"Um… I don't think I said anything about a graveyard Professor."

The words hung in the air and Harry instantly regretted saying them. Something was wrong. Seriously wrong.

Why was Moody asking him all these questions? Why was he so interested in Lord Voldemort?

….

Moody knew something…and Harry hadn't mentioned the graveyard….how would he know…?

Unless…

Harry shook the thoughts from his head as his professor moved near him.

"Marvellous creatures dragons aren't they? …Do you think that miserable oaf would have led you into the woods if I hadn't suggested it? …Do you think Cedric Diggory would have told you to hold the egg under the water if I hadn't have told him first myself? Do you think Neville Longbottom the witless wonder could have provided you with gilliweed if I hadn't have given him the book that led you straight to it? …Huh?"

Harry stared at Moody in shock as he recollected memories from not too long ago…

He moved away from Moody, backing against the wall, as his professor smiled at him in an eerie manner.

"It-it was you from the beginning. Y-You put my name in the goblet of fire. You bewitched Krum. But..."

Harry felt like hitting himself. It was obvious. So obvious….why hadn't he seen it before? But still….

He frowned as Moody imitated Harry with sobbing noises.

"Oh boo hoo……" Moody suddenly stopped with the impression and grinned, all whilst moving forward towards Harry.

"You won because I made it so, Potter. You ended up in that graveyard tonight because it was meant to be so. And now the deed is done. The blood that runs through these veins runs within the dark lord. Imagine how he will reward me when he learns that I have once and for all silenced the great Harry Potter." Moody smiled as he ranted on.

Harry prayed that someone would come in. Surely Dumbledore would have figured this out by now….someone had to come…had to help…

But no one was…

Suddenly Moody knelt forward, clutching his sides, groaning.

Harry knew this was his chance to escape…

He ran for the door, oblivious to the fact that the person he had thought was Mad Eye Moody had just morphed back into his former self. Barty Crouch Junior.

Harry fiddled with the metal lock on the door, but to no avail. It wasn't opening. He looked around desperately for his wand but couldn't see it.

"Looking for this…?" a voice said. But it wasn't Professor Moody's.

Harry turned slowly, and Barty Crouch Junior smiled at the surprise etched on the young Potter's face.

He held up Harry's wand and twirled it in his fingers, watching Harry's face fall at the same time.

Harry moved forward, as if to retrieve his wand, but then stopped and held his arms out.

"Go on. Kill me then. Get it over with." He choked, knowing there was no way out of this. He closed his eyes, failing to notice the slight gleam in Barty's.

Barty Junior was impressed with this boy's courage. He could remember times when he had put his life on the line willingly for the Dark Lord. But there was something else about Harry... It couldn't be explained.

There were so many emotions wrapped up in that boy's head, that he couldn't see who the boy really was. He raised his wand, but then an idea struck him and he smirked, letting his arm fall to his side.

"No Potter. You won't die tonight." He said. He knew the Dark Lord would be pleased with his plan.

Harry heard what Barty had said, but still he didn't believe it. He opened his eyes suspiciously, and glanced at Barty's wand.

God, he wished Sirius and Remus were here. Or Dumbledore. Or Ron and Hermione. Anyone really…

Barty Jr suddenly raised his wand arm and Harry felt ropes tie themselves around his body.

He fell to the floor, struggling, and Barty knelt down and forced the boy to look at him, while taking a little glass vial with purple contents out of his pocket.

"Time to sleep Harry." He said quietly, then smirking, he poured the contents forcibly down Harry's throat, making sure he swallowed it.

Harry spluttered for a bit, and tried to get away, but soon he felt himself growing drowsy, and his struggling grew weaker. He stared at Barty's face before blackness consumed him. …and then peace.


Dumbledore knew something wasn't right. And it wasn't just the young Diggory's death…there was another issue raising in his mind, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was.

He sighed solemnly at the parents of Cedric, who were now openly sobbing over the boy's body, whilst people crowded around and stared silently at the boy.

Fudge and a wizard Dumbledore didn't recognise were talking to each other, stern expressions on their faces, occasionally glancing at Diggory's parents, before returning to their conversation.

Rita Skeeter was also looking solemn, but had a slight gleam in her eye as she started writing about this new story.

Dumbledore felt an insufferable rage inside, and calmly walked over to the Skeeter woman.

She glanced at him.

"Hello Dumbledore." She said.

"Hello Rita. I trust you know what I'm here to talk to you about."

Rita sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Albus, this is the story of a lifetime. Its important that the public know about this."

"…But it is also important that you give the parents some time to mourn their loss. They will not appreciate it if their son's death is suddenly spread on the news. Give them time before you report on this."

Rita paused for a moment and looked at Dumbledore thoughtfully.

"A-all right." She said, slowly and regretfully, then nodded.

