Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE 
 
 
The Dream
“It comes down to this,” said Hermione, rubbing her forehead. “Either Mr. Crouch attacked 
Viktor, or somebody else attacked both of them when Viktor wasn’t looking.” 
“It must’ve been Crouch,” said Ron at once. “That’s why he was gone when Harry and 
Dumbledore got there. He’d done a runner.” 
“I don’t think so,” said Harry, shaking his head. “He seemed really weak - I don’t reckon he was 
up to Disapparating or anything.” 
“You can’t Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds, haven’t I told you enough times?” said 
Hermione. 
“Okay… hows this for a theory,” said Ron excitedly. “Krum attacked Crouch - no, wait for it - 
and then Stunned himself!” 
“And Mr. Crouch evaporated, did he?” said Hermione coldly. 
“Oh yeah…” 
It was daybreak. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had crept out of their dormitories very early and 
hurried up to the Owlery together to send a note to Sirius. Now they were standing looking out at 
the misty grounds. All three of them were puffy-eyed and pale because they had been talking late 
into the night about Mr. Crouch.
“Just go through it again, Harry,” said Hermione. “What did Mr. Crouch actually say?” 
“I’ve told you, he wasn’t making much sense,” said Harry. “He said he wanted to warn 
Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think 
she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault… He mentioned his son.” 
“Well, that was his fault,” said Hermione testily. 
“He was out of his mind,” said Harry. “Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were 
still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions.” 
“And… remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?” said Ron tentatively. 
“I’ve told you,” Harry repeated dully. “He said he’s getting stronger.” 
There was a pause. Then Ron said in a falsely confident voice, “But he was out of his mind, like 
you said, so half of it was probably just raving…” 

---

“He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort,” said Harry, and Ron winced at the 
sound of the name. “He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when 
he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to 
see Dumbledore.” 
Harry turned away from the window and stared up into the rafters. The many perches were half-
empty; every now and then, another owl would swoop in through one of the windows, returning 
from its night’s hunting with a mouse in its beak. 
“If Snape hadn’t held me up,” Harry said bitterly, “we might’ve got there in time. ‘The 
headmaster is busy. Potter… what’s this rubbish, Potter?’ Why couldn’t he have just got out of 
the way?” 
“Maybe he didn’t want you to get there!” said Ron quickly. “Maybe - hang on - how fast d’you 
reckon he could’ve gotten down to the forest? D’you reckon he could’ve beaten you and 
Dumbledore there?” 
“Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something,” said Harry. 
“Wouldn’t put it past him,” Ron muttered. 
“We need to see Professor Moody,” said Hermione. “We need to find out whether he found Mr. 
Crouch.”
“If he had the Marauder’s Map on him, it would’ve been easy,” said Harry. 
“Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds,” said Ron, “because it only shows up to the 
boundaries, doesn’t -” 
“Shh!” said Hermione suddenly. 
Somebody was climbing the steps up to the Owlery. Harry could hear two voices arguing, 
coming closer and closer. 
“- that’s blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that-” 
“- we’ve tried being polite; it’s time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn’t like the Ministry of 
Magic knowing what he did -” 
“I’m telling you, if you put that in writing, it’s blackmail!” 
“Yeah, and you won’t be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?” 
The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George came over the threshold, then froze at the sight 
of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. 

---

“What’re you doing here?” Ron and Fred said at the same time. 
“Sending a letter,” said Harry and George in unison. 
“What, at this time?” said Hermione and Fred. 
Fred grinned. 
“Fine - we won’t ask you what you’re doing, if you don’t ask us,” he said. He was holding a 
sealed envelope in his hands. Harry glanced at it, but Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, 
shifted his hand so that the name on it was covered. 
“Well, don’t let us hold you up,” Fred said, making a mock bow and pointing at the door. 
Ron didn’t move. “Who’re you blackmailing?” he said. 
The grin vanished from Fred’s face. Harry saw George half glance at Fred, before smiling at 
Ron. 
“Don’t be stupid, I was only joking,” he said easily. 
“Didn’t sound like that,” said Ron. 
Fred and George looked at each other. Then Fred said abruptly, “I’ve told you before, Ron, keep 
your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can’t see why you would, but -” 
“It’s my business if you’re blackmailing someone,” said Ron. “George’s right, you could end up 
in serious trouble for that.” 
“Told you, I was joking,” said George. He walked over to Fred, pulled the letter out of his hands, 
and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. “You’re starting to sound a bit like our 
dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you’ll be made a prefect.” 
“No, I won’t!” said Ron hotly. 
George carried the barn owl over to the window and it took off. George turned around and 
grinned at Ron. 
“Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later.” 
He and Fred left the Owlery. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at one another. 
“You don’t think they know something about all this, do you?” Hermione whispered. “About 
Crouch and everything?” 

