▬▬▬▬ CHAPTER EIGHTEEN ▬▬▬▬

TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS IN THE AUTHOR'S NOTE, PLS READ THEM ONCE YOU'RE DONE WITH THE CHAPTER!!!

IT WAS ANOTHER BORING HERBOLOGY lesson in the middle of March. Esmerelda hadn't slept well the previous night since she spent that time studying for an exam on history of magic and since she had just finished it, she felt ready to drop dead.

Professor Sprout had already set up a bunch of potted plants on the table when they walked in. They kind of reminded her bonsai plants, except these ones were green, spiky, full of sharp teeth, and moved around as if to try and grab nearby prey.

She was just about to nod off when the name of plant was announced: "Venomous Tentacula! Make sure to keep at least three feet away from them until I get you all the proper tools and—Oh! What did I just say Mr. Finnegan? Three feet away! Go on now!"

While Professor Sprout busied herself with scolding Seamus, Esmerelda was immediately startled awake.

Venomous Tentacula. She hadn't heard that name in years since she bought Ethan that poisoned knife from Borgin and Burkes.

She didn't know why, but something about hearing that familiar name made her anxious, as if this was a lesson she should pay extra attention to. Ethan would never use the knife she had gifted him against her, but that didn't mean he wouldn't hesitate to use it on anyone else.

"Put on your gear everyone, then you may approach the tables," with a wave of Professor Sprout's wand, uniforms appeared on the floor in front of them. A thick apron, elbow-high gardening gloves that were probably made from strong dragon hide, and a helmet for protection.

They slipped on the protective gear and carefully approached the tables full of snapping venomous tentacula.

"Venomous tentacula expels venom from it's shoots and its spikes are deadly, but the gear you're wearing should protect most of your body. I apologize if the gloves aren't long enough," the professor explained.

Esmerelda glanced down and spotted a few inches of bare skin between the end of the dragon hide gloves and the tee-shirt she was wearing.

"While the plant's bite is deadly and highly venomous, the juice of the plant is a less lethal version of it. Don't get cocky though, you would still experience pure agony, the only difference is that it won't kill you, so you'll feel that pain until you get a cure." At hearing that, Ron immediately retracted his gloved hand away from the potted plant.

"Does anyone know what can cure a bite from a venomous tentacula?"

Hermione, naturally, raised her hand. "A bezoar," she answered. "Which is a stone taken from a goat's stomach. It'll save you from most poisons."

Professor Sprout nodded approvingly. "Exactly. I've got some bezoars with me right now. I don't have a lot for the whole class so please try not to get attacked. If you do get attacked, I'll allow you to swear as loud as you can so I can get to you in time. Don't bother raising your hand if it happens, you'll be in too much pain to function right, so just scream."

Esmerelda couldn't help but shrink a little when she heard how dangerous the venom was. Now she was beginning to regret giving Ethan that poisoned knife for Christmas...

Oops...

"Wands out now," Professor Sprout instructed. "Use the severing charm to sever the plant's vines, that way it would be easier for us to get it's juices. Make sure to drain it all in the phials I've provided you with. Now get to it!"

Esmerelda headed over towards Harry, Hermione, and Ron to work alongside them.

"You guys available tomorrow at two o'clock?" She asked them suddenly.

Harry looked at her awkwardly. "Uh, well we were planning to go to Hogsmeade that day—"

"—Oh good!" She said brightly as she effortlessly severed off her plants vines before moving on to the next one. "Uncle Steve's staying over at the Hog's Head Inn and he wants to speak to you guys."

His eyes bulged out. "What?! Wha—why didn't he tell me? He can't come here, what if he gets spotted or—!"

