Part 5: Intrigue
Cedric, 24th June, 1995
Minisinoo

Cedric didn't plan to sleep that night until he saw the fake Moody in Dumbledore's custody.

Being the wee small hours of morning, it was chilly enough that he jogged back up to the castle, slipping quietly through the front doors.  He got three steps inside before a hand grabbed his upper arm and yanked him off balance.  "What?"

A whispered spell and he couldn't move.  The end of a wand ignited and came up beside a face -- the last face he wanted to see.  Mad-Eye Moody.  Or at least, the person posing as him.  And now what did Cedric do?  Was he a dead man despite everything?

(Some irreverent part of his mind whispered that at least he'd lost his virginity first.)

But the fake Moody had no idea what Cedric knew and his face split in a grin.  "You smell like sex, boy.  I don't suppose I have to ask what you were up to -- or with whom.  If I go to the Ravenclaw Tower, will I catch her sneaking back in?"

Petrified, Cedric couldn't even blink.  No, the fake Moody had no idea at all.  And that was good.

The man stepped away from him.  "Night before the last task, a little roll in the hay won't hurt you -- so I didn't see anything, right?"  And with a flick of Moody's wand, Cedric felt control of his body return.  "Good to know you're not quite so lily-pure, Diggory.  Normal boy, out for a little fun with his girl.  Go to bed.  You've got a big day tomorrow."  And he grinned that ugly grin -- evil.  It looked evil, Cedric thought.  Or half-mad.  And how could he stand there joking about Cedric's imagined love life, pretending to be his friend, when he was about to spell a portkey that would -- if Cedric didn't do something -- result in Cedric's death and the return of the Dark Lord?  Cedric might have been pretending to be something he wasn't for years too, but not for malice.

Does that make the lies any better?  he wondered.

Stepping away from Moody, he turned, but with the man watching him, he had no choice except to go towards the stairs leading down to the Hufflepuff common room.  He paused once to look over his shoulder, but Moody was standing there at the top, watching him descend.  Cedric continued down and said the password to enter the portal.

He was no sooner inside than he heard, "Where the bleedin' hell have you been?"

It was Ed, Peter and Scott.  They'd been dozing in chairs, apparently waiting for him, and now sat up, their expressions supremely annoyed.  There was no way he could stand here a few minutes and wait for Moody to leave, then go back out to see the Headmaster.  "Ah . . . I was nervous.  I went for a run."

It was clear none of the three believed him.  "You're a rumpled mess," Scott pointed out.  "And not from running."  He laughed.  "You left here about nine to do rounds, and you're back at" -- he checked his watch -- "almost three?  How many times did you and Cho go at it?"

"What?  It wasn't -- "

"Oh, shut it," Peter replied, "and just go to bed.  We don't want our champion exhausted on the day of the last task, right?"

Cedric found himself ushered back to the dormitory -- the 'den' -- he shared with his roommates.  They got ready for bed and crawled in.  Cedric intended to lie there for half an hour or so until they were asleep, then sneak back out again.

Except he really was exhausted, and fell asleep too.

He didn't wake until past noon.  Then he sat up so fast, it made his head dizzy and practically leapt from the bed, dressed only in his underpants.  There was no one there, of course.  A note had been Spellotaped to the mirror.

You were dead to the world so we left you.  After you shower, come and find us.  We'll probably be in the common room or the courtyard.  Peter saved food for you from the kitchen, and your parents are here.  They're with Sprout.  -- Scott

Cedric checked the pocket watch his grandfather had given him -- it was, in fact, ten past one.  He considered just putting on clothes and running to find Dumbledore right now, but he stank, and despite the Vanishing spell the night before, still felt sticky.  So he took a fast shower and didn't even shave.  Dressing, he hurried out, trotting through the halls until he'd reached the base of the stairs to Dumbledore's office.  "Ice mice," he told the gargoyle, which moved aside, and he took the stairs two at a time, banging on the door at the top when he'd reached the landing.

