Harry had the most stressful week of his life at Hogwarts while he waited for Barty's decision.
First, Neville was stubbornly saying he would kill Barty if he could. Which- was fair. Neville's Gran didn't exactly sound like a joy to be raised by, so Neville had cause to want revenge.
So then Harry hoped that Snape would be able to say that Barty would never have cast a single curse at the Longbottom. But instead, he said Barty hadn't been able to cast the Unforgivables when he knew him. Which was wildly unhelpful since all of the fourth years at Hogwarts had seen Barty cast all three Unforgivables in their classes.
Snape also said there was a chance Neville had the power the Dark Lord knew not, which was annoying. But Harry was pretty sure it was still him, and not Neville, that the prophecy talked about. After all, Snape was right, Timmy hadn't marked Neville.
So Harry had left Snape's office that day with a huge choice to make-
Neville or Barty.
Neville was loyal. He was one of the first of Harry's friends to officially join the gang. He was a good addition to the gang- he always kept a clear head and thought logically.
Logic he refused to apply to Harry's current dilemma.
"If Barty Crouch was alive then I'd kill him with my bare hands," Neville hissed when Harry posed the question hypothetically to him during dinner one night.
"What if he's a genius? Wouldn't it be good to have him on our side instead of Timmy's?"
"Sure, let's add Pettigrew too then," Neville said in the harshest tone Harry had ever heard the Gryffindor boy use.
They hadn't talked to each other for two days after that comment.
"Why don't you just write Susan's aunt and ask her for the court transcripts of the Longbottom trial?" Draco asked him when Harry was bemoaning about how he could decipher who did what to Neville's parents.
Which turned out to be a brilliant idea. It hadn't answered Harry's question of who cast what, but it was just the trick Harry needed at the moment. And with only three days left until Barty had to give Harry his decision, it hadn't come a moment too soon.
Amelia sent Harry a bottled memory and Harry immediately asked Mavis to bring him his pensieve from home.
Harry watched the memory and when he emerged- he was beaming.
Either Barty was a brilliant actor, or he hadn't been involved.
Harry didn't care much one way or another; this was just finally how he could convince Neville to give Barty a second chance.
"Nev, come with me," Harry snagged a very reluctant Neville from the dinner table and rushed him to his dorm that same night.
"What is it now?" Neville sighed, not sounding angry, but certainly not happy either.
"I need to show you something important," Harry said. "Did you ever see the memory of the trial for your parents?"
Neville's eyes went round and his face paled the slightest amount.
"N-no," he stammered. "Why?"
"Because I think Barty was innocent," Harry told him as he quickly locked the dorm door. "You have to watch this."
Neville eyed Harry's pensieve with apprehension.
"Please?" Harry grit his teeth to say that, but he needed Neville to watch it if he was going to keep him in the gang once Barty agreed to join.
If Barty agreed to join.
Neville squared his shoulders and nodded just once. Harry had a brief flash of appreciation for the stubborn Gryffindor courage.
"Just stick your head in," Harry said, "and watch."
The two boys entered the memory together and Harry watched Neville closely as Neville watched the proceedings.
"Thats Barty, Crouch's son," Harry murmured, pointing at the pale, terrified, and openly sobbing teenager in front of them. "He was only a couple years older than us. Snape said his Dad abused him."
Harry would never typically tell someone a secret about someone else's crummy childhood like that, but he really needed Neville to feel bad for Barty. Harry was sure it would be the only way to convince him to let Barty join the gang.
Neville's lower lip trembled when Bellatrix, looking every bit the mad witch everyone had described, taunted the court about the Dark Lord rising again. But when Mister Crouch screamed that Barty wasn't his son as his wife and child both wept, Neville's eyes took on a hard look.
"He sent his son to Azkaban, and he didn't even have proof that he'd cursed my parents," Neville said softly when they'd returned to the dorm. He looked up at Harry with stricken eyes. "What kind of parent does that?"
"A terrible one," Harry said solemnly. "So what do you think? Do you think Barty was involved?"
Neville looked years older when he shook his head and frowned.
"I think an innocent man died in Azkaban," he said seriously.
Harry kept his expression solemn, mimicking the one on Neville's face, but on the inside? He was cheering harder than he ever had before.
One problem solved.
***
Three days later, after dinner, Harry knocked on the defense professor's office door, and prepared himself to resolve his other lingering problem.
Either Barty was joining his gang today, or Harry was going to kill him.
He was ready for either option.
'Moody' opened the office door and stared down at Harry for a long, long, moment.
"Get in here then," he eventually grunted. Harry stood with his back to the closed office door and sent a silencing charm to it; no matter the outcome of Barty's decision- Harry didn't need anyone to overhear it.
