Chapter 66: The Graveyard, Part IIISummary:Just when our heroine thought it was over...
Chapter TextUnfortunately, she still had to deal with the Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy in the lead with wand held high. "Drop the wands and surrender, Potter."
"Get out of my way, Malfoy, you heard him. He said if I won, I could leave!"
"You think this setback will slow him down?" Other Death Eaters were congregating again, muttering in disbelief at the second loss of their Master. "He came back to life here, he won't let-!"
"Do you seriously not recognize this dagger?" She brandished the weapon before dismissing it. "It belonged to Selima Slytherin! It's been in the Slytherin common room for hundreds of years, letting us carry out our Samhain rituals! And now it's MINE!"
"Enough talk! Seize her!" Archibald Parkison swiped his wand and conjured heavy ropes that rapidly closed in. Hazel ducked them and dashed to the side, but a wall of spells cut her off. "Don't let her get away!"
"You're next on my list, Archie! I won't let you bully Pansy any longer!"
"Save your threats, wench! No one tells me how to manage my family! AVADA KE-!"
But his wand spun away before he could complete the incantation. "No one harms Potter but me." She spun around at the sound of that high, cold voice, for the first time feeling honestly afraid; Voldemort was back on his feet, the damage to his body mending itself before her very eyes!
"You see, Potter? Now surrender before we-"
"No! I gave my word!" Voldemort sounded out of breath from his second resurrection of the night. "She goes free!"
"We can't let her go!" Parkinson dove for his wand. "She'll tell everyone what she saw! She'll-!"
"Avada Kedavra." He sent a jet of lethal green light toward Parkinson, who was apparently too surprised to evade, and it caught him square in the chest. "Anyone else care to disobey his Lord and Master?"
No one cared to, as they all stepped aside, even Lucius. Voldemort lowered his wand, still slightly out of breath. "As we agreed, you are free to go. You fought very well indeed~"
"Thank you." She made to turn away, then hesitated. He was weak, his Death Eaters were cowed, she could end it all with one more spell. "Just one more thing before I leave."
"Don't be stupid, Lord Voldemort does not show mercy a second time."
"Take your mercy and fuck yourself with it then! BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Two jets of light shot toward each other. They impacted at the center, and the green light turned to gold, bright and deep; Hazel's hand was suddenly stuck to her wand, she could see the twelve runes burning brightly as the whole thing trembled and vibrated, she couldn't let go!
"Do nothing!" she heard Voldemort yell to the assembled Death Eaters, and she could see his long white fingers were also locked in place around an energetically shaking wand. The golden light splintered, formed a blinding dome that separated them from the other men. They were shouting, pleading for instructions, but as the dome sealed around them they grew distant and muffled…
She saw him trying to sever the connection, and knew instinctively that she couldn't let that happen, fought against him to keep it intact. An unearthly singing began to emanate from the golden splinters around them, which she associated with Fawkes for whatever reason. A voice told her not to let the connection break…
"No shit." She gripped her wand with both hands now, fighting with Voldemort across the divide. Then her wand began shaking even harder, and the beam of light changed at the same time, coalescing into large beads of white light that hovered for a moment before sliding her way; she felt her wand vibrate even harder, grow hot in her grasp, as the nearest bead drew closer and closer!
"Fuck off!" She clamped down with Occlumency, with her willpower, with whatever force of mind let her shrug off the Imperius and Cruciatus Curses, whatever it took to force that bead of light back along the shuddering thread. The other beads came to a halt, then reversed as well, slowly sliding back toward Voldemort; her wand became easier to control the farther the beads slid, and she gripped it anew, concentrating on the beads of the light, on how Voldemort's wand shook ever harder, on how he seemed astonished and afraid.
She realized he had no idea what was happening, any more than she did. But he was fighting the beads of light the same as she was, so she had to keep fighting, pressing down with her willpower, forcing them back! One bead drew ever closer, inch by inch, and she could see him fighting to press it back, to sever this strange connection; laughing aloud she pressed harder, and the bead of light connected at last to his wand!
What happened next was as unpredictable as anything else she'd seen all night; a strange flickering sound came out of Voldemort's wand, followed by a dense, smokey form that grew as it emerged. It took her a moment to realize it was the weirdly solid-looking gray ghost of Pansy's father. It fell to the ground, but stood up quickly, giving Voldemort a sour glare before stalking over to stand by Hazel. His voice sounded strange, echoing and distant. "Don't let go, Potter. Can't believe he killed me, after everything I did for him… for my family…"
Screams of pain and jets of light emanated from Voldemort's wand, along with a dense and smokey hand that vanished in an instant; then more weird figures: the not-ghost of Karkaroff, wide eyed and bleating with terror. "I never meant for this to happen!" He ran for the edge of the golden dome and dissolved into vapor.
Next was Bertha Jorkins, then a wide-eyed old Muggle man she didn't recognize. He shook his head in disbelief. "He really was a wizard, then. You keep it up, girl, someone's gotta stand up to him."
Bertha was beside herself. "Don't let him win! You saw what they did to me, I know you did! Don't let him win!"
Shut up, Hazel wanted to say, but she couldn't spare any energy for speaking, she had to focus on her wand, on the strange connection between them. These were the people that wand had killed, so any moment now…
More screams, jets of light, then finally, a head and a torso, an arm; the thick gray ghost of a young woman fell to the ground and straightened up, giving Voldemort a cool look of loathing before hurrying toward Hazel. "Hazel! Just hold on, your father's almost here!"
And James, too, appeared bit by bit, emerging from Voldemort's wand like a shadow puppet. "You're doing great, kiddo, just hold on a bit more." His voice was low, so low she had to lean in close to hear his echoing words while the others moved in to distract Voldemort. "We'll distract him long enough for you to break the connection and get to the Cup, it still has a Portkey charm on it. Understand?"
"Yes, dad." The first and last time in her life she would ever use those words…
"Potter, tell Pansy I'm sorry for trying to control her. And then take that bastard down, one way or another!"
