Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
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As a side note, there are no Horcruxes in this story, because if there were, Harry would have been able to live.
The Weight of Sorrow
By: ChoCedric
Albus Dumbledore's heart had sunk down to the bottom of his stomach when, minutes ago, Harry Potter, Cedric Diggory, and Alastor Mad-Eye Moody had all touched the Triwizard Cup together. Harry and Cedric had been so happy to claim a Hogwarts victory, and Moody had been standing right at the cup, so, to celebrate, they'd asked him to take it with them. And now, the three were gone.
Albus tried to calm down everyone in the stands to no avail. All the staff, students, and parents were terrified of what had happened to their champions, and Dumbledore felt the same. He'd known all year that something was wrong, but tried to deny it. And now his negligence was coming to fruition in the worst possible way. And the worst thing was all he could do now was wait.
THUMP.
Suddenly, the two boys materialized at the edge of the maze. A surge of relief swooped through Albus when he saw they were back, but what happened to the professor?
And something was still very, very wrong as he hurried over to them, as the screams of the students reverberated through the stands.
For Cedric Diggory, seventeen, was lying on the ground, and he was weeping uncontrollably. In all his years, Albus had never seen someone of that age with a look like this on his face. In one hand he clutched the Triwizard cup, and in his other arm was ...
Oh Merlin ...
Harry Potter was clutched in his other hand, his emerald eyes wide open, a look of shock and fear imprinted on his face. And Cedric wasn't letting go of him, his shoulders shaking with sorrow and a haunted look in his own gray eyes. No, no, no, Dumbledore thought as numbness seemed to encase his entire body. This can't have happened. God, no.
"Cedric, Cedric, it's all right," he said softly as he put a hand on the Hufflepuff's shoulder, the boy whose life had changed dramatically tonight, the champion who'd gone into the maze and come out a different person. "What's wrong, my boy?"
Students were herding their way onto the pitch, but the staff kept them back. Cedric's parents were let through, however, and they came running over to their son.
"He's back," Cedric gasped, still not letting go of Harry, grasping him like he was a lifeline. "You-Know-Who ... killed Harry ... and I couldn't do anything."
"It's all right," said Dumbledore, knowing that that was what Cedric would say. "You brought him home. It's all right now. It's time to let go now."
"No!" Cedric shouted as screams and sobs erupted throughout the pitch. Those who had been standing closest to Cedric had heard what he said, and the news was passed around from person to person. Soon the horrific cries of "HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!" were being screamed into the night, and Dumbledore swore he could hear Ron and Hermione's voices in the crowd, screaming their denials to the skies.
Mr. and Mrs. Diggory were both white-faced as they knelt by Cedric, and Dumbledore eventually got Harry out of his grip. "Cedric, sweetheart ..." Mrs. Diggory said, while her husband's mouth gaped open and snapped shut as though he were a fish out of water.
"Cedric, can you walk?" asked Dumbledore gently. "We're going to go back to my office. Amos, Eileen," he addressed his parents, "come with us. Cedric, I need to know, where's Professor Moody?"
"That wasn't Moody," Cedric cried out, tears still streaming unchecked down his face. "That was Barty Crouch, and he says ... he says Moody's dead."
For a moment, Dumbledore bowed his head, and felt another wave of sorrow. There had been a Death Eater impersonating Moody in his very own school. No wonder he had volunteered to stand near the Triwizard Cup. Now, because of this, yet another good friend of his was dead, and the whole world was in ruins.
Then, with him and the Diggorys supporting Cedric's shaky weight, they led him away from the weeping crowd and Harry's lifeless body. "I-I couldn't leave him there," Cedric sobbed as Dumbledore cut a path and led his somber little group inside the school, even walking past the Minister of Magic himself, who tried to call Dumbledore back but the Headmaster just gave him a look.
"I know, my boy. He's home now, where he belongs," Dumbledore said sadly.
When they reached his office, he shut the door securely and led the still-shaking Cedric to his mother, who embraced him tenderly. She was crying herself now, and Mr. Diggory's face was still as white as paper.
