The Hospital wing was surprisingly busy when they arrived, even with Professor McGonagall having rushed away again to find the other head’s of house once she had delivered her charges safely. Madame Pomfrey appeared out of nowhere and bustled over to guide Harry and Snape into adjacent beds. She took over control of Mr Crouch’s stretcher and transferred him onto a cot, beginning to assess him first.

 Snape sat against the headboard of his cot, legs straight out in front of him, and boots staining the clean sheets (to Pomfrey’s distant disapproval).

Harry was engulfed in a cloud of bushy, brown hair almost as soon as he had sat on the edge of his cot. He dropped the crumpled golden feather onto the sheets next to him, lifting his hand to pat his friend awkwardly on the shoulder.

“Hullo, Hermione.” She retreated after a moment and danced awkwardly in the space between the two beds, glancing over at another on the other side of the room. Harry glanced in the same direction to see Ron sitting on one, cross-legged, shaking his head like a dog every twenty seconds.

“He’s been like that for over an hour,” Hermione said, concerned. “Madame Pomfrey was just brewing a Wit-sharpening Potion when Cedric arrived with an asthma attack.

“Asthma?”

Harry spun around to see Cedric Diggory sitting in a chair nearby, looking dusty and a little sheepish.

“Good to see you back, Harry. And Professor Snape.” He said, coughing “That pellet thing of McGonagall’s worked really well, it’s just a shame I breathed in half the dust when you three vanished.”

Snape looked unimpressed when Harry glanced back at him, he had folded his arms in a dangerous way, but he responded nicely enough.

“You have my thanks, Mr Diggory. You performed admirably earlier. I trust in future you will always take your Adampliare into battles?”

“Of course, Sir.” Cedric grimaced between coughs. “Madame Pomfrey already read me the riot act. I think I need a second dose though.” He reached into his robes and fished out his wand and took a tiny vial of blue potion off the table beside him.

He used the wand to vaporise the potion into a cloud of yellow droplets and breathed them in. After a long moment, he coughed up what looked like a tiny round pebble and looked to be better. Hermione watched all of this with wide eyes, and Harry thought despairingly about the hours she was going to spend in the library trying to find out about all of that.

Pomfrey returned to the ward from her store cupboard, and gave a pile of clean robes each to Harry and Snape, conjuring privacy screens for each of them, muttering about everyone turning up at once. Before the screens closed, Harry chuckled as he saw Snape charmed his from a deep maroon to black. Harry put on his set of student robes without complaint, glad to get out of his own dusty, scorched and slightly blooded set.

Pulling aside his own screens, Harry saw the school nurse bring a still steaming potion over to Ron, who was coaxed into drinking it by Hermione. Ron shook his head one last time, before slouching down, seemingly exhausted.

“Mr Weasley, How are you feeling?” Pomfrey asked, lifting his head gently by the chin to look him over. She lit the end of her wand like an electric torch and used it to examine the boy’s pupils.

“Tired.” Ron slurred, “Like I’ve been bludgered.”

“Well, that’s a lot better.” Pomfrey said. “You just stay here for a few hours and get some sleep and you’ll be right as rain.” She bustled back over to Crouch, who was still unconscious.

There was a whoosh and the clattering sound of the floo from Pomfrey’s office which diverted everyone’s attention. Harry could see straight through to her desk from his bed and was surprised to see another of those golden feathers sitting there. Maybe Dumbledore had alerted all of the Professors of their return? Harry stuffed the feather by his side into his robe pockets, he wanted to keep it.

A moment later the headmaster himself emerged from the office, followed by the Slytherin 6th year prefects, who had their wands drawn and looked totally relieved to see Snape on his bed, whole and well. They smiled at Harry too, to the surprise of Ron and Hermione who hadn’t seen him getting along with any of the Slytherins.

“Severus! Harry, my boy!” Dumbledore strode over to them and looking them over before conjuring a chair for himself. “You are both quite well?”

