Harry bounced a few times as the Portkey released him, landing on Draco’s bed; the impact making him winded for a moment. He lay there for a few minutes getting his equilibrium back, breathing deeply. His emotions were on a roller coaster and he felt on the verge of breaking out into sobs. Images kept flashing behind his eyelids: Voldemort rising from the cauldron, Pettigrew chopping off his own hand, scores of Death Eaters in black robes and silver masks, the duel, the ghosts of Voldemort’s victims speaking to him, his father and Professor Moody... As that thought flickered, his sobs broke out and he turned over to bury his face in his brother’s pillow; curling up on the silver and green duvet. He hoped they arrived soon and were safe.

The sound of someone moving around in the sitting room shut him up faster than a spell, and he was up and at the door, wand at the ready, dashing the tears from his eyes. He slowly eased the door open just far enough to peer through. What he saw confused him: Dumbledore was searching through the potions cabinet in the hallway. Harry opened the door further and stepped out, wand down at his side.

“Sir? Can I help you?” he asked politely, but with a confused tilt to his head.

The twinkle was absent, and instead a hardness had come to the headmaster’s voice; one that scared Harry as he took a step away from him as he spoke. “Harry, my boy... Erm, Madame Pomfrey ran out of some potions ... How did you get back here? I thought you were...”

“You thought what, Albus? That Harry was dead?” Severus stated from the doorway behind Harry. “Harry, step away from him...” he ordered, reaching out a beckoning hand towards his son.

“Dad? What?” Harry turned to look at Severus but squeaked indignantly as the Headmaster snaked an arm around him, drawing him up against his body. A mild bubbling sound caught Harry’s ear and he looked down horrified as the skin of his Professor’s arm began roiling and the man began grunting behind him, as if in the throes of a seizure. He couldn’t help it – it was the last straw in a day full of bizarre occurrences and his mind finally began to gibber: Harry screamed and began clawing at the arm that was changing right under his nose.

“Let him go!” Snape growled, wand held up and taking aim.

“No,” the man gasped, clutching Harry tighter while his skin and body changed. Harry had a wild look in his eyes as he tried to wrench himself away. “He’s my ticket out of here!” He began inching towards the door, but Severus threw a sealing spell at the oak door, causing it to blend into the wall, followed by another spell that bricked up the Floo, rendering it useless as well before returning to his original stance.

“You can’t go anywhere. Who are you?”

“Just wait thirty seconds, Snape, and we shall find out. Clever, hiding as the Headmaster...” wheezed Moody as he moved out of the shadows. “Two against one and nowhere to go... let the boy go, he can’t help you.”

Another spasm tore through the man and Harry finally managed to tear himself loose, running across the room to slip in behind his father, panting in fear.

“Are you alright?” Severus asked, not taking his eyes off of the Polyjuiced imposter, waiting for the transformation to end.

“I’m fine, now... you?” Harry asked, noting ripped and dirty robes and minor cuts on both men.

“We’ll live. Mad-eye here took one that knocked him out for a bit, but he’s like a cockroach – he’ll survive anything short of a nuclear strike,” he scoffed. Harry grinned at the reference, though Moody looked a trifle bit confused.

“Let’s see if we can get some answers, gentlemen.” He summoned one of Severus’ dining chairs, sending it to knock into the back of the faux Headmaster’s knees, causing him to abruptly sit down; Severus binding him quickly with an Incarcerus and summoning a bottle of Veritaserum from his lab. The transformation was almost finished, the long, grey hair disappearing only to be replaced with short, dark hair, and the lines in the face had smoothed out into the face of man in his late twenties, early thirties with eyes wild and darting, taking in everything around him, searching in vain for an exit. The three wizards stepped cautiously nearer, taking a closer look.

“Look familiar, Snape?” Moody asked.

Severus nodded and Harry gasped causing his father to glance at him sharply.

“Harry?”

“My dream last summer – he was in it, I just now remembered. He was there with Wormtail – but in the background, he didn’t say anything so I didn’t really notice him. Who is he?”

Snape returned his gaze to the wizard in front of him, Dumbledore’s robes hanging loosely on his wiry frame. “Barty Crouch, Junior. One of Voldemort’s most devoted zealots. But he was sent to Azkaban when Karkarof gave his name up as one of the Death Eater’s responsible for the torture of Longbottom’s parents. He was supposed to have died several years ago,” he said accusingly. “I think it’s time to get some answers.” He uncorked the tiny vial of powerful truth potion and poured the contents down their captive’s throat, causing him to sputter for a moment.

