What Is the Truth?

Clara walked into the Headmaster's Office.

It looked much the same as it had the last time she went back. The silver tea service had already arranged two cups of steaming black tea on Dumbledore's desk. She sat down in the armchair with its thick blanket and cupped her hands around her tea, letting the warmth seep through to her icy fingertips.

Dumbledore sat down opposite her, his fingers interlaced on his knee. His blue eyes watched her quietly from behind his glasses, and he made no attempt to hurry her.

Clara took a deep breath and began at the beginning.

She told him everything, from the first time she had watched Cedric fall on the Quidditch Pitch and thought it was only a nightmare, to waking up on June 23 again and again. She told him about her failed attempts, from the notes to seeking out Cho Chang and then rushing onto the pitch, only to be dragged away by Aurors.

Then she told him how, during her last time back, she had run into Fake Moody drinking Polyjuice Potion while she was out at night. She told him about the woollen socks password Dumbledore had given her, and how he had personally checked the cup and sent Aurors to patrol the maze, yet still failed to prevent Cedric's death.

"Last time," she said, "I told you about Fake Moody. You believed me. You and Mr. Bagman went to check the Goblet of Fire yourselves and sent Aurors to patrol around the maze. You had Fake Moody under control."

"But Cedric died anyway," Dumbledore finished for her.

"Yes." Clara's voice caught. "When you checked it that night, there was nothing unusual about the cup. But Cedric still died, and You-Know-Who still came back."

She raised her head and looked Dumbledore in the eye.

"Professor, this could mean the cup was never the only problem, or someone might have put a Confundus Charm on it that even you couldn't break. So I don't think we can keep focusing on the cup. I should find out what actually happened in the maze that night. Why Potter and Cedric appeared together, why Cedric died, and how exactly You-Know-Who came back. Every time something happens, it's on the night of the final, and I always go back within minutes of Cedric's death. No one has ever had time to tell me what really happened inside the maze."

Dumbledore frowned slightly. He stood and walked to the window, turning his back to Clara, and remained silent for a long time.

"You just said that this time you went back to November 24 instead of June 23."

"Yes."

"Have you considered why you suddenly went back so much further?"

"I suppose... it might have something to do with progress," she said hesitantly. "Like a game: once you complete a level, you unlock a new starting point."

"An interesting comparison." Dumbledore turned around. "You said the first time you went back was on June 24. You heard that he had returned, and then you went back to June 23. Last time, you discovered Fake Moody and convinced me, and this time you went back to November 24. I think it may be because you've taken another step closer to the truth."

He returned to his seat opposite Clara and leaned forward slightly.

"Before, every time you went back, you started on the day before the final, which meant you had only twenty-four hours. Your greatest difficulty was a lack of time: you couldn't investigate the truth and then convince anyone in time. But this time, the loop has given you six months, which suggests it 'allows' you to make more thorough preparations."

Clara looked down at the dark amber tea in her cup. The tea leaves had settled into a blurry pattern at the bottom. She thought of the countless loops, of how, every time Cedric fell, the darkness always came too quickly. All she had ever heard were screams and cries in the chaos, and Harry's broken, rasping shouts.

"So I think I have to find out for myself." She raised her head, her gaze resolute. "At least in this final, I have to be in the maze, or at least by Cedric's side. Only then can I see what happens."

Dumbledore looked at her, approval flashing in his eyes. But when he spoke again, it was as though he had carefully weighed every word.

"Miss Albert, do you know what you're saying? If you do this, you will be entering an environment full of unknown dangers, one that neither I nor the Aurors have been able to bring fully under control. You would be facing the forces that may cause Mr. Diggory's death and bring Voldemort back to life."

"I know," Clara said, her hands trembling slightly.

"You believe this is the only way?"

"I can't think of anything else, Professor. I don't think you can either," Clara said. "If I don't find out the truth about the maze, even if we control Fake Moody this time and turn the Goblet of Fire over a hundred times to examine it, Cedric might still die. What we're facing is probably more than a tampered cup. It's a conspiracy we don't even know the full extent of. You-Know-Who is coming back, and the Triwizard Tournament is merely the opportunity he chose. If everything we did before couldn't stop Cedric's death, then the only variable left is having me in the maze this time."

