Year 7-16: Collateral Damage

A/N: Posting this a couple days early before I leave town. I have a busy few weeks ahead, so I'll likely be updating every other week for a while from now on. Enjoy!

"Potter! Oi, Potter!"

Harry groaned and turned at the sound of the unpleasant voice. Amycus Carrow sauntered across the Great Hall towards him, a look of distaste upon his face. And the feeling was quite mutual.

"What do you want?" Harry huffed.

"Manners, Potter," Amycus chided him. "We need to talk."

Harry sighed and followed the man from the hall to an adjoining room. Unlike Grindelwald, he had no fear of being alone with the Carrows, who were far below him in terms of both intellect and magical ability. He'd successfully avoided the two thus far this term, and already dreaded whatever reason they had to bother him now.

Amycus rounded on Harry as soon as they were alone. "You've been slacking, Potter," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry demanded.

"Yer not keeping the kids in line," said Amycus. "Ain't you s'posed to be disciplining them?"

"Of course I have been," said Harry. He spent multiple evenings a week running detentions, a task Snape had delegated to him and him alone. "Maybe if you didn't issue so many detentions, I wouldn't have so many to look after."

"Yeah, well, they're getting' bolder, ain't they?" Amycus complained. "I got at least ten brats per day givin' me lip! I ain't gonna stand fer it, I ain't!"

"You haven't harmed another student, have you?" Harry growled menacingly. The image of Danny Galloway writhing in pain under the Cruciatus Curse flashed through his mind, and he was tempted (as he often was) to strike Amycus down where he stood.

"Headmaster won't let me touch 'em," Amycus grumbled. "Which is why they're yer problem now. So bloody do something about it!"

"I'll take it under advisement, thanks," Harry said dryly, before turning to leave the room. But Amycus caught his arm before he could do so.

"Watch yourself, Potter," Amycus snarled. "Wouldn't wanna give the idea that yer goin' soft on the kiddies. Our master might not like that none."

"Take it up with him, then," Harry snapped. And he wrenched his arm free, departing the room and slamming the door shut in Amycus' face.

Take him out before he becomes a bigger problem, the Elder Wand whispered in his mind. You're planning to kill him anyway...why not start there to send a message?

But Harry pushed the thought away. Now was not the time to pick a fight with the Carrows. He would be the first suspect if anything became of them – their proximity meant that he had to tread carefully to avoid drawing Voldemort's suspicion. It was the same reason he could not touch Grindelwald...Harry had to maintain the guise that he was no threat, or else he and his family would come under closer scrutiny, which was the last thing he needed right now.

Unfortunately, Amycus did raise an important point: Harry had to be careful to maintain his reputation within the castle. He had to manage dozens of misbehaving students per week, coming up with apt punishments for their transgressions. Harry usually defaulted to the easiest solution – making them write lines – but knew that wouldn't actually deter anyone from acting out. If the price for standing up against bigotry was merely a cramped hand once a week, many students – especially the Gryffindors – would take the gambit every time.

It had been a while since he kept tabs on the goings-on in the castle. A few prefects had reported students out after curfew in recent weeks, but nothing to suggest there was any organized student activity happening under his nose. Was it possible his warning to Ginny Weasley had successfully deterred her? Had the illegal student defense club been disbanded? He hoped that was the case, but privately feared it had not.

So he spent a few hours every night checking the Marauder's Map, looking out for any suspicious student activity. Aside from a few student couples meeting up after curfew from different Houses, Harry did not see anything untoward that was cause for concern. He was about to give up his search until one Wednesday night, when he unfortunately found what he was looking for.

It began with just a pair of students: Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones, sneaking out of the Hufflepuff Common Room just after curfew. Normally Harry would have written it off as an isolated incident, but then he spotted another pair: Seamus Finnigan and Parvati Patil, leaving Gryffindor Tower together. More students began to leave their common rooms in staggered pairs, disappearing one by one up the Astronomy Tower and into the Room of Requirement.

Bloody hell, Harry thought with an internal groan. I thought I'd put an end to this. He kept an eye on the area for the rest of the night, waiting for the ringleader to emerge. He hated to have to come down hard on Ginny again, but clearly she hadn't responded well to verbal threats. He would have to enact a more severe punishment to make her see reason.

Eventually the students began to disappear in pairs back to their respective common rooms. Harry knew Ginny would be the last to emerge, and waited until her name re-appeared on the Map before standing to cut her off en route to Gryffindor Tower. But then, one final name appeared, just behind Ginny, causing Harry to freeze in his tracks.

Lily Evans.

What was his mother doing in the Room of Requirement? Was she aware of the student movement brewing in their midst? Was she...leading the movement herself? Harry felt a knot growing inside his stomach as he watched his mother's dot wind through the castle and eventually arrive back at her quarters. He knew now who he really needed to talk to, and it wasn't Ginny.