But no one answered.  He tried twice more before giving up.  Dumbledore obviously wasn't here, and he went down again to the Great Hall where only a few people had congregated -- none his denmates.  Ernie MacMillan came forward to shake Cedric's hand.  "Good luck, mate.  We'll all be rooting for you."

"Thanks, Ernie."  Cedric said.  "Have you seen Professor Dumbledore?"

"Uh, no.  Not since lunch.  I think I saw him, Moody, and Ludo Bagman walk down towards the pitch -- or the hedge now, I suppose it is -- "

Cedric didn't hear the rest because he took off out of the hall, down the corridor past startled students, and out the main doors.  On the path beyond, he broke into a full run, though his cumbersome school robes dragged.  A stitch had formed in his side by the time he made it to the transformed pitch.  He thought of Harry, and wondered if he were still in the Captain's office of the Hufflepuff changing rooms, waiting for Cedric to bring him something to eat.  Cedric himself felt light-headed from lack of food, but he didn't have time for that now.

He caught sight of Bagman, Dumbledore and the fake Moody in the center of a little cleared area ringed about by stands, like an arena.  They were conferring in serious voices.  Percy Weasley was with them, and Minister Fudge.  They all stared as Cedric came pounding up.  "Is something wrong, Mr. Diggory?" Dumbledore asked mildly as Cedric bent over, hands braced on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"I . . . I need . . . to talk to you . . . sir."

The fake Moody's eyes were narrow.  "I'll take care of it, Albus -- you, Ludo and the Minister go on."

"No!" Cedric practically shouted, then continued more calmly, "No.  Professor Dumbledore, sir . . . I need to speak to you.  Alone.  It's urgent."

He may as well have shouted that he suspected Moody because the other man's magical eye was spinning like mad and he'd stepped slightly away from the group.  Cedric couldn't accuse him right there, or he would've.

Dumbledore was frowning and gripped Cedric's shoulder.  "Of course.  Come with me, Cedric."  He led Cedric to the other side of the field, near the stands.  "What is this about?"

Glancing back over his shoulder to where the others had begun to walk back towards the castle, Cedric took a deep breath.  This was it -- his chance to change Harry's past and his future, and to halt the rebirth of a terrible evil.

"Professor Moody isn't who he seems, sir."

Dumbledore frowned, but didn't interrupt.

Cedric took another breath.  "This is going to sound mad, I know, and, er, somebody broke a lot of laws to tell me this -- but you have to believe me.  That man isn't Moody.  He's Barty Crouch, the Death Eater.  He's the one who put Harry's name in the cup, and he's been fixing the contest so Harry would come out ahead.  He's spelled the Triwizard Cup to take Harry somewhere else when he reaches it.  You Know Who is going to use him -- use his blood -- for some spell to reincarnate."

The Headmaster was staring at him in shock -- but not in disbelief.  "How do you know these things?"

"Harry told me."

"How would . . . " Dumbledore trailed off.  "Not this Harry."

"No, sir.  Harry older.  He came back to stop it.  To stop the Dark Lord."

"Why you?"

Cedric hesitated.  "Er -- because You Know Who kills me.  Well, he did in Harry's past.  Harry was trying to stop that too.  I think he reckoned it was safest to talk to somebody who didn't exist anymore in his timeline."

That wasn't entirely why Harry had chosen him, but it sounded good and Dumbledore didn't question it, probably because he was too preoccupied.  "Is this Harry still here?"

"I don't know, sir.  He thought -- we thought -- when I did something to change what's going to happen, he'd . . . disappear."

Dumbledore nodded once sharply.  "No doubt correct, but take me to him anyway -- if you know where he is."

"In my office -- the Quidditch Captain's office.  But shouldn't you stop Moody?  Crouch, I mean?"

Smiling, Dumbledore raised a hand.  "For the moment, our snake in the grass is with the Minister and Ludo.  I'd like more information if possible, before I move against him."

