Chapter 36- Snake in Lion’s fur

Harry quickly scanned the Marauder’s Map as he made his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room from the Prefect’s bathroom. It had taken him a few days to get the right time when he could go and not risk being interrupted by a Prefect. He had decided to wait for classes to start again and go very late at night during the week. This way he was guaranteed that no one would be using their Prefect status to be out late.

So, on the first day of classes, Harry sneaked out late at night with his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder’s Map. He was awfully tired but he wanted to get this clue done once and forever. It had been a stressful day; during his first class he received very unpleasant news. Somehow Rita Skeeter had found out Hagrid was a half-giant. Harry had always known of course, his dad had told him when he was little and explained that it went into the “do not tell people” category, just like his being a Parselmouth and Uncle Moony’s furry little problem. But now it was out in the world, and Hagrid had shut himself in his cabin and refused to open it for anyone. Even Remus and Sirius had tried and had no luck. Harry didn’t know how Skeeter found out and Ron told them that maybe she overheard Hagrid and Madame Maxime talking. Apparently Ron had been on the grounds and heard them, but he decided to keep it to himself, until now. But he was sure he had not seen Skeeter, and Harry knew for a fact that Dumbledore had forbidden her to come onto the grounds.  But she must have found a way, and she had milked her information for all it was worth. Even stupid Malfoy had given an interview talking about his near death experience with a Hippogriff, only to be saved by Harry. Harry could bet that getting Hagrid into trouble was the only thing that was able to make Malfoy paint Harry in a good light. Skeeter must have loved it because she kept on going on about “how dangerous Hagrid was maiming our dear Boy-Who-Lived”. Harry wanted to puke.

In the Prefect’s bathroom, he did as Cedric told him and submerged himself with the egg. Finally being able to hear the poem that the egg held, he realized, with some disturbing help from Moaning Myrtle, that something important to him would be taken to the bottom of the lake and he would only have an hour to retrieve it. All he had to do now is figure how to breathe underwater. Easier said than done. At least he still had almost two months to do that.

No wonder Uncle Sev had started making him practice spells nonverbally. He wouldn’t be able to cast them properly underwater. Speaking of Uncle Sev, Harry looked at the map and sighed in relief; his dot was secure in his bedroom in the staff wing. Harry knew he had a good reason to be out in the corridors after curfew, but Uncle Sev would not take kindly to it. He would say Harry could have done it some other safer way. Now that he had already done it he thought he probably could have gone to the Room of Requirement and asked for a pool, but how does the saying go? Hindsight is twenty-twenty.

Harry moved along, checking the map again; good no one in my path. Some ghost on the floor below. Filch going around the dungeon and… What?

What was Mr. Crouch doing in Severus’ office? Wasn’t he sick? Why was he here and roaming around Severus’ office of all places at one in the morning? But sure enough, the dot labeled Bartemius Crouch was in the Potions Master’s office.

Harry bit his lip, very tempted to go check it out for himself, but if catching him out at this time would send Severus and his dad in a fit and earn him Uncle Moony’s Look, checking what someone his dad and Uncle hated was doing sneaking into Hogwarts would probably amass to being grounded and not let out of their sight for the rest of his life. So Harry did the smart thing and went straight back to Gryffindor Tower. Tomorrow, during his extra class, he would tell his Uncle.

XXXXXXXXX

“And you were just taking a look at the map at one in the morning out of curiosity?” Severus asked Harry with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, not exactly,” Harry said slowly but then quickly tried turning the table. “But that’s beside the point, Uncle Sev. What matters is what was Crouch doing there?”

Sirius sat down on one of the chairs that had appeared in the Room of Requirement after their training session and frowned, “He’s right. You said yourself this morning that someone broke into your office, and now we know who. But why?”

“Because Crouch is desperate to get back in the game,” Severus snorted sitting down. “I bet all he wants is to catch a Death Eater red-handed and deliver him to the Ministry, getting his old position back.”

“He was supposedly too ill to come to the Ball and not two weeks later he is well enough to sneak into Hogwarts? And how did he? Albus still keeps the passages we showed him shut and security tight since Bellatrix and Pettigrew haven’t been caught yet,” Remus said worried. “How did he get in without us knowing?”

“Was something missing from your office Severus?” Sirius asked.

“Yes,” Severus said. “Nothing important. I don’t keep anything important there, but some potions ingredients were missing. Boomslang skin.”

“With Bicorn horn added to that you have the Polyjuice Potion,” Harry said under his breath. When he felt three glares on him he added sheepishly, “Or so I’ve heard.”

Sirius sighed and rubbed his temple, “I think we just found out what happened to Ms. Granger on Christmas two years ago.”

“And why, pray tell, would four twelve-year-olds brew Polyjuice Potion?” Severus asked in a low and dangerous tone.

Harry gulped and squeaked out, “We thought maybe Malfoy knew something about the Chamber of Secrets and so we took Crabbe and Goyle’s places. He didn’t though.”