"Or, if I still can't change the outcome this time, I want to know what the truth is."

So she could prepare for the next time she went back.

"I know I'm no hero, Professor. My marks aren't particularly good, and I probably don't have any talent for duelling. Against real Dark Magic, I might not even be able to hold a Shield Charm for more than a few seconds. But I'm the only one who knows this loop exists. If I don't go, this time, still no one will be able to learn the truth. Then going back those extra six months will have been meaningless."

"Before you came up with this answer, I had been thinking about how to persuade you to give up," Dumbledore said, a weariness in his voice. "I wanted to tell you that this is too dangerous, that a student shouldn't be made to take such a risk. But you're right. We don't know the truth about the maze, and Voldemort may anticipate and detect any outside interference. He's in the shadows, and we're out in the open. I'll continue to have people keep a close watch on Professor Moody's impostor. I'll do everything we did last time again."

He put his wand back inside his robes and turned to look at Clara.

"Likewise, I don't intend to persuade you to give up. But I want you to know that you're not alone. I'll help you, and so will every trustworthy professor at Hogwarts."

Clara raised her head, puzzlement in her eyes.

Dumbledore did not answer her directly. He went to his desk, opened another drawer, and took out a very old book. Its cover was dark brown leather, worn and frayed around the edges, and the gilded lettering on its spine had faded until it was almost illegible. He placed it on the desk and carefully turned to a particular page, his finger gliding slowly over the yellowed paper.

"There is a very ancient magic," he said softly, as though speaking to himself. "It was first recorded in the fifteenth century, invented by a Welsh witch named Agnes Crivow. She originally invented it to protect her husband on the battlefield. One of them was an Auror and the other a healer, and she worried herself sick whenever he went on a mission. So she created an amulet."

He looked up at Clara.

"The amulet allows the person wearing it to be transported instantly to another person's side when that person is in danger, regardless of the distance or any obstacles between them. But it can only be used once; it loses its power afterward. Its creation is also extremely complicated, requiring six very rare materials and a drop of blood from each person."

Clara froze. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but her mind was blank.

"Professor, you..."

"What I'm saying," Dumbledore said, closing the book and placing both hands on its cover, his blue eyes looking straight at her through his glasses, "is that if you must find out the truth about the maze yourself, I will help you. This amulet can bring you to Cedric's side during the competition. I will make it within the next six months. No matter what corner of the earth he's in, no matter what force is trying to hurt him, the moment his life is threatened, you will be transported to his side."

He paused, his tone growing more serious.

"Of course, I'll speak to Professor Stroup. Starting this month, you won't need to continue attending the classes on your timetable. I'll draw up a special training schedule for you. Don't worry, every professor involved in this plan will be absolutely trustworthy."

She had barely begun to take this in when Dumbledore's next words brought her back to reality.

"But I must also tell you this, Miss Albert. No one can predict what will happen after you are transported there. You may face Voldemort himself, a group of Death Eaters, or anything at all. This amulet can send you there, but it cannot bring you back. And once you use it, you will be exposed. Voldemort will know you exist, and he'll know someone is helping Harry and Cedric. You should be quite clear about what that means for you."

Clara was quite clear about it.

It meant that from then on, if she did not go back, she would no longer be just an obscure fifth-year student at Hogwarts. Voldemort would remember her name, and the Death Eaters would put her on their list of people to hunt down. She would never again be able to return to the Muggle world and live in peace, never again be just an ordinary girl. Her future would forever lie under the shadow of Dark Magic, until You-Know-Who was utterly defeated.

"Professor, I think I have one small request."

Dumbledore raised a hand, motioning for her to continue.

"If that day really comes, can you keep my parents safe? They're just two ordinary British people."

"Miss Albert," Dumbledore said, looking at her with grave solemnity, "I promise you that whatever happens, your parents will receive the fullest protection. As long as I live, no one will hurt them because of your courage."