Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far! Especially the faithful reviewers, I really appreciate it. I know I have been taking quite a lot of material from Goblet of Fire, but I somehow can't help myself! J.K. Rowling's work fascinates me and the thought of putting my own twists and tones on the original has an odd pull. However, I am going to try and include more of my own original ideas once I start heading into Order of the Phoenix. Thanks again and enjoy!

The smell of grass filled Harry's notrils as he slammed into the ground facefirst, clutching the only two things that were real to him - the cool handle of the Triwizard Cup and Cedric's wrist...

There were roaring cheers from the crowd - What was going on? Why were they cheering?

"Harry? Harry - Are you alright?" asked someone, kneeling in the grass beside him. Hands seized him and turned him over roughly.

Blinking, Harry saw the starry sky and the half-moon spectacles of Albus Dumbledore looming above him. His scar burned dully on his forehead...Now there were voices everywhere, thundering footsteps, screams...

He was back at the edge of the maze. Harry let go of the Cup, but clutched Cedric's body to him even more tightly. Reaching up with his free hand, he grasped Dumbledore's wrist.

"He's back," Harry whispered. "He's back. Voldemort."

"What's this?" asked a voice. "What's happened?"

Harry saw the face of Cornelius Fudge appear next to Dumbledore's, white, and appalled.

"My God! Is that - but that's the Diggory boy! Dumbledore - he's dead!"

The words were repeated and soon enough, people were shouting it - screeching it - into the night - "He's dead!" "He's dead!" "Cedric Diggory! Dead!"

"Harry, let go of him," said Fudge, but Harry wouldn't. Then Dumbledore's slightly blurred face came closer.

"Harry, you can't help him now. It's over. Let go."

"He wanted me to bring him back, " Harry muttered - it seemed important to explain this. "He wanted me to bring him back to his parents - "

"That's right, Harry...just let go now..."

And with a surprising strength for someone his age, Dumbledore scooped him up and set him upright on his feet. Harry swayed, his injured leg would no longer support his weight, the crowd jostled around them, moving in closer..."What's happened?" "What's wrong with him?" "Diggory's dead!"

And then, another voice - "Harry!"

Harry blinked, trying to put them all into focus...if only for that one voice...

"Harry - !"

There seemed to be someone fighting the crowd, attempting to get through to him. Harry blinked some more - and someone grabbed his arm.

"I'll take him up to the hospital wing, Headmaster," said the someone, gruffly.

"No, Alastor, I wish Harry to remain here with me."

"Dumbledore - Diggory's parents - they're here in the stands," said Fudge loudly. "Shouldn't we - ?"

"I'll take him, sir, I'll take - "

"No, I really would prefer - "

"Amos Diggory is running - don't you think we should warn them, before they see - ?"

"Harry, stay here."

Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically...the scene flickered oddly before Harry's eyes...

"Move aside!" yelled the same voice that had been calling out to him. "Harry!"

Harry lurched on instict, feeling as though he ought to move toward that voice, as it was so desperate - someone still had an iron grip on his arm - he yanked himself away, stumbling a bit - more girls screamed. He started for the crowd, and a much gentler hand grabbed him back.

"Please, Harry," said Dumbledore, "Mr. Weasley will find his way through soon enough...I need you to stay here."

"Mister..." Harry repeated slowly. And then it dawned on him. He swallowed, his head pounding horribly. He saw a flash of red hair, and Ron came bursting through the throng of people, his face set in determination and fear. Just behind him was Hermione, who appeared to be clutching onto his hand for dear life, looking absolutely terrified.

"Harry - " Ron choked out.

Harry's injured leg buckled; Dumbledore caught him under the arm just in time to prevent him from collapsing back to the ground.

"I've got him, Professor," panted Ron, finally reaching him. He tugged one of Harry's arms over his shoulder while Hermione watched in distress, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. "It's alright, Harry, really - " he said to him, his voice shaky yet somehow soothing. "I thought - "

"You don't know - " Harry replied weakly, and it was then that he realised tears were streaming down his face as well. "You can't - you weren't there - "

"Dumbledore, I've spoken with Amos - I've warned them - they're coming - "

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger - if you would kindly take Harry up to the castle - to Madam Pomfrey," said Dumbledore, turning away from Fudge. "Do not stop or speak to anyone until you arrive, do you understand?"