"I promise." Distantly she thought there was no way that was the real Archibald Parkinson, he'd never apologize for being a bigoted asshole.
She could still hear her mother speaking. "Please forgive Sev, sweetheart, he knows what he's doing. Almost, almost… Now! Break it off NOW!"
Hazel wanted to linger here, to speak to her parents' ghosts, but the frantic command ripped through her control, and with an almighty lurch she tore her wand aside and severed the connection! The golden light faded, the threads dissolved and the strange singing stopped, but the shadowy figures lingered, blocking off Voldemort's sight!
And then she ran, ran like she'd never ran before, firing spells every which way to force the Death Eaters out of her path. She heard Voldemort shouting commands behind her, felt spells and curses flung her way, and somehow dodged them all, running from headstone to headstone; she felt another wand bouncing in her pocket, grabbed it and flung it behind her, to intercept a Blasting Curse and shatter beyond repairing. And there went the evidence tying her to Lockhart's death!
Just when she was starting to worry she'd gone the wrong way, she finally spotted the lurid white glow of the Triwizard Cup, off to one side. "Accio Cup!" It flew through the air, straight into her hand, and yanked her away by the navel!
Seconds later she landed at the mouth of the maze, where she was supposed to arrive in the first place. She landed hard, having no energy left to try and control her descent, and simply lay there with her eyes closed. All the frantic, defiant energy of the past hour or so had disappeared; there was a lot of noise and carrying on around her, part of her figured it would be confusing and deafening if she gave a damn, but she didn't, so it didn't seem to matter much.
Finally someone came near, and she lethargically raised her head to see Dumbledore kneeling next to her. "Where have you been, Hazel?"
"Graveyard. Voldemort's back. They were all there, all of them." She winced at the hoarse sound of her own voice.
"I see." For a second he seemed older than ever, old and tired and worn out, then he shook himself and took a deep breath. "Apologies must come later, for now you need the hospital wing."
"'Kay." She lay back again, closing her eyes, the events of the past hour replaying in her head. Voldemort, Lockhart, the other Death Eaters. Her parents, those strange ghosts. She felt herself lifted into the air, felt something solid and soft appear beneath her.
"Dumbledore, what's going on? Where's Potter been? What's taken her so long to-?" Was that the Minister…?
"I will try to answer your questions later, Minister, for now I must get her to the hospital wing." She felt herself moving forward, floating on some, some… was it a stretcher?
It didn't matter. She was so tired. Where had all her energy gone? She'd been energized to overflowing while fighting for her life. Haha, maybe that was it, all she needed was a life-or-death situation and she'd be up and at 'em!
…no, that sounded stupid. Not to mention fucked up as all get out! Jesus Christ…
More people were talking, some she recognized, others not so much, but Dumbledore waved them all off, politely but firmly. She covered her eyes with a groan. "Professor, make 'em shut up…"
"My apologies, Hazel." Seconds later all sound was cut off completely; he must have cast a silencing charm or something.
"Thanks." She yawned and fell asleep instantly, though it felt like seconds later she was being moved again; she opened her eyes to see Madam Pomfrey drawing curtains.
"Can you undress yourself, or shall I do it for you?"
"You do it." Pomfrey flicked her wand and made her clothing disappear, though she was only naked for a second before a second flick of her wand summoned a set of comfy pajamas for her to wear instead.
"Hold still, Potter." She flicked her wand this way and that, and Hazel held still, not like she had the energy to do anything else. "Hm, profound exhaustion and some minor scrapes. You'll want to talk about whatever happened while you were gone, of course, but that's beyond me at the moment."
"Yes ma'am."
There seemed to be a lot of people in the room all of a sudden, and all of them clamoring to see her, of all people. "Ugh, make 'em go 'way. Wanna sleep…"
She didn't know what Pomfrey did, if anything, because she dropped off in the next few seconds with no one pestering her. She had unpleasant dreams, though, of Voldemort in a fury, making demands of his Death Eaters, demands that none of them seemed to know how to appease. She frowned and subconsciously asserted her Occlumency barriers, and the dreams faded away, leaving her to rest in peace.
She awoke some time later to see the sun had arisen, and instead of the mad cacophony the night before, the only ones waiting for her now were Dumbledore, Sirius, and Mr Crouch. She yawned and sat up. "Good morning."
"Hey kiddo." Sirius sounded relieved as he stood up to stand next to her. "How ya feeling?"
"Like shit." She yawned again and rubbed her eyes. "What's going on?"
Dumbledore's voice was gentle, yet firm: "We are here to listen to your account of last night, Hazel. Putting off the retelling any longer will do no one any favors; already the most impossible rumors are spreading like wildfire across the school, and beyond. We must know the truth."
"Well, it started last summer…" From there she told the whole story as she could remember it. Her visions, her frustrations, all the events she had been unwittingly caught up in. Sirius paced back and forth; Dumbledore sat placidly; Crouch was perfectly still, and she wasn't sure he heard her at all.
She got to the part where her suspicions regarding Moody began to surface, and her encounter with the elder Crouch. He looked faintly embarrassed to have his dirty laundry aired out, but made no sound.
Finally she reached the Third Task, and her belief that it had been too easy. "Someone was still pulling strings, but who could it have been?"
Crouch made a dismissive gesture. "Examination of the boundaries would suggest it had been Karkaroff. No doubt it was a last ditch effort to curry favor and save himself."
Oh right, she had heard that. "Well, it didn't work." She got back into the story, telling them how she took Krum down from behind after his duel with Cedric, and how she called to get them both help before something else in the maze got hungry. She told them how she dealt with each obstacle in turn, from the boggart to the sphinx.
Dumbledore sighed in disapproval. "Again with the Unforgivable Curses. Your thoughts, Barty?"
Barty's reply was clipped, as usual. "Irrelevant. By all accounts the creature in question was neither sentient nor easily dealt with; a spell that bypasses physical resistance and targets the nervous system directly is a fine way to deal with such a creature. A creature, I might add, that was specifically bred for this competition, and will have to be put down later on, along with any other surviving specimens."