Dumbledore procured a vial from his drawer and handed it to Cedric. "My boy," he said gently, "take this. It's a calming potion."
On autopilot, the teen took it from his hand and put it to his lips, drinking every last drop. It seemed to work somewhat, but he still looked incredibly haunted, and his face was still streaked with the tears he'd cried for the teen who had been so cruelly ripped from the earth.
"Now, Cedric," Dumbledore said, "please tell us what happened. I know this will be very hard for you, but we need to know, all right?"
Slowly, Cedric nodded. "When Harry, myself, and who we thought was Moody touched the cup, it was a Portkey," he said tremulously. "It took us to a ... to a graveyard. We looked around, not knowing where we were, and Harry told me he'd dreamed about that place before. ... He told us we needed to escape, to touch the cup again, but before we could, this man ... You-Know-Who called him Wormtail ... came along.
"He and this bundle in his arms, which turned out to be a deformed You-Know-Who, had a conversation about what they were going to do with "the spare," and I learned it was me they were referring to. At first I thought they were going to kill me, but then they disarmed me and put me under a body-bind, and dragged me to a grave and tied me up. I screamed at Moody to help me to help Harry escape, but he just laughed. I knew something was terribly wrong then, that it couldn't be Moody, and he put something to his lips and drank it. Then he turned into Barty Crouch, Jr. It was the reverse to the Polyjuice Potion.
"Harry ..." He choked on the younger teen's name, "tried to help, but they got him too. He was tied on the gravestone right next to where I was, and then ..." He swallowed a sob, "they just made me watch as this horrible ritual happened. You-Know-Who ... he ... he came back. Bone of the father was the first part ... then, Wormtail cut off his hand ... it was put into a cauldron ... and then, Harry's arm was cut open. I ... I tried, Professor," he said, looking with heartbreak at Dumbledore, "I tried to break free, tried to get to him but I couldn't do anything. There was nothing ... nothing I could do."
"It isn't your fault, Cedric," his mother said tearfully. "Go on."
"After You-Know-Who came out of the cauldron, he called the Death Eaters," Cedric continued. "Then he challenged Harry to a duel, but ... but ..." Tears streamed from his gray eyes again. "It was no duel at all. Harry raised his wand, but You-Know-Who was just ... too quick for him. He just killed him. Just like that. And I was helpless, helpless to do anything except watch him fall."
At this point, Dumbledore went over to Cedric and embraced him. "You should never have had to bear such a burden," he said, his own voice full of sorrow. "I am so, so sorry, Cedric."
Cedric closed his eyes, saying nothing for awhile. Then they opened again, and he looked the Headmaster right in the eye. "I thought I was going to die too, die just like Harry had," he said softly. "But You-Know-Who said he was keeping me alive so I could suffer through the pain and guilt. He also said that the real Moody is inside his magical trunk." A violent shudder racked through his body. "Then he mentioned a prophecy, and sent me back to Hogwarts. I grabbed Harry and took him with me ... I couldn't leave him there." He paused, and the atmosphere was full of agony. "Is it ... is it true?" he whispered.
"Is what true, my boy?" Dumbledore asked as his heart shattered. Leave it to Voldemort to taunt Cedric with this prophecy.
"Is it true that there was a prophecy saying that Harry had the power to defeat him?"
Dumbledore didn't answer, but the expression on his face said it all.
Without warning, Cedric pulled away from the embrace and slammed his fist down on the chair. "NO!" A scream was wrenched from his throat. "NO! Oh God! Now You-Know-Who can't be defeated at all?"
"There is always hope, Cedric," Dumbledore whispered.
"NO!" Cedric shouted again. "I ... it's my fault! DAMMIT! I ... I just let him die! And prophecy or no, he was a boy with hopes and dreams! He was so damn young! It should've been me!"
And then he put his head in his hands, the worst bout of racking sobs yet seizing him.
Dumbledore, Mr. and Mrs. Diggory exchanged mournful looks, and as they tried to comfort Cedric, they knew that things would never be the same again. "I am so, so terribly sorry, my boy." Dumbledore whispered again as his eyes filled, and he succumbed to tears himself. "I am so terribly, terribly sorry."