"Y-yes," stammered Ron, tightening his grip. As they turned, Hermione ducked underneath Harry's other arm to help hold him up, sniffing. Together, they half-pulled, half-carried him through the frightened crowd. Harry heard people gasping, screaming, and shouting as they pushed their way through, going back up to the castle.

"What happened, Harry?" Ron asked breathlessly; they were passing the lake, the Durmstrang ship...

"Ron," Hermione said, "I don't think now's the time - "

But Harry jerked his head as they lifted him up the stone steps. "Cup was a Portkey..." he said. "Took me and Cedric to a graveyard...and Voldemort was there...Lord Voldemort..."

Ron flinched so violently, he nearly dropped Harry; Hermione had to pick up the slack, though she too looked rather ill at this piece of news.

"Killed Cedric..." Harry said, unable to help the tears that now dripped from his face. "They killed Cedric..."

"Th-that's alright, Harry, you d-don't have to t-tell us anything more," Hermione said, so shaken she could hardly speak. But Harry couldn't stop.

"Made a potion..." he said softly. "Got his body back..." He was now being lifted up the stone steps that lead them into the Entrance Hall.

"He's got his body back?" Ron whispered. "You mean he's...returned? Harry, you can't mean that, you have to have been - "

"And the Death Eaters came...and then we dueled..."

"Oh, Harry, you didn't!" gasped Hermione.

"Got away...my wand...did something funny...I saw my mum and dad...they came out of his wand..."

They were approaching the hospital wing.

"In here, Harry...in here, and sit down...You'll be alright now..."

"Good heavens!" cried Madam Pomfrey as they entered, bustling towards them from her office. "Is that - ? What is the matter with him? Here, Potter, sit down - sit down, and drink this." She seemed to evaluate the situation very quickly and sprang into action at once. Harry was forced into an armchair and felt a cup being pushed into his hands.

"Drink that, you'll feel much better."

She helped tip some of the stuff down Harry's throat; he coughed, a peppery taste burning his throat. The hospital wing came into sharper focus, as did the three people circling him. Ron and Hermione looked as white as Fudge had looked, while Madam Pomfrey surveyed him with professional concern.

"What has happened, Potter?" she asked.

"You-Know-Who's back, Harry? You're sure he's back? How did he do it?" Ron asked at the same time. Madam Pomfrey gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

Harry explained to them about the potion; his scar wasn't hurting so badly anymore - as he did so, Ron glanced down and noticed the large cut on his right arm that was still bleeding profusely.

"Oh no - Harry, your arm!" He turned to Madam Pomfrey, who seemed to have noticed it as well, for she raised her wand and summoned something from her office - a small purple bottle. She unstoppered it, and dabbed a bit of its substance gently onto Harry's wounded arm. It steamed and hissed, but Harry watched as the skin grew over it, healing. In no time at all, it looked as though the cut were several weeks old.

Just then, the door to the hospital wing burst open, and Dumbledore, Bill, Mrs. Weasley entered, accompanied by a great black dog.

"Harry! Oh, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley cried, starting to hurry towards him, but Dumbledore stepped between them.

"Molly," he said, raising a hand. "Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He is about to have to relive it for me. What he needs is peace and quiet. Of course, if he would like you all to stay with him - " he nodded towards Bill, Ron, and Hermione, " - then you are most welcome. But you are not allowed to question him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

Ron stared guiltily at the floor. Harry gently gripped his hand and gave it a squeeze. Mrs. Weasley nodded. She was as white as any of them. She rounded on everyone as though they were being noisy, and hissed, "Did you hear? He needs quiet!"

"Headmaster," said Madam Pomfrey, staring at the great dog that was Sirius. "May I ask what - ?"

