PRIORI INCANTATEM by Arianna Waters (read with me .TXT) 📖

castle!” yelled Professor McGonagall. “When Dumbledore finds out —”

The hospital doors burst open. Fudge came striding up the ward. Professor McGonagall and Snape were at his heels.

“Where’s Dumbledore?” Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.

“He’s not here,” said Mrs. Weasley angrily. “This is a hosp—”

The door opened and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.

“What had happened?” said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to McGonagall. “Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I’m surprised at you — I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch —”

“There is no such need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!” she shrieked. “The Minister has seen to that!”

“When we told Mr. Fudge that what had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight’s events,” said Snape in a low voice, “he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch —”

“I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!” Professor McGonagall fumed. “I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but —”

“My dear woman!” roared Fudge, “as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous —”

But McGonagall’s voice drowned Fudge’s.

“The moment that — thing entered the room,” she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over, “it swooped down on Crouch and — and —”

Harry did not need her to finish the sentence. The dementor had administered his fatal kiss to Barty Crouch, and had sucked his soul away. He was worse than dead.

“By no accounts, he is no loss!” blustered Fudge.

“But he cannot give testimony now, Cornelius,” said Dumbledore.

“Well, there’s no mystery to it, is it? He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told him, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who’s instructions!”

“Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said. “Those people’s deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to his full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body.”

Fudge looked as though someone had slapped him in the face. “You-Know-Who . . . returned? Preposterous. Come on, Dumbledore . . .”

“As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you,” said Dumbledore, “we heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort —learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins — went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return.”

“You — you can’t seriously believe that. . . . Certainly Crouch may have believed himself to be acting on You-Know-Who’s orders ­— but —”

“When we touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, I and Harry were transported straight to Voldemort,” Cedric said. “He killed me.”

“I see you very much alive, Mr. Diggory.” Fudge spoke.

“That was because something happened between our wands . . . mine and Voldemort’s . . . which revived Cedric, Bertha, Frank, my . . . mum and dad!” Harry spoke up.

Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, James and Lily jumped. None of them had realized that Harry was awake.

Fudge’s face wore a curious smile. “You are — er — prepared to Take Harry’s word on this, are you, Dumbledore?”

“Certainly, I believe Harry,” said Dumbledore. His eyes were blazing now. “I heard Crouch’s confession, and I heard Harry and Cedric’s account of what happened after they touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer. Along with that, I have listened to the account of James and Lily Potter, this muggle man Frank Bryce, and Bertha Jorkins.”

Fudge still had that strange smile on his face. “You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, a boy who believes he had been killed by You-Know-Who, two imposters who say they are a couple that had died fourteen years ago, a muggle, and a boy who . . . well . . .”

“You’ve been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge,” Harry quietly said as he understood what Fudge was implying.

Fudge reddened slightly, but spoke up, “And if I have?” he said, looking at Dumbledore.

“Listen to me, Minister. Or should I say a Junior Assistant of Vice-Head of the Auror Department, as you were in my time, Cornelius.” James Potter spoke up, shooting him a deathly glare. “I am the same James Potter who appointed you as my Jr. Assistant. Same person who told you that you have fallen in love with the wrong man, Malfoy is a Death Eater, same person who helped you out of an illegal business with the goblins — should I continue Fudge . . . er . . . Minister.”

Everyone laughed as Fudge went redder and redder with every word James spoke.

“James, you forgot the time when dear old Fudge was pranked by Sirius Black who had turned his hair pink and he had been dressed in nothing but pink underwear, so he had to take leave from ministry for two days!” Lily added, sneering at the Minister.

“You’re imposters! All this is a lie!” Fudge roared.

“May I ask, Minister, why have you gone all red then?” Minerva McGonagall asked innocently.

“I fully believe that these two people are James and Lily Potter, returned to life by a rare event, Priori Incantatem. I believe you have heard about that before, Cornelius.” Dumbledore asked. “Yet, if you have any doubts, you can check them under Veritaserum. I think they will have no problem with that.”