He looked sad for a moment. "Besides, I am hardly in a position to judge others for their use of the Unforgivable Curses."
Sirius patted her on the shoulder. "Keep going, kiddo."
"Right." She told them about her duel with Fleur, and how the Triwizard Cup had taken her to Little Hangleton. How Lucius and Lockhart had attacked her (Sirius laughed aloud when she mentioned how she repulsed them with the Entrail Expelling Curse), how Voldemort and Wormtail caught her off guard, about the ritual to bring Voldemort back to life.
Sirius was obviously confused. "Hang on, he was there, but he wasn't alive?"
"He was in a homunculus body. Remember? I saw them forcing potions down Jorkins' throat before raping her, that was probably when his infant form was created."
"Ugh, don't remind me. Fucking Dark Arts, man…"
Chapter 67: CatharsisSummary:Hazel talks a lot.
Chapter TextHazel's stomach growled loudly, and Dumbledore noticed. "A break for breakfast, I think." He flicked his wand, and several trays full of breakfast foods appeared. Hazel kept talking while she ate, eager to get past this awful tale.
"And then Lockhart came at me with a knife, saying he wanted my blood. But I remembered Ron saying something about a dream he'd had during the Divination exam, where he was in this exact situation, and he'd felt a strong urge to just… give up his blood?"
"How did you accomplish that while tied up?"
She grinned smugly. "Bit my cheek and spat blood in his eye. Malfoy told him to hurry up so he had to use that blood, and then- then Voldemort came back."
For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a gleam of something like triumph in Dumbledore's eyes. But then she was distracted by Sirius freaking out about her blood being used, and when she looked back, he was as old and weary as ever.
Crouch looked confused. "Why did the Dark Lord require your blood, Miss Potter? Surely he could have used literally any witch or wizard alive today."
"He could have, but he said there was a protection in my mother's blood, that was keeping him away from me even then, preventing him from touching me. It was how I defeated Quirrell in first year, he thought. But now that he has my blood in him, he can touch me just fine."
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Yes, your scar has expanded alarmingly. Very well, he has overcome this particular barrier. Please continue, Hazel."
She told them about how he summoned and mocked his Death Eaters, how she had to reveal the way they were connected by blood even before the ritual, his reaction to this. Dumbledore shook his head. "Your relatives will be in danger. I must ensure the wards are as strong as ever. Continue, please."
She told them how Snape had been one of the Death Eaters, how Karkaroff had died, how Voldemort had used the Cruciatus Curse on her repeatedly and how she fought it off. How he seemed to take her seriously after that, and released her so he could duel her properly.
Sirius gave a sharp bark of a laugh. "I knew it! I knew that bastard couldn't stay away forever! You sure fucked that one up, Dumbledore, no wonder Slytherin's got a bad rep and Hazel's so deep into the Dark Arts!"
"Yes, Sirius, I am well aware of your views regarding Severus. It is an unfortunate turn of events, but not insurmountable."
Hazel kept talking, told them about the duel, how she fought back, how Voldemort was strangely weak and incapable. "I think my messing with the ritual really affected him somehow, that did not go like I thought a fight against a Dark Lord would have gone."
"Or maybe you're just that good, kiddo."
"Maybe." Up til then she had kept herself under control, but they were coming up on a part of the story she wasn't sure of, and hesitated. "And then… well, and then…"
The Headmaster turned suddenly to Crouch. "Barty, you agreed that whatever Hazel had to do last night would not count against her in any court of law, correct?"
"Quite right. Actions taken under such duress, by a child no less, should have no bearing on one's future or freedom. Besides, the rules about using Dark Arts against Death Eaters were never fully repealed."
Hazel felt a little better, and took a deep breath. "I- I killed him. I killed Gilderoy Lockhart, with his own wand, in the heat of the duel."
"With the Killing Curse?"
"Yes. I tackled him from atop the statue, snatched his wand and cast the Curse into the back of his head. And then he didn't get up again, so…"
"How do you feel about it now?"
She just shrugged sullenly. "When I did it I felt like I was avenging Hermione, you know, for the time he almost…" She looked away, fighting back tears; conjured spiders and creatures were one thing, but a person, no matter how evil…
Sirius shook his head. "You promised me you'd never mess with those again, kiddo, and don't think you've heard the last of it from me. But you were probably still pretty woozy from the Cruciatus being cast on you so many times, eh?"
"Y-Yeah! Yeah, that was it, yeah."
"What then, Miss Potter?"
She got herself under control and kept speaking, telling them how she took Voldemort off guard with a snargaluff and then stabbed him to what she thought was his death. But then he came back moments later, and murdered Pansy's father before declaring she was free to go. But she hesitated, thinking she could finish Voldemort off once and for all.
"And that's when it went weird. The spells impacted each other, this golden rain appeared, and these beads of light."
Sirius snickered. "Golden shower, eh?"
"Don't be crass, Black."
"Well, I could tell it wouldn't be good if the beads touched my wand, so I forced them back into his wand, and then it… well, it started barfing back up the spells it had done before. Dueling spells, and screams, and then these weird ghosts of people he had killed."
"Who did you see?"
"Parkinson and Karkaroff, and some old Muggle man, and Bertha Jorkins, and…"
Sirius whistled low. "Lily and James. What did they say?"
She shrugged. "Nothing much. Just that they'd distract Voldemort while I broke off the connection and made a break for the Cup."
"What could cause such a thing, Albus?"
"Priori Incantatem. Hazel and Voldemort's wands each have phoenix feather cores. From Fawkes, in fact."
"Really? Fawkes gave the feather in my wand? No wonder I get along with him so well."
"Indeed. Brother wands will not willingly do combat against one another, and when the wielders force them to do so, an effect such as what you described will happen. One wand forces the other to regurgitate spells it performed, in reverse. Hence the lights and screams, and the reverse echoes of people murdered by the wand."