"—Harry, honey," she sighed, not taking her eyes off the plant that was now fighting for it's life before she dismembered that one too. Once it was limbless, she turned to give him a reassuring look. "This is why he didn't tell you, because he knew you would just freak out and tell him to stay away. Everything will be fine, okay? Also, have you not seen the makeover my friends gave him? He looks nothing like his mugshots. Nobody's going to look at him and say 'hey, he's that crazy escapee!'. Instead, they'd look at him and wonder what his phone number is, which is just gross 'cause he's, like, middle-aged."

"Uh, I'm pretty sure he's in his thirties," Ron pointed out.

"That's middle-aged to me," she shrugged. "Anyways, whatever he wants to speak to you about is probably really important, so you should go speak to him tomorrow."

Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Alright," he said sulkily. "I guess there's no point in changing his mind."

"It's good that Steve is coming here," Hermione nodded. "We could certainly use his help on things. Maybe he could help us figure out who put your name in the goblet."

"I don't need any help," Harry said stubbornly. "Shouldn't you be the one worrying?" He asked Esmerelda, who turned away from the plant she was severing to give him a weird look full of confusion. "Don't you remember my dream? Someone's out to kill you!"

"Oh yeah," she blinked owlishly. "Well, so far, there hasn't been any attempts on my life, so maybe you mixed me up with yourself. You're the one who was picked to be champion."

As if the Fates hated her, Hermione suddenly cried out, "Essie, watch out!"

She whipped her head forward, but it was too late. The plant she had been in the middle of severing, had lashed out at her like a whip. It's toothy vine slapped itself onto her arm. A good portion of it was protected thanks to glove, but one of the spikes cut into the small bit of exposed skin she had.

She just barely managed to gasp in shock before an overwhelming sensation of pain coursed through her body. "FUCK!" She cursed out loud, collapsing to her knees. Her vision was white-hot with pain, but she could feel two pairs of arm drag her away from the table and heard Hermione's frantic call for the professor.

As she thrashed on the floor, she caught sight of her upper arm. There was a horrible patch of purple on her usually pale flesh.

"Get her to sit up!" She heard the professor shout.

Someone—either Harry or Ron—had her propped up against the wall of the greenhouse. A shadow fell over as Professor Sprout finally made it. In her arms was a small wooden crate full of bezoars. She grabbed one of them and practically stuffed it into her mouth.

"Hurry and take a bite!" Professor Sprout urged.

Esmerelda didn't hesitate to clamp her jaws over the hard thing. There were spots dancing in her vision now and she felt sick, like she was going to throw up. This was worse than that time she had been food poisoned at the end of the Yule Ball. She honestly felt like she was seconds away from death.

Her teeth ripped into the bezoar and she chewed onto it desperately before swallowing. It took a while, but several seconds later, the burning sensation finally passed.

"Urgh..." She groaned, letting her body slump against the wall. Her face and limbs were slick with sweat. Weakly, she turned to the side to see the purple on her skin turn back to its natural color. Thank gods for that. She didn't want to stay purple forever.

Her body was still shaking from the aftershock of the poison, but once she managed to calm down, she immediately thought: What the FUCK was I thinking buying Ethan that knife?!

"Are you alright now?" Professor Sprout asked as she crouched before her.

Wordlessly, Esmerelda managed a nod.

The worried look on the elder woman's face was replaced with relief. "Good. Gave us quite the scare. Why don't you go sit at one of the stools for the rest of the period? You ought to get some rest... unless you need to be sent to the hospital wing?"

"No thanks..." She murmured, forcing herself up to her feet. Ron and Harry helped steady her before one of them brought one of the stools for her to sit.

"Thanks guys," she told them sluggishly before plopping down on the chair.

The rest of the class resumed, with only two other kids getting attacked by the plant and joining her at the sidelines. When class ended, she didn't leave with the rest of the students and instead walked up to Professor Sprout, eyeing the crate of bezoars.

"Do you need anything?" Professor Sprout rose a brow. "You're not still in pain, are you?"

"No, I'm fine now. But... do you, um, mind if I keep one of the bezoars?" She asked sweetly.

