Harry walked with Professor Moody, his heart heavy, his nose lodged with snot, eyes puffy. He had lost Finley, and he couldn't help but blame himself for being so weak, for not being able to defend his only sister from the man whose initial plan was to kill him. His body shook, devastated with the loss that he had not realised that they arrived in the defence against dark arts office. Hearing the door close shut, he stood there in the middle of the room, frozen.
Moody pulled out a stool and guided Harry to sit down by a large crate. What was Harry doing here? Shouldn't he be with Finley?
Moody pulled him away from his sister, pulled him away from her when he needed ti be there with her. No one was going to mourn for her when her only family left was him, he needed to be there.
"Are you alright Potter?" Moody asked him. Placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, inquiring him if he was alright. How could he be alright? He shouldn't be here grabbing tea!
"I need to get back to my sister," he excused himself as he attempted to stand up but was pulled back down by the professor. But his works fell on deaf ears, the man seemed to be more concerned by the wound on his arm than the dead girl which Harry calls his family.
"Does it hurt? That?"
"It doesn't matter! My sister needs me!" Harry yelled as he forcibly stands up from the professor's grip but remained fruitless.
"Perhaps I better take a look at it," Moody spoke, ignoring Harry's protests as he opened the ripped sleeve and saw the straight slit on Harry's forearm. "The cup was a port key," Harry gritted as he started putting pieces together, this man in front of him placed the cup in the maze. He was the one who brought him and Cedric to the graveyard, and might also be the reason why his sister ended up there in the first place.
"What was it like?"
Harry stared at the man confused. What was what like? To see his sister get murdered? To get his forearm slit?
"What was he like?"
"Who?" Harry narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him, slowly his suspicions were becoming correct.
"The Dark Lord."
"What was it like to stand in his presence?"
"I don't know," Harry replied glumly, patting his pockets for his wand, or anything that might be used as a weapon against this crazy man. "It was like I'd fallen into one of my dreams, into one of my nightmares," Harry says as he observed the professor who had his back turned from him. Watching his body shake as if he was transforming, the man took his flask and opened it, trying to drink from it but non came out from it.
Moody rushed tiwards the closed curtain where as Harry followed him, he opened a chest filled with bottle, scanning them and yet none of them were full of the thing he had been drinking. Harry could see how he frantically checks every bottle before gasping.
"Were there others?" He asked Harry. "In the graveyard, were there others?"
Harry paused, he had never mentioned on a graveyard to him or to anyone. He looks up to Moody, his eyes now narrowed and accusatory. "I don't think I said anything about a graveyard, professor."
Harry took as a step back as Moody paced towards him with an insane look in his eye. "Marvellous creatures, dragons, aren't they?"
"Do you think that miserable oaf would've led you into the woods, if I hadn't suggested it?"
Harry watched as the man scattered himself around the room as if he was looking for something. Something he desperately needed at the moment, his heart hammering in his chest. "Do you think Cedric Diggory would've told you to open the egg underwater, if I hadn't told him first myself?" He exclaimed taking out a bottle from the cabinet.
"Do you think Neville Longbottom the witless wonder, could've provided you with gillyweed if I hadn't given him the book, that lead him straight to it?" The man barked at Harry, the poor boy now standing with his back pressed against the wall. So, Moody had been the one behind it all, he had been the one to help him through the task and he thought he was lucky.
"It was you from the beginning. You put my name in the Goblet of Fire," Harry stated angrily, it was because of this man, this insane man, he got himself in this mess. "You bewitched Krum, but you—"
"But... but..."
"You won because I made it so, Potter." Moody tells him, his voice hard and agitated. "You ended up in that graveyard tonight because it was meant to be so. And now the deed is done."
"You're sick!" Harry spat. Moody takes Harry's cut arm causing the boy to scream in pain.
"The blood that runs through these veins runs within the Dark Lord," Moody exclaimed as he started to smell his thumb that had Harry's blood. Walking away and back towards the cabinet before growling at Harry startling him from the corner where he stood. This man was mad, too mad to even see reason in his actions.
"Imagine how he will reward me when he learns, that I have once and for all, silenced the great Harry Potter—"
"Expelliarmus!" A voice thundered in the room, throwing Moody back against the wall, Dumbledore and two teachers running inside to his rescue. McGonagall running point her wand at Moody like Dumbledore while Snape had him drink a potion.
"That's it take it!"
"Do you know who I am?" Dumbledore demanded.
"Albus Dumbledore," Moody spoke staring right into Dumbledore's eyes.
"Are you Alastor Moody? Are you?"
"No."
"Is he in this room?" Dumbledore demanded from the man who wasn't the real Moody. The imposter's eyes landed on the chest where Harry stood next to, the three adults faced the chest to see Harry confused. "Harry get away from there!" Dumbledore exclaimed, startling Harry to move away from the chest towards McGonagall's back.
With one wave from Snape's wand, the chest opened to multiple forms of chests with locks, towering up until it stopped. Cautiously the three adults approached the chest, and peaked inside, at the very bottom sat the real Alastor Moody.
"You all right, Alastor?" Dumbledore asked the man at the very bottom.
"I'm sorry, Albus."
