28

Harry was gasping for air by the time he reached the potions classroom. He burst in without thought (he seemed to be making a habit of that today), but was brought up short when he found an entire classroom of eyes staring at him.

"Mr Potter, nice of you to join us finally," Snape's silky drawl said from the front of the room, but Harry ignored him.

"Dumbledore sent me, said to bring veritaserum up to the defence classroom," he panted, taking no notice of the stares of his classmates and focusing on the professor, willing the man to move quickly. But Snape hadn't moved, merely raising one eyebrow, questioning Harry with his eyes. "Hurry the fuck up!" Harry finally exclaimed, before turning and beginning the run back up to the defence classroom. He really ought to be fitter than this, he thought idly as he got a stitch in his side. Hurried footsteps behind him told him that the professor had taken the hint, or at the very least was trying to catch up with Harry to give him detention. Either way, it would get him where he was needed, so Harry wasn't really fussy which it was.

The door to Moody's classroom was closed when Harry reached it, and he turned and put his finger to his lips in a shushing gesture as he heard Snape's footsteps halt behind him. Slowly pulling his wand from his holster, Harry crept forwards, nudging the door open slightly with his foot. There was no sound from within, but surely Dumbledore, Sirius and Remus had already arrived? There was a scuffling noise and Harry barely contained a gasp of surprise. Steeling himself, he edged into the room, Snape following behind him with a confused look on his face.

The room was a mess. Desks were turned over, papers were ripped and scattered across the floor and the sneak-o-scope from Moody's desk was shattered, fragments of broken glass strewn amongst the other debris. But there was no Dumbledore, no Sirius, no Remus; not even Moody was present in his own classroom.

"The office," Snape whispered and again Harry had to stifle a gasp. Did that man just make no noise at all when he walked?

"Where?" Harry mouthed back. His professor just rolled his eyes before walking silently but purposefully across the room to the only other door. Harry pouted, there was no need for him to be so... Snape about it. The potions master meanwhile was busy rapping himself over the head with his wand. Before Harry's eyes the older man disappeared, only a slight haze in the air betraying his presence. The Gryffindor scowled.

"Show off," he muttered. There was a ripple in the air and the door was flung wide open. Bloody Snape... Harry thought as he hurriedly pointed his wand at the door. He had become so wound up on his way down to and up from the dungeons that he was half-expecting to find Moody standing over three bodies. But instead he found himself (and Snape too, he supposed, although the wand wielders weren't aware of it) at wand point. Three wand points, to be precise.

The inert form of Alastor Moody was slumped in a corner, a thin trickle of blood winding through the scars on his forehead and a blue-black bruise around his eye from Harry's fist. A second form of Alastor Moody was sat in a chair, with a blanket around his shoulders and a wand pointing at Harry. This moody was even more dishevelled than that first (unlikely though that seemed) with tufts of hair missing and an empty eye socket. The other two wands were those of Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin, both of whom had wary looks on their faces.

"Have you completed your task?" Dumbledore asked, fixing Harry with a piercing gaze and keeping his wand trained on the young Gryffindor.

"'Course," Harry replied, his eyes narrowing, "He's right..." Damn. Snape was still invisible. Of course they'd be cautious if he came back without the man he was sent to retrieve; they already had evidence of one imposter right in front of them, it wasn't too farfetched to think there might be another one. "Snape, stop making me look like a Death Eater in disguise and take that bloody spell off, damnit." For a second, nothing happened but then the air rippled between the three men and Harry and the intimidating potions professor appeared. Remus visibly sighed with relief and Dumbledore smiled slightly before lowering his wand.

"You have the veritaserum?" he asked, to which Snape nodded curtly. "Excellent. Sirius is fetching Madam Pomfrey as Alastor- The real Alastor that is- is in need of medical care." Moody snorted- evidently calling the mediwitch had not been his idea.

"How was the imposter found, headmaster?" Snape asked, attempting to appear nonchalant but failing to hide his curiosity.

"Harry," Dumbledore explained simply, a twinkle in his eyes. Snape, on the other hand, did not have a twinkle in his eyes as he rolled them at Harry.

"And how, pray tell, did you do it this time?" he asked, exasperation at the boy's uncanny ability to find trouble clear in his voice.

"I know the look a person gets when they're enjoying hurting someone. Years of Dudley and Voldemort have taught me that much at least," Harry drawled bitterly, glaring down at the imposter, "And that... thing fucking loved putting the imperious curse on me. All in the name of education, of course." Snape nodded curtly once more, his expression darkening.

"Dudley?" A voice asked from behind them. It was Sirius of course, out of breath with an equally panting Madam Pomfrey behind him. "What's Dudley got to do with it? What did that fat shit do to you, Harry?" Harry inwardly cursed himself; he'd been doing so well at not mentioning the Dursley's and what shits they were to Sirius, not wanting his godfather to make a big thing of it. He'd simply left it at 'they kicked me out', and so far Sirius had been so happy to be able to spend time with his godson that he hadn't asked further. Luckily, Dumbledore saved Harry, for now at least.