Professor Sprout wasn't fooled. "And why would you need one?"

"Well, uh, I might have... bought an enchanted knife that's laced with venomous tentacula juice and gave it to someone who may or may not use it to go on a killing spree."

Professor Sprout stared at her. "...You did what?"

She sighed. "I was twelve, okay? And I just wanted to get someone a nice Christmas present—"

"—A nice Christmas present?! Who on earth sold you a poisoned knife?!" She freaked out.

"The creepy old dude at Borgin and Burkes."

Professor Sprout blanched. "You went to Knockturn Alley?!"

She shrugged.

Professor Sprout shoved the whole crate into her arms. "Take them. Just... take them."

Esmerelda lit up. "Thanks, professor!"

Professor Sprout watched as she practically skipped out of the room.

The poor woman shook her head. "Everything about that girl concerns me..."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

They found Sirius lounging about in the lobby of the Hog's Head Inn, shamelessly flirting with a couple. His suave demeanor immediately turned to horror when he saw Esmerelda's unamused face and Harry's gawking one.

He straightened up like he was preparing to have a meeting with the pope and quickly shooed the couple away. The man and woman were confused, but left anyways, and the four kids took up the remaining seats.

"Seriously?" Esmerelda said dryly. "Were you hoping to join their thruple or something?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he smiled forcefully, unable to face Harry's look of horror. He held up a platter of food. "So, uh, chicken wings anyone?"

"Oooh," Ron was the first to snatch one. As he sat back to eat, he quickly noticed the pile of newspapers on the table and flipped it over so the others could read it.

Esmerelda struggled to read the two Daily Prophets. The first one talked about the 'mystery illness of Bartemius Crouch' and the second one was about a missing Ministry Witch.

"They're making it sound like he's dying," Harry said slowly, having been reading the one about Barty Crouch. "But he can't be that ill if he managed to get up here..."

"My brother's Crouch's personal assistant," Ron informed Sirius. "He says Crouch is suffering from overwork."

"Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close," Harry added, his eyes never leaving the article. "The night my name came out of the goblet..."

"Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?" Hermione said, an edge to her voice. "I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now—bet he feels the difference now she's not there to look after him."

"Hermione's obsessed with house-elves," Ron muttered to Sirius, casting Hermione a dark look.

Sirius, however, looked interested. "Crouch sacked his house-elf?"

"Yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup," Harry replied.

He looked astonished. "I wasn't even aware she was there at the Top Box with us!"

"That's because you were too busy screaming in everyone's ears," Esmerelda muttered, giving him a flat look which he grinned sheepishly at.

Harry then launched into the story of how he, Ron, and Hermione got separated from the rest of the Weasleys, Winky being found with Harry's wand clutched in her hand, and Mr. Crouch's fury.

"Let me get this straight," he said, pointing a fresh new chicken leg at him. "You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?"

"Right," said Harry, Ron, and Hermione together.

"But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?"

"No," Harry answered. "I think he said he'd been too busy."

"He was there after the match though," Esmerelda remembered. "It was after Draco and I ran into you three at the forest. Then we saw each other again at the clearing. That was when Crouch accused me of conjuring the Dark Mark since I'm 'Sirius' daughter'."

Sirius snorted at the last part before falling into a deep silence. He chomped on the chicken leg, swallowed, then spoke up: "Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?"

"Erm..." Harry thought hard. "No, I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars. Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?"

"It's possible."

"Winky didn't steal that wand!" Hermione insisted.

"The elf wasn't the only one in that box," Sirius told her. "Who else was sitting behind you? I know the Bulgarian Minister was there, and Fudge, and... wasn't there some other Minister too?"

"Maxence Rosier," Esmerelda informed. "The French minister. He was there with his family."

"Rosier?" Sirius blanched. "That dark family? I can't believe France allowed one of their lot to be the leader..."

"They're innocent," she defended.

Well, not really, but they were innocent when it came to them being a 'dark family'.

