Chapter Text
Ch.47 The Murder of Mr. Crouch
27th May 1995
Headmaster's office, Hogwarts
A second later the flames started receding and Dumbledore's office started coming into view. Harry suddenly saw a beam of red light coming at them and instinctively erected a shield and retaliated with a disarming hex even before the flames. As the flames died, Harry exactly saw who exactly had shot the spell at him: Alastor Moody... who went flying back as Harry's disarmer hit him and his wand soared towards Harry who caught it instinctively with his seeker reflexes.
"Alastor! Harry... Ms. Delacour and Barty!" Dumbledore sputtered grasping his wand tightly. "Alastor, there are no hostiles. Put your wand back." He added, giving a sideways glance at the DADA professor who had another wand in his hand.
"What's happening!?" A voice demanded frantically. Harry looked and saw Fudge peeking out from beneath the Headmaster's desk.
"Get up Cornelius. I am sure that Mr. Potter and Ms. Delacour would explain what is happening here. And Barty, what are you doing here?"
Crouch gasped wide-eyed. "Du-Dumbledore. Yo-you must hear me out! All my fault I-I did a stupid mistake! Stupid stupid m-m-is-mistake," He stuttered before his eyes glazed and turned around and started talking to an imaginary person, "Yes Weatherby. Yes, whatever help the ministry may need, I will be available. Now you may go. If there is anything owl me."
"What the devil is happening?" Fudge half-yelled. "Barty! Barty! Crouch!"
"Minister, calm yourself. I think Mr. Crouch is under the imperious curse."
"I-Imperious curse?" Fudge stuttered as Moody stunned Crouch who was still muttering to 'Weatherby'. We all looked at him in shock.
"What? He is under the imperious curse! He may attack us. Constant Vigilance!" Moody replied, his wand still pointed at the stunned figure of Crouch.
"Mr. Potter, Ms. Delacour, can you please tell us what exactly happened?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, as you know that Mr. Bagman had called the champion to the Quidditch pitch at 9.00 PM for briefing us about the third task. After that, Fleur wished to have a word with me and I escorted her towards the Beauxbatons carriage so we could talk. Before we could begin, I heard a rustling from the forbidden forest, and moments later Mr. Crouch stumbled out." Harry said.
"Then he asked for you. His speech was sort of incoherent and his eyes were glazing in and out of focus. Fleur and I both recognized the symptoms of the Imperious being fought. So, I immediately called Hedwig and she brought us to you."
"Hedwig?" Fudge asked.
"My phoenix... the white one sitting next to Fawkes," Harry replied and Hedwig trilled in agreement.
"Ah, er, Headmaster, can you do something about Barty? Like, break him out of the curse?" Fudge asked.
"I am afraid, that breaking the curse would take a specialist. I might be able to break the curse but, I cannot assure that there will be no damage to his mind. The mind, after all, is a delicate thing. And, we are dealing with an Imperious curse here so all bets are off." Dumbledore replied.
So, even Dumbledore hadn't mastered the method. But, to be frank, the art of breaking an Imperious through Legilimency required a lot of experience with Mind-healing... which was a mastery course in its own in the medical field. The healers with that mastery charged the highest fees too.
I caught Dumbledore's eye and sent a Legilimency-message to him. 'Someone has put up an artificial mind shield on Crouch.I cannot read his mind.'
The worse part was that the healer would have to break through the enchantment on Crouch's mind first before he or she could proceed to dismantle the Imperious. It made the procedure all the more risky and complicated.
Dumbledore showed no outward reaction but, Harry could see the wizened Headmaster's eyes becoming more alert. "We must immediately take Barty to St. Mungo's," Dumbledore said in a grave tone. "Cornelius, please arrange an auror guard for him as soon as possible. The one who put Barty under the imperious curse might attack him again. It will be prudent to arrange security for Barty."
"Yes," Moody grunted. "Barty was the head of DMLE at the height of the blood-war and capable enough to throw off the imperious completely. Someone who could successfully put him under the curse must be a powerful dark wizard. He or she may attack him again."
Dumbledore and Harry shared a look, knowing there was only one person capable enough to do it apart from them: Lord Voldemort.
"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Cornelius, arrange for the security while Alastor and I will take Barty to St. Mungo's and ensure that he is safe till the auror detail arrives. Tell Amelia that a couple of Hit-wizards would be appreciated too."
"Yes, right away," Fudge said and hurried to the floo before flooing to the ministry.
Dumbledore turned to us. "Mr. Potter, Ms. Delacour, I request you both to go back to the Gryffindor tower and Beauxbatons carriage respectively, and stay there until the morning. Any talk, letter, or other things can wait till then. And, please do not discuss what happened here openly as it may soon turn into a DMLE investigation. And, you both know what that means."
"Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore," Fleur replied while Harry gave a nod.
Dumbledore waved his wand and a parchment appeared with something already written on it but, before Harry could read it, the parchment rolled itself. "Fawkes, take this letter along with Ms. Delacour to the Beauxbatons carriage. The letter is for Olympe."
Fawkes trilled and flew off his perch before taking the letter from Dumbledore's hand in his beak and coming to sit on Fleur's shoulder. A second later, the two vanished in a ball of flames.
"I'll take your leave, sir," Harry said and extended his arm on which Hedwig settled herself. Harry walked towards the door as Moody patted him.
"You have good reflexes lad. You'll make a mighty fine hit-wizard one day if you pursue the career," Moody praised. Harry smiled at him and went out of the room, leaving Crouch in the hands of Dumbledore and Moody.
27th May 1995
Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN CROUCH ESCAPED!" Tom Riddle roared at the cowering servant.
"M-my lord! H-he fought the curse and knocked me down with a vase when m-my b-back was turned."
"Crucio!"
The man writhed in pain due to the torture curse that his lord put him under.
"Rookwood!" Voldemort called, lifting the torture curse. "Rookwood! Where is he?"
Suddenly, the door opened and the man in question rushed in and kneeled. "My Lord, our spy has sent a word. Barty Crouch went to Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts... did he?"
"No Master. Our spy says that he was found by Potter and the Beauxbatons champion. Crouch was still fighting the imperious. So, Potter took him to Dumbledore from where he was taken to St. Mungos. As far as he is aware, Crouch hasn't given away anything yet. Also, Fudge has arranged a security detail for the man. Six Aurors and two hit-wizards on rotation. So at any given time, there will be a hit-wizard and three Aurors present there."
"Excellent. I want Crouch dead before dawn. Both of you see to it that he is dead. And, do not, I repeat, DO NOT fire the dark mark under any circ*mstances."
"Yes, Milord. I assure you that Barty Crouch will be dead before dawn." Rookwood said. "Are we to kill the Aurors and Hitwiz—"
"No. Killing Crouch will cause a panic as it is. If you kill the security as well, there may be even greater consequences. We do not want to be revealed before I return to my body. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good. Do not fail me this time... or the consequences will be... grave."
"Yes, Master."
28th May 1995
Chamber of Secrets, Hogwarts
Harry waved his wand and a dozen knives materialized in mid-air before shooting towards the dummy at high velocity. Harry whirled around and shot a gouging curse followed by a severing curse at another before deflecting a barrage of bone breakers and blasting curses. He spun out of the way of a green-colored blasting curse(meant to signify Avada Kedavra) before exploding the dummy's head with the head-exploding curse... a curse from the Black family Grimoire which was as lethal as a killing curse... only with more gore.
Harry ducked under a blood-boiling curse before returning fire with an organ-liquefying curse followed by a rotting curse. The dummy shielded against the first but the rotting curse tore through the shield and impacted it straight on its chest. Harry tilted his head as he felt a stunner coming at his head from behind. The curse harmlessly whizzed past his ear. Harry whirled around and fired a rib-crusher at the dummy, taking it down too.
If someone knew what type of spells Harry was practicing, he would be labeled as a dark wizard in an instant.
As Harry put the last dummy down, Salazar called. "Harry! Come fast!"
Harry apparated straight to the study where Salazar's and Helga's portraits were. "What happened?"
"Barty Crouch has been found murdered in his room at Saint Mungos. His security detail was found stunned at the site. From what we know so far, two men had done it before proceeding to murder Crouch with a killing curse."
"What? Damn. Voldemort?"
"Most likely yes, Crouch has been killed on orders of Tom by his followers. But, there was no Dark Mark cast."
"They must've wanted to maintain anonymity," Helga said with a worried expression.
"I must inform this to Dumbledore immediately," Harry said.
"Yes. But, become presentable before you go," Salazar said.
Harry nodded and used a drying and cleaning charm before transfiguring his exercise clothes into a robe. He also applied a sweet-scent charm to his clothes followed by a wrinkle-removing charm.
After checking his attire, he summoned the marauder's map and saw that Dumbledore was in his office. So, Harry apparated straight in front of the Gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office and said, "co*ckroach cluster."
The Gargoyle sprang to life and jumped aside. Harry hurried through the gap in the walls and stepped onto the foot of a spiral stone staircase, which moved slowly upward as the doors closed behind him, taking him up to a polished oak door with a brass door knocker. He knocked at the door and pushed the door open.
His eyes immediately found Dumbledore who was holding some weird trinkets in his hands. He had a startled expression on his face.
"Harry, my boy, I am a little busy. This—"
"Barty Crouch has been murdered," Harry said without preamble. Dumbledore blinked in shock before composing himself.
