35. Still Breathing

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"Tell me that it's worth, 'cause I'm doing all I can to fight it. And I've never been this scared, and my moments finally here" ~ Still Breathing, Mayday Parade

Dumbledore stands and stares down at Barty Crouch for a moment, with a look of disgust on his face. He raises his wand once more and ropes fly out of it, ropes which twist themselves around Barty Crouch, binding him tightly. 

He turns around to McGonagall. "Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry and Haylee upstairs?"

"Of course," she replies. She looks slightly nauseous, as though she just watched someone being sick. However, when she draws out her wand and points it at Barty Crouch, her hand is steady. 

"Severus," Dumbledore turns 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 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 nods silently and sweeps out of the room. 

"Harry? Haylee?" Dumbledore says gently. 

We stand up together, and I sway again; the pain in my leg, which I did not notice all throughout Crouch's confession, has now returned in full measure. I also realise that I'm still trembling. Dumbledore takes our arms and helps us out of the office and into the dark corridor. 

"I want you to come to my office first, Harry and Haylee," he says quietly, as we head up the passageway. "Sirius and your father are waiting for us there."

I nod. A kind of numbness and a sense of complete unreality are upon me, but I don't care; I'm even glad of it. I don't want to think about anything that has happened since we touched the Cup. I don't want to have to examine the memories, fresh and sharp as photographs, which keep flashing in my mind; Moody in the trunk. Wormtail slumped on the ground, cradling his stump of an arm. Voldemort rising from the cauldron. Cedric...dead...Cedric, asking to be returned to his parents. 

"Professor," I mumble, my voice croaky, "where are Mr and Mrs Diggory?"

"They are with Professor Sprout," says Dumbledore. His voice, which was so calm during the interrogation of Crouch, shakes slightly. "she was Head of Cedric's house, and knew him best."

We reach the stone gargoyle. Dumbledore gives the password, and it springs aside. The three of us go up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door, and Dumbledore pushes it open. 

Dad, Sirius and Remus are all standing there, all looking pale and fretful. In one swift movement, they all cross the room. "Harry, Haylee, are you all right?" Dad asks hurriedly, his eyes bloodshot and wide.

"I knew it - I knew something like this - what happened?" Sirius says, in an almost frantic tone. 

Dad's hands shake as he helps me into a chair in front of the desk. "What happened?" he asks urgently, his voice breaking ever so slightly. 

Dumbledore explains everything Barty Crouch told us. I don't listen at all. I'm so tired that every bone in my body is aching, and I want nothing more than to sit here, undisturbed, for hours and hours, until I fall asleep, and don't have to think or feel anymore. 

There is a soft rush of wings. Fawkes the phoenix has left his perch, flown across the office and lands on my knee, looking curiously between Harry and me.

"Hello, Fawkes," I say quietly, stroking the phoenix's beautiful scarlet and gold plumage. Fawkes blinks peacefully up at us. There's something comforting about his warm weight, and it makes me think of the phoenix song, the song that gave me hope. 

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