CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
(A/N: final chapter of GoF... big reveals... surprise...?)
Third Person P.O.V.:
Dumbledore unwrapped himself from his grandson, stood up, and, with extraordinary strength for a man so old and thin, raised Charlie from the ground, and set him on his feet.
Charlie swayed. His head was pounding, his body was shaking from the aftermath of the torture curse, and his injured leg would no longer support his weight. Within seconds, Harry had threw himself under his friend's arm to hold him steady.
Upon looking at his friend for the first time, Charlie's memories of what had happened came rushing back, his eyes widening as he broke out into a heart-breaking sob.
"Harry," he cried, "what happened? God, what happened? He's back, isn't he, Harry? Oh God... oh God... They tried to kill me! They were going to kill me..."
"It's okay now," Harry comforted, wiping the tears from his own eyes, "you're okay, that's all that matters."
"How did you —"
Charlie was cut off as Hermione had ran over to him, and threw herself around him. She was shaking with a mix of relief and fear as she held onto her boyfriend as though never planning on letting him go. Her force had removed Charlie from Harry's grasp, causing the brown eyed boy to stumble slightly, but he simply held onto his girlfriend as tight as possible.
The boy relished in his newfound comfort within Hermione's arms by burying his head into the crook of her neck. Everything that troubled him seconds ago had now evaporated as he had realized he kept his promise... he made his way back to her.
"I thought..." Hermione sobbed into his shirt. "I thought you were gone..."
Charlie shook his head, whispering, "I told you I'd make it back to you... I promised..."
For the first time that day, Hermione smiled widely upon hearing his voice again. Nothing else mattered in that moment besides the fact that Charlie was alive. She kissed his head and the side of his face repeatedly as she pulled back, trying to make sure that he was actually real and that him waking up wasn't just a figment of her imagination.
"Charlie..." she whispered, but it sounded almost like a question. She held his face endearingly and peered into the brown eyes that she missed so much.
"I'm here," Charlie said softly, wiping the tears from her face while he smiled to reassure her. "I'm okay."
Then, right as she was about to pull him into the most mind-blowing kiss, everyone else had joined the hug, engulfing the brown eyed boy in pure love. One by one they all joined in; Harry, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Elaina, Dumbledore, and even McGonagall — Snape, Moody, and Bagman aren't the biggest fans of public displays of affection...
Charlie laughed softly as everyone surrounded him. After enduring such immense pain in both the maze and the graveyard, a moment like this was exactly what he needed. It was like a reminder that no matter how dark things may seem, there was always a light that would guide him home.
"I'm okay," Charlie breathed out again, wobbling on one foot as they all separated. He felt the need to keep repeating himself, not for the sake of his friends and family, but for the sake of his own sanity. His head kept replaying the events of the Third Task over and over in his head like a nightmare —
"Both Potter and Hawthorne will need to go to the hospital wing," McGonagall said loudly. "They're gravely injured and potentially ill. Poppy will want to see them immediately."
"I'll take them," Dumbledore said in a relieved tone, still amazed by the fact this grandson was standing next to him. "Minerva, Severus, Ludo, and Alastor, please make sure that the students and respected crowd find their way back to safety while I do so."
That's when Moody had stepped forward, "I'll take them, Dumbledore."
"No, it's quite alright —"
"You need to alert the Minister of what has happened," Moody said, matter of factly. "I'd imagine he'd like to know that his son managed to survive..."
Dumbledore stared at him blankly, "Then maybe it's best that they stay here until —"
But Moody clearly didn't even want to entertain that idea, as he had pushed the two boys in the direction of the castle.
Hermione watched Charlie carefully before she moved towards him, "I'll come with you."
But before Charlie couldn't even respond, Professor Moody had dismissed the idea.
"You'll do no such thing," he growled. "They need rest," — he shifted his gaze back to Dumbledore — "stay here and deal with damage control, I'll make sure that the boys are well cared for."
Then, without even being given a chance to rebuttal, Charlie and Harry were being half-pulled, half-carried, by Professor Moody through the frightened crowd. Charlie heard people gasping, screaming, and shouting as the man supporting him pushed a path through them, taking him and Harry back to the castle. Across the lawn, past the lake and the Durmstrang ship, all the way until they were finally walking up the castle steps; only then, did Moody put them down.
Harry had thrown himself under Charlie's arm once again to help him walk. The two of them wobbled along behind Moody as the retired Auror clunked his way through the empty corridor.
"What happened?" Moody asked as they walked up a set of stone steps — Clunk. Clunk.
"Cup was a Portkey," said Harry as they crossed the Entrance Hall. "Took me and Charlie to a graveyard... and Voldemort was there... Lord Voldemort..."
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Up the marble stairs...
"The Dark Lord was there?" Moody asked, sounding slightly intrigued. "What happened then?"
At this point, Charlie's ears had perked up as he limped along. He too, wanted to know exactly what had happened because his reality of the situation kept fading in and out.
"Th-they, uh," Harry stuttered, obviously still shaken from the whole thing. "Tried to kill Charlie... they preformed the combined Unforgivable Curse on him..."
"And then?" Moody grunted, almost like he hadn't cared about Charlie's torture.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Along the corridor...
Harry shook his head, trying to remember every detail, "Made a potion... got his body back..."
"The Dark Lord got his body back?" Moody said, sounding surprised. "He's returned?"
Harry nodded slowly, "And the Death Eaters came... then he offered Charlie to join him... but when he refused, Voldemort left him there to die... and then we dueled..."
Moody's eye had widened, "You dueled with the Dark Lord?"
"Got away... my wand... did something funny... I saw my mum and dad... they came out of his wand..."