"And how do you know that?"

"Um, well... I'm kind of friends with the youngest one." She admitted, waiting for him to blow up.

His jaw dropped. He looked scandalized.

"Are you talking about Étienne?" Hermione chimed in. "He seems like a nice person, Sirius."

He turned to her. "You know him too?! Hermione, the Rosiers are a family almost as dark as ours!" He motioned to Esmerelda and himself. "They were Voldemort's supporters since day one! One of their own even supported Grindelwald!"

"Étienne says his family isn't like that. Not anymore at least," Esmerelda said desperately, wanting to defend her slightly psychotic half-brother. "His father, Lazare, used to be like that, but he changed and he made sure to teach his kids that every witch and wizard are equal no matter the bloodline. The only person who still obsesses over blood purity is his wife, Géraldine."

Sirius was still miffed, but he finally let it go. "You better be right," he grumbled. "Now who else was there?"

"The Malfoys..." Harry trailed off.

"The Malfoys!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, and a few people glanced over at their table. "I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!"

"Anyone else?" Sirius asked.

"No one," Harry answered.

"Yes, there was, there was Ludo Bagman," Hermione reminded him.

"Oh yeah..."

"I don't know anything about Bagman except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps," Sirius mentioned. "What's he like?"

"He's okay," Harry shrugged. "He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."

"Isn't that cheating?" Esmerelda asked. "Since he's one of the judges and all?"

"I guess... but he says he's taken a liking to me."

"Hmm," Sirius hummed thoughtfully.

"We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared," Hermione told Sirius. "Remember?" She said to Harry and Ron.

"Yeah, but he didn't stay in the forest, did he?" Ron said. "The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite."

"How d'you know?" Hermione shot back. "How d'you know where he Disapparated to?"

"Come off it," Ron said incredulously. "Are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?"

But Hermione was stubborn. "It's more likely he did it than Winky."

Esmerelda watched them argue back and forth, exchanging looks with an exhaustive Harry and sipping her hot cocoa.

"Told you," Ron said, looking meaningfully at Sirius. "Told you she's obsessed with house—"

But Sirius held up a hand to silence Ron. "When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?"

"Went to look in the bushes," Harry replied. "But there wasn't anyone else there."

"Of course," Sirius muttered. "Of course, he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf... and then he sacked her?"

"Yes," Hermione fumed. "He sacked her, just because she hadn't stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled—"

"—Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!" Ron blew up.

Sirius shook his head and said, "She's got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."

He ran a hand over his clean face, evidently thinking hard. "All these absences of Barty Crouch's... he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that too... It's not like Crouch. If he's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, I'll eat Buckbeak."

"Do you know this guy personally or something?" Esmerelda asked, displeased because she was still irked with Crouch for his previous attitude towards her.

Sirius' face darkened. "Oh I know Crouch alright," he said quietly, the hate and bitterness clear in his voice. "He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban—without a trial."

The mug of hot cocoa shattered in her vice grip.

Simmering with rage, she looked down at the broken remnants of the mug and softly said, "Oh. Whoops. Let me fix that." The mug was restored in milliseconds and Esmerelda calmly straightened her back and gave the trio a reassuring smile. But Sirius wasn't fooled, he had seen that dazzling smile on his own brother plenty of times.

Esmerelda was dangerously angry.

He pushed away his troubles and regarded the other three, "Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shook their heads.

"He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic," Sirius said.

Esmerelda scoffed coldly. "Wizarding Britain seems to have the habit of electing the least suited to lead them."

Well, he couldn't deny that.

"He's a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical—and power-hungry. Oh never a Voldemort supporter," he said, reading the look on Harry's face. "No, Barty Crouch was always very out-spoken against the Dark Side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark Side... well, you wouldn't understand... you're too young..."

These were the sorts of things he felt more comfortable telling Esmerelda about, to be honest. Because he knew her mind could catch up and understand.