"Have you decided?" Harry said coolly. "Because it's been a week."
Barty fixed his eyes on Harry's face and said nothing, but he also sat down, which meant he was either an incredible idiot or-
"I'll join."
"Why?" Harry asked curiously.
"Does it matter?" Barty asked, and Harry could tell he wasn't even trying to pretend to be Moody anymore. His pronunciation (a posh word Harry learned from the Contessa) was more similar to Theo's than the hardened Scottish auror he had been imitating.
"It does to me," Harry said. "I need to know why you want to join, or I don't know if I can ever trust you."
Harry wouldn't trust him; not like he did Snape and Susan and Luna and Theo. But if Barty was going to be another Wixen in Harry's gang for the upcoming fights against Timmy and Dumbledore- he had to understand his motivations. Understanding someone's thoughts and feelings was just as important as Snape had tried to convince him before. If you knew what they were thinking and feeling, you could find a way to make them fit those thoughts and feelings to your own goals.
"I..." Barty's eyes both flicked around the room, the rapid spinning of the magical one making Harry feel nauseous. "I would be the Dark Lords most favored follower. I would be his right hand in his war against impurities. But... but I'd rather be free. I spent years in Azkaban, and then..."
Harry stayed patiently quiet, one hand gripped on his penknife and the other ready to catch his dagger, as he waited to hear Barty's story.
"It was my father you know," Barty said in a hoarse whisper. "My mother convinced him to break me out. So we, my mother and I, traded places. She was dying. It was her dying wish to have me freed. She never believed I did what they accused me of."
Harry absolutely was not going to ask if he has or not.
"And he loved her like he could never love me. So she took my spot in Azkaban, and I took hers at home. I thought it would be better than Azkaban, anything's better than the dementors-"
Harry nodded absently, even the thought of dementors made his blood freeze and his heart race.
It didn't help that he still couldn't produce a damn patronus.
"-but it wasn't," Barty continued. "He staged my mother's death, shortly after my mother actually died in Azkaban and was buried under my name. And then... then he kept me under the imperious. Just... just constantly under his control. Do you have any idea what it's like to live like that?"
Harry could see the desperation in Barty's normal eye, but he could only shrug. The imperious didn't work on him.
"Of course you don't," Barty chuckled, but he didn't sound happy. He sounded desperate still. "It's... it's worse than death. Someone in your mind, constantly, telling you what to do, what to think, how to behave... it's terrible."
Harry didn't allow himself to react visibly to that, but he thought it did sound terrible. It wasn't freedom for Barty after Azkaban at all. It was just magical enslavement.
Done by his own father.
"Then what?" Harry asked calmly when Barty stopped talking.
"Then I started to fight it," Barty said with a nervous lick of his lips. "I saw you, you know. I saw you at the World Cup."
"Your Dad let you go to the World Cup?" Harry asked skeptically.
"Under the imperious, with a house elf babysitter, and hidden beneath an invisibility cloak," Barty said. "But I- I broke the imperious. In the Top Box. For the first time in years, I was myself again."
"And you stole Neville's wand, didn't you?" Harry guessed, thinking back to the oddity at the Quidditch match. "That was his dads, you fuckin' prat."
"I didn't know," Barty licked his lip again. "I just saw a wand, and I took it. And then that night, I was in my fathers tent, and I heard them. The Death Eaters," his face took on a furious scowl. "The ones who never had to go to Azkaban. The ones who lied and denied our Master. The free ones. And... and I saw them fighting you," his eyes flicked up at Harry and his normal one looked almost impressed. "And I thought then, that you were a good fighter. But I saw Sev too, and he was protecting you. Protecting you in the way he'd never protected me when I needed him to the most."
It took Harry a long second to realize that 'Sev' meant Snape.
And Merlin was Harry going to taunt him with that. He bet Snape would hate to be called Sev.
"What'd you do?" Harry asked Barty.
"I sent up the dark mark, I wanted to scare every free Death Eater there. And then... then I saw you kill Avery. And I could see that Sev was going to take the fall for you... and I was furious. Sev was supposed to be my friend, my brother, and there he was- sending you to safety after never sparing a thought for me back when I'd been arrested. But then I was stunned- and my father found me again," he spat.
"He took me back home and kept trying to put me under the curse. But it wouldn't stick. I was getting more and more powerful. And then, finally, the Dark Lord found me."
"Timmy," Harry corrected him. "If you're in the gang, you call him Timmy. Only Death Eaters call him the Dark Lord."
Barty's normal eye bulged and he licked his lip, but Harry hid a smug grin when he hesitantly said;
"T-Timmy then... Timmy found me."
