“Would you mind telling me now what we’re doing?”
They stood on the Wooden Bridge that led down to Hagrid’s hut and looked into distance. Mainly it was Hermione who had done so for the last fifteen minutes. Harry stood at her side and still just stared at her in hope for answers.
“Hermione?”
“As I said, I needed to escape.”, huffed the girl at last.
“From whom? Viktor?”, Hermione lowered her head with a sad smile.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I – don’t know.”, she curled her lips and looked away again.
“So you’re already fleeing from him – what’s next? Attacking him with books?”, chuckled Harry.
“You know they’re too sacred for me.”, unable to help a smirk, she nevertheless still avoided his eyes.
“Sure.”, another chuckle. “What happened?”
“I don’t know what happened.”
“You can tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can.”
“No, I can’t. Because, as I said, I don’t know what happened.”
“Then break up with him,”, her head finally zoomed at Harry.
“What?”, she hissed.
“Look, you’re obviously unhappy with him. Why don’t you break up then?”
“I can’t just – break up, Harry!”, Hermione moaned and looked into the blue once more. “It’s not that simple. I don’t know what exactly it is, but it isn’t as simple as it might sound to you.” – had she actually just –phrased it like this?
“But sooner or later you will have to face it.”
“I didn’t force you to come with me just to listen to things I might have guessed myself.”
“Then why else did you bring me here?”
“Oh can’t it just be that I need a male being around me that doesn’t drool after me or hates me causelessly?”, sighed Hermione. “Or is being mysterious towards me – ”, she added low, hoping he wouldn’t hear.
“What was that last?”
“Nothing.”, she replied curtly. “Listen, Harry – I – ”, she needed a deep breath, then she swallowed, “How’s your scar doing?”, and she also desperately needed a different topic.
“Not all too good,”, he looked into distance now as well. “It’s been hurting more frequently and wakes me at nights. Whatever’s happening, he must have found a way to become more powerful.”
“Do you think, he will return?”
“No idea.”, Harry scratched his neck. “I mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Karkaroff looks more and more panicked every day and keeps running after Snape, who’s getting annoyed by having to run away from him and my scar’s burning like hellfire when it hurts. I’d be a total dimwit if I pretended that this means nothing. There’s definitely something going on out there.”
“That’s not good, considering that you should rather be prepared on the third task.”
“Hermione!”, snarled Harry. “First, I don’t even know what’s it going to be or anything about it, and second, if he’s really on the move, I think, a third task will be the least to worry about! If he’s really returning, he’d be the actual third task!”
“Alright, alright.”, Hermione murmured. “I was just saying.”
“Yeah. Sure. It’s not that you know what it feels like. You have no idea how it feels to be torn between thoughts or fears you don’t even know where exactly they come from – or have emotions you shouldn’t have and that don’t feel like they’re your own.”
How wrong he was, thought Hermione. But how should she tell him? How?
“You’re right. I don’t know what such feels like.”, someone else gave the answer she meant to give and they turned their heads down to the outer end of the bridge. “At least not what it feels like to you. After all, you are a woman.”, puffed the man with Russian accent and she wondered how they had gotten there without passing her or Harry.
“I’m not talking about gender differences here.”, she replied, as angry as him, stomping by his left. “I’m talking about principles.”
“I have spent four years now with him – does it not occur to you that I might know him?”
“I spent – oh what was it? Six and a half?”, Burbage snapped. “And other than those four years you are so proud of having spent with him, we didn’t break contact! You didn’t give a shit about him! For twelve years!”
“Eleven and nine months.”, Karkaroff corrected her.
“Oh wonderful! Three months in a cosy cell. That is all he was worth to you before you thought betraying him might help you out there.”
“You don’t understand!”
“You two do though know that I am still walking behind you?”, Snape threw his words over their shoulders, but they marched on, differently coloured hair bumping with their steps.
“Quite, yes.”, huffed Burbage.
“Yes, I agree with you that he was a bit of a jacksie; and still is;”
“Hey!”, Karkaroff spun and stomped on backwards now.
“Don’t deny, Igor.”, Snape murmured. “You are a swine. Be glad that you haven’t taken a shortcut in the Grand Tower yet with a little help of my hands.”