Then, as they reached the corridor with the hospital wing located at the end, Moody pulled them in a different room that Charlie couldn't recognize as he was still quite dazed.
"In here... both of you... in here, and sit down... you'll be all right now... drink this..."
Harry had helped Charlie to a nearby chair, and the two of them sat down, unaware of what was happening. Without even having time to realize, both Charlie and Harry felt cups being pushing into their hands.
"I need to know exactly what happened..."
Moody helped tip the stuff down both of the boys' throats; Charlie coughed, a peppery taste burning in his throat. Moody's office came into sharper focus, and so did the Professor himself — he looked as white as a ghost, and both eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon the two Gryffindor's faces.
"Voldemort's back?" Moody asked again, glancing between the two of them. "You're sure he's back? How did he do it?"
"He took stuff... from his father's grave... and from Wormtail... and from Harry," Charlie said softly, trembling even more as he recalled what had happened.
His head felt clearer, but his leg ached in pain. Charlie could now see Moodys face distinctly, even though the office was dark. Jumping slightly, he could still hear screaming and shouting from the distant Quidditch field.
Moody focused his magical eye on Harry, "What did the Dark Lord take from you?"
"Blood," said Harry, raising his arm. His sleeve was ripped where Wormtail's dagger had torn it.
Moody let out his breath in a long, low hiss, "And the Death Eaters? They returned?"
"Y-yeah," stuttered Charlie. "Loads of them... one of them attacked me..."
"How did he treat them?" Moody asked quietly. "Did he forgive them?"
Charlie blinked — what did that have to do with anything?
"There's a Death Eater at Hogwarts!" Harry shouted as he suddenly remembered the key detail of Voldemort's speech. Charlie looked at him curiously; he never heard this part as his hearing kept cutting in and out. "I almost forgot! There's a Death Eater here — they put mine and Charlie's name in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure we got through to the end —"
Harry tried to get up, but Moody pushed him back down.
"I know who the Death Eater is," he said quietly.
"Karkaroff?" Charlie said wildly, remembering that Sirius had told him and Harry to watch out for the foreigner. A sudden sense of worry erupted in Charlie; he couldn't bare facing another Death Eater, "Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up?"
"Karkaroff?" said Moody with an odd laugh. "Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them... but I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies..."
"Karkaroff's gone? He ran away? But then — he didn't put mine and Harry's names in the Goblet?"
"No," said Moody slowly. "No, he didn't. It was I who did that."
Harry and Charlie heard, but didn't believe. They shared a very confused glance.
"No, you didn't," Harry said, bewildered. "You didn't do that... you can't have done..."
"I assure you I did," said Moody, and his magical eye swung around and fixed upon the door, and Charlie knew he was making sure that there was no one outside it. At the same time, Moody drew out his wand and pointed it in Harry and Charlie's direction.
"He forgave them, then?" he said, grasping his wand tightly in his hand. "The Death Eaters who went free? The ones who escaped Azkaban?"
"What?" Charlie said softly in disbelief. He was looking at the wand Moody was pointing at him — this was a bad joke, it had to be.
"I asked you," said Moody quietly, "whether he forgave the scum who never even went to look for him. Those treacherous cowards who wouldn't even brave Azkaban for him. The faithless, worthless bits of filth who were brave enough to cavort in masks at the Quidditch World Cup, but fled at the sight of the Dark Mark when I fired it into the sky."
"You fired... What are you talking about...?"
"I told you... If there's one thing I hate more than any other, it's a Death Eater who walked free. They turned their backs on my Master when he needed them most. I expected him to punish them. I expected him to torture them. Tell me he hurt them..." Moody's face was suddenly lit with an insane smile. "Tell me he told them that I, and I alone remained faithful... prepared to risk everything to deliver to him what he wanted above all..."
Harry was shocked, "You didn't... it — it can't be you..."
"He's gone mad," Charlie whispered, immediately searching for an exit. "He's insane!"
"Oh, no, no, I'm perfectly sane," Moody said creepily. "Marvellous creatures dragons are, aren't they? Do you think that miserable oaf would have led you two into the woods if I hadn't suggested it? Do you think Fleur Delacour would have told you to hold the egg under the water if I hadn't have told her first myself? Do you think Neville Longbottom, the witless wonder, could have provided you with gillyweed if I hadn't have given him the book that led you straight to it? Do you think the Bubble-Head Charm would've been in the Book of Spells had I not written it?!"
Moody's magical eye had now left the door. It was fixed upon the two young Gryffindors. His lopsided mouth leered more widely than ever.
"It was you from the beginning," Charlie spat, pure anger seeping through his voice. "We should have known! The Unforgivable Curses — you bewitched Krum, didn't you? Used him to try and get rid of me and Fleur!"
"That's only half true," Moody said with a twisted smile. "Getting rid of Fleur Delacour was always part of the plan, but you were wanted at the graveyard all along, Charlie. The bond you and Harry share is so deep-rooted in a brother-like love that any fool could've guessed you'd try and win together... they wanted you... both of you. Harry, for obvious reasons, but you," — Moody stared at Charlie so creepily that it sent chills down the boy's spine — "you were either supposed to join the Dark Lord and turn against the ones you love, or die a tragic death, proving to the world the power and the merciless of Lord Voldemort!"
"Yeah, but that didn't happen, did it?" Charlie taunted. "Look at me; still breathing. Guess Voldemort isn't so —"
The boy was cut off as Moody lunged forward, grabbing Charlie by the hair as he placed his wand aggressively under the boy's chin.
"Don't you ever speak ill of Lord Voldemort..."