If he was willing to call him Timmy, then he really did want to join Harry.
"And what did Timmy do? Did he free you?" Harry said softly. "Did he kill your father for what he did to you?"
"He gave me a mission," Barty said softly, almost reverently. "He said if I pulled it off... that I'd be the greatest of all his followers."
"What was the mission? Impersonate Moody? And then what?"
"Enter you in the Triwizard Tournament, and transport you to him so your blood could be used to revive him to his body."
Harry didn't let himself show any surprise, but he did blink a few times.
"He doesn't have a body?" Harry asked him. "How's he doing things then?"
"He's a... a human like creature," Barty said slowly, furrowing Moody's thick brows down as he said it. "But not a full human. He needs a potion to be brewed after the full moon in June to restore himself. And he needs you. His greatest foe."
Harry stuck his chest out and preened at that.
It was nice to be recognized as the greatest threat to a feared Dark Lord like Timmy. Hopefully Dumbledore thought of Harry the same way.
"Well you did me a real favor," Harry told Barty. "I wanted in the tournament but I couldn't figure it out. How'd you do it?"
"Powerful charms on the goblet made it think you were the only participant for a fourth school."
"But..." Harry blinked again. "But you didn't add anyone else?! Just me? So... I wasn't really chosen then, was I?"
"I wasn't exactly trying to give you glory Potter," Barty said with a small huff. "I just needed you to be chosen. So then you could win and be taken to the Dar- to T-Timmy."
"Damn it," Harry grumbled. "Okay, well, how was I supposed to be taken to him?"
"You'd touch the trophy and it would portkey you to the ritual site," Barty explained. "He'd have Pettigrew use your blood, the blood of an enemy, to finish the potion, he'd be at full power again, and then he would kill you."
"Brill," Harry smiled slowly. "So what you're saying is when I win- I can kill Timmy and Pettigrew in the same night?"
This time it was Barty who blinked disbelievingly at Harry.
"Or I don't turn the trophy in to a portkey, you don't go to the ritual, he stays in his weakened form, and you live."
Harry hummed thoughtfully.
"'Blood of an enemy'?" Harry repeated. "He could use anyone's. Then he'd be alive and I would miss my chance to kill him."
Barty frowned, "He could use someone else's blood, but he wants yours. I don't think he'd rush to use another's unless he absolute had to."
"I need to talk it over with my gang, but this sounds like the perfect time to kill Timmy and Pettigrew in my opinion," Harry said thoughtfully.
"But... but I'm in? I don't have to report back to the Da- to Timmy?" Barty asked hesitantly.
Harry laughed coolly and cocked his head at Barty.
"You have to swear yourself to me first," he said with a smirk. "An Oath of Fealty with the punishment of death if you break it."
"I..." Barty licked his lips a few times before he nodded. "Yes, of course."
Harry watched with grim amusement as Barty took the same oath that Malfoy did. And when he was done, Harry smiled at him.
"When are you supposed to make your next report?" he asked.
"I don't know," Barty said, his eyes less wary now that he's taken the oath. Maybe he had been worried Harry would change his mind about letting him join and just kill him? It was a rational enough fear. "I go when he calls."
Harry nodded while he thought it through.
"Here's what you do then; if he calls you, find me, no matter what, and tell me."
It hurt Harry to do it, but Barty would die if he betrayed Harry, so he handed over his map and explained how to use it.
"This... Merlin... did you make this?" Barty asked, his eyes flickering all across the map.
"Kinda," Harry lied. "But if he calls you, you'll be able to find me. If I'm in class just say you found a student I cursed or something and I'm in trouble, nobody will question it."
"And-" Harry smiled as he considered his additional order for Barty. "And you'll be giving Neville full points on all his assignments from now on. Got it? Stay as Moody until I decide what I'm doing with you."
Barty bowed his head at Harry and murmured, "Yes Master."
Which, Harry decided as he made his way to Snape's office, was a decent enough title for Barty to use for now.
"Barty Crouch Junior. I've just made him swear himself to me and my causes. He's in the gang."
Harry watched with interest as Snape's face uncharacteristically showed a quick change between multiple emotions, before finally settling on exhaustion.
"Harry, have you been drinking?" he sighed. "Drugs? Illicit potions?"
"No," Harry chuckled and made sure Snape's office was warded. "Barty, your friend, he's alive Snape. And now he's in the gang. Isn't that brill? Hey! When's your birthday? This should actually count as your gift."
Snape did not look like he thought this counted as a gift. So Harry went ahead and summoned a pain relieving potion and kindly handed it to him.
"You're gonna need this," he said as he plopped down in his seat. "Listen to this-"
Harry told Snape about how Barty's Dad broke him out of prison and put him under the imperious curse.