"Yes, he has been. I do not know how you came to know of this so soon, but if you're here to ask me if I have any clue, I don't. I am going there to investigate right now. I request you to wait here till I return. Till then, see these," Dumbledore said with a wave of his wand. Suddenly, a cabinet opened, and a pensive soared out of it before setting itself on the headmaster's desk.
"See if you find anything peculiar and tell me once I return," saying so, Dumbledore disapparated silently.
"Well, that went well," Harry muttered before hurrying to the pensive and putting his head in it.
He felt the sensation of memory viewing. Dumbledore's office gave an almighty lurch - Harry was thrown forward and pitched headfirst into the memory; it was like being sucked into a dark whirlpool. He arrived in what Harry recognized as courtroom nine. The place where high-level criminal cases took place.
[AN: Most of the following is taken from the canon- Ch.30 of GOF- with minuscule changes. I still implore you to read it though.]
The room was dimly lit, for there were no windows, merely torches in brackets such as the ones that illuminated the walls of Hogwarts. Harry saw that rows and rows of witches and wizards were seated around every wall on what seemed to be benches rising in levels. The Wizengamot seemed to be filled. Harry also saw the empty seats of Potter and Black families. He recognized several faces and some he didn't. For example, there was some man in the Greengrass seat and not Cyrus.
An empty chair stood in the very center of the room. The chair where criminals were tied down.
The Wizengamot seemed to be waiting for something, all of their faces seemed to be pointing in one direction, and none of them were talking to one another. There was no joy there. Only stoniness and an air of anticipation and tension.
He looked next to him and saw Dumbledore sitting in the Chief Warlock's seat.
The door in the corner of the dungeon opened and people entered - first a few Aurors, then a man in chains flanked by two dementors, and then again followed by Aurors.
'f*cking hell. How high profile case is this?' Harry asked himself.
The watching crowd recoiled slightly as the dementors placed the man in the chained chair and glided back out of the room. The door swung shut behind them. Harry looked down at the man now sitting in the chair and saw that it was Karkaroff. Igor Karkaroff.
Unlike Dumbledore, Karkaroff looked much younger; his hair and goatee were black. He was not dressed in sleek furs but thin and ragged robes. He was shaking. Even as Harry watched, the chains on the arms of the chair glowed suddenly gold and snaked their way up Karkaroff's arms, binding him there.
"Igor Karkaroff," said a curt voice to Harry's left. Harry looked around and saw Mr. Crouch standing up in the middle of the bench beside him. Crouch's hair was dark, his face was much less lined, he looked fit and alert. "You have been brought from Azkaban to present evidence to the Ministry of Magic. You have given us to understand that you have important information for us."
Damn. He was seeing the death eater trials that took place thirteen years ago.
Karkaroff straightened himself as best he could, tightly bound to the chair. "I have, sir," he said, and although his voice was very scared, Harry could still hear the familiar unctuous note in it. "I wish to be of use to the Ministry. I wish to help. I - I know that the Ministry is trying to - to round up the last of the Dark Lord's supporters. I am eager to assist in any way I can..."
There was a murmur around the benches. Some of the wizards and witches were surveying Karkaroff with interest, others with pronounced mistrust. Then Harry heard, quite distinctly, from Dumbledore's other side, a familiar, growling voice saying, "Filth."
Harry leaned forward so that he could see past Dumbledore. Mad-Eye Moody was sitting there - except that there was a very noticeable difference in his appearance. He did not have his magical eye, but two normal ones. Both were looking down upon Karkaroff, and both were narrowed in intense dislike.
"Crouch is going to let him out," Moody breathed quietly to Dumbledore. "He's done a deal with him. Took me six months to track him down, and Crouch is going to let him go if he's got enough new names. Let's hear his information, I say, and throw him straight back to the dementors." Dumbledore made a small noise of dissent through his long, crooked nose.
"Ah, I was forgetting... you don't like the dementors, do you, Albus?" said Moody with a sardonic smile.
"No," said Dumbledore calmly, "I'm afraid I don't. I have long felt the Ministry is wrong to ally itself with such creatures."
"But for filth like this . . ." Moody said softly.
"You say you have names for us, Karkaroff," said Mr. Crouch. "Let us hear them, please."
"You must understand," said Karkaroff hurriedly, "that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named operated always in the greatest secrecy... He preferred that we, I mean to say, his supporters - and I regret now, very deeply, that I ever counted myself among them—"
"Get on with it," sneered Moody.
"—We never knew the names of every one of our fellows - He alone knew exactly who we all were—"
"Which was a wise move, wasn't it, as it prevented someone like you, Karkaroff, from turning all of them in," muttered Moody.