"You're mad," Charlie spat — he couldn't stop himself — "you're mad!"
"Mad, am I?" said Moody, his voice rising uncontrollably. "We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side! He is back! Harry Potter did not conquer him — and now — I conquer both of you! Just as the Dark Lord instructed..."
"No!" shouted Harry as he stood up and lunged for Moody, but the stronger-built Professor simply knocked the boy with glasses to the ground.
Moody held Charlie's head still as he smiled at him wickedly. Then, within seconds, he opened his mouth to mutter a spell —
"Stupefy!"
There was a blinding flash of red light, and with a great splintering and crashing, the door of Moody's office was blasted apart — Moody was thrown backward onto the office floor.
Charlie, snapping his head back instantly, saw his grandfather, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall looking back at him and Harry as the three of them stood in the doorway, Dumbledore in front, his wand outstretched.
At that moment, Charlie fully understood for the first time why people said his grandfather was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. The look upon Dumbledore's face as he stared down at the unconscious form of Mad-Eye Moody was more terrible than Charlie could have ever imagined.
There was no benign smile upon Dumbledore's face, no twinkle in the eyes behind the spectacles. There was cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Dumbledore as though he were giving off burning heat — it was something his grandson had never seen before...
He stepped into the office, placed a foot underneath Moodys unconscious body, and kicked him over onto his back, so that his face was visible. Snape followed him, glaring into the room. Professor McGonagall went straight to Charlie.
"Come along, Charles," she whispered. The thin line of her mouth was twitching as though she was about to cry. "Come along... hospital wing...."
"No," said Dumbledore sharply, failing to take his eyes off of Moody.
"Dumbledore, he ought to — look at him — he and Potter have been through enough tonight —"
"My grandson will stay, and so will Harry, Minerva, because they need to understand," said Dumbledore curtly. "Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. They need to know who has put them through the ordeal they have suffered tonight, and why,"
"Moody..." Harry said softly as he stood up from the ground. He was still in a state of complete disbelief. "How can it have been Moody?"
"This is not Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore quietly. "You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you and Charlie, I knew — and I followed."
Dumbledore bent down over Moody's limp form and put a hand inside his robes. He pulled out Moody's hip flask and a set of keys on a ring. Then he turned to Professors McGonagall and Snape.
"Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog up to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, then come back here."
If either Snape or McGonagall found these instructions peculiar, they hid their confusion. Both turned at once and left the office.
Dumbledore walked over to a trunk with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. It contained a mass of spell-books. Dumbledore closed the trunk, placed a second key in the second lock, and opened the trunk again. The spellbooks had vanished; this time it contained an assortment of broken Sneako-scopes, some parchment and a few quills.
Charlie watched, astounded, as he limped over when Dumbledore placed the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth keys in their respective locks, reopening the trunk each time, and revealing different contents each time. Then he placed the seventh key in the lock, threw open the lid, and Harry and Charlie let out a cries of amazement.
They were looking down into a dark, underground room, and lying on the floor about ten feet below, apparently fast asleep, thin and starved in appearance, was the real Mad-Eye Moody. His wooden leg was gone, the socket that should have held the magical eye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled hair were missing. Charlie stared, thunderstruck, between the sleeping Moody in the trunk and the unconscious Moody lying on the floor of the office.
Dumbledore climbed into the trunk, lowered himself, and fell lightly onto the floor beside the sleeping Moody, bending over him.
"Stunned — controlled by the Imperius Curse — very weak," he said softly. "Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive. Harry, throw down the imposter's cloak — he's freezing. Madame Pomfrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger."
Harry did as he was told; Dumbledore covered Moody in the cloak, tucked it around him, and clambered out of the trunk again. Then he picked up the hip flask that stood upon the desk, unscrewed it, and turned it over. A thick glutinous liquid splattered onto the office floor.
"Polyjuice Potion," said Dumbledore. "You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never does drink except from his hip flask, he's well known for it. The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the potion. You see his hair..." —Dumbledore looked down on the Moody in the trunk — "The imposter has been cutting it off all year, do you see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done..."
Dumbledore pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, his eyes fixed upon the unconscious Moody on the floor. Harry and Charlie stared at him too as minutes passed in silence...
Then, before their very eyes, the face of the man on the floor began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smooth; the mangled nose became whole and started to shrink.
The long mane of grizzled gray hair was withdrawing into the scalp and turning the color of straw. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place; next moment, the magical eyeball had popped out of the man's face as a real eye replaced it; it rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction.
Charlie saw a man lying before him, pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of hair. He knew who he was, of course. He and Harry had seen him in Dumbledore's Pensieve, and had watched him being led away from court by the dementors... but he was lined around the eyes now and looked much older...
There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Snape had returned with Winky at his heels. Professor McGonagall was right behind them.
"Crouch!" Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. "Barty Crouch Junior?!"
"Good heavens," said Professor McGonagall, stopping dead and staring down at the man on the floor.
Filthy, disheveled, Winky peered around Snape's legs. Her mouth opened wide and she let out a piercing shriek.
"Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?" She flung herself forward onto the young man's chest. "You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!"
"He is just stunned, Winky," Charlie soothed.
"Step aside, please." Dumbledore said sharply, "Severus, you have the potion?"
Snape handed Dumbledore a small glass bottle of a completely clear liquid: the Veritaserum which he had mentioned various times in class before. Dumbledore got up, bent over the man on the floor, and pulled him into a sitting position against the wall, in which everyone was still glaring down upon him.
Winky remained on her knees, trembling, her hands over her face. Dumbledore forced the mans mouth open and poured three drops inside it. Then he pointed his wand at the mans chest and said, "Ennervate."