“Fine Headmaster.” Snape said, obviously ignoring the blood that was still dripping down his cheek and through his sleeve. Madame Pomfrey looked horrified that she hadn’t done anything about that yet and healed the man’s face in an instant, rolling up his sleeve to deal with his arm. Snape ignored her, in favour of trying to speak to Dumbledore.

“We must speak urgently, Headmaster, but first I require a word with Mr Blackfort and Miss Hocking. Potter, can you stand?”

Harry responded by jumping straight off his bed, eager to get out of the hospital before Pomfrey found some excuse to keep him there. She glared at him from Snape’s bedside, using her wand to attach a bandage which was firmer than was strictly necessary to the potions professor’s arm.

Snape extracted himself from Pomfrey’s grip and took Harry by the arm. Snape grabbed hold of Blackfort on the way past, trusting Hocking to follow them into the supply cupboard.

Hocking closed the door behind them, and Snape gave a surprised laugh, as he found both prefects’ wands pointed in his direction. Harry gaped at them both.

“A clever move, Hocking, but you might consider that if I were being impersonated, it would make much more sense for the more dangerous person to impersonate Potter.”

Both prefects sent a concerned glance in Harry’s direction, but relaxed when they saw him gaping in confusion as usual.

“Besides, the Headmaster would have realised in an instant if someone were to impersonate a memb…” He broke off, “Nevermind. You did well to be vigilant, how is the house?”

Blackfort rubbed at the back of his neck, thinking. “Everyone in Slytherin is fine,” He started, “We shut the common room to stop everyone leaving, and then Fowley showed up outside the door asking if we’d seen Potter. That would have been fine if Fowley hadn’t also been fighting with someone over gobstones, right behind us. They got quite a shock when the Head Girl and Clarence started asking them security questions at wand-point.”

Hocking took over, “The Fowley inside the house got the questions right, so we told the other one to leave - up past your office, like you said, but we watched them go the other way.”

Blackfort pulled a face, “After that we made sure no-one came in or out, until the Headmaster appeared through the Floo. He did have to put up a Protego when he arrived, but he doesn’t seem too annoyed about it, Sir.”

Snape nodded, relieved. “Well done, I knew I could rely on you. The younger students were not too much hassle?”

“We put Malfoy under watch because he was being irritating, and the Head Girl stuck Fowley to a chair because they kept picking fights.” Hocking smirked. “But everyone else was fine.”

“So our Fowley was under Polyjuice then?” Harry checked with Snape, “But I thought that it was Mr Crouch? But then he showed up. So who-?”

“We will discuss that with the Headmaster presently, Potter. Hocking, Blackfort, well done, I will discuss your reward with the Headmaster after we have dealt with the current situation. Be assured I will be informing your guardians.”

The prefects shared a look, and Blackfort rubbed at his neck again. He pulled a face, but then Hocking kicked him in the ankle and he sighed.

“Professor, I appreciate the thought, but uh..” He glanced at Harry, who was watching him carefully. The older boy consciously stood taller and relaxed his posture. “You won’t mention Potter in this letter, Sir? And it will be you who sends it?”

“As you wish, Mr Blackfort.” Snape paused, “Miss Hocking, you anticipate no such issues on your part?”

“I shouldn’t think so, Sir.”

“Good.” Snape nodded towards the door, prompting Harry to open it. “I would be grateful if you would convince the Slytherins to stand down their barricade, and then account for all students who did not return to the common room.”

“Of course, Sir.”

The Slytherins marched back through to Pomfrey’s office, not keen to linger. Snape led Harry over to Dumbledore, who was examining Crouch alongside the matron. As Pomfrey waved her wand, a fine mist appeared from Crouch’s scalp, like a sudden expulsion of dandruff.

Dumbledore’s eyes closed briefly, sadly. “The imperius,” he said.

“For months.” Snape added, “If not longer. No wonder-“

“But why Barty?” Dumbledore shook his head, confused. “If he was impersonating Alastor, then who was Barty at the ministry? And how have they surpassed the precautions there?”

