Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

0537 Confused

"The headmaster of Durmstrang was a Death Eater?" Hermione's voice cracked with disbelief. Her jaw dropped, causing her thick bushy hair to shift slightly around her shoulders as she leaned forward in her worn wooden chair.

Harry, his eyes widening behind his round glasses, slowly turned his head to study the rowdy group of Durmstrang students gathered at the bar. Their thick fur-lined cloaks stood out starkly against the Inn's warm, firelit interior as they eagerly called out to Madam Rosmerta to keep serving drinks.

Thinking of Krum's surprisingly approachable demeanor and helpful nature, Harry said with obvious difficulty, "How is that possible? How could the school possibly allow--"

"Hmph--" The sound was caught in his throat as Sirius cut him off with a cold, bitter snort. His tired face twisted into a grimace as he spoke.

"There are plenty of strange and dark things in this world, far more than you might imagine," Sirius said absently tracing a deep groove in the ancient wooden table with one finger as he continued. "Honestly, Karkaroff isn't exactly what you'd call a brave fellow - quite the opposite, in fact. I thought he'd never dare set foot in Britain again, not after everything that happened.

Surprisingly, he somehow scraped together enough courage to bring his students here for the Triwizard Tournament, even knowing he'd have to face both Moody and Crouch. But that's about the extent of his backbone, mark my words."

Sirius's eyes darkened as he leaned forward, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "I'd bet my last Galleon that if there's even the faintest whisper of his old master returning, he'll run faster than a startled Hippogriff. He's not foolish enough to think his past actions would ever be forgiven--"

Sirius paused, taking a contemplative sip from his mug. When he continued, his voice carried a note of contempt. "This fellow isn't exactly known for his magnanimity either, mind you. So, it wouldn't surprise me if he harbors some festering resentment toward Dumbledore for stopping Voldemort back then. Or perhaps he's seeking some petty revenge because Bryan managed to outmaneuver him, securing Hogwarts as the host of the Triwizard Tournament. Neither would shock me in the least."

Hermione sat back in her chair, her fingers nervously twisting a strand of her bushy hair as she struggled to reconcile this new information with her experiences.

The idea that Krum's headmaster had once served Voldemort seemed utterly at odds with recent events - after all, hadn't he helped them in a way during the chaos at the World Cup? And just days ago, Krum had gone out of his way to offer her valuable advice about handling the tournament tasks.

"But--" Hermione began, biting her lower lip in that characteristic way she did when struggling with a particularly puzzling problem.

Her brow furrowed in concentration as she leaned forward, lowering her voice even further. "I don't understand. Even if Karkaroff is indeed a Death Eater, why would he specifically target me? It doesn't make any logical sense, does it? I'd never crossed paths with him before he arrived at Hogwarts. Surely he wouldn't just choose someone at random?"

Faced with this pointed question, Sirius's confident demeanor faltered slightly. The shadows under his eyes seemed to deepen as he shifted in his chair, showing that this particular puzzle had been keeping him awake at nights.

"Yes," he admitted slowly, "if he had targeted Harry, that would be much easier to understand--"

Harry's face darkened noticeably at these words. It seemed that any conversation involving Voldemort inevitably circled back to him, like a curse he couldn't escape.

Unable to unravel this particular mystery, Sirius's expression grew somewhat melancholic. He leaned back in his creaking wooden chair, staring up at the Inn's exposed wooden beams with troubled eyes that seemed to see far beyond the ceiling.

"What if--" Harry began tentatively, his forehead creasing with effort as he followed this line of thought to its logical conclusion. "What if Karkaroff had somehow heard of Hermione's name before?"

Noticing Hermione's startled expression, Harry quickly explained, his words coming faster as he worked through the theory. "Think about the World Cup incident - Krum must have mentioned it to his headmaster after returning to school. He might have told Karkaroff about helping you in the VIP box, and Karkaroff made particular note of it."

