The Madness of Mr. Crouch
DRACO MALFOY: FRIEND OR FOE?
This was the headline that met the Quartets eyes as soon as they sat down at Gryffindor table the next morning, and it took even less for Hermione to rip it from Seamus’ hands, smack him on the head with it, smack Dean beside him for good measure, then rip it in two and toss it behind her in pieces. Didn’t mean they were free from hearing what the thing had been about, however.
As expected, Rita Skeeter had wasted no time in giving the public the latest juicy news on the Tournament, now changing tactics and focusing on Draco for once--which the blonde had shrugged off and said was inevitable--and ranting on about how Harry shouldn’t trust him and he was bound to stab him in the back, using an unbelievable amount of quotes from the Slytherin gang Malfoy used to helm. Only a small paragraph at the bottom had mentioned catching Hermione holding hands and giggling with Ronald Weasley, something that the Gryffindor’s wouldn’t let the two live down all week for.
But they had more important things to focus on. Namely, the inevitable response from the Malfoy’s for the way their son had been treated both in the Daily Prophet and the Task.
“If they came to scream at Dumbledore for putting me up against dragons, even when we came out with top marks,” Draco had said one day that week in Potions, returning with a usual one hundred grade taped to his cauldron. “Then I bet by Merlin they’re riding the train to Hogwarts right now.”
After class, Harry was writing a letter to Sirius in the Common Room while Draco wrote the paper down in the Room of Requirement, when Hermione suddenly pranced up to him and declared, “I want to write to Sirius.”
He was about to ask why, but his eyes traveled to a book tucked in her arms labeled--Animagi: The Real Truth and he got the general feeling that this might have to do with Rita, whom she had ordered her male friends to stay away from her research on, and so he gave in with a sigh and handed her spare parchment, and she sat down and wrote as well.
Meanwhile Ron looked up from his homework, glanced between them, shrugged, then went back to scribbling.
The next morning the Gryffinor trio marched down the grounds to the Owlery to mail Sirius his letters, but had to pay for a Hogwarts owl since Hedwig hadn’t yet returned with her response letter from Percy, who they had written to as Sirius had suggested after speaking with him. Come to think of it, it was quite strange she hadn’t returned yet, even with Percy returning to the school for the Third Task, but the kids hadn’t given it much thought with everything else going on.
What did catch their attention, however, as Harry gazed out at the castle grounds beyond the window lazily, was the familiar visage of the Hogwarts Express chugging down tracks between trees and across the bridge over the water, and with a look to his friends he could see they’d seen it too, and without another word they were bolting out of the Owlery and bounding across the grass with great strides down to the forest, Harry leading, as he knew that Draco always visited the Forest nowadays on the weekends, secretly riding his new Unicorn friend to blow off steam.
However, today, it seemed Mr. Malfoy didn’t need any warning, as he was currently sitting perched on a tree branch at the edge of the forest, arms crossed as he leaned against the trunk, frowning at the place where the station would be if it was visible.
“Told you it was inevitable.” Draco called down without looking, simply dropping from the branch onto solid ground and sulking off up to the castle. “C’mon. We should stop them before they kill Dumbledore.” The trio glanced at each other one last time, then followed Draco back up to the castle.
-*-*-*-
“You shouldn’t be here.” While Narcissa Malfoy had, as before, been overjoyed to see her son, Draco had barely hugged back and only mumbled this into her robes, before stepping back and nodding to his father. “Hello father. What are you two doing here?”
“Providing support on the Minister’s behalf.” Lucius responded coolly as Narcissa circled her son and attempted to touch the patch on the back of his skull, but he batted her hand away, eyes fixed on his father. “Really? You sure you aren’t here for my Headmaster’s head?” Narcissa frowned, glancing up at her husband in worry as he bit the inside of his cheek to stop from making some smart retort. Because though he wanted to, there was the truth that they were mostly here to see if he was okay.
“Draco I…” He paused, then shook his head, straightening and shrugging his shoulders, gesturing with his cane to the door. “We really must be off. Cornelius?”
