The Boy Who Made the Right Choice

16- Three go, three return

An ear-piercing crack of thunder flashed from beyond the spooky mist. It appeared to be the silhouette of one wizard - until it divided into two, with one confunding the other up against one of the tallest gravestone statues.

"Harry?!"

Cedric slapped a hand over Draco's mouth, silencing him. They sat side by side with their backs to a gravestone that barely covered their heads. No one heard Draco's yell.

"Since when was he Harry to you?" Cedric hissed.

Draco didn't answer. Choked sounds of protest came from behind them where the Death Eaters were. Draco peaked back over the top of the gravestone, his grey eyes locking onto Harry's figure - the boy was trapped in the clutches of a grave's sulpture in a position that looked unforgivably painful. If Cedric hadn't been holding him down by the sleeve of his Slytherin jersey, Draco would've bolted from his spot on the grass and sent the Death Eaters straight to Merlin.

"Wormtail," Lucius' spine chilling voice sounded like ice as always. "Why wasn't he selected champion?"

Ratface let out a low, evil chuckle and the most sinister of smirks rested on his face. "Well, Malfoy-"

"SILENCE!" 

All heads snapped toward the cyclone of black misty smoke in the center. Harry, whom Draco had barely taken his eyes off since a Death Eater had brought him there, scrunched up his face at the burning sensation stinging like fire in his forehead.

As the owner of the thundering voice revealed himself to sight through the midst of smoke, the disgusting, snake-like face of Lord Voldemort appeared through the mist.

Cedric silently gagged but his eyes stayed wide as they fell on the long, shadowy black robe trailing behind the dark wizard. He looked back at Draco and then at Harry. Neither of them made eye contact with each other as all pairs of eyes continued to feed on Voldemort's appearance.

"Well done, Wormtail." The snake-like being sauntered over to Ratface, placing a hand with unnaturally long, clawed finger nails on his shoulder.

"Thank you, master." The wizard bowed to his lowest, almost falling face-first to the ground.

Voldemort's glowing red eyes darted toward Harry's figure held hostage in the arms of the statue. Draco's blood ran cold as ice flooded his veins. If he lies a single finger on my boyfriend...

"Ah, Harry Potter." The Dark Lord's freakish face settled into a haunting smirk as he approached Harry. Draco's blood boiled with every step he took, all the while Cedric held him down by his jersey sleeve. Draco could practically feel Cedric's desperation to pounce at the Death Eaters and Voldemort any second now.

Voldemort was a few meters away when he spoke, his voice directed at Harry whose scar was burning like a thousand fire ants had bitten him there.

"Potter... Do you know why I couldn't kill you even as an infant all those years ago?"

Nothing but choked grunts came as the reply, and Cedric locked eyes with Draco before finally letting go of his jersey sleeve as they crawled behind the wall of grave stones, gradually making their way toward Harry's statue.

"It was all because of the love of your filthy Mudblood mother!" Voldemort boomed.

"Don't say a word against my mother!" Harry bit back.

Draco and Cedric had crouched down behind a broken yet shady wooden fence. They both failed to see Ratface scuttle over to Lucius Malfoy, whispering something inaudible in the wizard's ear.

"Well, I shan't be one to dwell on the past, shall I? I couldn't kill you let alone touch you then because of her, but now..." He came to be directly in front of Harry's face. "I can touch you... Now." Voldemort rammed his finger into the scar on Harry's forehead, and an earpiercing cry of pain hollered from his mouth.