Chapter Thirty: The Surprise Duel
After the silence of the maze, the roar of the crowd was deafening. People were getting to their feet, clapping. Harish stood up unsteadily and raised the Cup over his head with a grin. The noise of the crowd grew louder at this.
It was complete confusion as people started appearing all around him. It was hard to hear a word of what anyone was saying over all of the clapping and cheering. Harish swayed, blinking hard. His leg was hurting so much it was hard to concentrate on anything.
"He's hurt!" one person said. "He needs to be taken to the Hospital Wing!"
"Where's the prize money?" said another.
"Where's Krum?" yet another voice asked.
All around Harish, people were milling about. Most of them were adults.
"We'll be heading back," a voice said in Harish's ear.
The teen turned to see his father, Bella, and Sirius behind him. Sirius let out a bark.
"We have to make some important plans," Voldemort said with a wink before disappearing into the crowd.
"Come on, son," another voice growled.
Harish felt a strong hand on his back, leading him out of the stadium.
Once they had exited the crowd, Harish turned to see Moody steering him toward the building. Harish had much difficulty walking, and Moody helped him.
"You need a Hospital Wing," Moody growled. "Madam Pomfrey will fix you up…"
Harish did not remember the walk with Moody afterward. His leg was hurting more with each step, making him more and more non-apprehending. The next thing he remembered, old Mad-Eye had thrust a potion into his hands and he had downed it. His vision cleared and he saw Moody sitting in front of him, looking oddly excited.
Harish looked around. They were not in the Hospital Wing at all. They were, in fact, in Moody's office. Harish was standing in front of the door, which was slightly ajar. Moody, who was sitting on a trunk in front of him, seemed to notice Harish looking around, for he raised his wand and said, "Incarcerous!"
To say that Harish was surprised was an understatement. He was beyond confused. The teen looked down at the ropes that bound his body and found that he could only move his fingers. He looked back up at Moody. Then, Moody said, "So here he is at my mercy, the infamous Harish Blake. You have no idea how long I have waited for this moment…"
Harish's eyebrows drew together in confusion. Now that he had taken that pain relieving potion he was able to think clearer, but his reactions were still a bit too slow.
"What—?" Harish was interrupted as Mad-Eye left to his feet.
"How do you think your name came out of the goblet twice, eh?" he asked roughly. "I put your name into that goblet in the hopes that you would die in the course of the tournament. Silly me, not realizing you would get through in first place."
"I don't understand—"
"Understand?" Moody roared. He took a deep breath and continued quieter, "Why do you think you passed out at the Quidditch World Cup?"
"How—"
"Because I cast a spell on you, that's why," Moody said loudly, talking straight over Harish. "My employer wanted me to send a message to your father. But, with that done, I was given a new mission: kill Harish Blake. But you, boy, are very determined to stay alive—too determined."
Harish, whose pain was receding even faster, caught onto the word employer. The one time he had heard that word before, came out of the mouth of a man who had tried to kill Harish earlier that year: Ex-Professor Quirrell. He heard the man's words echo in his ears as he remembered…
"That's what my employer seemed to think…Didn't want me to draw attention to myself…no matter. I would've killed you anyway, if I hadn't been distracted."
"What employer?" he blurted out. "Who are you?"
"Finally caught on, have you?" the man growled. "Finally realized that I am not Professor Alastor Moody?"
Whether the man had planned it that way would never be certain, but at that moment he conveniently began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smoother, the mangled nose became whole and started to shrink slightly. The long grizzled mane of gray hair was withdrawing into the scalp and turning black. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, the wooden leg fell away as a normal one regrew in its place. The next moment, the magical eye ball had popped out of the man's face and a real eye had replaced it; it rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction.
Harish was so transfixed by the man's sudden change in appearance that he hadn't noticed that he had been released. Very suddenly, is was no longer Professor Moody who was advancing upon Harish, but Bradwr Jugson.
"You!" Harish said, gaping. "But you work for my father—you're a Death Eater!"
"I was," Jugson corrected him. "But when I saw what a madman he was…and I found someone else…I felt it was time for my allegiance to change…"
"To who?"
"No one!" Jugson snapped. "If my employer wishes to remain a secret, then a secret she shall remain…"
"She?" Harish asked.
"Confringo!" Jugson cried.
Harish stumbled back into the edge of the door and narrowly avoided being hit by the Blasting Curse.
"Stupefy!" the teen shouted.
Jugson wordlessly pulled a shield charm up to block the spell.
"Everte Statum!"
Harish pulled up his own shield. The young man lowered it just long enough to shoot a finger removing jinx. Jugson managed to avoid it. Then, he sent the Entrail Expelling Curse at Harish. The curse shattered Harish's shield and the teen backed out of the office.
"Bombarda!" Jugson called.
Harish slammed the door of the office shut and it splintered into a million pieces. Then Jugson pushed his way out of the office, forcing the younger man to back up even more. Jugson looked over Harish's shoulder and smirked. Harish turned and looked around, to see he was standing at the very edge of a three story staircase.
Before Harish had a chance to turn around, he heard Jugson say, "Caedo," and Harish felt his feet pushed backwards, causing his knees to buckle. He fell onto his back, knocking the breath out of his lungs, slid down a few feet before his foot caught under the railing of the staircase, causing him to turn slightly and his already bleeding and (most likely) broken leg cracked. Then, he tumbled down the rest of the stairs, hitting himself in so many places that he could no longer tell what was injured and what was not. Finally, he blacked out as he rolled across the floor, having reached the foot of the stairs.
Jugson, who knew that he could not be caught without the risk of exposing his employer, reached for an emergency portkey and disappeared in a blue hue. Then Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape hurried into the building, ready to apprehend whoever was pretending to be Alastor Moody, and found Harish lying bleeding, broken, and unconscious at the foot of the stairs.
All three of them drew in a sharp gasp at the sight of him.
"Minerva," Dumbledore said. "Please take the boy to Poppy. Severus, if you feel the need, give him any potions that might keep him stable on the way to the infirmary."
Both of the Professor nodded. Dumbledore leapt over the Blake boy before dashing up the stairs. He got off on the landing where the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was and ran straight into Mad-Eye Moody's office. He arrived there to discover that the office was empty.
After Dumbledore dashed off, McGonagall conjured a stretcher and levitated Harish onto it. Snape uncorked a vial, opened the sixteen-year-old boy's mouth, and a potion slid down his throat. Then, the two of them hurried Harish to the Hospital Wing.
Dumbledore found a ring of keys on the desk in the office, and concluded that they belonged to the chest that was sitting across from the door. The trunk was old and worn. There were seven locks on it. Dumbledore inserted the first key into the first lock and opened the chest. Inside was a mass of spell books. Dumbledore closed the trunk, stuck the second key in the second lock, and opened it again. This time it contained an assortment of broken Sneakoscopes, some parchment and quills, and a silvery Invisibility Cloak. He did the same thing for the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth, lock until finally he came across what he was looking for in the seventh lock.
The inside of the trunk had turned into a sort of pit, and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently asleep, was the real Mad-Eye Moody. He looked very thin and pale. His wooden leg was gone, the socket that should have held the magical eye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled gray hair were missing.
Dumbledore scowled. He had arrived too late. Whoever had been acting as the insane ex-auror was certainly gone by then. Just to make sure, Dumbledore checked the ward of the school and confirmed that whoever it was had indeed left.
With a sigh of resignation, he went to see how young Harish Blake was doing.