They were speaking even as they were walking out of the constructed arena and around behind the hedge towards the Hufflepuff changing rooms.  Despite Cedric's youth, Dumbledore still moved faster and he had his wand out to tap the door, which opened for him.

They moved swiftly through the benches inside towards the office at the rear, which Cedric got to first, yanking it open.

It was empty.

"Harry?"  There was no reply.  "Harry?"

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called, whipping his wand around the room, peering even into empty corners, which puzzled Cedric.  Then the Headmaster shook his head.  "He's gone, either because you have, indeed, changed the future -- his past -- or because it was all a ruse."

The Headmaster turned back to Cedric.  "Did it occur to you that the 'Harry' you met might not be Harry?  That, in fact, he might be the imposter?"

Cedric blinked.  That hadn't occurred to him at all.

"I find it more likely that he's our Death Eater than Alastor.  Think, Cedric.  How could Harry have come back --"

"He had a Time-Turner, sir.  I saw it."

"Then I find it even less likely.  The Ministry guards those very carefully."  His eyes were soft on Cedric, and for a moment, Cedric wondered if he knew the rest of what had happened in this room last night.  "I'm sorry, but I fear you were duped, although to what end I'm not certain.  You're quite correct that someone put Harry's name in that Goblet who wasn't Harry.  I've suspected since the very beginning this Tournament is being used with intent to harm him.  But I specifically asked Alastor to look after him, so if he's been helping Harry -- well, it wasn't my intention for Harry to cheat, but in a manner of speaking, Professor Moody has been following my orders.  That's not suspicious, Cedric.  And Alastor Moody is one of the greatest Aurors of our age.  I find it difficult to believe he could be taken by the likes of Barty Crouch -- who according to all reports is quite dead and buried.  Professor Moody is the one who originally caught Crouch."

Hands on hips, Cedric breathed out, suddenly doubting himself -- but also not convinced.

Do you not want to be convinced because you want what happened last night to have been real?

He wanted to believe because it hurt less than to think he'd been used, that someone out there now knew his most tender secret, someone who wouldn't hesitate to use it against him.  But Cedric was rational and had to admit Dumbledore had good points.  Yet -- "Polyjuice potion makes a person look exactly like another, right?"  Dumbledore nodded.  "Well, he didn't.  It was Harry -- but older."  Dumbledore's eyebrows climbed.  "He was what Harry would look like a year from now.  Taller by a bit, his face older.  Polyjuice can't do that, can it?"

"Not normally, no.  Although if he also had a Time-Turner . . . " The Headmaster trailed off.  "This is getting too Byzantine -- wheels within wheels.  Still, Tom would like that, the game of it."  He was silent a moment and Cedric watched him think.

Finally he shook his head.  "I'm not sure what to believe.  I believe you," he added quickly.  "Or at least, I believe you're convinced you spoke to an older Harry.  But who that was, and whether that person, or Professor Moody, is the imposter -- that I'm not certain of."  He turned his bright blue eyes on Cedric.  "I want you to go back to the castle and say nothing about this to anyone.  If someone does ask what you wanted to talk to me about, imply it concerned Durmstrang.  People already suspect Headmaster Karkaroff of cheating and they'll believe you found evidence of it.  We don't want Professor Moody to suspect -- whether he's truly Alastor or Barty in disguise.  And he will.  Alastor was born suspicious.  He'll ask you."

"Yes, sir."

"You leave me to see to the rest, Cedric."

"Yes, sir," he said again and headed out, leaving Dumbledore behind in his office.  Yet as he was about to exit the changing room itself, he remembered another detail about Polyjuice Potion.  Its effects lasted only an hour -- yet he'd spent far more than that with Harry in his office the night before.  He started to turn back to tell Dumbledore, but never had the chance . . . and never saw the person who caught him from behind.  All he heard, hissed in his ear, was, "Obliviate!"

Part 6: Task

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