“Oh come on, what would it take for you to care for Viktor as well? And don’t bring up again, that he is my student.”
“Well, not regarding that he is your student,”, Snape said mock ponderingly but ended his answer quickly above Karkaroff’s huffing, “He’d have to be my son, yes.”
“Tz.”
“Honestly, as great fun it is listening to the two of you trying to analyse my psyche, I can think of various better things to do with my day.”, Karkaroff sighed on it and decided it was wiser to turn his back on that grimace, not only for proper walking. “So, either you let me through or change the topic.”
“And what do you suggest?”, asked Karkaroff.
“That you let me through and change the topic.”
“And what do you suggest as a topic?”
“I am not your mother.”, Snape snorted when they actually passed Hermione and Harry now, who had to squeeze themselves to the old, creaking banister, dangerously close to fall outside. “Grow up, for Igy’s sake. You’re a decade older than me. Fairly enough time for doing that, one might think. But if you really are so helpless, perhaps, wonder why Miss Granger and Mr Potter there have grown ears of the size of Miss Patil’s when possible gossip appears to be wafting through the air.”
“We haven’t grown ears like Parvati, Sir!”, Hermione protested. “It’s not our fault, that you and your dear friends decided to walk the same bridge we stood on!”
“Mind your tongue, Miss Granger.”, Karkaroff added some Russian muttering to that. “And you too, mutt. If you must gnaw at something, please take some meat but leave my anyway filthy mood.”
“Has he just called him a – ?”, aspirated Harry when the three left the bridge into the yard.
“A jacksie, a swine and a mutt within less than a minute, yes. They have a rather interesting friendship.”, Hermione aspirated.
“Friendship.”
“Yes, Harry, friendship.”, he blinked heavily on the malevolent glare she gave him and turned to look at the landscape again, much to her comfort.
“SEVERUS!”
They spun so fast they almost fell over. All they could see was Burbage struggling to push him away from Karkaroff, who was on the cobbles, blood starting to trickle from his nose and mouth which he wiped off and he gazed at his hand to see whether it was actually there. Then he stared up to the younger man whose face was hidden behind his swaying greasy curtains.
“TAKE THA’ BACK!”, he barked.
“Please come down, Severus!”, Burbage moaned, having troubles holding him. “That’s really not worth it. Besides, they are – ”
“I dUn’ give a damn – ”
“Severus,”, she had pulled her wand from her pocket and pierced it into his throat, which apparently made him falter enough to stop struggling. “He may be an arsehole, but if you need to discuss that in such a way, keep it to your office! You’re a teacher, for Heavens’ sake! You can’t just go punching your old friends because they throw the one or other nastiness at you!”
“You don’t know – ”
“Don’t I? Well, sorry I haven’t told you, but I do understand Russian very well. Yes, I know exactly what he said and to be honest, I’d really like to turn right now and add a kick of my own. You tell people to keep their tongues at bay? That’s rather rich, considering that you can’t even control your fists. You’re not your father.”
“Severus? I – I’m – ”
“Save your breath, Karkaroff.”, he huffed, pushed the woman’s hand aside with enough force to make her stumble and stomped off. “If you actually knew what you just said there, you’d hang yourself.”
“Oh come on! You don’t really take me that serious, do you?”
“One word like that again and you will find the Selkies making bets on whether you suffocate before the Grindylows eat you under your ship.”
“And what is the difference? Is he your son or what?”, Karkaroff chuckled but Snape disappeared inside without an answer. “I am still talking to you!”
“You’d rather be careful.”, meant Burbage.
“But he hates him!”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. The last time he defended someone like that was in his schooldays and there are only two sorts of situations that can make him address his friends by their surnames.”
“You think he defended him?”
“You really are dumb. Try a different person next time and see what his reaction is. If it’s the same, it’s either coincidence or I was totally wrong. Personally, I’d go for the first. But just an advice, you shouldn’t get too near him within the next couple of days. I don’t know what he usually does to keep you at bay, but I can assure you it doesn’t work the other way round.”