Which was the least surprising thing Harry had ever heard really. It was always cops and other officials involved in law enforcement who broke the laws the most.
Then he told Snape about Barty seeing them at the World Cup and how he was the one who shot off the dark mark. He filled Snape in on almost everything.
He carefully left out the plans to portkey Harry to Timmy at the third task. It seemed like the kind of thing that Snape would be pissed about.
"How...?" Snape breathed. "How did you learn of this?"
"Moody," Harry said simply. "It's Barty. He's under polyjuice."
Snape exhaled sharply and Harry could see him thinking quickly.
"My missing ingredients, he's been stealing them," he growled as he jumped to his feet. "Son of a bitch Potter. How long have you known that an escaped Death Eater was teaching defense?! And where is the true Alastor Moody?!"
"Second week," Harry smirked. "Told you Moody used to be a follower of Timmy, didn't I? And I was right. Kind of. Don't go scaring him off now, I ordered him to stay. And... er... I dunno, I didn't think to ask that," Harry shrugged. The real Moody wasn't really his problem. "But Barty's sworn to me Snape. He's mine now. Timmy can't have him anymore."
"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?" Snape yelled, startling Harry to his own feet. "Potter you are intelligent; or, at a minimum, you have a working brain. Why would you not have informed me of this?!"
"What the fuck am I doing right now?" Harry asked, sticking his hand in his pocket for the calming grip of his penknife. "I needed to know if Barty was going to join us or die first, I didn't want you involved in case I had to kill your friend."
"How considerate," Snape sneered rather nastily. "Am I meant to congratulate you on your newest acquisition? Another converted Death Eater that Lord Potter has claimed as his own?"
"What the fuck?" Harry blinked at Snape and was honestly too surprised to be insulted.
Also, it wasn't much of an insult.
"Actually, you know what?" Harry yelled. "Yeah, a fuckin' thank you would be nice. I worked my arse off for this Snape. It's another person on my side, our side, and it's your friend! Why are you acting so mad?"
"This is yet another instance of your arrogance and need for secrecy leading you to dangerous situations!" Snape yelled, his teeth bared and nostrils flaring. "Did it occur to you that Barty could have killed you? Could have killed multiple children within the castle? That he is dangerous?"
"Not really, no," Harry shrugged. "He's been here the whole time, yeah? And he hasn't hurt anyone."
"Aside from you," Snape said. "He entered you in the tournament in an attempt to kill you on orders of the Dark Lord!"
Yeah... maybe that hadn't been the best cover story. But to be fair- it wasn't a lie either.
"Okay, hold on, but I'm not dying, I'm fine," Harry said in what he hoped was a soothing tone. Snape really looked furious. "I'm going to win Snape. I'm going to win the tournament and when Timmy comes back- I'll win against him too. Yeah?"
Snape released a heavy sigh and sank down in his chair. Harry slowly took his own seat as Snape buried his face in his hands.
"You are so convinced of your own invincibility... it will be your downfall Harry. I believe that I will inevitably lose you one day because of your arrogance."
Harry grimaced and shrugged, even though Snape couldn't see it. He wasn't really sure what he was supposed to say. He didn't think he was arrogant, but...
"All my life I thought I'd die," he said quietly. "At my relatives house I used to sit in the cupboard and cry like a baby because I was sure they'd kill me one day. And then on the streets I always thought 'today I could die'. Sometimes I'd have a broken something or a bleeding something and I'd think 'this is it for me', just another street kid nobody cared about. And at some point, I stopped caring if I died. But you- you came. And you..."
Harry felt his face heat up in embarrassment, but thought Snape might like to hear this so he said it anyway.
"You liked me. You acted like I mattered. I wasn't just a homeless orphan, or the kid of two addicts that didn't give a damn about him. You got me clothes, and a home, and... and you were my friend. Are my friend," he corrected himself. "And so I stopped thinking I was gonna die all the time. I figured, if I could find someone who liked me and wanted to be my friend, then I could live too. Could make a whole life for myself, yeah? I stopped just trying to get through the day and I started making plans. And maybe that's stupid of me, but now I've got plans and I don't want to die. So, yeah, maybe I do think I'm a bit invincible, but it's because I'm not going to let people make me think I'm going to die instead."
At some point in Harry's, quite painful to admit, rant, Snape had lifted his head from his hands and watched Harry with a soft look in his eyes.
"I-" Snape cleared his throat. "I am quite pleased at how much you have changed since I met you. And I am flattered to have been a catalyst to that change. I wish that your invincibility came with more restraint, or at least you would come to me before confronting an active Death Eater at Hogwarts with orders to end your life."