Crouch's son opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused. Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level.
"Can you hear me?" Dumbledore asked quietly.
The man's eyelids flickered.
"Yes," he muttered.
"I would like you to tell us," said Dumbledore softly, "how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"
Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice.
"My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."
Winky was shaking her head, trembling, "Say no more. Master Barty, say no more, you is getting your father into trouble!"
But Crouch took another deep breath and continued in the same flat voice.
"The dementors are blind. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors. My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. Everyone believed her to be me. Then, when I got home, the house-elf nursed me back to health... when I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my Master... of returning to his service."
"Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup," demanded Dumbledore, choosing to ignore the mention of him returning Voldemort to power.
"I stole a wand," admitted Crouch's son, "and when we went back to the tent, we heard them — the Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my Master. They had turned their backs on him. They were not enslaved, as I was. They were free to seek him, but they did not. They were merely making sport of Muggles. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than it had been in years. I was angry. I wanted to show those Death Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant, and to punish them for their lack of it. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky."
Winky let out a wail of despair.
Crouch's head rolled on his neck, and an insane grin spread across his face. "After my escape at the World Cup, my Master came for me. He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My Master had found out that I was still alive..."
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, "And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?"
"He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He put my father under the Imperious Curse. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter and Charlie Hawthorne through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter, and ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. A servant who would bring the grandson of Albus Dumbledore to him, so he could watch him squirm for mercy... all I had to do was turn the Cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my Master. But first —"
"You needed Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were blazing, though his voice remained calm.
Crouch smiled wicked, "Precisely. Only I, my Master, Wormtail, and my father knew of my plans... and I knew it was only a matter of time before my father would escape, and try to expose me. At last, one evening, my father entered the grounds. I overheard you and your grandson talking about Crouch's sudden appearance, and so I went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. I made it down there before you... and then I stunned Krum and I killed my father..."
"Noooo!" wailed Winky. "Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you saying?"
"You killed your father," Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice. "What did you do with the body?"
"Carried it deep into the Dark Forest where I'm sure the creatures of the night feasted until there was nothing left but bone..."
There was complete silence now, except for Winky's continued sobs. Then Dumbledore said, "And tonight..."
"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Barty Crouch. "Turned it into a Portkey. My Master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards."
The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky wailed and sobbed at his side.
Dumbledore stood up. He stared down at Barty Crouch for a moment with disgust on his face. Then he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted themselves around Barty Crouch, binding him tightly. He turned to Professor McGonagall.
"Minerva," he began softly, "could I ask you to escort Charlie to the hospital wing while I take Harry upstairs to meet with with a guest that has requested to see him? Also, please tell Madame Pomfrey to come down here; we need to get the real Alastor Moody to safety. Then go down into the grounds, find Minister Hawthorne; he should be here now that I have demanded his return... he will undoubtedly want to see Charlie and potentially question Crouch himself."
"Of course," said Professor McGonagall. She looked slightly nauseous, as though she had just watched someone being sick.
Without further questioning, Charlie allowed Professor McGonagall to lead him out of the room towards the hospital wing. He didn't say anything as his mind was racing with so many thoughts that he felt that it was going to explode.
A numbness and a sense of complete unreality were upon him. He didn't want to have to think about anything that had happened since he had first entered the maze. He didn't want to have to examine the memories, fresh and sharp as photographs, which kept flashing across his mind:
The Death Eater torturing him mercilessly.
Mad-Eye Moody, inside the trunk.
Barty Crouch Junior's reveal.
Wormtail, slumped on the ground, cradling his stump of an arm.
Voldemort, rising from the steaming cauldron.
But even more so; the vivid feeling of pain that was haunting him...
When they reached the empty hospital wing, both McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey were quick to escort the boy into a hospital bed. Within a matter of moments, his leg was suspended in the air, and Madame Pomfrey was rushing around searching for a dozen antidotes to the boy's obvious trauma. He didn't look like it, thanks to Dumbledore and Harry's spell, but he was hurting.
Yet, he said nothing. Instead, he kept his head down, not willing to speak after such harsh revelations. He didn't feel like anything was real. He thought this would all be a dream and he'd wake up in the graveyard again, being tortured mercilessly, with no hope or strength left in him —
"If I thought I could help you," McGonagall said gently as she stood at his bedside, carefully examining the weakness shown on his face, "by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it — but I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will only make it worse when you finally decide to let it in. You have shown bravery beyond anything anyone could have expected of you... please remember that."
Again, Charlie didn't say anything. He just nodded and McGonagall decided it was best to let him be by himself, so she swept out of the room leaving the boy to his much-needed silence.
Yet, that too, was short-lived as the door was thrown open and in walked the last person he wanted to see — his father.
"Where is my son?!" Fenwick said in the most worried tone possible as he barrelled towards the boy's bedside, pushing past an annoyed looking Madame Pomfrey. "Oh thanks heavens you're alright!"
Charlie sighed, "I'm fine."
"I doubt that," said Fenwick, eagerly. "Your grandfather told me of tonight's events. You encountered the Dark Lord, is that right? What was he like? I can only assume that he —"
"I don't know," Charlie said flatly, the bags under his eyes more evident than ever. "I was a bit preoccupied getting tortured."
"Torturing such a young boy," muttered Fenwick, with no sign of remorse whatsoever. "The Dark Lord truly is as merciless as they say..."
He trailed off as Madame Pomfrey had approached Charlie's hospital bed once again, this time carrying a Potion in her hands.
"Sleeping Draught," she explained gently. "It'll help you sleep... maybe even let you get some peace."
But before Charlie could respond, Fenwick had seized the Potion from Poppy's hands.
