The Goblet of Fire

by J. K. Rowling

  ‘Get up, Mr Crouch,’ said Harry loudly and clearly. ‘Get up, I’ll take you to Dumbledore!’

  Mr Crouch’s eyes rolled forwards onto Harry.

  ‘Who … you?’ he whispered.

  ‘I’m a student at the school,’ said Harry, looking around at Krum for some help, but Krum was hanging back, looking extremely nervous.

  ‘You’re not … his?’ whispered Crouch, his mouth sagging.

  ‘No,’ said Harry, without the faintest idea what Crouch was talking about.

  ‘Dumbledore’s?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Harry.

  Crouch was pulling him closer; Harry tried to loosen Crouch’s grip on his robes, but it was too powerful.

  ‘Warn … Dumbledore …’

  ‘I’ll get Dumbledore if you let go of me,’ said Harry. ‘Just let go, Mr Crouch, and I’ll get him …’

  ‘Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are attending a concert tonight with Mr and Mrs Fudge.’ Crouch was now talking fluently to a tree again, and seemed completely unaware that Harry was there, which surprised Harry so much he didn’t notice that Crouch had released him. ‘Yes, my son has recently gained twelve O.W.Ls, most satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, very proud indeed. Now, if you could bring me that memo from the Andorran Minister for Magic, I think I will have time to draft a response …’

  ‘You stay here with him!’ Harry said to Krum. ‘I’ll get Dumbledore, I’ll be quicker, I know where his office is –’

  ‘He is mad,’ said Krum doubtfully, staring down at Crouch, who was still gabbling to the tree, apparently convinced it was Percy.

  ‘Just stay with him,’ said Harry, starting to get up, but his movement seemed to trigger another abrupt change in Mr Crouch, who seized him hard around the knees and pulled Harry back to the ground.

  ‘Don’t … leave … me!’ he whispered, his eyes bulging again. ‘I … escaped … must warn … must tell … see Dumbledore … my fault … all my fault … Bertha … dead … all my fault … my son … my fault … tell Dumbledore … Harry Potter … the Dark Lord … stronger … Harry Potter …’

  ‘I’ll get Dumbledore if you let me go, Mr Crouch!’ said Harry. He looked furiously around at Krum. ‘Help me, will you?’

  Looking extremely apprehensive, Krum moved forward and squatted down next to Mr Crouch.

  ‘Just keep him here,’ said Harry, pulling himself free of Mr Crouch. ‘I’ll be back with Dumbledore.’

  ‘Hurry, von’t you?’ Krum called after him, as Harry sprinted away from the Forest, and up through the dark grounds. They were deserted; Bagman, Cedric and Fleur had disappeared. Harry tore up the stone steps, through the oak front doors and off up the marble staircase, towards the second floor.

  Five minutes later he was hurtling towards a stone gargoyle standing halfway along an empty corridor.

  ‘Sher-sherbet lemon!’ he panted at it.

  This was the password to the hidden staircase to Dumbledore’s office – or, at least, it had been two years ago. The password had evidently changed, however, for the stone gargoyle did not spring to life and jump aside, but stood frozen, glaring at Harry malevolently.

  ‘Move!’ Harry shouted at it. ‘C’mon!’

  But nothing at Hogwarts had ever moved just because he shouted at it; he knew it was no good. He looked up and down the dark corridor. Perhaps Dumbledore was in the staff room? He started running as fast as he could towards the staircase –

  ‘POTTER!’

  Harry skidded to a halt and looked around.

  Snape had just emerged from the hidden staircase behind the stone gargoyle. The wall was sliding shut behind him even as he beckoned Harry back towards him. ‘What are you doing here, Potter?’

  ‘I need to see Professor Dumbledore!’ said Harry, running back up the corridor and skidding to a standstill in front of Snape instead. ‘It’s Mr Crouch … he’s just turned up … he’s in the Forest … he’s asking –’

  ‘What is this rubbish?’ said Snape, his black eyes glittering. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Mr Crouch!’ Harry shouted. ‘From the Ministry! He’s ill or something – he’s in the Forest, he wants to see Dumbledore! Just give me the password up to –’

  ‘The Headmaster is busy, Potter,’ said Snape, his thin mouth curling into an unpleasant smile.

