▬▬▬▬ CHAPTER TWENTY ▬▬▬▬

:)

MOODY WAS RUSHING DOWN THE halls of the castle as fast as he could. His wooden leg made loud clunking noises with every step he made, but it wasn't like anyone would be able to hear them. Everyone was still waiting for the Third Task to finish—those stupid fools.

But no matter. He had accomplished what he had been sent here for. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students had already been disqualified from the maze and he doubted the Hufflepuff boy had won, so it would only make sense that Harry Potter had fallen for his trap.

He was probably at the graveyard already, his blood used to bring Lord Voldemort back, and ultimately killed once his usefulness was done with. And good riddance to that because he had gotten tired of teaching these fucking brats.

He hadn't killed Black though, but in his defense, it was an impossible task! The girl, no matter what plan he concocted, just wouldn't die! She was like a bloody cockroach...! He literally had to stop with his attempts in order to keep his sanity intact. Hopefully his Lord would be merciful should he find out...

Just as he was about to make a turn, a sudden pain struck him in the back of his left shoulder. A choked cry escaped his lips as he stumbled forward, crashing against the floor across from him. He slipped to his knees, feeling something wet running down his arm. Shaking, he forced himself to glance back.

There was a knife embedded into his flesh. But that wasn't all. It was glowing green. As if it was being held by an invisible hand, the blade dug deeper and twisted itself around. He let out a raspy shout as the burning pain intensified.

"Running back to your master?" Came a familiar voice.

He collapsed onto his bottom and pressed himself against the wall when he spotted her—Esmerelda Black. She stood at the other end of the hallway, her eyes glowing a vicious green, and her hands shaking with rage.

"You...!" He rasped. "You—! How—?!"

"You're not going anywhere," she growled, storming towards him and grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt. With a strength no normal teenage girl should have, she dragged his bleeding body into an unused room and threw him inside, slamming the door behind her.

His hand reached for his wand, but the glowing knife flew out of his shoulder and embedded itself into his palm. He sucked in a breath before letting out a shout.

A cold hand wrapped itself around his throat. "What have you done to them, Crouch?" Esmerelda demanded.

His real eye bulged when she called him by his real name. "How... ack...!"

She threw him onto his back before stomping over the knife, effectively pinning his dominant hand into the floorboards.

"I know it was you who put Harry's name in the Goblet, and I know you have something planned for the Third Task. Two boys have yet to come back from the maze—and unfortunately for you, I'm gonna be real pissed if anything happened to them. So spill it! Where are they and what have you done to them?!"

Viktor and Fleur had already made it back from the maze, but they were clearly shaken up by whatever had happened. All that was left was Cedric and Harry, and they were taking way too long to come back. It was enough to send Esmerelda's mind into haywire. If she had just pieced things faster enough... if there was someway she could be there to protect them wherever they were...

The Tracking Spell would be too slow. It would only vaguely lead her to their direction, it would never specify how far they were, if they were even in the same country or so forth. She could follow a trail for hours without realizing there were many more miles left to walk.

She had already sent Étienne to inform Dumbledore everything that had happened. Hopefully he could put a stop to the Tournament but she had a feeling it was already too late. All she could do now was get answers from this man.

"Talk." She sneered, kicking him in the side. "I'm being nice here, you know? I'm giving you a chance to tell me things willingly."

"You can never scare me," he laughed, but the amount of pain he was in made it sound more like dying wheezes. "You may be a Black, but I know your father's no mass murderer. 'The Dark Lord's most loyal' my ass! Hahaha...!"

She silenced him with another kick.

"I can cut both your hands off," she threatened quietly. "Then you won't ever be able to perform magic ever again. Then I'll move onto your legs so you'll never be able to walk. Then I might pluck an eye out—I heard from a friend that it hurts like hell. I'll wrench every tooth out of your mouth too. I'll destroy you piece by piece, but I'll make sure to keep your tongue and vocal chords untouched. You think you guys are so scary with your Cruciatus Curse? I'll make a real mess out of this room with your blood—something your little Crucio could never do."

She yanked at her sparkling brooch and her labrys appeared in her hands. Crouch didn't seem to care about the weird magical accessory he had. His whole focus shifted onto the new weapon she had. His breathing hitched when he saw it, and his eyes darted around for a possible escape route only to find none.

