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HP Chapter 98 – Information
🕑 Added 2025-09-22 13:38:06 +0000 UTC“You three stayed up all night just to talk about Crouch?” Anne asked, looking genuinely shocked.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked sleep-deprived, with puffy eyes and pale faces.
“We did get four hours of sleep!” Hermione defended.
Anne still looked incredulous. “That’s basically the same as pulling an all-nighter. So, what did you come up with?”
The trio exchanged glances and shook their heads.
Anne frowned. “Alright then, what did you need me for? I’m sure Professor Dumbledore already informed the Ministry about what happened last night. The investigation probably began then and might even be finished by now…”
“We wanted to talk to you about… your thoughts on what happened,” Harry said.
“Thoughts?” Anne repeated.
Harry nodded.
“What kind of thoughts?”
“Well… for example, the things Mr. Crouch said. About Bertha Jorkins’s disappearance? About how powerful You-Know-Who is? About his son? And that mistake he kept mentioning?” Ron shuddered as Harry said the Dark Lord’s name and gave him a sharp look.
“He was raving,” Ron said, trying to sound confident. “Totally out of his mind.”
“But the moment he said that name, he was the most lucid he’d been. He kept begging to see Dumbledore,” Harry argued.
Hermione glanced at Anne. After thinking for a moment, Anne said, “It is strange that Mr. Crouch disappeared in the Forbidden Forest. Apparition isn’t possible inside the Hogwarts grounds. How did he leave?”
Hermione nodded in agreement. She and Anne were the only two among them who had read Hogwarts: A History, and it often gave them a similar way of thinking through problems.
“According to Harry, he was in no condition, physically or mentally, to Apparate on his own,” Anne continued. “His sudden appearance and disappearance are both suspicious. Only Harry and Krum saw him. And in that brief window while Harry and I went to get Professor Dumbledore, Krum was knocked out, and Mr. Crouch was gone. And Professor Moody, an Auror, couldn’t find a single clue…”
She sighed. “As for Bertha Jorkins, all I know is that she was a pretty unpopular employee at the Ministry. Her disappearance was… odd. Mostly because the timing and location didn’t make sense. As for what you said about that man’s power… we don’t have enough information to assess that yet. But the mistake Mr. Crouch mentioned…”
Anne twirled a silver Sickle between her fingers. “I’d guess that ‘mistake’ is directly tied to the strange things he’s done recently. It’s just a shame he never got to see Dumbledore.”
“I agree with Anne’s last point,” Hermione said. “He dismissed Winky so harshly, and that kind of personal upheaval could’ve led to a chain reaction. Winky mentioned she kept many secrets for her master. If Mr. Crouch’s odd behavior during the Triwizard Tournament was caused by a huge mistake, one serious enough, it makes sense he’d want to speak with Dumbledore. After all, Dumbledore is one of the most powerful wizards in the magical world. He was even nominated for Minister of Magic once, though he turned it down.”
“So what could that mistake be?” Harry asked.
As Anne continued flipping the Sickle through her fingers, she looked to Hermione. “What do you think?”
“If we assume everything Mr. Crouch said is true,” Hermione began, “then that mistake must link together Bertha Jorkins’s disappearance, the return of You-Know-Who’s strength, and something about Crouch’s son. If that’s the case, maybe we should start by investigating what happened to Mr. Crouch after his son died in Azkaban. We might be able to dig up some clues there.”
She spoke in one breath, and Harry and Ron’s eyes lit up. Even Anne couldn’t help but be impressed, Hermione really was brilliant. She was very close to the truth.
Stretching her arms, Anne stood up. “Hermione’s already given you a direction. I won’t interrupt you any further.” She took a few steps toward the door, then paused and looked back. “Hermione, make sure you get a full night’s sleep tonight.”
Hermione nodded, and Anne flashed her a bright smile before heading out.
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By the end of April, Anne’s peaceful days were over.
“Karkaroff used to be a Death Eater! And Snape, too!” Harry blurted out, recounting what he had seen in Dumbledore’s office.
Fanny gasped and covered her mouth in disbelief.
Anne, however, said nothing. She sat silently, massaging her temples, Hermione and Fanny had dragged her here to listen.
Earlier in Divination, Harry’s scar had started to hurt. In a flash of vision, he’d seen Voldemort and Wormtail speaking. Wormtail had completed some mission for Voldemort, but the Dark Lord had been furious and punished him with a curse.
“Dumbledore thinks that whenever Voldemort is close to me, or when he has a particularly intense desire for revenge, my scar reacts,” Harry said, rubbing his forehead.
“He also thinks Bertha Jorkins’s disappearance and Mr. Crouch’s vanishing are connected. But the Ministry doesn’t agree. In fact, Minister Fudge was in Dumbledore’s office claiming Crouch had gone mad, wandered off somewhere in a daze. He even accused Madame Maxime of attacking him…” Harry’s tone clearly showed how much he disagreed.
