The day of the third task dawned with a stillness that didn't match the excitement building within the walls of Hogwarts. The air itself felt heavy pressing down on Cassiopeia as she stepped in streaming across the grounds.

The stands were already filling when she made her way over, her Slytherin robes fluttering lightly in the breeze. She could hear the hum of chatter and distant cheers as students scrambled to find the best seats. Cassie wasn't in the mood to rush. Her head throbbed faintly, a dull ache that refused to leave since the morning, and she was painfully aware of how tightly wound she felt. Her steps faltered as her eyes fell on a figure near the maze.

Moody.

He stood at the edge of the pitch, his posture as stiff as ever, his mismatched eyes scanning the grounds. Cassie's gaze locked with his magical eye, and for a moment, it felt like the world tilted. Her head pounded sharply, and she reached up instinctively to press her fingers against her temple. There was something unnerving about the way he looked at her, She forced herself to look away, swallowing hard, and climbed up the stands.

Blaise was already sprawled across one of the benches, looking far too relaxed for someone about to witness a potentially deadly event. Theo sat beside him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his sharp eyes scanning the maze 

"You're late," Blaise drawled without looking at her.

"I don't care," Cassie shot back, dropping onto the bench beside Theo.

Her gaze drifted to the maze, its towering hedges twisting and shifting subtly as though alive. The fog clinging to the base of the hedgerows gave the whole scene an unsettling edge, It reminded her, unwillingly, of the gardens at Malfoy Manor. The endless paths, the quiet that was never quite peaceful. She had hated those gardens, though she could never explain why.

"Quite the setup," Theo muttered

Cassie didn't respond. She couldn't shake the strange weight pressing down on her chest, the nagging sense that something wasn't right. Her eyes flicked back to Moody, who was now speaking to a group of professors. She clenched her jaw and turned back to the maze.

The crowd erupted into cheers as Cedric Diggory appeared, his father bounding ahead of him, waving dramatically to anyone who would look. Cassie rolled her eyes. Diggory looked mortified, and she couldn't blame him.

"That must be his father," Blaise said lazily

"Thank you, Blaise," Cassie muttered. "I couldn't have figured that out on my own."

The cheers grew louder as Fleur Delacour stepped into view, her silver hair catching the sunlight as Madame Maxime walked beside her. A ripple of blue shimmered through the stands as the Beauxbatons students cheered. Viktor Krum followed next, his fists raised triumphantly to the Durmstrang students' loud and boisterous applause.

Then Harry appeared, looking nervous and Cassie's stomach twisted. She leaned back in her seat, arms crossed tightly.

"I don't get what all the fuss is about," she muttered.

"Jealous?" Blaise teased, earning himself a sharp glare.

Before Cassie could retort, Dumbledore stepped up to the podium, his wand raised to his throat. His voice boomed across the grounds as he called for silence. The crowd obeyed, the noise fading into an almost uncomfortable stillness.

"Earlier today, Professor Moody placed the Triwizard Cup deep within the maze," Dumbledore announced, his tone grave yet filled with a subtle undercurrent of excitement. "Only he knows its exact location. Now, as Mr. Diggory—"

The Hufflepuff section erupted, standing and cheering loudly. Cedric's father raised their clasped hands, grinning widely, and Cedric looked as though he wanted to sink into the ground.

"And Mr. Potter," Dumbledore continued, his words drowned out momentarily by the equally loud cheers from Gryffindor.

She barely listened as Dumbledore explained the rules, her mind elsewhere. Her headache had worsened, the dull throb becoming a persistent pulse. She pressed her fingers to her temple again, closing her eyes briefly.

"You alright?" Theo asked quietly, 

"I'm fine," she lied, not looking at him.

Dumbledore finished his speech, calling the champions to their starting positions. The stands fell eerily quiet as the champions moved to their respective pathways. 

Cassie's eyes drifted back to Moody. He was standing near Harry, his hand heavy on the boy's shoulder, saying something she couldn't hear. Her chest tightened, and a sudden, inexplicable wave of dread washed over her.

"Something's wrong," she said suddenly,

Theo turned to her, frowning. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head, her eyes still on Moody. "I don't know. I just... something's not right. Mark my words, Theo. Something terrible is going to happen tonight."

He didn't respond immediately, his expression unreadable. 

Cassie ignored him, her focus on the maze as Dumbledore raised his wand to start the task.

"One—"

The cannon fired prematurely, the deafening boom startling everyone. The champions hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping into the maze, their figures quickly swallowed by the towering hedges.

The stands erupted once more, the band playing loudly as students cheered for their chosen champions. Cassie barely noticed. Her gaze remained fixed on the maze, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn't quite piece together.

Her headache was worse than ever, a sharp, insistent pain that seemed to pulse in time with her growing unease. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.

Something was wrong. She didn't know how, but she knew.

And whatever it was, it was already too late to stop it

*****************

The atmosphere in the stands grew heavier with each passing minute. The cheers and excitement that had initially filled the air were beginning to give way to unease. Cassie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her head pounding relentlessly. She pressed a hand to her temple, wishing she had thought to bring something—anything—to distract herself. A book, perhaps, or even parchment to doodle on.

"Now we wait," Draco muttered, leaning back lazily and crossing his arms.

"Not again," Blaise groaned, .

"And this time, there's no time limit," Draco added  "The task ends whenever someone reaches the cup. However long that'll take."