Esmerelda was just bluffing for now. She wasn't really going to hurt him until after she got the answers from him. She was just going to give him the chance to speak freely, but if he remained stubborn, she'd force it out of him with the Mist and might even chop off a limb or two (preferably his hands so he couldn't use magic again).

"I only serve the Dark Lord," he told her, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Not little girls with broken families—"

She brought the labrys down, swiftly cutting through his other wrist with a sickening CHOP. 

Moody let out a howl of pain. 

"Shut up!" She snarled, bringing her foot down onto his face over and over again. She felt the satisfying crack of his nose under her shoe. "You don't know anything about my fucking family!" 

As she ignored his muffled shrieks, she lifted her labrys over her head, prepared to bring it down again.

The door swung open. Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Snape all filed in, wands outstretched only to nearly dropped them when they saw what was happening. Professor McGonagall turned green when she saw the severed bleeding hand on the floor. 

"Esmerelda, no!" Professor McGonagall gasped, horrified.

"Miss Esmerelda," Dumbledore began to say quickly. "Harry and Cedric have returned. They are safe."

She lowered her weapon, staring at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "They're fine?"

He nodded. "Yes. However, Mr. Diggory has a terrible head wound... Alas, he will be healed. Both of them have been taken to the Hospital Wing and Mr. Rosier has informed me of everything."

A bright, relieved grin appeared over her face. The professors would've calmed down at the sight of it if it hadn't been for the fact that she was still brutally stepping on a man's face.

She lifted her foot off and stepped back, grinning down at Crouch. "Did you hear that, Junior?" She asked mockingly. "You just lost your chance to come clean with me. Guess I'll just have to kill you after all."

The knife pinning his hand down was wrenched out of him, the green glow returning. It lifted itself up, the tip of the blade pointed right at him. He tried to inch back, but with one hand gone and the other one with a hole through it, it wasn't an easy feat.

"Esmerelda, please! There is no need for this!" Professor McGonagall tried to make her see reason.

"We still need answers from him, Black," Snape added, and even he was hesitant to look her in the eyes.

"Oh right," she muttered, her knife flying back to her side and morphing back into a charm. She did the same with her labrys before meeting Crouch's eye. 

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, gulped, and then waved her wand. Bandages wrapped itself around Crouch's bleeding stump. 

"Now," Esmerelda began, looking Crouch dead in the eye. "Answer all of their questions truthfully."

"Where is the real Alastor Moody?" Dumbledore asked once Crouch's eyes glazed over.

"I have him hidden inside my trunk from my office," he answered.

Dumbledore's eyes widened for a fraction before he turned to the other two teachers. "Go find him, and make haste. I fear for his health."

Both turned at once and fled from the room.

"We shall wait for them to return," Dumbledore murmured to her. "For now, I want to wait until his true form is revealed. Thank you for doing all of this, Miss Esmerelda... Alastor is a good friend of mine, but I should've known better, realized sooner that he was a fake... "

Esmerelda dismissed his thanks, and instead turned back to the man on the floor. She tilted her head. "You think he'll shift back soon?"

He nodded. "I believe, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done... on the hour... every hour... We shall see."

Dumbledore pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, his eyes fixed upon the dazed Moody on the floor. Esmerelda stared at him too. Minutes passed in silence...

And then, the body began to shift. 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.

And there laid the real Crouch; pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair. He was like a fairer version of his father.

There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Snape had returned alongside Professor McGonagall.

"Crouch!" Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. "Barty Crouch!"

"Good heavens," Professor McGonagall placed a hand over her chest, stopping dead and staring down at the man on the floor.

"I would like you to tell us," Dumbledore began 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."

Dumbledore and Esmerelda glanced over at each other.

"So Winky's story was true," she heard the older man murmured. "And you were smuggled out by your father then?"

"Yes," he answered dully.

"And while you were under your father's care, did anybody ever discover you?" Dumbledore asked, wanting confirmation about Bertha Jorkins.

"Yes," Crouch replied, his eyelids flickering. "A witch in my father's office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father's signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she'd found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently."

