Harry awoke quite warm and still very sleepy; so much that he didn’t open his eyes.  He heard whispering around him and recognized Hermione’s voice.

“They’re going to wake him if they don’t shut up!”

“What are they shouting about?  Nothing else can have happened, can it?”

That was Mrs. Weasley.

Harry opened his eyes to a slit and peered around.  Mrs. Weasley and Hermione sat between his bed and Niamh’s.  Bill was standing by the door and looking out into the hall.

“That’s Fudge’s voice,” breathed Mrs. Weasley.  “And Minerva.  What would they be arguing about?”

Harry could hear them, their voices getting louder as they approached the hospital wing.

“It is regrettable, Minerva, but all the same…”  That was Fudge.

“You should never have brought it in the castle!  When Dumbledore finds out - ”

The hospital doors came open and Bill had to jump back to avoid being hit as Fudge strode into the ward, McGonagall at his heels.

“Where’s Dumbledore?” snapped Fudge when he saw Mrs. Wesley.

“Not here,” replied Mrs. Weasley.  “This is a hospital wing, Minister, not a circus.”

“How are - ”

The doors opened again and Dumbledore strode in, a huge shaggy black dog and Mika at his heels.  The dog immediately ran over to Harry’s bed.  Mika, on the other hand, saw the sleeping Moody further down the ward and hurriedly pressed past Fudge and McGonagall.

Dumbledore then swept his eyes over the two and said, “Why are you disturbing these people?  Minerva – I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch - ”

“There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Albus!  The Minister has seen to that!”

Well, thought Harry.  McGonagall does care about something besides her precious Gryffindors.

Snape entered the wing then, face stark white and his thin lips drawn in a tight line.  Just as he entered, Dumbledore demanded, “What happened?”

“The Minister,” sneered Snape, “felt his personal safety was in question.  He insisted on bringing a dementor to accompany him into the castle.”

“I told him you would no agree, Albus!” snapped McGonagall.  “But that stubborn fool - ”

“I beg your pardon, madam!” roared Fudge.  “As Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish protection with me when interviewing a dangerous - ”

“Not when that protection kills the person!” shrieked McGonagall.

“Calm yourself, Minerva,” said Dumbledore as Harry remembered the last thing Crouch would have seen: that gray, leathery face with its open-hole of a mouth…  Now Crouch was worse than dead.

“He is no loss to the world,” snapped Fudge.

“But now he cannot tell us why he did what he did,” said Snape.

“Because he was a raving lunatic, that’s why!  He thought You-Know-Who was giving him orders!”

“Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius,” said Dumbledore.  “All the deaths caused by Crouch were by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again.  I succeeded – Voldemort had been restored to his body.”

Fudge looked like he’d just been hit with a ton of bricks.  He stared at Dumbledore as if the old wizard had grown a second head.

“You-Know-Who…come now, Dumbledore…”

“I am sure Severus doubtless told you that we heard the very thing from Crouch’s lips.  Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban and how Voldemort – using information taken from Bertha Jorkins – freed him from his father and used him to capture Harry.  I tell you again, Cornelius, Voldemort has returned.”

“Dumbledore,” said Fudge with a vague smile, “you can’t seriously believe that.  You-Know-Who back?  Certainly Crouch may have believed he was acting on You-Know-Who’s orders – but to take the word of a lunatic…”

“We have Harry’s word as well,” said Snape darkly.

Fudge looked at Dumbledore sharply and said, “You are prepared to take Harry’s word on this, Dumbledore?”

“Indubitably.  The story we heard from Crouch and what Harry had told me of what happened after the Triwizard Cup transported him to Voldemort coincide with all that had happened since Bertha Jorkins disappearance.”

“So…you are prepared to take the word of a lunatic murder and a boy – a Slytherin – who…well…”

“You’ve been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge,” said Harry darkly.  Around him Hermione, Bill, Ron (who was on the other side of the bed), Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny (who was at the end of the bed) all jumped.  Sirius barked and Harry reached down to pat his head.

Fudge look abashed for only a half-second before his face set stubbornly.

“And if I have?  I’ve discovered there are certain – facts – kept quiet.  A Parselmouth, eh?  Quite well versed in hexes too so I hear.  And having turns all over the place…”

“I presume you are referring to the pains Harry had had in his scar?” said Dumbledore.

“You admit he’s been having them?  Headaches?  Nightmares?  Hallucinations?”

“Cornelius,” said Dumbledore.  “Harry is as sane as you or I.  That scar has no addled his brains; it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by or feeling particularly murderous.”

“Never heard of a curse scar functioning as an alarm bell…”

“Voldemort’s back!” snapped Harry, far to irritated with Fudge to stay quiet any longer.  “I saw him!  I saw the Death Eaters!  They killed Cedric!  Open your eyes!”

Fudge looked at him for a moment, an odd expression on his face then turned to Dumbledore.

“The boy was full of a crackpot story last year – now here’s another.  He can talk to snakes and you trust him?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” snapped Ginny, quickly silenced as Mrs. Weasley clamped a hand over her daughter’s mouth.