Harry left his dorm and made his way through the castle towards the dungeons. He encountered nobody on his journey, aside from Peeves, whom he had to yell at for attempting to flood the boy's bathroom on the second floor. He arrived at his mother's quarters and knocked firmly on the door, already dreading this conversation.

Lily answered after a moment, eyes widening at the sight of him. "Harry!" she breathed, looking out into the hallway in fear. "You shouldn't be here."

"We need to talk," said Harry. "We can do it out here, or in private."

Lily looked nervous, but she nodded, opening the door to allow her son entry before shutting them inside. It was the first time they had spoken together since last summer, as both had to maintain the guise that they were estranged. It made Harry's heart ache with sadness, and he could tell from the look in his mother's eyes that she felt the same.

"We shouldn't be talking," Lily said in an undertone. "Lockhart might check my memories."

"That so?" said Harry. "When's the last time he did that?"

Lily hesitated before answering. "It's been a few months," she admitted. "But he could decide to do it again at any moment."

"You sound awfully worried about him," Harry remarked. "And yet, you don't seem to care if he sees you leading an illegal student rebellion."

Lily froze at his words. "I don't know what you're talking about," she muttered.

"Yeah, you do," said Harry. "I'm not blind to what happens inside this castle, Mum."

"You shouldn't involve yourself in this, Harry," Lily warned. "No good will come of this."

"I agree," said Harry. "Which is why you shouldn't be involved in this either."

"What else am I meant to do?" said an exasperated Lily. "The students are afraid and vulnerable. They have no hope. At least I can give them the tools to survive when they get to the real world and have to fend for themselves."

"You'll be sent to Azkaban if you're caught," Harry pointed out. "Or worse."

"Yeah, well, so what if I am?" Lily said miserably. "I'll be no worse off than I am now. I feel like I'm just drifting slowly towards my death anyway, so why not try to make a difference before I'm silenced forever?"

Harry sympathized with his mother's position. She too was feeling hopeless, without direction or purpose in life. If she wasn't doing this, she might be back on the bottle, or worse.

"You wouldn't be the only person punished," said Harry. "Snape probably would too, leaving this place to the mercy of the Carrows. And me and Dahlia would suffer as well."

"That's why I'm trying to keep you out of it!" Lily lamented. "I've kept my distance from you two so you won't suffer the same fate as me! All I want is for you and your sister to make it through this war alive. So please, just leave me be so I'm the only person affected!"

Harry saw the pained look on his mother's face, trying to push him away despite not wanting to. He drew closer and wrapped Lily in a hug; she resisted at first, standing stiffly in place, before relenting and clinging to him tightly.

"You're my mother," Harry said softly. "I'll never abandon you, no matter what anyone says. We're all getting through this together. So please, don't give up hope, and don't try to fall on the sword for us."

Lily broke down, holding onto Harry tight as she sobbed quietly into his shoulder. The roles had been reversed...where once Harry had relied on his mother for comfort, now he was the comforter, calming her down and reassuring her everything was alright. He had not forgotten the sacrifice Lily had made for him in his prior timeline, and would gladly return the favor in this one as many times as it took.

Eventually Lily calmed down, and Harry helped her to sit on the bed. "I don't know if I can stop it," Lily admitted quietly. "I've tried to tell Ginny Weasley to stop meeting so often, but she won't be deterred."

"Keep trying," Harry urged her. "If a Slytherin prefect catches you next time, or one of the Carrows, it will be a disaster."

"I know," Lily nodded forlornly. "But she's scared to death. Her brother Ron hasn't been heard from in months, and Fred and George are under constant investigation by the Ministry. She feels like she might lose her family at any moment, and doesn't want to go down without a fight."

Harry nodded in silent understanding. He couldn't fault Ginny for feeling this way, especially given that she was due to wed Amycus Carrow at the end of the term. He wished he could relay what he knew about Ron, Fred and George, could explain his schemes with the resistance movement to overthrow Voldemort's regime, but he couldn't. The threat of Lockhart still loomed large, and he had to be careful what he said.

"Do what you can for her," said Harry. "But try to discourage this from going on much further. The Carrows are getting suspicious, and I can't protect them for long."

Lily nodded grimly. Harry squeezed her hand affectionately before standing to leave. There wasn't much more to be said; they both stood looking at one another, each wishing there was more they could say, more they could do to get out of this grim situation.

"I love you, Mum," said Harry.

"Love you too, Harry," Lily smiled sadly. "Please be careful."

"I will," said Harry. And he returned to his dorm, hoping his mother would be able to talk some sense into Ginny. The teen clearly sympathized more with Lily than the rest of the Potter clan – perhaps for the precise reason that she wasn't in the Potter clan any longer. He didn't know how else to deter the headstrong girl, and he couldn't spend all his time policing every student move within the castle...he had a much larger agenda to attend to.

He had spent the past few weeks poring over Snape's notes, deducing who the best target would be for his first precision strike. He wanted to pick somebody with actual importance to Voldemort's operations, but not someone who would be difficult to overpower. He'd love to go after Lockhart, but the man resided at Malfoy Manor which was too well-fortified. Likewise, the Lestrange brothers were an enticing option, but knew he needed a plan in place to access their vault before ending that bloodline.

