"The moon is the reflection of your heart and moonlight is the twinkle of your love."
There is something haunting in the light of the moon; it has all the dispassionateness of a disembodied soul, and something of its inconceivable mystery. The moon...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Dumbledore stood up. He stared down at Barty Crouch for a moment with disgust on his face. Then he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted themselves around Barty Crouch, binding him tightly. He turned to Professor McGonagall.
"Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry and Elara upstairs?"
"Of course," said Professor McGonagall. She looked slightly nauseous, as though she had just watched someone being sick. However, when she drew out her wand and pointed it at Barty Crouch, her hand was quite steady.
"Severus" - Dumbledore turned to Snape - "please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here; we need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me."
Snape nodded silently and swept out of the room.
"Harry? Elara?" Dumbledore said gently.
Harry got up and swayed again; the pain in his leg, which he had not noticed all the time he had been listening to Crouch, now returned in full measure. He also realized that he was shaking. Elara quickly held a grip on him and carefully helped him move as they followed Dumbledore through the dark corridor.
"I want you to come up to my office first. Harry, Elara" he said quiety as they headed up the passageway. "Sirius, Damon and Elena are waiting for us there."
Harry and Elara nodded. A kind of numbness and a sense of complete unreality were upon Harry, but he did not care; he was even glad of it. He didn't want to have to think about anything that had happened since he had first touched the Triwizard Cup. He didn't want to have to examine the memories, fresh and sharp as photographs, which kept flashing across his mind. Mad-Eye Moody, inside the trunk. Wormtail, slumped on the ground, cradling his stump of an arm. Voldemort, rising from the steaming cauldron. Cedric...dead...Cedric, asking to be returned to his parents....
''I'm sorry, Elara,'' Harry mumbled quietly. ''Cedric-''
''Shh, Harry,'' Elara said softly. ''Cedric's okay. He's alive.''
Harry stared at Elara in bewilderment. He couldn't believe what she was saying. That was impossible. ''What? How?''
This time Dumbledore replied. ''Everything will be explained, Harry. But just know that Elara used her power to bring him back.''
Harry stared at Elara and she nodded in confirmation. Harry felt a weight being lifted off of his shoulder as he cracked a smile that Elara returned. Cedric was not dead. He was ok. Wormtail didn't kill him. Elara was able to bring him back. Harry felt relieved and happy as he kissed Elara's head and the two followed Dumbledore without the grief of Cedric's death.
They had reached the stone gargoyle. Dumbledore gave the password, it sprang aside, and he, Elara and Harry went up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door. Dumbledore pushed it open. Sirius, Damon and Elena was standing there. Sirius face was white and gaunt as it had been when he had escaped Azkaban and Damon and Elena looked pale with worry. In one swift moment, they had crossed the room.