“I believe Mr Crouch was himself, Headmaster. It might be best if we held this conversation elsewhere?”

“I would not advise waking this man until morning, Headmaster.” Pomfrey said, fussing with a paintbrush to draw a rune on Crouch’s forehead. “For now, he will not awaken without magical intervention. He needs time to sleep.”

Dumbledore nodded, “Then we will return to my office, I will have Minerva meet us there. Perhaps Harry should-“

“Potter needs to come with us.” Snape said, putting a hand on Harry’s elbow. “We have some things to clear up, and I am uncomfortable leaving him unattended, or alone with my house for the time being.”

The headmaster frowned at this, but did not object. “I will meet you in my office, with Professor McGonagall. She should be finished filling in Filius and Pomona with the urgent details by now.”

“Of course, Headmaster.”

Dumbledore left in a billowing of robes. Snape started muttering about not being able to use Floo travel, and led Harry from the hospital wing, away from the simmering carnage of many filled beds.

Once out of the infirmary, Snape dropped Harry’s arm and they walked in a companionable silence- for once Snape deigned to match his pace to Harry’s.

Harry was starting to wish that today could just be over. To think- tomorrow was finally Monday, he only had one more night until he was stuck neither to Snape or the Slytherin dungeons. Harry wondered if he could persuade the Gryffindor quidditch team to play a game of pick-up quidditch. Or maybe Malfoy would take him up on that race they had spoken about in the common room?

Harry blinked. But what about Voldemort? If Pettigrew was to be believed then You-Know-Who had been in that house tonight. His followers had been there. Harry was well aware that he had been totally unprepared for that interaction. He would have been no match for even Peter Pettigrew, a wizard who Harry held in extremely low esteem. Perhaps Harry should start seriously training – if Voldemort and his people were going to keep coming after him.

And Harry absolutely had to find out about that magic that had shown him his parents. It almost wouldn’t matter if they had been false visions, or a trick by Voldemort. Harry had seen them, and they had been proud of him, and they had… forgiven Snape? What the hell was that about?

Harry looked up curiously at the man walking ever so slightly ahead of him. He looked not unfriendly for Severus Snape, but didn’t look open to questions either. Perhaps it would be for the best if Harry reigned in his curiosity until they were in front of Dumbledore. Then again, Dumbledore hadn’t even wanted Harry to be at this meeting.

Once again, they found themselves in Dumbledore’s office, gathered around the same table they had plotted around earlier. Harry was slouched in a chair, grouchy and exhausted, as Snape stood in front of him and told the story to the other teachers. Dumbledore remained mostly silent for the explanation, although he did look very interested at the mention of the giant snake. Flitwick and Sprout had a few points to clarify as they went along.

“How did you decide to leave the Fowley child?”

“Mr Crouch arrived? But Professor McGonagall informed us he had been spotted in Hogwarts this afternoon.”

Snape described Legilimensing Fowley- Harry supposed this was some kind of mind reading from the context. It made Harry remember all of the times he had felt in class, or in detention, that Snape was looking slightly too deeply into his eyes, or knew slightly more than he should have done. Harry resolved to research whatever that was as soon as possible. Or perhaps to just set Hermione on it.

“In essence, I discovered that Fowley was not Fowley. I withdrew from the spell,” Snape said, “To find Potter and Pettigrew had… risen into the air, connected by a vast golden web. There were shadows of spells and…”

“Priori incantatem.” Dumbledore said quietly, eyes aflame with undisguised interest. “But it is so unusual an occurrence, and between unrelated wands-”

“I don’t think it was Pettigrew’s wand, Professor.” Harry said. Almost the first words he had spoken since arriving in the office.

“Harry?”

“If… If it’s shadows of spells that were appearing, then I’m pretty sure it was Voldemort’s wand.” Dumbledore’s eyes softened a little.

