The revelation of Voldemort’s return hung in silence over the hospital wing for a few seconds. Then, Dumbledore sprang into action and began giving orders. “Alastor, take Barty and his house-elf and secure them in your office. Then go and round up the other members of staff and have them meet in the staff common room as soon as possible. Ensure all the students are safely in their dormitories. You’d better ask Maxime and Preminin to join you as well. Dobby, go with Professor Moody and stand guard over the prisoners. Ludo, please contact the Ministry at once, although I’m sure Fudge will have heard and will be on his way here already. We haven’t much time in which to act.”
Moody, Dobby and Bagman set about their orders immediately. When they had gone, taking Crouch and Winky with them, only Neville, Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey remained behind. Dumbledore came and sat on the end of Neville’s bed. Neville was still sobbing, his head in his hands. “Neville,” said Dumbledore softly, “I know this is hard, and you’ve been through so much already, but I must ask you to tell me everything that happened. Start from the very beginning.”
Slowly, haltingly, Neville told Dumbledore about his journey through the maze, about Cedric touching the Cup and his disappearance and return, and how Cedric had taken him back to the Cup and on to the graveyard. But when he got to the point where Pettigrew had appeared, he found he could not go on, and Dumbledore had to gently coax what happened next out of him, bit by bit: the murder of Cedric and the gruesome potion that had restored Voldemort’s body.
Dumbledore examined the cut on Neville’s arm while Madam Pomfrey attended to it. “He took your blood,” he murmured.
“Y-yes,” stuttered Neville, “H-he said it would break my protection against him.”
The faintest smile creased across Dumbledore’s lips. “He was right, in a way. That’s why he wanted you, Neville. He wanted your blood, the blood that carries your mother’s protection, so that he could overcome it. But does he understand what he has done?”
Neville had no answer to Dumbledore’s odd question, and Dumbledore did not offer one himself. Instead he continued, “Tell me what happened next, Neville. He would have summoned his Death Eaters, wouldn’t he?”
“Yes. Th-they all came, even…” But at that moment, Neville was interrupted by loud, angry shouts from outside the hospital wing. Neville and Dumbledore looked up to see none other than Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, storm into the room, closely followed by Moody.
“Ah, Dumbledore, they said I would find you here,” said Fudge. He looked panicked and flustered, and was out of breath.
“Headmaster, do you know what this idiot has done?” yelled Moody furiously.
“I beg your pardon?” said a shocked Fudge. “Do you know who you’re speaking to?”
“Yeah, a spineless, short-sighted, bureaucratic idiot,” replied Moody, who always said exactly what he meant. “Headmaster, I was down in the Entrance Hall when this fool comes barging in, demanding to see the prisoner. Well, I could hardly refuse him, so I told him where my office was, but then I discovered he’d brought a Dementor with him.
It was Dumbledore’s turn to be angry. “A Dementor, in my school?”
“He went straight up there, pushed that house-elf out of the way, and went in. The Dementor got one look at Crouch and went straight for him. It had sucked out the man’s soul before I could raise a wand to stop it.”
“I do not see your problem,” said Fudge. “I have received a full report of what happened here, and I acted as appropriate. Crouch’s guilt was obvious, as was the fact that he was clearly under the influence or orders of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I must see that justice is done.”
“Justice?” said Dumbledore incredulously. “Where was the man’s fair trial, or his chance to speak in his own defence? What of the opportunity to question him, to see what he knows? What did you do with his house-elf? Bring her down here at once.”
Fudge shifted uncomfortably. “The house-elf was obviously deranged, given its actions. In the interests of safety, I had it put down.”
For a moment, Dumbledore was almost speechless with fury. “Put down? You mean, you killed her? Have you no humanity, Cornelius? House-elves are bound to obey their master’s orders, you know that. She had no choice, whatever her own feelings may have been. She too deserved the right to be heard, the same right that Crouch had.
“Not only have your actions been morally reprehensible, but you may have just thrown away our greatest assets, Cornelius. Whatever report you have received, it could not have been in any way full. Crouch was indeed working for Voldemort. And his plan succeeded. Voldemort has returned to power.”
“What?” spluttered Fudge, and he staggered a little and had to support himself on the end of one of the beds. “What nonsense are you talking about, Dumbledore?”
“Voldemort has returned,” repeated Dumbledore. “This very night, he captured Neville and used him to restore his body. He is even now regathering his forces. We must act quickly and decisively.”
“No, no,” stammered Fudge. “He can’t be… it’s not possible… he’s not. You can’t know that, Dumbledore. Where’s the evidence? Where’s the proof? Don’t you understand, he just can’t be back, he just can’t be.”