"But as soon as they are ready to let the people know, owl me." She said, then winked. She motioned for the cameraman to pack up their things, then turning back to Dumbledore, she smiled.

"Good luck with dealing with this, Albus." She said. Then, as an afterthought she asked, "Where's Potter by the way?"

Dumbledore froze. His smile faded as he remembered Harry being dragged away by Moody…

He glanced around. He couldn't see Harry anywhere.

"Alas, Rita, I fear I have made yet another dreadful mistake." He said, before rushing off to collect Professor McGonagall and Snape.

As he led the two professors he calculated in his head everything that had happened in the past few weeks and felt furious with himself.

He had to find Harry. And fast.

As the trio reached Moody's office, they took their wands out, and Snape performed a simple spell to knock down the door.

They all rushed in, wands raised, but there was nothing…

Moody's office didn't hold Moody or Harry…

Dumbledore cursed to himself, as he looked around for any clue to what had happened. Then, something caught his eye. As he bent down to retrieve it, he noted that this small locket on the floor was…a portkey. It had been used. But yet, portkeys couldn't be used inside Hogwarts…

Someone had obviously done something to this portkey. Powerful magic no less. He frowned.

Cursing for the second time again that day, he stood up and brushed past the two confused Professors, to his office, where he knew the joy of contacting Sirius Black and Remus Lupin would soon need to be dealt with.

The Boy Who Lived was missing. Kidnapped. And he hadn't been able to help him.

Albus sighed and ran his hands through his beard…a habit he had only recently gotten used to.

Then, using the fire network, he requested to talk with Sirius and Remus.

Instantly their heads popped up in the fire.

"What's up?" asked Sirius, acknowledging the worried face of his old headmaster.

Dumbledore recited nothing but the facts.

"S-so what you're saying, Albus, is that Harry won the tournament alongside with Cedric, appeared with his body after half an hour or so, after which Moody took him away and now…hes…gone..?" stuttered a concerned Remus.

"Precisely." Replied Albus, his eyes showing how grave the situation was. But he didn't stop there…

"I also believe that this person was not Moody. Snape regretted to inform me that for some time now a lot of his ingredients in his potions cupboard have gone missing-"

"What does that have to do with anything..?" asked Sirius, in an impatient and agitated way.

Dumbledore listed a few ingredients and Remus turned pale. Sirius looked at his friend.

"What is it? Whats wrong?" he asked, nearly shouting.

"…that's a list…for…the polyjuice potion." Muttered Remus, eyes cast downward, as if adding up all the facts.

Dumbledore nodded and Sirius turned pale as well.

"Wh-who would have needed it? Who-"

Dumbledore held up his hand.

"I have reason to believe it was a death eater. Someone who has joined forces with Voldemort." He said carefully.

Sirius exploded.

"YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!" He exclaimed, "Wouldn't anyone have noticed? Seen the way this person acted? Surely anyone as smart as you, Dumbledore would have realised-"

"That's enough Sirius. This is no time for arguments. I feel it is vital that you both arrive at Hogwarts as soon as possible. For Harry's sake. You two are the closest thing he has to family." Dumbledore said.

Remus and Sirius looked at each other and nodded, then turned back to Dumbledore.

"We'll be there as soon as we can." Exclaimed Remus. Then he and Sirius disappeared from the fire like they had never even been there in the first place.

"I hope so," Albus murmured, "I hope so."


Barty sat watching the boy for some time. Harry Potter reminded himself of when he was younger. Smart, energetic….but very…tense. It was like the boy could snap anytime. Barty smiled at that. This boy had a lot of power to wield. He also had a lot of family problems, just like Barty.

Well, Barty smirked, I had family problems. His father had been dealt with. He had taken revenge on his father for condemning him to that awful Azkaban. His father was now dead.

He almost laughed at the joy it brought him, but a movement from Harry brought him back to his senses.

He stood up and walked to the corner of the dark room, fumbling around in the darkness before his hands closed on another glass vial.

Harry was almost fully awake now, blinking tiredly and taking in his surroundings.

"Where…How…" he started, as he sat up, back against the wall. He spotted Barty and froze.

Barty saw the boy instinctively reach for his wand, but fail to find it. He smiled. Harry seemed to have good senses.

He pointed his wand over his shoulder at the teenage boy and muttered a spell to tie Harry up again.

Harry protested and struggled, determined to get free of the ropes.

Barty Jr pulled up a stool in front of Harry and watched him for a little while longer, waiting for the boy to tire.

When Harry finally realised he couldn't move around much, Barty waited expectantly for an angry outburst. He didn't have to wait too long.

"What do you want from me! Let me go! What the hell-"

Barty ran his hands through his dark brown hair and popped open the cap for the glass vial.

Harry stared at the potion.

"What is that?" he muttered after a while.

"It's a sleeping potion. I gave it to you earlier before I took the portkey here."