“And the wands are brothers, of course. Both contain phoenix tail feather wands. Both from Fawkes, Harry – I do not know if you were aware of this. Mister Ollivander contacted me as soon as you left his shop.”

Harry’s head spun involuntarily, to look at Fawkes on his perch, the bird’s feathers looked a bit more ruffled than usual, as if some were missing. But Dumbledore hadn’t stopped.

“You saw your parents tonight, Harry, if we are not mistaken.”

Harry swallowed heavily, trying to ignore the shocked gasps and stunned faces of the other professors. “Yes, Sir.”

“Could they- did they speak with you?”

“Yes. They talked about how I looked.” Harry swallowed again. His eyes burned a little, and he willed himself not to cry, not now. “I mean, they told me what to do. That we had to take Mr Crouch. Then Snape woke up and…” Harry trailed off, not sure if he should say anything about Snape in front of everyone that was there.

“They told me not to go back to Him.” Snape finished, eyes fixed on Dumbledore, but with the tiniest flicker towards McGonagall.

Dumbledore was nodding, slowly, clearly deep in thought. McGonagall looked stricken by this turn of events. Obviously, advice from people’s long dead family wasn’t a common occurrence in the wizarding world. Harry choked out a sort of half desperate laugh, and Snape turned to look at him with concern.

“What happened after this?” Dumbledore asked. “My apologies, Harry. We will do our best to be brief, and then I believe you should make your way to bed. It has been a long day for you, my boy, and you have performed admirably, better than many full-grown wizards would have done in your shoes.”

Harry nodded, sitting back in his chair and wishing they could just hurry up, so he could go to bed. Although Harry was sure he wouldn’t sleep too soundly. Nightmares about Voldemort were never far from Harry’s mind, and Harry felt sure he would be visited by them again tonight.

“Mr Potter broke the spell, and we escaped, using Fowley’s ring, which as we have deduced was the portkey to transport us in the first place. I believe there were Death Eaters summoned as we left. There were footsteps on the stairs. Not all His followers. Three, or four at the most.”

“As we have discovered, Mr Crouch has been held under the Imperius curse for some time. It is fortunate he was rendered unconscious while under the spell, else we would have never been able to prove that was the case.” Dumbledore tapped the desk in front of him, thinking.

“Severus, you had a theory about how our Mr Crouch could be in two places at the same time?”

“Yes, Headmaster.” Snape said, “You remember the great scandal of Mr Crouch’s career. The reason he never became Minister for Magic?”

“I believe the fulminant moment was the arrest of his son.” Dumbledore nodded. “I was present at the trial, in fact.”

“What if Crouch’s son escaped?” Snape asked, eyes flickering between his colleagues. “An escape from Azkaban is possible, as we all know.”

Eyes flickered to Harry now, as all of them thought of Sirius Black.

“The son was said to die in Azkaban.” Snape continued, “As popular rumour goes, this was the only visit made to him, and then the mother passed away shortly afterwards. A very quiet funeral for such a well-known witch. There is the potential for a bait and switch there. We shall have to ask his father when he awakens.”

Dumbledore nodded slowly, “You have put a great deal of thought into this Severus. I have to admit the same conclusion had started to appear in my mind. But that means that Barty must have kept his son under house arrest all of these years.”

“Why was he in Azkaban?” Harry asked suddenly. “What did he do?”

All eyes went to Harry. Sprout and Flitwick shared a concerned look, that Harry didn’t miss.

“It is not really relevant, Mr Potter.” McGonagall said, carefully. “He was proved a death eater, sentenced by his father, alongside other death eaters.”

“He was arrested for the use of the Cruciatus curse, Harry.” Dumbledore said after a moment.

“Albus-“ There was a note of warning in McGonagall’s voice, but Dumbledore held up a dismissive hand.

“Extended use of the curse on some very fine aurors. He helped to torture them into insanity.”

Harry blinked slowly. He had thought for a minute that Crouch might be innocent, as Sirius had been, and had been imagining the years in Azkaban, the loss of his mother, and the many years after that, presumably a prisoner in his own house.

