Go through the journey of a young boy named Y/N Mavros, who is the product of two worlds that have fated him to fight for the survival of the magical world.
DISCLAIMER: RATED M FOR MATURE
All rights go to J.K Rowling. I obviously don't own any of t...
ALOT OF SHIT HAPPENS HERE, SO TAKE YOUR TIME WITH THIS ONE, NO SKIMMING.
IN CASE YOU FORGOT WHAT HAPPENED BEFORE, YOU SHOULD READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER.
ANYWAY, ENJOY.
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-PREVIOUSLY-
Y/N, realizing that the cup was a portkey, taking them somewhere no boys their age should go, looks over at the cup.
"We have to get back to the cup!"
"Guys..." Cedric whispers as he points forward, his wand hand slightly shaking. "S-someone's coming."
Squinting through the darkness, Harry and Cedric watch a figure draw nearer, walking steady towards them between the graves. Neither one can make out the face, but can see the figure holding something in their arms, maybe a creature or baby of some sorts.
But Y/N has never had trouble with the dark, and his eyes widen as he drags the boys back. "Pettigrew..." He whispers in surprise as the former marauders face comes into view. "Get to the cup. GET TO THE CUP!"
The creature in Pettigrew's arms twists around a bit as if it wants a better look at what's in front of him. It's beady red eyes widening in surprise over the sight of Harry.
It's lips begin to move in a cold, dark voice. "Kill the spare....!"
Pettigrew raises his wand forward towards Cedric, who's brain hasn't even registered the ugly, grotesque sight of the death eater and the creature in his arms. Harry and Y/N both look towards Cedric in fear.
"AVADA KEDARVA!"
"NO!"
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-PRESENT DAY-
You know, sometimes being a hero can suck? Why, you may ask? Because as a hero, you feel as if you have moral obligation to do what's right, no matter what, no matter the cost, even if it puts your own life in danger.
All of that goes through Y/N's head as the green spell sails towards Cedric in slower time. It honestly looks mesmerizing as it cuts through the air, if not the fact it was heading towards one of his best mates.
There is no cliche looking back at his life, no "sorry Hermione", no "sorry mom." Just a single word that has become a part of his normal vocabulary that he's honestly trying to keep at a minimum. But he feels it's appropriate for this moment.