  ‘I’ve got to tell Dumbledore!’ Harry yelled.

  ‘Didn’t you hear me, Potter?’

  Harry could tell Snape was thoroughly enjoying himself, denying Harry the thing he wanted when he was so panicky.

  ‘Look,’ said Harry angrily, ‘Crouch isn’t right – he’s – he’s out of his mind – he says he wants to warn –’

  The stone wall behind Snape slid open. Dumbledore was standing there, wearing long green robes, and a mildly curious expression.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ he said, looking between Harry and Snape.

  ‘Professor!’ Harry said, side-stepping Snape before Snape could speak. ‘Mr Crouch is here – he’s down in the Forest, he wants to speak to you!’

  Harry expected Dumbledore to ask questions but, to his relief, Dumbledore did nothing of the sort. ‘Lead the way,’ he said promptly, and he swept off along the corridor behind Harry, leaving Snape standing next to the gargoyle and looking twice as ugly.

  ‘What did Mr Crouch say, Harry?’ said Dumbledore, as they walked swiftly down the marble staircase.

  ‘Said he wants to warn you … said he’s done something terrible … he mentioned his son … and Bertha Jorkins … and – and Voldemort … something about Voldemort getting stronger …’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Dumbledore, and he quickened his pace as they hurried out into the pitch-darkness.

  ‘He’s not acting normally,’ Harry said, hurrying along beside Dumbledore. ‘He doesn’t seem to know where he is. He keeps talking like he thinks Percy Weasley’s there, and then he changes, and says he needs to see you … I left him with Viktor Krum.’

  ‘You did?’ said Dumbledore sharply, and he began to take longer strides still, so that Harry was running to keep up. ‘Do you know if anybody else saw Mr Crouch?’

  ‘No,’ said Harry. ‘Krum and I were talking, Mr Bagman had just finished telling us about the third task, we stayed behind, and then we saw Mr Crouch coming out of the Forest –’

  ‘Where are they?’ said Dumbledore, as the Beauxbatons carriage emerged from the darkness.

  ‘Over here,’ said Harry, moving in front of Dumbledore, leading the way through the trees. He couldn’t hear Crouch’s voice any more, but he knew where he was going; it hadn’t been much past the Beauxbatons carriage … somewhere around here …

  ‘Viktor?’ Harry shouted.

  No one answered.

  ‘They were here,’ Harry said to Dumbledore. ‘They were definitely somewhere around here …’

  ‘Lumos,’ Dumbledore said, lighting his wand and holding it up.

  Its narrow beam travelled from black trunk to black trunk, illuminating the ground. And then it fell upon a pair of feet.

  Harry and Dumbledore hurried forwards. Krum was sprawled on the Forest floor. He seemed to be unconscious. There was no sign at all of Mr Crouch. Dumbledore bent over Krum and gently lifted one of his eyelids.

  ‘Stunned,’ he said softly. His half-moon glasses glittered in the wandlight as he peered around at the surrounding trees.

  ‘Should I go and get someone?’ said Harry. ‘Madam Pomfrey?’

  ‘No,’ said Dumbledore swiftly. ‘Stay here.’

  He raised his wand into the air and pointed it in the direction of Hagrid’s cabin. Harry saw something silvery dart out of it and streak away through the trees like a ghostly bird. Then Dumbledore bent over Krum again, pointed his wand at him, and muttered, ‘Rennervate.’

  Krum opened his eyes. He looked dazed. When he saw Dumbledore, he tried to sit up, but Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder and made him
lie still.

  ‘He attacked me!’ Krum muttered, putting a hand up to his head. ‘The old madman attacked me! I vos looking around to see vare Potter had gone and he attacked from behind!’

  ‘Lie still for a moment,’ Dumbledore said.

  The sound of thunderous footfalls reached them, and Hagrid came panting into sight with Fang at his heels. He was carrying his crossbow.

  ‘Professor Dumbledore!’ he said, his eyes widening. ‘Harry – what the –?’

  ‘Hagrid, I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff,’ said Dumbledore. ‘His student has been attacked. When you’ve done that, kindly alert Professor Moody –’

  ‘No need, Dumbledore,’ said a wheezy growl, ‘I’m here.’ Moody was limping towards them, leaning on his staff, his wand lit.