"Oh, kill me now," Pansy exclaimed, dramatically flopping against Daphne's shoulder.

"You probably shouldn't say that too loudly around Cass," Blaise quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "She might take it seriously."

Cassie shot him a glare but said nothing, her focus still on the maze. She could barely make out the tops of the hedges from her seat, but her mind was already conjuring images of what might be happening inside. The task felt like it had stretched on forever, though she knew it hadn't been that long.

"Look!" Theo pointed suddenly, his sharp tone cutting through the group's idle conversation.

Cassie followed his gaze to red sparks in the sky, her eyes narrowing as she tried to make sense of the commotion below.

"Who was it?" Draco asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"Who knows," Cassie said with a shrug, her voice deliberately disinterested.

"Please be Potter," Draco muttered, clasping his hands together in mock prayer. "Please, please be Potter."

everyone craned their necks to see what was happening. After a few moments, a ripple of whispers spread through the stands, growing louder with each passing second.

"Fleur," Pansy said, her tone flat. "It's Delacour."

Cassie turned her attention to the cluster of Beauxbatons students, who sat huddled together, their faces pale and worried. Fleur had been pulled from the maze, the reason still unclear, and now her schoolmates were murmuring amongst themselves, their expressions a mix of concern and disappointment.

Another ten minutes dragged by, feeling like an eternity. The crowd was restless now, shifting in their seats and exchanging uneasy glances. Then came whispers of another student being pulled out, though this time, there had been no red sparks to signal it.

"Who do you think it was?" Pansy asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

"No clue," Draco said, though his eyes gleamed with anticipation. "But wouldn't it be lovely if it were Krum? Then Potter can have the pleasure of losing directly to Diggory."

Cassie barely registered their words. Her head throbbed sharply, and a sudden, vivid flash of light flickered in her mind. It was disorienting, leaving her blinking rapidly as she tried to steady herself.

"Ugh," she muttered, rubbing at her temples.

"What's wrong with you now?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow.

"None of your business," she snapped, standing abruptly. The motion made her head swim, but she ignored it. "I need some air."

Theo glanced up at her, his brows furrowing in concern. "Want me to come with you?"

"No." The answer came sharper than she intended, but she softened it with a faint smirk. "You stay here. Babysit Draco; he might have a meltdown if Potter wins."

"Ha-ha," Draco said dryly, rolling his eyes.

Without waiting for a reply, Cassie pushed her way through the stands, her steps brisk and determined. The cool evening air hit her as she descended toward the outer edge of the pitch, and she inhaled deeply, trying to clear her mind.

But the flashes came again, brief and jarring, like glimpses of something just beyond her reach. man, a vial, and a voice—a familiar, mocking laugh that sent chills down her spine. She shook her head, clenching her fists.

"Get a grip, Cass," she muttered to herself.

Cassie leaned heavily against the cold railing, rubbing her temples in an attempt to alleviate the pounding in her head. The distant cheers of the crowd behind her felt hollow, their enthusiasm almost mocking in the face of the unease twisting in her gut. She stared blankly at the dark maze below, its foreboding hedges appearing like the jagged edges of a wound on the earth.

"Miss Black."

The silky voice cut through the air, startling her. She turned sharply to see Professor Snape standing a few feet away, his dark eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, his tone clipped and sharp.

"Nothing," Cassie said quickly, straightening up. "I just needed some air."

Snape's gaze flicked over her, his lip curling faintly as though she'd just admitted to a cardinal sin.

"If you are unwell, go to Madam Pomfrey," he snapped. "Do not loiter about the grounds . This is neither the time nor the place for dramatics."

Cassie glared at him but didn't argue, her hand still rubbing absently at her temple. Snape's eyes darted to the motion,

"Are you quite finished standing about?" he demanded, his voice cutting once more. "Get back to your seat, or—"

He stopped suddenly, his face tightening as if in pain. His hand twitched, his fingers brushing briefly against the sleeve of his left forearm.

Cassie's eyes narrowed sharply. "Your mark," she said,  "It's burning, isn't it?"

Snape froze, his hand falling back to his side. "What did you say?"

"You heard me," she pressed, her voice gaining an edge. Her heart raced "This means... this is it. He's back, isn't he?"

Snape's expression darkened, but he said nothing.

"Why is Dumbledore still letting this task go on?" Cassie hissed, "Does he not understand what this means? What's going to happen?"

"Enough," Snape said sharply "You know nothing of what you speak, Miss Black."

"I know enough," she shot back, "Enough to know that whatever's happening in that maze is bigger than a stupid tournament."

Snape's jaw tightened, his eyes flickering toward the maze for a brief moment, as if contemplating . He turned back to her with a sharp, cold gaze. "Go back to the stands, And do not speak of this to anyone. We don't need chaos."

Cassie felt a wave of frustration surge through her, the tension in her head almost unbearable. The throbbing in her temples was relentless, and it felt as if her brain might split in two at any moment. "Ugh..." she muttered under her breath, pressing a hand against her forehead. Her vision blurred for a second, a flash of something faint dancing at the edges of her mind.

Snape's eyes narrowed, and his voice came with an edge. "Did you not hear what I said, Miss Black?"

She didn't respond right away. The pressure in her skull was overwhelming. It was as if something was trying to break free from her thoughts, something important, something she knew but couldn't fully grasp. Cassie's breathing quickened, and she swayed slightly on her feet.