Now she as well turned for the open gates and vanished inside then, leaving the bewildered Headmaster and teenagers behind. It took a long while for even the seemingly burning air to cool. Finally Karkaroff pushed himself up. His face blood smeared, he spun at Harry’s whispered question, in the otherwise quiet surrounding obviously loud enough to be heard by him.
“Who do you think that was about?”
“I – I have an idea – but – no – that can’t be – ”, Hermione stammered honest. “Let’s go to Hagrid.”
“I was there before!”, Harry raged but couldn’t fully resist her fierce hand that grabbed his arm and pulled him along.
“I don’t think he’ll mind seeing you twice a day. Karkaroff, however, looks like he’d go really mad on us if we stayed here. So come on. And don’t ever bring up again what we just saw.”
“Honestly, you think I’d – ”
“Never.”
~~#~~
An enchanting melody drifted through a gap between the high, gilded doors, flooding the ancient room. In a caressing embrace, a couple stood in front, listening to the choir’s song. Viktor had wrapped his arms around her from behind and she leant back against his chest. Not caring about time, they enjoyed the music together. Hermione just attempted to turn and give him a kiss, when additional voices distracted her. The moment she located the direction, she saw the source already and could do nothing but huff at the irony.
“Just try to be careful.”, said Snape, sounding utterly concerned. “We both know exactly what it means.”
“You say? I’ve been trying to tell you for almost a year!”
“Half a year. And keep your voice down, Igor. The choir is practising and you really don’t want Filius’ attention. Listen,”, he stopped him with his hands on his upper arms. “You can’t go yet. Wait. Wait at least until tomorrow night. Viktor needs your guidance, your attendance. Be fair to him.”
“But this isn’t fair anymore.”, Karkaroff moaned. “You know it isn’t.”
“Yes, I know it isn’t. It has never been. Just try for some care. You can count on me, Igor. I’m on your side. Yes, I am. Just – don’t dump him in cold water.”, Snape gently pulled him in a brotherly embrace. “Please.”
“Suddenly he doesn’t have to be your son anymore?”, the way he was pushed off, yet held by the shoulders, didn’t bode well. “Alright, alright. I will stay as long as I can. But if they get me,”
“I will try my best and stand in for you.”, he patted on his friend’s shoulder and let go at last. “Here.”, Snape took something from his pocket and placed it in Karkaroff’s right hand.
“What is this?”
“Four drops, eight hours.”
“Oh. That crap.“, Karkaroff sighed. “Thank you, my friend.”
“Not worth mentioning. Good night, Igor.”
“Yes. May yours be as pleasant as possible as well.”
Karkaroff turned and waved back, a little limp, when he shuffled through the Entrance Hall. He was so deeply in thoughts with his eyes on the crystal flask that he didn’t even see the couple he passed. But Snape saw them. Viktor waited until his Headmaster was gone.
“Vot does this mean? Dump me in cold voter? Again or vot?”
“Nothing you need to worry about. He won’t. Please be a gentleman and bring Miss Granger up to her House, safely and without detours. And mind the fifth floor. There is a new trick stair. She knows where it is. Just make sure that she doesn’t forget until you reach it. Good night.”, the teacher spun around and marched back down the spiral staircase, out of sight.
“Vot is going on here?”
“No idea. But I think, I should really go to bed. So should you. You need the sleep for tomorrow.”
~~#~~
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where have they gone?”
“It probably belongs to the task.”
Whispers filled the air.
People were having very similar conversations on the stands all around the Quidditch pitch and the omnipresent excitement slowly transformed into crawling nervousness.
“Now that’s an interesting twist!”, Ludo Bagman’s beaming voice with a faintly panicking undercurrent echoed over the field of hedges. “Always in for a surprise, the committee!”
“Lend me your binoculars, please.”, Hermione reached down to Parvati who gave them to her.
Instead of the maze, her subject of interest was Dumbledore. He and Fudge looked rather worried as well, though were more than obviously busy hiding it to their momentary best. At Dumbledore’s left, Moody’s blue eye was rolled to the back of his head and he seemed comparatively calm, concentrated on studying the situation. She realised whom he watched. One row above, next to Madam Maxime who needed a lot of space, Igor Karkaroff was pure panic in person. His hand on his left forearm, he was visibly fighting some urge and Hermione knew that if there would be any hint of reaction from his mark, he would jump up and be gone.
