Harry Potter and the Year After

Chapter Fourteen: Speak of the Devil

Chapter 14: Speak of the Devil

The first thing Harry did was take his wand from his pocket. He didn't know what he was doing in this maze or where he was supposed to go. If he just stayed here for long enough, would Kingsley eventually come and take him back out of here? What would happen if he simply tried turning around and walking back through the wall?

It was all shrubs behind him. No windows, of course. But that's the way that Kingsley had gone.

Surely he would fail this test if he simply gave up, though, right?

It was dark here in the maze as though it were night. Harry knew it wasn't. Cedric Diggory fell back and Harry felt the void of the soul that had once been there. A vacuum. The reality of death hit Harry then as it never had before. Cedric had been alive. Now he simply was not.

Harry gasped for breath as though he'd been under water. Had he just had a flashback? Was he developing PTSD right here in this Auror test?

"Lumos," Harry muttered. His wand lit to life. And before him, he saw Cedric Diggory, in his black and yellow uniform—the same he'd worn the day he had died—Cedric strode forward.

"You killed me and then stole my girlfriend," Cedric said, sliding his wand from his pocket.

"What?" Harry said. He was in utter disbelief. A short laugh escaped his lips. This couldn't possibly be real. It was just a mind game.

"You heard me! You're laughing! I'm dead because of you, Harry!" Cedric yelled. Then, wordlessly, he cast a glowing golden spell at Harry. Automatically, Harry cast a Protego charm around himself. Cedric glared at him through the Protego and then Disapparated. For a millisecond, Harry thought he'd won this particular challenge, but Cedric Apparated to just behind him.

"Boo," Cedric whispered in Harry's ear.

Harry spun and disarmed Cedric without even saying 'Expelliarmus'. Cedric seemed to sift into sand and he disappeared.

Harry took deep breaths trying to calm himself. Cedric, the night that he'd seen his parents, Voldemort... the night came crashing back to him. He'd locked it away in a box in his head until now, never to be opened again. Now, it was open and bleeding from his ears.

Harry reached up and touched his earlobe—there wasn't actually any blood.

He took a few more steps forward. Was this maze going to dredge up every horrible thing that had ever happened to him?

***

After Ron had helped a couple of customers and magically restocked the shelves (with Verity's help), George Apparated into the shop. It was nearly noon.

"Nice of you to drop in," Ron said quietly to him after his customer left, bags in hand. The shop seemed to be cleaning out since it was nearing lunch. Verity was helping the only other customer.

"I had a late night," George said, shrugging. "I had an Angelina in my bed that needed breakfasted. What was a gent to do?"

"Oh bullocks, George, search me," Ron said flatly.

"You know what it's like I'm sure," George said, winking at Ron without smiling, "I'm quite sure a certain bushy-haired bookworm, who you happen to live with, needs a breakfast now and then, too..."

"I suppose," Ron said, feeling his face flush. He could count on his fingers the number of times he'd even kissed Hermione, let alone anything else. He was starting to wonder if Hermione even liked him or if it had only been the heat of the battle.