"I believe it is time for one of our number to reveal himself," said Dumbledore, nodding gravely at Sirius. Harry stood up too quickly from his chair; he felt dizzy and Ron had to steady him. Sirius looked up at Dumbledore for a moment, and then transformed into his human form. Mrs. Weasley shrieked.

"Sirius Black!" She jumped back, pointing.

"Mum, shut up," said Ron. "It's alright."

"Harry," said Sirius gruffly, walking over and pulling him into a tight embrace. Ron respectfully fell back a step. Harry, so relieved and pleased to see him he could hardly speak, hugged him back with intensity. "Harry, you've worried me so much this year - I just knew that something like this would - Are you - ?"

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured to him. "Sirius - " But he broke off, unable to say anything else.

Sirius stepped back, cupping his face in two rather dirty hands, his thumb sweeping Harry's cheekbone. "I want you to have a lie down, alright? Over there..." He nodded at a hospital bed just beyond Harry, next to the chair he had been sitting in when they had arrived. Nodding, Harry moved in that direction, while Dumbledore looked very somber. Madam Pomfrey retrieved a pair of striped pajamas for him and closed the curtain around his bed to give him privacy. As quickly as he could, Harry pulled them on.

Everyone gathered around him, either standing or sitting in the comfortable-looking armchairs that Dumbledore thought to produce out of thin air. Dumbledore himself positioned himself closest to Harry, peering at him through his half-moon spectacles. When he began to speak, his voice was tired and gentle.

"Now," he said. "If I thought I could help you by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allow you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain will only make it that much worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery far beyond what I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell me what happened."

Harry felt a warm hand squeeze his shoulder as he swallowed. Looking to his right, he saw Sirius, gazing at Dumbledore intently, as though he dearly wished to argue with him but understood that it wouldn't be wise. Something inside Harry was warmed at this. Here was someone who cared a great deal about him and just wanted him to be safe. Someone who was willing to argue with Dumbledore over him...Harry thought he felt some of his aforementioned bravery returning. He looked around at everyone else gathered around him and realised - they all cared about him in some way or another. Ron was standing at the foot of his bed, gripping the posts; he looked scared, but he managed to grimace at Harry in what was obviously supposed to be encouragement.

Taking a deep breath, Harry returned his gaze to his Headmaster, and began. He told him everything that had happened, neglecting to leave out a single detail. As he spoke, he felt as if a huge weight was being lifted from his shoulders - like something poisonous was being extracted from him. And when he was finished, there was utter silence. Sirius continued to grip his shoulder almost painfully and Dumbledore appeared deep in thought. There had been a moment, when Harry had told about Voldemort using some of his blood in the potion, when he thought he'd seen a gleam of triumph in the blue eyes, but it had disappeared quite quickly...Sirius had made quite a few indignant noises throughout, as had Mrs. Weasley and Hermione. Madam Pomfrey made noises of terror. Bill and Ron, however, had remained completely silent. Harry's eyes sought the latter's. His stomach dropped.

Ron looked simply sick. His freckled face was tinged with green; he was holding onto the posts so tightly, his knuckles were white. He was staring at Harry was such fear and intensity that Harry almost recoiled, but instead, stared back, practically willing him to calm down.

"Thank you, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly. Harry's eyes flickered to him. "As I've said, you have shown extraordinary bravery, tonight. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. What you need now is a Sleeping Potion and some peace...Sirius, would you like to stay with him?"

Harry looked at Sirius, who nodded. Madam Pomfrey turned around at once and headed for her office. To retrieve the Sleeping Potion, Harry supposed.

"Good. I must be off," Dumbledore said, standing swiftly. "I have Minerva and Severus in my office, awaiting a few orders. There is a matter of who put your name into the Goblet of Fire that must be taken care of."

"But - you know who did it, sir?" Harry asked.

"I believe I have a shrewd idea," Dumbledore responded, nodding, his eyes alight and blazing. "I am about have Professor Snape fetch some of his strongest Veritaserum for Alastor Moody."

"Moody?" Harry asked, alarmed, as everyone around him gasped, including Madam Pomfrey, who had returned with a bottle and a goblet. "Wait - sir, what exactly is Veritaserum?"

