His Angel

Chapter 13

"Voldemort…" That was all Harry had managed to whisper on the brief moment he had regained consciousness when Dumbledore revived him before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Dumbledore had a gift, a tendency to be more insightful, an ability to anticipate things coming in the distant or not so distant future. Sometimes it was a blessing, sometimes it was a curse. In this case it was glaringly obvious which one it was. Ever since Peter Pettigrew had escaped last year he knew that the return of lord Voldemort was not too far off in the horizon. He had anticipated it, taken measures to prepare Harry just in case his hunch was correct. He had begun rallying his old allies again. Again he found himself wishing that he had been proven wrong instead of proven correct.

Snape paced restlessly in front of him, his face pale. "I felt the summons. The mark is as dark as it was 14 years ago. Karkaroff felt the summons. That's why he fled tonight…doubt he will get very far, he'll probably manage to stay alive a few days, a week if he's lucky." Dumbledore winced. No matter how many times he heard it, the idea of a life being extinguished never ceased to repel him. Snape stopped and looked him directly in the eye. "He's back. He's back and there's no mistaking it. It's a miracle Potter made it back alive."

"I know." He replied quietly, gazing at Fawke's who trilled softly. For that he was more prouder than he had ever been of the boy. He had become more capable than he had imagined.

He had made so many mistakes this year. Too many to count. A Death Eater, an insane Death Eater at that had managed to remain under covers in plain sight and he had not seen it. That same Death Eater had nearly succeeded in killing Harry three times in a row. That same Death Eater was the reason the real Alastor Moody was in St. Mungo's. Now two Death Eater's had managed to get into the maze and take Harry from right under his nose.

The man they had captured was only a small comfort, a minor victory. He had no knowledge of anything to do with Voldemort. All he knew was that he was promised money and power in return for his services with capturing the boy who lived and deliver him to the 'location' under orders from Fenrir Greyback. There was evidence of extreme damage to his mind, no doubt the result of powerful memory loss charms and it would take weeks or even months to piece together fragments of his memory. There were gaping holes in his memories when he had used Legilimency to search through them, as if they had been destroyed. It was clear that he was not important enough from the way he had been left behind.

Dumbledore pinched the bridge between his eyes and nose trying to lessen the ache his head was causing him. How had two Death Eaters gotten in? While he had no proof the man they captured was indeed a Death Eater seeing as he didn't have the Dark Mark branded on him, he was accompanied by Greyback. How had they gotten in? The cup was a portkey, that much was certain...had they used the cup to get into the maze too? It was possible…but that begged the question, who had turned it into one? The cup was only handled by a select few of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Barty Crouch senior, the latter who had conveniently disappeared. From the way things are now he wouldn't be surprised if he was declared deceased.

The man masquerading as Alastor Moody held all the answers and there is no way of questioning him. He had been shocked when he had seen who it was once the disguise wore off. Barty Crouch Jr…a man that was supposed to be dead. This only increased the amount of questions that were fated to remain unanswered.

From what little information they had gained from the man that was now bound in irons down in the dungeons, they only knew that Crouch was insane and had broken free of their control, hence why they had killed him. When asked how they had gotten into the maze all the man had been able to produce was 'portkey'.