“Voldemort has returned,” repeated Dumbledore.  “If you accept that and take necessary precautions, we may be able to prevent what almost happened thirteen years ago.  The first thing you should do is remove the dementors from Azkaban.”

“Preposterous!” shouted Fudge and Harry saw that the man was point-blank refusing to believe anything they said.  He probably wouldn’t have believe it if Merlin himself had appeared and said it.

Fudge continued, “Remove the dementors?  I’d be kicked out of office!  Half of us only feet safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!”

“The rest of us sleep less soundly know you have put Lord Voldemort’s most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures that will join him the instant he asks!  They will not remain loyal to you when he can offer them much more scope for their powers and pleasures!  With the dementors and his old supporters behind him, you’ll find it hard to stop him!”

Fudge simply gaped at Dumbledore in outrage.

“You should also send envoys to the giants,” said Dumbledore.

“Are you mad?” shrieked Fudge.  “If the magical community got wind o me send envoys to the giants – my career would end - ”

“You are blinded by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius,” said Dumbledore, his voice rising and his eyes blazing.  “You fail to see that it does not matter how a person is born, but what they come to be!  Your dementor has just destroyed the last member of a pureblood family as old as any – see what that man chose to make of his life!  Take my suggestions and, in office or out, you will be remembered as one of the greatest Ministers of Magic of all time.  Fail to act – and you will be remembered as the man who allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried so hard to rebuild!”

“Insane,” whispered Fudge.  “Batty…”

“You’re the batty one, you old coot,” snarled Harry in Elven, fixing the stubborn little man with a venomous glare.  Mrs. Weasley turned her head at the sound of the unfamiliar words.  When she saw his look, she placed a hand on his shoulder, leaned down, and whispered in his ear, “Don’t worry, dear.  Severus may make him believe.  And even if not, we can’t hex him.”  She leaned back and Harry distinctly heard her mutter, “No matter how good it would feel.”

“If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius, we have reached a parting of the ways.  You must act as you see fit.”  Dumbledore paused then continued, “And I shall act as I see fit.”

“Now see here, Dumbledore,” said Fudge, his voice bristling with anger.  “I’ve given you free rein, always.  I’ve had a lot of respect for you.  And there aren’t many who’d have let you fire werewolves or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach to your students without reference to the Ministry.  But if you work again me - ”

“I work again no one but Lord Voldemort.  If you are again him then we remain on the same side.”

Fudge simply stared at Dumbledore after that.  Then he shook his head and muttered, “He can’t be back, Albus, he just can’t…”

Severus looked across the room then, locking eyes with his son. His eyes then slid to Mrs. Weasley, who nodded.  The black orbs slid back to Harry then he turned, striding towards Fudge, rolling up the left sleeve of his robes.  He stuck out his forearm and Fudge recoiled.

“There,” growled Severus.  “The Dark Mark.  It’s not a clear as it was an hour ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had to sign burned into him by the Dark Lord.  It was a means of distinguishing one another and his means of summoning us to him.  When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate and Apparate, instantly, to his side.  It has been growing clearer all year.  Karkaroff’s too.  He fled tonight when we both felt the Mark burn and knew he had returned.  Karkaroff betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be welcomed back.”

Fudge appeared to not have heard a word the Potions Master had said.  He simply started at the Dark Mark then look at Dumbledore.

“I don’t know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I’ve heard enough.  I will be in touch with you tomorrow to discuss the running of this school.  I must return to the Ministry.”

He turned, started to leave, then approached Harry’s bed.  Taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and placing it at the end of the bed near Ginny, he said shortly, “Your winnings,” then turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Dumbledore turned to those gathered around Harry’s bed.

“There is work to be done,” he said.  “I hope I can count on you and Arthur, Molly.”

“Of course,” said Mrs. Weasley.  “We know what Fudge is.  Only Arthur’s fondness for Muggle’s has held him back in the Ministry all these years.  Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride.”

“Then I need to send a message to Arthur.  All those that we can persuade of the truth must be contracted and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry.”

“I’ll go to Dad,” said Bill.

“Excellent,” said Dumbledore.  “Tell him what had happened and that I will soon be in contact with him.  He will need to be discreet, however.”

Bill nodded.  “I’ll take care of it.”

He kissed his mother of the cheek, clapped Harry on the shoulder, and ruffled Ginny’s hair as he slung his cloak about his shoulder and strode out of the room.

Dumbledore then turned to McGonagall and said, “Minerva, I want to see Hagrid in my off as soon as possible. And if she will come – Madame Maxime.”

McGonagall simply nodded and left.

“Poppy,” said Dumbledore, “if you would kindly go down to Professor Moody’s office where you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress?  Do what you can for get then take her back to the kitchens.  Dobby, I believe, will look after her for us.”

“Of course, Albus,” and she left as well.

As soon as she was gone, Dumbledore turned to Severus and asked, “Did you reach Calissa?”

Severus nodded.

“She had broken the Imperius and was just about to come here to warn you.  It took me some time to calm her – for she was worried for her son – but she is coming.  By broom, as you know she loathes Apparating.”

Dumbledore nodded then looked at the shaggy black dog now sitting by Ginny at the foot of the bed.

