~Chapter 11- The Imposter~

After the break, Harry claimed Mr. Crouch reappeared in the forest. He was apparently out of his mind and somehow managed to strangely disappear again. Another strange, unexplainable occurrence.

Finally, the evening of June the twenty-fourth came, and we were all gathered in the stands again. This time they were on the Quidditch pitch and there were giant hedges everywhere forming a maze. The Triwizard Cup was hidden in the middle. The maze had obstacles in it that we couldn't see: enchantments and even magical beasts to challenge them. They were to send up red sparks if they got in trouble.

Ludo Bagman dismissed the champions into the labyrinth as they lined up outside the entrance. With a magnified voice, he announced the current standings. Harry and Cedric tied for first, Krum was in third, and Fleur was in last.

Everyone cheered for the champions as Bagman got his whistle ready. Once he blew it, Harry and Cedric went into the maze. Bagman blew his whistle again and Krum entered, followed by Fleur a few seconds later.

There wasn't much to see as the champions went through the maze. Every so often, light from spells illuminated a spot in the hedges, but nothing more could be seen.

"Look who it is!" I heard somebody say behind me, and before I knew it, Luna Lovegood was sitting beside me, with Neville taking the spot next to her.

"Hi ... Luna."

"Hi, Leslie!"

"Actually, it's Lindsey. But you were kind of close."

"I try to remember names. It's just that you don't look like a Lindsey. Are you Muggle-born?"

"N - No," I said, afraid of where this was heading.

"You look like someone who comes from a long line of a rich wizard family. Your name should be something that suits a witch like that better. Like my name, Luna."

Those words made me realize that underneath all the oddity, Luna Lovegood was actually really smart.

"Well ... Lindsey's not my favorite name," I admitted.

"Then go by a nickname! I'll call you LT from now on. That will definitely be easier to remember."

"No, no, please call me Lindsey," I insisted. "It's easier that way." I didn't think I could handle any more names than the two I already had.

Changing the subject, she said, "Well, what do you think is going on in there?" She addressed me like I was a close companion.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe things like boggarts ... Hagrid's skrewts ... magical obstacles ... and probably several enchantments we've never even heard of before."

"I bet they have to get past heliopaths," Luna said.

Another creature I'd never heard of. "What is a heliopath?" I asked, slightly annoyed.

"A body of fire. It destroys everything in its path. It would destroy them if they weren't careful. They would be nothing but ashes."

"Luna, if there are heliopaths in there, why aren't the hedges burning? Luna?"

I looked at her, but her giant blue eyes were fixed on something else. "Look!" she gasped, pointing into the maze. "Oh, no, I bet someone got attacked by nargle!"

I looked out and saw red sparks above a spot in the maze. Moments later, Professor McGonagall was pulling an extremely shaken Fleur Delacour into the stands.

Nothing else happened for awhile. Luna and I chatted a bit, but Luna did most of the talking, saying she wanted to go and search for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in Sweden. I had no idea what these were but kept all my thoughts to myself. Finally, once it was totally dark, Luna stopped talking. It was at that point we all realized something was wrong.

It seemed all three champions should have been out by now. It was far too late and the maze wasn't all that big. Where was everybody? Maybe there were more obstacles in the maze than I had assumed. But surely the task wasn't meant to last this long ...

And then it happened. My wrist exploded with pain-pain like I had never experienced before. It was far worse than it had been at the World Cup. I clutched my arm and closed my eyes tight, rubbing until it subsided.

"Lindsey? Are you okay?" Neville asked in concern two seats down. I couldn't answer; it hurt too badly.

Finally, a bluish glow lit up the darkness in front of the maze entrance. By the tiny amount of light shining, I recognized Harry and Cedric. Everyone cheered and clapped for a moment, but suddenly stopped. Indeed, something was positively wrong.

Many people screamed and several authorities-Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge-ran forward to investigate. I tried to get a better look, but couldn't see much. Harry appeared to be shaking and sobbing. I caught a glimpse of Cedric's face which had been obscured by Harry's body. His expression was blank and still. But surely not ...

Dumbledore turned Harry over and said something to him. Harry whispered something back, and by the light of the several wands that were now pointing at the scene, he appeared to be saying, "He's back. He's back. Voldemort." [*]

Fear flooded me. Voldemort, back? No, that was impossible ... he couldn't be? Or could he?

And then reality hit me. It had to be true. Visions and words from events of the past year swam into my head: the Mark at the World Cup, Mad-Eye Moody coming out of retirement, Harry's name coming from the Goblet, Karkaroff's and Snape's conversation at the Yule Ball, Mr. Crouch's disappearance, my throbbing wrist, Cedric's unmoving body. The strange events all had to do with Voldemort's return. It was all supposed to lead up to this in the end.

