a/n: unedited. published 12/28/16
otherwise known as
"the parting of ways"
Harry had woken, to hear the distressed and denying Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.
No matter how much Dumbledore tried to convince Fudge of Voldemorts return, the minister would not see. The death of Barty Crouch had upset everyone, all but Fudge. Harry tried to name names. There was Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Macnair, Dean (though at the mention of this name, Ophelia did a double take) and Nott (Darcy had frowned)...The steps to avoid Voldemort's quick rise—like the Dementors that guarded Askaban—Fudge was stubborn and foolish to refute and through the piles of galleons that were nearest Harry.
"There is work to be done," Dumble said after the exit of Fudge. "Molly . . . am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"
"Of course you can," said Mrs. Weasley. She was white to the lips, but she looked resolute. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."
"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," said Dumbledore. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."
"I'll go to Dad," said Bill, standing up. "I'll go now."
"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry —"
"Leave it to me," said Bill. He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room.
"Minerva," said Dumbledore, turning to Professor McGonagall, "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also — if she will consent to come — Madame Maxime."
Professor McGonagall nodded and left without a word.
"Poppy," Dumbledore said to Madam Pomfrey, "would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."
"Very — very well," said Madam Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left.
Dumbledore made sure that the door was closed, and that Madam Pomfrey's footsteps had died away, before he spoke again.
"And now," he said, "it is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius . . . if you could resume your usual form."
The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, to Darcy, then, in an instant, turned back into a man.
Mrs. Weasley screamed and leapt back from the bed.
"Sirius Black!" she shrieked, pointing at him.
Darcy and Ophelia flinched.
"Mum, shut up!" Ron yelled. "It's okay!"
Snape had not yelled or jumped backward, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror.
"Him!" he snarled, staring at Sirius, whose face showed equal dislike. "What is he doing here?"
"He is here at my invitation," said Dumbledore, looking between them, "as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."
Harry thought Dumbledore was asking for a near miracle. Sirius and Snape were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing.
"I will settle, in the short term," said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, "for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any of us."
Very slowly — but still glaring at each other and the help of Ophelia shoving Sirius a little — Sirius and Snape moved toward each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly.
"That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Amelia Dean — the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."
"But —" said Harry and Darcy. The two stared at each other. They wanted Sirius to stay. He did not want to have to say goodbye again so quickly.
"You'll see me very soon," said Sirius, turning to them. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah . . . of course I do."
Darcy frowned. "Alright..."
Sirius grasped his and Darcy's hand briefly, nodded to Dumbledore, transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone.
"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready . . . if you are prepared . . ."
"I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.
"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius. Dumbledore then turned his gaze to Ophelia.
"I know it's dangerous for you out there, Ophelia," he continued. "I know teaching for Muggle Studies is risky—but I must ask...that book you talked to me about will be published. You will be under the most scrutiny and I ask of you to continue to change their minds..."
Ophelia's eyes were shifting to a dull grey, and her head was black. She speedily walked past Dumbledore, her wand unsheathed.
It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.
"I must go downstairs," he said finally. "I must see the Diggorys. Harry — take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later."
Harry slumped back against his pillows as Dumbledore disappeared. Hermione, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley were all looking at him. None of them spoke for a very long time.
"You've got to take the rest of your potion, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said at last. Her hand nudged the sack of gold on his bedside cabinet as she reached for the bottle and the goblet. "You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while . . . think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"
"I don't want that gold," said Harry in an expressionless voice. "You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it. It should've been Cedric's."
The thing against which he had been fighting on and off ever since he had come out of the maze was threatening to overpower him. He could feel a burning, prickling feeling in the inner corners of his eyes. He blinked and stared up at the ceiling.
"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Mrs. Weasley whispered.
"I told him to take the cup with me," said Harry. Now the burning feeling was in his throat too. He wished Ron would look away.
Mrs. Weasley set the potion down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, and put her arms around Harry. He had no memory of ever being hugged like this, as though by a mother. The full weight of everything he had seen that night seemed to fall in upon him as Mrs. Weasley held him to her. His mother's face, his father's voice, the sight of Cedric, dead on the ground all started spinning in his head until he could hardly bear it, until he was screwing up his face against the howl of misery fighting to get out of him. There was a loud slamming noise, and Mrs. Weasley and Harry broke apart.
Hermione was standing by the window. She was holding something tight in her hand.
"Sorry," she whispered. "Your potion, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley quickly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.
Harry drank it in one gulp. The effect was instantaneous. Heavy, irresistible waves of dreamless sleep broke over him; he fell back onto his pillows and thought no more.
. . .
For the months that followed the end of the school year, Darcy thought they went by in a blur. There was no Defense Class, a bummer. The Slytherin common rooms were filled with a mixture of fearful whispers, and excited talk. Mostly the latter.
Theodore Nott...That was all that Darcy thought about, aside from Harry. She worried about Theodore. She saw that when it was nearing the end of school, he became thinner and thinner... Darcy was oddly reminded of Roland Abberly in third year, when he was thin.
"Too bad there's no Defense homework," drawled Darcy. She sat herself next to Theodore. "How're you doing?"
"Fine."
"You should talk to Gemma."
"I don't want to."
"Theodore...I know what you're going through," whispered Darcy. She laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to get some attention out of him. "Your father—"
Theodore violently got up from his seat, and threw a nasty glance at her.
"Stop talking to me," he spat, though there was a faltering squeak at the end of his voice. "You better mute."
He said his words with such venom, it did sting a little no matter how much she's heard the worm mute.
Theodore got up from his seat, but before Darcy called out to him once more.
"Just because you blocked Gemma out, doesn't mean you can do the same to me, Theodore!" she yelled, her hands clenched in anger.
"Watch me, half-blood!"
. . .
Jani Scamander and Phille Fleamont both sat close to each other, their heads bowed down at the Great Hall. There was no winning House's colors for the Leaving Feast. Tonight, however, there were black drapes on the wall behind the teachers' table. Harry knew instantly that they were there as a mark of respect to Cedric.
The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.
"The end," said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year."
He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.
"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."
They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory."
Harry caught a glimpse of Cho through the crowd. There were tears pouring silently down her face. Then, there was the fire in Jani Scamander's eyes and the fierce devotion in Darcy's. He looked down at the table as they all sat down again.
"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."
Harry raised his head and stared at Dumbledore.
"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."
A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.
"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so — either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."
Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now . . . or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table, Harry saw Draco Malfoy muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle. Harry felt a hot, sick swoop of anger in his stomach. He forced himself to look back at Dumbledore.
"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."
A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.
"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."
Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name, as they had murmured Cedric's, and drank to him. But through a gap in the standing figures, Harry saw that Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and many of the other Slytherins had remained defiantly in their seats, their goblets untouched. Though, there was the two who stood out more. Darcy was proudly holding her goblet up, along with Gemma Fawley. Dumbledore, who after all possessed no magical eye, did not see them.
When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened — of Lord Voldemort's return — such ties are more important than ever before."
Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Harry saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh.
"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again — in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.
"It is my belief — and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken — that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.
"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."