He sighed. "Alright. Now onto the Quidditch World Cup... was it you who stole Harry Potter's wand and used it to conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Yes."

"And what happened afterwards?"

"Winky was dismissed for failing to control me. Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then... and then..." Even in his dazed state he let out a pleased shudder, showing just how much of a fanatic he was. "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. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant—perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door."

"And then he freed you and placed your father under the Imperius," Esmerelda finished, scowling. "Yeah, your father told me everything. What did Tom have you 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 gave me two missions."

Esmerelda and the teachers exchanged confused looks. Two missions? There was something else he needed to do other than try to kill Harry?

"My master asked me to assassinate Esmerelda Black," Crouch continued, and the aforementioned girl just blinked in surprise.

"Hold on," she blinked twice. "You... you were trying to kill me?"

"Yes."

"When?" She was pretty sure she would've noticed an assassination attempt on her life!

"All year," there was a flash of great irritation on his face before it disappeared. "I tried to push you down the stairs, but that failed. I tried to shoot you down with the Killing Curse, but you dodged it. I sent you a hexed 'happy birthday' letter, but nothing happened. I—"

"—Wait you sent me that 'happy birthday' letter?" She interrupted. She looked absolutely devastated. Heartbroken even. "I... I thought Draco sent me that and just didn't put his name down because he was embarrassed or something..."

Professor McGonagall looked towards Dumbledore, panicked. Esmerelda genuinely looked like she was about to tear up due to the revelation.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and quickly moved on with the interrogation before she could shed any tears. "And your second mission?" He inquired.

"He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first—"

"—You needed Alastor Moody," Dumbledore finished. His blue eyes were blazing, though his voice remained calm.

"Wormtail and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. I drank it; I became Moody's double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur Weasley when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told Arthur Weasley I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody's clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for Hogwarts. I kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that I could fool even Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole boomslang skin from the dungeons. When the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search it."

"And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?" Dumbledore asked.

"Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father."

"But your father escaped," Dumbledore said knowingly.

"Yes.  Wormtail neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban. My master sent me word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything."

"Map?" Dumbledore said quickly. "What map is this?"

"The Marauder's Map," Esmerelda winced. "Sirius told me all about it. It basically tracks everyone in the castle. Crouch must have confiscated it or something to help him find his father. You stunned Krum and killed him, didn't you?"

"Yes," Crouch answered breathlessly.

"You killed your father," Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice. "What did you do with the body?"

"Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I had the map with me. I watched Potter run into the castle. He met Snape. Dumbledore joined them. I watched Potter bringing Dumbledore out of the castle. I walked back out of the forest, doubled around behind them, went to meet them. I told Dumbledore Snape had told me where to come. Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father's body. He became a bone... I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin."

There was complete silence now. 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 has returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards."

Esmerelda snorted. "Yeah I'd like to see you enjoy that when you're dead." She started for him, but Dumbledore quickly called out her name.

"Miss Esmerelda wait," he said urgently. "Perhaps it is best we go visit Harry and Mr. Diggory together. Let Crouch stay here, he won't be going anywhere. He's still needed alive after all."

Esmerelda frowned, but stepped back anyways. "Alright, fine..."

He turned to the two professors. "Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry upstairs?"

"Of course," she replied. She looked slightly nauseous, as though she had just watched someone being sick. However, when she drew out her wand and pointed it at Barty Crouch, her hand was quite steady.

"Severus," Dumbledore turned to Snape. "Please go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me."

Snape nodded silently and swept out of the room.

Esmerelda and Dumbledore filed out next, their steps hurried as they headed for the hospital wing. She was the first to burst from the door, her green eyes immediately taking in everything. Harry laid in one bed, badly beaten in some places but overall in a better condition compared to Cedric.

The older Hufflepuff was knocked out cold. There was a bloody bruise on the side of his cheek, and his head was wrapped in bloodstained bandages.

Dumbledore went to Harry first and Esmerelda ignored their quiet discussion as she went over to Cedric's side.

"Nasty head wound," Madam Pomfrey murmured beside her, overlooking him as well. "According to Mr. Potter, he was battling against three Death Eaters and one of them levitated a tombstone and slammed it onto his head."