"Very well," he said sharply. "I will make sure he drinks this in due time. As of right now, I'd appreciate it if I could talk to my son in private."
"I'm afraid I can't —"
"But you must," dismissed Fenwick. "As I am the Minister, and what I say shall be final."
Madame Pomfrey gave Charlie one last look. The boy immediately sent a look of apology in her direction before she had scuttled out of the room without saying another word.
Fenwick turned back his son, "So, tell me about —"
"I don't want to talk about it," Charlie said quietly. "I just want to forget it ever happened..."
"Nonsense," laughed Fenwick. "Why on earth would you ever want to forget something as revolutionary as Voldemort offering you a place in his ranks —"
Charlie's head snapped in his father's direction for the first time, his eyes narrowing in the process, "Revolutionary? — wait... how do you know that Voldemort asked me to join him...?"
Fenwick's eyes had widened as he moved back towards Charlie's bedside.
"Must've overheard you mention it to someone," he suggested, avoiding eye contact with his son by glance around the room.
"But I never —"
Charlie trailed off as he took in his father's appearance for the first time. The Minister was wearing the same pinstriped suit that he had on in the chamber of the Great Hall before the Third Task began, but what his son took notice in was the fact that his dress shirt was obviously inside out... it hadn't been before, at least, not to Charlie's recollection — it looked as though he had changed quickly, and hadn't realized...
"Your shirt is inside out," Charlie said simply.
"Oh, is it?" Fenwick said sharply, pulling at his collar. "Must not have noticed."
And with a simple tug at the collar, Charlie was flooded with horror. Flashes of the graveyard had refilled his head, and his body began to tremble...
By moving his collar, Fenwick revealed the same silver pendant that hung from the unidentified Death Eater's neck.
Charlie hadn't even realized it in the moment because of his once weakened state, but the necklace was a replica of the one that his father had given him for Christmas during first year — the Hawthorne family crest.
Overcome with emotion, Charlie tensed, backing into his pillows, trying to move as far away from his father as possible to which the Minister watched him curiously, clearly unaware that his son had figured him out.
Intense feelings of fear, doom, foreboding, and gloom; a sudden urgency to escape, to run away, or get out; the fear that he might lose control of his thoughts and actions; difficulty breathing, a racing heart, and even numbness — all indications that Charlie was on the verge of a panic attack as his world came crashing down.
It all made sense — the sense of familiarity with how the man stood... the necklace... Voldemort's speech about his successors...
Yet, nothing haunted Charlie more than the fact that the man he man he knew as his father, had been the one to torture him upon the Dark Lord's command...
The sick and twisted sense of joy that radiated off of the Death Eater kept taunting Charlie's thoughts — that was his father... his father did that to him... he didn't care... he tried to kill him... his own son... no remorse...
"Charles?" Fenwick called causing Charlie to jump. "Are you alright?"
Charlie simply stared at him. The boy saw no one but a stranger peering back at him... he had no idea who this man that stood before him was... or what this man was capable of anymore...
"You... were... there..." Charlie said softly, fear forming in his voice.
"What are you on about?" asked Fenwick, watching his son intently with a weird look in his eye.
"You were in the graveyard," the boy said with a shaky voice. "You were one of the Death Eaters...
y-you tried to... kill me..."
Fenwick's face had dropped as Charlie was attempting to crawl out of the hospital bed, trying to escape.
"What a preposterous accusation! You're clearly not thinking clearly," barked Fenwick, yet his voice had not been as confident as it normally had been.
"It's not an accusation! My head is clear for the first time in ages! I know what I saw!" Charlie said with a shaky voice. "I saw you... the unidentified Death Eater with the necklace... you were basically kissing the floor that the Dark Lord walked on!" — without a second thought, the boy had turned his head towards the hospital wing door — "HELP! SOMEBODY —"
But the words were muffled as Fenwick slapped one of his hands over his son's mouth, and placed the other around the boy's neck, tightening his airway in the most aggressive way possible as he pinned his son to the hospital bed without hesitation.
"Shut your mouth you stupid, pathetic child," Fenwick's voice had instantly turned as cold as that of Voldemort in the graveyard as he whispered. "Shut your mouth about things you fail to understand."
Charlie released a muffled scream as he tried to break free of his father's grip by shaking his body furiously, but Fenwick was quick to apply more pressure on the boy's neck. Which would evidently work, as the brown eyed boy would stop moving to preserve oxygen in his body as it ran out slowly...
"If anything, I'm shocked on how it took you so long to figure it out," Fenwick growled, an amused smile forming on his face. "But you better listen to me now... if you say one word against me, I will not hesitate to finish the job that I was told to do in that graveyard... do I make myself clear?"
Charlie was at a loss for words. No amount of pain he had felt from the any of the Unforgivable Curses even compared to the fear that was instilled him now — he felt like breaking down... his entire life was a lie... he felt trapped — all he could do was nod his head slowly...
Fenwick smiled sinisterly, "Good."
With that, Fenwick removed his hand from around his son's neck, and Charlie sat up, gasping for air.
The brown eyed boy narrowed his eyes in his father's direction, but the Minister was seemingly unbothered... almost as if he found amusement in the pain and suffering he caused...
Charlie shook his head, panting, "How... how could you... do this..."
"Isn't it obvious?" Fenwick raised a brow, "My pride does not allow me to lose, Charles... I have chosen to be on the winning side of this war..."
"That is completely illogical." Charlie said, aghast. "You've gone mad..."
"Oh, but we all go a little mad sometimes..." Fenwick laughed creepily. "Some of us are just a bit better at hiding it, that's all... I played my part quite well I'd say... had all of you fooled, didn't I?"