While this explanation wasn't impossible, it seemed rather far-fetched. Neither Hermione nor Sirius commented, though their silence spoke volumes.

The crackling fireplace filled the thoughtful pause with its warm, comforting sounds.

"Karkaroff being the culprit is just Moody's and my opinion," Sirius finally said, his fingers drumming absently on the scarred wooden table. "The truth might paint a different picture entirely--"

He paused, his dark eyes flicking briefly to Harry and Hermione's chairs. His expression shifted, becoming guarded, almost hesitant, as if struggling with a particularly difficult decision. "Actually, there's something you don't know about. I've been debating whether to share this with you, as I gave my word to keep it absolutely confidential."

"Oh, please tell us, Sirius!" The words burst from Harry and Hermione simultaneously. They exchanged quick glances through the shimmering fabric of the Invisibility Cloak. Harry leaned forward; his eyes bright with interest behind his glasses.

"Very well," Sirius conceded, his voice dropping even lower. He leaned forward, his long dark hair falling forward to partially shield his face from the casual observers. "But remember - this information doesn't leave this table."

His expression grew serious, almost mysterious in the tavern's twirling shadows. " It's like this: The day after you were chosen as champion, Hermione, I received an owl from Bryan. He requested a rather unusual favor. He wanted me to keep tabs on Barty Crouch, to monitor his movements within the Ministry without drawing attention to myself."

"B-Barty Crouch?" Hermione stammered, her eyes growing as wide as Galleons.

"Professor Watson asked you to--" Harry's sharp intake of breath cut through his own words.

The revelation landed between them like a thunderbolt, completely toppling their previous theories.

Neither of them had imagined that Professor Watson would suspect Barty Crouch.

If forced to choose, both Hermione and Harry would undoubtedly place their trust in Professor Watson's judgment over almost anyone else's. His track record spoke for itself, and his intuitions had been proven correct.

But this particular suspicion seemed almost too fantastic to believe. Why would a highly-respected Ministry official, someone who had apparently dedicated his life to upholding magical law, suddenly turn his attention to plotting against an unknown underage witch?

The gears in Hermione and Harry's minds were practically visible as they worked through this puzzle.

Suddenly, their eyes met across the table, twin expressions of realization appearing on their faces as a memory struck.

Their previous encounter with Barty Crouch came flooding back with crystal clarity - that night at the Quidditch World Cup final, while searching for Harry's missing wand. They had secretly entered the destroyed Quidditch pitch, only to witness another horrifying incident.

Hermione had even directly confronted Crouch that night, her righteous anger overwhelming her usual caution. She had condemned him in front of everyone about his heartless treatment of his house-elf Winky, even after everyone had basically agreed that Winky couldn't have been the one who conjured the Dark Mark.

Harry, his mind racing with possibilities, eagerly shared his theory about this connection, then waited anxiously for Sirius's assessment.

"Don't read too much into it, Harry--" Sirius's response came with a gentle shake of his head, causing Harry's enthusiasm to deflate like a punctured balloon.

A knowing chuckle escaped Sirius's lips as he continued, "If Barty Crouch were the type to hold such a petty grudge over that kind of confrontation, he'd never have risen to his current position in the Ministry. I'm sharing this information because it might - or might not - be connected to Hermione's selection as champion. The relationship between Bryan and Barty Crouch is far more complicated than you realize - it's entangled in the web of Ministry politics. Anyway, this isn't something you should be concerned about."

"So what you're saying is--" Hermione's mind cut straight to the heart of the matter, "You called us here today to warn us about both the Durmstrang headmaster and Barty Crouch?"

"And you need to keep a particularly watchful eye on that Durmstrang champion, Hermione--" Sirius's voice took on a serious tone, "Yes, I know he assisted us during the World Cup chaos, but circumstances have changed. He wasn't competing against you then. You might have read about it in books - Durmstrang is quite different from Hogwarts. Their teaching methods..."