"Right. Well, after that, the, uh, echoes ganged up on Voldemort, I broke it off and ran, snagged the Cup and came back to the maze. And here we are."
"Yes, here we are." Crouch stood up. "Miss Potter, my son was disowned fourteen years ago after the trial, and declared dead shortly after that. As a result, I have no heirs, and no desire to produce any more, so by your leave I will make you my heir."
She was stunned by the words. "Is that allowed?"
"No one can prevent me from doing so. I will stay on at the Ministry as long as I can, but with Fudge in place at the top with his head firmly in the sand, I rather doubt that will be very long. I have already submitted for my son to be subject to the Dementor's Kiss, and-"
Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly. "Barty, no! He is a valuable witness, we will need him soon!"
"No, Albus, he is a raving lunatic whose mind has long since broken. There is nothing he can testify to that I cannot corroborate at this point; if you wish to preserve his testimony, I suggest extracting memories from his head while you still can."
Hazel leaned forward. "And I could submit Winky for questioning as well. She wound up with Sirius and I a while back, you see, serving at Grimmauld Place."
"There you are, then. If you'll excuse me." He nodded to them all and strode out of the hospital wing.
Dumbledore stared after him sadly, then shook his head and returned his gaze to Hazel. "My dear, I owe you a thousand apologies. You have tried to warn us all since last summer, and we allowed the Tournament to get in the way. Well, rest assured that with the Tournament over, I will devote all my attention to combating the threat posed by Voldemort and his Death Eaters."
"How will you do that, sir?"
His expression grew grim. "I suspect I will have to step back from Hogwarts. If Fudge reacts as we suspect he will, I will be forced out sooner or later anyway; it will be for the best if I do so voluntarily. I will act to ensure the school is well protected, rest assured."
"Sir, what about- what about Snape?"
Sirius scoffed. "What about him? Fuck that guy, seriously, we're better off without his Death Eating-"
"Enough! Sirius, I wish you to leave now, there is much to do and many people to persuade." Sulkily the man sloped off and left the hospital wing, and the Headmaster sighed. "Hazel, do you believe Severus has betrayed us?"
She hesitated, thinking of everything she had shared with the man, of the promises he had made her, and most importantly, of what her mother's echo had said in the seconds they had together. "No sir, I don't believe that at all."
"Very good. I have the utmost faith and confidence in our dour Potions Master, and I suspect you do as well. However, it will behoove us all if you pretend otherwise, am I understood?"
She knew he meant that Snape would be spying for Dumbledore, and nodded. "I understand, sir. How will we oppose him without the Ministry?"
"We will have allies inside the Ministry, of course. Amelia Bones and Kingsley Shacklebolt will be receptive, and I have already convinced Alastor to come out of retirement yet again. And you heard Barty earlier; he has always been publicly opposed to Voldemort and the Dark Arts, and I believe he will continue to do so for as long as he can."
"Until the scandal around his son comes back to haunt him again. Maybe that's why he's in such a rush to throw him to the Dementors?"
"Perhaps. In any event, do you feel up to facing the others once more?"
She took a moment to take stock of herself, of her injuries and exhaustion. "I think so, sir. I'll try to take it easy for a while, it's nearly the end of term anyway."
"Very good. Please get dressed, your clothes have been washed and repaired and are waiting for you." He pointed at a bundle of clothes by the bed, and stepped outside the curtains.
Mind still a whirl, she got out of bed, pulled the pajamas off and started getting dressed again, making sure her holster was adjusted and fitting properly. When she was ready she slid her wand into its place and stepped out, where Dumbledore gave her a nod and gestured for the door to the hospital wing.
Chapter 68: AccusationsSummary:People get really angry at each other and say some Things. Hazel gets mad too but is mostly caught in the middle.
Chapter TextA great many people surged into the room: her friends, along with Mrs Weasley and Narcissa, and even Bill was still there. Dumbledore held up his hands and spoke sharply. "A moment, please. Hazel has just had to relive the awful events of last night, and I urge you all to refrain from pestering her for further retellings. Save your curiosity until she is prepared to speak out once more. Molly, William, Narcissa, I would speak to you outside for a moment."
"Yeah, just a moment." Bill cut through the crowd and clapped a hand on Hazel's shoulder. "Doing alright then, Hazel?" She nodded curtly, and he smiled. "Good. Keep your chin up, we got some dark times ahead of us."
Narcissa and Mrs Weasley each pulled her into a tight hug before heading out to hear what Dumbledore had to say, and Hazel sighed as she turned to her friends; regardless of what Dumbledore said, she had to tell them what happened before rumors distorted things beyond her control. "He's back. Voldemort is back. Pansy, I saw him kill your father, he won't bother you or your mother ever again."
"My father? Are you sure?" She looked and sounded unsure whether to mourn or cheer.
"This is good news, right?" Draco put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He was always a berk to you, it was never a secret he really wanted a son after all."
Luna came around and inserted herself under Hazel's arm, but Hazel kept speaking. "Ron, that dream you told Lavender about? It came true, it really happened. If I hadn't overheard that, things would have gone a hell of a lot worse."
"No shit? Wow, maybe I really do have the Sight."
"Hermione." The bushy-haired lion looked up, and Hazel led her away from the others just a little. "Lockhart's dead. I- I killed him myself."
"Y-You what?"
She lowered her voice. "I. Killed. Him. With his own wand, no less. And I… I did it for you, after the shit he tried to pull in our second year."
"Was he… was he one of them?"
"Yeah, he helped out with the ritual to bring Voldemort back, and he had the Dark Mark and everything."
"Then it sounds like he deserved it. How do you feel about it?"
"About murdering a man?" Hazel shrugged. "I'll feel bad about it later, right now we have a lot of shit to deal with."
Luna nuzzled in closer, and her voice was soft. "You shouldn't have to. You should just be Hazel."