"That's what my dad said at the World Cup," Ron said with a trace of irritation in his voice. "Try us, why don't you?"

A grin flashed across Sirius's face. "All right, I'll try you..." He began to explain. "Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing... the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere... panic... confusion... that's how it used to be."

Sirius then launched onto the story of the two Crouches. How Crouch Senior rose to power in the Ministry and began ordering harsh measures against Voldemort's supporters—allowing Aurors to kill rather than to capture and authorizing the use of the Unforgivable Curses. He was gaining his own supports who were clamoring for him to be the next Minister, and he could've, had it not been for his own son being outed as a Voldemort supporter himself. Long story short, he was sentenced to Azkaban by his own father and died there a year later. Fun.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Sirius fell into a deep discussion while Esmerelda fell deep into her own thoughts.

The Quidditch World Cup—apparently Crouch's house elf, Winky, had stolen Harry's wand and used it to conjure up the Dark Mark. Winky herself couldn't give out a good reason why she had done it or how she managed to get the wand, but either way, she was sacked by Crouch.

Fast-forward a few months later and Harry's name is entered into the goblet and he's picked as one of the Hogwarts Champions. Ludo Bagman would occasionally lend a hand or two but... no, that wasn't really suspicious enough in her eyes. Anyways, Crouch had taken time off of work due to illness and according to Sirius, that wasn't very normal of him.

"You say your brother's Crouch's personal assistant? Any chance you could ask him if he's seen Crouch lately?" Sirius asked Ron.

"I can try," said Ron doubtfully. "Better not make it sound like I reckon Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Percy loves Crouch."

Esmerelda strongly doubted Crouch had anything to do with Harry's name being in the goblet. Despite how awful he was, Crouch sounded heavily against Voldemort and all his supporters. She was pretty sure he wouldn't try to endanger the one kid who actually managed to banish Voldemort.

But she couldn't deny that there were a lot of mysterious circumstances around him. However, that only told her that there was a chance he could know something. Or better yet, Winky. She was the one who was found with the wand after all. Now she just had to try and find the elf...

She was brought of her thoughts by her uncle's voice.

"And you might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you're at it," Sirius added, gesturing to the second copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Bagman told me they hadn't," Harry replied.

"Yes, he's quoted in the article in there," Sirius nodded at the paper. "Blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory is. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all—quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic... maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long..."

Esmerelda cleared her throat, gaining their attention. "Sorry for the sudden change of topic, but do any of you guys know where Winky is now?"

"She's working here in the kitchens of Hogwarts," Hermione sniffed angrily. "I wouldn't bother trying to get answers from her. She's absolutely distraught—and she keeps worrying about that horrible Crouch!"

Esmerelda's eyes lit up with hope. Winky was in Hogwarts! That was perfect!

She caught Sirius' confused look in the corner of her eyes, but then it finally dawned on him.

When the trio left, Esmerelda stayed in the lobby to talk to him further.

"I'm going to find Winky," she told him. "She'll tell me what happened back at the World Cup. There's a chance that the incident back then is connected to Harry being forced into the Tournament."

His eyes widened. "You think she'll speak to you?"

"She will," she confirmed. "My mother is their Creator. They worship me almost as much as they worship her."

His face broke out into a grin. "That's great! Now, er... about Crouch..."

She scowled. "What about him?"

"You're not going to do anything to him are you?" He asked nervously. He was pretty sure he was the only one in the world—aside from her demigod friends—who was aware of her... dubious morals.

"No," she said, which caused him to relax. "I'll let him live his life. No promises for when he dies though."

He sighed in defeat. Ah fuck. Well, he expected that.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Oh this elf is wasted, was the first thing to come to her mind when Esmerelda sneaked into the kitchens after the next day.

"Winky sweetie," she said sympathetically, gently prying the bottle of butterbeer out of the elf's hand. Butterbeer was so weak that even students could consume it, but it must have been considered too strong for elves to handle. "This is really too much..."

