I feel myself slam into the ground below me. I keep my eyes tightly closed, too terrified to open them. The breath had been completely knocked out of me. My head was swimming so much the ground felt as though it was swaying under my body. My hands were clenched tightly onto the two things I dare not let go of: Harry's hand and Cedric's. My scar was burning dully on the side of my neck. The shock was pinning me to the ground. I was waiting for someone to do something... to help us... to do anything. I feel tears brewing in the back of my eyes and I don't hesitate to let them fall. I lay there breathing in the scent of the grass my head was pressed against, as tears fell hotly onto my freezing cheeks. The sounds confused me. Cheers. Not screaming, crying, like they should be. Cheering and clapping, as if they were celebrating. Then my shoulders were seized by a pair of hands and I was turned over. I was looking up at the deep, starry sky, the figure of Dumbledore towering over me. My eyes stung in the cold wind and I sobbed harder. I sit up abruptly. A crowd of people were pushing forward, making their way over to us. Dumbledore's face swam in and out of focus.
"Harry, Olivia?" The panicked voice of Dumbledore said. Harry grabs Dumbledore's wrist, and pulls him slightly nearer. His face was, like mine, glistening with tears.
"He's back," Harry whispered, shakily.
"V-Voldemort's back," I say, struggling to breathe properly.
"What's going on? What's happened?" Said the voice of the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. His face was drained of colour instantly when he saw the state Cedric was in. "My god- Diggory!" His head snaps towards the crowd of people that were closing in around Harry and I. "Keep everyone in their seats- a boys just been killed," I heard him whisper to Snape. My stomach gave an uncomfortable jolt as the crowd realised what had happened: people started screaming and gasping, in shock, some of the girls were crying hysterically and the Professor's and tournament judges were trying to heard people away from the scene. Dumbledore, gripped my shaking wrists and raised me off the ground, and steadied me on my feet. I tried to cover my sobs with my hands but they were pushed away by Dumbledore.
"It's ok, Olivia," he says, patting my shoulder gently, "It's done now. He's home." My sobs only become louder. Everything was fine. Fine. Until this bloody Tournament. Why did this have to happen to me? To us? The screams and the cries from the crowd echoed around my head, making me want to curl up into a ball and scream until it was all over. I fling myself into Harry's arms and he hugs me tight, his own cries becoming more frequent. My vision was going in and out of focus, making my head spin.
A heavy hand was placed on my shoulder and I was pulled out of Harry's arms. The gruff voice of Mad-Eye Moody spoke in my ear:
"Come on, you two," he hoists me to my feet and wraps a heavy arm around my shoulder and the other on Harry's. "You don't want to be here, right now. Come with me." My scar was throbbing and gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Mad-Eye forced a pathway through the crowd of crying people and he guided us across the moonlit grounds, and into the castle itself.
Clunk, clunk, clunk. Up the marble staircase we went: my eyes able to see but my brain unable to process anything. The castle seemed dark. Not it's homelike, usual self. The jet of green light, that had taken Cedric's life like it was nothing, was flashing before my eyes every time I blinked. The voices of my parents, for the first time in my life, were fresh in my ears and echoed around my head.
Clunk, clunk, clunk. Through the deserted corridors: I was struggling to get breaths in and out. My sobs and my cries were forming a lump in my throat, leaving me unable to speak. The tears trickling silently down my cheeks were the only sign of pain.
"What happened?" Moody said, my knees almost buckling underneath me. I swallow hard, still unable to speak, hoping that Harry would speak up.
"Cup was a Portkey..." Harry says breathlessly, as we crossed a cold landing on the second floor. "...took us to a graveyard... Voldemort was there... and- and killed Cedric,"
"Then what happened?" I heard the sound of a key scraping in a lock and I was pushed down into a chair against the wall. I try and blink away the blurriness in my vision, but it's no use. Everything in the room is spinning.
"The Death Eaters came... we duelled... our wands did something... something funny...saw our parents... and Cedric... but they weren't real... ghosts I think," Harry was thrusted into a chair beside me, and I slip my hand into his, catching my breath and choking a sob, for the first time in a while. A goblet was placed in my hands and I was ordered to drink. I tried to bring the rim to my mouth but my shaking hands denied it. Without even moving as much as a finger, I felt the liquid being poured down my throat. I cough and splutter at the peppery taste and burning in my throat. Instantly, the room came into better focus, and the room stopped spinning.
"Voldemort's back? Are you sure? How did he do it?" Moody said, his eyes fixed on Harry and I, unblinkingly.
"Took stuff from Wormtail, his f-father's grave... a-and us," I say, finding my voice and speaking up.
"What did he take from you?"
"B-blood," I say, swallowing hard and putting my head in my shaking hands.
"There's a Death Eater at Hogwarts!" Harry says, abruptly, "T-they put our names in the Goblet - made sure we got through to the end." I feel Harry try to get up, from beside me, but he is pushed back down with a thump.