"Just shut up for a minute, Snivellus," she growled, gritting her teeth. "I know something. But—" She cut herself off, her head swimming. "It's fuzzy..."

Snape raised a brow, clearly skeptical. "Fuzzy?" he repeated, his tone sharp. "This is no time for nonsense, Miss Black."

Cassie's eyes narrowed as a cold realization slithered into her thoughts, like a whisper through the fog. She spoke barely above a breath. "Almost... like... a memory charm."

Suddenly, it clicked. Cassie's eyes went wide. "OH FUCK—that's what it is!" she exclaimed in a sharp burst of realization. Her pulse quickened as the meaning of it all sank in. 

Snape stiffened at her words,  But Cassie didn't notice. She was too caught up in the overwhelming flood of understanding that crashed into her mind. The pieces were falling into place, all of it suddenly making sense, the fragments coming together.

Suddenly, Harry appeared before them all, holding the Tri-Wizard Cup and Cedric. The stands erupted into cheers, and the music started up again. It seemed the winner had been revealed, but those standing close enough could see what had really happened.

Cassie's blood ran cold. Cedric wasn't moving.

"I knew it," she murmured, unheard over the crowd and band.

Fleur, standing nearby with her schoolmates, screamed at the sight before her.

"Harry! Harry!" Dumbledore rushed over to his side. He tried to wrap his arms around Harry and pull him from Cedric, but the boy held desperately tight.

He's so still... I've seen stillness like that before.

"He's dead," Cassie said, almost in awe.

Snape gaped at her for a moment, then rushed over to the scene himself.

"For God's sake, Dumbledore, what's happened?" Fudge cried out, panic rising in his voice as he realized what had happened.

The band stopped playing, the crowd stopped cheering and fell into silence. Dread and the sounds of Harry's crying filled the cold night air as many stared at the first dead body they had ever seen.

"Tell me what happened," said Dumbledore to Harry.

"He's back, he's back!" Harry wept as he spoke. "Voldemort's back. Cedric. He asked me to bring his body back. I couldn't leave him, not there."

Voldemort. He said Voldemort.

"The body must be moved, Dumbledore, there are too many people," Fudge hissed over the Headmaster's shoulder.

"Let me through!" A man, whom Cassie had presumed to be Cedric's father, shoved his way into the scene. "That's my son! My boy!"

The man knelt down over Cedric's still body, shoulders shaking.

Everyone watched in horror and confusion as he broke down, wailing over the body of his dead son.

"My son! No! My son! My boy!"

Her breath hitched as the fragmented pieces clicked together in her mind. Her gaze darted back toward the maze just in time to catch a pale, trembling Harry being dragged off by Moody. The grip Moody had on Harry's arm wasn't casual—it was possessive, urgent. And it made no sense.

"Everybody! Everybody!" McGonagall's voice rang out as she moved into action. "Everyone, please exit the area! Please follow your house leaders back to the castle!"

But Cassie wasn't moving. Her eyes stayed locked on Moody, her gut screaming that something wasn't right. She felt it deep in her bones, that unmistakable tug that something dangerous was unfolding right in front of her.

"Miss Black, did you not hear Professor McGonagall?" Snape's voice rang out, carrying an icy edge now.

Cassie barely heard him. Her thoughts were a whirlwind, her focus narrowing in on Moody and Harry. Moody. Harry. The maze. Everything felt off. Her gut was screaming, urging her to move, to act. But why?

"No," she whispered to herself, her feet already moving. "Something's wrong. Something's very wrong."

"Where are you going?" Snape demanded, his voice sharp and demanding.

Cassie didn't respond. She couldn't. Her mind was already miles ahead, her body moving on its own. She broke into a sprint, her Slytherin robes billowing behind her as her heart raced. "I've got to go," she called over her shoulder.

Snape made a sound of frustration, but Cassie didn't care. She had no time to explain. Her legs carried her swiftly toward the castle, her mind racing faster than her feet. Why would Moody drag Harry away like that? Why not let Dumbledore handle it? There was too much happening. Too much she didn't understand.

Cassie skidded to a stop just outside the open door of Moody's office watching moody practically drag harry- ,. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she carefully cast the Disillusionment Charm, whispering the incantation under her breath- making sure it was flawless.

Quickly, Cassie slipped inside, just as Moody shut the door behind him,  She darted beneath the nearest table, crouching low and pressing herself flat against the floor. 

"In here, Harry... in here, and sit down... You'll be all right now... drink this..." Moody's voice cut through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present. Cassie winced as she heard the scraping of a key in a lock and then the sound of Moody gently coaxing Harry to drink something. She held her breath, straining to hear every word.

"Drink it... you'll feel better... come on, now, Harry, I need to know exactly what happened..." Moody's words were cold. 

She pressed herself further into the shadow, watching as Harry's form shifted in the dim light, his face pale and drawn, his expression vacant. She could see Moody's eyes boring into Harry, h

"Cup was a Portkey," Harry said, his voice hoarse, cracking slightly with the effort. "Took me and Cedric to a graveyard... and Voldemort was there... Lord Voldemort..."

Cassie's breath caught in her throat. Voldemort? Voldemort? No, this wasn't right. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of what she had heard, but nothing added up. She could hear Moody's heavy breathing as he pressed Harry for more, the clunk of his boots echoing through the space.

