Author Notes – That's right, Harry and Cedric are back for a new story. In fact, it's the sequel to Love and War (which can be found here: s/9368501/1/Love-and-War). I can promise more mysteries, excitement, bad jokes and generally twee romance between our major characters. But it's great to be writing again and any comments/feedback you have is greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy the ride.

Rating – PG (just for the time being).

Note – I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, that privilege belongs to JK Rowling.

PROLOGUE

The Hospital Wing

Harry could have sworn he was having a nightmare. Nothing else could possibly explain why one moment he had been standing in a graveyard, his wand held uselessly by his side as he watched a cloaked figure march towards him, and the next he found himself lying in a bed in the Hospital Wing. At least he assumed it was the Hospital Wing. His senses hadn't quite returned but he recognised the feel of the bed under him and the warm sheets that covered him. He struggled to open his eyes and found himself looking into the face of Albus Dumbledore, who was sitting on a chair at the side of his bed, watching him with a curious expression.

'Sir,' said Harry, and Dumbledore smiled at him. Then he asked the only question he could think of, 'What happened to me sir?'

'Well now Harry,' replied the Headmaster. 'I was rather hoping you would be able to tell me that. How are you feeling?'

Harry considered his answer for a moment. He certainly wasn't in any physical pain, but something wasn't right, he could tell. It was as if he was forgetting something important. He had no idea how he had ended up in the Hospital Wing. 'I'm not sure sir,' he said in the end. 'I'm having trouble remembering exactly what's happened to me.'

Dumbledore frowned a little. 'I should have expected that. Let me tell you my boy that you gave us all quite a fright when you failed to reappear after leaving the Ministry.'

Harry struggled to recall what Dumbledore was talking about. Yes, that was right, he could remember the Ministry, fighting that creature, whatever it was, and then the fire. There had been fire, and he had escaped through one of the fireplaces, and ended up in a graveyard. But he still couldn't shake the feeling that he had forgotten some important detail.

'There was fire,' he said in the end, and Dumbledore nodded encouragingly. 'But we got away. You and me and Merlin. But then this man appeared. He cast a spell, I'm sure, and the fire in the grate turned suddenly green and the next thing I knew I was standing in an overgrown graveyard. I'd been there before.'

'When?' asked Dumbledore, leaning forward, as though he was now listening more intently to what Harry was saying.

'In a dream,' replied Harry. He realised how silly he sounded saying it, but Dumbledore leaned back again, his face in an expression of understanding. 'It was in the village where Voldemort grew up.'

'The village of Little Hangleton,' supplied Dumbledore, and Harry nodded, assuming that the Headmaster was right. 'Yes, that was what I suspected. And can you remember anything that happened after you appeared in the graveyard Harry?'

'Yes,' said Harry, straining his memory for what little he could remember. 'There was a cloaked man. He was holding what looked like a bundle of robes. But then my scar hurt, it was more painful than ever.' He instinctively reached up and touched the lightning scar on his forehead, but it wasn't hurting at that moment. 'And then I heard his voice, Voldemort's. He said "Kill the spare" I think and then the next thing I knew I was waking up here with you.'

'I see,' said Dumbledore. Silence fell between them for a few moments. 'Let me tell you what happened from my perspective Harry. When we escaped the Ministry, after having defeated that terrible opponents of ours, Merlin and I reappeared in the fireplace in my office. But there was no sign of you. I immediately began to worry, had you managed to escape the Ministry at all? So, I set about tracking you down, and my search took me to the village of Little Hangleton, to the precise graveyard that you have just described. And do you know what I found there?'

'What?' said Harry, feeling uneasy.

'Nothing but you lying unconscious on the ground Harry. No sign of Voldemort, of Wormtail.' Harry raised his eyebrows in response to that name. 'Yes, that must have been who was carrying that bundle of robes that you described. I brought you back to Hogwarts with me, and set about searching for Voldemort and Wormtail. But there is no sign of them anywhere. They have vanished without a trace, mere hours after launching a plan that I'm sure would have seen the Dark Lord returned to his body.'

'So what happened to them sir?' asked Harry, desperate to know more.

'I've no idea Harry. That is what I have been trying to find out in the three days since I brought you back and began my search.'

It took Harry a little while to process this information. 'Three days? You mean I've been in the Hospital Wing asleep...unconscious, whatever...for three whole days.'