Hermione’s whole insides collapsed to something of the size and taste of the most sour lemon – and she detested lemons. This was not about any tournament or wizarding glory anymore; wherever the cup had taken Harry and Cedric, they would quite likely face the perhaps impossible task to – survive. Harry had been right.
Trying not to show anything either, especially since the awareness of what Harry had said began to imprint itself in her mind, she tilted down the binoculars. Below Dumbledore’s seat, the Heads of Houses formed a sitting line. Between Sprout and McGonagall, the next important person in the secret matter. As straight as a board and his hands flat on his knees, Snape’s eyes rushed around under his narrowed brows, trailing over sceneries that apparently were inexistent for him. She could downright feel the pressure between the teeth he hid.
Solely noticed by four, Karkaroff pressed his eyes and lips shut, wrenching his arm. Madam Maxime and Poliakoff stared at him as though something slimy and ugly was about to break from his body. A scarce smile drifted onto Moody’s scarred face, but that didn’t bother her at the moment. Snape, looked more grim than ever. She could see his fingers dig into his thighs and his eyeballs flick to the left corner of their orbits. Then, as expected and accompanied by visible mutters of apologies, Karkaroff raised and squeezed himself towards the stairs of their spectator. She had to act. Handing the binoculars back, she stood up as well and went for the staircase two rows behind her.
“Where’re you going?”, Ron called after her.
“Toilet.”, she replied curt and hurried off.
Halfway down the tower, she nearly stumbled, but could catch herself early enough not to take the remaining stairs rolling. Finally grass under her shoes. Panting heavily already, she stormed around the arena and to the northern tent through which the Champions had entered the maze, just when a rush of black shoved a rush of brown inside and against a post. Hoping that her breathing wouldn’t give her away, Hermione peered inside the dim lit cavern of thick, dark fabric.
“Severus – let me go – please let me go – it’s happening – you said you would – ”
“Clam down, Igor.”, Snape said as reposeful as he wished his friend to be, whose striking white curls appeared to have won the battle against whatever gel or spell he had used to flatten them to his head.
“He’s coming – he’s returning – Severus – ”
“I said, calm down!”, hissed Snape and Karkaroff silenced immediately as a gust of air had erupted from what seemed to have been Snape’s entire body. “Calm down.”, he repeated softly, his hands now moving from Karkaroff’s shoulders to his cheeks. “I know, Igor. I know. Please do me a favour and try not to panic. At least, not more than you do already.”
“I need to get away from here – far away – ”
“Of course, Igor. I know you can’t stay here. I have arranged everything for you, like I promised. Just give me a minute or two. I need to check whether the house is still safe. Here.”, he pulled his black pouch from his trousers, from which he took another one, made of brown fur. “I packed your things while you had been going down here. Take it and wait exactly here for me.”, Snape let go, but Karkaroff had no intentions to stay.
“I can go with you – you know I know how to get there – ”, he marched after him.
“No, you don’t.”, Snape pressed him to the post again. “It’s a new house.”
“But I can still go with you – ”
“No.”, and another time. “You are too far off your senses to think logical, should someone have found it. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“But Severus, I – ”
“Petrificus Totalus!”
Within a split second he lost his confusion as his eyes found Hermione’s. Then he already caught the other man who was as solid and straight as the post now. Carefully, he laid him onto the ground.
“Thank you, Miss Granger.”, he sighed, not even seeming to wonder why she was there. “Maybe you can do me a favour and watch him, please?”
“Yes, Professor.”, gargled the girl when he hurried over to her. “Is it – ”
Her teacher broke against another post at the entrance, to her left. Struggling for breath, he held to it, his fingers corpse-white. Had he been able to move, she knew that Karkaroff would have been the same. Panting heavier than after his chase, he stared blank into the night. Hermione could just see his expression past his black curtain of hair.
“Sir?”, she whispered, but his eyes only fixated the grass in the dreary shine.
“I need to go.”, his determination was back, at least to his voice. “If I should not return before he summons the lot, I fear, there is no chance for any of us.”
“So he’s – ”, moaned Hermione.