He'd finally settled on a name to go after first: Barty Crouch Jr. The man was responsible for keeping Voldemort up to date on Britain's underground, keeping tabs on Knockturn Alley and all comings and goings on the Isles. Harry knew the time would soon come when troops would need to flood into Britain to prepare for battle. He hoped to keep Voldemort in the dark about such movements until it was too late.

More importantly, according to Snape's notes, Crouch lived alone, at his childhood home – the home his father had vacated when he fled to the continent. He was one of the most front-facing Death Eaters, working most days in the Ministry alongside James Potter, flaunting his new status atop Voldemort's regime. Snape had commented that Crouch had grown 'lazy and complacent' with his newfound power...Harry certainly hoped that was the case.

Harry also had personal reasons to want the man dead. He had tried to kill Harry when he was just fourteen years old, at the Quidditch World Cup, promising to 'make him suffer'. He had also been the one to try to recruit Harry at the Spiked Chalice last year, demonstrating an arrogance and lack of morality that sickened Harry. Not to mention the man's role in what happened to Harry's Evans grandparents all those years ago...he would feel no remorse in taking Crouch's life.

He shared his plans with Fleur via enchanted diary to gather her input. Be very thorough before committing to anything, she advised him. Leave no room for error. Harry promised he would, but he felt confident that his plan would work. With luck, Barty would be caught completely unawares and Harry could be in and out in a matter of minutes.

But he did intend to plan meticulously, so one quiet afternoon, he snuck off to the alcove and Apparated to North Norfolk, where the Crouch family home resided. He landed roughly half a mile from the address Snape indicated he lived – it was a quiet neighborhood, and Harry wanted to scope out the surrounding area while also watching out for any ward protections Barty might have around his property.

The home in question was situated off the main road a bit, down a winding dirt path and nestled in a grove of trees. The nearest house was at least a hundred yards down the lane...perfect, as Harry would not have to worry about any nosy neighbors spying on his operation. He circled around to the back of the property and slowly approached the home, hidden beneath a Disillusionment Charm, probing the air with his senses for any wards standing in his way.

He didn't encounter any until he got roughly fifteen feet away from the house: a handful of basic enchantments, including a Detection Ward and a Caterwauling Charm for intruders. Harry didn't want to tear down the wards entirely...doing so would no doubt tip Barty off that something was awry. So instead, Harry carefully manipulated the wards to create a small pocket for him to slip through undetected. He then settled into some shrubbery along the eastern wall for what could be a long wait.

"Hominem revelio," Harry whispered. The spell flared across the grounds, giving him no feedback...nobody was home. That was to be expected – Barty lived alone, and was likely still at work at the Ministry. Harry altered the spell slightly to leave it lingering over the house...it would update him every time the number of humans present changed, in case Barty received any visitors via Floo or other methods Harry could not see. No reason to leave anything up to chance.

Harry remained hidden from sight for a long while, hoping he would not have to wait long. Fortunately, he did not. At five minutes past five o'clock, he heard a small pop, and Barty Crouch appeared down the lane, striding purposefully towards the house. This made sense...Snape's dossier indicated that Barty was a man of routine, rarely deviating from his set schedule. Barty entered the cottage, unaware of the presence lurking nearby, and shut himself in.

Now's your chance, the Elder Wand whispered giddily. He's alone and unaware. You can take him out and go before anyone notices.

But Harry intended to be methodical and careful. He would wait here for a few hours every day, studying the man's routine, waiting to see if any unexpected developments arose. The last thing he wanted was to enter the house to find Voldemort joining the man for dinner, or a cadre of guests he would have to take out to maintain his cover.

Luckily, it seemed not to be an issue, as Harry detected no changes in the house for the coming hours. Barty had declined to take a wife at the Minister's Ball last winter, preferring to sample the Knockturn Alley nightlife according to Snape's notes. Harry's charm detected only one occupant of the house for the duration of the evening. He even mustered the courage to peer in through a window, seeing Barty enjoying a meal alone at the dining room table, studying a pile of documents as he ate.

Barty eventually Apparated away from the cottage shortly after nightfall, presumably to check in with his informants in Knockturn. Harry did not linger, slipping back through the wards and Apparating back to Hogwarts. He would return twice more that week, just to ensure that the man's routine remained the same throughout the week. If three days passed with no visible changes, he would strike on the fourth day.

Days two and three passed without significant incident. Barty arrived home at nearly the exact same time every day, ate dinner, then left for Knockturn Alley roughly two hours later. He never took visitors, never used the Floo to call others, and didn't appear to receive any owls in this window of time...a creature of habit indeed.

Tomorrow is the day, then, Harry thought as Barty Apparated to Knockturn once again. I'll let him get comfortable, then take him out quick. His stomach turned a bit at the thought of actually doing the deed, but he knew it was for a worthy cause. The world would be a better place once he completed his task...he just had to grit his teeth and get it over with.