"I know who the Death Eater is," Moody says in a rough, bit quiet voice. My head snaps up, looking at the guilty face in front of me.
"What?" I question, wildly, my eyebrows furrowing.
"It was me," he says, his magical eye rolling around wildly in his head, clearly checking that nobody was outside the door. He pulls his wand out and points it between my eyes, moving it between Harry and I. I heard but I didn't believe. "Who put your names in the Goblet under the name of a different school. I did. Who frightened off any person I thought would hurt or try and prevent you from winning the Tournament? I did. Who persuaded Hagrid to show you, Harry, the dragon? I did. Who helped you find a way to get past the dragon? I did. It's been difficult. So very difficult guiding you through these tasks without raising any suspicion on myself. I had to use every bit of cunning within me. But I made sure you had a decent head start in the maze so hopefully you could both get rid of the other champions in your way. The second task was when I was most afraid we would fail... I knew you were struggling with the egg, Olivia, so I had to give you a little hint-"
"You didn't," I cut him off, hoarsely. "Cedric told me how to do it."
"Who do you think gave Cedric the idea to hold it on the water eh? I did! Decent people are so easy to manipulate. It's all been me! You think Longbottom would've known about Gillyweed if I hadn't given him the book that lead his straight to it!" He slams his fist on the table, his voice growing angrier and angrier every second. I jump slightly in my chair, my hands trembling. It couldn't have been him. Dumbledore trusted him!
"You were so long in that lake, Olivia, I was sure you drowned, but Dumbledore took your idiocy for nobility and gave you a high score. I was relieved. And as for tonight... I was patrolling around the edge of the maze, I managed to stun Fleur, out the Imperius Curse on Krum and set him on Cedric, leaving your path clear. Ingenious isn't it?" How is this possible... it makes no sense... no sense at all.
"You're mad!" Harry exclaims. He can't help himself can he?
"Mad am I?" Moody says, raising his voice, uncontrollably. "We'll see who's mad now that the Dark Lord has returned! Returned with me at his side! He's back, Potters! You didn't conquer him- and now I conquer you!" He raises his wand a little higher but I get there first. I reach right down into my pocket and fling my wand out of my robes.
"Stupefy!" I cry, pointing my wand at him. There was a loud crash and a jet of red light, and Moody was thrown backward onto the floor. Just at that moment, the office door was burst open and there stood the very perplexed faces of Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. I look at Dumbledore and his face is completely foreign. The usual twinkle behind his half moon spectacles had been replaced with pure, cold fury, as he looked down at Moody's unconscious figure. Snape followed him into the room, peering suspiciously over into his Foe Glass. Professor McGonagall, however, came hurrying straight over to Harry and I. She kneels down in front of us, her thin lips trembling as if she was about to cry. She places a hand on each of our shoulders.
"Are you all right, you two?" She asks, shakily. We both nod, still not entirely sure at what has just happened. My mind was all over the place. I didn't know what to think, what to feel, nothing. She grasps our arm and pulls us to our feet, trying to herd us away from the scene. "Come along now... hospital wing..."
"No," said Dumbledore sharply, cutting through the tension in the room.
"Albus... they've been through enough tonight - look at them," McGonagall says. Her arm is wrapped around my shoulder and I feel her pulling me closer. I draw a shaky breath and press a hand to my throbbing scar. I swallow hard.
"They will stay, Minerva, they need to understand, they deserve to know who has put him through the ordeal they have suffered tonight, and why," Dumbledore says, suddenly a lot calmer than he was a few minutes prior.
"It was Moody," Harry says, his eyes staring blankly.
"This isn't Alastor Moody. The real Moody wouldn't have removed you from my sight tonight. The second he took you, I knew- and I followed." Dumbledore said, as he reached over Moody's limp form and pulled out his hip-flask and a set of keys from his robe pockets. He turned to Professor Snape.
"Severus, fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess and bring it back here if you please," Snape nodded, before briskly turning and leaving the office. Dumbledore walked over to a trunk with several locks on it, and turned one of the keys in the lock. The trunk opened and I peered into it. It contained dozens of old spellbooks and quills. Dumbledore turned the second key in the lock to reveal a trunk full of broken Sneakoscopes: the spellbooks and quills had disappeared. Dumbledore turned the third, forth, fifth, six and then the seventh key in each lock and at last, I was peering into what looked like a deep pit, with a small, cold room at the bottom. On the floor, was apparently the real Mad-Eye Moody, thin, starved, ill-looking and fast asleep. Chunks of grizzled hair we're missing rom his head, his wooden leg has been removed, and the socket that should have help his magical eye, looked to be empty beneath the socket.
"Is he d-dead?" I ask, shakily, and Dumbledore shook his head, peering further into the trunk.