"You're psychotic..." Charlie whispered, tears streaming down his face. "You tried to kill me..." — his voice broke slightly — "I'm your son!"
Fenwick's jaw had clenched as he moved back over to Charlie, hissing out, "You are nothing more then a pawn in my 'perfect' Minister image... you were never planned... unwanted... you're nothing to me..."
Charlie whimpered as his father's words cut deep. Suddenly, all of the previous red-flags had made themselves known in the boy's head — how did he not figured this out sooner...?
"Nothing matters to me but serving my Master..." Fenwick continued, taunting the young boy as if it were a game. "And you... so scared by the mere thought of me, isn't that right? Imagine my position as the most loyal and powerful servant of Lord Voldemort... everyone will cower beneath our feet... I wanted that for you, you know? We offered you refuge as the youngest servant of Lord Voldemort to ever live, but you made a fool's decision, didn't you?"
Charlie lowered his head, not saying a word as he trembled beneath the harsh gaze of his father's fury-filled eyes. Fenwick moved in closer to his son, whispering ever so slightly that the young boy felt chills of fear run through his veins.
"That won't happen again, will it, Charles?" Fenwick asked coldly. "The next time the Dark Lord asks you to join him... you will, won't you?"
"I'd rather die," Charlie growled, glancing up to meet his father's gaze with a glare. "The second I get out of this hospital wing — you're finished!"
Fenwick laughed, his lips curling into the creepiest smile imaginable.
"How hysterical," he said in a bone-chilling tone. "You may not fear death, Charles... but there are a lot worse things that can become of you... and the people you love even..." — Fenwick had now grabbed hold of Charlie's face aggressively — "would you like to know how it feels to watch the ones you love die...? I'll force you to watch as I murder them mercilessly..."
The young boy's eyes had widened in disbelief —
"What? Think I'm incapable, do you?" Fenwick teased in a sinister tone as he closed in on his son's face, his breath burning on Charlie's skin. "I was willing to torture my own son... my own blood... to the brink of near death... found joy in it even — what makes you think I'll have any remorse for the blood-traitors and mudbloods that you call friends... you have no idea what I'm capable of... your mother didn't either..."
Charlie whimpered, his hot tears burning his face, his mind too overwhelmed to comprehend the comment made about his mother, "You're sick... twisted... fucking insane!"
"Maybe..." His father taunted, "but I am a man of my word — you keep your mouth shut about what you've seen... and maybe, just maybe... your friends live to see another day... how's that?"
The younger Hawthorne didn't know what to say. His own life was something he would easily give up to serve his father with the rightful justice that he deserved... but when it comes to the lives of his friends and family... that was a whole different story.
Charlie's selfless nature wouldn't allow himself to put anybody's life in danger. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he knew that his actions had caused his father to hurt the ones he loved... so, just like before, he nodded slowly — his silence sealed by the mention of his loved ones.
Fenwick smiled wickedly, slapping the boy on the face in pride, "Good kid..." — he straightened up again, fixed his suit, and switched his tone to have a sense of sarcasm — "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go call the Dementors of Azkaban... as for Barty Crouch Junior has committed a serious crime..." — he stifled an amused laugh — "...and deserves to be punished. See you soon. Recover quickly, won't you? I'll be sure to keep a close eye on you from now on — oh! Almost forgot —"
Then, without even having time to realize it, Fenwick had forced the Sleeping Draught down Charlie's throat, despite the boy's attempt at restraint. The effect was instantaneous. His eyes got heavy quickly, and he felt himself drifting off —
"Sweet dreams, kid..."
And the last thing he saw was Fenwick's creepy smile peering down on him once more before heavy, irresistible waves of dreamless sleep broke over him; he fell back onto his pillows and thought no more.
——————————————
Charlie awoke hours later in a panic. The hospital wing had gone dark, but the moonlight that peered through the windows illuminated enough for him to make out shapes.
His father was gone, Harry appeared to be fast asleep in the hospital bed next to him, about five hundred galleons of the tournament's winnings were placed on his bedside table, and —
"Charlie...?"
A voice whispered, and when Charlie whipped his head around in a startled motion, his face softened as he saw his girlfriend peering back at him in the darkness.
"Are you alright?" Hermione whispered, being mindful of Harry sleeping soundly. "It's late."
Charlie didn't answer the question directly, however, instead he asked, "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to make sure you were okay," Hermione explained softly as she sat down on the chair next to his bed. "I couldn't sleep knowing you were in here. I was worried... I've been here all night..."
"Oh," Charlie said flatly, still trying to recover from the complete whirlwind of horror and fear instilled within him —
"Are you alright?" Hermione repeated, grabbing one of Charlie's hands in hers and caressing it to comfort his obvious tensed state.
"No," Charlie said shakily.
"What's wrong?" His girlfriend whispered, worry evident in her voice now. "Do I need to go wake Madame Pomfrey? What happened —"
"'Mione," Charlie said softly, cutting the girl off from her babbling. "Just — stay with me, okay?"
"Charlie, what are you —"
"Stay with me, please..." he repeated softly, but this time he moved over to the side of his hospital bed, making room for her to join him.
He could see her confused eyes peering back at him through the darkness, but after a moment she crawled into the hospital bed with him.
It didn't take long before the two of them had molded together like a two pieces of a puzzle. Hermione snuggled into his chest, breathing in his scent in relief as she was still recovering from thinking he was dead...
Charlie, on the other hand, held her tightly as he pulled the covers over her. Despite everything that had happened to him, being with Hermione in that moment made all of his problems disappear — she was his light in the midst of such darkness...