“I should give you all detention and take about two hundred points from Gryffindor,” Severus growled, and then he said gritting his teeth, “Unfortunately I would have to say how I came about this information and I can’t, now can I?”

Harry shook his head and Sirius whispered, “Besides, deep down he is proud you brewed such a difficult Potion at the age of twelve.”

“Hermione did most of the brewing, I helped a little though.”

“Back to the subject at hand,” Remus said. “Why would Crouch be brewing Polyjuice?”

Severus looked at him blankly and frowned shrugging. Sirius on the other hand leapt up and started pacing.

“Can’t be…no they were together at Halloween …what if it wasn’t Crouch …but then he had to have escaped somehow…makes sense.”

“Sorry dad, but it doesn’t,” Harry said bewildered and was glad to see he wasn’t the only one who looked confused.

“You have the map with you now, right Harry?” Sirius asked extending his hand. Harry nodded and retrieved it from his pocket, handing it to Sirius.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” and the other three watched as Sirius scanned the map and said grimly, “I knew something was off with him.”

“With who?” Remus asked as he joined Sirius. Harry and Severus were just behind them, and Sirius pointed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts’ teacher’s office. The dot there was not labeled Alastor Moody but Bartemius Crouch.

“You think Crouch is posing as Moody?” Severus asked skeptically.

“I think Crouch Junior is posing as Moody,” Sirius said slowly.

“He’s dead Sirius. He died in Azkaban,” Remus reasoned.

“Crouch was given one last time to visit with his sick wife. Dementors can’t see. What if Crouch used Polyjuice then? What if he exchanged the two? His wife died not long after that. It’s the only explanation. Crouch and Moody were together at Halloween. We saw it. Moody has been acting strangely, more than usual. I was not exaggerating when I got into his face; the Moody I know would have never showed children the Unforgivables or put them under them. Then there are the little things. For one, he’s been avoiding me. Second, there are comments I make, jokes he doesn’t get. I was just thinking he was getting old you know? Too many hexes had taken their toll. But now, it makes sense.”

“What if the Crouch that came on Halloween and for the First task was someone on Polyjuice? He was weird, didn’t look good at all,” Harry offered. “Maybe Crouch is posing as Moody and someone else came as him. Pettigrew or Bellatrix.”

“No, they can’t. It’s like we said. Albus put a spell on the boundaries that reads magical signatures. Their signature would have been spotted at Hogwarts. Polyjuice can’t mask magical signature, that is why the map shows Crouch, not Moody,” Remus said.

“And as much as I hate to admit it, Bartemius Crouch would never serve Voldemort. That’s for sure. But now that I think about it, you’re right. He looked weird, apathetic...” Sirius said.

“Imperius,” Severus whispered.

“Mischief managed,” Remus whispered tapping the map. “We have to do this right, and quickly,” he said looking at the others. “Go tell Albus what we suspect Severus. Sirius, can you contact Kingsley and other Aurors you trust with your life so that they can go to Crouch’s house?”

Sirius nodded.

“Good, tell them to wait for your signal. You Harry, go back to Gryffindor Tower and stay there. If you see anyone about to go out after curfew stop them. After you talk to Albus, Severus you do the same for Slytherin, yes Severus, you will stay out of this. We can’t risk your cover.  I’ll tell Pomona and Filius to make sure they lock their Houses in too. We can’t have students roaming around in case he tries to escape. After, and only after we are ready, we go and confront Moody-Crouch and your team of Aurors breaks in Crouch Sr. house at the same time. We can’t risk one being notified by the other. I don’t think we should go in with too many to confront Moody or he’ll get suspicious. It’s best if it’s just Albus, Sirius, me and Minerva; we can pretend we are asking him if he wants a drink or something. Anyone else would be weird and he would suspect.”

Severus huffed and stalked out mumbling, “Bossy little thing.”

“I’ll take you back to Gryffindor Tower, Harry while Sirius contacts his friends.”

“Yes, sir. Moony sir,” Sirius saluted and left too.

Harry bit back a nervous smile and followed Remus.

XXXXXX

“Stop fidgeting Harry!” Hermione scolded. “What has you so nervous?”

Harry bit his lips and looked at his friends. Should he tell them? They could tell he was nervous. He was; he didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know what happened to his family. What if Crouch Jr., if that was who he was, got the better of them? What if they were hurt? He decided he couldn’t take it anymore and said in a whisper, eyeing Dean and Seamus who were in a heated chess game. “Go wait for me up in our room, I’ll be right up.”

As his friends got up, slowly gathering their things, Harry walked towards Fred and George who were in a corner muttering over a piece of parchment. George nudged Fred and they turned their identical innocent faces to Harry.

“Hello there Harry. How may we be of service this fine night?” George asked.

“I need a favor. A favor that is quite the opposite of what you are used to and I can’t tell you why.”

Fred and George looked at each other and shrugged, “Shoot.’

“I need you to make sure no one leaves the tower. It’s very important. I’ll promise I’ll tell you why tomorrow.”