"A Truth Potion, Harry. Very powerful. I would like you to get some rest now. I will tell you everything in the morning."

Harry nodded as Madam Pomfrey tipped some purple potion into the goblet and handed it to him. His mind should have been reeling, but he really didn't feel up to it much just then. Rest sounded far too wonderful...He drank a few mouthfuls of the potion and felt himself becoming drowsy at once. Everything around him became hazy; the lamps around the hospital wing seemed to be winking at him in a friendly way; his body felt as though it were sinking deeper into the feather mattress. Before he could drink any more potion, before he could even say another word, his exhaustion had carried him off to sleep.

::::::

Harry awoke, so warm, so very sleepy, that he didn't open his eyes, wanting to drop back off again. He had a feeling he hadn't been asleep for very long...Then he heard whispering around him.

"They'll wake him if they don't shut up!"

"What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?"

Harry opened his eyes blearily. Someone had removed his glasses. He could just make out the blurry outlines of Bill, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley, standing around his bed. They all seemed to be looking in the direction of the corridor beyond. That's when Harry heard the hurried footsteps and voices. Angry voices - one of them sounded like Professor McGonagall in fact, and was the other one - Fudge? But he was simply too tired to care. His head swimming lazily, he closed his eyes once more and dropped right back off to dreamless sleep.

He awoke again an indeterminate amount of time later. It can't have been too long, for it was still fairly dark; he had no clue as to why Madam Pomfrey's potion wasn't working as it was supposed to do - he'd never had a trouble before. Unless he cast aside the bottle of Skele-gro he'd taken for bone regrowth, but at least it had done the job. Blinking up at the dark blurry ceiling, Harry yawned, taking slight notice of the fact that the screen around his bed had been pulled.

"Harry?" someone whispered.

Turning his head to his left, Harry squinted. It was flat out impossible to tell whose outline it was sitting in the chair next to his bed through the screen and bad eye sight.

"Mum, I think he's awake."

The figure was still whispering, but Harry knew who it was now. Slowly, he sat up and reached for the small bedside table, feeling around its surface for his glasses. As he did so, his hand nudged up against some sort of weighty sack; he didn't give it much thought. He found his glasses and slipped them on, relieved as the room came into focus. Sweeping the screen back with one hand, he saw Ron sitting to his left, Sirius (a dog once more) curled up next to his chair, apparently sleeping, Mrs. Weasley starting toward him, and Hermione over by a far window, gazing sleepily out of it.

"Where's Bill?" Harry asked, noticing after everyone else was incredibly accounted for that the man was missing.

"Oh - Dumbledore sent him off to inform Arthur of what's - what's happened," Mrs. Weasley told him, coming to a stop in front of him, a kind expression on her face. "Harry, dear, try and go back to sleep. Do you need more of your Potion? Where is it - ?" She was scanning the bedside table, but the bottle and goblet were no longer there. Harry supposed he had drunk it all. He shook his head.

"I'm not tired," he half-lied. "Who else came in while I was asleep? I thought I heard - "

"No one, dear," Mrs. Weasley said soothingly, attempting to push him back into his pillows. "Just go to sleep now..."

"But - " Harry allowed himself to lie back. "I heard voices before. It sounded like Fudge and McGonagall - they sounded angry - "

"He doesn't sound all that exhausted, Mum, just tell him what happened," Ron interjected, leaning forward with his chin in his hand. Mrs. Weasley looked back at Harry, seemingly debating with herself.

"Alright," she sighed after a moment, "but you must go straight to sleep when I've finished, yes? Good boy. Well...it seems that you have never met the real Alastor Moody after all. He was an imposter who was planted here this year to make certain that...you came into harm. He put your name in the Goblet of Fire and helped you along without your knowing - he - He personally blasted obstacles out of your way in the maze tonight so that you would reach the cup first and be sent to Y-You-Know-Who...Dumbledore found all this out a few hours ago, he told Minerva McGonagall to stand watch over him. But Cornelius Fudge came in and - and - " Mrs. Weasley faltered, her eyes horror-filled. "Well, he brought in a Dementor with him and it - it - "

Harry insides froze. The Dementor must have administered its fatal Kiss...it was said to be absolutely terrible to behold. He nodded, swallowing, to show that he understood.