Harry Apparated back to the one-eyed witch's passageway, pausing just outside the secret entrance to pull out the Marauder's Map. He activated it, checking to ensure the coast was clear as he always did. Snape was in his office, and the Carrows were in their respective quarters. The only prefects on patrol were a pair of fifth-year Hufflepuffs on the opposite side of the castle. His path to his dorm was clear.

Then, his eyes landed on a pair of names, and his heart stopped. Gellert Grindelwald was in his classroom. And Luna Lovegood was alone with him.

Bloody hell, Harry thought in a panic. I've forgotten to warn Luna.

He burst from the passageway, sprinting towards the Divination classroom. Had Grindelwald figured out that he and Luna were close? Could he be viewing her memories at that very second, figuring out more of Harry's secrets? Was he torturing her for information, for insights into his motives and weaknesses? The possibilities raced through his mind, each more horrifying than the last.

Harry arrived at the classroom and burst through the door, Elder Wand at the ready. But the gruesome scene he'd envisioned did not manifest itself. The classroom was alight with stars, floating benignly through the darkened sky. Luna sat at the center of it all, eyes wide with wonder, as Grindelwald knelt beside her, whispering quietly into her ear.

"Oh, hello, Harry!" Luna said brightly when she saw him. "What brings you here?"

Harry stared between her and Grindelwald. The older wizard gave Harry a knowing smirk, tilting his head in acknowledgment. And Harry did not miss the hungry look in the man's eye at the sight of the Elder Wand in his hand, which he quickly stowed away.

"What's going on in here?" Harry demanded.

"Professor Gorschev was just showing me some wonderful tricks to expand my mind!" Luna said. "He really is a wonderful teacher."

"You never told me you and Miss Lovegood were acquainted, Harry!" Grindelwald said with a voice of faux innocence. "She has a brilliant mind for the Great Beyond, you know. I have yet to meet another pupil so eager to learn how to broaden her senses and sharpen her Sight."

"Luna, Professor Flitwick is looking for you in his office," Harry lied. "I'm afraid it's urgent."

"Ah, how unlucky," Grindelwald tutted. He flicked his wand, and the stars disappeared as light rushed back into the classroom. "Perhaps we can continue our private tutoring another time, Miss Lovegood. I do enjoy our talks."

"Me too, Professor!" Luna beamed. "See you in class tomorrow?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Grindelwald smiled back. Luna stood and skipped from the classroom, leaving Harry alone with the man. It was the one situation Harry had hoped to avoid, but he could not let this slide.

"What's your angle?" Harry demanded. "Trying to get close to Luna so she'll tell you secrets about me?"

"Now now, Harry, not everything is about you," Grindelwald chided him lightly. He rose from his kneeling position, causing Harry to stiffen, but he merely hobbled over to a chair and sank into it with a heavy grunt. "I truly did not know the two of you were friends."

"Then what were you doing with her?" Harry demanded, still skeptical.

"My intentions were pure," Grindelwald said innocently, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. "I have long desired a protegee in the art of Sight, but never met one who was up to the task. Most Seers are not discovered until a later age, at which point their minds have grown too narrow-minded and withdrawn. To find such a sharp young mind as Luna's was quite the delightful surprise, and an unexpected bonus of my time here at Hogwarts."

Harry felt a sense of dread at this prospect. He'd long endeavored to keep Luna's Seer abilities a secret, worried that either Dumbledore or Voldemort might attempt to manipulate her for their own purposes. The fact that Grindelwald of all people was the person to discover her was the worst possible outcome, as he would know precisely how to use it to his advantage.

"Luna has had a traumatic upbringing," Harry said sternly. "She does not deserve to be used like this."

"Many Seers have suffered past traumas that unlocked their powers," Grindelwald said dismissively. "Luna is no exception. Rest assured, Harry, she is safe in my hands. I can help her reach her fullest potential like nobody else can."

"I'm not going to ask twice," Harry snarled, whipping out the Elder Wand again to point it threateningly at Grindelwald. "Stay away from her."

Grindelwald did not appear threatened in the slightest; if anything, his coy smile only grew wider. "Is the Deathstick whispering to you now?" he asked in an excited tone. "Is it telling you to strike me down where I stand? To eliminate the threat within your walls? You may try, but I promise it would be a mistake."

The Elder Wand was, in fact, screaming at the back of his mind to kill Grindelwald then and there. But Harry had grown used to the whispers, and had no troubles in pushing the murderous thoughts away. "Not today, Gellert," he muttered, stowing the Wand away. "But one day. If you hurt Luna, I'll make you suffer for it."

"As I have said, you have nothing to worry about with your friend," said Grindelwald. "She is a delight, and I hope to have her by my side for many fruitful years. We need not be enemies, Harry...as long as you stay out of my way, I will stay out of yours."