Hermione wrapped a hand around his neck, and pulled him down into the same mind-blowing kiss that she had failed to pursue earlier. It was the one thing that they both needed after spending such a horrendous day apart. They both savoured every second of that kiss, channeling every bit of emotion into it — it was the perfect way to end the night.
Pulling away, a smile had formed on Charlie's lips for what felt like, the first time in forever.
"You know," he said softly, "that made everything worth it..."
"I'm glad," Hermione said with a reciprocated smile. "Goodnight Charlie."
With one last peck, Charlie whispered, "Goodnight baby."
As the two fell asleep in each other's arms for the first time, Charlie's final thought was of how no matter what would happen moving forward, he would never let anything happen to Hermione. The fear of losing her was greater than any sense of pain or anger he felt from his father's evil revelation...
He swore, in that moment, that he would protect Hermione Granger until his dying breath, even if that meant keeping his father's secret — he couldn't lose her, just like she couldn't lose him. Looks like their relationship was going to have to remain a secret for a little while longer... heaven forbid his father ever figured out what Hermione truly meant to him...
Regardless, after such a stressful day for the both of them, falling asleep cuddled into one another was exactly what they needed.
Now more than ever, neither of them wanted to be apart...
————————————————
"The end," bellowed Dumbledore, looking around at the entire school that had gathered in the Great Hall, "of another year."
He paused, and his eyes fell upon the his grandson at the Gryffindor table. The young boy's face was still drained as he was still in recovery.
Charlie found that he had only scattered memories of everything that had happened after the events of the Triwizard Tournament. It was as though he had been through too much to take in any more. The recollections he did have were very painful.
"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," Dumbledore said in a distressed tone. "but I must first acknowledge the events that occurred on the night of Third Task... I know it has affected you all, whether you experienced it or not. Therefore, I think that you have the right to know exactly what happened."
Charlie raised his head and stared at his grandfather. Hermione, Harry, and Ron all following suit.
"Lord Voldemort has risen again."
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, being as young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that what Harry Potter and Charlie Hawthorne had experienced in the depths of the maze is the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of their own, is an insult to their pain and suffering."
A weird ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry and Charlie's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.
"Harry Potter and Charlie Hawthorne managed to escape Lord Voldemort," addressed Dumbledore. "They fought for their lives trying to return to Hogwarts. They showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing the Dark Lord, and for this, I honour them."
Dumbledore turned gravely to his grandson and Harry and raised his goblet in their honour. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They muttered their names in pride as the drank from their cups.
When everyone had placed their cups back down, 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.
"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore confidently, "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. 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.
"Remember, that as dark and difficult times draw near, we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy."
——————————————
On the final day of the term, Charlie had cleared out his dorm room for the fourth time and successfully moved his stuff back into the Headmaster's quarters before joining his friends in the crowded Entrance Hall.
"Charlie!"
He looked around, stopping before reaching Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Elaina Dumont was hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Beyond her, far across the grounds, Charlie could see Hagrid helping Madame Maxime to back two of the giant horses into their harness. The Beauxbatons carriage was about to take off.
"We will see each other again, I hope," said Elaina as she reached him, holding out her hand. "It's been quite the year, but I'm glad everything worked out for the best."
Charlie smiled softly as he tried to focus on the positives that had derived from the end of the year:
Sirius Black was back for good.
Rita Skeeter hadn't written another article since the Third Task.
Fenwick Hawthorne was too focused on his partnership deal with Pierre Dumont to bother his son.
Fred and George gladly accepted the Triwizard Tournament winnings and were planning on opening their joke shop once they graduated.
All of his friends and family were safe.
Hermione was his girlfriend.
"Yeah," he said softly, shaking her hand, "me too. I hope you enjoyed your stay."
"Oh, I did indeed," Elaina smiled playfully. "While you were off chasing the girl of your dreams, I happened to meet a charming boy of my own, his name is Noah Dragonfire. He goes to Durmstrang with Krum and his lot."
Charlie couldn't help but laugh at the French girl's excitement, "Guess it all worked out for the best then."
"Guess it did," Elaina smiled. "I'll see you soon, Charlie! Don't cause any more trouble while I'm gone, okay?"
"I'll try," Charlie chuckled, and with that the girl was off.
Charlie's spirits couldn't help but lift slightly as he watched Elaina hurry back across the lawns to Madame Maxime and Fleur Delacour, her hair rippling in the sunlight. He then walked through the crowd and met up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had been watching his conversation with the French girl.
Hermione, as expected, had raised a brow at him, but he was quick to reassure her with a quick, unnoticeable wink before turning to Ron and Harry.
"Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back," said Ron as he peered over to the Black lake. "You reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff?"
"Karkaroff did not steer," said a gruff voice. "He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork."
Krum had come to say good-bye to Hermione.
"Could I have a vord?" he asked her.
"Oh... sure... I guess," said Hermione, glancing at Charlie for reassurance, before following Krum through the crowd and out of sight.
"You'd better hurry up!" Charlie called loudly after her just to be annoying. "The carriages'll be here in a minute!"
He let Harry and Ron keep a watch for the carriages, however, and spent the next few minutes craning his neck over the crowd to try and see what Krum and Hermione might be up to, but to his surprise, they returned quite soon.
"I'm sorry for vot I haff done to you," Krum said abruptly to Charlie, sticking out his hand.
Charlie, taken aback slightly, glanced at Hermione who had been looking up at him with pleading eyes, wanting the boy to drop this vendetta against the Bulgarian.
Sighing, Charlie shook Krum's hand, "Alright."