"Death Eaters?" She echoed in alarm.

Madam Pomfrey's eyes hardened slightly as she nodded. "Yes... A lot has happened to them."

By the time Dumbledore finished speaking with Harry, loud voices could be heard on the other side of the door. Dumbledore went up to open them and a great pile of people began flowing in. Esmerelda saw Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, and the Diggories.

Mrs. Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream. "Harry! Oh Harry!"

She rushed into the room, Mrs. Diggory following in afterwards and making a B-line to her son. Esmerelda left Cedric's side to go stand by Sirius and give the three of them some space.

"Molly," Dumbledore began "Please listen to me for a moment. These two boys has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. Harry has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet while Mr. Diggory rests. If you would all like to stay with them, you may do so. But I do not want you questioning them until they are ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

They all nodded in understanding, their faces white. Harry was given a Dreamless Sleep Potion, and he slipped off to unconsciousness as voices murmured all around him.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

"Peter was at the Crouch's with Voldemort," Esmerelda whispered, keeping her eyes glued onto Harry and Cedric, who had yet to wake up.

Sirius' jaw clenched. "Well then he's most likely gone now. But enough about that. How are you? You got me and Harry worried when you didn't show up for the Third Task, you know..."

She grimaced. "I'm sorry. I was... trying to summon Crouch. It worked and I got the answers I needed, but I was already too late."

He shook his head. "You have nothing to blame yourself for."

"I just wish I had been faster," she whispered, looking down at the two bedridden males. "Or—or if I could have just been there with them..."

He opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut off by several voices outside the door.

"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva—" Cornelius Fudge was saying loudly.

"—You should never have brought it inside the castle!" Professor McGonagall yelled. "When Dumbledore finds out—"

The doors burst open. Fudge came striding up the ward. Professors McGonagall and Snape were at his heels.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.

"He's not here," Mrs. Weasley said angrily. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to—"

But the door opened again, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.

"What has happened?" He said sharply. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you—I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch—"

"—There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!" She shrieked. "The Minister has seen to that!"

"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," Snape began, and Esmerelda noticed that even he looked pissed. "He seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch—"

Esmerelda was not liking where this was going.

"—I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" Professor McGonagall fumed. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but—"

"—My dear woman!" Fudge roared. "As Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous—"

But Professor McGonagall's voice drowned Fudge's. "—The moment that—that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over. "It swooped down on Crouch and—and—"

Esmerelda's jaw dropped and a burning heat coursed through her body.

"You are the dumbest person I've ever met!" She cried out, and Fudge jumped upon seeing her. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?!"

"What are you doing here, Black?!" Fudge demanded.

"I'm here to check on my friends, you moron," she spat. "I can't believe you just let him get Kissed by the Dementors! How incompetent can you be?!" She turned to Dumbledore, desperate and uncaring of whoever heard. "What if I got the Dementor to return his soul? That would work, right?"

Fudge let out a harsh laugh, amused by her. "Get the Dementor to return a soul? What—what sort of education have you been getting Black? You can't—hah! And even if such a thing could happen," he scoffed at the very idea. "Nobody would listen to the word of a raving lunatic."

She glared at him. "Are you kidding me? You won't even listen to a word he says? He was supposed to give a testimony for why he killed all those people!"

"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" Fudge blustered. "He was a raving lunatic! From what your professors have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"

"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore sided with her. "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."

Fudge looked as though someone had just swung a heavy weight into his face. Dazed and blinking, he stared back at Dumbledore as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. He began to sputter, still goggling at Dumbledore.

"You-Know-Who... returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore..."

"As Minerva and Severus have doubtlessly told you," said Dumbledore. "We heard Barry Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort—learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins—went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."

"See here, Dumbledore," Fudge began to smile for some reason. "You—you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who—back? Come now, come now... certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders—but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore..."

"When Harry and Cedric touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, they were transported straight to Voldemort," Dumbledore said steadily. "They both witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office, but I am afraid I cannot permit you to question them tonight."

Fudge's curious smile lingered. He too glanced at the two bedridden bodies, then looked back at Dumbledore, and said, "You are—er—prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sirius growled.

