Crouching Lion, Hidden Serpent

By: Lutris Argutiae

Chapter One: The Fall of a Dark Lord

Pensieve Journal of Bartemius Crouch

31 October, 1991

The entire building was reduced to ruins when I arrived at the scene. Green flames flickered in the rubble. In the darkness, I could make out a small light in the distance, coming closer and closer. A rumbling sound came from the general direction of the light. I could vaguely see a humanoid shadow astride it. As it drew closer towards the house, I noticed that there was another sound in the immediate area. I realized what it was. The cry of an infant. I only made it into the bushes to hide myself in the nick of time when the vehicle crash-landed on the street.

Peeking out of the bushes, I could now identify what the rumbling thing was: a motorbike. It was black; a Harley-Davidson, whatever that was, if the logo was any indication. The man on the bike turned the key, and the engine stopped. The man pulled off his black helmet, shrank it, and stowed it in the compartment under the seat of the vehicle. The man shook his long black hair, and turned towards the house.

He wasn't a Ministry officer; I could tell from the way he chose to arrive. Then why was he here? If he wasn't part of the special team I had set up to come to Godric's Hollow, he certainly wasn't allowed to be here. Being a Senior Ministry Official, I had been authorized to come as soon as word came in that the Potters had been attacked, and assembled a team to investigate the incident. He, on the other hand… was here on a very illegal visit.

Then the accidental magic erupted. I could feel the anxiety rolling off of this man, nearly thirty feet away from him. I could only watch as he dashed towards the ruined building and cast spells at the rubble. Of the few I could hear, I could discern a few life-search spells, and several locating charms amongst other incantations. After several minutes, the man stopped his casting, and bent down. When he stood up, he now carried a bundle; after a few seconds, I realized that this was the baby… Harry Potter. How he survived is beyond me, but I see that his head is a mess of blood. He appeared to be placated only by the presence of the man. I cast an Eavesdropping Charm on the area they were at. I could now make out what was being said.

"Come on now Harry…time to get you out of here. I don't know how long I have until the Ministry people come, and I have to take you to somewhere safe… somewhere nobody can find you. Padfoot will take you to his house, okay little Harrykins?"

Harry answered with a gurgle, apparently not aware of the fact that his parents were dead. Strange that he wasn't crying… I hear that head injuries are some of the most painful. Back at the house, I could see the man conjure a black teddy bear behind his back, presenting it to the boy.

"Righto then. Snuffles and I'll have you out of harm's way in no time, right Harry?"

The stuffed animal, Snuffles, I assumed, found itself in a newly conjured basket along with the baby. The man placed the basket onto the motorbike, not bouncing it around too much. He popped open the under-seat compartment, and pulled out the helmet. He restored it to its original size, and was about to pull it over his head when a booming voice rang out from the far side of the rubble.

"Lily? James? 'Arry where are ye? 'Ellooo! 'Arry? Anybody there?"

I could tell exactly who and what the owner of the voice was, and who's orders he came on. The owner of the voice was Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The half-giant probably… no, definitely came by word of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of said school. With a frown, I wonder why the groundskeeper and pawn of the so-called leader of the light was doing at the scene of Death Eater activity looking for a single victim of the raid.

The half-giant stops; probably from the sight of the man with the motorbike

"Oi! Sirius Black! What're ye doin' 'ere ye young rascal!" Hagrid called out quite loudly.

The man, Sirius Black, a two-year Auror if I remember correctly, responds with a voice as loud as the groundskeeper.

"I'm taking Harry to somewhere safe, Hagrid. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

Hagrid visibly frowns, "Sorry Sirius, but I've got ta take 'im to Dumbledore. Dumbledore's orders."

Black, as stunned at this new revelation as me, although probably from different reasons, looked shaken. With a quiver in his voice, he said, "No, Hagrid, you can't take him; I've got to take him somewhere safe, away from Voldemort. Safe… that's what Dumbledore wants for Harry to be, isn't it?"

Hagrid shook his head. "Sirius, he'll be safe with Dumbledore. You can' get much safer than tha', righ'? I'm takin' 'im to where Dumbledore told me to take 'im, and tha's tha'."

Black, seeing that he was getting nowhere in convincing the half-giant, nodded his head. He walked back to the motorbike, and pulled out a piece of parchment and the keys to the bike. With his wand, he enlarged the motorbike by at least half its size, and cast a Durability Charm on it, renewing the Sticking Charm on the basket with another flick.