Cornelius Fudge realized what happened upon closer inspection and said loud enough for most of us to hear, "Dumbledore - he's dead!" [*]

Dead. The word spread through the stands in a heartbeat. Amos Diggory, who had come for Cedric's performance, was now running forward to his son. Many people screamed and sobbed, but I was too shocked to even think straight. I couldn't hear what was going on in front anymore, though I saw Mad-Eye Moody come over and grab Harry to take him to the hospital wing.

I had no idea how it had happened, what had happened ... but Harry's emotional breakdown and Cedric's dead body proved it. Lord Voldemort was definitely back.

The teachers dismissed us to the common rooms a line at a time. Guests were sent away. My legs felt like jelly; I couldn't feel them as I walked to the Gryffindor common room. Voldemort, back ... for real ...

I sat on the bed in my dormitory for what felt like eternity. Lavender, Parvati, and Hermione sat quietly as well. Finally, Parvati said quietly, "Do you - do you really think it's true?"

Hermione nodded slowly, but Lavender shook her head. "No. I don't believe it."

"I do," I said softly. "The signs show it."

"What signs?" Lavender asked.

"Think about it: the Mark, Harry's name in the Goblet ... "

"The Mark was just a group of Death Eaters having fun," she said flatly. "And Harry somehow tricked the Goblet. That's how that happened."

"Then what about Mr. Crouch's disappearance?"

"He was ill!"

"He was not! The Dark Lord is back, there's no denying it!"

"There's absolutely no proof!" Lavender argued. "You can't be sure! I don't believe it."

"No. The truth is that you don't want to believe it. You know he's back. You're just scared. You don't want to believe he's back."

Lavender actually stood up and reached for her wand. "I never said that!"

"But that's - "

I stopped. Professor McGonagall had entered the dormitory. This was strange - she rarely ever visited Gryffindor Tower, let alone the dorms.

"Miss Tonks, the headmaster would like to see you."

I froze. "He ... he would?"

"Yes. You're not in trouble, he just wishes to ... well, come."

I obeyed without question, wondering what Dumbledore wanted. I followed Professor McGonagall through halls, around corridors, down flights of stairs until we reached Professor Moody's office on the third floor. Professor Dumbledore was standing by the door.

"Ah. Thank you, Minerva. I'll take it from here," he said, and McGonagall left.

"Now, Miss Tonks ... or should I say, Miss Lestrange ... "

"You knew?" I suddenly blurted. I thought the only people outside my family who knew my real identity were certain Ministry wizards.

"Of course I knew," Dumbledore said. "But I assure you, I am the only one here at Hogwarts who knows."

Stunned, I listened to him as he went on.

"This may be a bit of a shock to you, but there is someone who wishes to see you. I must explain; you have the right to know. Professor Moody was not really Alastor Moody, but an imposter using Polyjuice Potion. He is really someone we all believed dead - Barty Crouch, Jr., Mr. Crouch's son. You see, he put Harry Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire."

I was silent for a few seconds, but finally found my voice and said, "So ... so what does this have to do with me?"

"Ah, yes. Mr. Crouch, you see, knew your parents. He is a Death Eater. And though I'm highly against it, he wishes to speak to you. It is because of you-not him-that I am allowing this, because I believe you have this right. You may proceed."

He took me inside. A man was there, lying on the floor. Dumbledore left, leaving me standing there with this man. He certainly looked similar to Mr. Crouch. He smiled mischievously when he saw me. I stood there without moving a muscle. Not that I could - my legs felt like jelly again.

"Yes, yes ... Lyra, is it?"

"Y - yes," I stammered weakly. "W - what is it?"

"I wanted to speak to you before I get sent to Azkaban. I finally have my chance. I've wanted to talk to you all year. You just ... look so much like your parents. I was close to them. Your parents, your uncle Rabastan Lestrange, and I were the Dark Lord's most faithful servants. We alone searched for him after he disappeared. We knew he'd come back one day."

"But what's your point?" I asked blankly. What was Barty Crouch, Jr. trying to tell me? He was telling me information I knew already.

"My point is, we were right, the Dark Lord returned. And now, though I'm being sent off to Azkaban, I don't really care. Now that he's back, the dementors will leave the fortress and all the prisoners will be free. I'll escape, your parents will escape...I'm sure you've always wanted to meet them, and soon you'll be able to see them. Am I right?"

"Well ... " Of course he was right, I wanted to meet them. But my words came back to me. "Still, what's your point?"

"I guess I just wanted to talk to you. I haven't seen your parents forever, and you're as close as I can get. I was wondering if we could discuss matters-"

I suddenly felt angry, and let out a laugh of rage. "You want to discuss matters about your master with me? That Polyjuice Potion has obviously gone to your head. Listen, Mr. Crouch, I'm not my parents. I'm a simple fourth year student under a false identity and I'm a Gryffindor. If you think I'm going to go the same way my parents did, you're very wrong."

"You think I'm wrong? How about the day I performed the Unforgivable Curses for your class? Do you think I missed the look in your eyes when I performed the Cruciatus Curse? You're just like your mother. The Cruciatus Curse was her specialty."