"Yeah, but which Hazel? The Hazel I want to be, or the Hazel everyone else needs?"
Before anyone could answer, the adults came back into the room. She thought the Headmaster looked a little less benevolent than before. "Hazel, Miss Parkinson, if you would come with me to my office. The Minister wishes a word with you both."
Holding hands, Hazel and Pansy followed the Headmaster up to his office, where Fudge and a pair of Aurors were waiting. He started shouting and pointing the second they entered the room. "There she is! Arrest her immediately!"
"What? Why?"
"You know why! For the murders of Igor Karkaroff, Archibald Parkinson and Gilderoy Lockhart!"
Her heart slammed in her chest. How had they found out so fast? She refused to let go of Pansy's hand, and glared coldly at the angry politician. "I assume you have proof?"
"Of course we have proof! There was Dark Magic all over that Muggle graveyard! And YOUR signature splashed across the lot of it!"
She drew her wand and handed it to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, please examine my wand for any Dark spells." She didn't trust Fudge or the Aurors not to snap it in half prematurely.
"Of course." He accepted her wand and placed the tip of it next to his own. "Priori Incantatem." An explosion of light erupted from the wand; he cast the spell a few more times, and more flashes of light came forth, and then the shadow of an angel statue. "As you can see, Cornelius, her wand was not used for any successful Killing Curses."
"She was clearly at the scene! Her testimony is necessary as a matter of security!"
She rolled her eyes. "I already testified! You may seek out Mr Crouch or Lord Black if you wish for a summary of what I said."
"Crouch!" Fudge scoffed. "Gone off his rocker, he has, ranting about his dead son come back to life and impersonating teachers! And I wouldn't trust Black not to lie through his teeth to protect you, either!"
Dumbledore drew himself to his full height, and Hazel felt that radiant sense of cold power emanating from him once again; she couldn't help but draw away slightly. "I trust you would still rely on my testimony, Minister. The traces of Dark Magic your men detected were the remnants of a foul ritual to resurrect Lord Voldemort himself! And it is only thanks to Hazel's involvement that he has not come back at his full strength! The time to act is now!"
The Minister's face turned a shade of purple that would have made Vernon proud. "We will do no such thing! Ever since she started talking to Skeeter the country has been on edge! The garbage being printed these days! And now these fantastic allegations about You-Know-Who!"
"Peace, Minister. We must not rush to hasty assumptions in this matter." It took Hazel a moment to realize she had seen this man before; it was Kingsley Shacklebolt, with his bald head and gold earring.
"Even if I killed them, they were Death Eaters. You saw the bodies, did you check their left forearms?"
The second Auror spoke up. "We did indeed. Dark Marks on all three." She was a tall woman with bright pink hair and a heart-shaped face, and she winked at Hazel when Fudge wasn't looking.
"And the laws were never revised from Barty's time in office, so the use of those spells on proven Death Eaters is still quite legal. Again, even supposing she did kill them."
Fudge rounded on Hazel. "Fine, then who DID?! You were there, who killed those men?!"
"Voldemort himself. Cowardice and disloyalty, he said." She smirked when he flinched backward at the name, but he rallied himself quickly.
"Again with You-Know-Who! I won't stand for it, Dumbledore, I won't stand for you and your pet heroine faffing about trying to uproot fourteen years of peace and stability!"
"Whether you stand for it or not, Cornelius, it is fact!" He stepped forward, forcing Fudge to back up. "Voldemort has returned! The peace and stability you claim to care so much about are now as fragile as a house of cards, and you must act immediately! Remove the Dementors from Azkaban-"
"Like hell I will! I'd be kicked out of office just for suggesting it! Half of us only sleep soundly knowing they're there guarding that awful place!"
"The rest of us do not sleep as well, knowing Voldemort's most dangerous supporters are under the protection of creatures who will desert the moment he asks! How long do you suppose peace will last when he gets his most fervent followers back, not to mention those foul demons?"
"Utterly preposterous." Fudge looked dazed, shaking his head over and over.
"The next step you must take is to send envoys to the giants-"
"Envoys? The giants?! You really have lost your mind! It'll be the end of my career if Britain hears we're dealing with giants! Everyone hates them, and with good reason!"
"I am deadly serious, Cornelius. Extend the hand of friendship now, before Voldemort does, or he will convince them that he and he alone can give them back their rights and freedoms!"
"Absolutely not! Absolutely out of the question! They wouldn't even wait for an election, I'd be tarred and feathered if I so much as-"
"You are blinded by greed and lust for the office you hold! All your objections have revolved around how quickly you would be removed if you consider the actions I have suggested, or even the basic fact of Voldemort's return! If you listen to me and do what I suggest, you will be remembered as one of the greatest Ministers for Magic Britain has ever known. But if you continue to bury your head in the sand you will be remembered only as a coward who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort to return to full power!"
For a second, Fudge seemed to hesitate, fear and outrage warring within. Then he shook his head and looked angry once more. "You're mad, Dumbledore, all of you are mad. I've allowed you too much freedom these past years, too much leniency! Well that changes! Unless you stop working against me-"
"Against you? The only one I intend to work against is Lord Voldemort. But if you are determined to shut your eyes even now, then you are on his side, willing or not."
The rest of the room had been silent, watching the two men storm and shout. Fudge was riddled with fear and outrage, no doubt seeing his comfortable life as a peaceful Minister sliding away and determined to cling to it at all costs; Dumbledore, meanwhile, seemed frustrated and tired at the puffed-up little bureaucrat before him who refused to see even the slightest sense.
"I refuse to believe it. I will not be swayed by your lies and delusions. You are a troublemaker and a warmonger, Dumbledore, and I won't stand for it. Things will change around here, whether you like it or not!"
He crammed his lime green bowler hat back on his head, spun about and made for the door, but the female Auror cleared her throat. "Potter's winnings, Minister?"