""Here you go Hagrid. It'll be a lot faster wherever you're going with this. Take care of both my babies, all right? I'll come back for the Harley later."

With that, Black walked away from the bike, and sat down on a piece of debris, cradling his head in his hands. I could hear several strangled sobs before he stood up, and whispered to himself, "Now all I've got to do is hunt down Wormtail and kill him. Ohh, I'll enjoy killing him, that traitor…" The Auror Black, after scratching his head, waved to the half-giant, and apparated away.

After watching Black depart, Hagrid lumbered over to the motorbike, and after a few glances to ensure nobody was watching, pulled a small, pink umbrella out of his coat. A burst of light later, the helmet grew to his own size, and he picked it up after stowing the umbrella within his coat once again.

It was here that I decided to make my move.

"Hagrid." I called out.

With a jump, the man turned around to greet me, dropping the helmet in the process.

"'Er… 'ello Mr.Crouch. 'M afraid I'm jus' on business of tha Headmaster tonigh'."

"Oh really, Hagrid? Then why does the Headmaster Dumbledore have business with the location of a Death Eater attack oh, say about a mere quarter of an hour after it happened, hmm?" I inquire.

At this, the groundskeeper looks outraged. "It wasn' no Death Eater attack; I' was You-Know-Who hisself Barty."

I did a double take from hearing this news. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself? What the hell?

"Sorry if I heard you wrong Hagrid, but did you just say that the Dark Lord himself attacked the Potters tonight?"

"Oh. I shouldn' have said tha'…I shoudn' have said tha'…. Er, um, well ye see sir, I uh…" I cut him off.

"That can be verified later anyway, Hagrid. For now, I just want to know what does the Headmaster want to accomplish taking a baby illegally from its, for lack of better term, home, when it should be made a ward of the Ministry, at least until the Will is read?"

Hagrid looks to be of two voices now. To take the baby and run, following his employer's orders, or to hand over the boy and comply with my reason. As an answer, he picks on the helmet, and shoves the key into the motorbike's ignition.

"Hagrid," I start.

Hagrid ignores me, until he hears what I say next.

"Your record is against you Hagrid. Remember thirty eight years ago?"

He freezes, and gives me a look, terror in his eyes even through the visor of the helmet. He gets off of the vehicle after a few seconds of me staring him down, and picks the baby Potter up from the basket, and passes him to me, along with Snuffles. Hagrid signals me with a grunt, climbs on the motorbike, and flies off into the night sky. A few seconds later, a number of cracks assure me of the arrival of my investigative task force, and I debrief the team.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"Right. As you know, some Death Eaters attacked the Potters tonight. They're supposed to be under Fidelius, so I don't know why we can see the house, Sowerby, check on that. I've received information citing Dumbledore that this was the Dark Lord's work. And I mean He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself. Rex, I want you and two others to check for magical signatures in the area, they should still be fresh. Mencks, I want you to try and find out when exactly this happened. Frederickson, use the blueprints we have to get a physical of the house. Bode, as usual, take care of any Unspeakable items in the house; we know Potter was one. The rest of you, check for survivors. Go!"

The team sprinted towards the house. I watch them getting to their work, before regarding the boy, Harry. I use my wand to vanish the blood from his face and cast a cleaning charm on him. He has the beginnings of the Potter hair; black and messy. He appears to have the green eyes his mother has. Had, I remind myself. But then, I noticed the jagged cut on his forehead…

Bode shook me out of my stupor.

"Sir, I think you should see this."

"What is it?"

"Standard Unspeakable House Watcher. If you didn't know, it records what happens in every room of an Unspeakable's home, in case something goes wrong."

Annoyed, I raised my voice. "Yes, yes, I know what it is."

"Requesting permission to request HQ for master password to view house-memories, sir."

""Permission granted. Confirm the identity of the attackers, if possible, Bode."

"Got it sir."

Bode walked away, pulling out a Portable Fireplace of his pocket as he did so. A tap of a finger on my shoulder alerted me to another man.

"Sir, there appears to be a monumental backwash of magical energy surrounding the house right now; we can't tell who was in there. Only thing we could detect in that sort of energy was the Killing Curse. I say we should get an Aura Searcher here soon, before it deteriorates, sir."

"Get on it immediately. Tell Rex to try checking for James Potter or Lily Potter's wand signature. They had to put up some sort of struggle anyhow."