"Yet you say you have some names for us?" said Mr. Crouch.
"I - I do," said Karkaroff breathlessly. "And these were important supporters, mark you. People I saw with my own eyes doing his bidding. I give this information as a sign that I fully and totally renounce him, and am filled with remorse so deep I can barely—"
"These names are?" said Mr. Crouch sharply.
Karkaroff drew a deep breath.
"There was Antonin Dolohov," he said. "I - I saw him torture countless Muggles and - and non-supporters of the Dark Lord."
"And helped him do it," murmured Moody.
"We have already apprehended Dolohov," said Crouch. "He was caught shortly after yourself."
"Indeed?" said Karkaroff, his eyes widening. "I - I am delighted to hear it!" But he didn't look it. Harry could tell that this news had come as a real blow to him. One of his names was worthless.
"Any others?" said Crouch coldly.
"Why, yes... there was Rosier," said Karkaroff hurriedly. "Evan Rosier."
"Rosier is dead," said Crouch. "He was caught shortly after you were too. He preferred to fight rather than come quietly and was killed in the struggle."
"Took a bit of me with him, though," whispered Moody to Harry's right. Harry looked around at him once more and saw him indicating the large chunk out of his nose to Dumbledore.
"No - no more than Rosier deserved!" said Karkaroff, a real note of panic in his voice now. Harry could see that he was starting to worry that none of his information would be of any use to the Ministry. Karkaroff's eyes darted toward the door in the corner, behind which the dementors undoubtedly still stood, waiting.
"Any more?" said Crouch.
"Yes!" said Karkaroff. "There was Travers - he helped murder the McKinnons! Mulciber - he specialized in the Imperius Curse, forced countless people to do horrific things! Rookwood, who was a spy, and passed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named useful information from inside the Ministry itself!" Harry could tell that this time, Karkaroff had struck gold. The watching crowd was all murmuring together.
"Rookwood?" said Mr. Crouch, nodding to a witch sitting in front of him, who began scribbling upon her piece of parchment. "Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries?"
"The very same," said Karkaroff eagerly. "I believe he used a network of well-placed wizards, both inside the Ministry and out, to collect information—"
"But Travers and Mulciber we have," said Mr. Crouch. "Very well, Karkaroff, if that is all, you will be returned to Azkaban while we decide—"
"Not yet!" cried Karkaroff, looking quite desperate. "Wait, I have more!"
Harry could see him sweating in the torchlight, his white skin contrasting strongly with the black of his hair and beard. "Snape!" he shouted. "Severus Snape!"
Harry leaned forward in interest. Finally, Snivellus. He may get something here.
"Snape has been cleared by this council," said Crouch disdainfully. "He has been vouched for by Albus Dumbledore."
"No!" shouted Karkaroff, straining at the chains that bound him to the chair. "I assure you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!"
Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. "I have given evidence already on this matter," he said calmly. "Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side before Lord Voldemort's downfall and turned spy for us, at great personal risk. He is now no more a Death Eater than I am." Harry turned to look at Mad-Eye Moody. He was wearing a look of deep skepticism behind Dumbledore's back.
Harry had a similar opinion to Moody and Karkaroff: Snape was a death eater despite whatever he had led Dumbledore to believe and deserved nothing less than Azkaban.
"Very well, Karkaroff," Crouch said coldly, "you have been of assistance. I shall review your case. You will return to Azkaban in the meantime..." Mr. Crouch's voice faded. Harry looked around; the dungeon was dissolving as though it were made of smoke; everything was fading; he could see only his own body - all else was swirling darkness... And then, the dungeon returned.
Harry was sitting in a different seat, still on the highest bench, but now to the left side of Mr. Crouch. The atmosphere seemed quite different: relaxed, even cheerful. The witches and wizards all around the walls were talking to one another, almost as though they were at some sort of sporting event. Harry noticed a witch halfway up the rows of benches opposite. She had short blonde hair, was wearing magenta robes, and was sucking the end of an acid-green quill. It was, unmistakably, a younger Rita Skeeter. Harry looked around; Dumbledore was sitting beside him again, wearing different robes. Mr. Crouch looked more tired and somehow fiercer, gaunter... Harry understood. It was a different memory, a different day... a different trial. The door in the corner opened, and Ludo Bagman walked into the room.
This time, he was only escorted by four Aurors.
"Ludovic Bagman, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters," said Mr. Crouch. "We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to add to your testimony before we pronounce judgment?"
Ludo Bagman. Harry was confused about the man. The best opinion Harry had about the man was that he was an idiot. He bore no dark mark on his arm and neither was he powerful or skilled enough to be one. He had barely scraped an acceptable in wand-subjects in his owls. But, the man was a Quidditch prodigy. One of the best beaters the country had seen.