Mrs. Weasley nodded as well, looking slightly relieved. "Minerva was furious."

"I've never seen her look like that," Ron put in, shuddering. "She came bursting in here with Fudge and Snape, shouting and red-faced - and then Dumbledore came wondering what all the fuss was about. He and Fudge had a row, mate - the thing is that, now the imposter can't tell his story to proove that You-Know-Who really is...back. And Fudge refuses to believe it - "

"What?" Harry asked angrily. "I saw him, I fought him - "

"We know, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley as the black dog beside Ron raised his head. "He won't listen to reason."

"Maybe if I talk to him - " Harry actually made to get out of bed, but Mrs. Weasley pushed him back.

"It won't do any good, dear." She looked anxiously at Ron. So did Harry. Ron's ears turned red.

"Well...you see, Fudge believes all the rubbish that Skeeter woman comes out with. He - he thinks you're quite deranged."

Harry sat there, shocked. "But - but what about Dumbledore? Doesn't he believe Dumbledore?"

Ron shook his head. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Fudge? The little portly man who had once let him off the hook for blowing up his aunt was refusing, point-blank, to accept that he was telling the truth about someone as crucial as this? He actually thought that Harry was mad?

"He reckons Dumbledore's got a bit old. So, anyway, they rowed and then Fudge dropped your winnings off before storming out - " Harry glanced at the weighty sack on his bedside table." - Dumbledore made Sirius transform in front of Snape and McGonagall, so they know about him now as well. Snape and Sirius didn't seem to like each other much, though - I think they went to school together." Sirius chose that moment to growl menacingly, deep in his throat. "Then Dumbledore sent Snape off to do something, and Bill to tell Dad, and McGonagall to get Hagrid and Madam Maxime into his office. And that - that was it really."

"But - " Harry was overwhelmed. He couldn't seem to find words to express what he was feeling, what he wanted to ask or say. So he simply asked the first thing to come to his mind. "Where's the real Moody? Is he alright?"

"They found him in the bottom of the imposter's trunk. You know the one?" Ron asked. "It's been in his office all year. He's fine. He's over there, actually - "

Harry turned to look where Ron was pointing and saw a dark mass occupying one of the beds opposite them. "But - what are we going to do if Fudge doesn't come to his senses? He's going to be telling everyone we're lying, isn't he? No one is going to know - we've got to prepare, haven't we?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded sadly. "Fudge's reaction complicates matters. We'll simply have to do the best we can, dear." Harry felt the feathered mattress dip as she had a seat next to him. He looked over at Sirius, who was staring up at him with big puppy dog eyes. "What you need is a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while...think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"

"I don't want that gold," Harry said in an expressionless voice. "You can have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't've won it. It should've been Cedric's.

The thing he had been fighting on and off since he had emerged from the maze was now threatening to overcome him. He could feel a burning, pricking feeling in the inner corners of his eyes. He blinked and stared up at the ceiling again.

"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Mrs. Weasley whispered.

"I told him to take the cup with me," Harry said.

Now the burning was in his throat too. He sort of wished Ron would look away; he'd cried too much in front of him to be entirely comfortable.

Mrs. Weasley sniffed, bent down, and put her arms around him. He had no memory of ever being hugged like this, as though by a mother. The full weight of everything he had seen that night seemed to fall in upon him as Mrs. Weasley held him to her. His mother's face, his father's voice, the sight of Cedric, dead on the ground all started spinning in his head until he could hardly bear it, until he was screwing up his face against the howl of misery fighting to get out of him.

Simultaneously, there was a loud scraping and slamming noise. Mrs. Weasley and Harry broke apart. Ron had scooted his chair closer to the bed to be closer to Harry, and Hermione was still standing by the window. She was holding something tight in her hand.

"Sorry," they both whispered.

Mrs. Weasley wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and stood. "I'm going to see Poppy about getting you some more Potion, alright?"

