Heart in her throat, Heather ran towards her brother. Spells flew from her wand. A diagnostic showed Cruciatus damage, a broken ankle, a large cut on his arm and severe magical exhaustion. She immediately cast healing charms to fix his wounds, though the nerve damage from the Crucio could only be healed with time. Shakily, she slumped to the ground next to him.
"Hadrian, oh thank Circe!" She pulled him into her arms, mindful not to jostle him too much. "You're alright!"
He smiled weakly in return. "Yeah, sorry for worrying you." Then, he frowned, clutching her arms. "Cedric, he's okay, right? The portkey worked?"
"Hadrian!" Speak of the devil. The older Hufflepuff crouched to their level and grasped Hadrian's shoulder. Before he could speak, however, they were descended upon by their friends and family. Sirius, Remus, the twins, Ron and Hermione crowded around them, all speaking at once.
Irritated, she flicked her wand and thought, 'Silencio!'. Blessed silence. She glared at all of them. "Can't you see how exhausted Hadrian is? You're overwhelming him!" Chagrined looks greeted her. "Now, I'm going to release the spell, but let Hadrian say what he needs to. Are we clear?" They nodded rapidly. She dropped the silencing charm.
"Thanks Heather," her brother said gratefully. He truly looked awful, she'd make sure he got rest soon.
"No problem, now can you tell us what happened after Cedric left?" In her peripheral view, she saw the older boy wince slightly, looking guilty. Good. He should be. He was the older one, he should have protected Rian, not the other way around!
Her brother's green eyes darkened ominously. "Voldemort. H-he's back." He bit his lip, as if unwilling to say any more.
"Preposterous!" a reedy voice shouted. Someone pushed through the crowd, ranting, "What sort of nonsense are you spewing now, you brat?" Heather swivelled around to glower at the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.
"Are you accusing my brother of being a liar?" she asked dangerously. After the day she'd had, her temper was at its tipping point. She didn't need this incompetent excuse of a leader to insult Rian.
The man visibly startled at the venom in her voice. "O-of course not. But perhaps the task was too tiring for him. He must have been hallucinating. Understandable, he's only a fourteen-year-old boy, after all."
Her glare increased in intensity at the words. Anyone with a brain decided to slowly back away from her. Which meant only Fudge was left after everyone had retreated. Her magic lashed out wildly, seeking an outlet for her rage.
"I would consider my words carefully if I were you, Cornelius Fudge. Hadrian just returned bearing evidence of damage from the Cruciatus. This occurred during the Triwizard Tournament, a Ministry-sanctioned event. If it wasn't Voldemort, as you claim, I can only infer that the injury was dealt by someone of yours. Surely the Ministry did not include Unforgiveables as part of the tournament?"
As she spoke, her magic spilled out more and more. By the time she had said her piece, Fudge was sweating bullets. He certainly felt the suffocating waves of magic prssing down on him, though he probably didn't recognise it for what it was.
"N-no, you mistake me Miss-" At her glare, he corrected himself. "-Lady Potter. I was me-merely pointing out that the story doesn't seem very believable. You-Know-Who was killed by your brother years ago!"
"Hadrian would never lie about this!" she reiterated. "If he says that Voldemort," she relished in the flinch Fudge made, "has returned, then he has!"
"Yeah, I saw him. I duelled him!" Hadrian argued vehemently.
Nervously, the Minister held his hands out. "I simply cannot take that as truth without proof, you understand. You cannot expect me to believe you duelled You-Know-Who and made it back alive!"
Opening her mouth to argue further, the appearance of Professor Snape, Professor Moody and Headmaster Dumbledore cut her off. Her Head of House walked right up to Fudge, looming over him. He shoved his arm right in his face, rolling up his sleeve. "Here is your proof!" he snarled.
Fudge paled dramatically and staggered back a few steps. Heather didn't pay attention. Not when her gaze was fixed on the black tattoo on the forearm of her Professor. The Dark Mark. Horror filled her as she stared at it. The disgusting brand of loyalty all Deatheaters had.
Professor Snape had been a Deatheater all along? She'd confided in him, spent time with him, respected him. No words could express the betrayal she felt.
Dazed, she allowed Professor Moody to lead her and Hadrian away towards the castle. "Come on, you two! Let them deal with Fudge. The pigheaded man won't listen to reason."