'Yes. We tried waking you but to no avail. We were worried, but Madam Pomfrey assured us that your life-signs were all perfectly healthy and that you would wake up when you felt it was most appropriate.' Dumbledore smiled a little. 'How like a teenager.'

'But sir,' said Harry, suddenly realising the implication of all that Dumbledore had said. 'You said there was no sign of Voldemort in the graveyard. If I've been asleep for three days then how did you know that Voldemort was involved?'

Dumbledore studied him curiously for a moment, as though he couldn't quite understand what Harry was asking. 'You have forgotten something Harry,' he said in the end.

Harry found his response extremely unhelpful. 'Yes sir I know,' he replied, trying not to sound rude. 'I've forgotten how what happened after I appeared in the...' He broke off, because Dumbledore was looking at him with an odd expression, as though he found Harry completely unfathomable.

'This is fascinating. I had Madam Pomfrey conduct a complete medical examination of you. She insists that you have not been the victim of any spells or potions or enchantments. And yet, you can't remember...'

'Can't remember what sir?' asked Harry, his patient beginning to wear thin.

Dumbledore stood up suddenly, revealing the bed next to Harry's. Harry looked over and saw someone lying on it, clearly asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly. Harry looked into the face of his neighbour and something stirred in his memory. 'Cedric,' he whispered slowly.

Then it all came flooding back. Of course, he had not been alone when he had left the Ministry. Cedric Diggory, his boyfriend, had been with him. How on earth could he possibly have forgotten him? Cedric had gone with him to the graveyard. He could remember Cedric kneeling by his side while his scar burned fiercely, desperate to know what was wrong, what he could do to help. It was Cedric who had faced down the robed figure. 'Kill the spare,' Harry muttered. It was Cedric that Voldemort had been referring to.

Harry tried to leap out of bed, but Dumbledore held out a hand quickly, and Harry found his strength vanish and he fell back against his pillows. 'Please, don't alarm yourself Harry. Cedric is fine, he is just resting. Madam Pomfrey has given him a very strong sleeping potion, he will not awake for several hours yet. It was he who told me what happened in the graveyard, and his story is identical to yours. It was because Cedric told me that I have been able to conduct my own investigations into what exactly has been happening. So far, with little success, I am sorry to say.'

'Sir,' said Harry, a small lump in his throat. 'What's happened to me? Why couldn't I remember Cedric?'

'As to that Harry, I'm afraid I cannot say. But the important thing is that you remember him now. Though I don't suppose that has stirred any memories of what happened after Voldemort and Wormtail appeared in the graveyard?'

Harry shook his head. 'No sir, I'm sorry.'

'Please,' said Dumbledore, raising his hand. 'There is no need to apologise. It's not your fault. But we must try to find out what happened. I'm sure that will be the key to discovering what has happened to Voldemort.'

'Can't Merlin help you with your search sir?' asked Harry, remembering the little man in the white suit that had been an ever-present fixture in his life for the last year.

'I'm afraid not Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'Merlin has gone on his way. I don't know if or when he will return. He likes to do that.'

'Sir,' said Harry, although he felt hesitant broaching the subject after everything that had happened. 'You said that you and Merlin were old friends. How did that come about?'

Dumbledore looked at him for a moment. 'A story for another time Harry. Right now, I'm more concerned with the present.'

'What are we going to do now sir?' asked Harry, keen to know more about what Dumbledore had discovered while he had been unconscious.

'You Harry, you are going to go home for the summer. And you are going to rest.' Harry felt momentarily thrown by this. 'What happened in that graveyard will be for me to discover. You have already been through more than enough this year. My associates and I will take over from here.'

'But sir...' Harry began, but Dumbledore gave him a stern look, and he knew that there was no point arguing. 'If that's what you want sir.'

'Excellent,' said Dumbledore. 'I felt sure you'd understand. Anyway, you deserve a break. You and Cedric should enjoy some time together while you can. Away from the stresses and strains of school life. You've both got important years coming up, I'm sure you'll want to get...er, reacquainted while you've got the chance.'

'Yes sir,' said Harry, looking over at Cedric once more. 'Are you sure he's all right?'

'Perfectly Harry,' said Dumbledore, smiling once more. 'Which is quite remarkable really,' he added, as an afterthought.

'What do you mean sir?' asked Harry, and he suddenly felt nervous again.

'Because Harry,' said Dumbledore, his face forming into a frown again. 'According to Madam Pomfrey's medical examination, young Cedric here was struck with a Killing Curse not three days ago. Considering the circumstances, I think he's doing remarkably well.'