Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

scene flickered oddly before Harry’s eyes …
    ‘It’s all right, son, I’ve got you … come on … hospital wing …’
    ‘Dumbledore said stay,’ said Harry thickly, the pounding in his scar making him feel as though he was about to throw up; his vision was blurring worse than ever.
    ‘You need to lie down … come on, now …’
    Someone larger and stronger than Harry was, was half pulling, half carrying him through the frightened crowd; Harry heard them gasping, screaming and shouting as the man supporting him pushed a path through them, taking him back to the castle. Across the lawn, past the lake and the Durmstrang ship; Harry heard nothing but the heavy breathing of the man helping him walk.
    ‘What happened, Harry?’ the man asked at last, as he lifted Harry up the stone steps. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. It was Mad-Eye Moody.
    ‘Cup was a Portkey,’ said Harry, as they crossed the Entrance Hall. ‘Took me and Cedric to a graveyard … and Voldemort was there … Lord Voldemort …’
    Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Up the marble stairs …
    ‘The Dark Lord was there? What happened then?’
    ‘Killed Cedric … they killed Cedric …’
    ‘And then?’
    Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Along the corridor …
    ‘Made a potion … got his body back …’
    ‘The Dark Lord got his body back? He’s returned?’
    ‘And the Death Eaters came … and then we duelled …’
    ‘You duelled with the Dark Lord?’
    ‘Got away … my wand … did something funny … I saw my mum and dad … they came out of his wand …’
    ‘In here, Harry … in here, and sit down … you’ll be all right now … drink this …’
    Harry heard a key scrape in a lock, and felt a cup being pushed into his hands.
    ‘Drink it … you’ll feel better … come on now, Harry, I need to know exactly what happened …’
    Moody helped tip the stuff down Harry’s throat; he coughed, a peppery taste burning his throat. Moody’s office came into sharper focus, and so did Moody himself … he looked as white as Fudge, and both eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon Harry’s face.
    ‘Voldemort’s back, Harry? You’re sure he’s back? How did he do it?’
    ‘He took stuff from his father’s grave, and from Wormtail, and me,’ said Harry. His head felt clearer; his scar wasn’t hurting so badly; he could now see Moody’s face distinctly, even though the office was dark. He could still hear screaming and shouting from the distant Quidditch pitch.
    ‘What did the Dark Lord take from you?’ said Moody.
    ‘Blood,’ said Harry, raising his arm. His sleeve was ripped where Wormtail’s dagger had torn it.
    Moody let out his breath in a long, low hiss. ‘And the Death Eaters? They returned?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Harry. ‘Loads of them …’
    ‘How did he treat them?’ Moody asked quietly. ‘Did he forgive them?’
    But Harry had suddenly remembered. He should have told Dumbledore, he should have said it straight away – ‘There’s a Death Eater at Hogwarts! There’s a Death Eater here – they put my name in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure I got through to the end –’
    Harry tried to get up, but Moody pushed him back down.
    ‘I know who the Death Eater is,’ he said quietly.
    ‘Karkaroff?’ said Harry wildly. ‘Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up?’
    ‘Karkaroff?’ said Moody with an odd laugh. ‘Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them … but I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies.’
    ‘Karkaroff’s gone ? He ran away? But then – he didn’t put my name in the Cup?’
    ‘No,’ said Moody slowly. ‘No, he didn’t. It was I who did that.’
    Harry heard, but didn’t believe.
    ‘No, you didn’t,’ he said. ‘You didn’t do that … you can’t have done …’
    ‘I assure you I did,’ said Moody, and his magical eye swung around, and fixed upon the door, and Harry knew he was making sure that there was no one outside it. At the same time, Moody drew out his wand, and pointed it at Harry.
    ‘He forgave them, then?’ he said. ‘The Death Eaters who went free? The ones who escaped Azkaban?’
    ‘What?’ said Harry.
    He was looking at the wand Moody was pointing at him. This was a bad joke, it had to be.
    ‘I asked you,’ said Moody quietly, ‘whether he forgave the scum who never even went to look for him. Those treacherous cowards who wouldn’t even brave