Fudge looked up at him warily. "And—and who are you, exactly?"

He smiled dryly. "Steve White, I'm her uncle," he jabbed a finger towards Esmerelda, and Fudge's guard was up even higher.

"A-ah... well... Harry, you see... You see..." He stammered.

"I believe Harry," Dumbledore said, eyes blazing. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."

But Fudge still looked doubtful. "You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who... well..." Fudge shot Harry another look.

"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," he said quietly and a good portion of the people in the room jumped, not realizing that he was awake.

Fudge reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over his face.

"And if I have?" He said, looking at Dumbledore. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place—"

"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" said Dumbledore coolly.

"You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" Fudge said quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly—hallucinations?"

"Listen to me, Cornelius," Dumbledore took a step closer to him. "Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."

Fudge stepped back, but still remained stubborn. "You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before..."

"That's because he's the ONLY one with that scar, you dumbass!" Esmerelda groaned aloud. "Honestly, how ignorant can you be?"

"Do not speak to me that way, young lady!" He spat at her. "I will not be spoken to by—by someone of your standing!"

"Her standing?!" Sirius joined the argument now. "And just what is her standing, hmm? I don't quite appreciate that uppity attitude of yours. Must I remind you Minister, that you've only been given this position by default and honestly, after witnessing how daft you are, I can't say that I'm surprised that you weren't even the people's third choice!"

Fudge sputtered, his face reddening angrily as he tried to think of what to say.

"Look," Harry glared. "I saw Voldemort come back! "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy—"

"—Malfoy was cleared!" Fudge said, visibly affronted. "A very old family—donations to excellent causes—"

"Oh so you're admitting to taking bribes now, are you?" Esmerelda shot.

"That is not what I said! I—just keep out of this, Black!"

"Macnair!" Harry continued.

"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"

"Avery—Nott—Crabbe—Goyle—"

"—You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" Fudge said angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore—the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too—his tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them—the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"

"You fool!" Professor McGonagall cried. "These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"

"I see no evidence to the contrary!" He shouted.

Amidst the raised voices, Esmerelda caught sight of Cedric's wide-eyed stare. He was awake now, probably had been for some time. His parents had noticed it too, since they were already trying to get him to take a Dreamless Sleep Potion. But Cedric had frozen over.

"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "If you accept that fact straightaway, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors—"

"—Preposterous!" He shouted again. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" Dumbledore's voice rose. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"

The argument went on and on until Snape finally had enough. He strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.

"There," he said harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

But Fudge wasn't listening. He was still shaking his head.

"Cedric," Esmerelda spoke up, and her voice seemed to snap the boy out of his dazed state. Everyone immediately turned to face him. "Cedric, you were there with Harry, weren't you? You can confirm what he said."

Cedric's eyes widened, and his face turned white as everyone looked at him expectantly. When he didn't say anything, Fudge let out a jolly laugh.

"Now see here!" He exclaimed, pleased. "Mr. Diggory knows what he saw. And it certainly had nothing to do with You-Know-Who. I take it you fell and hit you head, had you? Potter probably pushed you down hadn't he? That lunatic boy."

"That's not true!" Esmerelda snapped at him before looking back to Cedric. "Cedric, tell them what happened."

"Cedric, son," Mr. Diggory chuckled nervously, glancing between him and Fudge. "That didn't happen, did it? You-Know-Who coming back... Silly, right? Just... just tell us what happened, son."

Cedric swallowed thickly, looking at his parents, then Fudge, then to Harry and Esmerelda. There was a guilty look in his eyes when he looked at her, and she felt something drop to the pit of her stomach.

He bowed his head and shook his head. "I..." He began, his voice rough. "I don't know."

Esmerelda couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was so shocked that she couldn't speak.

Madam Pomfrey bit her lip nervously. "He suffered a bad head injury. It could've possibly caused some amnesia..."

But Fudge hardly cared about that. "Shame then," he said dismissively. "Nothing to support Mr. Potter's outrageous claims."

"Cornelius—" Dumbledore began.

He cut him off. "—I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."

Esmerelda didn't watch as he left through the door. Instead, she kept her gaze glued on to Cedric, who couldn't even look at her in the eye.