"The Dark Lord was there? What happened then?" Moody's voice, low and controlled, was barely audible from where Cassie crouched, but she could sense the urgency in it.

"Killed Cedric... they killed Cedric..." Harry's voice broke,

"And then?" Moody pressed, stepping closer to Harry, his tone sharp.

"Made a potion... got his body back..." Harry's words trailed off, his voice barely a breath. Cassie's mind reeled. Got his body back?

"The Dark Lord got his body back? He's returned?" Moody's voice was louder now, and Cassie could hear the faint tremor in his words. Her blood ran cold. This couldn't be true, could it?

"And the Death Eaters came... and then we duelled..." Harry's voice was barely a whisper now, and it sounded so far away, so broken.

"You duelled with the Dark Lord?" Moody's voice cracked, the tension rising in his voice.

"Got away... my wand... did something funny... I saw my mum and dad..." Harry's voice faltered, his words seeming more disjointed the longer he spoke.

"Voldemort's back, Harry? You're sure he's back? How did he do it?" 

Harry's voice was clearer now, but still trembled as he answered, "He took stuff from his father's grave, and from Wormtail, and me"

"What did the Dark Lord take from you?" Moody's voice was harsh, probing, almost demanding.

"Blood," Harry replied, raising his arm. His sleeve was ripped where Wormtail's dagger had torn it. Moody's eyes flicked down to the wound, and he let out a long, low hiss, like a snake recognizing its prey.

The conversation seemed to fade in the background, the words a blur as Cassie's mind spiraled. Dark Lord? Only the Death Eaters referred to him that way.

She blinked, her mind racing. The pieces clicked together too fast—Moody? No, it couldn't be. But then her memories surged forward—Barty Crouch Jr . And then she heard it. The familiar gravelly voice that she couldn't forget.

"I did that," Moody spoke gruffly.

Cassie froze, her blood running cold as a wave of realization hit her like a tidal wave. This wasn't right. This wasn't Mad-Eye Moody. The pieces clicked into place. Her mind flashed back to the events in the office before, when Barty Crouch Jr.'s face had grizzled and transformed in front of her-

I remember now... Cassie's hand clenched into a fist, her nails digging into her palms as she fought the urge to bolt from her hiding spot. 

She remembered the way his face had grizzled and twisted, the moment the disguise had slipped. 

Barty Crouch Jr.,

But that wasn't the worst part.

With terrifying calm, Barty Crouch Jr. had raised his wand. Cassie had barely had time to react before the world around her went black.

"Obliviate."

She stayed hidden under the table, barely breathing, her pulse hammering in her ears. Should I attack now? Her wand was ready in her hand, but she hesitated. What if I revealed myself too soon? What if this was the moment I could gather enough to expose him completely?

Cassie's grip on her wand tightened, her hand instinctively reaching for the dagger strapped to her thigh. Her breath quickened as she moved, 

"So what could I do?" Moody's voice—no, Crouch's voice—snapped her back to reality, and her fingers dug into the dagger's hilt as she steadied herself. Every inch of her screamed at her to act, to do something—anything—but she forced herself to hold back for a moment longer.

"Feed you information from another innocent source. You told me at the Yule Ball a house-elf called Dobby had given you a Christmas present. I called the elf to the staffroom to collect some robes for cleaning. I staged a loud conversation with Professor McGonagall about the hostages who had been taken, and whether Potter would think to use gillyweed. And your little elf friend ran straight to Snape's office and then hurried to find you..."

So it had been him all along.

As Moody continued, Cassie's thoughts swirled. "I Stunned Fleur Delacour as she passed. I put the Imperius Curse on Krum, so that he would finish Diggory and leave your path to the cup clear." 

"You had an easier time of it than you should have in that maze tonight, of course," Moody went on, his voice mocking. "I was patrolling around it, able to see through the outer hedges, able to curse many obstacles out of your way..."

 "The Dark Lord didn't manage to kill you, Potter, and he so wanted to. Imagine how he will reward me when he finds I have done it for him. I gave you to him—the thing he needed above all to regenerate—and then I killed you for him. I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter...closer than a son."

Cassie's breath was shallow She dragged herself from the shadows, praying that the sound of her dragging didn't echo too loudly in the silence. Please, don't let anything clatter, she thought, the weight of her wand heavy in her palm, the dagger at her side.

Harry's eyes flickered over to her, and Cassie froze for a second. Her Disillusionment Charm was fading. Damn it. She slapped a fingers over her lips instinctively. Moody's eyes were too focused on Harry, but she could feel him turning, slowly but surely, towards her. The silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sounds of the chaos in her head.

Cassie could feel the blood rushing in her ears as she let out a breath and said, ""I'm afraid your honor ceremony plans have to be canceled, bitch,"  Her grip tightened on the handle of her wand as she summoned every bit of rage she had.

"Confringo!" she shouted, the spell leaving her lips like a jagged bullet. The flames erupted from her wand with a vicious roar, but Moody dodged it

"Pathetic," he sneered, his wand flashing toward her in retaliation. "You're nothing more than a child—"

A curse came flying her way. she dodged 

Cassie whipped her dagger through the air, aiming with a precision Theo had drilled into her during countless late-night sessions. But this time, there was no holding back The blade sliced through the air, grazing his arm. Blood welled instantly, and he snarled in pain, clutching the wound.