"Where are we going?" Hadrian asked tiredly after several minutes. He was all but leaning on her as they walked. His limbs trembled from the aftershocks of the Cruciatus and Heather regretted not bringing him to the medical wing immediately. Hadrian shouldn't be traipsing around the castle in his state.
"Somewhere where we can talk unheard. You never know who could be eavesdropping. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" His fake eye rotated all round, as if looking for spies around the corner. "I'll need you to tell me what happened, Potter. Miss Potter, you can leave. I will send your brother to the infirmary later."
She shook her head. "No, it's okay. I'll just come along."
The Professor's remaining eye narrowed for a second before he reached out to open a door she hadn't noticed earlier. "As you wish," he growled roughly.
Unease niggled at the back of her mind as she and Rian entered the room. She was ready to dismiss it as her being keyed up from today's events when she felt a rush of magic aimed at her from behind. She tried to twist out of the way, but then realised she was still supporting Hadrian's weight. Her wand, which had been in her hand, was wrenched from her grip.
'Stupid!' she cursed herself for letting her guard down. Pivoting to face the threat, she watched as he caught her wand in mid-air. She smirked inwardly.
As soon as Professor Moody touched her laurel wand, bright sparks crackled out, sending jolts of pain up his arm. Hadrian took advantage of the distraction to stun the man as she wandlessly summoned her faithful wand. It seemed to purr approvingly when she bound him up in layers and layers of binding spells.
Sighing in relief, she turned to her brother, who was trembling in exhaustion. "Hadrian! You shouldn't have cast anything! You're almost dead on your feet as it is!"
"'M fine..." he slurred, "Jus' a lil' tired."
"Fine, just sit down before you collapse!" She carefully lowered him onto a couch she had transfigured, and as she expected, he fell asleep immediately.
Looking between her dozing brother and stunned Professor, she grimaced. She couldn't just leave them unattended to go find someone. Well, she could just... "Expecto Patronum." Her snidget materialised from wispy clouds, fluttering near Hadrian first before awaiting her command. "Go find Headmaster Dumbledore and bring him here."
It took off like, well, a snitch. All she had to do now was wait. If she shot several more stunners at Moody, then he could only blame himself for getting on her last nerve.
~~~
Severus turned away from the imbecilic fool in disgust. How the man had gotten elected as Minister was a testament to the idiocy of the British wizarding population at large. Let Albus deal with the fool.
He sought out the two students and was alarmed to find them missing. They had been there just minutes ago. Alastor was similarly absent. He had likely brought them back to the castle. He could hardly blame them for wanting to leave, after what they had witnessed. The memory of revolted green eyes flashed in his mind.
He clutched painfully at his still-throbbing Mark. The permanent brand of his sins. If his previous actions had not turned Heather away from him forever, then this revelation would surely do so.
Unexpectedly, a rush of warmth and elation filled him. He startled at the misplaced feelings, trying to find the source of them. It wasn't a Cheering Charm, not if Albus knew what was good for him. The charm felt different than what he was feeling now, anyway. This was more genuine, more deep-seated. Just more.
He caught sight of an abnormal glow floating atop his head. A spell-? He gripped his wand, looking up. What he found caused his heart to clench tightly. He could not help staring for a few moments longer, taking undeserved comfort in the feelings it evoked in him.
"Albus," he said eventually, ignoring the glare Fudge gave him for interrupting, "Miss Potter has sent a patronus for you." He could only presume that was the reason for the misty snidget flittering around his person like a persistent insect. Frankly, he was surprised that she had yet to learn how to send verbal messages via the charm.
"A patronus? Don't be ridiculous, Snape! She's just a little girl!" Fudge said in condescension. This coming from the man who had, just minutes ago, been all but cowering in front of that 'little girl'. Severus narrowed his eyes, fingering his wand. It took all his restraint to withhold the painful hex that wanted to escape.
Fortunately - or not - Albus noticed his dilemma and defused the situation. "Yes, our Miss Potter is quite the talented student. She learnt the Patronus Charm in fifth year, did you know?"
"Third year," Severus muttered under his breath. Albus turned to him in query, but he simply shook his head.