"Only," said Bagman, smiling awkwardly, "well - I know I've been a bit of an idiot—"
So even Bagman himself admitted it.
"You never spoke a truer word, boy," someone muttered dryly to Dumbledore behind Harry. He looked around and saw Moody sitting there again. "If I didn't know he'd always been dim, I'd have said some of those Bludgers had permanently affected his brain..."
"Ludovic Bagman, you were caught passing information to Lord Voldemort's supporters," said Mr. Crouch. "For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than -" But there was an angry outcry from the surrounding benches. Several of the witches and wizards around the walls stood up, shaking their heads, and even their fists, at Mr. Crouch.
"But I've told you, I had no idea!" Bagman called earnestly over the crowd's babble, his round blue eyes widening. "None at all! Old Rookwood was a friend of my dad's . . . never crossed my mind he was in with You-Know-Who! I thought I was collecting information for our side! And Rookwood kept talking about getting me a job in the Ministry later on... once my Quidditch days are over, you know... I mean, I can't keep getting hit by Bludgers for the rest of my life, can I?"
There were titters from the crowd. "It will be put to the vote," said Mr. Crouch coldly. He turned to the right-hand side of the dungeon. "The jury will please raise their hands . . . those in favor of imprisonment..."
Harry looked toward the right-hand side of the dungeon. Not one person raised their hand. Many of the witches and wizards around the walls began to clap. One of the witches on the jury stood up. "Yes?" barked Crouch. "We'd just like to congratulate Mr. Bagman on his splendid performance for England in the Quidditch match against Turkey last Saturday," the witch said breathlessly. Mr. Crouch looked furious. The dungeon was ringing with applause now. Bagman got to his feet and bowed, beaming.
"Despicable," Mr. Crouch spat at Dumbledore, sitting down as Bagman walked out of the dungeon. "Rookwood get him a job indeed... The day Ludo Bagman joins us will be a sad day indeed for the Ministry..."
Harry sneered. Coming from the man who had put an innocent person, an Heir of house Black, no less in Azkaban without a trial was ludicrous that he was tempted to laugh.
And the dungeon dissolved again. When it had returned, Harry looked around. He and Dumbledore were still sitting beside Mr. Crouch, but the atmosphere could not have been more different. There was total silence, broken only by the dry sobs of a frail, wispy-looking witch in the seat next to Mr. Crouch. She was clutching a handkerchief to her mouth with trembling hands. Harry looked up at Crouch and saw that he looked gaunter and grayer than ever before. A nerve was twitching in his temple.
"Bring them in," he said, and his voice echoed through the silent dungeon.
The door in the corner opened yet again. A dozen Aurors, followed by Six dementors entered this time, flanking a group of four people. Harry saw the people in the crowd turn to look up at Mr. Crouch. A few of them whispered to one another.
The dementors placed each of the four people in the four chairs with chained arms that now stood on the dungeon floor. There was a thickset man who stared blankly up at Crouch; a thinner and more nervous-looking man, whose eyes were darting around the crowd; a woman with thick, shining dark hair and heavily hooded eyes, who was sitting in the chained chair as though it were a throne; and a boy in his late teens, who looked nothing short of petrified. He was shivering, his straw-colored hair all over his face, his freckled skin milk-white.
Harry caught his breath. He was witnessing the greatest death-eater trial to take place. The trial of Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange and Barty Crouch... Junior.
The wispy little witch beside Crouch began to rock backward and forward in her seat, whimpering into her handkerchief. Crouch stood up. He looked down upon the four in front of him, and there was pure hatred in his face. "You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law," he said clearly, "so that we may pass judgment on you, for a crime so heinous—"
"Father," said the boy with the straw-colored hair. "Father... please..."
"— that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court," said Crouch, speaking more loudly, drowning out his son's voice.
"We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror - Frank Longbottom - and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—"
"Father, I didn't!" shrieked Crouch Junior. "I didn't, I swear it. Father, don't send me back to the dementors—"
"You are further accused," bellowed Mr. Crouch, "of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank Longbottom's wife, when he would not give you information. You planned to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to power and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led while he was strong. I now ask the jury -"
"Mother! Mother, stop him. Mother, I didn't do it, it wasn't me!"
"I now ask the jury," shouted Mr. Crouch, "to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban!" In unison, the witches and wizards along the right-hand side of the dungeon raised their hands. The crowd around the walls began to clap as it had for Bagman, their faces full of savage triumph. The boy began to scream.
"No! Mother, no! I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't know! Don't send me there, don't let him!" The dementors were gliding back into the room.
The boys' three companions rose quietly from their seats; Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black, the most feared witch in Britain, calmly looked up to Crouch and called, "The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch. Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait. He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters. We alone were faithful. We alone tried to find him!"