Barty began laughing crazily soon after, picking up the story where Snape had left off. “Yes, my poor mother took my place – she couldn’t bear seeing me in there and she was dying already, a wasting disease. The Dementor’s don’t care who is in their cells, you see, as long as there is someone there. We switched using Polyjuice. Then my father kept me at home under an Imperious to keep me pliant and quiet, our House-elf keeping watch.”

“Winky...” Harry guessed, remembering the cowering elf that Crouch had sacked at the Quidditch match.

“What happened?” Moody asked.

“One of my father’s secretaries came over to deliver some papers and he wasn’t home. She heard Winky talking to me in the kitchen and figured it out. Father came in and panicked, Obliviating her. And it held until last summer when she went to Albania to visit with her sister. Pettigrew discovered her and in the process of interrogating her, broke through father’s block and found me.” A maddening glee entered his eyes, lighting them up in his remembrance.

Mad-eye took up the tale. “So, they found you, released you, Imperiused your father and eventually killed him.”

“So Malfoy told me... Good riddance.” He spat on the floor.

“Where is Dumbledore?” Severus demanded. The only response he got was Crouch giggling. A gag quickly found its way around the cackling mouth. Apparently even Veritaserum had its limits when dealing with insane individuals.

“Useless,” Severus commented wryly. “And we’ve been under his direction all year! Why we didn’t spot him...” he mentally castigated himself for missing the switch.

“Albus was always a bit mad, what was a little more? We all just thought age was catching up with him,” Moody pointed out.

“Was he the one who put my name in the cup?” Harry asked, looking first at his father and then at Barty.

Raising an eyebrow, Snape removed the gag. “Well? Was it you?”

Barty had reached a chatty phase and the words spilled out, his tongue fairly tripping over itself in its eagerness to impart information. “Actually, no – that was Dumbledore himself. I didn’t switch places with him until November when I caught him in Hogsmeade. But it fit our plans perfectly, don’t you agree? Then Malfoy changed the spell on the cup when he placed it in the maze and he and I managed to keep the worst of the challenges in the maze away from Harry... even Imperiused Krum to take out the competition!” He began laughing again, the sound grating on their ears so, with a wave of his hand, Severus gagged him again.

“I’m going to go summon the Auror’s and Minerva, Severus. Then I’m going to go search Albus’ rooms. He had to keep Albus nearby as a source for the potion, I’m sure he’s up there.” His artificial eye swung upwards as if peering through the nearly ten storeys of hewn rock to the headmaster’s quarters. For all Harry knew, Moody really could see up there!

Severus nodded, releasing the spell on the door causing it to reappear. Moody left and in a few moments, Aurors were pouring through the door, taking over the custody of Barty. He gave them directions to a holding cell down a few corridors from his office and they floated the prisoner in front of them. As they left, Minerva rushed into the room followed by Draco and the other students who immediately went to check on Harry. Minerva spared her lion a check to make sure he was all right before focusing on Severus.

“Who was that and why was he wearing Albus’ robes?” she demanded, hat askew and arms crossed.

“Crouch, Junior. He’s been impersonating Albus using Polyjuice since November. I know, I’m already beating myself up about not noticing it,” he told her when she sputtered in indignation. “Moody has gone up to the Headmaster’s office to find out where he is. Minerva...” he pulled her off to the side so the children wouldn’t overhear him. “Voldemort is back in a full body. That’s what this was all about. He used an old obscure ritual that required Harry’s blood, forcibly taken, to restore him. They duelled – and Harry won! I still haven’t processed everything I saw...”

“Is anyone safe, now?” she asked, voice trembling with raw emotion; too many things had happened today and she was beginning to feel overwhelmed.

He looked at this venerable woman who had fought in many wars, Muggle and wizard, and had seen things over the years that would have curled any sane woman’s hair. That she was worried now was telling. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “Right now, I think that you should get Pomfrey and head up to Albus’ office. Before you leave, what have they done with Lucius’ body?” he whispered.

“They took it up to the Infirmary, into a private room. Two Aurors are guarding it,” she supplied before turning on her heel and leaving.

Severus surveyed his sitting room, overflowing with teenagers nattering away. Draco had managed to snag the seat next to Harry who was sitting quietly while the others were speculating amongst themselves. Making a decision, Severus clapped his hands together once, creating the loudest CRACK anyone had ever heard. Ron even put his hands over his ears. But it got their attention quickly, which was its intention.