A mass of black fog soared into the dark and was gone. Hermione could barely stand upright. Her wand clutched by her whitening fingers, the murmurs of the people talking up on the stands seemed far away, like in a different world. Deafened by her momentary shock, everything only slowly started to pour down on her. For three years the world had done its best to make her prepared, but now that the moment had come, she was plainly unconscious.
He was back.
With all that turmoil Harry had made around Crouch having disappeared and Dumbledore finally having confessed that they had been right about Snape having been a Death Eater – and then at last finding out Rita Skeeter’s secret – and her constant attempts to avoid Viktor while she actually wanted to spend all hours at all days with him – time had passed faster than anyone; even she; would have imagined. Enough time for the big bang, everyone had hoped so desperately not to come, to happen at last behind the façade of everyday hassle: Lord Voldemort, the most evil wizard of all times, was back. Returned from his ghost-like state, ready to continue his journey of terror to gain power. And Harry and Cedric were in his hands. That was where the cup had –
“Now that’s an interesting sight,”
Somewhat eerily dreamy, a girl’s voice tore Hermione from her gruesome growing awareness. She had neither seen her coming, nor knew who she was, but if the situation had been another, she might have been able to recall that Ginny had spoken about that girl sometimes.
“Who petrified him?”
“Me – ”, aspirated Hermione.
“Why?”
“He’s – not – to leave – ”, black fog landed between them and caught their attention.
“Good evening, Professor. You really have a talent for appearing out of nowhere.”
“Miss Lovegood?”, he blinked. “This is really not a place for you to be,”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Sir. It seems, I stumble into the most curious situations, but in the end I never found to have been in the wrong place.”
Snape just shook his head and walked towards his friend. Kneeling down a little, he tapped his wand on him and helped him up. Equally wordless, he supported him out of the tent and they vanished in the night, Karkaroff not without a loathing glance at Hermione.
“I’m Luna, by the way.”, sang the girl with her hands behind her back and seesawed.
“Oh.”, it dawned on Hermione. “I’m – ”
“Hermione Granger, I know.”, she smiled.
“Sure.”
“So? What’s happening here?”
Hermione just gazed at that Luna’s bright smile. Could she tell her? Could she dare, breaking this momentary so joyful girl?
“He’s back.”, she whispered hollow, just above the voices outside the tent.
“Who?”, it came short and lively; Hermione swallowed in her pause.
“You-Know-Who.”
The girl’s smile froze in place and her seesawing reduced to a slight staggering, coming to halt when her lips parted and her dreamy eyes gazed back, turning into hollow silver tunnels. Like a dead puppet she stood there with her hands still behind her back and a bright orange necklace hanging down over her Ravenclaw uniform. The golden lightning bolts on her ears stopped dangling under her fair, wavy mane. Footsteps in the grass. Upset voices, arguing.
“I am sure, this is all just a mistake. Something must have gone wrong with the cup, Dumbledore. They will be back as soon as they figure out how to use it.”, Fudge sang, though nervous.
“I am afraid, I cannot share your opinion, Cornelius. Yes, indeed something has gone wrong, but this is far bigger than any of us might yet be able to imagine.”
“Conspiracies? To kidnap Potter? Honestly, you must listen to yourself and see how pathetically ridiculous this sounds! Of course, some people might have discrepancies with him, but kidnapping him – though maybe, if you really believe so, I might be able to think of one person who – ”
“And who, Minister?”, Moody growled and they all came to stand in front of the tent, looking at each other.
“Black.”
“’O?”, asked Madam Maxime, only visible up to her chest.
“Ridiculous, as you say it, Cornelius.”, Dumbledore continued, getting audibly angry. “Sirius Black has nothing to do with this.”
“He is a mass murderer! He wanted them long ago! The whole family! Even the boy! And last year!”
“I am sure, you believe in your wondrous opinions, but some things have evidence wandering in the world – ”
“And I am sure, you’d like to know that this conversation isn’t private, Albus.”, said Moody, nodding into the tent.
The two spun and Maxime bent down to look inside. It apparently took her some moments to spot the girls that were standing there.
“Miss Granger? Miss Lovegood?”, Dumbledore frowned. “What would you two be doing here?”
“Talking.”, Luna replied instantly, though as hollow as Hermione had spoken before.
