A Change of Heart

Chapter Six

Harry was numb from all that had happened to him. He still could not recollect clearly how he had escaped from Voldemort's clutches. He remembered waking up to see the Triwizard cup in one corner, behind Cedric. He could not remember if that cup had been there before. It probably was, though he hadn't noticed it.
It was seeing the cup that had given him the idea. The cup was a portkey. If he could just touch it, he could escape. But how to reach it was the problem. He had strained against the cords that bound his wrists and somehow, they had snapped. For a moment, he had been dazed, unable to believe what had happened. He had untied the cords that bound his ankles, though it had taken him a long time. His fingers were numb from having been bound so long. He had staggered up, swaying. Then he saw his wand. It was there, just next to the Triwizard cup, flung carelessly in the corner. He had picked it up, then looked at Cedric's body. He could not leave him. He had to take him back. It was the least he could do.
Everything else had happened too fast. His reaching Hogwarts, the revelation that Barty Crouch had been disguised as Mad-Eye Moody all this time, the minister's attitude, Sirius... He closed his eyes. Tomorrow he had to return to Privet Drive. Sirius had promised him they would see each other again.
Harry tried to focus on something other than Voldemort. How had the cord that bound him snapped? It had been frayed, he remembered now. But why was he bound in the first place? A Petrificus Totalus might have been more effective. It was probably Wormtail's idea to bind him muggle fashion. It had certainly proved lucky for him.
He wondered what they were going to do next. He wondered if Sirius would be safe. He wondered what Snape was doing. He remembered the moment when Dumbledore had asked Sirius and Snape to shake hands. They looked as if they would have liked to murder each other as they had shaken hands. It wasn't even a proper handshake, thought he. They had barely touched the tips of the other's fingers.
He sighed. It was rather comforting to know some things never changed. Voldemort might have returned, but Sirius and Snape were not going to stop hating each other. In a way, the thought comforted him. It was one of the few stable things in his unstable world. As stable as the contempt and dislike the Dursleys had for him.