In the last week of May, the champions were called so that Bagman could tell them what the next task was.
I sat on the floor of my dorm with every piece of knowledge I had obtained in the past couple months.
"Who are all these people?" Sue carefully stepped over my things to get to her bed.
"Just some people for Muggle Studies," I muttered, then I added quietly, "Illegibilus."
Sue looked at one of the papers and furrowed her brow. "Do Muggles... speak a different language or something?"
"With some things," I answered, sliding the paper she was reading towards me.
She shrugged and sat on her bed.
"I made you some tea." I pointed at the tea cup on her nightstand.
"Oh, thanks." She took it and sipped, placed it on the nightstand and quickly dozed off. Sleeping Draught.
I performed the reversal spell on my things and continued looking through the swamp of evidence.
Cedric had breathed easy the entire summer without me investigating anything dangerous (other than Sirius Black, but he didn't need to know about that). Now was just making up for it. The man has to get wrinkles and grey hair someday.
I scratched my chin.
Bertha Jorkins was known to be in Albania for vacation, then was reported missing when she didn't return on the day she said she would.
Some people believed that she just lost track of time or got lost in general, but I didn't manage to find any record of it, or even something on a daily gossip column, and I searched through that virtuously.
There was certainly signs pointing to kidnapping.
By who was what stumped me.
It was someone who would find her useful. The information I am sure she had is about the World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament.
It had to be someone relating to Voldemort, but how is he supposed to do that when he couldn't even walk on his own the last I heard of him?
I opened my notebook to a fresh page and scribbled something down.
Dumbledore said that Bagman and Mr. Crouch had been working on it for months, and Charlie, Bill, and Mrs. Weasley knew about it - it wasn't a one man job.
But Bertha Jorkins going missing, Death Eaters appearing at the World Cup, someone entering Harry into a deadly tournament, it all adds up on the timeline. They have to be connected.
I stared at the long timeline I had made by making the paper in my notebook extend.
"Something happened here," I muttered, pressing my finger against the empty space between her graduation from Hogwarts and her entering the Ministry.
I heard something bump into the window and I looked up, spotting Major hovering beyond the glass. "Ah, mum's written back."
Once I opened the window, Major hastily dropped the letter in my hand, efficient as ever.
Bertha Jorkins moved between Departments until she landed in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I only remember her being in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. I do hope nobody else knows about this investigation, dear - you don't want the wrong people finding out.
I sent a quick letter back and added onto the timeline between her joining the Ministry and her going to Albania.
Then I paused.
The Department of International Magical Cooperation.
"She worked under Crouch...?"
"Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go."
What if she found out something she wasn't supposed to? I glanced at the blank space in the timeline, where I believed that her memory was erased.
It wasn't the entire Ministry that believed she was forgetful - it was Bagman.
"Something happened before that," I whispered. "But not here. Diffindo." I sliced the parchment and moved it so there was no blank space, then wrote between her being in the Department of International Magic Cooperation and her joining the Department of Magical Games and Sports.
Memory charm used.
•••
"I doubt that the riddles will be the same as the ones for the Ravenclaw common room, Ced," I said as he followed me back from dinner.
"I just want to check."
"And what if there's no riddles in the maze?"
Cedric had told me about the last task - it was something so unpredictable that I could barely help. He had his spells, his hexes, and his general knowledge; he was just scared of the riddles. It wasn't that he wasn't smart, it's just that our riddles needed a good balance of logic and creativity - that's one thing a Hufflepuff couldn't find.
The knocker awoken and asked, "There are things people can be swallowed by, things that people can swallow, but there are few that can do both - name one."
Cedric stared a long while. "Um..."
"Don't get me locked out."
He hummed for a while. "Why are the riddles- They're either very straightforward or make almost no sense."
"Or maybe they do and you simply don't understand." I turned to the knocker. "Pride."
The door swung open and Cedric sighed. "At least I wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw."
"Yes, I don't think the Sorting Hat is that cruel."
I led him inside and went to the niche where the books were kept. "There has to be one about riddles."
We would be looking in the library, but Madam Pince had already snapped at some boys trying to help Fleur with the previous task, so this was the next best thing.
Cho came down, hearing the commotion, and smiled. "Hey Cedric."
He smiled in return. "Hey Cho."
And suddenly I was invisible.
I watched the two talk, grinning as if they had been married for the past five years. I sighed, leaning on the bookshelf with a blank expression.
I could've gotten stabbed in that very moment and they wouldn't notice.
"...Evelyn."
"What?" The two turned to me.
"Y/N Evelyn Griffin. Just... if you're looking for baby names."
After a while, I slipped away and left the common room, scared that they'd start snogging in front of me.
I entered my dorm and flopped onto my bed, hearing a crinkle under me when I did. I looked under me, seeing a newspaper on my bed. "Helena...?"
I got off my bed and picked up the newspaper.
Death Eaters Caught and Arrested for Torture of Two Aurors
And a very familiar face there was. Barty Crouch Junior.
I stared at the photo for a long while.
He didn't look much older than Cedric, given that worry lines were probably compromising him in that comparison. My father never liked talking about his friends back in Hogwarts, and I never really found the guts to pry about it. Did he know that one of his best friends was put into Azkaban?
Did he know that one of his best friends died a year later?
Four Death Eaters: Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange, and, the surprising fourth, Barty Crouch Junior, were tried and arrested for the torture of Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom.
The two were reportedly found by Aurors, just moments too late.
My eyes widened. Barty Crouch Junior tortured Neville's parents into insanity? Or, supposedly, at least.
In the photo, he wasn't screaming and grinning cunningly at the camera like the others - not even like Sirius.
He looked terrified. His eyes were wide, his hands trembled in the moving photo, beads of sweat moving down the sides of his pale face.
My eyes travelled back to the printed words.
Just moments too late.
Before I left, I heard something bang against the window and I glanced at the glass, seeing Hedwig hovering outside. I opened the window and she dropped a letter before flying off again.
I found Crouch... I was with Krum and we found Mr. Crouch, but when I went to get help and came back, he was gone and Krum was stunned. Crouch was incoherent and thought I was Ron's brother. Just thought you should know.
Harry
I placed the letter and the newspaper in the drawer of my nightstand and went down to the common room, where Cho and Cedric migrated to the couch.
"Going out?" he asked as I approached the door.
"Yep... see you."
The library.
The smell of old books and the sound of pages turning as hushed voices entered my ears, just quiet enough for me to not understand, but just loud enough for me to want to.
The perfect place for my mind.
I opened the large swinging doors, seeing students scattered across the different tables, some with books and papers and quills, other with nail files and eyeliner and gossip to share.
Someone lowered their book from their face and my face brightened. Neville.
He waved me over and I sat down beside him. He smelled like the lake and forest. Had he been outside?
"Where have you been all day?" Neville closed his book and put it down.
"Shut in," I breathed, slouching in my chair. "Reading."
"Not surprised. What was your latest book about?"
I tried to stop my grin from forming but it was no longer under my control. "Ten people were invited to a place called Soldier Island by a Mr. and Mrs. U.N. but when they get there, the two are no where to be found. Each guest then starts being killed, one by one."
Neville's brows raised, whether in interest or concern was a mystery to me, so I stopped.
"So you like those kinds of books," he noted. "I think my gran likes those kinds of books too, but she used to tell me the stories when I was small, and I wasn't quite fond of them."
"Of course," I laughed.
"I do remember the story of one! Want to hear it?"
"I'm all ears."
The library was a perfect place.
Only because he was there.
The smell of the trees and the lake, with the rough skin at the end of his fingertips from flipping through books about plants and wading through the water.
He was perfect.