"Would you have let me?" Harry asked.
"I would not have."
"Here we are then," Harry grinned and was pleased when Snape grinned back, even if it looked rather strained.
"Here we are," Snape agreed. "Lord Potter and his ever growing troupe of converted Death Eaters."
"Wouldn't it be brill if I could convert more?" Harry said wistfully. "Just... just Timmy comes back and they're all mine. God, he'd be so mad."
Snape snorted and shook his head.
"I am beginning to believe that you have some sort of charismatic draw that people are attracted to," he said. "For now though, it is late. You have given me at least a dozen grey hairs," Harry looked carefully but didn't see any, "and I am exhausted. Can you make your way to bed without entering any other life threatening situations along the way?"
"Probably," Harry said, climbing to his feet at the blunt dismissal. "Maybe we should find a way that we can communicate in case I can't though. Ya know, so you don't get more grey hairs."
Harry was joking, but the look on Snape's face made him think that it might be a safe bet that Snape would find a way for them to communicate soon.
"Oh, hey," Harry paused in the doorway. "I didn't tell Barty that I was going to tell you he's Moody. So he might freak out if you go confronting him, yeah? Also... I think he's mad at you, maybe? I dunno. He seemed jealous of how we get along anyway. So... I dunno. I was thinking he'd stay with us this summer, maybe you guys could be friends again then? I just don't want anyone to find out he's Moody yet."
"Get out before I decide stunning you for the next three years is the only way I will survive," Snape groaned. "Goodnight Harry."
"Night," Harry called back cheerily.
Really that could have gone worse.
Snape would have been way angrier if he knew about Harry going to kill Timmy.
"Gang meeting after dinner," Harry murmured to his friends the next night during dinner. "Sorry Fred, Mione, members only."
"Am I still not a member?" Fred asked indignantly. "Harry, Darlin', what do I have to do to join?"
"Er..." Harry glanced at Theo who jerked his head in a motion that was neither a nod nor a shake. "It's... it's different than dating, like Ron said, yeah? What if... what if you broke up with me? Then you'd either still be in the gang and it would be awkward or you'd leave the gang and I'd have to kill you. It's weird."
"Hey," Fred leaned across the table and stared right in to Harry's eyes. "I'm not ever breaking up with you. And if you broke up with me, I would still want to be in the gang. You say Timmy's coming back and you're going to fight him? Then I want to fight too."
"Might as well add him," Susan murmured. "He's going to be even more annoying if you don't."
"Fine!" Harry cried, irritated now. "Fine. Okay. I don't owe favors and I'll kill you if you betray us-"
Harry wasn't actually sure he could kill Fred. But he'd maybe obliviate him.
"- deal?"
"Deal," Fred beamed. "Do we kiss on it?"
"No," Draco curled his nose up. "Absolutely not."
"Can I really not come because I don't want to join a gang?" Hermione said. "I thought we were all friends."
"We are," Susan said. "But the gang stuff is different. It's more..."
"More politics and warfare," Blaise said. "And we can't risk someone hearing about it."
Hermione crossed her arms and glared at Theo, as if it was Theo's gang or something.
"I said you should join," he murmured. "You're the one being weird."
"I am not being 'weird'," Hermione huffed. "Gangs are dangerous! They're like... like criminals!"
Harry chuckled at that.
"Well yeah," he said. "But we're not doing drugs and looting banks, are we? There's a war coming Mione, and Dumbledore and Timmy already have gangs to be on their sides. Why shouldn't I have one too?"
"You could join Timmy if you wanted," Neville grinned. "I'm sure he'd love to have the brightest witch of her age."
"Or Dumbledore," Ron added. "He probably lets anyone in."
"Oh I'm sure they'd love to have me, Harry Potter's friend, the muggleborn," Hermione snarled. "Or I could just not join any gangs and live."
"That's an option," Luna said kindly. "Except you'll join Harry's eventually anyway."
Harry winked appreciatively at Luna. Her nargles were never wrong. If she said Hermione would join, then she would.
"Fine," Hermione grumbled. "I'll join but I'm not killing anyone."
"We'll see about that," Susan whispered to Harry.
"Brill," Harry smiled at Hermione, happy she'd finally joined. "Then we'll just meet in my dorm tonight, yeah?"
After a few minutes, Draco speared a stalk of asparagus and held it up while he mused out loud;
"Do you guys think Greg and Vince have just moved in the third year dorm? They don't even grunt when we kick them out anymore."
Harry shrugged. He was pretty sure where Greg and Vince slept at night was another thing that fell in the category of not his fuckin' problem.