  ‘Damn leg,’ he said furiously. ‘Would’ve been here quicker … what’s happened? Snape said something about Crouch –’

  ‘Crouch?’ said Hagrid blankly.

  ‘Karkaroff, please, Hagrid!’ said Dumbledore sharply.

  ‘Oh yeah … right y’are, Professor …’ said Hagrid, and he turned and disappeared into the dark trees, Fang trotting after him.

  ‘I don’t know where Barty Crouch is,’ Dumbledore told Moody, ‘but it is essential that we find him.’

  ‘I’m onto it,’ growled Moody, and he raised his wand, and limped off into the Forest.

  Neither Dumbledore nor Harry spoke again until they heard the unmistakeable sounds of Hagrid and Fang returning. Karkaroff was hurrying along behind them. He was wearing his sleek silver furs, and he looked pale and agitated.

  ‘What is this?’ he cried, when he saw Krum on the ground, and Dumbledore and Harry beside him. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I vos attacked!’ said Krum, sitting up now, and rubbing his head. ‘Mr Crouch or votever his name –’

  ‘Crouch attacked you? Crouch attacked you? The Triwizard judge?’

  ‘Igor,’ Dumbledore began, but Karkaroff had drawn himself up, clutching his furs around him, looking livid.

  ‘Treachery!’ he bellowed, pointing at Dumbledore. ‘It is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretences, Dumbledore! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak Potter into the Tournament, though he is underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my champion out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you, with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences – here’s what I think of you!’

  Karkaroff spat onto the ground at Dumbledore’s feet. In one swift movement, Hagrid seized the front of Karkaroff’s furs, lifted him into the air, and slammed him against a nearby tree.

  ‘Apologise!’ Hagrid snarled, as Karkaroff gasped for breath, Hagrid’s massive fist at his throat, his feet dangling in mid-air.

  ‘Hagrid, no!’ Dumbledore shouted, his eyes flashing.

  Hagrid removed the hand pinning Karkaroff to the tree, and Karkaroff slid all the way down the trunk and slumped in a huddle at its roots; a few twigs and leaves showered down upon his head.

  ‘Kindly escort Harry back up to the castle, Hagrid,’ said Dumbledore sharply.

  Breathing heavily, Hagrid gave Karkaroff a glowering look. ‘Maybe I’d better stay here, Headmaster …’

  ‘You will take Harry back to school, Hagrid,’ Dumbledore repeated firmly. ‘Take him right up to Gryffindor Tower. And Harry – I want you to stay there. Anything you might want to do – any owls you might want to send – they can wait until morning, do you understand me?’

  ‘Er – yes,’ said Harry, staring at him. How had Dumbledore known that, at that very moment, he had been thinking about sending Pigwidgeon straight to Sirius, to tell him what had happened?

  ‘I’ll leave Fang with yeh, Headmaster,’ Hagrid said, still staring menacingly at Karkaroff, who was still sprawled at the foot of the tree, tangled in furs and tree-roots. ‘Stay, Fang. C’mon, Harry.’

  They marched in silence past the Beauxbatons carriage and up towards the castle.

  ‘How dare he,’ Hagrid growled, as they strode past the lake. ‘How dare he accuse Dumbledore. Like Dumbledore’d do anythin’ like that. Like Dumbledore wanted you in the Tournament in the firs’ place. Worried! I dunno when I seen Dumbledore more worried than he’s bin lately. An’ you!’ Hagrid suddenly said angrily to Harry, who looked up at him, taken aback. ‘What were yeh doin’, wanderin’ off with ruddy Krum? He’s from Durmstrang, Harry! Coulda jinxed yeh right there, couldn’ he? Hasn’ Moody taught yeh nothin’? ’Magine lettin’ him lure yeh off on yer own –’

  ‘Krum’s all right!’ said Harry, as they climbed the steps into the Entrance Hall. ‘He wasn’t trying to jinx me, he just wanted to talk about Hermione –’

  ‘I’ll be havin’ a few words with her, an’ all,’ said Hagrid grimly, stomping up the stairs. ‘The less you lot ’ave ter do with these foreigners, the happier yeh’ll be. Yeh can’ trust any of ’em.’