---

“No,” said Harry. “If it was something that serious, they’d tell someone. They’d tell 
Dumbledore.” 
Ron, however, was looking uncomfortable. 
“What’s the matter?” Hermione asked him. 
“Well…” said Ron slowly, “I dunno if they would. They’re… they’re obsessed with making 
money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them - when - you know -” 
“We weren’t talking.” Harry finished the sentence for him. “Yeah, but blackmail…”
“It’s this joke shop idea they’ve got,” said Ron. “I thought they were only saying it to annoy 
Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They’ve only got a year left at Hogwarts, 
they keep going on about how it’s time to think about their future, and Dad can’t help them, and 
they need gold to get started.” 
Hermione was looking uncomfortable now. 
“Yes, but… they wouldn’t do anything against the law to get gold.” 
“Wouldn’t they?” said Ron, looking skeptical. “I dunno… they don’t exactly mind breaking 
rules, do they?” 
“Yes, but this is the law” said Hermione, looking scared. “This isn’t some silly school rule… 
They’ll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron… maybe you’d better tell Percy…” 
“Are you mad?” said Ron. “Tell Percy? He’d probably do a Crouch and turn them in.” 
He stared at the window through which Fred and George’s owl had departed, then said, “Come 
on, let’s get some breakfast.” 
“D’you think it’s too early to go and see Professor Moody?” Hermione said as they went down 
the spiral staircase. 
“Yes,” said Harry. “He’d probably blast us through the door if we wake him at the crack of 
dawn; he’ll think we’re trying to attack him while he’s asleep. Let’s give it till break.” 
History of Magic had rarely gone so slowly. Harry kept checking Ron’s watch, having finally 
discarded his own, but Ron’s was moving so slowly he could have sworn it had stopped working 
too. All three of them were so tired they could happily have put their heads down on the desks 
and slept; even Hermione wasn’t taking her usual notes, but was sitting with her head on her 
hand, gazing at Professor Binns with her eyes out of focus. 

---

When the bell finally rang, they hurried out into the corridors toward the Dark Arts classroom 
and found Professor Moody leaving it. He looked as tired as they felt. The eyelid of his normal 
eye was drooping, giving his face an even more lopsided appearance than usual. 
“Professor Moody?” Harry called as they made their way toward him through the crowd. 
“Hello, Potter,” growled Moody. His magical eye followed a couple of passing first years, who 
sped up, looking nervous; it rolled into the back of Moody’s head and watched them around the 
corner before he spoke again. 
“Come in here.” 
He stood back to let them into his empty classroom, limped in after them, and closed the door. 
“Did you find him?” Harry asked without preamble. “Mr. Crouch?” 
“No,” said Moody. He moved over to his desk, sat down, stretched out his wooden leg with a 
slight groan, and pulled out his hip flask. 
“Did you use the map?” Harry said. 
“Of course,” said Moody, taking a swig from his flask. “Took a leaf out of your book, Potter. 
Summoned it from my office into the forest. He wasn’t anywhere on there.” 
“So he did Disapparate?” said Ron. 
“You can’t Disapparate on the grounds, Ron!” said Hermione. “There are other ways he could 
have disappeared, aren’t there, Professor?” 
Moody’s magical eye quivered as it rested on Hermione. “You’re another one who might think 
about a career as an Auror,” he told her. “Mind works the right way Granger.” 
Hermione flushed pink with pleasure. 
“Well, he wasn’t invisible,” said Harry. “The map shows invisible people. He must’ve left the 
grounds, then.” 
“But under his own steam?” said Hermione eagerly, “or because someone made him?” 
“Yeah, someone could’ve - could’ve pulled him onto a broom and flown off with him, couldn’t 
they?” said Ron quickly, looking hopefully at Moody as if he too wanted to be told he had the 
makings of an Auror. 
“We can’t rule out kidnap,” growled Moody. 
“So,” said Ron, “d’you reckon he’s somewhere in Hogsmeade?” 

---

“Could be anywhere,” said Moody, shaking his head. “Only thing we know for sure is that he’s 
not here.” 
He yawned widely, so that his scars stretched, and his lopsided mouth revealed a number of 
missing teeth. Then he said, “Now, Dumbledore’s told me you three fancy yourselves as 
investigators, but there’s nothing you can do for Crouch. The Ministry’ll be looking for him now, 
Dumbledore’s notified them. Potter, you just keep your mind on the third task.” 
“What?” said Harry. “Oh yeah…” 
He hadn’t given the maze a single thought since he’d left it with Krum the previous night. 
“Should be right up your street, this one,” said Moody, looking up at Harry and scratching his 
scarred and stubbly chin. “From what Dumbledore’s said, you’ve managed to get through stuff 
like this plenty of times. Broke your way through a series of obstacles guarding the Sorcerer’s 
Stone in your first year, didn’t you?”
“We helped,” Ron said quickly. “Me and Hermione helped.” 
Moody grinned. 
“Well, help him practice for this one, and I’ll be very surprised if he doesn’t win,” said Moody. 
“In the meantime… constant vigilance, Potter. Constant vigilance.” 
He took another long draw from his hip flask, and his magical eye swiveled onto the window. 
The topmost sail of the Durmstrang ship was visible through it. 
“You two,” counseled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and Hermione, “you stick close to Potter, 
all right? I’m keeping an eye on things, but all the same… you can never have too many eyes 
out.” 
Sirius sent their owl back the very next morning. It fluttered down beside Harry at the same 
moment that a tawny owl landed in front of Hermione, clutching a copy of the Daily Prophet in 
its beak. She took the newspaper, scanned the first few pages, said, “Ha! She hasn’t got wind of 
Crouch!” then joined Ron and Harry in reading what Sirius had to say on the mysterious events 
of the night before last.