“None at all, Dumbledore,” James said.

Fudge looked defeated, he still spoke “Come on Dumbledore . . . you atleast know that we cannot use Veritaserum for small things like this!”

“Small things?” Harry shouted. “Look, I saw Voldemort come back! I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy —”

“Malfoy was cleared!” said Fudge, visibly affronted. “A very old family — donations to excellent causes — I know boy, you’ll merely repeat the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!” said Fudge angrily. “For heaven’s sake Dumbledore — the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too —his tales are getting taller, and you’re still swallowing them ­— the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he’s trustworthy? It seems to me that you all are determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!”

“Voldemort has returned,” Dumbledore repeated.

“And Bertha Jorkins has admitted to me that she might have been confounded and believed some random Death Eater to be You-Know-Who. She had been held captive at that place for large part of a year now! And she, unlike you all, will be rewarded for telling the truth. I will take her under my own wing.”

Harry saw the ghost of a smile on Dumbledore’s lips. Bertha had played her part well.

“If your determination to shut your eyes and the love for your office will carry you as far as this, Cornelius,” said Dumbledore, “we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as what you see fit. And I — I shall act as I see fit.”

“I’ve given you a free rein always, Dumbledore. I’ve had a lot of respect for you. But if you’re going to work against me —”

“The only one against whom I intend to work,” said Dumbledore “is Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side.”

It seemed Fudge could think no answer to this. He rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands. Finally, he said, with a hint of plea in his voice, “He can’t be back, Dumbledore, he just can’t be . . .”

Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, putting up the left sleeve of his robe as he went. We struck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.

“There,” said Snape harshly. “There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Heath Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clear all year. Karkaroff’s too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord’s vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold.”

Fudge stepped back from Snape too. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled by the ugly mark in Snape’s arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, “I don’t know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have just this to add: ask your people imposing as the Potters to stop this act, or I’ll have to turn them to Azkaban. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry.”

He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped in between Harry and Cedric’s bed.

“Your winnings,” he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocked and dropping it on Cedric’s bedside table. “One thousand Galleons. Five hundred each. There should have been a presenting ceremony, but under these circumstances . . .” He turned to Dumbledore, “And I might add that this Diggory boy should be transferred to St. Mungo’s immediately. He is not in his state of mind.”

Sirius growled at him barring his teeth.

He crammed his bowler hat on his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at the group at Harry and Cedric’s bed.

After sending Bill, McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey away to do assigned tasks, and making sure that the door was locked, Dumbledore spoke again.

“And now,” he said, “it is time for some of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius . . . if you could resume your usual form.”

The great black dog, in an instant, turned into a man. Several things happened at once afterwards.

Mrs. Weasley screamed. “Sirius Black!” she shrieked, pointing at him, as Ron calmed her down.

Snape, who had not reacted as violently, gave him a look of mingled fury and horror. “Him,” he snarled, staring at Sirius. “What is he doing here?”

Frank Bryce shouted, “I KNOW HIM! I saw him on television, he’s a prison break!”

One person who had neither been a part of the group who helped Sirius escape, nor had been dead for more than fourteen years, but still was calm and collected, was Cedric Diggory. He had meant it when he said he would trust anyone Dumbledore trusted.

Meanwhile, Sirius grinned at James and Lily, “Welcome to the group of people trying to run away from Azkaban!”

“Azkaban?” James and Lily frowned.

“Yeah, for selling you out to Voldy!”

“But you did not! It was that old rat Pettigrew!” James shouted angrily.

This caught everyone’s attention.

“You mean to say he did not . . . Oh my God!” Molly Weasley whispered.

“I tried to tell people the same thing for fourteen years, nobody believed. And Prongs here said it once, you take his word! How justified.” Sirius stated.

Even Snape had looked aghast.

“If that is settled,” Lily spoke up, “May I ask what a Death Eater is doing amidst us?” She glared her old best-friend with a look of pure