“So what was he doing at Hogwarts? And how did he get here?”

“I have had my suspicions for a very long time.” Dumbledore said.

Snape snorted scornfully.

“Aided, of course by observations from the Staff,” Dumbledore added archly, “That Alastor Moody has been acting oddly.”

Dumbledore shot a challenging glance at Snape who did not make a noise this time, but nonetheless looked like he very much wanted to.

“Differently to his usual self, at any rate. I think we must accept the probability that Barty Crouch – the son- has been masquerading as Professor Moody for weeks, most likely since the start of term. If that is the case, I believe that Alastor must be within the school grounds.”

Harry frowned, unsure as to how this conclusion had been reached.

“Polyjuice Potion ingredients, those which originate from a human source, degrade. They must be harvested the same week which the potion is to be imbibed. For such large quantities of Polyjuice, the ingredients would need to be harvested every few days.” Snape had started explaining, for the benefit of Harry, Flitwick, and McGonagall, who all looked a little lost. “As Moody has not been leaving school this frequently, it is likely that he has been keeping the source readily available. In his office or quarters.”

“Alastor, unfortunately was likely an easy man to imitate. His penchant for drinking only from his flask, his well known dislike of Professor Snape, and his general demeanour making it simpler for Mr Crouch to go about his business at Hogwarts.”

“Which was what, exactly?” McGonagall asked.

“It is impossible to know for certain without having him with us.” Dumbledore said.

“Actually, no.” Snape said silkily.

“No?” Dumbledore seemed a little thrown.

“You forget, headmaster, that I utilised Legilimency. It was not so easy to determine who the man was, he had a little Occlumency knowledge, although no expertise by any measure. I was only able to see flashes of the past.”

Harry frowned, another word he didn’t recognise.

“I was able, however, to see an outline of his plan. He was rather proud of it – wanted to show off. It was ludicrously elaborate.” Snape sneered. “His intention, was to trick the Goblet of Fire into accepting Potter’s name as champion for the Triwizard tournament. He intended to aid Potter through this tournament, having him win. Then, as winner, taking the Triwizard cup – enchanted to be a portkey, to transport him to the resurrection of the Dark Lord.”

Harry blinked rapidly, trying to take all of this in. “That’s insane.” He said.

Even Dumbledore looked puzzled, “Quite mad.”

“So then Fowley-“

“The Fowley we saw was obviously a polyjuice replica. Crouch probably obtained the hair when Fowley had a detention with them yesterday. They did not have Fowley’s wand, mannerisms, nor spell repertoire. A poor imitation, really, but effective in preventing the first volley of spells, and to throw us off balance.”

“And Fowley’s really in your common room.” Harry said, glad that this finally made sense.

“Yes, quite safe.” Snape nodded.

One of the portraits on the wall coughed to get their attention, and Dumbledore turned to it.

“Yes, Basil?”

The grey haired old wizard in the portrait puffed out his chest importantly. “Dumbledore, a young lady and gentleman are heading this way. They sound rather agitated. They were here earlier today?”

“Ron and Hermione?” Harry asked, looking to Snape for confirmation, the man was busy though, looking elsewhere.

Harry heard the grinding noise of the gargoyle from to corridor and the door to the office was thrown open by Ron Weasley, pulling along a frazzled looking Hermione.

“Professors, we have to save Professor Moody.”

The staff all blinked at Ron, unmoving.

“Mr Weasley…” McGonagall started, then stopped, looking to Dumbledore for advice.

“What can you tell us, Mr Weasley?” Dumbledore asked gently.

“I’m a bit fuzzy still, sir.” Ron said. “I feel a bit drunk to be honest. Err-” He cut off, remembering that he was 14, and that he actually shouldn’t know what it felt like to be drunk.