“Anyone not related to me, leave now. There has been enough excitement for today and we still don’t have all the answers. I believe the House-elves are setting up dinner in the common rooms. Come along,” he said, herding the group towards the door. There were token protests, and all the girls insisted on giving Harry hugs, but he eventually was able to close the door and lock it. He strode over to the Floo and unblocked it, expecting to hear from Alastor momentarily.

While waiting, he summoned a tea tray from the kitchens, recognising that his boys probably did not have much of an appetite. While waiting for it to arrive he Accio-ed his healing kit and took a look at Harry’s arm. Harry had totally forgotten about the wound that Pettigrew had made with his knife, but his dad had noticed the raw looking wound and wanted it taken care of before it festered. He sluiced water and antiseptic over it, cleaning it gently. Harry winced as the green liquid entered the open cut, but he sat there stoically letting his father place a pad of gauze soaked with mertlap and dittany over it, then murmured a sticking charm over it so it wouldn’t come loose.

“I want you to see Madame Pomfrey to make sure there is nothing else wrong,” he said while repacking his healing bag. “We’ll have her check you out in a little while.”

Harry nodded as he dug into his pocket and withdrew the emerald stud, handing it to Draco. “I duplicated it and gave the duplicated one to dad. This saved my life, Draco,” he said sincerely. Then he frowned. “It was wrong to make me give it up, don’t ever let anyone do that again! Hide it if you have to,” he said forcibly. Draco nodded, looking at the tiny gold and emerald earring. Reverently, he reattached it in his earlobe. Severus walked over and touched the tip of his black wand to the ornament. A moment later the earring disappeared from view.

“Now no one will know it is there,” Snape stated. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the two he’d had on him. Weighing each in a separate hand, he could feel the Portkey magic emanating from the one in his right hand and he handed that to Harry. “This one saved Professor Moody and me,” he said simply. Harry looked at it for a moment before curling his hand around it and throwing himself into his father’s arms.

“I almost lost you,” he murmured into the black robes. “I was so frightened... especially when we were duelling. I knew I couldn’t win against him, I was prepared to die at that moment...” He didn’t see Draco’s eyes getting bigger and bigger and his face draining of colour behind him. “And then our wands connected... I don’t understand why...”

“I may have the answer to that, Harry.” Albus stepped out of the Floo, his hair shorn short and his beard raggedy. He appeared to have lost quite a bit of weight and was leaning heavily on Alastor and Minerva as they guided him over to a Wing-backed chair. Severus released Harry to check on his employer, summoning several vials of potions that marched towards him in a line from his lab as if eager to do his bidding.

Harry took the moment to fasten his own earring back in and curled up on the sofa, knees drawn in tight to his chest. Draco sighed at his brother’s protective stance, but looked back towards the grouping of the adults.

“Yes, yes, Severus – I’m fine now, Poppy has checked me over thoroughly. Draco, could you pour me a cup of that fine tea, please? Thank you, my boy.” He accepted the cup and saucer, directing the blonde as to how many lumps of sugar to add.

“One never realises how satisfying a cup of tea is, how civilising it is, until you haven’t had it for seven months!” He took a sip, tipping his head back in sheer bliss. “Perfect!” he pronounced. He brought his head back down and levelled his gaze on Harry.

“Do you remember, Harry, what Olivander said to you when you bought your wand?”

Harry thought back to that first day in the Wizarding world and the strange little man in the wand store. Harry had been taken aback by the man’s declaration that the brother of Harry’s wand had given him his scar.

“He said that our wands shared the same core – a Phoenix feather from the same Phoenix.”

A bit of Dumbledore’s old twinkle came back to his eyes. “Correct! And can you guess which Phoenix gave those two feathers? The only two he has ever given, by the way. Very good, Draco,” he said in response to a whispered answer from the Ravenclaw. “Yes, it was Fawkes. Fascinating subject, wand-lore; in this instance, brother wands can not harm each other. When your wands connected, they essentially cancelled each other out. Tell me, did you see anything?”

Harry remembered the terrible duel and the ghosts of spells and people being regurgitated by Voldemort’s yew wand. He relayed that to his Headmaster.

“I’m sure if you had held that spell any longer you would have seen even more ghosts appear. Voldemort has done much evil with that wand since it chose him when he was eleven, and you had barely scratched the surface of the spell residue it contained. You were becoming the master of the wand, Harry. Oh, the process was not complete – you broke it off, wisely. But that is what was happening.” He took another sip of his tea before letting his eyes rest on the young boy once more.