He nodded blankly and turned his head toward Ron once she had left. He felt the mattress dip again as Sirius jumped up onto the foot of the bed. Harry watched as he curled up next to his feet, his body warm and comforting. He nudged Harry's toes through the sheets with his snout, drawing a small chuckle from him. He turned back to Ron, who gripped his hand gently.

"I'm not too great with words, Harry..." he said, bending close to him.

"You're brilliant," Harry whispered back, returning the pressure on his hand. "You all didn't have to stay here with me...you should have gone on to bed as well."

"Don't be thick." Ron's voice was so choked with emotion that Harry, who had managed to get a grip on his tears, had to fight the burning sensation once more.

"Ron, listen - "

Mrs. Weasley reemerged from Madam Pomfrey's office with more Sleep Potion and a goblet. She set them both on the bedside table, quietly.

"When you're ready, Harry," she told him. Then she turned and spotted Sirius on his bed. She pursed her lips, but refrained from saying anything. Harry thought perhaps she was concerned about fleas or something of that nature. "I'm going to go home to Arthur. Do get some rest, dear, and I'll see you a few weeks time no doubt."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said with fierce sincerity. She nodded at him and ran a hand through his hair once before going over to smother Ron. With one last warm goodbye to Hermione, she swept from the room. Harry suspected she was still a bit nervous around Sirius - after all, until a few hours ago, she'd thought him a convicted murderer.

Hermione came toward them, still clutching something tight in her hand. "Harry?" she asked quietly. "D'you mind if I leave too? I'm really glad you're okay - I'm just so - so t-tired - " she said around a huge yawn. "And there's something I need to do before I turn in."

"Sure," Harry told her. "What have you got to do?"

"Oh - just - well, I'll explain later," she said, and he and Ron exchanged exasperated looks. "I promise! Goodnight." And she followed Mrs. Weasley out the door.

Ron turned back to him. "Don't you hate it when she does that?"

Harry smiled a little. There was something wonderful about the familiarity of the whole thing...Ron gripped his hand again, leaning very close to him. "Want your potion?" he asked, raising Harry's hand to his lips and speaking against it. Harry concentrated on the feeling of Ron's lips on his skin - he hadn't felt it in weeks and weeks. He shook his head.

"In a moment."

Ron softly kissed his knuckes, pressing them to his face. Harry's stomach swooped. He kissed them once more before lowering their hands to the mattress.

Quietly, discreetly, Sirius began crawling toward them on his belly. Harry started when he felt the bed move, having nearly forgotten that his godfather was there. The black dog reached them, stopping with his paws out in front of him as if he were begging. Harry and Ron stared at him, wondering what he wanted. Sirius broke Harry's gaze by lowering his head and nudging gently at their conjoined hands. He gave a low rumbling growl. Did he want them to part? Somehow, Harry didn't think so - he was being far to gentle about it. He gripped Ron's hand tightly, and knew that he was right in doing so when Sirius licked Ron's thumb. Incredibly, Harry found himself beaming. Sirius saw this and bounded forward to lick his face.

"Hey, hey - get off - !"

Ron was laughing softly, and Sirius turned to him instead, barking at a similar volume. He wagged his tail, clearly hoping that Ron would pet him. Ron did so with enthusiasm, scratching behind his ears for good measure. When he was finished, Sirius flopped down right beside Harry, snuggling into him with his warm head resting on his middle.

"So you're quite happy about it, then?" Harry teased. Sirius wagged his tail once. Harry scratched him behind the ears as Ron had done, feeling suddenly sleepy.

He swallowed his potion in one gulp. The effect was instantaneous. Heavy, irresistable waves of dreamless sleep broke over him; he pressed deeply into his pillows and thought no more.

::::::

Harry had trouble remembering much of the next few days. There was a horrible meeting with Cedric's parents the day following Voldemort's return, during which Mr. Diggory was sobbing the whole time and Mrs. Diggory's grief seemed to be beyond years. He'd tried to give them his Triwizard winnings, but they'd refused to accept it, saying that it was rightfully his.