Harry knew that last part was a lie. Grindelwald wanted his wand back, and he was eventually going to come after Harry for it. The question was, did he speak honestly of Luna? Did he truly intend to take her under his wing and mold her as his protegee? Or was she simply a tool he would use to get to Harry before discarding her? He had no way of knowing for sure.

He swept from the room without another word, heading up to Flitwick's office to head off Luna. He found her wandering around the fourth floor, humming quietly to herself with a vague dreamy smile on her face.

"Sorry, Luna, I lied about Professor Flitwick," said Harry. "I just needed to get you out of there."

"That's okay!" Luna said brightly. "Is something the matter, Harry?"

"Actually, yes," said Harry. "You need to be careful around Professor Gorschev. He's not to be trusted."

"Why not?" Luna frowned. "Gellert would never cause me harm. He's been quite helpful for my development."

"I understand that, but he isn't who he—wait," Harry frowned. "Did you just call him Gellert?"

"Oh, yes," Luna smiled serenely. "He gave me his true name to gain my trust. Quite understandable why he must use a false name."

"So you know who he really is?" said Harry, perplexed. "And it doesn't concern you?"

"Not particularly," Luna shrugged. "I've heard the stories, of course. But I do not think I need to fear him. I just have a good feeling about him, you know?"

"Luna, he's extremely dangerous," Harry said gravely. "He's likely disguising his true nature to manipulate you."

"Oh, I know that," said Luna. "I can feel his desire for power. He wants something very badly, something only you can give him. But he's deeply afraid of you, even more than he is of Voldemort. He does not understand you, and he's desperate to learn all he can about you."

Harry stopped short at these words. He often forgot just how perceptive Luna could be...despite her air-headed demeanor, she could see things about people that nobody else could. Perhaps it was a side effect of her Seer abilities...as Dumbledore had once said of Grindelwald, 'Gellert has a way of seeing people for who they truly are.' Was Luna the same?

"Surely you must recognize that he intends to use you to get to me," Harry pointed out. "He's taking advantage of you, Luna."

"I know that," Luna shrugged. "But that makes him predictable, doesn't it? I can use him too, to improve my Sight. Gellert needs me too much to cause me any harm."

"Well...I'm glad you feel safe, Luna," Harry said nervously. "But you can see my concern, right? That he might manipulate you in ways that harm me and my family?"

"I do, Harry," said Luna, suddenly looking very serious and taking his hand reassuringly. "I would never do anything to hurt you. I just have a really strong feeling that I'm right where I need to be. You know what I mean?"

Harry did not know what she meant. How anyone could willingly submit themselves to the jaws of an apex predator like Grindelwald was beyond him. But Luna seemed confident, and she had never steered him wrong before. Besides, it could be useful to have someone close to Grindelwald, keeping tabs on him and informing Harry of his progress. He felt guilty even thinking that way, but maybe Luna had the same instinct and was willing to do her part to help with the war effort.

"Please be careful," Harry implored Luna, pulling her in for a hug. "I'd hate to see anyone get hurt because of me."

"That's what makes you such a wonderful person, Harry," said Luna. "Yet you fail to realize that we don't want to see you get hurt, either." And without another word, she pulled away from him, skipping down the corridor and out of sight.

Harry still hated the idea of his friend being so close to a madman. He brought it up with Fleur that evening, explaining the situation in their shared diary. If anything happens to Luna because of me, I'll never forgive myself, he wrote.

You do not give Luna enough credit, Fleur wrote back. I have told you many times: not all women are delicate flowers that need rescuing all the time. We can be quite capable when we want to be.

Maybe Luna isn't giving Grindelwald enough credit, Harry retorted. She's too young to have heard the worst of his crimes in the Great War. He could manipulate her easily.

Don't be so sure. As you said, he needs her, and she recognizes that. If anything, she might be able to manipulate him in return.

Harry hadn't considered that possibility. As dangerous as Grindelwald was, he was also at a disadvantage...he was magically weak, and needed information about Harry. If Luna was aware of that, maybe she could help to slow him down. He might read too much into her wild and outlandish theories, brought on by her upbringing with her father, and be led astray as a result. Luna was savvier than she let on...maybe he should trust her.

How has your reconnaissance gone? Fleur asked to change the subject. Do you feel confident that your plans for Crouch will work?

Yes, I think so, wrote Harry. I'm going to do it tomorrow.

So soon? Are you sure?

No use in delaying it. I'll come straight to Raven House once it's done.

Harry knew that putting off the operation would only make him second-guess himself. If he waited any longer, Crouch's routine might change, and he wanted to strike while the man's patterns were as predictable as possible. He had all the information he needed – now it was just a matter of executing the plan.

The following day, Harry attended his morning classes as usual, doing his best not to think about the terrible task he had set for himself that evening. He ate a light lunch and skipped his final class of the day...Professor Binns would never have noticed his absence anyway. Then, after returning to his dorm and changing into Shield apparel just in case, Harry Apparated back to the Crouch cottage.