“You yourself have disposed of some of the best evidence we have, Cornelius. Fortunately, Neville here was stubborn enough to escape Voldemort’s clutches and warn us all.”
“It’s true, sir,” said Neville. “I was there. I saw him.”
“Nonsense,” said Fudge. He pulled his bowler hat from his head and mopped his brow. “The boy is traumatised, he’s been through so much, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. He just thinks he saw things. Is this some plot of yours, Dumbledore?”
“Cornelius, you are not thinking rationally,” said Dumbledore calmly. “You must listen to Neville; you will see that he speaks the truth. Neville was just about to tell me about the Death Eaters that Voldemort summoned to him, weren’t you Neville?”
“They w-were all in black robes and masks,” said Neville. “I didn’t see their faces, but he called them by name.” Neville struggled to remember the names. “There was Crabbe and Goyle, and an Avery and a Macnair…”
“These are just names of former accused Death Eaters,” countered Fudge. “They were all exonerated.”
“And Lucius Malfoy was there too,” continued Neville. “And… and Professor Snape.”
At the mention of Snape’s name, for a moment, the calm, self-assured bearing of Dumbledore collapsed completely. He turned to look straight at Neville, and his face was white. “Snape?” he said, in a panicked voice. “Did you say Snape?” The sudden change in Dumbledore’s manner quite unnerved Neville, who just nodded. “Snape, no…” Dumbledore muttered to himself.
“I warned you about Snape, Headmaster,” pointed out Moody. Dumbledore did not reply. His eyes were half-closed; Neville could tell his mind was working furiously.
“I won’t believe it,” said Fudge, but Dumbledore was now hardly listening to him. “I won’t accept it. He isn’t back. Do you understand, Dumbledore? He is not back.”
Dumbledore finally looked up at him. “If you will not see reason, Cornelius, then I would ask you to leave. I have work to do, and if you will not help me, then at least don’t get in my way.” Fudge glared angrily at Dumbledore, and then turned and marched silently out of the hospital wing.
Dumbledore did not watch him go, but looked back at Neville. “Neville, you must finish your story. Please. Tell me everything.”
Exhausted and numb with shock, Neville struggled to continue his story, while Dumbledore listened in silence. He managed to get as far as the moment that his and Voldemort’s spells connected, but he found it impossible to describe, let alone explain what happened next.
Dumbledore understood, though. “Priori Incantatem,” he said. “Do you remember when you first bought your wand, that Ollivander told you it shared a core with Voldemort’s wand?” Neville nodded. “A tail feather from the same phoenix. My phoenix, Fawkes, as it happens. Ollivander informed me of your purchase at once. You see, Priori Incantatem is a curious side-effect of wand construction. When two wands with such identical cores do battle, they become locked, and one of the wands is forced to regurgitate its most recent spells, in reverse order. Cedric reappeared, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” said Neville. “And another man. And… my parents.”
Dumbledore peered closely at Neville over the top of his spectacles. “The dead cannot return, Neville, but they leave an imprint upon the earth that they have left, and that imprint can always be found, if we look hard enough within ourselves. Thank you, Neville. Your courage and endurance have been remarkable. Sleep now, and forget your troubles for a while. Madam Pomfrey, a sleeping potion for Neville, if you would be so kind.”
While Pomfrey was off fetching the potion, Dumbledore turned to Moody. “Alastor,” he said, “the Order must be reformed.”
“I thought you might say that,” replied Moody. “You know, this means the end of my time here. But then, I wasn’t planning on staying anyway. I’ll start rounding up the old faces.”
“Go first to Sirius Black,” said Dumbledore. “Tell him that I told you to ask about a friend staying at his old family home. He will explain everything.” Moody nodded and, without a further word, hurried off.
Madam Pomfrey returned with the sleeping potion and Neville swallowed it gratefully. As he started to drift off to sleep, he heard Dumbledore say quietly, “You know, Professor Trelawney was right. The end of the beginning is indeed at hand.”
“The end of the beginning of what?” asked Neville with a yawn.
“You,” Dumbledore answered simply, as Neville drifted away into a welcome sleep.
* * *
A solemn quiet lay over Hogwarts in the last few days of the school year. Students and teachers alike wandered the corridors, not saying a word to each other. It was as if an enchantment of silence had been placed on the whole castle. Everybody waited to see what would happen next.
Dumbledore had barely left his office since the fateful night of the Third Task. Professor Moody had not been seen inside the school at all. Nor had Professor Snape. In the absence of any solid facts, dozens of whispered wild rumours had spread through the common rooms, but separating fact from fiction was impossible.
