The Girl Who Lived

The Third Task

"Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," Professor McGonnagal said.
"But the task's not till tonight!" I exclaimed, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down my front, afraid I'd had mistaken the time.
"I'm aware of that, Potter," she said. "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them. "
Wait, what?
After she left, I turned to Harry and Ron. "She doesn't expect the Dursleys to come, does she?"
"Dunno." Harry shrugged.
After breakfast, I went where McGonagall had told me to go. On first glance, I saw the champions, their parents, and Fleur's sister. Then I saw the redheads. I grinned.
"Hi, Mrs. Weasley, Bill." I greeted them.
"It's Molly, dear."
We went for a stroll around outside, talking about Percy, and the championship, and other things. Then we headed back for lunch.
We sat at the Gryffindor table. After a minute, a shocked Ron trotted over.
"Mum - Bill," he said, "What're you doing here?"
"Wow, really, is that how you greet your family?" I asked him.
"We're here to watch Heather's last task!" Mrs. Weasley ignored me.
Then, out of the blue, Mrs. Weasley asked me quietly, "Is it true you're dating Ron?"
I almost yelped. "What? No! I love him like my brother!" I whisper screamed.
She sighed in relief.
She must really like Mione more than me.
Ouch.
The rest of the day goes by. Then it was time for the third task.
I'm going to keep this short. Basically, it was a maze. Find the cup, you win. Cedric and I found it at the same time. We decided to grab it at the same time and split the winnings.
We grabbed it and immediately I regretted it. I wanted to throw up, I got so nauseous. In fact, that's what I did. I fell on my butt, stood up, and puked. Then I looked around.
"Where are we?" I asked.
Cedric shook his head. "I don't know."
We weren't anywhere in Hogwarts- at least no where I've been. We were in an overgrown cemetary. I've never been spooked out by cemetaries, but this one gave me the chills. Something wasn't right.
"Did you know the cup was a portkey?" Cedric asked.
"No. Do you suppose this is a part of the task?" I ask.
"I don't know. Maybe."
We took a few steps and I got the shivers. "Someone's coming."
We drew our wands and stood back to back, like people do in movies when they're about to fight. Yet another sign this wasn't going well.
Then, I heard a voice.
"Kill the spare."
"Avada kedavra!" A blast of green light, but it missed.
"Wait!" I scream. "Voldemort, if you're there, say something."
"I'm listening, child."
Cedric and I look at each other fearfully.
"I have a proposition. Assuming Cedric is the spare - no offense - you don't need him, but you could always wipe his memories."
"And?"
This is the part that I know will hurt me. "Spare Cedric, and I'll do whatever you need me to do. Anything, as long as no one but me gets hurt." I stutter.
Cedric screams. "Heather no!"
I weakly smile at him.
"Perhaps... Wormtail, make sure the spare can't escape."
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Cedric's body is binded together and he collapses. "I'm so sorry Cedric." A tear rolls down my cheeks as I look down at him.
Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Harry let out a yell that was strangled in the wad of material blocking his mouth.
My scar burned. It might've killed me.
　　It was as though Wormtail had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

　　The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms, put them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail lifted it. As he did so, his hood fell back, and I saw the look of revulsion on Wormtail's weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron. For one moment, I saw the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. And then Wormtail lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface; I heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.

　　Let it drown, I thought, my scar burning almost past endurance, please. . . let it drown. . . .

　　Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

　　"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you wil lrenew your son!"

　　The surface of the grave at my feet cracked. Horrified, I watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

　　And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.

　　"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master. "

　　He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.

　　I realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened - I closed my eyes as tightly as I could, but I could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through me as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. I heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron. I couldn't stand to look . . .
but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through my closed eyelids. . . .

　　Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Not until I felt Wormtail's anguished breath on his face did I realize that Wormtail was right in front of me.

　　"B-blood of the enemy . . . forcibly taken .. . you will. . . resurrect your foe."
I offered him my hand, knowing what was going to happen. He sliced it open, and I winced.

　　He staggered back to the cauldron with my blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.

　　The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened. . . .

　　Let it have drowned. I thought, let it have gone wrong. . . ?

　　And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of me, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air. ... It's gone wrong, I thought. . . it's drowned. .. please . . . please let it be dead. ...

　　But then, through the mist in front of me, I saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.
Voldemort.
"Hello, my child. You said you'd do anything, correct?"
I gulped and nodded my head.
"I want you to become my spy. My death eater."
I held back tears. This was worse than him killing me.
"Okay, but... No tattoo. Not on my arm, at least. Somewhere hidden. Please." Now I was crying.
"Not possible. It only works on the forearm. Sorry." His voice was taunting and mocking.
"Morsmordre," he pointed his wand at my arm, and there it was. The dark mark. No more short sleeves, I suppose.
"You are to report back to me when you feel the tingling in your arm. Just press your hand to it and say my name. You'll know where to go."
My tears fell silently.
"Obligate." Voldemort pointed his wand at Cedric and I grabbed him and the cup, and we were transported back to Hogwarts. He didn't remember being in the cemetery. Everyone was excited for us and cheering and it was really overwhelming.
We split the prize, which was a lot of money, and I gave mine to Fred and George to start their business, just as long as I get to work with them. They happily agreed.
Everyone was in such a happy mood.
But no one knew the truth about what really happened.