  ‘You were getting on all right with Madame Maxime,’ Harry said, annoyed.

  ‘Don’ you talk ter me abou’ her!’ said Hagrid, and he looked quite frightening for a moment. ‘I’ve got her number now! Tryin’ ter get back in me good books, tryin’ ter get me ter tell her what’s comin’ in the third task. Ha! You can’ trust any of ’em!’

  Hagrid was in such a bad mood, Harry was quite glad to say goodbye to him in front of the Fat Lady. He clambered through the portrait hole into the common room, and hurried straight for the corner where Ron and Hermione were sitting, to tell them what had happened.

  — CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE —

  The Dream

  ‘It comes down to this,’ said Hermione, rubbing her forehead. ‘Either Mr Crouch attacked Viktor, or somebody else attacked both of them when Viktor wasn’t looking.’

  ‘It must’ve been Crouch,’ said Ron at once. ‘That’s why he was gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He’d done a runner.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Harry, shaking his head. ‘He seemed really weak – I don’t reckon he was up to Disapparating or anything.’

  ‘You can’t Disapparate in the Hogwarts grounds, haven’t I told you enough times?’ said Hermione.

  ‘OK … how’s this for a theory,’ said Ron excitedly, ‘Krum attacked Crouch – no, wait for it – and then Stunned himself!’

  ‘And Mr Crouch evaporated, did he?’ said Hermione coldly.

  ‘Oh, yeah …’

  It was daybreak. Harry, Ron and Hermione had crept out of their dormitories very early, and hurried up to the Owlery together to send a note to Sirius. Now they were standing looking out at the misty grounds. All three of them were puffy-eyed and pale, because they had been talking late into the night about Mr Crouch.

  ‘Just go through it again, Harry,’ said Hermione. ‘What did Mr Crouch actually say?’

  ‘I’ve told you, he wasn’t making much sense,’ said Harry. ‘He said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault … he mentioned his son.’

  ‘Well, that was his fault,’ said Hermione testily.

  ‘He was out of his mind,’ said Harry. ‘Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions.’

  ‘And … remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?’ said Ron tentatively.

  ‘I’ve told you,’ Harry repeated dully. ‘He said he’s getting stronger.’

  There was a pause.

  Then Ron said in a falsely confident voice, ‘But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was probably just raving …’

  ‘He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort,’ said Harry, ignoring Ron’s wince. ‘He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying
he had to see Dumbledore.’

  Harry turned away from the window and stared up into the rafters. Half the many perches were empty; every now and then, another owl would swoop in through one of the windows, returning from its night’s hunting with a mouse in its beak.

  ‘If Snape hadn’t held me up,’ Harry said bitterly, ‘we might’ve got there in time. “The Headmaster is busy, Potter … what’s this rubbish, Potter?” Why couldn’t he have just got out of the way?’

  ‘Maybe he didn’t want you to get there!’ said Ron quickly. ‘Maybe – hang on – how fast d’you reckon he could’ve got down to the Forest? D’you reckon he could’ve beaten you and Dumbledore there?’

  ‘Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something,’ said Harry.

  ‘Wouldn’t put it past him,’ Ron muttered.

  ‘We need to see Professor Moody,’ said Hermione. ‘We need to find out whether he found Mr Crouch.’

  ‘If he had the Marauder’s Map on him, it would’ve been easy,’ said Harry.

  ‘Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds,’ said Ron, ‘because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn’t –’

  ‘Shh!’ said Hermione suddenly.

  Somebody was climbing the steps up to the Owlery. Harry could hear two voices arguing, coming closer and closer.

  ‘– that’s blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that –’

  ‘– we’ve tried being polite, it’s time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn’t like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did –’

  ‘I’m telling you, if you put that in writing, it’s blackmail!’

  ‘Yeah, and you won’t be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?’

  The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George came over the threshold, then froze at the sight of Harry, Ron and Hermione.

  ‘What’re you doing here?’ Ron and Fred said at the same time.

  ‘Sending a letter,’ said Harry and George in unison.

  ‘What, at this time?’ said Hermione and Fred.

  Fred grinned. ‘Fine – we won’t ask you what you’re doing, if you don’t ask us,’ he said.