"Alright- vows first," Harry said that night once everyone grabbed a pillow and settled in to a spot on the floor. "Instead of doing one every time, why don't we just take a vow not to share any thing that I declare to be an official gang secret with anyone outside of this group?"
"And by 'we', you mean us, right?" Blaise smirked.
"Right," Harry said with a small smile. "Just sounded nicer the way I said it."
"What about my father?" Draco asked with his hand raised. "He's in the gang too, right?"
"That would be a secret," Harry rolled his eyes. "And no. Anyone who's a spy is someone we shouldn't share everything with. That's stupid. So vows or get out."
Most everyone took the vow easily enough, only Hermione and Neville looked nervous as they recited the words Harry laid out for them.
"Brill," Harry smiled. "'Kay, so, listen- there's a plan to bring Timmy back. And I'm going to go-"
Harry wasn't even able to finish speaking before everyone started talking.
'Have you lost your mind?!' was shouted more than once.
"SHUT UP!" Harry yelled. "Merlin. Let me fuckin' finish. So Timmy's still alive anyway, right?"
"How do you know?" Ron asked.
"I've got an inside source," Harry said evasively, deciding to keep Barty to himself for now. He didn't want his friends to start acting weird around him and setting off alarms in Dumbledore's head.
"So he's alive. But he's weak. So the plan is to kidnap me, use my blood to bring him back, and then he kills me. But here's what I'm thinking- they kidnap me, and I kill him. Brill, yeah?"
Apparently nobody agreed.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Hermione said. "He'll kill you Harry."
"Or I'll kill him before he even comes back," Harry said. "Pettigrew too. Just- bam. Two enemies, dead."
"And only Dumbledore left," Susan said wistfully.
Sometimes Harry thought Susan might want Dumbledore dead more than he did.
"Yep," he agreed. "But this could be the best chance to kill Timmy."
"Can you even kill him if he's not fully human?" Theo asked. "Do you have any idea how he's lived this long anyway? Or how to kill him for sure?"
"Er..." Harry mentally added it to a list of questions for Barty. "Not yet, but I'll find out. D'you think he'd survive an AK too?"
"He might," Fred said, uncharacteristically serious. "Nobody knows how you lived, do they?"
"My mothers love supposedly," Harry said. "But also might have been the power the Dark Lord knows not."
"We need to know how he lived," Ron said. "Then we can figure out how to kill him in a way that he can't come back again at some random point in the future."
Harry thought Ron's love of chess was good in situations like this- he was always thinking five moves ahead.
"'Kay, well... either way, at least I'll know where Pettigrew will be that night. So, at a minimum, I can kill him. And if Timmy calls his gang members, then I can kill them too."
"You're not going alone Harry James," Susan said, glaring at Harry. "I'm going too."
"Me too," Fred immediately said.
"And me," Theo said.
"Nobody else can go," Harry rolled his eyes. "They aren't gonna kidnap all of us, are they?"
Harry was also not telling them about the third task. Even though they'd taken a vow, he couldn't risk them finding a way to tell Snape.
"Look," he said, "this is my best chance to kill Timmy before he can start killing other people. He could just use someone else's blood to come back and then he'd have the element of surprise, yeah? Instead, I'll be there. And I can stop him. Before he kills anyone else's parents," he glanced at Susan, "or wipes out muggleborns," he glanced at Theo and Mione, "or blood traitors," here he looked at Ron and Fred. "If I can stop him before he even gets going- that's what I should do."
And if it took care of Harry's personal revenge- then all the better.
"What's Snape say?" Theo asked. "I'm sure he wouldn't want you to go."
"He doesn't know," Harry shrugged. "And you all vowed not to tell him, soooo... so I suppose he'll know when it's done, won't he?"
"I don't like it," Fred said.
"Me either," added Susan.
"You could die," Draco added quietly.
"Lue, you're not saying much," Harry noticed. "What do you think? Am I going to die if I go?"
Luna closed her eyes and hummed for a moment before she opened them and shook her head.
"You won't die in a graveyard in June," she smiled softly.
"That's that then," Harry said. "So I go, I kill Timmy and then I come back."
"Why did you call us here if you weren't going to listen to our opinions?" Hermione asked.
"Er... I did listen?" Harry said. "But nobody had a real good reason why I shouldn't go besides 'I could die' and Lue says I won't."
"You're stubborn and I hate you," Susan huffed. "What's the worst case scenario?"
"Timmy uses my blood, comes back to life, kills me, and then rules the world," Harry said. "But Lue says I won't die. So second worst case would be he comes back and I don't kill him. But, like I said, he could use anyone's blood to come back so even if I don't go that could happen. In fact, I think it's more likely to happen if I don't go."
"Are you flying?" Theo asked quietly.