Krum nodded hesitantly before releasing Charlie's hand and moving to shake the hands of Ron and Harry. Ron looked as though he was suffering some sort of painful internal struggle. Krum had already started walking away when Ron burst out, "Can I have your autograph?"
After receiving a signed bit of parchment from the Bulgarian Seeker, Ron joined his three friends as they walked back through the crowd to a somewhat deserted corridor.
"Oh!" Hermione said abruptly, pulling a small glass jar from her robes, "Almost forgot to tell you! Look what I found!"
The three boys peered at the jar in the girl's hands. Inside were a few twigs, leaves and one large, fat beetle.
"A beetle?" Charlie said with a raised brow as Ron and Harry stifled a laugh.
"Not just a regular old beetle," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "I found out how Rita Skeeter was listening in on private conversations when she wasn't supposed to be coming onto the grounds..."
"How was she doing it?" said Harry at once.
"You see, Rita Skeeter..." Hermione's voice trembled with quiet triumph, "is an unregistered Animagus. She can turn into a beetle!"
"That's never — you're kidding —" Ron whispered, lifting the jar to his eyes.
"No, I'm not," said Hermione, beaming. "I caught her on the windowsill in the hospital wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears."
"You're amazing, you are," Charlie said in awe as he stared at his girlfriend who smiled back at him before taking the jar back from Ron; the beetle buzzed angrily.
"I've told her I'll let her out when we get back to London," smirked Hermione as she placed the jar back into her robes. "I've put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can't transform. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people."
The core four laughed simultaneously as they walked down the corridor. They had all seemingly carried on until Hermione came to an abrupt stop that caused the three Gryffindor boys to follow suit and look at her curiously.
She spoke in a soft, worried whisper, "Everything's going to change now, isn't it?"
Harry sighed before moving over to her and wrapping a brother-like arm around her shoulder, "Yes — yes it is."
"Just for once... just once..." Ron exaggerated, "I'd like to have a quiet year at Hogwarts. Is that too much to ask?"
"That'd be a bit boring, no?" Charlie laughed. "What's life without a few dragons?"
"Normal," Ron said, flatly.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Charlie's right, Ron. We'll have to leave here someday, you know. For good. Best enjoy it while we can. Dragons and all. Besides, we'll be alright, as long as we stay together — which reminds me, promise me you'll all write this summer!"
"Well I won't," Ron laughed. "You already know I won't."
"Harry will," Hermione suggested. "Won't you, Harry?"
"Sure," Harry said sarcastically. "Every week."
Hermione rolled her eyes again and turned to her boyfriend, "And you?"
A teasing smirk formed on Charlie's face, "Do I really have a choice?"
"Nope," Hermione smiled widely as she scuttled passed him towards her, Ron, and Harry's carriage that was getting ready to go to Hogsmeade Station.
Charlie bid a bittersweet farewell to his friends and his girlfriend before retreating back through the now deserted castle.
Over a balcony he watched as the flying horses pulled a carriage off into the distance, the Durmstrang ship sank under the Black Lake, and the Hogwarts carriages began to move one by one.
"Charlie!"
He heard a voice call, and he turned around instantly. To his surprise, Hermione was running towards him, a wide smile of her face.
"What are you doing?" Charlie said, slightly confused, as she moved closer to him. "Your carriage is about to leave."
"I know," Hermione laughed as she reached him, "but I forgot something."
"Oh?" Charlie raised a teasing brow. "And what is it that you forgot this time?"
Hermione smiled, snaking her hands around his neck, "This..."
And with that, she pulled him into a goodbye kiss — a kiss that would have to tie them over until they saw each other again.
Only the smile appearing on their faces would break the kiss.
"You think you're clever, don't you?" Charlie teased as they pulled away. "Pretty cheeky trick you pulled just then, Granger."
"I know," Hermione smiled bashfully, "but I wanted to say goodbye to you the proper way." — she rested her forehead on his as she kept her arms around him, the tone in her voice softening — "you'll come visit me this summer, won't you?"
"Oh absolutely," Charlie said softly, a playful look forming in his eyes. "Especially if we can do this..."
They kissed again.
"...and this..."
Another kiss.
"...and this."
And another —
"Okay, okay," Hermione smiled as they pulled away, slightly flustered. "I've really got to go." — she placed a final kiss on Charlie's lips before she untangled herself from around him — "Bye baby, I miss you already."
Charlie shook his head to stifle a laugh as he watched his girlfriend retreat back down the hall before she was out of sight once again. Internally, he was punching the air out of excitement — it should be illegal how much that girl made him smile.
He turned back around, and looked off the balcony once more. The last of the Hogwarts carriages were now pulling away as Hermione found her way back. Charlie looked around, breathing in the fresh air before exhaling slowly.
Despite the whirlwind of emotions that his fourth year at Hogwarts provoked, Charlie Hawthorne decided in that moment that what would come, would come... and he would just have to meet it when it did.
——————————————
Author's Note:
*this chapter was not proof read*
Anddddd we're done Goblet of FIYA! Now, on to Order of the Phoenix!!!!
Sorry this chapter took so long to write! I'm back to work as of Monday, and I'm trying to write around my work schedule, so it's kinda difficult — please bare with me!
I hope you guys enjoyed the big twists of this chapter! Most of you probably already guessed that Fenwick was a Death Eater lmfao
Here's to hoping that I don't regret revealing that twist so soon in the series... lol
Anywayssssss
Hope you enjoyed! If you did, be sure to show some love! Vote, comment, share, etc.
Thank you SO much for over 10k reads! Your support for this story is INSANE!
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xo, Selena
p.s. comment what you think are some cute couple nicknames that Charmione would use lmfao