The sureness in her voice was undeniable. Harry understood why exactly Bellatrix was called the Dark lord's most loyal. She was a fitting Dark Lady. The right hand of Lord Voldemort.
"Take them away!" Crouch roared at the dementors, spit flying from his mouth. "Take them away, and may they rot there!"
"Father! Father, I wasn't involved! No! No! Father, please!" Crouch Junior shrieked.
"I think. Harry, it is time to return to my office," said a quiet voice in Harry's ear.
Harry started. He looked around. Then he looked on his other side. An Albus Dumbledore was sitting on his right, watching Crouch's son being dragged away by the dementors - and there was an Albus Dumbledore on his left, looking right at him.
"Come," said the Dumbledore on his left, and he put his hand under Harry's elbow. Harry felt himself rising into the air; the dungeon dissolved around him; for a moment, all was blackness, and then he felt as though he had done a slow-motion somersault, suddenly landing flat on his feet, in what seemed like the dazzling light of Dumbledore's sunlit office.
[BACK TO ORIGINALITY]
"So, what did you get from the memories."
"I completely agree with Karkaroff on the fact that Snape is a death eater," Harry replied.
Dumbledore sighed, "Anything apart from that Harry?"
"Nothing much. It did show what type of person Crouch was. He put his own son and several people in prison without even giving him an attorney for defense as the law dictates. He broke several laws and rights despite whatever type of person they were. The people were put in Azkaban first Also, he liberated Karkaroff in exchange for information."
"That is technically a gray area Harry," Dumbledore said. "As the saying goes, everything is fair in Love and War. And, these people were arrested when the country was in a state of emergency. So, putting them in Azkaban was legal. And, there was a defense attorney who was there... just in name. He sat there quietly through most trials not speaking a word as Crouch instructed. Some death eaters though hired private lawyers and bribed Bagnold and Wizengamot members to gain by pleading imperious. As for Karkaroff... that was illegal."
Harry nodded. "Also, it showed the loyalty that the Lestranges held for Voldemort. They had enough gold to hire lawyers and bribe their way out."
"Yes, that too."
"But, can you tell me—"
"What do these memories have to do with Barty's murder? To be honest, I have no idea. I was trying to find the same. These were the most prominent Death Eater trials... I was checking if I could find something in these memories. I just showed you these for a second opinion."
"If I had to suspect on basis of these trials, I would say the best suspect you would have is Bagman as all the rest are in Azkaban and Karkaroff would be sort of buddy-buddy with him. But, it is neither here nor there as Bagman is an idiot. And we both know that apart from us only Lord Voldemort is capable enough to put an imperious powerful enough to control Crouch."
"Not necessarily, but, yes. Mr. Mulciber was also skilled with the curse as you undoubtedly heard from Karkaroff and so was Augustus Rookwood, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Antonio Dolohov. But, they are all in Azkaban or dead."
"Professor..."
"Ah, yes. I got a little... anyway, I am also worried about the disappearance of Bertha Jorkins. Despite whatever people may say, Bertha had an excellent memory and was quite nosy. Her disappearance raises alarm bells. The years of Voldemort's ascent to power were marked with disappearances. Bertha Jorkins has vanished without a trace in the place where Voldemort was certainly known to be last. Her disappearance and the murder of Barty Crouch are definitely linked. The problem is that Cornelius is ignoring my prompting. I haven't told him of our true suspicions yet."
Harry snorted. "He would probably label us as insane if we tell him Voldemort's coming back. He got scared by a few spells and a little fire yesterday night despite being in presence of yourself and Mad-eye. He is unfit to be in the war."
"He still has almost a year and half of his term left. But, till then, Lord Voldemort would be back."
"Yes," Harry said leaning back in his chair.
Neither Dumbledore nor Harry spoke for a while. Dumbledore was gazing across the room, and, every now and then, placing his wand tip to his temple and adding another shining silver thought to the seething mass within the Pensive.
"Sir, any leads on the Horcruxes?"
"None so far. But, I suspect he may have hidden one at Hogwarts."
"You're searching for a needle in the world's largest haystack, sir. You do realize that Hogwarts is the most magical place in Europe and houses several thousand magical artifacts. Out of those, anything could be a Horcrux. Another problem is, that we have no means of pinpointing it. We need to perform the soul-checking charm on each and every artifact present in Hogwarts which is impractical."
"Well, you aren't wrong. Hogwarts is a big place, let's start making it smaller. Which do you think is the place where Tom is most likely to hide a Horcrux in Hogwarts? Or let me ask you, if you were Tom, where would you hide it?"
"Someplace only I could access... The Chamber of Secrets."
