ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜɪꜱ (ʜᴘ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

Y4 જ⁀➴ Veritasium and the Truth

I'm leaning over the bleachers, trying to escape Ron's grip.

"No, Ron, let me go! I need to help Harry-"

"(Y/N), no-"

A screech and a wail, from Amos Diggory. "My son! That's my boy!" He screams in pain, shuddering as Mr. Weasley accompanies him. The father breaks down next to his son's motionless body. Shaking him, sobbing, whispering 'wake up, wake up.'

I notice Moody shoving Harry up, pulling him aside. "Let me go Ronald!" I shout, his arms around my stomach, stopping me from moving. I shudder and jerk, my fingers clawing. Ron doesn't release me. I whip my head to face him, my hair hitting his face in the process. I bare my teeth. Ron's determined expression drops, replaced with a shocked demeanor. 

"(Y/N), you have fangs-"

"Augh! Let me go this instant, Ronald!"

Still in shock, Ron releases me, I drop slightly before finding my footing and running down the stands.

Harry.

Get me to Harry.

He's shouting and tears are running down his cheek. His eyes are bloodshot. "Get off of him!" I shout to my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Startled, he let's go. I grasp onto Harry, he clutches on to me. "Hazza, what?-"

Harry shudders, shaking in my embrace. He breathes hurriedly, gritting his teeth. "He's dead, (Y/N), Cedric, I couldn't save him- I can't breathe- don't let me go-"

"Harry! You're alive, you're alive, you're having a panic attack-"

His hands are battered and bruised, dirt and gashes covering him. "Let's go," I hear a gruff voice shout, and Professor Moody pulls us away from the crowd, away from the chaos.

I hear Mr. Diggory's wailing recede as I help Harry while he wobbles down the halllway. "Moody, where are you taking us-"

"Shut up!" He snaps, and I hold onto Harry tighter. The two of us walk with our arms wrapped around each other's shoulders. Harry lets out a hiss, grabbing onto his arm. 

We walk into Professor Moody's office, and I take a glance at one long, red, dark gash on Harry's right arm. I rub his back soothingly. The professor closes the door behind us. Locks it. I intake a sharp breath.

We're dragged into another room and Moody closes the curtains. My eyes land on a shaking chest. Harry sobs quietly, shaking in his Hogwarts champion robes. Professor Moody stays silent, beckoning us to sit down. While he turns around, I tuck a strand of Harry's long hair behind his ear, revealing another red gash. I peck the skin above it. 

Professor Moody crouches down to Harry. "Are you alright, Potter? Does it hurt?" He says, glancing down at Harry's trembling arm Get off of him. I don't trust this man a bit. 

"Not- not so much now," Harry replies for the first time in a while. "The cup, it was a Portkey," he informs, and I stare at Harry's eyes, so focused on Moody. "Someone had bewitched it."

And it was only Professor Moody who placed the cup in the maze. While placing the cup, he must've touched it, thus teleporting him to wherever Harry was. That would be the scenario if he didn't bewitch it.

But he did, didn't he? I tilt my head, looking at his face, which looks slightly different from before. His nose looks straighter, his lips thinner. With his eyes so trained on Harry, I draw my wand slightly, pointing at nowhere in particular. "Exinanire omnia, Polyjuice Potion," I mutter. A spell, that if there were any Polyjuice Potion in the presence, it would evaporate. 

"How was it?" Moody asks, ignoring my presence. "What was it like, in the Dark Lord's presence, with the others, in the graveyard?"

Harry stammers. "Sir- I don't think I said anything about a graveyard-"