He had lied.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

The end of the school year came, and since the aftermath of the Third Task, Esmerelda hadn't spoken a word to Cedric once. She spent most of her time with Harry, protecting him from everyone's harmful whispers and destroying any piece of Rita Skeeter's slanderous news article about him.

But right now, it was the day for the foreign students to return home, so she spent the entire time with her half-brother.

"I don't want to go back," Étienne said darkly as he watched the rest of the Beauxbatons students file into their blue carriage. "I don't want to go back to them."

She sighed sadly for him. "Étienne..."

He gripped her arm painfully, his nails digging into her skin. "I don't want to go back, Essie. Why are you trying to get rid of me? Can't I stay?"

She pulled her arm free and gave him a stern look. "Enough of that."

He shrunk into himself. "I'm sorry."

"If you're sorry then don't do it," she sighed again. "And stop trying to guilt me too. This isn't forever alright? Once the summer's done... I'll come find you, and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

His eyes gleamed. "Everything...? Like about my powers and—and—"

"—And your mother," she said before he could get too excited.

His face fell. "What?"

"There's a lot you need to know, but I can't tell you right now. It has to be after summer, once... once certain problems have been dealt with." She promised.

"But I won't have to stay with them anymore, would I?" That was all he really cared about.

"No," she answered truthfully.

"I can stay with you, then?" He asked hopefully.

She tilted her head thoughtfully. Would a Roman demigod be allowed in Camp? But he could still stay in the penthouse maybe...

"Yes. Or at least, I'll try to make it work," she replied, but he was already beaming with joy.

He honestly looked like he could cry right now. Before any tears could be shed, he swooped her up in a bone-crushing hug, and she could feel his tears against her shoulder.

"Thank you," he said in a warbled sort of voice.

"There, there," she cooed, soothingly running her fingers through his inky black hair. "Now wipe your tears. Your school mates are waiting for you."

He pulled away, sniffling awfully. "R-right," he inhaled sharply, wiping his face dry. "I should get going now... You promise you'll help me?"

She nodded her head and smiled up at him. "I promise."

He returned the smile before hurrying over to enter the carriage. Before he stepped through the doors, he glanced back at her and gave her a wave.

She watched as the horses whinnied, kicking their legs up as they rose to the air, the carriage trailing off after them. They grew smaller and smaller until finally, they were gone.

The smile slipped off her face once they disappeared. There was still one last thing left to do...

While nobody was looking, she Mist traveled to the Underworld and arrived right outside of her father's cell. She practically threw herself at him the second he saw her.

"I'm so sorry!" She cried out, hugging him tightly.

Regulus blinked in shock. He hadn't seen his daughter in quite a while so such a reaction from her was... concerning. "About what?"

She pulled away but couldn't seem to look at him. "About everything... Not visiting you... and not listening to your warning about 'Moody' and Étienne..."

"Ahhh," he said knowingly. Of course he was right, that sort of lesson should be ingrained in her head by now. Shame she had to learn the hard way, but at least she was alright. "So. What happened?"

She pouted, looking down at her feet. She felt slightly ashamed of herself for not listening to him sooner.

First there was the Labyrinth and now in this year... she inwardly sighed.

"Moody turned out to be Barty Crouch Jr who was just impersonating him," she began, then explained everything he had missed out on, save for Étienne's demigod status. When she got to the part about Voldemort rising, he became understandably quiet.

"So," he inhaled shakily. "He's back to full power then."

"Yes."

This is the worst year ever, he thought. But it didn't have to be... As long as Esmerelda focused on her own issues than get sucked up in the Wizarding War. She didn't have to get involved in that after all... the only problem was Sirius, who would most likely get involved which would lead to her being involved.

"But Voldemort isn't what I wanted to tell you about," Esmerelda said, her voice low. "Crouch's father, Barty Crouch Snr, is the reason why uncle Sirius was sent to Azkaban. Without a trial."

All thoughts about Voldemort came flying out the window when he heard that. 

He knew of Bartemius Crouch back when he was still alive. The man had been gradually rising to power in the Ministry, using aggressive measures to fight back against the Death Eaters and whatnot, but he had never known Crouch to be the type to throw a man into Azkaban without so much as a trial.