The snidget took the opportunity to circle them once before flying towards the castle. When it noticed that they remained where they were, it paused and turned back to them. He wondered how the patronus could look expectant.
"I believe that we should follow it," Albus mused, stroking his beard.
He sighed in exasperation at the redundant comment. Without waiting for the other two wizards (though Fudge hardly counted), he strode off after the floating ball of feathers. It was probably something urgent if Heather could not come find them herself.
He followed it to an unused classroom located off a lesser-used hallway. It used to be an Alchemy classroom when it was still offered as an elective at Hogwarts. Nowadays it served little purpose other than a storage room. Which begged the question: why had Heather's patronus led them here? He pushed the door open quickly, not keen to waste any time.
Well.
This was far from what he had pictured in his mind.
Why on earth was Alastor trussed up like a turkey on the dusty floor?
He looked at the likely perpetrator, sitting calmly on a plush sofa (likely transfigured) with her brother's head in her lap. He raised an eyebrow.
"Heather, my dear girl, could you explain this? I'm not sure what Alastor did to warrant such treatment," Albus said, in his infuriatingly serene tone.
Despite himself, Severus was impressed. It was no simple feat to disarm and incapacitate an auror, even a retired one like Alastor. He was known for his extreme paranoia and situational awareness, after all.
"He tried to attack us. He managed to disarm me, but Hadrian cast a stunner at him. Since he was already drained from before, he all but passed out after that." She waved her hand nonchalantly at the bound wizard. "Then I cast a few binding spells and sent a patronus."
Albus frowned in confusion. Severus was of a similar mind. Alastor was a staunch supporter of the Light. There was no reason for him to attack Heather and Potter.
He watched as the Headmaster rennervated the unconscious man. Alastor's eye shot wide open and his mechanical orb spun wildly. Both landed on Severus and zoomed in on him. His real eye filled with loathing.
"You! I knew it! Traitorous scum!" the imposter spat. "Our Lord will get you for this! No one crosses him and lives to tell the tale!" He strained, clearly struggling against whatever binding spell held him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Heather shoot him an undecipherable look.
Albus cleared his throat, stepping in front of him and cutting off his line of sight. Just as he was about to speak, however, the man's face rippled tellingly. It took a few minutes, but his appearance morphed and shifted into an impossible one.
"Bartemius Crouch Junior?" Albus murmured incredulously.
"Impossible! He died in Azkaban years ago!" Fudge shouted.
Severus glared at him, shutting him up. He'd almost forgotten the inept man was still there. "Clearly the Ministry is not as effective as it would like to claim. False imprisonment, escapes from the 'impenetrable' Azkaban. What next?" he said mockingly.
The Minister sputtered, red-faced. Albus cut him off, turning to question the 'dead' Deatheater.
"Where is Alastor Moody?"
Crouch smiled hysterically. "Dead. DEAD! You'll never find him!"
Severus scoffed. "He is clearly alive, if you are polyjuicing as him." It was one of the conditions for polyjuice to work. Meanwhile, he was mortified that he had not made the connection sooner. The map that Heather had shown him had said 'Bartemius Crouch', but had not specified which one. All this had happened right under his nose and he had missed all the signs!
"Umm, I can probably find him," Heather offered quietly. "I just need to go get something."
"That's quite alright, my dear. We just need to question Mr Crouch here." Albus smiled tiredly, somehow still managing to get his damned eyes to twinkle.
"Now wait just a minute, Albus!" Fudge cut in loudly. "This Deatheater needs to be Kissed! Right this instant!"
Severus ignored the blithering fool and reached into his robe for his emergency potions kit. Granted, most people probably did not include Veritaserum as an emergency potion. It never hurt to be prepared, however. He handed a phial to Albus.
"Now now, Cornelius. Surely it couldn't hurt to ask Mr Crouch a few questions first? As well as give him a trial? Have you not learnt the folly of not doing so? May I remind you of Sirius Black?"
The man stomped his foot. Stomped. Oh Merlin, he could not believe this was the leader of their country.
"He has had his trial, Albus! He is a Deatheater! Unless you'd like to vouch for him too? Collect another pet?" The man dared to sneer at him. "Oh, pardon me. A spy, you said?" he spat in clear disbelief. Severus glowered at him contemptuously. If that was what he called a subtle dig, then there was little wonder he had been in Hufflepuff.