Draco barely had any time to scowl at how his father had so easily brushed him aside when he looked behind his parents shoulders and saw the Minister of Magic himself ascending the steps to the entrance hall doors, taking off his usual lime-green bowler hat and smiling welcomingly at the Malfoy boy as he got closer.
“Hello, Mr. Malfoy, I believe we’ve met before. How are you?” Draco closed his gaping mouth quickly, and scowled at last, barely managing to say, “I’m fine.” through gritted teeth.
“Splendid!” Fudge exclaimed, either believing it or thinking he and the two other Malfoy’s were in too much of a hurry to talk more. “Shall we be off then, Lucius? Narcissa?” Lucius smiled something ugly and nodded, beginning to walk the Minister towards the doors. “Of course.”
Narcissa held back for a moment to squeeze her son’s hand and kiss his cheeks, whispering, “Be safe.” before stepping inside after them. The large doors shut with a bang, and in that same moment a trio of Gryffindor’s tumbled out from inside the hedge they’d been hiding in, coughing up green leaves and gasping for air while Draco stood frozen, shoulders hunched, staring at the ground as if it had wronged him.
After they’d gotten a hold of themselves, Harry stepped away from his friends and to his blonde one, placing a hand on his shoulder and glaring up at the doors. “I’m sorry, Draco, but we shouldn’t be worried. There’s nothing they can do to Dumbledore they haven’t already tried to do.”
“Yeah, Dumbledore’s never leaving this place. You should know that. Your dad already has been trying to get rid of him for all your life!” Hermione slapped Ron’s shoulder then shook her head. “Boys, I don’t think this is just about Dumbledore.”
“I don’t either.” Draco turned around slowly to face them, face downcast and darkened by the showder of the castle. “The Minister wouldn’t be here to yell at Dumbledore, this must be something else. Maybe…” He raised his head to the castle, then turned to his friends, serious. “This has to be about Mr. Crouch, right? Senior. He was last seen on castle grounds. Fudge is killing two birds with one stone while making my parents happy and figuring out where his worker is.”
Hermione’s eyes went wide. “That’s… actually pretty smart. Draco I… I didn’t know you had it in you.” She said, to which Draco frowned, looking like his usual, annoyed self again. “Granger, seriously, have you forgotten I’m second in the class?” The bushy haired witch shrugged. “I’m just used to dealing with these boys.” She said, nodding to Ron and Harry, who both looked appalled.
“Hermione!” “What? Harry, you thought Draco was the heir of Slytherin!” “He what?!” “That’s… a long story…” “Of which we must have the time for, Potter!”
The Quartet continued to argue as they pushed open the doors to the castle and headed for the Room of Requirement to talk further, oblivious to the heated fight going on between Fudge, the Malfoy’s and Dumbledore upstairs.
-*-*-*-
To keep their minds off things--or, more specifically, the no doubt screaming fest going on in the Headmaster’s tower--the Quartet had all gathered in front of the Lake to talk. Or, Ron, Harry, and Draco all had. Hermione had left rather abruptly to prepare for a date with Viktor, which it seemed she’d only just remembered in all the chaos of the morning, so now it was just them, talking about this year's most recent conspiracy.
“Barty Crouch Jr.” Draco said out loud, enunciating every part of his name. “The one and only.” Ron said with a theatrical gesture of his hand and a toss of a stone across the lake. It skipped three times before sinking and the redhead sighed while Harry frowned, pressing two fingers to his lips in thought.
“I’ve been thinking…” “Tell me something I don’t know.” “So, Karkaroff turned Barty Crouch Jr in right?” Draco sat up from where he was laying flat on his back, tossing a rock in the air, to look Harry in the eye. “Yes.” Harry turned to him, eyebrows creased in concern. “What if he still holds a grudge? He hates your dad enough to put you in the Tournament, right? So he must be some sort of bitter. What if that’s why the first Champions to be eliminated are Hugo and Anya?”
“How could he be manipulating the Tournament that much?” Ron asked, shifting to get a look at Harry too. “I know he must’ve put your names in somehow, but he can’t be a Judge, or anything.”
