I do not own Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire or the Percy Jackson series/characters.

Quotes from book

"How did you handle it? The weight of the world?" Harry asked one night as his father was putting him to bed.

"Are we talking metaphorical or physical? Cause let me tell you, the physical was easier to manage than the metaphorical one," Percy said as he tucked the blanket around Harry.

"Metaphorical," Harry helpfully added.

Percy leaned back, seeming in thought as his hand started to gently move Harry's hair out of his face before running his hands through the what-appeared-as-a-tangled-mess-but-wasn't.

"It wasn't easy. So many believed in what I could or could not do. Half the time I didn't even know what I was doing. I was stressed and believed no matter what I did was going to be the wrong choice that was going to end the world. It wasn't easy, always second-guessing yourself, what you believe in, the people around you that could just as easily betray you as you, them. I think the thing that got me through it, was the friends I made along the way. I relied on them to help me not second-guess myself. To not make choices that didn't seem like me. Yes, sometimes I contradicted what they thought and what they thought I should do, but when you're put in the position of power, sometimes you have to do that," Percy explained carefully.

"But there isn't an easy way to handle it. Many through history could not, and sometimes I couldn't either some days. I might tell you these stories in the show of heroism and that nothing really went wrong, but there were days I wished I would die. Days I hoped my next battle would be my last, that I would finally be able to finally rest. If you take anything out of this though, it's never go down without a fight in some way. Keep fighting with all you have, and if you cannot, then at least make your death a good one. Giving in to the urge to die, is not handling it, it's just running away. While never fully a bad thing, there are certain times and places where you should and shouldn't run away. Does that answer your question?" Percy asked as his hand kept the soothing motion of running through his son's hair.

"Not really," Harry said with a slight frown, "I didn't really understand what you just said."

Percy smiled softly even as he shook his head. "Maybe one day you will. But I hope that day never comes," he said as he bent down and kissed Harry's forehead. "Now, get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow."

"Okay, Daddy," Harry muttered as he let his father's soothing motion on his hair lull him into a soft steady sleep.

Harry felt himself slam flat into the ground; his face was pressed into the grass; the smell of it filled his nostrils. He had closed his eyes while the Portkey transported him, and he kept them closed now. He did not move. All the breath seemed to have been knocked out of him; his head was swimming so badly he felt as though the ground beneath him were swaying like the deck of a ship.

He felt as though he would slide away into the blackness gathering at the edges of his brain. Shock and exhaustion kept him on the ground, breathing in the smell of the grass, waiting . . . waiting for someone to do something . . . something to happen . . . 

A torrent of sound deafened and confused him; there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams. . . . He remained where he was, his face screwed up against the noise, as though it were a nightmare that would pass. . . .

Then a pair of hands seized him roughly and turned him over. "Harry! Harry!"(- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 670-671)

His eyes opened to come face to face with his father's scared face. "Dad!" Harry shouted and instantly let go of the cup to jump into his father's waiting arms. Though exhausted, his feet crumpled under him as he gripped his father.

Following his son's form, father and son embraced as they knelt on the cold ground of the grass that was underneath them. "Are you okay?" Percy muttered into the hug, Harry being the only one to hear it.

"No," Harry muttered as he felt the exhaustion trying to claw its way into his brain and take over. "Gri-Grindelwald...he's back," Harry muttered, feeling hysteria hit him suddenly as he started to cry so he didn't laugh instead.

The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside down over Harry; it looked white, appalled.

"My God — Diggory!" it whispered. "Dumbledore — he's dead!" The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them . . . and then others shouted it — screeched it — into the night — "He's dead!" "He's dead!"

"Cedric Diggory! Dead!"

"We found his body in the maze, seems like the Killing Curse," he muttered to Dumbledore, but Harry heard everything.

The crowd around them jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly in on him — "What's happened?" "What's wrong with him?" "Diggory's dead!"

"He'll need to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge was saying loudly. "He's ill, he's injured — Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here, they're in the stands. . . ."

"I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him —"

"No, I would prefer —"

"Dumbledore, Amos Diggory's running . . . he's coming over. . . . Don't you think you should tell him — before he sees — ?"