With that said, the man spun and strutted out of the room. Severus could tell he was trying to be intimidating, but really, it looked much like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Or a Gryffindor.
A startled laugh caught his attention. His gaze was drawn Heather, trying to calm her laughter lest she wake her slumbering brother. "And that, everyone...was our esteemed Minister," she eventually got out.
"Indeed," he drawled. Even Albus shook his head in exasperation.
The truth serum was quickly (and forcibly) administered to Crouch, who had been oddly silent during the earlier exchange.
"What is your full name?"
"Bartemius Crouch Junior," the man stated blankly.
"What was your house in Hogwarts?"
"Ravenclaw."
Severus nodded. The serum was in effect.
The door slammed open.
He pivoted on his heel, wand at the ready. Fudge swaggered in, a superior look on his face.
"Since you appear disinclined to punish this Deatheater, Albus, I must pick up your slack." The fool of all fools then made a casual hand gesture, waving in a dementor of all things.
A dementor.
"Cornelius! You brought a dementor into the school!" Albus looked aghast and furious. Not much could anger him, but endangering his students was the top of the list.
Fudge lifted his nose pompously. "I have the beast under control, don't worry!"
The dementor clearly took offence to those words. It seemed to rear up at the insult, looming over the Minister.
"Not me! That man there! Crouch!" Fudge trembled in fear, turning tail and running as soon as he could. The utter coward.
His leaving had left a problem though. In the absence of the person with a certain - albeit minuscule - measure of control over the being, they were all in danger. One wrong move and their souls were forfeit.
Time seemed to freeze as it stared at them with its eyeless gaze. Severus itched to shoot his patronus at the thing, but that could drive it right into the path of another unsuspecting soul. At least the people in this room could all cast a patronus. Crouch didn't count in his mind. At this juncture, he was an acceptable form of collateral damage.
To his unending horror, the door opened behind the dementor, revealing Weasley and Granger, who were holding a large piece of parchment. The thing turned rapidly, descending upon them. Severus raised his wand, shoving the dread away. It was so close. The two fourth years stood little chance, rooted to the spot in fear as they were.
Even so, he had to try. "Expecto-"
A tiny speck of light whizzed past him, colliding into the shadowy cloak of the dementor. It crumpled into itself, giving a soundless shriek of pain. Jerking away from the bird, it fled out the doorway, just as the two students at the door jumped out of its path.
Stunned, Severus turned to the source of the patronus, who could be only one person. Heather sat there, with her hand outstretched, desperation etched in her features. A wandless, wordless Patronus Charm. Oh Salazar.
She sat, motionless, before snapping into motion. "The other students!" Quickly but carefully sliding her brother off her lap, she raced out of the room, her tiny patronus leading the way.
The vexatious little wench! She was supposed to be running away from the soul-eating monster. Cursing under his breath, he sprinted after her. Merlin, but the little slip of a witch was fast! Only his much longer stride allowed him to keep her and the dementor in sight.
In a rare stroke of luck, they met no students on the way out of the castle. The dementor had tried to turn into various hallways to venture further into the school, but the little bird never failed to block off its path and push it back to its original route.
To his shame, Severus had a brief moment of hysterics where he imagined Heather running a dementor farm with her patronus as a faithful shepherd.
The dementor was finally chased out of the castle. It flew to the edges of the school grounds, no doubt joining its numerous brethren. He stood a few paces behind Heather, keeping an eye out in case any of those things decided to return. Her patronus had much the same idea, it seemed, as it only fluttered back to her side once the coast was clear.
The snidget nuzzled into her wavy hair, circling her as if to make sure she was unharmed. Severus clenched his hands, an unnamed longing pulling at him. Once he restrained himself adequately, he opened his mouth, ready to speak. To his utter shock, the snidget zipped straight for him, flying around his head in dizzying motions.
Heather looked up, finally spotting him. Her face was devoid of surprise, as though as she had expected him to be there. They locked gazes for an interminable moment. The green - emerald, verdant, mesmerising - bore into his. Then they slid down, down, to his tainted arm.
Nails digging crescents into his palm, he demanded she follow him and swept back into the castle.
He didn't look back.