As for Neville Longbottom, after spending a night and a day in the hospital wing, he had returned to his dormitory, from where he had refused to step outside, not even for meals. His friends had been forced to bring food to him, and beg him to eat. Hermione, Ginny, Harry, Ron, each had tried to get him to talk about what had happened, without success. His Gran, perhaps understanding him best of all, had returned home without speaking to him, though not before a long and reportedly frank conversation with Dumbledore.
Neville sat for long periods on his bed, rolling his Remembrall around in his hands and staring into it, but the smoke inside remained defiantly white. He fought the urge to hurl it at the wall, to smash it to pieces. He desperately wanted to forget. But, for once, he couldn’t. He could never be rid of the memories of that night, and the look on Cedric’s face the moment before the Killing Curse struck haunted him every time he closed his eyes.
It was only on the last day before the Hogwarts Express would depart that Neville was finally persuaded to leave Gryffindor Tower. Ron and Ginny came to his room and told him that Professor McGonagall had asked them to ensure that Neville was present for the Leaving Feast that evening. Apparently Dumbledore wanted every student to be there. Reluctantly, Neville agreed.
The Gryffindor common room fell completely silent as he came into it that evening. Everybody turned to look at him, and Neville kept his eyes downwards to avoid meeting any of their stares. He was met by Ginny, who gave him a long hug, and took his arm and led him out of the portrait hole and down the long staircase to the Great Hall.
The hall was packed out as Neville entered, and more were still streaming in. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were all there too. Viktor Krum, sporting a large bruise on his forehead, nodded briefly to him as he passed. He could see Fleur Delacour talking happily with her friends further down the hall.
Ginny and Neville squeezed into a space between Hermione and the Marauders on the Gryffindor table. Everyone knew better than to ask Neville, “How are you?” so they all just talked of normal things, such as how the end-of-year exams went, or what they were all doing over the summer, or the Marauders’ latest schemes. Neville listened politely, but did not join in the conversations.
He looked up at the teachers’ table. All the professors were there, as well as Maxime and Preminin. Moody had even returned, and was sat at one end looking tired and nervous. The only teacher that was missing was Snape. Neville reflected that Snape’s return to the Death Eaters would at least mean he would be spared any further Potions lessons with him. He wondered what had happened to Snape, and the hope came to him that perhaps Voldemort would finally decide to kill him in punishment for his earlier treachery. Neville hoped never to hear of Severus Snape again.
The feast was excellent, as usual, though the mood in the hall was sombre. At the feast’s end, Dumbledore rose to speak. “If I might beg your attention to say a few words before you each return to your common rooms,” he said in a loud, clear voice. “Firstly, I have one announcement to make. I regret to inform you that Professor Moody will not be returning to teach at Hogwarts next year. He has given exemplary service to this school over the past year, but has decided to move on, to take up other important projects. He will be greatly missed.” There was a mixed, but largely disappointed reaction amongst the students to the news.
“And now, to the matter that has occupied all our thoughts these past few days,” Dumbledore continued. “We meet at a time of great sorrow and loss. Many of you were privileged to know Cedric Diggory personally; to others he was just a name, or a face seen from a distance. Yet we all feel his absence, because Cedric Diggory embodied Hogwarts itself. He was not just a talented student, a skilled Quidditch player and our Triwizard representative, no, more important than that, he demonstrated the personal qualities on which this school was founded: bravery, intelligence, wit, wisdom, as well as the abundance of loyalty and dedication that made him a true Hufflepuff.
“Many of you have been speculating as to how he died, I know. There are those who would rather you didn’t know, who would prefer that the truth remain hidden or confused. That cannot be permitted. The fact is, Cedric Diggory was murdered on the orders of Lord Voldemort. Our greatest enemy has returned, and his first act was to senselessly take the life of this brave boy, whose only fault was that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is important the truth is known, for without it, his death would have been in vain.
“At the beginning of this year, the Sorting Hat warned of darkness coming. Well, now the darkness has arrived. It also urged us to pull together, to stand united as one. We now have this opportunity. Here we are, gathered with friends from other lands, people we have welcomed among us, and who have been generous in returning that welcome all year. Let us take this opportunity to strengthen these ties of friendship, to bind ourselves together in common cause. Together we must form Hogwarts into a community of one; each house, each individual dedicated to upholding all the virtues on which this school was founded, and in which Cedric Diggory believed. That is the true way in which to celebrate his life, and honour his memory.
“The times ahead will be hard, and difficult choices will have to be made, but if we each hold the example of Cedric in our hearts, then we will stand firm, and do what is right. That is his greatest legacy to us. If we cherish that legacy, we will never forget him.”