"Huh? Oh, er, right." Now acting weirdly abashed, he turned back around and approached Hazel, fishing a heavy purse from his pocket and shoving it at her resentfully. "One thousand Galleons, Potter, and I hope you choke on it. There won't be a ceremony while this madness is going around!"
He turned again and left the room, and the two Aurors made to follow. "Kingsley, Nymphadora, may I rely on the two of you?"
"Certainly, Headmaster."
"Ugh, for the last time, it's Tonks. And do you even have to ask? Let's get moving, Shack!" The two of them left the room and shut the door behind them.
"What do I do with all this?" Hazel stared at the mass of gold in her hands.
"Whatever you wish. There is much to be done, however, so I invite you to consider the matter in your common room."
"Yes sir." Hazel took Pansy's hand again and went downstairs, once more feeling drained and restless. "Well, they were afraid he'd react that way."
"I wonder why the Headmaster wanted me to go with you?"
"Maybe as a witness? I dunno."
The rest of the walk down to the Slytherin dorms was quiet, and the other students avoided speaking to them. Even when they got there, no one said much, and Hazel sat down to do homework before realizing there was no more homework; term was over, and the holidays were less than a week away.
"Is it true?" She looked up to see an older Slytherin student. "Is the Dark Lord really back?"
She nodded steadily. "He's really back. I saw him with my own eyes."
The girl shivered and closed her eyes. "Okay. Thanks." She hurried away again, and Hazel wondered what she was going through.
Tracey shivered a little herself. "Britain is fucked, by the sound of it. You-Know-Who is back, and the Ministry refuses to take action. And it sounds like Dumbledore is preparing to resign as Headmaster!"
"Where'd you hear that?"
She waved a hand vaguely. "The rumor mill. So? Is it true?"
"I dunno about Dumbledore resigning, but the rest is true. Fudge tried to have me arrested earlier, can you believe it?"
"For my father's murder, no less. You… you didn't kill him, did you? You lied about Lockhart to the Minister…"
Hazel rolled her eyes. "No, Pansy, you saw it when they tested my wand. I did kill Lockhart, but I used his wand to do it."
"Okay." She leaned against Hazel and closed her eyes, and she put an arm around her after a moment. "I'll have to write to Mother, tell her the truth. The Ministry will probably try and pin it on you even now."
"Good idea." That reminded her to write to Rita too, if Narcissa didn't do so.
The next day, after a strenuous workout, she sat down in the common room and started writing. She wrote to Rita, telling her everything that happened that awful night, sparing no details. Then she helped Pansy write a letter to her mother, and they both went up to the Owlery to send them off.
They had to stop at the Great Hall, though. A great many people were crowding around, Mr Crouch and a number of Aurors among them.
"Potter?" She reflexively drew her wand at the sound of the familiar growling voice. "Calm down, it's the real me this time." There was Mad-Eye Moody, stumping along the back of the crowd, staff in one hand and wand in the other. His magical eye was whirring every which way, even more erratic than before.
Warily she lowered her wand, but didn't put it away. "Good morning, Professor."
The man scoffed at that. "Never got 'round to much teaching, did I? Call me Mad-Eye, everyone else does."
"Right." She wasn't sure she'd be able to do that, honestly, but whatever. "What's going on, then?"
He grinned brightly and sipped from his flask. "Crouch Jr's time is running out.". He saw her eying it suspiciously, and scoffed. "Don't worry, s'just firewhiskey this time. Wanna sniff?"
"Sure." She took the flask and sniffed it, and grimaced at the strong reek of the spicy liquor. "Ugh, okay, I believe you."
"Come on, Hazel, we don't need to see this." Pansy tugged her around the edge of the crowd, and Moody didn't stop them. They went to the stairs and on up, where they sent their letters and took an indirect way around to the dungeons on their way back.
Chapter 69: EulogiesSummary:The end of an era. Well, end of term at least. The right people win the things, though it doesn't feel like winning.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextThe next few days went by in a haze, and Hazel was happy to let them go by. She kept her ears open for rumors, watched Dumbledore's office with the Marauder's Map as much as she could: he was meeting with a lot of people, no doubt preparing for his so-called retirement.
She kept herself busy, training in the Room of Requirement, and on the restored Quidditch pitch, and brewing Wiggenweld so she wouldn't exhaust herself. Her team was glad for the exercise, and even more glad to have a new season to prepare for in a few months; she worried about Voldemort of course, but told herself to trust the adults and leave things to them for now while she focused on school.
The other Captains believed her, thankfully, especially Cedric. "Dad and I are going to help Dumbledore after I graduate and finish my NEWTs. He's well placed in the Ministry, and I reckon I can train with the Aurors and still help out the Order."
"Sounds good to me."
In the absence of any official statement from Dumbledore, people were forming their own opinions. Every now and then someone would run up to her, ask if it was true, and she said it was, and they would run off again to whisper to their friends.
When Krum came up to her, she found herself reaching for her wand, but he made no move to attack. "Karkaroff is dead. We received his body yesterday."
"I know, I saw what happened."
"You saw him die, and did nothing?"
"I was tied up, there was nothing I could do."
"What happened? How did he die?"
"Voldemort killed him, alright? He was a Death Eater, and his boss killed him for cowardice."
He stared for a moment, then shrugged. "It is not surprising. He was never the bravest man; he will not be mourned for long."
"Can you get back to Durmstrang without him?"
He scoffed. "We got here without him; he stayed in his cabin the entire trip. We can get back by ourselves as well, though the Deputy Headmistress has offered to come down and help."
Finally, the last day of term was here, and Hazel packed her things, cleaned her part of the dorm. She spent the day with her friends, either flying around the castle or just having fun. She did her best to not think about what was coming, about the inevitable shitshow that was waiting for her outside the walls of the castle.
The feast that night was somber, despite the glittering green and silver banners announcing Slytherin had won the House Cup yet again. All the teachers and judges sat at the high table, except of course for Karkaroff; she was surprised to see Crouch and Bagman up there, as well. Bagman was in a good mood once again, laughing and winking at everyone.