“George, brother of mine, I never thought the day would come when I would say this, but don’t fret young Harry. We will make sure everyone … behaves,” Fred finished painfully.

“Thanks,” Harry smiled and turned quickly to go upstairs. As he reached his room he saw his three friends seated on his bed. Hermione and Ron had woken up the day after their fight, acting as if nothing had happened and the others followed suit. Harry cast the Muffliato spell towards the door, after closing it, just to be sure and sat down. He quickly explained about seeing Crouch on the map and telling his dad and Uncle, conveniently leaving Severus out of the story. He told them about his dad looking at the map and seeing Crouch in Moody’s office and how his dad figured out Crouch Jr. must have been posing as Moody with Polyjuice, again leaving how they knew someone had been stealing ingredients out of the story. Neville’s face was white:

“He is alive then,” he said through gritted teeth. Harry nodded sadly. “And he is the one trying to kill you?”

“Dad thinks so.”

“Professor Black caught him once,” Neville said firmly. “He’ll do it again. And this time he won’t have daddy to help him escape.”

Ron and Hermione looked quite shocked at Neville’s cold tone and Hermione also looked puzzled. Harry could see she thought something was missing from the story but thankfully she didn’t push. Instead she became practical, “We can’t do anything but wait. They will be fine. You said it yourself, it’s four against one, and one of them is Professor Dumbledore. Why don’t we focus on the second task to take our minds off this. We have to find a way for you to breathe underwater for an hour. Maybe a charm?”

“Gillyweed,” Neville blurted.

“What?” Ron asked.

“It’s in the book that Moo- the Death Eater gave me. I bet he did so on purpose so I would tell Harry, now that I think about it. But still, given by him or not, it works. It’s a plant that will enable Harry to breathe underwater. We can buy it this weekend when we go to Hogsmeade.”

“Why would he help Harry through the task?” Ron asked.

“Maybe he wants Harry to get through them safely,” Hermione said frowning. “Maybe whatever he had planned to do to kill Harry is during the third task.”

“Then we don’t have to worry, I mean more than normal for a Triwizard Task. Because he’ll be gone won’t he?” Ron said confidently. Harry tried to feel the same way but he couldn’t help but feel that his life was never that easy.

XXX

There was a knock on the door and Alastor Moody opened it to find a twinkling Albus Dumbledore accompanied by his Deputy Headmistress and two of his teachers.

“We were going for a nightcap Alastor. Care to join us?”

“No thank you Albus,” he grunted. “I am quite tired. I’m going to retire early.”

“Oh, come on Mad-Eye,” Sirius said happily, forcing himself in the room and thus creating more room for the others. “Don’t be so grouchy. You never refused a nightcap before.”

If Sirius hadn’t been looking for it he could have missed it, but Moody’s face faltered very briefly as if he had been taken by surprise but he quickly recovered, “Getting old, you know. Have to go to bed early.”

“You are my age Alastor,” Minerva smiled taking a seat. “And I don’t think I’m old. Since you won’t go out with us, why not enjoy a drink here?” she said, conjuring a bottle of mead and five glasses.

They all took places around the table, Moody clearly annoyed.

“Ah, no you don’t Alastor. You’ve never suspected me before you won’t start now will you?” Minerva said firmly when Moody had taken his flask out. Before he had time to react she had summoned the flask.

“Minerva, give it back to me,” he growled, gripping his wand with one hand while the other was still extended.

“I don’t think so,” she said as hers and the other three wands were suddenly pointed at Moody. She sniffed the contents of the flask and wrinkled her nose. “My mead is definitely better than this Polyjuice.”

“EXPELLIARMUS!” Sirius cried but Moody kept a tight grip on his by crying, “Protego". He smiled eerily at them, his magical eye swiveling like mad.

“There is no way out,” Albus said as the four of them backed Moody into a wall.

“Care to explain to us who you really are?” Remus asked calmly. “We have a nice guess.”

Moody’s face twisted in a horrible smile and he said, “Then you should know you’ll get nothing from me. I had the whole world thinking I was an innocent boy in the wrong place at the wrong time. If not for my father I’d have been declared innocent.”

“How and why did you put Harry’s name in that Goblet?” Sirius hissed.

“I’ll never talk,” he said in a singsong voice.

“Where is the real Alastor Moody? What have you done to him?” Albus said radiating power.

“Kept him well hidden didn’t I?”

“If you won’t talk voluntarily,” Remus said firmly, producing a vial from his robes. “We’ll just make you.”

Moody’s stance changed from cheeky to tense in a second and he cried, “I don’t think so. You can’t stop the Dark Lord.” Before anyone could act he turned his wand on himself and cried, “Avada Kedrava”

“NO!” the four shouted as they lunged forward in vain. Moody’s body fell to the ground and started morphing. His magical eye got practically spit out of its socket, as did his wooden leg. In Moody’s place was the still body and empty eyes of a young man in his thirties. He was dead, and with him the answers they wanted. He had died smiling, as if laughing at all of them.

---