“My mum told me to break it off; her and James...” Harry said quietly.

“A wise woman, your mother,” Albus commented. He took off his spectacles and used a bit of the cuff of his robe to wipe the lenses clean. Harry suspected the man was using it as a diversion, a means to bring his emotions under control. “I owe you and your father an apology, Harry,” he eventually said, perching the glasses back on his nose and looking over them at the nearly fifteen-year old Wizard.

“Sir?” Harry asked while his father grunted above him.

Albus glanced up at his formidable Professor of Potions. “Yes, an apology. My thought was only to test you and your abilities by placing your name in the Goblet. I needed to see if you were up to the challenge... it was arrogant of me,” he admitted.

“Arrogant?” Severus exploded. “It was unconscionable! I’ve told you time and again not to believe in Prophecy’s and you decide to test for yourself by placing my boy in mortal danger not once, but three times this term? Albus, I should bring you up on charges before the Governors!” he ranted. “You can’t continue to play God with children’s lives; it is not “For the Greater Good”.” He quoted his mentor’s favourite phrase that he loved to throw out at the members of the Order.

Dumbledore winced at the direct hit. “I am trying to apologise, Severus.”

“Not sincerely enough, Albus. I’m going to have to seriously reconsider whether or not to bring the boys back next term, much less return myself.” He glared down at the Headmaster who seemed to shrink on himself in the presence of such ire.

“What would you have me do, Severus? Harry is the key to everything...”

“He is a boy!” Minerva exploded, hanging back quietly until now. “I’m appalled at you, Albus. Deliberately putting his name in the cup, having him compete against Wizards who had three years experience on him? I don’t care how much extra training Severus has been giving him, that did not qualify him to compete against those older than him!”

“But he did survive, Minerva; he did duel against Voldemort and won! He has managed to perform brilliantly at every task set before him...”

“By sheer dumb luck, from how I hear tell of it!” She stopped as Severus raised a hand to quiet her.

“Did I just hear you correctly, Albus? What other tasks, besides the three this year, have you set Harry?” Snape’s eyes were like black beetles, waiting to burrow into Dumbledore.

“Oh, various and sundry things... Just little things, my boy,” Albus smiled, a beatific smile that usually assured Albus of cooperation by the people he bestowed it upon. In Severus’ case it never worked. He should have remembered.

“One of those wouldn’t happen to be a certain gauntlet of traps and puzzles leading to a Mirror that one young boy was already enamoured of, would it? Especially after giving this curious youngster an invisibility cloak?  Or perhaps sending said little boy into the forest for a detention? The Forbidden Forest? On a night when you knew something was attacking Unicorns and killing them for their blood. You knew what Hagrid and I thought it could be; we had warned you numerous times that week. I could name other instances over the last four years...” he halted and stared his mentor in the face. “You did, didn’t you; you’ve been deliberately placing him in situations all along to see how he would fare – see if he would be capable of fulfilling your ever-lauded prophecy. A prophecy made, may I remind you, by someone who has only foretold correctly once!” he shouted.

Dumbledore’s face lost all colour as Severus brought the accusations before him. He could feel Harry and Draco staring at him, horrified at the prospect their father painted. “It was a true telling...” he began but he was stopped by one small, terrified question.

“Did you know?” Harry whispered, his voice growing more pained as he continued. “Did you know what they were doing to me all those years?” he accused. No one needed to ask who he meant – everyone knew he meant his relatives; the ones he’d been placed with by Dumbledore all those years before.

“I – I suspected they wouldn’t love you straight off, but I thought your Aunt would learn to love you... She loved her sister so much, even wanted to come here like Lily and she was heartbroken when I told her she couldn’t attend, not being magic-born.” His rheumy eyes filled with liquid as he gazed at the son of that beloved student.

Severus snorted at that admission and the manipulation. “Jealous is what she was, not heartbroken. Absolutely green with jealousy,” he explained to the room at large.

“Did you know?” Harry repeated his question, more forcefully this time.

Albus looked down into his palsied hands, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t know they would treat you with cruelty.”