According to Ron and Hermione, that morning, Dumbledore had given a speech requesting that everyone leave Harry alone, meaning there were to be no questions about what went on in the maze. Harry was rather grateful, though his classmates now skirted him in the corridors, avoiding his gaze, whispering and pointing. He supposed they thought him quite as mad as Fudge. He liked it best when he was with Ron and Hermione, talking about nothing, or just sitting in silence while they played a game of chess. The three of them had seemed to reach an understanding that didn't need to be put into words.

As they now had no Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, they had those lessons free. They used one on a Thursday afternoon to go down and visit Hagrid. He was overjoyed to see them. He welcomed them in, offering some of his horrible rock cakes and a cup of tea, which they politely accepted. Harry was very glad they had gone down to see him; Hagrid had always been able to cheer him up a bit, or at least put a smile on his face for the time being.

The end-of-year feast was excellent as usual. But the Hall, instead of being decorated with the colors of the winner of the House Cup, was draped with black hangings as a mark of respect to Cedric. Harry's throat tightened when he saw them, and wasn't helped along when Dumbledore stood to give a stirring speech in his honor. Harry happened to glance over at the Ravenclaw table and caught, with a pang, a glimpse of Cho Chang crying silently.

Then, finally, they were on the train home. Harry, Ron, and Hermione found their usual compartment and took their seats, with similiar feelings of relief. Almost as soon as Hermione had closed the door behind them, Harry found himself slumping, leaning on Ron, his head falling onto his shoulder. Hermione tiptoed to her seat with a small smile as though afraid she would disturb him. Pigwideon was hooting in his cage, covered by Ron's dress robes, Hedwig was already fast asleep with her head under her wing, and Crookshanks lay curled up like some furry, ginger cushion.

"D'you think I could come stay with you again this summer?" Harry asked hopefully.

"If you didn't, I reckon Ginny and me would drive each other bonkers," Ron said. "Mum's already asked Dumbledore if you could to come to us straightaway, but he says he'd like you to stay with the Dursleys. At least at first. Shut up, Pig."

Harry's heart sank. "Why?"

"I dunno, but I suppose we've got to trust him, haven't we?"

Harry sighed. Hermione leaned forward and patted his knee, her expression sympathetic. She then sat back and reached into her bag. Harry watched warily as she pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet. Hermione noticed this and rushed to say, "Oh, don't worry. There's nothing in there. You can check if you like. Just a small piece the day after you won the Tournament - "

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Are you ever going to tell us what you found out about - ?" Ron started to ask.

"Yes," said Hermione at once. "Erm - actually, it was you who gave me the idea, Harry."

"Me?" he asked incredulously. "What'd I say?"

"Bugging," said Hermione happily.

"But you said they didn't work - "

"No, not electronic bugs," she said. "No, you see...Rita Skeeter" - Hermione's voice trembling with quiet triumph - "is an unregistered Animagus. She can turn - " She pulled a small sealed glass jar out of her bag. " - into a beetle."

"You're kidding," said Ron. "You haven't - she's not - "

"Oh, yes, she is," said Hermione, brandishing the jar at them. Inside the jar were a few leaves and twigs, and one large, fat beetle.

"That's never - you're kidding - " Ron whispered, lifting the jar to his eyes.

"No, I'm not." Hermione was beaming. "If you look closely, you'll notice that the marking around its eyes are exactly like those foul glasses she wears. I caught her on the windowsill of the hospital wing."

Harry looked and saw that she was right. He also remembered something.

"There was a beetle on the statue the night we heard Hagrid telling Madame Maxime about his mum!"

"Exactly," said Hermione. "And Viktor pulled a beetle out of my hair after we'd had our conversation by the lake. And unless I'm very much mistaken, Rita was perched on the windowsill of the Divination class the day your scar hurt. She's been buzzing around for stories all year."

"And I'll bet - " Harry said to Ron, whose eyes were very wide, " - she was somewhere around the night after the Second Task. Probably on the windowsill in our dormitory, watching us. That's how she knew so soon - "

"Blimey," said Ron weakly, flushing. "You don't reckon she went into that room with us, do you? The day we cut Snape's class?"