He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Let's say they're considerably more aggressive in their approach. You understand my meaning, don't you? If presented with an opportunity to eliminate competition, I doubt he'd hesitate to seize it."

His voice dropped even lower, barely audible above the growing noise of the pub. "Teaching Dark Arts is deeply woven into their school's traditions. It shouldn't come as a surprise that they'd choose someone like Karkaroff - a Death Eater with a notorious reputation - as their headmaster."

Beneath the protective cover of the Invisibility Cloak, Hermione and Harry exchanged meaningful glances. While neither voiced their disagreement with Sirius's assessment of Krum, their silence spoke volumes about their skepticism.

As the hands of the clock above the bar crept toward noon, the Three Broomsticks began filling with its usual diverse crowd - local villagers in their thick wool cloaks, elegant Beauxbatons students who seemed to float rather than walk, and the fur-clad Durmstrang group.

A hopeful customer eyed the seemingly empty chairs at their table, but Sirius smoothly deflected the inquiry, claiming he was expecting additional company.

Despite the valuable intelligence Sirius had shared during their covert meeting, Harry couldn't quite shake a feeling of disappointment. He had harbored hope that Sirius would definitively identify the mastermind behind Hermione's mysterious selection and explain their motivations. Instead, they had more questions than answers.

Outside the frosted windows, a fine misty rain had begun to fall, shrouding Hogsmeade in an ethereal veil. In the distance, perched atop its lonely hill like a brooding watchman, the Shrieking Shack loomed through the haze, its battered walls and boarded windows keeping watch over the peaceful village below.

Through the flimsy curtain of rain, Hogsmeade seemed transformed into something out of a fairy tale - a village that time had forgotten, where every cobblestone and timber beam held centuries of magical secrets.

"There's one more thing I need to warn you about, Harry--" After a moment of silence, Sirius spoke again, his voice carrying an edge of carefully controlled concern that immediately captured both of their attention. Though he spoke softly, the seriousness in his tone made his words cut through the growing tavern noise like a knife.

"What is it?" Harry straightened in his chair, instantly alert. He realized that Sirius had saved this matter for last and Something in his manner said that this - this was what had truly prompted him to risk meeting them in person.

"I've been in regular correspondence with Remus," Sirius began, his fingers absently tracing the rim of his mug. "We've been discussing recent events. The World Cup incident needs no explanation - you lived through that nightmare.

But there's more. The Ministry's investigation into those masked wizards from the World Cup has turned up some... disturbing possibilities. Word is that those so-called Death Eaters were actually hired hands, and pulling their strings was someone far more dangerous - a genuine Death Eater."

This account stood in stark contrast to the Ministry's official stance, as published in the Daily Prophet's reassuring articles. But neither Harry nor Hermione needed to think hard about which version carried more weight - Sirius's words and his connections had been proven reliable before.

Harry's brow furrowed deeply as he absorbed this information, his mind already racing ahead to its implications.

"There are many signs indicating," Sirius continued, "that the Death Eaters are stirring, becoming bolder again. And you have to ask yourself - what would give these cunning rats, who've spent over a decade skulking in the shadows of the gutters, the courage to show themselves now? The wizarding world isn't just protected by Dumbledore anymore - we have Bryan as well. Unless--"

'Unless what?'

The unfinished sentence hung in the air like a curse.

There was only one possibility - Only one thing could encourage Voldemort's old followers - the sense that their master was regaining his strength.

"Many eyes are fixed on Hogwarts right now, watching both Dumbledore and Bryan. And in the midst of all this scrutiny, we have this suspicious incident with the Triwizard Tournament - it's impossible not to see potential connections. So please, Harry,"

Sirius's eyes bore into his godson's with fierce intensity, "Stay alert at school. If anything seems out of place, don't try to handle it yourself. Dumbledore, Bryan, or Moody are all trustworthy people - let them handle the problems."

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