"I can try and help," Harry heard his father say, almost reluctantly. "I'll have Sirius and Remus meet you in the wing, stay with Harry as he calms down."

"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked.

"Not really, but I want to do something," Harry distantly heard his father say.

"Harry, stay here —"

Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically. . . . The 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 he was half pulling, half carrying him through the frightened crowd. Harry heard people 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.

"They....they killed Cedric?"

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Up the marble stairs . . . "Was the Dark Lord there? What happened?"

"Killed Cedric . . . they killed Cedric. . . ."

"And then?"

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Along the corridor . . . "Cedric's dead?"

"Come on, has he returned?"

"Why...when did Cedric die?"

"Did you duel with the Dark Lord?"

Harry stayed silent, his mind stuck on the news he just heard. His friend from the first year was now dead...

"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 had looked, and both eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon Harry's face.

"Grindelwald's back, Harry? You're sure he's back? How did he do it?"

"I...I don't know. He was so young, I don't know," said Harry. His head felt clearer;  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 field.

"Did the Dark Lord take anything from you?" said Moody.

"No," said Harry.

Moody let out his breath in a long, low hiss.

"And his followers? Were they there?"

"No," said Harry. "None of them . . ."

But Harry had suddenly remembered. He should have told Dumbledore, he should have said it straight away —

"There's a Follower at Hogwarts! There's a Follower of Grindelwald 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 it 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 we say the green flash of light in the maze and assumed the worst. 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 goblet?"

"No," said Moody slowly. "No, he didn't. It was I who did that."

"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.(- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 671-675)

Harry's mind whirled with the new information. The way his magics been acting up in Moody's presence, the constant feeling like he could never be in the man's proximity without feeling off, how Lunar and Regina seem to naturally hate the man.

"You...you killed Cedric?" Harry's monotone voice breaking the tense atmosphere there suddenly was.

Either Moody didn't realize the stepping stones he was now on as he nodded, "I had. He was getting too close to the cup, you had to be the one to reach it. So I had him killed," he said and almost as an afterthought, "Krum I had to enchant to go another way, but Diggory, well he's got a certain mind on him. Didn't show promise in class, but I suppose when it counted his natural response came through. As for that Fleur girl, merely put a Dementor in her path and watched her call for help because of it."

"You killed him," Harry said, his mind seemed to clear from when he had drunk the tea that was still resting in his hands.

"We've been over this, I have. Now tell me, Harry, did the Dark Lord tell you his plans?" Moody asked almost gleefully.

But Harry didn't hear a word he said, his mind replaying the fact that the person in front of him killed his friend Cedric. His fists clenched in his lap as his drained magic seemed to rejuvenate right in front of him. He felt his insides burn at the thought.

"You killed him!" Harry shouted as he stood up angrily, the teacup falling to the ground and breaking upon impact, but Harry didn't notice it, only noticed the way the Moody Imposter's eyes widen almost instantly as he grabbed his wand that was resting on the table beside Harry.

Harry didn't want that, so he pushed his magic into his hand and aimed it at Moody and watched him fly into the wall just opposite of him, not even touching the ground as his pure magic restrained him against the wall.

"Who are you!" Harry shouted and felt his magic bend to will. Stripping away the potion that was in the imposter's system.

Harry watched as the image of Moody slowly ran away until a figure he thought was Barty Crouch Jr. appeared before him. A person who went from one Dark Lord to another it seemed.

"How...how are you doing this?" choked Barty Jr. as his airways started closing from nothing but pure magical hate.

"You killed him!" Harry screamed.

The door burst in and Harry noticed Dumbledore, his father, and another man with ginger hair enter the room.

"Harry, stop!" his father screamed over the magical atmosphere that seemed almost crushing.

Just as it started, it suddenly stopped and Harry looked confused at the newcomer who seemed to have just sucked up his magic that held Moody against the wall and filled the room.

The man stumbled back, almost like he hadn't expected as much as he thought, and was steadied by Dumbledore. 

Harry just had enough time to see Dumbledore mutter to the man, "You can go, thank you Mr.Scamander and it was a pleasure to see you and your husband again. Thank you for the golem of Cedric."

And then there was darkness.

Next Chapter: The Parting of the Ways

Word Count: 2152