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After Harry and Hermione disappeared from the Quidditch World Cup campsite using the portkey Arthur had given him, the duo appeared in Diagon Alley. Having travelled by portkey for the third time, Hermione seemed much better and showed no visible discomfort. She was getting used to methods of magical teleportation.
The alley was bustling with its usual liveliness, yet it was clear that news of the Death Eaters' attack the previous night, and their subsequent massacre had already spread. Beneath the chatter and the usual day to day activity of the alley, there was an undercurrent of unease. People were talking in hushed tones and were fearful. And though no one was mentioning the name, the death eaters and the dark mark hovering in the air had brought back the memories of that one man. Voldemort.
It was the quiet tension in the air. Apprehension, anxiety, and fear could be felt all around. And the even bigger question, who was the man who massacred the death eaters?
"Should I drop you home, Hermione?" Harry asked. "Or are your parents coming to pick you up somewhere?"
"No," Hermione shook her head. "I told them that someone would drop me. They would not be coming."
Harry nodded, and with another twist of space, the two vanished from the spot. When they reappeared, they were standing in a narrow alley next to Hermione's house.
Hermione looked up at Harry with longing in her eyes. In response, he smiled softly and pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her.
"Just a few more days," Harry said reassuringly.
Hermione gave a muffled nod, pressing her face further into his chest. "Hmm."
"Harry," she murmured, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.
Understanding what she wanted, Harry leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss. Hermione rose on her toes and kissed him back with surprising intensity, her hands clutching at his shirt as she pressed closer. Harry tightened his hold, deepening the kiss.
After a long, reluctant moment, they pulled apart, breathing softly.
"Harry," Hermione said quietly, "those words Percy mentioned, Lord and Wizengamot, you know about them."
Though it sounded like a question, it was more of a remark. She was certain. Harry nodded in response.
"Wait until Hogwarts," he said. "It will take a long explanation."
Hermione pouted, "Everything I have asked you for the past two months, you have replied with only one thing…"
She made an exaggerated face and mimicked his voice, "Wait for Hogwarts."
Harry let out an awkward laugh. "Well, now there are not many days left."
Hermione huffed in mild annoyance but did not push further. She gave him one last, lingering look. "Bye, Harry."
"Bye, Hermione," he replied, watching as she walked toward her house. He stood there until she disappeared inside.
"Time to capture another rat," Harry muttered to himself, his expression hardening before he vanished from the spot.
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Barty Crouch Jr. was sitting in a small inn, located in a small magical community in an obscure part of Magical Britain. This magical settlement was one of those isolated settlements where people barely paid attention. A perfect place to hide and lay low.
It had been years since he had been free of the imperius curse for such a long time. Barty Crouch Jr. loved his mother and his father too, for all that his parents had done to rescue him from Azkaban. But he equally hated the man.
His father had never been able to understand the greatness of the Dark Lord. Just because he had suffered some setback did not mean that the Dark Lord would not return. The Dark Lord would return.
After his father had brought him back from Azkaban, Barty Crouch Jr. had wanted to go on a quest to find his Dark Lord. But the fool his father was, ignorant of the Dark Lord's powers, did not agree. A confrontation broke out between the father and son. The result. The son, Crouch Jr., was captured and put under imperius.
Since then, his father had been keeping him under a constant imperius curse, allowing only momentary relief, and that too in a controlled manner. Winky, the house elf, was the one who had been taking care of him all those years.
But yesterday, an opportunity came knocking for Crouch Jr. Winky, following his late mother's last wish to always care for him, persuaded Crouch Sr. to let his son out, to allow Crouch Jr. to come to the Quidditch World Cup final.
The imperius cast on him, for some odd reason, was suddenly neutralised and he found himself free of the curse in the VIP room.
The moment he was freed, his eyes caught sight of his greatest enemy. Harry Potter. Oh, how he had willed to kill that half blood then and there, but he resisted his uncontrollable desire. He understood that he was weak and without a wand, in the presence of so many people, he had no chance of success.
Even so, he kept his cool and bided his time until midnight. In the darkness of the night, he made his escape.
To his surprise, he found a few individuals dressed in the Death Eaters' robes causing havoc. But Crouch Jr. was not someone to be fooled. He did not take a moment to realise that this was not an attack ordered by the Dark Lord. They were people who merely wanted to enjoy themselves in the name of the Dark Lord.
Fortunately, he found a wand, some idiot wizard or witch might have dropped it in the scuffle. With the wand, he fired a Dark Mark to scare away those idiots and quickly made his escape from the place.
He chose an isolated location to hide. This place was already remote, and his face already would have long faded from the public's memory. It was almost impossible that someone would recognise him here.
He was still deciding his future course of action, whether to kill Harry Potter or search for the Dark Lord, when his eyes spotted the newspaper of the day.
'Mayhem at the Quidditch World Cup Final.'
'13 individuals dressed in Death Eater Robes massacred by a mysterious individual.'
'Is the mysterious individual a protector or another individual another blood thirsty monster?'
These were the headlines of the day and Crouch Jr. was almost shocked that those fools mimicking themselves as death eaters had been killed.
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