"Nope. Not for months now," Harry admitted. He didn't tell him that he missed it, missed the way his blood would move a little quicker, his thoughts came faster, and the world seemed brighter- that would just make him sound mad.
Not that he didn't sound mad anyway apparently. The rest of the gang stared at the three of them with confusion clear on their faces.
"Well... if that's that then, let's just stun Harry and keep him in a closet until we find out where Timmy is," Fred grinned. "All in favor?"
Harry scoffed when they all raised their hands.
"Bastards," he murmured.
Thankfully, Harry was sure they couldn't land a stunner on him, and they knew he'd kill them if they did.
***
Lupin,
Sorry I forgot to write. It's been a busy couple of weeks. Thanks for not telling Snape. Everything's calmed down now. Classes are still boring. Training with Snape has been fun though, I think it's good for him to spend an hour throwing curses at me to dodge. Mione said it's therapeutic. And I've been working with Fleur and Viktor too. We agreed to work on different magic together until we find out what the third task is this weekend then we'll train separate.
Tell Sirius to quit bugging me, I'll tell him what the third task is when I find out.
I don't really have much I can say, so I guess that's it.
I'll write when I find out what the task is.
-Harry
***
Harry kept a careful eye on Barty during the next week, but he was pleased to see that he was acting like Moody as usual.
And Neville had never been happier.
"An O!" he cried, brandishing an essay towards them at dinner one night. "My first O in defense!"
Harry smirked up at the Head Table, at least Barty was following orders.
Finally, in the last week of May, Professor McGonagall held him back in Transfiguration.
"You are to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine o'clock, Harry," she told him with a soft smile. "Mr. Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task."
So at half past eight that night, Harry left his friends in the Slytherin common room, vaguely promising to tell them about the task when he got back. As he crossed the entrance hall, Diggory came up from the Hufflepuff common room.
"What d'you reckon it's going to be?" he asked Harry as they went together down the stone steps, out into the cloudy night. "Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels; she reckons we've got to find treasure."
"Dunno," Harry said shortly.
They walked down the dark lawn to the Quidditch stadium in silence. They turned through a gap in the stands, and walked out onto the field.
"What've they done to it?" Diggory said indignantly, stopping dead.
The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.
"They're hedges," said Harry, bending to examine the nearest one.
"Hello there!" called a nearby voice.
Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Viktor and Fleur. Harry and Diggory made their way toward them, climbing over the hedges. Fleur beamed at Harry as he came nearer.
"'Arry," she kissed his cheek in the way Harry had begrudgingly become accustomed to. "'Ow are you?"
"Since yesterday? Fine," he laughed. Fleur was as bad as Susan with the hovering lately.
"Well, what d'you think?" said Bagman, gesturing to the hedges. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, spotting the less-than-happy expressions on Harry's and Diggory's faces, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"
No one spoke for a moment. Then —
"Maze," grunted Viktor.
"That's right!" said Bagman. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."
"We seemply 'ave to get through the maze?" said Fleur.
"There will be obstacles," said Bagman. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures . . . then there will be spells that must be broken . . . all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champion who is leading on points will get a head start into the maze." Bagman nodded at Harry. "Then Mr Diggory will enter, then Mr. Krum, then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"
Harry nodded eagerly. It sounded like fun. Just a whole maze where he could tear through obstacles and traps. Like first year all over again.
"Very well... if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly..."
Harry laughed as Bagman all but ran to the castle, Diggory following behind at a more leisurely pace. Bagman was a bloody coward. Harry didn't believe in the Hogwarts house division nonsense, but he'd still bet that Bagman wasn't a Gryffindor when he was a student.
"Would you like me to walk with you 'Arry?" Fleur asked with a warm smile.
"Nah," Harry waved her off. "I'll see you later. I guess it's every wixen for themselves now?"
"Oui," Fleur winked. "May ze best person win."
"May the best person win," Harry agreed, with every intent on being that person. "Night Fleur, Viktor."
Harry watched the other two champions walk off together before he slowly made his way back to the castle, his mind whirling with ideas for the upcoming task.
A maze full of creatures and traps won't be difficult... he thought. Maybe they'll put another dragon in? Can I summon my sword from my dorm? Maybe I should see if it shrinks and just take it with me? Will they even check us for knives?
Harry wasn't going to go kill Timmy without his sword. That would be mad.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts and plans for the task and Timmy, that he almost didn't notice the man that staggered out to him from behind a tall oak. For a moment, Harry didn't recognize him... then he realized it was Crouch.
Crouch Senior.
