The Wizarding Afterlife

Thereafter the Killing Curse {1}

*J.K. Rowling owns all of the characters.*

**~~~~~~~ Part One ~~~~~~~**

THE PORTKEY HAD BROUGHT US to a cemetery.

It was dark, about nighttime. Fog could be seen everywhere, hugging graves of the dead. There were statues of angels above tombs, their hands clutched in prayer, wings outstretched. Clusters of trees and grass were scattered at the sides of the graveyard—huge ones that seemed to burst out from all angles, wherever I looked.

Harry and I both landed in the dirt, our faces pale. There were a dozen cuts on our bodies, red ones that looked absolutely horrible. Harry had blood gushing out of his forehead, and his hair was even messier than usual. I was a total mess myself. My head throbbed in a continuous, aching rhythm. I felt like passing out.

My encounter with an'Imperio-ed' Viktor Krum hadn't been easy. It drained what was left of my energy, leaving me sore and in pain. If it hadn't been for Harry...

Well, let's just say I might've died in the hands of a Cruciatus Curse, right then and there.

The soil felt moist, as if it had rained recently. The air smelled of petrichor and rotten meat, making us turn to the other direction. My nose felt itchy from smelling all of it, so I sneezed. I had to cover my mouth to prevent the noise from coming out, though. I wanted to remain silent, keep myself hidden. This place...there was something unusual about it.

A groan.

There was a lot of scuffling on my side. I found Harry on the ground, clutching his lightning scar, writhing in pain. His breathing became heavier as he turned, teeth showing through a grimace. I had never seen him like this before. I gulped and tried to control my nerves. Whatever had caused Harry's scar to hurt like that was very, very dangerous.

I noticed people looming between trunks of huge trees, keeping themselves hidden in the darkness. They wore long, black robes and used the hoods of their clothing to cover their faces. I could see some of them smiling—a vicious, hungry kind of grin, like glee for absolute madness.

"Kill the spare."a thin, airy voice whispered in the air, a knife cutting through the silence.

I glanced at Harry's direction. He was still in pain.

Somehow, deep inside, I knew the voice wasn't referring to him. Which meant—

"Avada Kedavra!" a man's voice croaked, sparks of green light flying through his wand.

The light hit me in the chest. My eyes widened. I couldn't move, much less lift a finger. My whole body went stiff, and I couldn't process what was happening around me.

Death, a voice purred into my ear. You're about to die, lad.

Sometime between being in shock and realizing what had happened, I fell—motionless—to the ground.

As my vision blurred, I saw a plump man cradling a bundle in his arms, wrapped in plain black cloth. It was something the size of an infant, with thin, long fingers and sickly pale skin, its skull almost visible. Not a child.

The 'thing' and I made eye contact. It looked straight at me, smiling, its sharp teeth visible in the moonlight, eyes turned into slits. The action almost seemed like an eerie farewell.

I knew it was responsible for my death.

Eventually, my heartbeat slowed. I released one last breath before succumbing to my fate.

I am Cedric Diggory, and I died on the 24th of June, 1995.

A/N:

Hello, Potterheads! This chapter has two parts. I originally planned on making it a one-part chapter, but it might be too long. Anyway, "Part 2" might be released sometime later. Please wait and stay safe! (P.S. This book's title and cover has also been changed, for your guidance :) )

With love,

E.J. Marin