“No, but he must be someone on school grounds. So he could have hexed the Bludger to frame Anya, and Imperiused Hugo!” “For what purpose?” Draco pointed out, and Harry shrugged. “Dunno. Just ‘cause he could, I guess. And he set the Bludger onto you in an attempt to… well… You know…” Draco blanched and looked away pointedly, clutching dirt beneath his hands into fists.
“Listen,” Harry said, holding out a hand in the air towards the blonde. “We won’t let him hurt you. And even then, I know two really stubborn rich brats who have the Minister on their side that would rather see themselves die than you. Okay?” He jutted a thumb towards the castle and smirked at his friend, to which Draco forced a smile back. “Thanks.”
“Ugh!” The two turned around sharply at Ron’s disgusted spat to the ground. “Get a room! Or at least move away from my already damaged ears, okay?” Draco chuckled while Harry went red and shuffled away from him, but then they both saw someone coming down the bank towards them and Draco raised an eyebrow at Ron.
“Well get used to it, Weasley, ‘cause your ears are about to bleed a lot more.” He nodded behind the boy and he turned and immediately jolted back around, arms crossing. “Great. Here comes the Wonder Boy.”
It was Viktor Krum, making his way towards them while attempting to comb his hair, smelling of particularly strong perfume that started to make Ron gag as he got closer, to which the boy made no attempt to repress.
“Hello,” The Quidditch star greeted with a small wave before resuming his combing. “Is Hermy-own-ninny coming?” Draco nodded while Harry exclaimed, “Yes, she’s just getting ready.” And Krum looked down at him as he pocketed his comb, his expression unreadable. “So she’ll be a bit, yes?” Harry nodded, and he straightened, looking around, before kneeling down beside the Gryffindor, whispering in a low voice, lips barely moving, “Could I have a word?”
Harry’s eyes widened, he glanced around at his friends, then nodded, beginning to stand. “Sure.” He said with a shrug, “Yeah, all right.” He turned and made a, ‘I got no clue’ face to Ron and Draco as they watched him follow Krum away, eyes wide, then turned back around to walk with him.’’
“Where’re we… Where are we going?” Harry asked as they passed Hagrid’s cabin and headed straight for the intimidating line of trees he knew to be the Forbidden Forest. “Don’t want to be overheard,” said Krum shortly.
He came to a stop at the very edge of the trees, however, just in their shadow, to which Harry was very grateful. He then turned to face the Gryffindor, eyes narrowed. “I want to know,” He said, glowering, “What there is between you and Hermy-own-ninny.”
Harry blinked, squinted, then raised his eyebrows high in surprise when he realized that no, he had not been hearing him incorrectly.
“Nothing.” He immediately blurted, but Krum clearly was not convinced, still glowering, and Harry suddenly could feel himself struck by how tall he was. “Er--We’re friends. She’s not my girlfriend and she never had been. It’s just that Skeeter woman making things up.”
“Hermy-own-ninny talks about you very often,” said Krum, looking at Harry very suspiciously still.
“Yeah,” said Harry, nodding with his eyes wide as if it was obvious, because, well, it was. “Because we’re friends.” It was insane to him that Krum would even think of him as someone to compete with, much less in something as ridiculous as being Hermione’s boyfriend. Yet here he stood, in front of Viktor Krum, the famous eighteen year old International Quidditch player, trying to convince him that his sisterly friend of four years was in no way his girlfriend. He supposed he’d done weirder things this year, namely befriending Draco Malfoy, but this certainly took the cake at the moment.
“You have never… you have not…”
“No.” Harry said, very firmly now.
Krum blinked, then some light filled his eyes, as if he had become quite happy. He nodded towards the Quidditch field, then at Harry. “You fly very well. Not a Keeper clearly, but when you saved Mr. Ferret, I could tell you were quite good. You were great in the First Task, too.” Harry grinned both at the compliment that made him feel like he was flying with rainbows and also at the fact that Krum had just called Draco ‘Mr. Ferret.’
“Thanks. I saw you at the Quidditch World Cup. The Wronski Feint, you really--”
Harry was cut off when out of the corner of his eye he saw someone move in the trees and, purely out of instinct and the knowledge of what could most often lurk in this forest, he lunged forward and dragged Krum away, pulling him around.