Harry peaked in and was even more confused. "That's Moody, but then who's?" His question trailed, hearing a flask click open, Snape sniffed the flask and winced at the putrid smell.
"Polyjuice Potion."
The potion that Harry was accused of for making, it was the fake Moody this entire time. "Now we know who's been stealing from your stores, Severus," Albus spoke before turning to the man on the bottom of the chest. "We'll get you up in a minute."
Now turning to the fake Moody, his face was contorting to weird angles, the potion was wearing off clearly. The gagging sound added even more anticipation to who this man was and why he did what he did. The man's restraints were ripped off as he took off the eye that was on his face. The imposter Moody taking form of a face that Harry only saw once in Dumbledore's memory.
"Barty Crouch Junior."
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," the man spoke as he lifted his sleeve revealing a dark mark on his arm. Dumbledore tugged on Harry's injured arm and compared it to the one Barty had, the bloodly arm held no specific details to the one tattooed on the man's arm.
"You know what this means, don't you?" The man grinned maniacally. "He's back, Lord Voldemort has returned."
Snape grabbed hold of Barty's collar in anger, pure hatred burned the potion Professor's eyes. His hate for the name, the name of the man that killed the woman he loved, and girl he promised to take care off. "What are you going to do Snape? Kill me?" Barty chuckled.
"How pathetic of you."
"You had my sister killed!" Harry gritted. He too felt so much anger within him, he wanted to do the unforgivable and kill the man who caused him so much this year.
"Send an owl to Azkaban. I think they'll find they're missing a prisoner," Dumbledore spoke, placing a hand on Snape's shoulder, making his presence known.
"I'll be welcomed back like a hero."
"Perhaps, but personally, I've never had much time for heroes," Dumbledore spoke as he pulled Harry out of the room, leaving Snape pointing his wand at Barty.
Draco crumbled inside as he watched the hospital wing filled with people, the room filled with tulips, lilies and such. He was the only one who showed up with a single carnation, Finley's favourite flower. Slytherins were scattered, much to their family's protests, they all went to the hospital wing to get one last glimpse from the girl that was their own.
To Draco, he felt like he was left with the most burden on his shoulders, his last memory of her was of him being a humongous jerk to her. Calling her names because she was Harry's sister. His mind wandering back to their kitchen raiding adventures and their dancing in the room of requirements. The way she had been able to open up to him, as he did to her. No more were those fun times, it was time to grow up, she died along with his petty views. There was no one as high as anyone else once death comes knocking. It just so happened that death knocked on the wrong door.
Harry sat next to Finley's covered body, looking down on the sheets, she was going to be moved to a casket in a few hours. They were going to bury her in Godric's hollow where his parents were. Funny how the first time he would see his parents' resting place was during his sister's funeral. Damn the life he had to live in.
Draco stood next to Harry, though he hated him with passion, Finley certainly didn't deserve it. She was meant to live far longer than any of them deserved, he knew that so well. He placed the carnation on the blanket in front of Harry in which the boy looked up at him, glaring.
"I'm only here for her," he clarified, swallowing the lump on his throat. Harry didn't have the heart to say anything to him, he just glared, interested in Draco's motives. Was this Malfoy's sick way of saying good riddance to half bloods and muggle borns?
"Believe it or not Potter, she had been my friend too," Draco spoke, trying to not cause a commotion. As much as his father's worship towards the man who killed the girl he loved, he respected Harry enough to shut up and not say anything.
"Why do I find that so hard to believe?" Harry scoffed.
"I find it hard to believe too," he spoke, looking down. The war has started, as much as his mother would hate to see him grow up, he knew that things were going to get worst from here. Finley was the first of many deaths, and Voldemort already destroyed his chances of having his loyalty. Every Slytherin in the room's loyalty now laid with boy who mourned for his sister, as much as they hated the Gryffindors, Finley was their good Slytherin faery. She's part of them.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry spoke, venom laced in his voice. Behind Draco was Blaise and Theo, both sported stone cold eyes and blank expressions.
"If the Dark Lord is able to kill a Slytherin, what is to say that he won't kill us too," Blaise spoke, everyone in the room could shiver at how icy he sounded. "He would be going after everyone who defies his beliefs."
"Finley is like a sister to me Potter, she didn't deserve to die, and the dark lord made the mistake of killing her," Blaise tells Harry as he clenched his fist. "He will pay."
Pansy Parkinson, the most unexpected person walked up, placing a gardenia on the blanket over Finley. Her face ice cold. "I may hate her, but I cannot deny that she's a Slytherin too." She looked up towards the boys, "And if the Dark Lord is able to kill someone half blood and a Slytherin, what hope do our Half blood snakes have?"
"What are you all on about?" Harry snapped, especially at Draco whom he hated since his first year.
"We're saying is that, the Slytherins will stand by you Potter. This is for the better of all," Draco spoke, never in Harry's life would he view Malfoy as mature, and yet here he was standing in front of him. Declaring loyalty to his right, all for the sake of his sister's death. This may as well be the start of a strong alliance, if only Finley could wake up and see them now.
Rayah's note:
Taking a break for a few days. This is the end of Goblet of Fire. Forgive me.