Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

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?’ Dumbledore said gently.
    Harry got up and swayed again; the pain in his leg, which he had not noticed all the time he had listened to Crouch, now returned in full measure. He also realised that he was shaking. Dumbledore gripped his arm, and helped him out into the dark corridor.
    ‘I want you to come up to my office first, Harry,’ he said quietly, as they headed up the passageway. ‘Sirius is waiting for us there.’
    Harry nodded. A kind of numbness and a sense of complete unreality were upon him, 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 …
    ‘Professor,’ Harry mumbled, ‘where are Mr and Mrs Diggory?’
    ‘They are with Professor Sprout,’ said Dumbledore. His voice, which had been so calm throughout the interrogation of Barty Crouch, shook very slightly for the first time. ‘She was Head of Cedric’s house, and knew him best.’
    They had reached the stone gargoyle. Dumbledore gave the password, it sprang aside, and he and Harry went up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door. Dumbledore pushed it open.
    Sirius was standing there. His face was white and gaunt as it had been when he had escaped Azkaban. In one swift moment, he had crossed the room. ‘Harry, are you all right? I knew it – I knew something like this – what happened?’
    His hands shook as he helped Harry into a chair in front of the desk.
    ‘What happened?’ he asked, more urgently.
    Dumbledore began to tell Sirius everything Barty Crouch had said. Harry was only half listening. So tired every bone in his body was aching, he wanted nothing more than to sit here, undisturbed, for hours and hours, until he fell asleep, and didn’t have to think or feel any more.
    There was a soft rush of wings. Fawkes the phoenix had left his perch, flown across the office, and landed on Harry’s knee.
    ‘’Lo, Fawkes,’ said Harry quietly. He stroked the phoenix’s beautiful scarlet and gold plumage. Fawkes blinked peacefully up at him. There was something comforting about his warm weight.
    Dumbledore had stopped talking. He sat down opposite Harry, behind his desk. He was looking at Harry, who avoided his eyes. Dumbledore was going to question him. He was going to make Harry relive everything.
    ‘I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Harry,’ said Dumbledore.
    ‘We can leave that ’til morning, can’t we, Dumbledore?’ said Sirius harshly. He had put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. ‘Let him have a sleep. Let him rest.’
    Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards Sirius, but Dumbledore took no notice of Sirius’ words. He leant forward towards Harry. Very unwillingly, Harry raised his head, and looked into those blue eyes.
    ‘If I thought I could help you,’ Dumbledore said gently, ‘by putting you into an enchanted sleep, and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened.’
    The phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and Harry felt as though a drop of hot liquid had slipped down his throat into his stomach, warming him, and strengthening him.
    He took a deep breath, and began to tell them. As he spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before his eyes; he saw the sparkling surface of the Potion which had revived