“What is it?” Harry shook his head to indicate he didn’t know, taking a tentative step closer towards the trees and slipping his hands into the pocket of his robes, gripping his wand tight. Then, all of a sudden, a man staggered out from behind a tall oak tree, and, for a moment, Harry blinked, not recognizing him at all. Then he did, and he gasped, freezing dead.
It was Mr. Crouch, who looked awful. His clothes were ripped, his face bloody and scratched, and unshaven too. His skin had also gone an awful gray color, different from the sickly yellow from before. This appearance though, was nothing compared to his behavior. He was muttering, staggering, and gesticulating, talking to someone who wasn’t there, or he alone could see.
“Wasn’t he a Judge?” Krum whispered, staring oddly at Mr. Crouch. “Isn’t he with your Ministry?” Harry nodded, beginning to walk towards Mr. Crouch, who wasn’t looking towards him, but 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…”
“Mr. Crouch?” Harry began, outstretching his hands cautiously. Barty ignored him.
“...and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she’s bringing, now Karkaroff’s made it a round dozen…do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will…” Crouch’s eyes suddenly bulged and he staggered backwards, muttering soundlessly, before falling sideways down to his knees.
“Mr. Crouch?” Harry said loudly, dropping to his knees beside him. "Are you all right?” Crouch’s eyes began to roll in his head and Harry spun around to Krum, who was right behind him, and was frowning deeply at Crouch. “What is wrong with him?” “No idea…” Harry muttered, shaking his head. “But you’d better go and get someone. I’ll--”
“Dumbledore!” The man suddenly gasped, grabbing onto Harry’s arm and dragging him closer, though Harry could tell that he wasn’t really looking at him, but over his head. And not at Krum. “I need… see… Dumbledore…”
“Okay,” said Harry, getting ready to stand. “If you get up, Mr. Crouch, we can go up to the--” “I’ve done… stupid… thing…” Mr. Crouch breathed, and Harry realized that he looked completely mad, and strikingly similar to the lunatics he’d seen homeless on the streets occasionally back with the Dursleys. Though this seemed worse somehow, though he couldn’t place just how yet.
“Must… tell… Dumbledore…”
“Get up, Mr. Crouch,” said Harry loudly and clearly, attempting to tug him upwards but failing. “Get up, I’ll take you to Dumbledore!”
At last, Mr. Crouch’s eyes focused upon Harry’s. “Who… you?” He sputtered.
“I’m a student at the school,” Harry said, again attempting to lift Crouch up off the ground and looking up to Krum for help this time, but seeing he was stepping back, looking extremely nervous.
“You’re not… his?” Whispered Crouch, his mouth sagging, and Harry frowned, thinking of the conclusion he had made minutes before, of how this man’s son must despise Karkaroff. Maybe that went both ways… “No, sir. I go to Hogwarts. I’m Dumbledore’s student--that’s why I can go take you to him.
Crouch was pulling him closer, and Harry winced at his grip. “Warn… Dumbledore…” “We will. I will. I’ll get Dumbledore if you let go of me.” Said Harry. “Just let go, Mr. Crouch, and I’ll get him…”
“Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly. We are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge.” And Crouch was back to talk to the tree, dropping Harry’s arm and turning on the ground to face it. Harry winced, shaking his head and standing, then turned to Krum, face earnest.
“You need to stay with him. I’ll go get Dumbledore but--” “I have a date.” Harry frowned. “What?”
“I have a date, I can not--” “Viktor this is a Ministry Official! He’s more important than Hermione, okay?” Krum frowned, glancing over at Crouch but nodded firmly at Harry. “Okay. You are Hermy-own-ninny’s friend, so I should listen to you, right?” Harry nodded, “That’s right.”
He began to head out of the woods, then froze when he saw the familiar form of ‘Hermy-own-ninny’ herself making her way down the path to the lake.
“Hermione!” He called and she froze, turning to face them, yelling back, “Harry? Viktor?” “Over here!” Harry yelled and she began to dash towards them.