"Merely Stunned," Dumbledore says, opening the hip-flask and holding it to his nose, "Polyjuice Potion, of course,"
Minutes passed in silence, and then, right before my eyes, the limp figure of the fake Moody began to change and reform. The wooden leg popped off and a normal leg took its place, the scarred and mangled skin was disappearing and becoming smooth. Theming mane of grey, course hair, was turning into the colour of straw, and the magical eye came flying out of its socket and was replaced by a normal one. We were looking at a man I had seen before... I'd seen him in the Pensieve that day in Dumbledore's office. He was in Azkaban.
I heard footsteps from outside the office and Snape had returned, with a small phial in his hand. He stopped dead in the doorway. "Crouch!" He exclaimed in his usual cold voice, "Barty Crouch!"
"Good heavens," McGonagall said, looking like she was about to faint. She tried to move me out of the way from the scene but my feet are glued to the ground. Snape steps forward and hands the glass phial to Dumbledore. It contained a clear liquid that could easily be mistaken for water, but what I knew was Veritaserum, a powerful Truth Potion. The three adults step over the man lying on the floor. I stretch my neck to try and see around them, and I watch as Dumbledore forces the mans mouth open and pours a few drops of the liquid down his throat. He then points his wand at his chest and mutters "Rennervate,"
The man was woken up with a start. He looked wildly around the room, and looked at Harry and I with intense intrigue. Dumbledore began interrogating him deeply, and he, clearly unwillingly, was forced to tell the truth. I didn't pay much attention to the conversation, as my head was all over the place and I felt sick and worn down. I managed to pick out that he had escaped Azkaban by using Polyjuice Potion and switching bodies with his own mother.
Before I knew it, I was being taken up to the Hospital Wing. My whole body was trembling with fear and shock. It was only then, that I realised how much of a state I looked, as I caught a glimpse of myself in a nearby window. My hair, was tied into a wonky ponytail, my face was dirty with dust and mud, my clothes were slightly torn and I had many grazes and cuts on my body. I felt as though I was in my own little bubble. I was completely dazed. Nothing was in proper focus, sound, vision, nothing. My eyelids were heavy and it was taking all my strength to keep my head from lolling around all over the place and to keep my knees from buckling underneath me. I wanted nothing more than to lie down, undisturbed, for hours on end, until I fall asleep, leaving me in peace, not having to think any more.
"I must say," Dumbledore began tightening his grip on my shoulder, "That you two have shown bravery by one anything I could have expected of you tonight. You have shown bravery equal to those who does fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it. However I don't think you should return to the dormitories tonight, a Sleeping Draught and some peace will do the trick for you, come along, now."
When we entered the Hospital Wing we saw Ron, Hermione, Bill, Mrs Weasley and, to my surprise, Draco, all grouped around a frantic looking Madam Pomfrey. When they heard the door open, they all whipped around and Mrs Weasley let out a muffled sob. She began to hurry towards him, but Dumbledore stopped her.
"Molly, I must say, before you say anything," Dumbledore began, seriously, "That Harry and Olivia have both been through a great ordeal tonight, and I'm asking you, and the others, nicely to refrain from questioning them about anything that has happened until they are ready, and certainly not tonight. What they need is sleep, peace and quiet, and I ask you to respect that. If you sis to stay with them tonight, you may, but just please give them peace."
Mrs Weasley, along with the others were looking very pale and worn out, but nodded slowly. I felt an extreme sense of gratitude towards Dumbledore for asking them not to interrogate us. The thought of reliving it, once again, was too much for me to handle. Madam Pomfrey led Harry and I to two beds and handed us some pyjamas to change into. She pulled the curtains around each of our beds and I slipped out of my torn clothes and slipped into the pyjamas. When the curtains were drawn back, Draco was straight at my side. He was looking at me with intense curiosity, as if he was scared of me.
"Are you ok?" He asks me, slipping his hand into mine and settling down into one of the chairs next to my bed. Oh no. The question bound to make anyone cry. I nod slowly, my lip quavering, and tears threatening to fall. I blink and the tears fall down my cheeks before I can even control them. I let out silent sobs, careful not to let anybody else notice. My whole body is trembling. He leans forward, slightly startled, and cups my face into his hands.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked that, I'm sorry, please don't cry, it'll be ok," he places a small kiss onto my forehead and my grip on his hand becomes tighter. "You know what, let's talk in the morning, shall we? You need lots of rest," I nod at him and he smiles weakly, before standing up. I grab onto his arm, with all the strength I can muster.
"No," I whisper. I don't want him to leave. Not now. "Please don't go. You'll stay, won't you?" He hesitates, looking over at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Mrs Weasley. They surely wouldn't approve, but I don't care, anymore. He looks back at me, smiles and nods, before settling into his chair once again.
"Of course."
Madam Pomfrey rushes over to me and thrusts a Goblet in my hand. "Drink this," she says, and I look down into the hot liquid, "It's a potion for a dreamless sleep," I nod and take a few mouthfuls of the liquid. I stare back at Draco, who kisses my forehead once more, and I feel myself getting drowsier by the second. I shut my eyes and before I could even think anything else, my exhaustion carried me off to sleep.