"Winky is getting through six bottles a day now, my lady," Dobby informed her breathlessly, gazing up at her as if she was some sort of deity. He and the other house elves had burst into excited cheers at her mere presence and it took her about ten minutes to quiet down so she could have a discussion with Winky.

"Poor thing," she frowned. "Can I have a glass of water?"

At least a hundred glasses were thrust at her and she took the closest one with a grateful smile. The elf whose glass she had chosen had burst into tears.

"Oh my," she murmured, before awkwardly smiling at all of them. "Er, you all can continue to your jobs. I just want to have a word with Winky here."

The elves exchanged a quick look, like a bunch of little elementary kids saying "oooooh she's in trooooouuuble" before doing what they were told. The bustling noise of work resumed and Esmerelda finally turned back to Winky.

"Here," she offered her the glass after helping her sit up.

"M-my lady..." Winky sniffled, holding the glass as if it was made of pure gold.

"Do you think you're alright enough to talk? I need your help with something." She told her.

Winky's lips started to wobble. "My lady—hic—needs Winky's help?"

Esmerelda gave her a bright smile and nodded her head. "Yes. I—"

But she never got to finish her sentence. Winky let out a loud bawl that made every house elf in the room grimace, even Esmerelda made a little jump when she heard the sound.

"W-Winky—?!"

"—WINKY DOES NOT DESERVE TO BE—HIC—IN MY LADY'S PRESENCE!" She wailed, tears running down her dirty dress. "WINKY IS A DISGRACED—HIC—HOUSE ELF—HIC!"

"No, Winky don't think like that—"

"WINKY IS A BAD ELF!" She cried out, smashing the glass of water onto her forehead.

Esmerelda gasped in horror when blood leaked down the elf's face. "Oh my gods!" A rag that had been dangling off the edge of a counter darted into her awaiting hand and, after brushing off the pieces of glass away, she gingerly pressed it against Winky's forehead.

"Winky, please stop, there's no need to hurt yourself over this," she told her gently.

"Winky is a bad elf!" Winky continued to cry out.

"That's not true at all," she frowned, pulling the rag away to see if the bleeding had gotten any worse. It didn't look too bad now. "I wouldn't go to you for help if I thought you were bad. You have the potential to be a great help for me."

Winky's shivering lessened and she looked up at her with large, watery eyes. "Winky...? A—hic—great help? Winky is a good elf?"

"Yes. I have some questions to ask you," she explained, getting another glass of water and handing it to her. "Drink up first."

Winky greedily gulped through the whole thing. "Winky wishes to help my—hic—lady," she began. "But Winky is not sure—hic—Winky will be good—hic—enough."

"You'll be fine," she reassured with a smile. "You see, my friend Harry told me you somehow managed to get his wand during the attack at the World Cup. Can you explain how that happened?"

Winky had gone pale. "W-Winky... should not tell the secret... orders from Master—hic—but my Lady wishes to know...!" She seemed to be arguing with herself.

"Winky," she said sweetly. "Can you please tell me the secret?"

Winky looked around, wary about the other elves before she padded forward to speak in a quiet whisper, "My lady... the one who stole the wand wasn't Winky—hic—it was Winky's young master, Barty Crouch."

Esmerelda blinked in shock. "What? Wait... young master? Do you mean Barty Crouch Jr?"

She nodded.

"But how is that possible? I thought he died..."

She shook her head. "Young master never died. He was switched out—hic—of the cell with my dying mistress...!"

Junior's mother switched him out of Azkaban. She remembered Sirius mentioning how ill she had looked when she came to visit her son, she must have known she was going to die soon.

She's a good mother, she had to admit. It was a shame her son didn't use this second chance to live a better life.

"What happened next?" She asked.