“What is going--” She froze when she saw Crouch, still talking to the tree, then turned wide-eyed to Harry. “What in Merlin’s name, Harry Potter!” Harry winced. “Yeah I know, just stay with him, alright? Viktor,” He turned to the Quidditch player. “Explain.” He ordered, then was off bounding as fast as he could towards the castle, not caring if Dumbledore was still in a meeting with the Malfoy’s and the Minister or not.
He left too quickly to hear Crouch’s next madenned exclamation, but Hermione did, and hurriedly called down for Ron and Draco.
In five minutes, Harry was hurtling toward a stone gargoyle standing halfway along an empty corridor. “Candy Floss!” He exclaimed, but then realized, rather abruptly, that of course the password would have changed in the last couple months so instead shouted, “Sherbet Lemon!” That didn’t work either, because why wouldn’t the password change in the past two years?
Harry looked madly down the dark corridor for any sign of a Professor or anybody who could let him in, just when a smooth, cold voice met his ears.
“Well, well, well,” He whipped his head back around to the gargoyle to see a man and a woman were just emerging from the spiral staircase behind it, the man smirking while the woman was looking at the floor in despair. It was the Malfoys. “If it isn’t Mr. Harry Potter.
“Mr. Malfoy!” Harry exclaimed, still out of breath. “I--I need to speak to Dumbledore! Right now, I--” “I’m afraid Professor Dumbledore is quite busy with the Minister, Potter, but I’m sure your no doubt oh so essential bonding session can--”
“It’s Mr. Crouch… He’s just turned up… He’s in the forest…. He’s asking--”
“Excuse me? Mr. Crouch? What is this nonsense? Did that jinxed Bludger hit you as well or have you always been this daft, Potter?”
“Mr. Crouch!” Harry shouted, suddenly very angry and not in the mood to deal with Lucius Malfoy at the moment. “From the Ministry! He’s ill or something--he’s in the forest, he wants to see Dumbledore! Just tell me the password up to--”
“I told you. The Headmaster is busy Potter.” said Mr. Malfoy, one eyebrow raised in skepticism at Harry’s claims.
“I’ve got to tell Dumbledore!” The Gryffindor repeated incessantly.
“Did you not hear me?” Lucius growled.
Narcissa huffed and spun around, yelling, “Turkish delight!” at the gargoyle and glaring at her husband as it slowly turned to reveal the staircase and Harry dashed forwards. He could just hear the beginnings of an argument as he rose up, but it was silenced once he’d reached the double doors with the griffon knocker.
He didn’t bother knocking, only throwing the doors open and bursting forwards toward Dumbledore’s desk where he sat talking to the Minister who was bent over his table and red faced.
“Professor!” Harry exclaimed, interrupting and not bothering to apologize or acknowledge Fudge as he leaned over the desk towards the Headmaster as well. “Mr. Crouch is here--he’s down in the forest, he wants to speak with you!”
And, to Harry’s great relief, while Fudge bursted with exclamations and questions behind him, Dumbledore asked none, only rising from his seat and nodding once at Harry. “Lead the way,” he said promptly, and he swept off towards the door with Harry, waving dismissively to the Minister and giving him a, ‘we’ll resume later’ but otherwise focused on where Harry was taking him.
“What did Mr. Crouch say, Harry?” Asked Dumbledore earnestly as they headed down the marble staircase to the entrance hall doors. “Said he wants to warn you… said he’s done something terrible.”
“Hm…” Dumbledore hummed, and he quickened his pace once they had reached the grounds and the bright, afternoon, April sun.
“He’s not acting normally,” Harry added, hurrying along beside Dumbledore. “He doesn’t seem to know where he is. He keeps talking like he thinks Percy Weasley’s there, and then he changes, and says he needs to see you… I left him with Viktor Krum and Hermione.”
“You did?” Dumbleodre asked sharply, and the two began to run now towards the edge of the woods. “Do you know if anybody else saw Mr. Crouch?” Harry shook his head. “Ron and Draco were down by the Lake, and I think Hermione called them up after I left. But no, I don’t know about anyone else…”
“Where are they?” Dumbledore slowed to a stop near the Beauxbatons carriages and Harry gestured to the trees, leading the way, and starting to fret when he couldn’t see the familiar forms of five people in them, or hear any voices.