"I should have killed you that day," he spat,

His wand twisted in the air as he roared, "Sonum descendent"

The curse came too fast. Cassie's instincts screamed at her to dodge, but her body wasn't quick enough. The magic slammed into her chest like a sledgehammer, knocking the wind out of her as she was hurled into the wall. She hit it hard, the impact rattling her bones, and slumped to the floor gasping as a sharp pain lanced through her ribs., she could hear harry feeble shouts of panic gasping as a sharp pain lanced through her ribs.

For a moment, the room spun. Her vision blurred, She gritted her teeth and forced herself to her feet, her legs shaky but her wand arm steady. Her chest heaved as she glared at Crouch, who was already preparing his next curse.

She raised her wand, the incantation leaving her lips like a battle cry: "IMPEDEMENTA!"

The spell wasn't just hers. There was a blinding flash of red light, followed by the splintering crash of a door being torn apart.

"Stupefy!"

Cassie's heart skipped a beat. She couldn't stop herself from turning toward the doorway. In the midst of the chaos, the world seemed to freeze for just a second,  The office door exploded into a cloud of splinters, and Moody was thrown backward with a violent force. He hit the ground with a sickening thud, 

Out of the smoke and debris, three figures emerged—Albus Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall. Cassie's pulse skipped again as Dumbledore's presence seemed to fill the room. There was something unnerving about how calm he looked. He stepped into the office, his wand outstretched, and placed a boot under Moody's body, flipping him onto his back with ease. Snape followed, Professor McGonagall rushed over She placed a steadying hand on Harry's shoulder and then turned to Cassie, her sharp eyes narrowing at the sight of her.

"Come along, Potter, Miss Black. What on earth are you doing here? Are you all right—"

Harry's voice cut through the tension, thick with disbelief. "Moody," he said, his words laced with confusion and shock. "How can it have been Moody?"

Cassie let out a sharp, bitter laugh . Her eyes flickered to Harry, dark and smoldering 

"It's not Moody," she spat, her voice low and venomous. Her gaze shifted to the man sprawled on the floor, her lips curling into a snarl. "He was never Moody."

Harry's confusion deepened, but before he could ask, Cassie's voice turned ice-cold. "Barty Crouch Jr.," she hissed, the name dripping with disgust. "He's the one you've been chasing. The one pulling all the strings."

A murmur of shock passed through the room. Snape, who had been inspecting the Foe-Glass with a calculating glare, turned sharply toward Cassie.

"Miss Black, what are you-" Snape hissed, 

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Cassie snapped, pointing toward the limp figure on the ground. "The hip flask—it was the first clue. I knew something was wrong the moment I sneaked into his office. That day, when he caught me snooping..."

Dumbledore, who had been crouching over Moody's unconscious form, suddenly straightened, holding up a small, familiar flask. His piercing blue eyes glinted as he unscrewed the cap and sniffed its contents.

"Polyjuice Potion," Cassie coughed out, her voice rasping as she clutched her side. A speck of blood dripped from her lips, but she didn't falter. "I saw his face before he erased my memory..."

The room went silent for a moment, save for Cassie's labored breathing.

Dumbledore's face darkened as he turned to Snape. "Severus, please fetch the strongest Truth Potion you possess. Then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva," he continued, turning to McGonagall, "head to Hagrid's house. You'll find a large black dog in the pumpkin patch. Bring him to my office. Tell him I will be with him shortly, then return here."

Cassie's eyes narrowed as her bloodied lips curled into a faint scowl. "Black dog?" she muttered, the wheels in her mind turning before it clicked. Sirius... Her scowl deepened. Of course, he's here for Harry. Typical

Both turned at once and left the office. '

Dumbledore walked over to the trunk with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. It contained a mass of spellbooks. Dumbledore closed the trunk, placed a second key in thesecond lock, and opened the trunk again. The spellbooks had vanished; this time it contained an assortment of broken Sneakoscopes, some parchment and quills, and what looked like a silveryInvisibility Cloak. Harry watched, astounded, as Dumbledoreplaced the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth keys in their respectivelocks, reopening the trunk, and each time revealing different contents. Then he placed the seventh key in the lock, threw open thelid, and Harry let out a cry of amazement.

 He was looking down into a kind of pit, an underground room,and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently fast asleep,thin and starved in appearance, was the real Mad-Eye Moody. Hiswooden leg was gone, the socket that should have held the magicaleye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled hairwere missing\

"Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive," Cassie remarked 

Dumbledore, ever composed, gestured to Harry. "Throw down the imposter's cloak—he's freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see him, though he seems in no immediate danger."

Harry hesitated but obeyed. Cassie's breath hitched as she watched Dumbledore drape the cloak over the battered form of Alastor Moody

Minutes passed, the silence so loud it roared in her ears.

"I think, in the excitement of tonight,our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as heshould have done . . . on the hour . . . every hour. . . . We shall see."

 Dumbledore pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down uponit, his eyes fixed upon the unconscious Moody on the floor. 

Harrystared at him too. Minutes passed in silence. . . .Then, before their very eyes, the face of the man on the floor began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smooth; the mangled nose became whole and started to shrink.The long mane of grizzled gray hair was withdrawing into the scalpand turning the color of straw. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, thewooden 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 realeye replaced it; it rolled away across the floor and continued toswivel in every direction. 