“Can you not think of a better place to talk at?”, he asked calm and entered the tent, followed by the others. “Is – everything right with you? You look enormously worried and off your senses,”, Hermione’s eyes stood panic-stricken open, drilling into his in hope he would see what was on her mind. “Miss Granger?”
“Vare – is – Karkaroff? Vare – is he?”, Viktor had obviously regained conscience and run all the way from the first-aid tent when he had heard them pass by.
“Shouldn’t you be recovering, Mr Krum?”, chuckled Dumbledore when he had closed up.
“I am – fine. They say – Potter – and Diggory – are gone – vare are – they? Hermy-own-ninny? Vot is – vith you?”, he walked over to her and laid his hands on her arms. “You look pale – vot happened? Vare are is Karkaroff? Vare are they all?”
“He is gone.”, said a deep, soft voice from outside the tent and everyone turned to see who it was.
“Severus?”, Dumbledore aspirated. “What does that mean, `he is gone´?”
“Has he ran avay? Has he – dumped me into cold voter?”, Snape, a limp picture of misery, lightly shook his head.
“This has nothing to do with you. You are safe, for now.”
“What ees ’e talking about?”, moaned Maxime, not noticing that Moody stared straight through her to see Snape. “What ees zis all about, Dumbledore?”
Before anyone could try to answer more questions, Snape was on his knees. Gasping for air and sudden terror in his dark eyes that stood wide open, he held his left forearm to his body, the palm at where his heart was apparently hammering against his ribs and supported himself with the other. Staring around in panic, he sank a little to the left and squinted, the breath taken from his lungs again.
“Severus?”, moaned Dumbledore, but found himself unable to move otherwise – Fudge had seized his upper arm in a reaction of shock.
Snape just gazed into space, trying not to suffocate from something far from his influence. He gritted his teeth with his eyes pressed shut, the hint of a forced back groan of pain drifting though the rows. His eyes shot open once more and he breathed in as though he had been underwater for a long time. Fudge and Maxime took some steps away from him as he began to mutter to himself, forcing Dumbledore and Moody to do the same. Hermione tried to understand.
“Dun’ le’ ’im.”, was the first she could decipher. “Jus’ dun’ le’ ’im ge’ ye – please – ”
“Severus.”, Dumbledore urged now. “What is happening. Please tell me.”, but Snape closed his eyes another time, muttering on, his fingers clutched into the fabric on his chest and the grass.
“Be stron’ – dun’ give up – no’ now – be stron’ – stron’ like yer mother – ”
With another deep breath, his head fell into his neck, then rushed around again. Telling from his look and acting, Hermione knew that he wasn’t seeing anything of what was in the tent. Nevertheless he attempted to push himself up from the ground. He even managed to, but staggered, finding hold on a post to his right after stumbling in its direction. His arm was still at his chest and he winced once more.
“O fodder. Gonadh. Cuidich.”, he aspirated to the wood, his face buried in his right hand and covered by the greasy hair.
“Sir?”, Hermione finally managed to loosen herself from Viktor’s hands and walked over to him, very slow, so she wouldn’t trip over her own weak feet.
“’Old on. Jus’ ’old on. Dun’ give in. Oh God – if ye exis’, ’elp – do anythin’ – jus’ – sum’thin’ – ”
“Sir!”, Hermione shouted at her best, right when a woman squalled into the tent.
“What is going on here?”, the already very common question fell. “Miss Granger? What are you doing here? Why are you shouting? Severus? Is that you? What is happening? What are you all doing here? What?”, she was so beside herself that if she hadn’t recognised her, Hermione wouldn’t have thought of Professor McGonagall having entered the tent; Professor Burbage was on her heels, failing at the try to get past her wildly brandishing arms.
“Sir!”, Hermione shouted a little louder, ignoring the shock all around; though he kept muttering, in what she believed to be Gaelic now.
“Severus Snape! SHE IS talking to you!”, not only Hermione was startled.
“I must ask you please, Miss Lovegood,”, Dumbledore warned, but Snape finally raised his tear-washed face and gazed at her through his black strands.
“What’s happening?”, Hermione continued, quiet and calm again. “Can you see it? What does he do?”