Dumbledore nodded. "Right in one, The chamber of secrets. A place that signifies something he is most proud of: being a descendant from Slytherin. A place that can only be accessed by a Parselmouth. It is the ideal place to hide a Horcrux."
"You want me to take you to the chamber of secrets? Like right now?"
"Yes, if it is alright with you."
"Well, okay. Let us go." Harry replied despite knowing that there was no Horcrux down there. He had checked it. Dumbledore would find nothing there. But, it was still better to confirm. Harry didn't need to worry about Dumbledore finding Salazar and Helga's chambers either as it was locked. The outer study though... he would see that.
So, a few minutes later, Harry and Dumbledore found themselves in the second floor's girls' bathroom. 'OPEN' Harry hissed and The sink slid open revealing the path to the chamber of secrets.
"Well, it looks like we have to jump. See you down!" Dumbledore said and jumped in the pipe before Harry could say anything. Harry could hear Dumbledore whooping in joy as he slid down the pipe.
"You can come now, Harry!" Dumbledore called
Harry rolled his eyes and hissed 'Stairs' A staircase appeared and Harry descended the steps. At the bottom of the stairs, he saw an amused Dumbledore waiting for him.
"You could've told me that there was a provision for stairs."
"You jumped before I could say anything. And, I can tell you had fun sliding down the pipe, Professor." Harry said in a deadpan voice. Dumbledore just chuckled in response.
"Shall we?" Dumbledore said, gesturing to the way out. Harry nodded and led him towards the chamber door and hissed at the door to open it.
"Marvelous. The fabled chamber of secrets." Dumbledore walked into the chamber and Harry followed. Their steps echoed through the huge room eerily. Dumbledore examined the motifs statue around the chamber and the runes drawn on the pillars and the walls.
"This room..." Dumbledore softly said, "it would survive even the most potent curses and spells. Even Fiendfyre won't burn these down."
"Yes, they won't."
Dumbledore turned to Harry when he said the statement. "You've tried?"
"This is where I practice, Headmaster. Let me tell you an interesting thing. This room was specifically made to house students in case every protection on Hogwarts failed. In case the wards of Hogwarts fall, there would be a new set of wards getting erected automatically on this room making it, perhaps the safest place on Earth. The Basilisk was also an added protection but, Tom Riddle used her for his misdeeds and corrupted her. There are secret passageways from each common room that leads here. The head elf is tasked to open the passages and lead the students here in case the wards fall under attack."
"Fascinating," Dumbledore whistled. "How do you know this?"
"There is a small Library too, sir. There are a few books there. One of those books had this information. But, regretfully, it is written in Parselscript. Only Parselmouths can read it."
"Am I to assume that this Library is the source of your increased knowledge since the past two years?"
"No. Well, all my knowledge of parselmagic does come from the library, but, all the rest is mainly learned from the Potter and Black Libraries."
"Parselmagic... what do you know in that? Because what you know from here, Tom likely knows that too."
"The applications of Parselmagic are mainly in the fields of warding and most importantly healing. There are only a handful of spells that can be useful in battle from there. My favorite is this," Harry said with a wave of his wand and almost inaudible hiss. A silver shield appeared over his left forearm. Harry moved his hand and the shield moved with it.
"Tom used this in a battle... our first faceoff. It withstood several of my spells before cracking. Protected him several times. It withstands both physical and magical attacks." Dumbledore said.
"Yes, correct. Now, shall we explore, professor?"
"Certainly."
An hour and a half later, Harry and Dumbledore returned to the Headmaster's office and sat in their chairs. They had found nothing there... no Horcrux or anything. But, now it was confirmed that there was no Horcrux in the chamber for sure. Another thing of note was that Dumbledore had read all the book titles and declared that he had read all of those except the Parseltongue ones and a book on battle transfiguration... which Dumbledore was a master of already.
"Tea?" Dumbledore asked as he sat behind his desk with a sigh and a slight noise of his joints cracking. Harry nodded in response and Dumbledore tapped his wand on a kettle. A minute later, Harry had a nice, steaming cup of tea in his hands.
"Harry, please be careful from now on. You're a capable wizard, no doubt, but, there is a reason that Lord Voldemort is so feared. The things happening right now are eerily similar to what happened when both Gellert Grindelwald and Tom Riddle began their rise to power. Mysterious disappearances, high-profile murders, small terrorist attacks... all of that. That coupled with the fact that you were entered in the Triwizard tournament is a concerning fact. I believe that Lord Voldemort wishes to... to... kill you and proclaim that he has risen again."
"I am in danger... like always. Nothing new for me. The only difference is, this time I am prepared."
Dumbledore waved his wand and a book came soaring towards him. It was a thin book. He looked at Harry and said in a grave tone, "This book contains some of the most dangerous and interesting spells in the world. Most of these spells are known to only two people in the world currently. These spells were invented by us... Gellert Grindelwald and I in our post-education years with the dreams of world domination."