Hurried footsteps broke the tension. Snape, Winky, and McGonagall burst into the room, 

"That's him," Snape hissed, "Barty Crouch jr."

Professor McGonagall stopped in her tracks, her hand flying to her mouth. "Good heavens," she breathed, staring down at the man on the floor in sheer disbelief.

Winky's shriek shattered what little calm was left. "Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?" Her piercing wails echoed through the office as she threw herself onto his chest, trembling with grief.

"You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!"

"He is simply Stunned, Winky," Dumbledore said gently, though his tone carried an edge of finality. "Step aside, please."

Cassie's fingers tightened around her wand as Snape handed over the Veritaserum. She didn't dare breathe as Dumbledore forced open Barty Crouch Jr.'s mouth, dripping the truth potion inside.

"Rennervate," Dumbledore murmured, and the man's eyes fluttered open.

"Can you hear me?" Dumbledore's voice was calm, almost eerily so.

"Yes," Crouch muttered weakly, 

"I would like you to tell us," said Dumbledore softly, "how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"

Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice.

"My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."

Winky was shaking her head, trembling.

"Say no more, Master Barty, say no more, you is getting your father into trouble!"

But Crouch took another deep breath and continued in the same flat voice.

"The dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors.

"My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me."

The man's eyelids flickered.

"And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral."

"You isn't ought to tell them, we is getting in trouble. . . ." Winky whimpered

"Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?" asked Dumbledore softly, 

Crouch's eyelids flickered. "Yes. A witch in my father's office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father's signature. He wasn't home. Winky showed her inside. But Bertha heard Winky talking to me and guessed who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home and placed a powerful Memory Charm on her—too powerful. It damaged her memory permanently."

"Why is she coming to nose into my master's private business?" sobbed Winky.

Dumbledore pressed on. "Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup."

"Winky persuaded my father," Crouch said monotonously. "She convinced him I needed air, that my mother would've wanted it. He led me to the Top Box early, invisible under the cloak. Winky was to claim the seat was for my father. But I had grown stronger. I fought his Imperius Curse. In the Top Box, I saw a wand sticking out of a boy's pocket. I stole it."

"Master Barty, you bad boy!" whispered Winky, tears spilling down her face.

"So you took the wand," said Dumbledore. "And what did you do with it?"

Crouch recounted his rage at the Death Eaters for their disloyalty, his compulsion to punish them. "I cast the Dark Mark into the sky."

Crouch continued, detailing how his father subdued him and dismissed Winky, but then... "My master- My dark lord came for me," Crouch said, his grin spreading maniacally. "He found me alive and freed me. My father became the prisoner, under the Imperius Curse. My master conceived a plan—to place me at Hogwarts, disguised, to guide Potter through the tournament."

Crouch detailed the plan to impersonate Moody, infiltrate Hogwarts, and ensure Harry reached the Portkey. He described his father's failed escape, his murder, and the disposal of the body.

The room was silent, save for Winky's sobs.

Crouch finished, "Tonight, my master's plan worked. He is returned to power, and I will be honored."

"Oh no, you won't, you little piece of—" Cassie snarled, stepping forward, her hand reaching for the dagger she had tucked away.

"Miss Black, do not interfere!" Professor McGonagall hissed sharply, moving to block her path..

Dumbledore stood up, his expression one of pure disgust as he stared down at Barty Crouch. With a flick of his wand, ropes twisted around the man, binding him tightly. He turned to McGonagall.

"Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry upstairs?"

"Of course," McGonagall said, though her face was pale, her nausea barely concealed. Her wand, however, was steady as she pointed it at the bound man.

"Severus," Dumbledore continued, addressing Snape, "please inform Madam Pomfrey to come down here. We need to get Alastor Moody to the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him here. 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 gave a curt nod and swept out of the room without a word.

"Harry?" Dumbledore said gently.

Harry stood, swaying slightly,. He was trembling, and Dumbledore steadied him, leading him toward the door.

"I want you to come up to my office first, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly as they stepped into the dim corridor. "Sirius is waiting for us there."

Harry nodded weakly, leaning on Dumbledore for support.

But before they could take another step, Cassie's voice rang out, sharp and defiant.

"Wait a minute, Dumbles. I'm coming too."

Dumbledore turned slowly, . "No, Miss Black. This is not your concern."

Cassie's jaw tightened, her fiery temper flaring. "Not my concern? Are you joking? If that fucker is back, I have every right to know what's going on!"

"Miss Black—"

"No!" she interrupted, her voice rising, trembling with fury. "I'm not just going to stand here while you trot off with Potter to play hero. I've already been dragged into this—I was the one who first found out about Moody being a fake!"

"Your actions have been noted, but this is not up for discussion," 

Cassie's hands balled into fists. "Fine," she hissed, her voice ice-cold now. "But if you think I'm going to sit around and do nothing ... I'll find out the truth whether you like it or not."

Dumbledore's expression remained calm, but his mind worked quickly. Cassiopeia Black was a wildcard—short-tempered, ambitious, fiercely loyal to her own principles, and extraordinarily powerful. If her anger wasn't managed, she could easily become a liability—or worse, an enemy he couldn't afford to have.

He sighed, a calculated pause that conveyed weariness. "Very well. You may accompany us," he said finally, his voice soft but deliberate.