"You didn't give it to me. You forced me to drink it." Harry spat, voice full of anger.

Barty rolled his eyes.

"Needed to get you to shut up. And because you're not now, maybe I should give you a few more drops…"

Harry grimaced, remembering the awful taste of the liquid, and reminded himself that if he wanted to see what was happening or going on he needed to stay awake. If that meant not talking, then so be it.

Barty could see the boy was in deep thought, so he stood up and moved to look out of a tiny window of the room.

After a while, he looked at his watch, remembering he had a…meeting.

He moved closer to Harry who was giving him angry looks, and then forced the boy's head back so he could pour the potion down his throat. The boy looked really angry now, and spat the contents out in Barty's face.

"Warn me before you do that again." Harry said, trying to suppress his laughter at the sight of Barty Jr, one of Voldemorts highest ranked Death Eaters, with purple liquid dripping down his face. But his rage quickly consumed the humour. He thought about Neville's parents and all the other innocent people that had died because of this man.

Barty didn't feel amused. Potter had just spat this back in his face. The boy will soon learn to do as he's told, he reminded himself.

Grabbing Harry's hair, he made sure he couldn't do anything but swallow, and Harry tried to fight him off.

But he had won. Harry started feeling tired again, and slowly his shoulders slumped, and he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. In a few seconds he was asleep.

Barty checked his watch, and made it out that he had about 4 hours until the sleeping draught finished. He left the room in a hurry, knowing that Lord Voldemort did not like to be kept waiting.


Voldemort stood impatiently in the graveyard, in the middle of his circle of death eaters, silent but furious.

The Potter boy had gotten away from him again. He hated to admit it, but the boy may be stronger then he, Lord Voldemort, had thought.

He glanced around at all his loyal followers. The circle had gotten smaller. A lot smaller. Many people were missing, and he certainly knew they weren't late.

Sighing, he pulled out his wand, and cast the crucio curse at a death eater who had been shuffling around uncomfortably for the past few minutes.

The man screamed and gasped on the ground for a few seconds before being let off the curse, and regaining his stand.

He bowed towards Lord Voldemort and in a small voice, apologised.

Voldemort could easily detect a glimmer of fear from every death eater, and inside, he smiled. Good, he thought. Let them know how strong I am.

A small pop broke the cold silence, and a figure shuffled through the darkness, dressed in Death Eater robes.

"Who are you?" Voldemort spat, watching the figure bow before him.

The person stood up and pulled down his hood. Every Death Eater gasped in surprise, and Voldemort smiled.

"Welcome back Barty."

"Thankyou My Lord. Glad to be back"

Barty looked at the Dark Lord with a mixture of emotions. Voldemort stood before him in flesh and blood. He felt joy, fear, and excitement all at the same time.

Voldemort was pleased that there was at least one Death Eater who was pleased to see him. He thought of Barty as a brother….or a son. But he would never mention it to any one.

"Do you have news, my friend?" Voldemort asked.

Barty glanced around at the few people.

"My Lord, not to offend you, but I would prefer to talk in private."

Voldemort was surprised.

"Very well then." He said. He looked at the surrounding figures, and they all bowed before vanishing.

"What is so important that you must tell me in private, Barty?"

Barty smiled.

"Harry Potter."

Voldemort stared at Barty. Surely he hadn't…

"My Lord, I have kidnapped the boy from Hogwarts. He is currently sitting in a temporary residence I have rented out. Dumbledore was too late to realise I had the boy, and by then I had forced him a sleeping potion and taken a tampered portkey out of the school."

"Barty…I am amazed. Truly. But...why have you not killed the boy yet?"

Barty knew this was going to be hard to explain.

"I was struck with an idea. I've seen the kid, these past few months. Watched him. Seen his friends. His life. I also know he is suffering many emotional conflicts right now. I think … it may be possible for us to…"

Voldemort snorted.

"You think we can turn him to our side?" he asked, disbelievingly.

Barty nodded, silently.

Voldemort laughed.

"Do you think I have not tried, Barty? Do you think I have not tried to persuade the boy to turn? Join my forces? Become one of us? He refused. And I am not one to forgive. There is no possible reason for him to turn now. Nothing has changed."

Voldemort almost spat out every word, and Barty nearly flinched.

"My Lord," he said slowly, "This time you have me. And, I have a plan."

Voldemort frowned.

"It will not work."

Barty persisted, being careful not to push Voldemort too far.

After some slow thought, Voldemort replied.

"If you wish to try, then I will not hold you back…But first, you must discuss with me what you want to happen. And then, you shall bring the boy here."

"Yes, my Lord."

Barty grinned in a child like manner that really made him seem like the mad man he was meant to be. Voldemort knew that this man was one of his strongest Death Eaters.

Voldemort turned and headed over to a large, dark building, beckoning Barty to come with him.