Though the answer was another groan of agony and he huddled back against his hand at the post. Then strangely, his breath calmed down so fast he appeared to not even believe himself that it did. He raised his head and stared at the wood, blank. No one but Hermione, and probably him, had heard the sound from the other side of the tent. Alarmed, she spun about and saw the two figures, lying on the grass outside at the entrance of the maze, behind Dumbledore. As soon as he had spotted them as well, he hurried towards the boys, the air already filled with footsteps and louder voices from above. People were on their feet, trying to see what had happened; some started climbing downstairs in hope they would be able to reach the scene soon enough to get a better view.
“Harry! Harry!”, Dumbledore had knelt down and turned him over.
Hermione clapped her hands on her mouth and ran. But somehow, she didn’t. Something was holding her back. Someone. A pair of strong arms was wrapped around her upper body, keeping her from joining them. No, he wasn’t – he couldn’t be – he – dropped the Triwizard Cup and grabbed Dumbledore’s wrist. Hermione slackened in the arms with relief, sinking back against a warming chest, where a heart was beating firmly at her head. At last she looked down and saw the black sleeves with rows of buttons. It was him. He had regained strength. Hermione’s eyes fell shut as the tension faded.
“He’s back,”, Harry’s voice whispered over all others, or maybe just so clearly for her since she had already feared she would never hear it again. “He’s back. Voldemort.”
He spoke out loud what she had gotten to know for what seemed decades ago already. Fudge stammered something, but she didn’t listen. She didn’t pay attention. Harry was safe. Her best friend was alive. Her breath becoming controlled, she drowned in the nest she had been forced into, feeling trembling but soft fingers brushing over her hair and cheek. It was alright. Everything was fine. Harry was alive and okay. It didn’t matter how many Dark Lords were outside the secured school grounds. They were inside and no one could harm them. No one.
“He’s dead!”
“Cedric Diggory! Dead!”
Hermione’s eyes didn’t open when she broke down in Snape’s arms, crying out a nondescript pain she had swallowed all the time. The arms tightened around her and the brushing intensified.
“Sh.”, she heard him whisper. “Sh, sh, sh.”, but she somehow felt that he didn’t want to calm only her. “Sh, Hermione. Sh. Don’t.”
The arms turned her around and held her close again. Now she heard the heart that had become placid, just like it had been months ago. His warmth filling her, was only little relief to the horror that finally reached the important parts of her mind. Something shortly touched her head from above. She couldn’t tell what it was, but his hands were on the back of her head and her spine, both stroking her fatherly. Then some bigger thing – and she recognised it to be his cheek, because he swallowed. Someone walked past them in the chaos of voices and a gut-wrenching cry of a man followed, which she realised it must belong to Cedric’s father who had arrived.
More people came from behind, moaning in protest. Had it been Harry that had been brought away? Still weeping, she didn’t dare to rise from that comforting chest, nor did he dare to let go. People were discussing over things she didn’t want to hear. In between, Amos Diggory’s crying, hurting her uncovered ear. As if he had felt it, he placed his warm hand on it to shut the sound away from her. A girl screamed over the crowd that had gathered.
“Harry! Where’s Harry! Where is he!”, it was Ginny, forcing her way through the students that had crammed into the tent; Hermione finally opened her eyes, getting a blurred view on people that looked everywhere but not in their direction.
“He’s gone.”, said Luna, stopping her with a surprisingly firm grip.
The arms fell and the noise was clashing to her ears again. Getting hold of the fact, she understood and stepped back from him, right when he said his first loud word. Some people jumped in surprise.
“What?”, he moaned to the girls. “Gone? Where?”
“Alastor took him.”, said McGonagall who stood by the exit into the pitch with Viktor and a crooked Madam Maxime.
“Took him?”, Snape’s tone became anxious.
“Up to the castle, Severus.”, Dumbledore returned inside while Fudge stayed with Mr Diggory.
“No.”, Snape aspirated and stepped back as well, panicking. “No!”
“Severus – “
“Faigh muin – ”, he murmured, spun and stormed at a group of agitated students that jumped aside in shock.
“Severus!”, Dumbledore bellowed, but the only thing that stopped the other man was a wave of his wand, knocking him back and to the ground.