“Viktor?” He shouted. “Hermione? Ron? Draco?!” No one answered, not one voice, not one sound. “Mr. Crouch?!” Nothing.
“They were here,” Harry said to Dumbledore, pushing through the trees. “They were definitely somewhere around here…” He moved aside a bush and stumbled backwards, but Dumbledore stepped forwards, further pushing the bush aside to reveal the full body belonging to the pair of feet that had shocked Harry. Krum’s body, unconscious on the ground, wand a foot away from his hand.
Harry looked around, seeing more bodies. Hermione’s near his, then Ron’s next, then Draco, the farthest away, sprawled across the path deeper into the woods.
But among all these bodies, there were no signs of Mr. Crouch.
Dumbledore bent over Krum and gently lifted one of his eyelids, doing the same to the three others. “Stunned,” He declared softly. “They’re all stunned.”
Harry gulped, glancing worriedly around at his friends and bending down near Draco. “Should I go and get someone?” He asked, voice shaking. “Madam Pomfrey?” “No,” Dumbledore said swiftly. “Stay here.” He turned and raised his wand into the air, pointed in the direction of Hagrid’s cabin, and Harry watched as something silvery burst out of it and streaked away through the trees like a ghostly bird.
Then Dumbledore walked over to Draco, bent down again, and pointed his wand at his neck and muttered, “Rennervate!”
The blonde’s eyes shot open and darted around wildly, before settling on Harry’s. He calmed, but looked quite dazed, and as he tried to sit up, both Dumbledore and Harry flattened him back down on a rock again, slowly.
“Crouch… Crouch attacked… Got Krum and… Hermio--Hermione.” Harry glanced worriedly over at Dumbledore, but mostly because this was the first time he’d ever heard Draco say Hermione’s name. “We… We tried to stop him but… He ran… He got Weasley so he must’ve…” Draco shook his head, closing his eyes and setting his head back down.
“Lie still for a moment. Harry, you stay with him.” Dumbledore said, standing and walking over to where Hagrid and Fang had suddenly appeared. Harry turned to look back at Draco, who was attempting to open his eyes again, hand slipping into his and holding on tight. Harry felt himself shiver in response, despite it still being warm outside.
“He… He attacked… from behind…” He choked and Harry frowned, brushing aside stray locks of his pale hair from his face as he listened. “Never… Never attack… From behind…”
“Wise words, Mr. Malfoy.” Harry jerked his head up, eyes wide at the sound of the familiar wheezy growl. “It seems you’ve learned your lesson.”
Draco had passed out once more, so Harry saw no harm in standing to get a better look at the emerging form of Professor Moody, limping toward them from behind a tree, wand out and ready.
“Damn leg,” He growled. “Would’ve been here quicker… What's happened? Lucius said something about Crouch--” “Crouch?” said Hagrid blankly and Dumbledore frowned. “Karkaroff, please, Hagrid!” He ordered sharply to which the Half-Giant nodded.
“Oh yeah… right y’are, Professor…” He said, and he turned and disappeared in the trees, Fang trotting after him.
“I don’t know where Barty Crouch is,” Dumbledore told Moody, “but it is essential that we find him.” Moody nodded along, already turning and limping off into the forest. “I’m onto it.” He growled. Dumbledore then went to wake the other students, and didn’t speak again until they heard Hagrid and Fang returning after the other three had been calmed like Draco.
Karkaroff was hurrying along behind them, looking pale and agitated, though he always did these days. “What is this?” he cried when he saw Krum on the ground among the other Hogwarts students and Dumbledore and Harry beside him. “What’s going on?”
“I was attacked! Said the newly awakened Krum, sitting up fast and rubbing his head. “Mr. Crouch or whatever his name--” “Crouch attacked you? Crouch attacked you? The Triwizard judge?” Karkaroff glared over at Dumbledore, ignoring his attempts to calm him, looking livid as he straightened his furs around him. “Treachery!” He bellowed, pointing at the fellow Headmaster. “It is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretenses, Dumbledore! This is not an equal competition!”