“Um, well, we went to see Professor Moody in his office, because I kept floating away- I think someone spiked my pumpkin juice- and we thought he would be able to reverse it. And I sort’ve went barging through the door, I suppose, because I gave him a fright. I made him jump and he dropped a vial of potion. It went everywhere – smelled awful too. His face started bubbling, like there were bugs under his skin.” Ron shuddered, “I knew it was Polyjuice sir, there’s no forgetting that smell. Or the skin thing, ugh.”

“Of course, he didn’t know I knew, so he rushed started messing with all these little bottles, and shouted at me to get out. And I er, didn’t.” Ron glanced up at Dumbledore a little guiltily.

“Curiosity is not a sin, Mr Weasley, although it is often wise to exercise caution.” Dumbledore said mildly. Snape made a small noise, but Harry doubted anyone else heard.

“And he tried to curse me, but he missed, because he wouldn’t look at me. And then he grabbed a load of hair off his desk and put it in the bottle, and drank the whole lot.” Ron scratched his head, looking a little self-conscious with all of the senior staff staring at him. “He hit me with a spell then- the confundus, I reckon. I think he just took me out to the classroom again.”

“We are aware that Moody was not who we though him to be, Weasley.” Snape said. Ron turned to look at the Professor, apprehensively. He looked pretty shaky and Harry hoped Snape wasn’t going to be mean to his friend. “Did you see anything that might help us with the real Moody? You had some interesting thoughts when you were here earlier.”

Ron paled, “I was here earlier? I must’ve been worse than I thought…”

Harry frowned, “You said some stuff earlier, Ron. About bins and-”

“I don’t know about bins, Harry.” Ron said, “But his trunk was wide open. And all the dark detectors were going nuts.”

Dumbledore stood abruptly from his chair. “Thank you, Mr Weasley. Alastor’s trunk would be the perfect place to store something one were trying to hide. And I would not be surprised were we becoming a greater threat in the scope of a foe glass.”

The headmaster gathered his robes about him. “Minerva, and-“ Here he looked from Snape to Harry, and back to Snape. “Filius. If you would accompany me. Miss Granger, and Mister Weasley should perhaps return to the Hospital Wing.”

Those people filed out in a flurry of activity, leaving an odd quiet behind them. Harry slouched into his seat. Frustrated, but also slightly relieved to be left out of this last task of the evening.

“Well, that puts the Pixie amongst the Tentacula, doesn’t it?”

Harry jumped a little as Professor Sprout addressed Snape unexpectedly.

“So you are telling us He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned?” Professor Sprout asked. “At least, that was what I gathered from Albus’s message.” She pulled a long, golden feather from her robes.

Harry thought of the phoenix feather in his pocket, he wondered just how many people Dumbledore had sent that message to.

Snape took a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh. “It appears likely.” He said. “Not yet. But soon.”

Sprout closed her eyes, and Harry wasn’t sure if she might be about to cry. After thirty long seconds, her eyes opened again, and Harry saw the resolve there.

“Well then. Hufflepuff House will be ready to support its own.” She looked around at Harry, collapsed in his chair, and Snape, who was starting to bleed through his bandages. “And those who seek our aid.”

Snape stood a little straighter. “Gratitude to your house. To the extent of my abilities, I wish the same upon your house.”

Snape nudged Harry, who was gawping.

Harry blinked quickly, thinking fast. “The same upon your house?”

Sprout bowed her head to both of them. “My thanks, gentlemen. If you would excuse me, I must speak with my students.” She tucked her wand away inside a robe pocket, and left them together.

Snape turned back to Harry. “You are useful for the forming of both allies, and enemies, Mr Potter.”

“It’s a bad habit.” Harry replied grumpily.  

“I imagine it will take longer than we have available to cure you of that.”

Snape checked a watch from his pocket. “I think maybe we  should look for an early dinner. My office is likely the quietest- does that suit you?”

Harry nodded, tiredly. Ron and Hermione had gone back to the Hospital Wing anyway. All Harry really wanted was some food and a bed for the night.