Cassie's smirk was immediate and sharp, a spark of triumph lighting her stormy eyes. She took a step forward, her slight limp barely noticeable-

************

They reached the stone gargoyle. Cassie followed at a deliberate pace, her sharp gaze darting between the walls of the dim corridor. Dumbledore muttered the password, the gargoyle sprang aside, and the spiral staircase moved upward. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding as they ascended toward the oak door.

Inside, Sirius was waiting. His face was pale, gaunt, and haunted, as though the shadows of Azkaban clung to him still. The moment the door opened, he crossed the room in a blur.

"Harry, are you all right?" . "I knew it—I knew something like this—what happened?"

He all but dragged Harry into the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, his hands trembling as he steadied the boy.

Cassie scowled. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her expression dark.

Sirius's eyes flicked toward her, narrowing instantly. "What are you doing here?" he snarled.

Cassie's smirk was ice-cold. "Could ask you the same thing. Oh, but I don't need to, do I? Of course, you're here for your precious little godson." 

Sirius turned on her, his own anger flaring. "This isn't about you, Cassiopeia!"

"No," she shot back, her voice rising, "it never is, is it? "You didn't even think twice about risking everything for him. Typical."

"That's enough," Dumbledore interjected sharply, his voice slicing through the tension like a whip. "Miss Black, this is not the time or the place for this."

Cassie clenched her jaw, glaring at Sirius for a long moment before falling silent, though her eyes burned with unspoken fury. She shifted slightly, her back pressed to the wall. A dull ache radiated through her torso—a lingering effect of the spell that had slammed into her earlier. She gritted her teeth against the pain
Dumbledore, seemingly unbothered by the exchange, began recounting everything Barty Crouch had said

When Dumbledore finally turned to Harry, his tone softened. "I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Harry," he said.

Sirius interjected. "We can leave that till morning, can't we, Dumbledore? Let him sleep. Let him rest."

Cassie watched the exchange, her lips twitching upward in a bitter smile.

Dumbledore, ignoring Sirius, leaned toward Harry. His voice was gentle but firm. "Harry, numbing the pain for a while will only make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. Tell us what happened."

The soft trill of the phoenix echoed through the room, and Cassie's sharp gaze flicked toward the bird. Its mournful song sent a shiver down her spine, though she would never admit it.

As Harry began to speak, Cassie listened intently, her arms still crossed. The details he recounted sent a flicker of unease through her, though she masked it behind a neutral expression.

When Harry described Wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger, Sirius let out an exclamation of rage. Cassie's brow furrowed as Dumbledore shot to his feet, crossing the room swiftly.

Dumbledore examined Harry's arm, his expression grave.

"He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's," Harry explained, his voice strained. "He said the protection my—my mother left in me—he'd have it too."

Cassie's eyes narrowed. Her lips curved into a smile, and she tilted her head slightly. "Blood magic," she murmured, her voice low and almost admiring. "That's genius. Dark, ancient, nearly impossible to counter—of course Voldemort would use it. Its fucking brilliant"

Sirius turned on her, his anger renewed. "Genius? Are you out of your mind? That monster—"

"Calm down, Black," Cassie snapped, her tone cutting. "I'm not praising him. I'm stating a fact. If you can't stomach that, that's your problem, not mine."

"Very well," Dumbledore said, ignoring the tension that thickened the room, sitting down again. "Voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. Harry, continue, please."

Harry went on; he explained how Voldemort had emerged from the cauldron and told them all he could remember of Voldemort's speech to the Death Eaters. Then he told how Voldemort had untied him, returned his wand to him, and prepared to duel.

But when he reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected his and Voldemort's wands, he found his throat obstructed. He tried to keep talking, but the memories of what had come out of Voldemort's wand were flooding into his mind. He could see Cedric emerging, see the old man, Bertha Jorkins... his father... his mother...

He was glad when Sirius broke the silence.

"The wands connected?" he said, looking from Harry to Dumbledore. "Why?"

Harry looked up at Dumbledore again, on whose face there was an arrested look.

"Priori Incantatem," Cassie said abruptly, "That's the only explanation."

Sirius looked at her sharply "The Reverse Spell effect?"

Cassie rolled her eyes,"Their wands share cores, don't they, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore inclined his head, his gaze steady on Cassie, 

"So what happens when a wand meets its brother?" Sirius pressed,

"They don't work properly against each other," Dumbledore explained,  "But if forced into battle, a rare effect occurs. One wand will compel the other to regurgitate its spells—in reverse order. The most recent first... then those before it."

Harry's face was pale, his eyes wide as he nodded in confirmation.

"Which means," Dumbledore continued, his voice softer now, "that some form of Cedric must have reappeared."

"Diggory came back to life?" Sirius asked sharply, his voice cracking under the weight of the thought.

"No, you idiot," Cassie snapped, "No spell can reawaken the dead. It was probably an echo—nothing more."

Harry's trembling voice broke the silence. "He spoke to me. The... the ghost Cedric, or whatever he was, spoke."

"An echo," Dumbledore clarified, his tone gentle but firm. "Retaining Cedric's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared... less recent victims of Voldemort's wand."

Harry nodded, his throat tight. "An old man... Bertha Jorkins... and..." His voice cracked, and he looked down, unable to meet anyone's eyes.

"Your parents?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"Yes," Harry whispered, his voice barely audible.