He slipped through the ward boundary and perched in the bushes. His heart hammered as the gravity of the situation began to settle in his chest. I'm about to kill a man, Harry thought grimly. The previous two times he had taken a life, it had been spur of the moment – this time would be calculated and premeditated. A murder in cold blood. It made Harry queasy, and he was grateful he'd eaten light.

Harry checked his watch: 5:01 PM. Just a couple minutes until Barty arrived. Just a couple minutes until Harry had to muster the hatred necessary to cast the Killing Curse. He could use a less Dark curse to do the deed, like a Cutting Curse to the jugular, but he wanted it to be quick. He wanted it done – what did the nature of the curse truly matter if the result was the same?

5:05 PM. Still no sign of Barty. No matter...Barty sometimes deviated by a couple of minutes, perhaps waylaid by people seeking to talk to him in the Atrium. He would be here momentarily.

5:10 PM. Strange...he'd never been this late before. But still not cause for concern. Even the most regimented man might take an extra few minutes here and there to take care of things that might pop up. Still, it unsettled Harry to be wondering why he was so late.

5:20 PM. Now Harry started to grow nervous. Barty was definitely off schedule, throwing Harry's plans into peril. What was he doing? Was he stuck at the Ministry working on something? Would he be returning with guests? Harry began to second-guess himself, knowing he ought to abort the mission. Something was off, and he did not feel comfortable with such unknown variables complicating his mission.

But just as he was about to slip off and Apparate away, he heard the familiar pop to herald Barty's arrival. He strode down the lane as he did every other day, though perhaps looking surlier than usual. Harry studied the man carefully as he entered the cottage – aside from being twenty minutes late, nothing else seemed different.

Now Harry was conflicted. Part of him wanted to leave and try again another day. But it was Thursday, meaning he would have to wait several days to try again on a normal weekday. And he wasn't sure if he could muster the courage and energy to put himself through such emotional turmoil all over again. He was here now, and his charm indicated Barty was as alone as ever...he should just do the deed now and get it over with.

Harry waited a few minutes longer just to be sure. The charm told him no visitors were forthcoming, and the smell of cooking soon wafted from the windows. Whatever had delayed Barty did not seem to have radically changed his evening plans. So Harry took a deep breath to steady himself and carefully climbed from the bushes to execute his plan.

The front door clicked open with a silent Unlocking Charm, and Harry slid into the entryway, still disguised beneath a Disillusionment Charm and half a dozen other concealers. He crept forward, listening for any sign of disturbance. The cottage was simple, and looked to have been barely re-decorated since the days before Crouch Senior had fled the home. Clearly Barty did not spend a lot of time here, except to eat meals and sleep.

Harry rounded a corner, and there he saw the man, sitting in his usual chair, munching on a plate of food while consulting his Ministry documents. Harry's heart thumped louder and louder as he inched forward, preparing to do the unthinkable. The Elder Wand practically sang for joy as Harry drew it, the promise of murder so imminent.

Just get it over with, Harry told himself, fighting to contain his emotions as he leveled the wand at the back of Barty's head. He's dead already. Just do it quickly, then you can leave and it will all be over. He took a slow, steadying breath before opening his mouth to say the dreaded curse…

"Master Barty?" an unexpected voice called out. "I did not realize we were expecting a visitor!"

Both Harry and Barty froze at these words. Winky the house-elf had appeared from the kitchen, wearing a smock and carrying a knife and tongs. The elf was staring straight at Harry, as though able to see him despite the enchantments upon him...were elves able to see through such magic? Harry cursed himself for overlooking the possibility of a house-elf...his Human-Revealing Charm would not have alerted him to such a presence.

We're compromised, the Elder Wand whispered urgently in his ear. Act now, before it's too late!

"Avada Kedav—" said Harry, but Barty acted faster. He twirled his wand, causing the kitchen table to upend itself and fly through the air towards Harry. He was forced to abandon his curse and dive aside, the table splintering against the nearby banister. Harry scrambled back to his feet and raised his wand once more, only to be met with a sofa hurtling towards him, crashing into him and slamming him into the opposite wall.

Harry groaned and fought to free himself from the splintered debris. As he did so, Winky began to wail loudly in despair. "Master Barty, Master Barty, what is happening?" Winky cried.

"Quiet, Winky!" Barty growled. "We have an intruder!"

Harry peeked over the destroyed sofa just in time to see Barty begin to roll up his sleeve to expose his Dark Mark. He quickly Banished a nearby chair towards the man, knocking him off-balance to the ground.

"What should Winky do, Master Barty?" said Winky.

Harry tried to hit Barty with a Stunner while he was off-balance, but the man managed to block it. With a mighty roar, he swiped his wand down, causing the ceiling to cave in over Harry's head. The Elder Wand flicked upwards to erect a Shield Charm in time to prevent him being crushed, but Harry was left pinned beneath the weight.