"It was awful...!" Winky whimpered. "The young master would act out and master Crouch had him put under Imperius! The bad spell! Winky was tasked—hic—to watch out for young master! But—but Winky made a bad mistake! Master Crouch's co-worker came to visit, and she heard Winky speaking to the young master! Master Crouch was so angry—he wiped her memories and sent her off, but he restricted the poor young master even more!"

Crouch's co-worker? That Bertha Jorkins lady? Didn't Sirius mention that she had been missing for some time now? She wondered.

"Winky tried to do good for the young master," the elf's eyes watered. "And master Crouch—hic—finally allowed young master and Winky to watch the game as long as—hic—the young master stayed under the Invisibility Cloak. But Winky was so scared of heights—hic—and the young master broke free! Winky did not see him steal Harry Potter's wand, but Winky tried very hard to keep him bound to Winky! The young master kept—hic—fighting back, but when he and Winky went into the forest he used Harry Potter's wand to make the scary symbol in the sky! And then—hic—he was struck down and Winky fell too!"

"And when you woke up, you were being interrogated by Ministry officials..." Esmerelda finished for her.

Barty Crouch Senior had nothing to gain by forcing Harry to participate in the tournament... but his Voldemort-loving son was a different story, especially if he was a fanatic supporter.

"You're doing great, Winky," she told the elf gently. "Can you tell me where Barty Crouch Jr is now?"

She shook her head wildly, covering her tearful face. "Winky does not know anymore! My poor masters...! They need Winky's help—hic—yes they do!"

He might still be with his father, Esmerelda guessed as she readied another glass of water.

"Thank you so much for all of this Winky, you've been a great help for me." She said with a smile.

But Winky just nodded and continued to sob, overwrought with emotions.

"No more drinking, okay? Can you promise me that?" She asked her.

Winky shakily looked up. "Winky—hic—will try her best for my lady..."

Her smile broadened in relief. "Good."

As she quietly exited the kitchens after thanking all the elves for their kindness, she mentally added one more thing in her agonizingly long list of things to do: find Barty Crouch Snr.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

"I'm sorry, you what?" Esmerelda blinked.

Harry, for the third time, explained, "Krum wanted to talk to me about Hermione and we went to the forest for some privacy, but then Crouch showed up—raving mad—and—"

"—and what was he talking about?" She cut in.

He glared at her tiresomely. "He wasn't acting normal, alright? He kept talking to random trees that he apparently mistook as Percy Weasley, and then he started rambling about how he needed to warn Dumbledore about something... Said he did something terrible. He mentioned his son and Bertha Jorkins for some reason... But then he said Voldemort was getting stronger."

Esmerelda inhaled sharply, feeling a migraine coming on. "And then after that?"

"I left him alone with Krum while I ran off to find Dumbledore. Stupid Snape kept holding me up, but Dumbledore showed up and I explained everything to him on the way. But when we got there... Krum was knocked out by a Stunner. He said Crouch attacked him and ran."

"Did he see Crouch attack him and run away?"

"Well, no, but he was the only one there with him so who else could it be?" He blinked.

"Can you take me to the exact spot where it happened?"

He gave her a weird look. "Er... alright...?"

It took a while, but as Harry continued to lead her through the forest, a strong feeling of death struck her. She perked up immediately as the spike continued to heighten.

Harry stopped at a small clearing. "Here," he said. "Krum and I were standing here, and we both saw Crouch talking to a tree over there," he pointed a few feet away. "I left him and Krum there at that exact spot when I went to get Dumbledore, but when we came back Krum was laying here, and Crouch was gone."

Someone had been killed here, and she had a pretty good feeling it was Crouch.

The death was certainly fresh, Esmerelda mused, looking around. There were no blood splatters around either, so whoever killed him either used the Killing Curse or cleaned up well.

She rubbed her temple. "I need to go speak to Dumbledore..."

