FINITE | Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire [4]

𝗹𝗶𝗶𝗶 | 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵

She couldn't move. She couldn't see or speak or hear. Grass beneath her face tickled her nostrils. She had had her eyes closed when the Portkey had transported them, and she kept them closed now; she held onto Harry's hand, the Portkey clutched under her other arm, Cedric's body pressed next to her. They were the only thing keeping her solid, keeping her alive...

Then a torrent of noise deafened her; there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams... Gwen couldn't bring herself to look up, couldn't see who was making that god-awful shrieking...

It was ringing into her brain, forcing its way through her eardrums, echoing inside her skull like a death warrant...

Then a pair of hands seized her roughly and turned her over.

'Gwen! Gwen!'

She opened her eyes. Professor McGonagall was silhouetted against the starry sky, peering down into Gwen's face; she looked as though she were crying.

McGonagall never called Gwen by her first name... that was strange...

'He's back,' Gwen whispered. 'Voldemort.'

Harry's hand slipped out of her grip, and Gwen sat up so quickly, her head spun. He was being pulled to his feet by Dumbledore. He looked deathly pale.

'What was that?' McGonagall's voice said from somewhere in the distance.

'Voldemort,' Gwen whispered, her free hand now reaching Cedric's robes. 'He killed Cedric...'

The voice of Cornelius Fudge was now speaking somewhere close by. 'My God-- Diggory! Dumbledore-- he's dead!'

The words were repeated, the many voices mixing together; some gasped, some shouted, some screeched: 'He's dead! Cedric Diggory! Dead!'

Fingers were now trying to pry Gwen's hands from Cedric's robes, others the cup from her arms.

'Gwen, let go of him,' McGonagall's voice came, shaking. But Gwen would not let go. 'You can't help him now. It's over. Let go.'

'He wanted me to bring him back,' she could hear Harry whisper, somewhere above her. The screeching continued, blurring Gwen's vision.

'Just let go now...'

The fingers groping at her hands had pried Cedric free of her grip, and now Gwen clutched the cup; it was her last lifeline, the final piece of the nightmare...

Please, let it be over now... Cedric, please wake up...

Gwen was now being pulled about; there was a crowd growing, a myriad of blurred faces, all shocked, staring, trying to get a closer look.

Stop looking at Cedric, Gwen found herself thinking, Show him some respect...

'Come on, Gwen,' McGonagall said, somewhere from her right. Her hands were now supporting Gwen's shoulders, pulling her to her feet and holding her up, for Gwen's legs would no longer support her.