"Bloody attack him, you stupid elf!" Barty snapped. "Make yourself useful for once!" He tried once more to summon Voldemort via the Dark Mark, only to be forced to take cover behind an upturned dresser as Harry fired another Stunner through the debris.

Winky looked conflicted by her master's command. "House-elves is not supposed to harm humans," she muttered. "It is not right."

"Did I ask for a bloody morality lesson?" Barty roared. "Kill this bastard, that's an order!"

Winky's eye twitched, as though unwilling to comply. Harry knew that, according to the new Ministry laws, she could in theory refuse such an unlawful order. But was it truly unlawful? Was it a justified killing if it was in defense of her master? Winky clearly seemed to be pondering that very question.

But Harry would not give Winky the time to consider it. He aimed his wand through the debris at the tiny elf and whispered, "Imperio."

Winky's expression went blank. There was a clatter as she dropped the tools she was holding in her hands.

"What are you waiting for, elf?" Barty demanded. "I said, kill that son of a—aaauughhhh!"

There was a BANG and a crashing of furniture as Winky sent a blast of magic toward her master. Harry peered over the couch to see Barty fly head over heels through the air, slamming into the opposite wall. Barty righted himself quickly, turning towards Harry just as he vaulted over the back of the shattered sofa. They aimed their wands at each other at the same time, but Harry's reflexes were quicker:

"Avada Kedavra!"

Barty's eyes went wide a split second before the Killing Curse slammed into him. He toppled over backwards, landing on a glass coffee table and shattering it with an almighty CRASH. When the dust settled, Harry strode forward, wand trained upon the man, but the threat was over. Barty Crouch Jr. lay on the ground, eyes fixed unseeing to the ceiling, dead at last.

Harry stood frozen for a moment in the shock of the moment. Then, Winky's pitiful voice interrupted his thoughts: "M-Master Barty?"

Winky rushed past Harry, the Imperius Curse lifted, to check on her master. She gave a great shuddering gasp, cradling Barty's head in her hands.

"Y-you've killed him!" Winky bawled. "You've killed my Barty! How could you?"

Harry said nothing, backing away from the scene. He had not counted on the presence of the elf tonight, and was not sure what to do next. Should he let Winky go? Wipe her memory? Or make sure there were no loose ends?

Kill the elf, the Elder Wand whispered in his ear. She will tell the Ministry and the Dark Lord what she saw. They will put the pieces together to find you.

Winky hasn't done anything wrong, Harry fought back against the voices. She had no choice in the matter of who she worked for.

Plenty of innocents must die in war, the Wand reasoned. She is merely collateral damage towards a nobler goal.

Harry wrestled with these thoughts in silence, unable to make up his mind. Murdering Winky felt different – it felt wrong. But maybe the Elder Wand had a point: he had to commit some minor wrongs in pursuit of the greater good. The greater good...once again the image of Dumbledore sprang to mind, and Harry had to wonder if he was any better than the old man in his schemes.

But before he could even consider raising his wand against Winky, the elf had a sudden change of demeanor. She dropped Barty's head and looked down at her own two hands. "This is Winky's fault," the elf said forlornly. "Winky has betrayed her master."

"You had no other choice," Harry said, unable to stop himself.

"Winky is a bad elf," Winky wailed, shuffling across the room back towards the kitchen. "Winky must punish herself."

"Winky, wait," said Harry, as the elf knelt down to pick something up. "You don't have t— Winky, no!"

Harry watched in horror as Winky picked up the heavy kitchen knife she'd dropped earlier. She plunged it deep into her own chest, blood spurting out before Harry could do anything to stop it. Winky dropped to her knees and began to tremble terribly from the mortal wound. Harry rushed to the elf's side and cradled her in his arms, but it was too late. Within seconds the elf keeled over, slumped face-down on the ground, dead from her self-inflicted wound.

Harry backed away from the scene, fighting the urge to violently vomit on the carpet. The room was deathly quiet now, as three souls had quickly dwindled down to just one. It wasn't supposed to be like this, Harry thought, sick to his stomach. This is madness.

This is war, the Elder Wand said gleefully. Death comes for all in the end. Be glad the elf made the job easier for you.

Harry knew instinctively that the Wand was right. Winky could not have been allowed to live to tell her tale. But it did not soothe the ache in his heart, watching the dead elf twitch quietly in a pool of its own blood. Winky did not deserve such a gruesome fate. And it was Harry's own fault for hesitating, for using Winky for his own nefarious goals.

Time to go, a voice reminded Harry. He snapped out of his stupor and hurried from the house to Apparate away. He paused outside the front door, stricken by a thought. The job was not yet done. He needed to make sure Voldemort knew that what happened here tonight was no accident. That he would not go seeking another target beyond the one he already had in mind.

Harry drew his wand and pointed it in the air, whispering, "Morsmordre." A green specter appeared in the air – a skull with a snake wriggling through its mouth, suspending in air over Barty's house. But Harry added his own modification to the Mark, creating a glittering green lightning bolt, splitting the skull violently in two. I'm coming for you, Tom, Harry thought bitterly, hoping the corrupted Mark would strike fear in the man's soul, or what was left of it.