“Baobh!”, Snape roared, turned and pushed himself up in no time, fury in every feature of his white face.
“Really, Severus!”, gasped McGonagall. “Mind your language!”
“Oh he does,”, Dumbledore chuckled. “Otherwise he would have used one I understand.”
“Shu’ up!”, Snape spat and several students backed away in fear, having forgotten to cry at an instant. “An’ lemme ou’!”
“Now, now, Severus.”, Dumbledore raised his hands to calm him. “Relax and – ”
“ThA hell I will! I need tER find ’im! I need ter sto’ ’im!”
“Alastor, you mean? Why?”
“’cause ’e’s tha mole!”
There was this sort of long pauses no one liked to share. Professor Burbage used it to walk over to him however.
“Mind what you are saying there.”, the old man became serious.
“I’ve known it all thA time! Igor knew as well! I jus’ persuaded ’im tER keep shu’ ’bou’ it ’til we were sure!”
“Alastor Moody? A mole? Don’t be silly, Severus.”, Flitwick had felt the need to speak his mind as well and Dumbledore paced towards Snape, probably in hope to make him speak more quiet.
“He winced.”, huffed Snape, some disturbing glistening in his eyes and his language back to something more articulate. “Just when Igor and I felt it. He winced. Did a good job to hide it, but not from me. He carries the Mark, Albus.”
“This is a truly fascinating story. Anything more to add?”
“Oh yes, there’s a lot. But that has to wait. I must find him – he could be anywhere up there – doing hell only knows to – ”
“Severus, I assure you, Harry is in safe han-”
“’E’S NO’!”, he growled at Dumbledore who had grabbed his upper arms so hard that he startled and almost dropped the wand he had pulled from his sleeve without anyone’s notice.
“Calm down, Severus, and tell me all your evidence you believe to have. We cannot act unless we know more. I can not allow you to go up there and confront him alone. Knowing Alastor, I am afraid, you wouldn’t stand a chance if he really fell for the – wrong – side – ”, his eyes gaped at the firm female hand that loosened his grip to free the shaking man’s arm, her other on Snape’s back.
“Alastor Moody didn’t.”, said Snape, stern and cold. “But whoever pretends to be him, has.”
“I beg your pardon?”, McGonagall had moved over to them.
“For months I’ve been thinking that students stole from my storage, trying to brew Polyjuice Potion.”
“Yes, we already discussed this matter.”, Dumbledore confirmed.
“But I had been wrong. It was him. Have you ever seen Moody being disgusted by what he drank from his hipflask? Have you ever seen that? Just yesterday I mentioned his sister to him and he was off-guard. The real one never was. If any, he was upset. But the `Moody´ we’ve got here, looked like he believed me to speak rubbish.”, Dumbledore brushed his beard with his free hand, obviously getting the clue. “He’s an impostor! A Death Eater that had been walking the castle for almost a year, right under your oh so brilliant nose and you refused to see it! You refused to listen!”
“Severus – ”
“Bad enough you hired him for spying on Igor.”, muttered Snape. “Bad enough you asked me to do the same, while the actual enemy had your spoken permission in any matter. Moody fought with you! Just like Igor had fought along my side! And rather like you, I did recognise the man who had stood by me in my darkest hours before he fell victim to his own plans! Igor may be a shifty liar and a selfish backstabber when his life is threatened, but he’s not dumb. Neither am I. Though your supposed wit seems to have a talent for messing up whom to suspect and whom to trust when it would be most necessary to listen to your heart.”, whatever had been left of determination in Dumbledore, it slid off him now. “You say, you trust me? If you really do in at least the slightest way, then trust me now! Harry is in danger! So, if you excuse me, I need to save his life!”
His cloak bulged up like a flag in the wind as he spun from Burbage’s feeble attempt of comforting him and ran out of the tent, Hermione’s feet reacting without her notice. She hurtled past Ron who had wanted to come over to her, right after Dumbledore who had seized McGonagall’s wrist. But suddenly they were gone and she knew that Dumbledore had managed to catch hold of Snape.
“Hermione – ”, Ron gasped, but she just sank to her knees with ultimate exhaustion.
~~#~~
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