Minerva pursed her lips as Harry turned away, huddling deep into the corner of the sofa again. “Now, Albus, you’ve apologised. Don’t make it any worse. Besides, you need to rest. We have Lucius’ funeral to plan for... and oh...” She slapped a hand across her mouth as she looked from Draco’s stunned face to Severus’. “I’m sorry, I thought he knew by now...” She bustled Albus up, with Moody’s help and, with another apologetic look at the little family, Flooed him back up to the Tower.

Severus went over to sit on the coffee-table before his son.

“He’s really dead?” Draco whispered.

“Yes, son. I duelled him before I could leave to rescue Harry and he lost,” he said quietly. He placed a hand on Draco’s knee, offering him comfort. Despite all that Lucius had done to Draco over the years, he was still Draco’s sire and he knew that the boy still harboured feelings for him. “He was the one who changed the Portkey spell on the trophy so that it delivered Harry to where Voldemort was waiting.”

A cold fire burned in Draco’s eyes as he looked up at Severus. “Then I’m glad he died. He betrayed all of us.” He choked back some sobs and Harry leaned up against him, snaking an arm around his brother and resting his head on the boy’s shoulder. “Does Mother know?”

“Not yet, I’ll send her an owl in a bit. It should get there in the morning.” He turned to Harry who was unwinding Silicia from his arm, hissing quietly at her. “I hope you know what she did for you – I could see it from my vantage point.”

Harry shook his head and Draco curiously looked over at the half-grown Cobra who was curling up in front of the fire. “Mum warned me about her protecting me, but I couldn’t see what she was doing. And then there wasn’t any time for her to tell me,” he explained.

“Your mum?” Draco asked incredulously. “But she’s...”

“Dead, yeah, I know. During the duel our wands connected and these – ghosts – came out of the end of his wand when my spell overpowered his. That’s what we were talking about.  It was all the people he had killed with that wand. The last two to come out were Lily and James. And they spoke to me...” Quiet for a moment as he reflected on the messages imparted to him he turned back to his father. “What did Silicia do?”

“The Dark Lord’s pet snake, a huge Python, was inside the spell circle and making its way to you. Silicia fought her off, stunning her with a bite. Nagini is too big for Silicia to kill, but she did a lot of damage, protecting you,” Severus pointed out.

Harry smiled over at his snake, who rose up a bit to weave at him before settling back down on the warm hearth.

“Seems I owe my survival to a lot of people,” Harry said. “I don’t know how I can thank them all...”

“Stay alive, son.” Harry looked up at father, surprised. “I’m serious. As long as you stay alive, and don’t let the bastards in this world take you down, that is the best thanks you can give.”

“I’ll try,” Harry said, simply.

“That’s all we can ask.” He walked over to his desk to pen a quick missive to Narcissa. “When I get done, I’m going to drop you off at the infirmary to have Poppy give you a thorough looking over while I post this letter. Draco, your father is up there if you wish to take your leave of him,” he kindly offered.

Draco was of two minds. On the one hand, he wanted to go and spit on the corpse, and on the other he wanted nothing to do with the body. It was dead, out of his life. He knew he would most likely have to attend the funeral that his mother would have to set up; despite being disowned, he was still a Malfoy by blood and the proper forms must be observed. He’d had that drilled into him for far too long not to obey.

“I’ll stay here, Dad. I’ll see him at the funeral,” he firmly decided.

“Very well.” Blotting the ink, he folded the announcement and sealed it with wax, setting his own Prince emblem into the cooling circle with his signet ring. It automatically set a magical trace into the seal which would verify to Narcissa that this was a true sending from him. “We should be back within the hour.” He watched as Onyx, Draco’s fully grown cat, sauntered in and hopped up into his master’s lap, settling in like the spoiled pet that he was. Draco obliged with a scratch between the ears, moving to under the chin – the cat closing his eyes and purring his contentment.

Harry reluctantly rose from the sofa and joined his father at the door. “Erm, can you hide my earring...” He motioned to the emerald now glinting in his ear, back where it belonged.

“Of course,” Severus agreed and matched word with deed, tapping his wand lightly on the Portkey, rendering it invisible to the naked eye. Moody’s magical one would detect it in a second. “And you might want this back, as well. It is a fine bit of transfiguration work – wandless at that!” He handed Harry the fake earring.

“Thanks. I think I know exactly what I’ll do with it.” Pointing his own wand at the little gold stud, Harry fashioned a clasp that it hung from. “For Pansy’s bracelet,” he explained. “To commemorate surviving the task.”

He pocketed the gift and followed his father through the door, off to face the female dragon of the infirmary.

 

 

 

 

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