“I mean… it’s possible,” Ron said slowly. “She does have giant blood, even though she won’t admit it…”
“Of course she won’t admit it!” Hermione snapped. “Look what happened when Rita Skeeter dug up Hagrid’s mother’s identity. And Fudge, just because Madame Maxime has giant blood, jumps to the conclusion she’s the culprit. Who would want to admit something if it only leads to that kind of discrimination? If it were me, I’d claim I was just big-boned too.”
Then she turned to Anne. “About Mr. Crouch’s mistake, Harry asked Professor Dumbledore about it, but he didn’t know either. We’ve searched The Daily Prophet archives in the library, but we couldn’t find anything…”
The classroom fell silent for a moment. Everyone seemed deep in thought.
Fanny tugged on Anne’s sleeve, nudging her to say something.
Anne, who had stayed quiet the entire time, finally spoke, but her question had nothing to do with any of their concerns.
“When’s the third task?” she asked.
The others took a moment to register the change in topic. Only Hermione answered right away. “May 13.”
“That’s soon…” Anne said, turning to Harry. “Are you ready?”
“Er…” Harry looked at Ron and Hermione before replying. “The third task is a maze. With Ron and Hermione’s help, I’ve been practicing a few spells…”
“What spells?” Anne asked.
“Disarming Charm, Impediment Jinx, the Four-Point Spell, the Stunning Spell…” Harry began ticking them off on his fingers.
Anne nodded. “Do you remember the Unforgivable Curses Professor Moody taught in class?”
Harry nodded.
“Then recite them, and describe each one in detail, including how it’s cast and how the target reacts.”
Though confused, Harry followed her instructions.
When he finished, Anne nodded again. Then she turned to Hermione. “In the Restricted Section of the library, second shelf from the end of the charms section, third row down, there’s a book called Mastering Dark Spells the Quick Way. Get a note from Professor McGonagall and borrow it. Learning a few nasty spells might not be a bad idea.”
“Anne, why would you say that? Is Harry going to be in danger?” Fanny asked anxiously.
“Weren’t the first two tasks dangerous? Of course the third one will be, too. And with everything that’s happened lately…” Anne paused. “Better to be cautious than sorry.”
Fanny, Ron, and Harry all nodded.
Her reasoning made sense, but Hermione caught something off in Anne’s calm tone. Her gut told her Anne wasn’t telling them everything. And this time, it wasn’t a casual secret, this time, whatever it was, it weighed heavily on her.
“Professor Dumbledore’s already given us everything he knows,” Anne said, the discussion clearly coming to a close. “You all still have time, focus on learning more defensive spells. I think if someone is planning something… it’ll all come to light after the third task.”
After that, Fanny chatted with Ron and Harry a bit longer, though the conversation had no substance. Eventually, they left the classroom.
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The next evening, just after dinner, Hermione stopped Anne as she was heading to the greenhouses.
“Anne, can we talk?”
The hallway leading to the oak front doors was empty. The sun hadn’t fully set yet, casting a golden glow that silhouetted Hermione where she stood.
Anne looked around, then nodded.
“What is it?” she asked simply.
“Anne, did you…” Hermione hesitated.
“Just say it. It’s fine,” Anne said gently. It was rare to see Hermione at a loss for words.
“I just… I wanted to ask if, yesterday, when you spoke with Harry… were you hiding something?” Hermione asked cautiously. “I’m just curious. It felt like… whatever it was, it mattered to you.”
Anne studied Hermione’s face. She saw no suspicion in her eyes, only concern.
“Heh… even Fanny didn’t notice. Mind telling me how you figured it out?” Anne replied, not answering directly.
“I noticed that when you mentioned danger, you clenched your fingers. You do the same when you’re flipping coins, but this time, I felt like you weren’t looking at Harry.”
“Really?” Anne muttered. She hadn’t realized a small unconscious habit could give her away.
“Hermione…” Anne suddenly spoke in a completely different tone, low and heavy with uncertainty.
“Hmm?” Hermione answered softly.
“If…” Anne began, “Let’s say you found out someone you know is leaving soon. And not just going somewhere temporarily, but leaving for good. You never expected to meet them, and now you’ve grown close… maybe even shared a connection. But now, someone’s forcing them to leave. Would you try to stop it?”
Hermione’s first instinct was to think Anne meant death. A chill ran through her. But she didn’t ask. Instead, she thought for a moment and then answered:
“I don’t know how much I could do, but… yes. I’d try to stop it.”
“What if the one forcing them to leave is very powerful? And you had your own reasons, reasons you couldn’t explain?” Anne pressed.
“What kind of reasons?” Hermione blurted out. She almost added: What could possibly be more important than saving someone’s life? But she held her tongue.
Anne had been watching Hermione closely and guessed what she was thinking. The words caught in her throat and tasted bitter.