The old Headmaster was, thankfully, in his office mulling things over by the time she arrived. She didn't even bother to give him her usual friendly greeting before collapsing on one of the chairs and stating bluntly:

"Crouch is most likely dead and his son, Barty Crouch Jr, is alive and he was the one who conjured the Dark Mark. There's also a good chance that he's the one who put Harry's name in the goblet."

Dumbledore stared at her for several seconds before blinking. "And you're certain of this?"

She nodded. "Harry took me back to the clearing where it all happened. I can sense death in that area, a very recent one. I can only assume it was Crouch."

"And as for his son?" He asked.

"I asked Winky," she grimaced. "She's a little, uh, depressed about being fired and she keeps the family's secrets close, but I managed to get her to open up. Junior never died. Instead, he switched with his dying mother when his parents came to visit him in Azkaban. I'm pretty sure they used a Polyjuice Potion or whatever. Maybe you should tell the Aurors about this? I can have Winky act as a witness and attest to that so..."

Dumbledore frowned deeply, "Unfortunately, Miss Esmerelda, the Ministry would never bother to listen to the words of a house elf, let alone one who has been fired..."

She bit her lip. "What if—"

He already knew what she was about to suggest. "—They will not bother with you, either, I'm afraid. The Ministry is full of bias people. They will not listen to the word of the daughter of a supposed mass murderer."

Her shoulders were sinking further and further from all the metaphorical weight that was being thrown on them. "So then..."

"I do not wish to force this upon you," he began. "But if anymore information comes up, or if you manage to find either of the Crouches, please do what you must."

She sighed in defeat. "Sure..."

She adored Sirius, and Sirius adored Harry, and she was sorta getting to adoring the guy too, so what other choice did she have? The dude was in obvious danger and she couldn't just let him die or anything.

"And," he added. "If you don't mind, please refrain from telling Mr. Potter any of this. I need his mind clear for the upcoming tasks. Telling him this will only get him to worry and, regretfully, his performance tends to waver when he is in that mindset."

She made a face of uncertainty. More of this secrecy bullshit?

She rubbed her forehead, feeling the migraine worsen. "Alright, fine."

She'd have to figure this out soon because the Third Task was less than a month away.

— author's note —

Sorry Regulus but this year is a lot more stressful for Essie because she's dealing with all this shit:

- mentally preparing for the war that could either result in saving the world or ending it

- physically preparing for the war with Nico by reading hundreds of files with the slightest hope that they could find info about Luke's mom so that they have everything they need to help Percy prepare to take up the curse of Achilles

- trying to raise/help/get along with her unhinged Roman half-brother

- trying to raise/help Nico BECAUSE THAT BOY JUST DOES NOT TAKE CARE OF HIMSELF OMFG

- and now apparently Dumbledore wants her to figure out this weird shit with the Crouches while also doing her school work

Did I miss anything???

Press F for Crouch Jr, a literal plant was closer to killing Essie than any of his other sad assassination attempts 😔

Crouch Jr: tfw a plant is better than you 😭

Essie upon hearing that Crouch put her uncle into Azkaban without a trial and getting ready to fight for his honor:

Okay guys, I've been contemplating this.... but I really want to write a guide thing on how to write PJO and HP fics (whether they're crossovers or not). It's not that I think I'm a specialist on the topic, but I've been reading a lot of how-to guides on Wattpad and I just think making one of my own could be fun. Plus, I've gotten a lot of comments for people asking for my help on things and turns out, I actually enjoy helping them!

I wanna cover things like characterization, face-claims, covers, etc. Some topics (mainly based on designing) might differ because Wattpad and Quotev are two very different websites, but I'll find a way to manage.

So what do you guys think???

ALSO, I HAVE AN ARTBREEDER ACCOUNT!!!! It's amazing guys. Ppl are mostly using it to make their own OCs or recreate certain characters. If any of you guys are writers, you should check it out!!!

Are there any characters from my series you want to see me make??? Please list them in the comments!!! 

(Exclude characters from HOO though, I'll make them once I actually start writing that series).