"I'm afraid that conversation may have to wait for another time, Sirius. We have an imposter to deal with at the moment," he said gently, gesturing towards the man on the floor. Everybody, bar Madam Pomfrey who was attempting to force a potion down the real Moody's throat, turned to look at him. The Polyjuice was beginning to wear off, and they all stared with morbid fascination as the imposter's visage began to bubble and change. He stretched out, becoming both thinner and taller than he had been before and his shoulder length hair receded back into his scalp at a rapid pace. Scars faded from his face and his chin became more pointed. The magical eye popped out and rolled across the floor and the wooden leg was pushed off as the real leg grew back in. It was disgusting to watch, but within minutes a young, sandy haired man with a disturbing similarity to Mr Crouch appeared.

"Barty Crouch Jr.," Moody spat out, swatting away Madam Pomfrey's continued attempts to fuss over him.

"He died," Sirius whispered, "I saw them take his body away. I saw them bury him." Harry looked at his godfather with concern; his time in Azkaban had been another of those things that they simply hadn't spoken about. This time, it was mainly because Harry hated the look Sirius got when he thought of that place. Sure enough the usually bubble man's eyes had taken on a haunted look and he appeared to have aged ten years in less than a minute. He stopped standing up so straight, his confidence draining out of him, and a shiver passed over the ex-convict's frame. Many people wondered why Sirius was so sane and happy after thirteen years in that place, and many others attributed his good mood to having Harry back in his life, but the truth was that he simply didn't think about it. He had pushed the experience away deep into the recesses of his mind, ignoring the last thirteen years and instead reverting back to how he had been before his arrest. It was only at times like this that Harry remembered how much it had affected his godfather.

Without a word, Harry moved across the room to stand behind Sirius, placing a hand on the older man's shoulder and squeezing slightly, silently showing his support. Dumbledore watched the two with a grave expression, guilt bearing heavy on his mind. How could he have not pushed for a trial? But no, there were more pressing matters to attend to right now- he could wallow in guilt later, when the mystery was solved and his students were safe.

"Severus, the veritaserum, if you will," he said quietly. Snape nodded jerkily and silently pulled a tiny vial of clear liquid from the folds of his robes. It was one of many potions that he always carried around with him, for one could never know when they might be useful. Very carefully, he let three drops of the potion fall onto the unconscious man's tongue and stepped back again, reclaiming his place at the doorway. Before Dumbledore could enervate the imposter, Remus spoke.

"You should be disillusioned when he awakes, Severus. Just in case." Harry looked confusedly between the two but the professor merely nodded in agreement before rapping himself over the head with his wand again. When Snape had again disappeared from view, the headmaster stepped into the centre of the room and, with a muttered 'enervate', awoke Barty Crouch Jr.

"What is your name?" Dumbledore's voice sounded cold and commanding and his eyes flashed with disgust as he looked down at the young man on the floor. Harry realised for the first time why Voldemort and his Death Eaters were afraid of Dumbledore- he wasn't always the omniscient grandfather figure that Harry knew.

"Bartemius Crouch Jr." the man said, his expression strangely blank. It looked similar to the effects of the imperius curse, Harry thought with no little satisfaction.

The questioning went on for over an hour before Sirius snapped and stunned the young Death Eater. He had told them everything. He, Pettigrew and Voldemort had attacked and kidnapped Mad-Eye Moody, put the imperius curse on Crouch Sr., infiltrated Hogwarts, put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire and made sure that he would be made a champion. They had planned to use the disguise of Moody to gain Harry's trust and guide him into winning the tournament, at which point the Triwizard cup would be turned into a portkey to take Harry to Voldemort. The Dark Lord would then use Harry's blood to rise again. Trelawney's prophecy swam through Harry's mind; 'more powerful than ever before..."

"We need to call the Aurors," Remus said breaking the silence and interrupting Harry's brooding thoughts. Remus's voice sounded calm, but you could easily see signs of his agitation in the wand that was gripped tightly and in the flash of amber that shot through his eyes. It was Sirius who, after a moment's hesitation, sent a patronus to the Aurors, telling the silvery dog to go straight to Kingsley and ask him to bring back up.

"Anyone mind if I smoke?" Harry asked as everyone stood around, waiting. Not even Madam Pomfrey paid him any attention; she was in too much shock to reprimand such a bad habit. Shrugging slightly, Harry lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag and trying to calm his temper.

That bastard was going to use me... use my blood... fuck... I will not be responsible for that bloody shit coming back...

They all waited in silence for the Aurors to arrive, during which time Snape took off the disillusionment spell and Madam Pomfrey, having managed to force Moody to take his potions, excused herself to return to her office where a large gin and tonic awaited her.

To say that Kingsley and the accompanying Aurors were shocked to see Crouch Jr would be an understatement, but with hurried professionalism they whisked him off to the ministry. Dumbledore and Moody accompanied them to give statements- the rest of them were told that if their accounts were needed then they would be called on the next day. Before long it was only Harry, Sirius, Remus and Snape left in the room.

Sirius moved first, letting out a great breath of air and running his hand through his hair.

"I need a fucking drink. Pub, anyone?" he asked, receiving grateful nods from Remus and Harry (who had conveniently forgotten that he was a student and therefore not allowed off school grounds to go to the pub).

"You coming, professor?" Harry asked as they turned to leave. It was a measure of just how shocked and exhausted they all were that Snape agreed and Sirius didn't complain.

Perhaps there was hope for some people after all.

"I was going anyway," Snape said silkily as he swept out of the door.

Perhaps not, then.