* * *
The next morning, his suitcase packed, Neville joined the other students outside the main doors of the castle, waiting for the carriages to take them to Hogsmeade station. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were leaving too, and were making their goodbyes. Neville noticed Ron’s sour glare at the length of the embrace and subsequent parting conversation between Hermione and Viktor. When Viktor left and Hermione came over to the other Gryffindors, Ron tried to find out what they had said to each other, but Hermione wouldn’t tell him.
Neville used the wait to properly say goodbye to Ginny. They promised to write to each other as often as possible, and talked of the possibility of Neville visiting the Burrow over the summer. When Ginny kissed him, Neville glanced over at Ron, but, unlike with Hermione and Viktor, this time he seemed unconcerned. Perhaps he had got over his dislike of the two of them together, or else he had decided to go easy on Neville. Neville didn’t know which it was.
He spotted Professor Moody standing by the doors, keeping watch over the students. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said to Ginny, and hurried over to Moody. “Do you really have to leave, sir?” he asked him.
“I’m afraid so, Neville,” replied Moody. “There’s a war coming, and I’m a soldier. I’m needed elsewhere. But don’t worry; I have a feeling we’ll still be seeing a lot of each other in the years ahead.”
“Um, sir, one more thing. You heard me say how my parents appeared in the graveyard? Well, they, er, asked me to thank you from them.”
Neville was surprised to see the glistening of a tear in Moody’s one natural eye. “It was my pleasure, Neville. I can only apologise for not keeping my promise. I failed to protect you. I should have reacted more quickly in the maze.”
“There was nothing you could have done,” said Neville, and he believed it. Things had to happen the way they did that night, and the only person to blame was himself. “Goodbye, Professor, until next time.”
“Goodbye, Neville. Remember, constant vigilance.”
Neville walked back to Ginny. “He was nuts, but he was all right, wasn’t he?” said Ginny.
“He was the best teacher I’ve ever had,” replied Neville. “I’ll miss him.”
The carriages arrived, pulled again by the strange winged horses, and everybody climbed aboard. Neville and Ginny got into one of the last carriages with Hermione, Harry and Ron. Harry was glancing at a copy of the Daily Prophet. “Anything in there?” Hermione asked. “You know, about…”
“Not a thing,” said Harry. “Weird. They’re keeping it all very hushed-up.”
“At least they’ve stopped writing stupid stories about you, Neville,” observed Ron.
“Oh, I don’t think we need to worry about that any more,” said Hermione, and took something out of the pocket of her robes. It was a small jar, inside which a large beetle was scurrying around furiously. Seeing everyone’s confused expressions, she added, “I’ll explain it all when we get on the train.”
The carriage began to move off. Neville glanced back at the entrance to the castle. It was deserted now, except for a single solitary figure standing in the doorway. It was Dumbledore, apparently come watch his students depart. Except, Neville noticed, he wasn’t looking in the direction of the carriages, but off to the side, vaguely in the direction of the Whomping Willow and the Forbidden Forest.
Neville followed Dumbledore’s eyes, and saw another figure approaching the castle from the way Dumbledore was looking. Neville saw Dumbledore wave a greeting to the man; apparently he had been expecting him. As the man got closer to Dumbledore, Neville, rapidly being pulled away from them down the road, strained to try and make out who the man was.
Suddenly, he shouted, “No!” a cry which made everyone else in carriage jump. “No!” he yelled again. He had seen who the man was. It was Snape.
Neville stared in disbelief as Snape, the man who had openly rejoined the Death Eaters, the man who had been prepared to kill Neville himself or watch him die, reached Dumbledore, who looked to be greeting him warmly. What is Dumbledore doing? thought Neville. I told him everything that happened. Why would he possibly welcome back such a man? He remembered Dumbledore’s shocked reaction to hearing that Snape had been present in the graveyard. What had changed since then?
The two men stood talking for a moment in the doorway. Neville wanted to get off the carriage, to run back and warn Dumbledore, to stop him making such a terrible mistake, but it was too late. Neville saw Dumbledore usher Snape over the threshold into Hogwarts, just as the carriage turned a corner in the road and the castle passed out of sight.
Neville Longbottom and the Goblet of Fire by Sonorus
Chapter Notes: In which Fudge denies Voldemort’s return, and Dumbledore talks about Cedric at the Leaving Feast.
Chapter Endnotes: And so Goblet of Fire ends. Four down, three to go! Thank you as always to all my readers, especially my wonderful loyal reviewers.
I should warn you that there may be a slight delay in starting on Order of the Phoenix (not too long, I hope). I still have a few things I need to work out for the story, and I'd like to get two or three chapters written before I start submitting. It depends how much time I can find to do it. I want to get OotP right, because if I can, I think it could be really good. I'll see you there!