Lily's Boy

| Chapter Thirty Five

The maze was a blur.

All four champions had agreed to keep an eye out for one another during the task, to help out if it looked like someone was in a really sticky situation. With no idea what could be lurking within the hedges, it had seemed like a good idea.

Then everything went so very, very wrong.

Harry found Cedric at the mercy of Viktor, whose eyes were glassy and unfocused. A quick spell had the Durmstrang champion unconscious on the grass, and Cedric stared up at Harry with fearful grey eyes. "What the hell is wrong with him?"

"I don't think he was himself," Harry said, looking down at Viktor with a grimace. "Someone put him under the Imperius curse." He was pretty familiar with the signs, after Moody's classes. Cedric went ashen.

"Merlin. You don't think... Fleur?" Harry hadn't been the only one to hear her scream, then. He shrugged, shaking his head. All they could hope was that she was okay.

"We should stick together, if we're the last two left," Harry suggested. "Either way it's a win for Hogwarts. And quite frankly, I just want to get this over with. The sooner we're done, the sooner we can check on Fleur, and get Viktor somewhere safe."

Cedric agreed, and after sending up red sparks for Viktor, the pair set off.

A sphinx and an acromantula later, and the pair of Hogwarts champions were stumbling up to the plinth to see the Triwizard Cup glowing softly in front of them. Harry had a huge gash on his leg, and Cedric was bleeding from several places beneath his shirt. "You take it," Harry urged. "You're the real Hogwarts champion."

"I wouldn't have made it this far without you," Cedric insisted. "You take it. Show everyone what you're made of, that Harry Potter is a force to be reckoned with. You need that more than I do."

"Together," Harry decided eventually, realising the Hufflepuff wasn't going to back down. "Like I said before; it's still a win for Hogwarts. We'll split the money, or whatever." Cedric could have it all. Harry certainly didn't need it.

That seemed to satisfy Cedric, and the pair each took a handle. Harry immediately felt like something was hooking him in the navel, and the world spun.

They arrived in what looked like a graveyard, the Cup dropping to the ground between them. "Is the Cup supposed to be a portkey?" Cedric asked, his wand raised in front of him. Harry felt dread building in his gut, every instinct insisting that something was wrong.

"Kill the spare."

The words echoed in Harry's head, the flash of light burned into his eyelids, and all of a sudden Cedric was on the ground and Harry couldn't look away and he was dead.

Cedric was dead.

The feeling of wrongness increased when the cloaked man forced Harry to his feet and began tying him to a gravestone. Harry managed to catch the name on the stone before his head was yanked back around with a hand that was missing a finger.

TOM RIDDLE

Harry stared at Wormtail as the man secured Harry's bindings. This was not good at all.

He couldn't help but look back at the grass, where Cedric's still form lay. He wished the boy would jump up, grinning that rakish grin, and assure Harry it was all a joke, that everything was fine. But he wouldn't.

He was gone.

He tried to struggle when Wormtail cut into his arm, but it was fruitless, and Harry could do nothing but watch as Voldemort was reborn from the cauldron. He caught the odd hissed word from the snake circling him slowly, but his focus was on the red-eyed wraith of a man in front of him, the parchment-pale face twisted in a satisfied smirk. "We meet again, Harry Potter."