“Then why would we have been attacked, sir?” Hermione pointed out, starting to sit up and rub her head as well. “We’re Hogwarts students. That would be a little strange to attack fellow members of this… ‘plot’, wouldn’t it?”
“It would be a smart little trick or a simple mistake. You, foolish girl, are the one dating my Champion to get inside information on my school and my methods, afterall. All of this has been a plot from the start. First you sneak Potter and Malfoy into the tournament, though they are both underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my Champion, my only Champion left, may I add, out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you, with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences--here’s what I think of you!”
Karkaroff finished his speech by spitting onto the ground at Dumbledore’s feet, and Harry and Hermione both sucked in a breath, knowing that was a big mistake to be made in front of Rubeus Hagrid.
Sure enough, in one swift movement, Hagrid seized the front of Karkaroff’s furs, lifted him into the air, and slammed him against a nearby tree, which was enough to wake Draco and Ron from where they had passed out and get them suppressing a chuckle.
“Apologize!” Hagrid snarled as Karkaroff gasped for breath, and Dumbledore gasped, shouting, “Hagrid, no!” to which Hagrid immediately dropped him and let him slide down the trunk of the tree to a heap on the ground.
“Kindly escort my students back up to the castle, Hagrid,” said Dumbledore sharply, and, breathing heavily, Hagrid huffed, glaring at Karkaroff. “Maybe I’d better stay here, Headmaster…” He growled and Dumbledore frowned. “You will take these children back to school, Hagrid.” He repeated firmly. “Take Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Ms. Granger right up to Gryffindor Tower, and Mr. Malfoy too, while you're at it. Draco, don’t give me that look. Anything you might want to do--any owls you might want to send--Don’t. Stay there. We’ll handle this situation tonight. Everything can wait until tomorrow, do you understand me?”
The Quartet, still rattled, all looked at each other as the three formerly unconscious ones began to stand, but nodded to Dumbledore, giving various agreements, Harry thinking about how he couldn’t send an owl if he wanted, as Hedwig had of course not returned yet.
“I’ll leave Fang with yeh, Headmaster,” Hagrid said, still glaring at Karkaroff, who was still shaking at the foot of the tree. “Stay, Fang. C’mon, you four.”
They began to make their way across the grounds in silence, noticing how the sun was beginning to set on the horizon, feeling suddenly very hungry, and upset Dumbledore was refusing to let them leave the Tower that night, hoping there would still be food.
“How dare he,” Hagrid growled during their silent march, talking only to himself, it seemed. “How dare he accuse Dumbledore. Like Dumbledore’d do anythin’ like that. Like Dumbledore wanted you two in the tournament in the firs’ place. Worried! I dunno when I seen Dumbledore more worried than he's bin lately. An' you!"
Hagrid spun around to face the four of them angrily, and the kids all stopped short in shock, Draco's eyes going wide in anticipation for him to stick a beast on him or something.
"What were you all doin', wanderin' off with ruddy Krum? He's from Durmstrang! Coulda jinxed yeh right there, couldn' he? Hasn' Moody taught yer lot nothin'? 'Magine lettin' him lure yeh off on yer own–"
"Hagrid he's my boyfrie–" "And that's a whole 'nother thing! Hermione really, what're you thinking? "The less you lot 'ave ter do with these foreigners, the happier yeh'll be. Yeh can't trust any of 'em."
The group exchanged looks, now finally getting a guess at what this was all about.
"You were getting on all right with Madame Maxime," Harry grumbled, annoyed, and Hagrid slammed the entrance doors open in response, scoffing. "Don' you talk ter me abou' her!" He bellowed, making all four of the kids jump. "I've got her number now! Tryin' ter get back in me good books, tryin' ter get me ter tell her what's comin' in the Fourth Task. Ha! You can't trust any of 'em!"
For once the trio of Gryffindor's were quite glad to say goodnight to Hagrid as they helped Draco into the unfamiliar (to him) common room, very much not wanting to spend any more time around him when he got to be in this mood.