Regulus, more than anyone, knew what it was like to waste away behind a cell, but he deserved this fate, not his do-good brother.

Crouch tarnished his brother's name, made him suffer, and made Esmerelda suffer as well by taking away the only good guardian she probably ever had.

Regulus looked up and locked eyes with her, his face dark and unforgiving.

"You can't let him walk away free," he said firmly.

"He's dead," she told him.

"Good." He sneered, feeling more of psyche crack. "He deserves to suffer for everything he's done, Esmerelda. You know that, don't you?"

And his daughter smiled, her eyes just as unforgiving as his. "I know, dad," she chirped. "Don't worry. I'll make him suffer. I promise."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Esmerelda reached the entrance of the Fields of Punishment, her hands trembling with excitement. A bright grin crawled over her face when she spotted two loyal empousai apprehending Crouch Snr. He was shackled, his chains held by each empousai. There were claw marks over his skin and faded blood streaming down his ghostly face.

"Thank you so much for finding him for me," she thanked her monstrous sisters. "I was so worried I'd lose him once he faced Judgement."

"We're happy to serve, my lady," the two said in unison.

The chains were handed over to her and the two empousai left.

Crouch weakly lifted his head up. "I helped you..."

"You did," she nodded in agreement. "And I'm thankful for that, really... but you sent my uncle to Azkaban without a trial. You see, unlike you, I actually paid for your entrance fee and I made sure you were given a fair trial too. It wasn't that hard. I fail to see why you couldn't give my uncle the same treatment."

"Your uncle...?" He rasped.

"Sirius Black isn't my father, he's my uncle. My father is his brother, Regulus Black," she explained curtly. "He's somewhere around here too, but he's not facing any punishment anymore. Unfortunately, I can't say the same to you."

"I helped you!" He shouted at her. "I told you who killed me—without my help, you wouldn't—wouldn't have known whose identity my son stole!"

"And I just don't care," she replied simply. "You ruined my uncle's life and indirectly ruined mine since he couldn't raise me. My uncle is innocent, and you tossed him that hellhole without even bothering to listen to him. You actually deserve to be here. So I'm gonna make sure you suffer for everything you've put him through."

"No," he gasped as she tightened her grip on his chains. He tried to fight against it. "No!"

"I got a special place all set up for you," she said as she began to drag him away. "And don't worry about feeling lonely. Your son will join you soon."

— author's note —

LOLOLOL did you guys really think that just because I saved Cedric that everything would be fine and dandy from then on?? LOL NOPE! Sorry, but there's gotta be an equal exchange. I do one good thing (saving Cedric), so now I gotta do something bad to make up for it (making Cedric lie and pretty much destroying any friendship and credibility he has in Essie and Harry's eyes) :)

You guys will find out why he lied in the next book so just wait.

Here's the dark!Essie some of you guys have been waiting for. I honestly should've had her snap like, a book ago, so this was pretty late lol. She's not gonna be evil and dark for the rest of the book, don't worry, she'll still have her sweet, caring side. But a lot of terrible stuff has been happening to her though, so I want to show the gradual darkening of Essie's character because of all those terrible things. It only makes sense that she'd get a lil darker tbh...

And yes I'm aware that she could've used the Mist to make Fudge believe, but I just didn't do it that way cuz it was too convenient (SORRY!!!!)... You know me, you guys, I gotta make life harder for my characters. Just be grateful that I let Cedric live XD

But honestly, idk if the Mist would've even worked at this point. Yes she could make Fudge believe that Voldemort's back, but like he said, Rita's been slandering Harry throughout the entire year and making him look crazy. Even if the Minister "believed" him, not everyone would thanks to those articles.

Essie throughout the entire chapter:

Everyone else:

Essie upon finding out that Draco wasn't the one who sent her the happy birthday card:

McGonagall and Dumbledore:

POV: You're Crouch Jr and Essie's wrecking your shit

SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DOES ANYONE USE ARTBREEDER??? I finished recreating the characters for this series and I tried to download the images yesterday, but they're all still in "process"!!! All of them!!! WTF?!?!?! IS IT SUPPOSED TO TAKE THIS LONG OMG WHYYYYYYYYYY