I was stunned. That's why he'd stared at me: he had known, but he was thinking of me from the Death Eater perspective, not the ex-Auror perspective.

He stared back at me. I figured he'd said everything he wanted to say. But then I realized something-maybe he would share information with me about the Death Eaters. Maybe I could find out why my parents were locked up once and for all.

"So, then ... what happened? Why did the Dark Lord - "

He interrupted me. "I have nothing to say to you. You're not who I thought you were."

"Right you are," I told him, just as the door opened.

I froze with fear for the millionth time that night. Somebody had let a dementor into the room. Dementors weren't supposed to be at Hogwarts; Dumbledore had made that clear last year. This was the last case I was expecting

I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to cast a Patronus charm. But the dementor glided over to Barty Crouch, Jr. and reached for his neck with its scabby hands. Pulling back its hood, I saw the most grotesque face ever - scabbed and raw, with socket-less eyes. Mr. Crouch struggled under the dementor's grasp as the monster began to perform it: the dementor's kiss.

"No - wait!" I gasped. I didn't know if I was talking to the dementor or Mr. Crouch. "I still don't know why - don't do it!"

It was horrible, but I couldn't pull my eyes away. The dementor did it: sucked out his soul, leaving him worse than dead. And Barty Crouch, Jr.'s secrets of the past were left in his empty mind forever with no way for me to discover them.

A memorial service for Cedric was held before the end of term. Dumbledore told everyone about how he had been murdered by Lord Voldemort, though the Ministry stood firm and didn't want us to know this bit of information.

However, Dumbledore said not telling us would have been an insult to Cedric Diggory's memory.

We also learned that Karkaroff had fled when he felt the Mark burn-the Death Eaters had been called to Voldemort's rebirth and had felt the Mark burn on their wrists (that was what the searing pain I'd felt in my wrist during the maze). Karkaroff had been a Death Eater after all.

The end of the year had never been so gloomy. Cedric was dead, Voldemort was back, and the Wizarding world was possibly headed into a war. Yet, several people had acted like Lavender and disagreed with Harry and Dumbledore about his return - Cornelius Fudge, for instance.

We also found out some of the story behind Voldemort's return. The Triwizard cup had apparently been a Portkey which took Harry and Cedric to a graveyard. There Cedric was murdered and Harry saw the Death Eaters and Voldemort. This was all we knew, as they wouldn't tell us the details. Although, considering so many people didn't even believe anything in the first place, details about Voldemort's return were unnecessary.

Of course, I wanted to know the details. Questions burned into my head over the next few days: Who were the Death Eaters? How many were there? What did they say when their master, who had been gone for over a decade, was reborn? And then I thought of my parents and how they were in Azkaban. Obviously they'd felt the Mark burn, so they knew he was back.

The ride back from Hogwarts on departing day was as normal as ever. I sat alone in a compartment and pondered recent events. Barty Crouch, Jr. had said the dementors would leave Azkaban and everyone would escape. Did this mean I really would get to see my parents someday?

That led to my biggest burning questions: if I did see them, what would happen? Would it go okay? Would they even bother to find me? Would they care? Would they tell me what happened; why they got sent to prison? Would I find out anyway from another source? How would they treat me? And more importantly, what would I think of them? Would I forgive them or would I hate them?

Stop, I told myself after several minutes of repeating these questions in my head. You can't worry about this. What comes eventually comes.

As soon as I got off the train at the platform, Ted, Andromeda, and Dora were waiting to escort me home. Dora immediately pulled me into a hug and said, "Oh, thank goodness. How are you after everything that's happened? I meant to write to you but I was so busy at work!"

"Dora, Dora, I'm fine, but I have a lot to tell you. I am assuming you all believe the rumors, right?"

"Of course we do," Andromeda said. "I knew he'd come back eventually. Based on how dedicated my sister was on claiming he'd return someday ... we all know how that ended up."

Before I could take in what she'd said, Dora blurted, "Lyra, I'm so sorry! You knew it was coming and tried to warn me! You read the signs like Dumbledore did while I sat back and slacked off, thinking it was no big deal! And now ... and now ... there could be another war approaching ... " She seemed to be holding back tears. "I should have listened! I'm a terrible Auror, I know I am!"

"Be quiet," I said. "We need to get home to discuss this. Don't worry about thinking it wasn't a big deal; many people don't even believe he's back."

"But there must be something we can do! To convince people, to help fight!"

"Maybe there is," I told her. "But for now, we have to wait and let the events run their course. If there is a war coming, it will come. There's no stopping it."

And I knew, deep down, that it would come. Everyone would have to face this change, whether they took a side or not. I would have to face it and choose one, which should have been an easy decision, but I was still torn as usual. If my parents were in it and I had to fight them, which one would I choose? Would I pick any at all?

My conscience answered me: Yes, and you know very well which one you'd take.

END OF PART ONE.