He looked as though he had been traveling for days. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face scratched; he was unshaven and gray with exhaustion. His neat hair and mustache were both in need of a wash and a trim. His strange appearance, however, was nothing to the way he was behaving. Muttering and waving wildly with his hands, Crouch appeared to be talking to someone that he alone could see. He reminded Harry vividly of the old drunk tramps that would stagger along the alleys at night.
"Well, well, well," Harry murmured. "I've been hoping we'd meet again."
Crouch didn't look at him, but instead continued to talk to a nearby tree.
". . . and when you've done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve. . . ."
Harry frowned, unsure what was wrong with him.
"Petrify," he murmured, watching as the man fell to the ground. "I'll be back," he told him with a cold smile. "I have to get your son first though. Wouldn't be fair without him, would it?"
Harry kicked Crouch in the ribs once, just for good measure, before he began jogging back to the castle.
"Moody!" he panted, almost smacking in to the very man he was looking for just inside the castle doors. "C'mon, there's-"
"Crouch, I know," Barty grunted, stomping quickly towards where Harry left his dad. "Saw him on that map."
"I would have killed him, but I figured you'd want to," Harry said quietly as he led Barty to the spot by the forest where he'd been. "I will though, if you want. Killed Theo's Dad, didn't I?"
Barty turned his head and gave Harry a peculiar look.
"Theodore Nott Senior?" he asked, dropping Moody's grunting voice as they got further from the castle.
"Yup," Harry said. "I told you; I take care of my people. If you're mine, then you can tell me anyone who caused you pain before and they'll be done for, won't they?"
Barty chuckled, and his airier chuckle sounded weird coming from Moody's mouth.
"I bet Sev has no idea what to do with you," he said.
"Fuck, I forgot I was going to call him that," Harry grumbled. Although, maybe it was best that he didn't during their last conversation. Snape had been pretty pissed at him at that point.
Not that it had lasted long. Since their spat Snape had just started finding Harry once a day, usually at dinner, and asking for the details of his day. Harry figured he was trying to make sure Harry didn't have any more secrets, which he mostly didn't.
Mostly.
At a minimum, he hadn't told Snape any lies. Just... an omission of certain details.
"Here he is," Harry nudged Crouch with his boot as they came up to the body and took a step back as Barty glared down at his father.
"How does it feel?" Barty murmured to him. "To be under someone else's control? To be a slave to their every whim? Huh? How does it feel?!" he spat. Harry stayed quiet while Barty verbally unloaded on his dads petrified body. Harry wished he had a chance to scream at every person who had ever caused him pain.
Maybe he could make a list this summer.
"What do we do with him?" Barty asked. "The Dark Lord-"
"Timmy."
"Timmy," Barty corrected himself, "won't be happy if he's gone. It might mess with his plans. But... but if he's not able to be imperioused anymore, then Timmy will have Pettigrew kill him anyway."
"Do you want Pettigrew to kill him or me?" Harry asked, eyeing the man on the ground with disgust.
"I'll do it," Barty said, surprising Harry. "He's- well, I should do it."
"'Kay." Harry took a couple more steps back and looked around the grounds cautiously. They were still empty, but he went ahead and put up a corporeal privacy shield, just in case, before he nodded at Barty.
"Go ahead."
Harry didn't know what he expected, but Barty glaring down at his fathers wide, terrified, eyes and snarling-
"Avada Kedavra!"
-just wasn't it.
"That's it?!" Harry asked after the flash of green ended the light in the older man's eyes forever. "Everything he did to you- and you just killed him with the least painful curse ever?!"
Barty looked up at him in surprise.
"Well how'd you kill Nott?" he demanded.
"Vein vaporizing curse," Harry said easily. "And, from the way he screamed, it was super painful. Then I burnt his body to ashes with fiendfyre."
"Bloody hell," Barty's mouth gaped open. "You're... that's evil."
"Ta," Harry grinned. "He deserved worse. But what do we do with him? Toss him in the lake?"
"No, he'd float if none of the creatures ate him," Barty said quietly. "Here-" he murmured a spell Harry didn't know, and Harry laughed to see his fathers body transform in to a bone.
"Feed him to Fang or bury him?" Harry asked.
"Bury him," Barty said. "Imagine if the spell wore off before Fang digested him."
Harry laughed again and was glad to have Barty in the gang. Not only was he a genius, but funny too.
"Why don't you go inside?" Barty said. "I can bury him. Your friends are probably waiting."
"'Kay," Harry agreed. "Good work then."
Barty let out a bark of a laugh before bowing his head in Harry's direction.
"Night," Harry called, dispelling the privacy shield, and turning smack dab in to the very angry chest of...
Severus Snape...
The very angry chest of Severus Snape clutching the activated Marauders Map.
Fuck.