Harry showed no reaction to it.
"You aren't surprised by this?" Dumbledore asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No. Gellert Grindelwald visited his great aunt, Bathilda Bagshot when you were nineteen, barely out of school with a sh*tload of glory and achievements but held back from achieving your dreams due to family problems. Then you met Grindelwald and you both instantly became friends because of your impressive intellect, knowledge, power, and similar views. You both had the power and a wish to overthrow the statute of secrecy and rule muggles because of your bitter experiences with them. Grindelwald's Mother was killed by his father when he came to know that she was a witch. Grindelwald ran to safety but never forgot it. Your sister suffered due to muggles and your father went to Azkaban for killing the said muggles. So, you began plotting. But, your sister's death put a wrench in your plans as it caused a rift between yourself and Grindelwald merely a few months later. Grindelwald fled while you mourned."
"You know all this... and yet..."
"It doesn't matter what mistakes you did in your youth. What matters is the man you are now professor. And the fact that you aren't vying for world domination despite possessing the elder wand is a testament to how much you've changed. You even gave me my cloak back despite dreaming of uniting the deathly hallows for years."
Dumbledore stiffened. "You know... you know that I possess the elder wand and haven't tried to claim it."
"Obviously. The wand, for the moment, is the best in your hands. I may take my legacy when I feel it is necessary but not now. I have a nice wand which is also made of elder wood."
"And when will you feel it is necessary?"
"When you're too old or I desperately need it," Harry said with a shrug. "Technically, if I disarm you right now and do a small procedure to bind the hallow to myself, no one will ever be able to claim the wand for themselves again... except for my children. But, I will wait."
"So, it is true that the hallows work the best for the main Peverell line," Dumbledore asked.
Harry shook his head. "No. Technically, anyone with a drop of Peverell can do it if they know the procedure... a procedure which can only be found in the Potter Family Grimoire."
"What added properties do the hallows have when bonded?" Dumbledore asked.
"The cloak can hide someone completely. I can walk through any ward unharmed while wearing the cloak. Not a single thing would be capable of detecting me under it. The wand on, apart from making the spells more potent and powerful... as it does anyways would become completely untraceable. Any magic cast by it, any ward erected by it would not be detected by magical means. Also, the wand gains the ability to undo any spell and bend magic to the wielder's intent as level seven Occlumens do."
"And the stone?"
"Ability to summon an army of semi-corporal ghosts which can physically harm and hit people, unlike normal ghosts. They are similar to what Peeves is but more powerful. Also, easy way to make Inferni."
Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Very well, back to the topic, I want you to learn every spell in this book. But, exercise caution when you use these in real battles. Some of these are so destructive that casting them around allies will result in their as well as the enemies' death."
Harry just nodded in response.
29th May 1995
Room of Requirement Hogwarts
Harry sat on a couch with his three girlfriends sitting in front of him. The three girls were worried seeing Harry's grave expression.
"Okay... er... I do not know how to start this subtly but, based on several events since the last one year... I have a strong suspicion that Voldemort is rising again."
"WHAT?" Susan asked while Daphne showed no reaction. Fleur looked confused.
"Wasn't he the one who fell at your hand when you were a year old?" Fleur asked in confusion.
"Yes... that is what the records say. But, Voldemort put certain... measures in place to prevent dying in case his body is destroyed as it happened thirteen years ago. And I am afraid, he is now coming back."
"What proof do you have?" Susan asked.
"The dark mark on death eaters' arm is darkening since the world cup," Daphne replied instead of Harry.
"Yes. And the dark mark was cast for the first time since Voldemort's fall. There have been disappearances and murders too. Bertha Jorkins disappeared mysteriously. Barty Crouch was murdered yesterday after his auror detail was found stunned. Even Dumbledore and Daphne's father believes this."
"Then the DMLE must be—"
"The DMLE, despite being headed by your aunt still falls under Fudge as he is the Minister of Magic. And, Fudge is a moronic spineless coward. He is ignoring the threat already. He is the biggest threat to Britain if Voldemort returns."
"So, what do we do?"
"First, Fleur, if you want to reconsider the relationship between us... cause these two are going to be in the line of fire against Voldemort, my girlfriends or not. You, on the other hand, can stay out of the way. Being my girlfriend will put you in danger."
"And ruin my life? Pleasenon. Harry, I am a capable witch. I have no fear, dark lord or not. And, what is the guarantee that once he returns, the war won't spill to France? Also, I still have a whole year left at Beauxbatons. Till then many things will change if Voldemort returns. So, no."
"Then, we begin training. To protect ourselves. To protect our families. And this, our little world."