“Sirius…if you would.”

The black dog looked at him then was quite suddenly a man standing at the end of the bed.

“Sirius Black!” hissed Mrs. Weasley, reaching for her wand.  Ginny leapt up and stood in front of Sirius, arms spread wide.

“No, Mum!  He’s okay!”

Mrs. Weasley frowned and looked at Severus, who nodded and said, “Much as I loathe to admit it, he is, Molly.”

Mrs. Weasley eyed Sirius then thrust her wand back into her robes.  She crossed her arms and growled at him, “You try anything, and I’ll fix your feet to your ears and your hands to your knees then dump you in a river.”

Sirius looked at her for a moment, obviously quite certain she would carry out this threat, and said, “I assure you, Molly, I don’t want to do anything to harm Harry.”

Dumbledore coughed and looked between Sirius and Severus.

“I hope the two of you have resolved your differences?”

The two men eyed each other and Sirius growled, “Partially.”

“Indeed,” agreed Severus, black eyes glinting.  Harry eyed his father and godfather darkly at this exchange.

Dumbledore nodded and said, “That will settle for now.  I have jobs for both of you.  Sirius, I need to you alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher – the old crowd.  Lie low at Lupin’s for a while; I’ll contact you there.”

“Sirius,” said Harry.  He had a feeling that now his godfather was even more danger now than ever before.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” said Sirius, flashing a wry grin at him.  “I’ll be in touch.”

“Just be careful,” said Harry.

Sirius clasped Harry’s shoulder then transformed into the black dog and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw.  Then he was gone.

“Severus,” said Dumbledore, “you know what I must ask you to do…”

“No!” said Harry, heart leaping in his chest.  “You can’t!”

“Harry!” said Severus sharply, glancing at Molly who smiled warmly at him.

“Severus, you don’t have to hide it from me.  I’ve knew who Harry’s father really was the moment I saw him.”  She chuckled and continued; “I knew you and James Potter from eleven to seventeen and you beyond that.  There is a great difference between the both of you and I, of all people, know that difference.”

Ginny, Ron, and Hermione all gaped at Mrs. Weasley while Harry simply laughed silently and Dumbledore looked amused.  Severus could only shake his head and smile.

“Gods, Molly, you are a Slytherin.”  He then looked at Harry and said, “Why no?”

Harry sobered immediately.

“Where are you going?  Back to spy?”

Severus looked at Dumbledore then nodded slowly.

“You can’t.  He knows.  He’ll kill you.”

“Harry,” said Severus, moving over to stand beside his son’s bed, “sometimes you have to take risks.”

“Then let someone else!” yelled Harry.  “I don’t want to lose you to the same monster that took Mum!”

Severus took his son by the shoulders and shook him slightly.

“We have to know what he’s doing.  We have to, Harry.  None of the other spy’s remain in the circle.  I have to go.”

Harry shook his head, fists clenched on the blanket covering him, then looked up at his father, eyes flashing.  He hissed, “You’d better come back.”

Severus squeezed Harry’s shoulders reassuringly then pulled him into a hug.  When he pulled back, he turned to Dumbledore and said, “I’m ready, Albus.”

“Then good luck,” said Dumbledore.  Severus nodded to him and to his students, squeezed his son’s hand and Mrs. Weasley’s as she looked anxiously at him then strode out.  Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley watched him go with apprehension on their faces; Harry felt just like he had when Tyls had been killed.

“I must go downstairs,” said Dumbledore after a few minutes of silence.  “I must see the Diggorys.  Harry – take the rest of your potion and don’t worry about Severus.  I will see all of you later.”

With that he was gone and Harry collapsed against his pillow.

No one in the room spoke for a while.

“You should take the rest of this, Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley finally, nudging the blue vial on the table.  “Think about something else.”

“All I can think about is my father and if he’s going to come back!” said Harry.  He sat up and eyed the bag of gold at the end of the bed.  “Damn them.  Damn them!”

“Who?” asked Hermione as Harry drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

“All of them.  Everyone who had a part in this.  Crouch, Voldemort, Wormtail…  All of them!  Damn the lot of them!”  Harry felt a burning feeling behind his eyes as he slammed his fist down on the bed.  “Cedric’d still be alive if it weren’t for them!  He’d be the one who’d have won the tournament.  But now he’s dead!  He’s dead!  He’s dead because Voldemort was after me!”

“It wasn’t your fault, Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley.

“Yes, it was.  It was.  He took the Cup with me.  He wouldn’t do it without me.  If I’d refused…he’d still be alive!  He’d still be alive and Voldemort wouldn’t be back and Niamh wouldn’t be hurting so much and…and…”

Tears spattered on the blanket.

Mrs. Weasley rose and wrapped her arms about Harry, pulling him close and rocking him gently as the teen cried.

Even if it was only a few tears.

Mrs. Weasley pulled back from Harry and pressed the blue vial into his hand.  “Drink it,” she said, brushing a lock of hair from his face.

And he did.  He downed all of it and let Sleep take him again.

But just before took him into her arms again, he saw Ginny by the window, a look of pride on her face and her hand clenched about something.