At last, Dumbledore got to his feet. He spoke softly, yet his voice resonated around the Hall. "Another year gone. Much happened this year, from Tasks and Tournaments to successes and failures. One failure, however, looms above the rest. Before I get into that, though, there are two things to address: first, that Slytherin has won our House Cup, and in place of Professor Snape, Professor Sinistra will accept it on behalf of Slytherin House."
The dark-skinned Astronomy Professor waved as the House Cup floated to stand before her plate, but she did not smile. "Secondly, I must acknowledge the loss of Professor Igor Karkaroff of Durmstrang Institute."
Everyone turned to look at the Durmstrang students, who wore black as a sign of respect. They held their heads high and did not return the curious looks.
"I considered Igor a friend, despite the choices he made in his youth, and though I disagreed with the way he led his school, none can deny that his methods were effective; one need only look to the academic achievements his students have accrued, or the international awards earned by the school under his leadership. For all his failings, Karkaroff was without doubt a dedicated teacher, and he should be remembered as such."
He picked up his goblet and raised it high. "Raise your goblets and glasses, if you would, to Igor Karkaroff."
"Igor Karkaroff," repeated countless voices throughout the hall, as everyone stood up and raised a goblet as well.
"The circumstances of his death have been suppressed, however it is my belief that death must be faced head on, rather than avoided. And you students of Durmstrang, at least, deserve the truth."
He paused, gaze sweeping the Hall, resting briefly on Hazel and Krum. "Professor Karkaroff was murdered by Lord Voldemort."
Whispers broke out across the tables, though they did not last long beneath Dumbledore's somber gaze. "The Ministry of Magic will frown upon this revelation, they will insist his death was a tragic accident, or perhaps was caused by someone else; possibly some of your parents would not appreciate my telling you this either, out of a refusal to believe Voldemort has returned or out of a mistaken belief that such things should not be discussed with children. It is my belief, of course, that the truth is preferable to lies, and that any attempt to portray Karkaroff's death as something other than what it was, would be an insult to his memory."
Krum stood up. "Professor Dumbledore, may I speak?" Dumbledore nodded gravely, and he turned to face the rest of the Hall. "Do not waste your breath mourning our Headmaster, he was a Death Eater and a coward. He may have been an effective teacher, but that does not erase his mistakes, or the way he died. That said, we have decided to remain in Britain and lend our wands in the struggle against this warlord of yours; it is the least we can do to avenge the Headmaster we should have had."
He sat down again, and the Headmaster nodded gravely. "Well said, Viktor, well said indeed. There is one other person I must acknowledge regarding Karkaroff's death, and that is the young woman who witnessed and reported it: Hazel Potter."
Heads turned toward her, and she glared back until they returned their attention to the Headmaster. "Hazel had the misfortune of being there the night Voldemort came back, of witnessing the death of Karkaroff and narrowly avoiding her own. She showed incredible skill and bravery in standing up to him, in dueling him on his terms, and for this, she should be honored."
He faced her and raised his goblet once more before tipping it back briefly. "Hazel Potter." Others did the same, but not everyone; Crabbe and Goyle, she noticed, remained seated.
"The aim of the Triwizard Tournament was to promote international cooperation, as well as magical understanding, and in light of Voldemort's return, such ties are more important than ever." His gaze swept the Hall, from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur and the other Beauxbatons students, over to Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students. "All of you are welcome back here at any time, if you wish to return. You may consider Lord Voldemort to be a regional threat, confined to Britain; regional or not, a threat to one is a threat to all. His greatest weapon is his skill for sowing discord and enmity among allies, and the best way to counteract said weapon is to stand united and strong in the face of evil and malevolence.
"It is my belief, and I pray I am mistaken, that we are facing dark and difficult times. A few of you have already suffered at Voldemort's hands, or had family torn from you. Remember to stand strong, remember your friends, allies and loved ones. Remember, if you should be faced with a choice between what is right and what is easy, what happened to a man who chose the easy way out.
"With that, I bid you all a fond farewell and good night."
After a silent moment the benches scraped across the floor, and the students rose to return to their dorms. Hazel was silent as she walked hand in hand with Pansy, surrounded by the other fourth-year Slytherins; she didn't want to stay here, but she didn't want to go back to Surrey either. Would the blood protection still hold now that Voldemort had her blood in his body? Would the Dursleys be a target for his blood-purist ways, now that he knew they had Slytherin's blood?
She spent the night with Pansy, and in the morning made sure she had the last of her things before heading up to breakfast. It went by quickly, and before she knew it, everyone was waiting outside for the carriages to pull up. It was a beautiful summer day, and she imagined how brown and dead the lawns and gardens of Privet Drive would be; normally she'd smirk at the thought of bringing the Dursleys' yard to lush prominence, but it only made her sigh for now.
Across the grounds, she saw Hagrid and Madame Maxime preparing the Beauxbatons carriage for transport, harnessing the giant winged horses one by one to their traces. At the lake, the Durmstrang students were swarming over the ship, and Hazel wondered what they were doing until she remembered they still had to bring the ship back to their school, and probably sort out a few end of year and graduation things.
To her surprise, she saw two figures moving across the lawn toward the gathered Hogwarts students; peering more closely, she realized they were Fleur and Krum. Fleur saw her and waved, and she left the queue to meet with them. "What's up, you two?"
"I wanted to say good luck for now, Hazel Potter." Fleur pulled her into a hug, and her head spun as she hugged back, inadvertently inhaling a nose full of her perfume that made her head spin even harder. "But not goodbye! I want to come to England and join the fight with Viktor, and your friend Bill said he would help me find a job at the bank!"
"Oh, that's… that's amazing, I'm sure we'll see each other again."
"You're too sweet~" Fleur let go and pranced away to say goodbye to others she had made friends with, leaving Krum to chuckle awkwardly.
"Always has to show off, she does."
"Hey, I'm not complaining!"
He chuckled again. "We must bring the ship back to the school, and sort some things out, and then we will come back to England. We were serious when we said we would lend a hand."