"Yes, sir. Also, Mencks told me that the Fidelius isn't working anymore because the Secret-Keeper himself destroyed the anchor for it. Apparently, it was hidden underneath the postbox, in the dirt. We might have a betrayal on our hands, Chief."

"I'll inform Dumbledore then. Good work, Elwood. See if you can help for the survivors; I've got Harry here; make his parents the search priorities, if they haven't already done so."

"Yes, sir. Right on it."

Frederickson approached me next. "Sir, magical deterioration suggests time period of crime at around one and two hours ago."

"Good work Frederickson. At ease. Start compiling information and present me the report in one hour." I reply.

"Yes sir." Frederickson salutes me, and starts taking reports from the others.

I watched as Elwood strode to the group of five standing a few feet from the house. If I remember correctly, the one taking readings is Silver, who used to head the Missing in Plain Sight program in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement a few years back. I follow the former to the group, and ask for a progress report.

"Well sir, we've got us three bodies in there, but we don't know if they're still alive or not. At least one of 'em 's dead, from what we've heard from Elwood's report here. Looks like one of the perpetrators is in there from what we can tell, 'cause there were only two adults and the boy living there last we checked."

"Get an ID on the unknown man, Silver. If it's true that the Dark Lord himself attacked, that means that he came here alone, unless we count the traitor Secret-Keeper. There's half a chance that the extra is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself! Get to it! The day's suddenly getting better!"

The man replied, apparently as enthusiastic as I made it sound like. "Yes Sir! Getting right to it!"

I turned, and then regarded the boy again. I touched the bleeding cut on his forehead, and he squealed in pain.

"Sorry, lad, but I've a feeling this is going to get you back in the future. I'll get you to the medics now. There's a good boy. You! Yes, you Blackwell! Get a spare Floo channel ready in two minutes!"

"Right on it sir!"

I return my attention to Master Potter. I slowly start to piece together the clues I possessed. One, the Potters must have been particularly crucial to the war; along with the Longbottoms, who were also under Fidelius. Two, Harry Potter was important enough that Dumbledore sends an emissary to get him as soon as he receives confirmation that the Potters have been attacked. But then why is he so sure that there is a boy alive to retrieve? Then pieces click together. The extra body, the Killing Curse, the magical backlash, the Potter heir's survival, and the interference of Dumbledore.

Somehow, Dumbledore knew that the Potter boy would be important to the end of the war, presumably the Longbottom boy as well. If the unidentified body was indeed the Dark Lord's, he would have been defeated by a mere baby, heralding the end of the Years of Terror.

Blackwell alerts me to the connection of the Floo portal to the Aurors' Houses of Healing. I send him to the Head Healer along with young Harry, to check for any conditions. Not to mention little Snuffles, who the boy insists on taking along, even asleep.

I walk over to Bode to check on his progress. "Bode, have you got the thing to work yet?"

"Yes sir. Skimming through memories of the past month at the moment, sir."

I reprimand him in a chilling tone. "Bode, we are here to investigate the attack on the Potters, which occurred only an hour or two ago. Why are you looking at past memories?"

Bode splutters. "Well sir, I uh, was checking for any prior engagement that might have affected the magical energy and backwash."

"Need I remind you that we are only searching for the events of the past twenty-four hours, Bode?"

"No sir, I'm looking at four hours ago right now sir!"

I take a look at the image flickering above the device, which is shaped like a small dome. I see nothing out of the ordinary; Lily Potter cuddling the baby on her lap in the living room, and James Potter writing his progress report on the day's events. Nothing was worth noting until about an hour ago, just before midnight. James Potter's voice could be heard yelling: "Lily! He's here! Take Harry and go!". Then the doorway was blasted open by a spell, and a man stepped in. A man that forced many an accomplished wizard to cower in their boots. Bode and myself shivered.

It was the Dark Lord.

What happened next was standard in killings where the Dark Lord participated in. Taunt, Duel, Kill; in that order. James Potter's corpse was cast aside, and the Dark Lord ascended the stairs to the baby's room.

Lily Potter sacrificed herself, and somehow, little Harry survived the Killing curse, along with the subsequent explosion.

"Oh lord. Holy Merlin father of magic… You-Know-Who's dead… You-Know-Who is dead. You-Know-Who is dead! Everyone! The war's over! You-Know-Who's DEAD!" Bode roared out, alerting the whole team. There was silence, and then a cheer.

The war against the Dark Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was indeed, over.

The war for Harry Potter, as I would discover over the next few days, had only just begun.