Both Harry and Hermione flushed at that. "I - I don't think so. Very few people know about that room..."

Ron's face relaxed. "Good."

Hermione took the jar back from him; Rita buzzed angrily against the glass. "I've told her I'll let her out when we get to London. I've also put an Unbreakable Charm on the glass so she can't transform. She's not allowed to use her quill for an entire year unless she wants me to spill the beans on her."

The door to the compartment opened.

"Very clever, Granger," said Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were standing just behind him. They looked more pleased, more proud and arrogant than Harry had ever seen them. "You've caught some pathetic reporter, and Potter's Dumbledore's favorite boy again. Big deal." His smirk was pronounced. "Trying not to think about it, are we? Trying to pretend it hasn't happened?"

"Get out," said Harry.

"You've picked the losing side, Potter! I warned you! I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this!" He jerked his head at Ron, then Hermione. "Too late now, Potter! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Especially when they figure out what you've got going with this Muggle-lover," he spat, pointing at Ron. "It's Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well - second - Diggory was the f - "

It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment. A blaze of spells blasted in every direction, a series of bangs sounded and Harry blinked and looked down at the floor. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all lying unconcious in the doorway. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all on their feet, all three of them having used a different hex at the same time. Nor were they the only ones to have done so.

"Thought we'd come and see what those three were up to," said George, stepping into the compartment, Fred just behind him. The latter made sure to tread carefully upon Malfoy's fingers. "Who used the Furnunculus Curse?"

"Me," said Harry.

"Odd," said George lightly. "I used Jelly-Legs. Looks like the two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor."

Ron, Harry, and George kicked, rolled, and pushed the unconcious Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle out into the corridor, then came back into the compartment and rolled the door shut.

"Exploding Snap, anyone?" said Fred, pulling out a pack of cards.

The rest of the journey passed pleasantly enough; Harry wished it could have gone on all summer, in fact, and that he would never arrive at King's Cross...but as he had learned the hard way that year, time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead, and all too soon, the Hogwarts Express was pulling in at platform nine and three-quarters. The usual confusion and noise filled the corridors as the students began to disembark. Ron and Hermione struggled out past Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, carrying their trunks. Harry, however, stayed put.

"Fred - George - wait a moment."

The twins turned. Harry pulled open his trunk and drew out his Triwizard winnings.

"Take it," he said, and he thrust the sack into George's hands.

"What?" said Fred, looking flabbergasted.

"Take it," Harry repeated firmly. "I don't want it."

"You're mental," said George, trying to push it back at Harry.

"No, I'm not," said Harry. "You take it, and get inventing. It's for the joke shop."

"He is mental," Fred said in an almost awed voice.

"Listen," said Harry firmly. "If you don't take it, I'm tossing it down the drain. I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I've got a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long."

The twins stared at him.

"Just don't tell your mum where you got it...although she might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry anymore, come to think of it..."

"Harry," Fred began, but Harry pulled out his wand.

"Look," he said flatly, "take it or I'll hex you. I know some good ones now. Just do me one favor, okay? Buy Ron some different dress robes and say they're from you." He left the compartment before they could say another word, stepping over Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were still lying on the floor, covered in hex marks.

Uncle Vernon was waiting beyond the barrier. Mrs. Weasley was close by him. She hugged Harry very tightly when she saw him and whispered in his ear, "I think Dumbledore will let you come to us later in the summer. Keep in touch, Harry."

"Bye, Harry!" said Hermione, and she did something she had never done before, and kissed him on the cheek.

"See you, Harry," Ron murmured, before pulling him into a fierce hug. Harry hugged him back, wishing dearly that he didn't have to let go. But let go he did.

"Harry - thanks," George muttered, while Fred nodded fervently at his side. Harry winked at them, turned to Uncle Vernon, who was eyeing Ron suspiciously, and followed him silently from the station. There was no point worrying yet, he told himself, as he got into the back of the Dursleys' car.

As Hagrid had said during their visit, what would come would come...and he would have to meet it when it did.