"Who said you weren't?"
He shrugged. "No one, yet. I hope to repair Durmstrang's reputation, it suffered while Karkaroff was in charge. But Professor Glushkova is cut from different cloth, she supports us and is already planning how to supplant Karkaroff's legacy."
"Then I look forward to working with you." They shook hands, and he turned to look for Hermione.
The carriages came along soon enough, pulled by the thestrals not everyone could see. Hazel, Hermione, Pansy and Luna got a carriage together, and rode in silence down to the station, where the vast crimson Hogwarts Express waited for them.
"You think you're hard, Potter?"
"Diggory won't be here to save you next year!"
Hazel rolled her eyes and turned to face Crabbe and Goyle. "Jesus Christ, boys, you still don't understand. Cedric wasn't saving me from you, he was saving you from me. I know I'm hard, hard enough to put you in the hospital if you keep fucking around, so leave me the hell alone already."
Cedric himself appeared and glowered at the two thugs. "I'm still here right for now, too. Now move along, you're holding up the line."
They grumbled and muttered but moved aside, and Hazel quickly found an empty compartment to shove her trunk and cage into, followed by Luna, Pansy, Hermione, Ron and Draco.
"I've never seen the school less excited for the end of the year." Draco sat down and stretched out to get comfortable.
"Well, can you blame them? With You-Know-Who back, and people are already dying and all." Ron too settled in. "Wish we knew what the grownups're planning."
"I kept hearing something about an Order of the Phoenix all year. I bet Dumbledore's working on getting that back together, whatever it is."
The train was well under way before Pansy spoke up. "Did you really see Snape there?"
Hazel hesitated, remembering what Dumbledore had said. "I didn't see him."
Hermione leaned forward. "Did you hear him then?"
She sighed. "Yes, I heard him. He didn't say much, he made it sound like he'd dragged Karkaroff there, and then Voldemort killed Karkaroff for cowardice. Even after he said he had helped me in the maze, made sure I'd reach the center."
Draco looked troubled. "He really is on the Dark Lord's side then. I can't believe it. Dumbledore never doubted him for a second, not even a little bit."
Hazel shrugged. "Some people see loyalty differently, that's all. Cheer up though, we've got Sinistra for Head of House from now on."
"You think she'll have to teach Defense next year too?"
"No, Ronald, someone has to stay on top and watch the skies." Luna snuggled into Hazel's side with her eyes closed. "Or who will give us our forewarning?"
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Ah, Mother wrote back. She said she believes you about the Dark Lord, and will make sure the Parkinson estate is aligned against him from now on."
"My Mother said much the same thing."
Later on, the compartment door opened, and Fred poked his head in. "Alright, you lot? Seen Ginny?"
"No, not since the train left. Say, did you ever get your money back from Bagman?"
"Oi, no airing out dirty laundry." They muscled their way inside. "But yeah, we got it back eventually. Only after the git bet everything that you'd pull through in the end, Hazel."
"What, really? He got out of gambling with more gambling?"
Fred shrugged. "So long as we got paid, with interest, it's all we care about. And boy, was there interest!"
"That joke shop's as good as ours!" George cackled and rubbed his hands gleefully.
They moved on after a few minutes, and Hermione glowered at the door as it shut. "They've been making a real mess of the common room every night with their pranks and jokes. And the prefects never did anything about it! I swear, when I get that badge…"
"Oh, are they making you a prefect next term?"
"I dunno for sure, but they're bound to, aren't they? None of the other girls in my dorm get the kind of grades I do, except maybe Parvati."
Pansy nudged Hazel. "Hazel's in the same boat, none of us even want to be prefect. It'll be her and Draco, you wait and see."
"Not this again." Hazel rolled her eyes. "Without Snape around, who knows what'll happen? Sinistra might have very different priorities."
Draco laughed. "Slytherin is still Slytherin, regardless of who might be Head of House."
The rest of the ride south went along those lines, and all too soon the train was screeching to a stop at King's Cross. Hazel gathered her stuff and joined the throng heading to the platform, keeping a tight grip on her things as they went. Soon enough she stepped out, wincing as the heat hit her in the face and trying not to cough at the smoky feeling of the air; she saw the Weasleys waiting to greet their kids, and Narcissa standing nearby waiting for Draco.
"Hazel." She swept forward to hug her tightly, and then her son. "I've heard everything. Will you be alright on your own?"
"I'll be okay. Dumbledore says I'll be fine, anyway."
"Well, keep your nose clean, dear, and watch how you do magic out there. I fear the Ministry may not be so lenient as they have been before."
She nodded and let go, and endured the Weasley tornado for a few moments. "I'm fine, Mrs Weasley, really, I- yes, I need to go, alright? I'll write, I promise I'll write-"
Finally she got free, and went toward the barrier that separated them from Muggle London. The guard nodded, and she slipped through, coughing even harder with the heavier smog on this side. The heat felt worse here too; she wondered if there wasn't a drought going on or something. She saw the Dursleys standing at the far end, with Sirius nearby, and pressed through the crowd to reach them.
"What happened to your head, Hazel?" Dudley gaped at the burnt side of her head. He had a leather jacket and thick shades on, and had greased up his hair. "And your scar, it's gotten bigger!"
"Not now, Duds." She glanced at Sirius and raised an eyebrow, and he just scoffed and ruffled her hair before turning away.
"Let's not stand around." Vernon popped the boot so Hazel could stash her trunk. "Get in, let's go."
Hazel sighed and stuck Hedwig in the center seat before buckling herself in, bracing herself for another hot, lonely Privet Drive summer.
Notes:Chapter 69! I swear I didn't plan it that way, that's just where the plot ran out. Anyway, as usual I'll take a couple weeks off to work on the next one, so keep an eye out for The Girl & the Prophecysome time toward the middle or end of the month!
Series this work belongs to:← Previous Work Part 4 of Hazel's Story Next Work →