His work complete, Harry Apparated back to Raven House. Fleur was waiting for him there, standing from the couch and approaching him quickly. "'Ow did it go?" she asked. "Is Crouch dead?"

Harry tried and failed to speak a few times. Fleur studied his face, silently asking what was wrong. But Harry could not bring himself to say. He sank to the ground, collapsing in a fit of silent sobs as the weight of what he had done finally overcame him.

Fleur did not ask him any more questions. She merely sat with him, cradling his head in her lap and stroking his hair softly until he calmed down. He finally managed to choke out what had happened, and Fleur gave a quiet sigh of lament when she heard the fate of Winky.

"Ze poor thing," Fleur muttered. "Such a cruel fate for such a wonderful creature."

"Am I a monster?" Harry asked aloud. He'd been pondering the question in his head for a while now, and needed to know the truth.

"A monster feels no remorse for 'is own actions," Fleur said gently. "You will never be a monster so long as you always 'ave a conscience. Do not beat yourself up over this...eet was an unlucky accident."

Harry nodded silently, relief flooding through him. Fleur did not think he was a monster. That was reassuring enough to let him calm down from his brief moment of panic. He slowly sat up, sitting quietly beside Fleur, contemplating the night's events. She sat beside him, saying nothing but giving him quiet reassurance all the same.

Then, Harry flinched as his Dark Mark burned angrily upon his arm. "Voldemort knows," he muttered. "He must have found the body."

"Does 'e know it was you?" Fleur asked worriedly.

"I don't think so," Harry muttered. He was getting a better sense of Voldemort's emotions now, and this felt like a generalized rage, not one directed at him. "I'd best get back to Hogwarts and meet with Snape before anyone notices I'm gone."

Fleur helped Harry to his feet, casting a Cleaning Charm on his face for good measure. "Good luck," she said, giving him a tight hug. "And be safe."

"I will," Harry nodded. "And thank you for...well, you know." Fleur nodded in understanding, as Harry Apparated away.

He re-emerged in the alcove just outside Snape's office, rounding the corner towards the stone gargoyle. He nearly ran directly into Draco Malfoy, who was coming down the hall from the opposite direction. Draco gave Harry an annoyed glare as they approached the Headmaster's Office...luckily, he didn't appear to have noticed where Harry was coming from.

They ascended the spiral stairs quickly and into Snape's office. The Headmaster wordlessly extended both his arms for the two teens to take, and they Apparated away.

Harry's modified Dark Mark still glittered over Barty Crouch's home as they arrived. Death Eaters were popping into existence all around the front of the property, as Voldemort silently stalked in front of the house, looking murderous. Barty's body had been dragged out onto the front lawn, causing the Dark Lord's followers to murmur quietly in surprise.

"Who knew of this?" Voldemort demanded. "How did this escape my notice?"

Nobody said a word. Voldemort glared furiously up at his own corrupted Dark Mark, mocking him from above. "Longbottom," he muttered angrily, telling Harry that his ploy had been successful.

"It should not be possible, my Lord," came Lockhart's voice, as the hooded Death Eater came forward and dropped to one knee before Voldemort. "Crouch was paranoid and meticulous...nobody should have been able to get the jump on him—"

"And yet, a mere teenager did!" Voldemort roared. "This is unacceptable!"

Voldemort began to stalk around the semi-circle, red eyes boring into each of his followers one by one, as if accusing them of being complicit somehow. Harry Occluded his thoughts as Voldemort approached, hoping the man could not sense his nerves. Winky's shocking death may have helped him in that moment, as Harry felt numb and distant as Voldemort leered at him face to face. Fortunately, the Dark Lord could detect no treachery, moving on quickly down the row.

"I want the Longbottom boy found now!" Voldemort screamed. "All other priorities are now secondary. Bring me the boy alive, and I will flay the skin from his bones!"

With a roar of anger, Voldemort unleashed a torrent of Fiendfyre, engulfing the house in cursed flames. Death Eaters leapt backwards away from the scorching heat; many even began to Apparate away. "Come, quickly," Snape whispered to Harry and Draco; they each took his arms, and Snape whisked them away back to his office.

They stood in silence for a moment, staring at one another. Both Snape and Draco seemed to be eyeing Harry curiously...or maybe that was just his paranoia playing tricks on his mind.

"Return to your dorms," Snape instructed them both. "Keep your heads down. Tell no one of what happened tonight."

Harry and Draco did not need telling twice. They scurried from the office, heading to their respective dorms. Daphne was studying at her desk when Harry entered; she looked up in alarm as he approached.

"Blimey, Harry, are you alright?" she asked. "You don't look so good."

But Harry ignored her, ducking under the divider to his side of the room. He kicked off his shoes and robes before crawling into bed without another word. He curled up under the sheets, Winky's death replaying itself over and over in his mind, trembling silently until he eventually fell into a fitful sleep.