"The last murders the wand performed," Dumbledore murmured, nodding. "In reverse order. More would have appeared if you had maintained the connection. Very well, Harry, these echoes... these shadows... what did they do?"

Harry's voice faltered as he described how the figures had prowled the edges of the golden web, Voldemort's visible fear, and his father's instructions. When he mentioned Cedric's final request, his voice broke completely, and he fell silent, staring at his trembling hands.

Sirius had his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he tried to compose himself.

Cassie's gaze bore into Harry, her usual sharpness dulled by something deeper, darker. She looked away, her jaw clenching tightly  Her fingers curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms hard enough to leave marks.

"I will say it again," said Dumbledore as the phoenix rose into the air and resettled itself upon the perch beside the door. "You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight, Harry. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it — and you have now given us all that we have a right to expect. You will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace."

Harry nodded, getting up and moving towards the door.

"Miss Black, the same goes for you—"

"I wanna talk to you about something first," she said, her voice exhausted but firm

Sirius looked between them suspiciously, his brow furrowed. "I'll stay then—Harry, I'll be down there in a while."

Harry gave a small nod and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

"So?" Sirius said suspiciously, his eyes narrowing as he leaned against the edge of Dumbledore's desk.

Cassie crossed her arms . "You are not Dumbledore," she snapped, ignoring Sirius entirely.

"Miss Black," Dumbledore began, 

"So," she repeated, her tone dripping with mockery, "I assume, since Voldy's back, you'll be reestablishing the Order?"

Dumbledore's calm expression faltered for a split second as he shared a glance with Sirius.

"How do you—" Dumbledore started.

Cassie let out a dry laugh. "I know a lot more than you think, Dumbles."

"It's Dumbledore," Sirius corrected sharply, but she didn't even glance at him.

"Last time," she continued coldly, "you lot couldn't do enough to stop him. This time won't be any different. Different pawns, same losing game."

Sirius bristled, stepping closer. "You've no right to interfere in this—you're just a child."

Cassie scowled, her wand hand twitching as if itching for a fight. "A child? Tell me, Sirius, does that make me less of a Black than you? You don't even deserve the name. I do."

"Enough." Dumbledore's voice cut through the tension l He was watching Cassie carefully, his piercing gaze measuring her every word and movement.

"You know the first thing the Dark Lord will do?" Cassie said, turning back to Dumbledore. Her voice was low, deliberate. "The Dementors. They're his allies already. He'll remove them from Azkaban. Let them loose. What's your plan for that?"

"We are aware, Miss Black,"

"Are you?" she snapped, her eyes blazing. "Because your awareness didn't stop them from siding with him the last time, did it? What exactly are you planning to do this time, Dumbledore? Offer more speeches about hope and unity and love? Turn us all into pawns for your grand plan again?"

Sirius looked between them,  "Dumbledore, why is she even interfering? She has no place in this discussion!"

Cassie laughed, sharp and bitter, "Because whether you like it or not, you need me. Isn't that right, Dumbledore?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sirius snapped his hands clenched into fists.

Cassie ignored him entirely, her gaze fixed on Dumbledore like a predator circling its prey. "You'll need a headquarters, won't you? A safe place to gather your little army. Somewhere untraceable, unplottable. Convenient, then, that Grimmauld Place exists... which I know Sirius is planning to offer."

She coughed violently, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. When she pulled it away, streaks of blood stained her palm. Cassie wiped it on her robe with a twisted smirk, her eyes never leaving Dumbledore.

Sirius froze, his face draining of color.

"But here's the thing," Cassie continued, her voice venomous, her smirk widening. "You can't offer it, Sirius. You're disowned, remember? Legally, it's not yours to give. It's mine. I'm the heiress of the Black fortune. So, if you want Grimmauld Place..." She leaned in slightly, her words slicing through the silence. "...you need me."

"I don't need your permission for anything," Sirius snarled, 

Cassie tilted her head, a cruel, knowing smile curling her lips. "Don't you? Go ahead, Sirius. Walk into Grimmauld Place, redecorate, start playing house with your little Order. Let's see how long it takes for the wards to rip you apart."

"That's enough!" Sirius barked, lunging forward, but Dumbledore raised a hand

"Miss Black," he said softly, "This is not the time for infighting. We have a greater enemy—"

Cassie scoffed, rolling her eyes with exaggerated disdain. "Spare me the noble speeches, Dumbledore. You need me. You're not in a position to lecture." 

Cassie turned on her heel, her steps uneven as the limp she had tried to hide earlier became more pronounced.

She reached the exit and paused, Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes glistened with dangerous amusement, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Don't mistake this for loyalty to your Order, Dumbledore," 

Her gaze flickered to Sirius, then back to Dumbledore,  She added, almost lazily, "I haven't decided where my loyalties lie... not yet."

**********


AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH THAT LAST PART OMGGGGG- HAD EM SCREAMING- LIEK SHOW THEM WHO'S TEH BOSS-

AANDNDD YEA-- I WANTED TO CONTINUE BUT THEN THOT ITS ALR TOO LONG- SO WUZZA U GET ANOTHER CHAP

ALSOO I ASKEED GPT TO PROOFREAD THSI AND I HAVENT READ IT MYSELF- SO EXCUSE ANY ERRORS- ILL GET TO CHECKING IT SOON

ALSO- TYSM FOR THE 60K READS!!! 

TILL NEXT TIME-

MXRIDDLE