Disclaimer: Cedric Diggory, and all other Harry Potter things that have been mentioned in the books belongs to Miss J. K. Rowling, HAPPY?!?! Umm, and the memory concept belongs to me.
Author's Note: This is the one fiction I'm focussing on at this point for a while, okay? I hope to get more up later on, IF I GET REVIEWS!!!!!! Please, please review!!
~WINDTORCH
THE RIDDLE GAME
Prologue
"Huff!" Cedric hit the ground hard and lay on his back. A headache was starting up where his head had hit the floor, crawling from the back of his skull and spreading. "Ugh..."
Green waves altered his vision as he struggled to sit up, as bright lights always do haunt you when you stare into them then turn away. He remembered green, and a whole lot of it. It was a bright light, yes. No... it was a wand. He could remember a graveyard... Harry Potter... and that figure, and those words...
And here he was. He was sitting in some sort of darkened room, head swimming and heart pumping. And eyes clearing. It wasn't just some darkened room. It looked like he was underground. It was a small place really, at least from where he was sitting. Turning his head, he noticed a long hall leading into darkness behind him. And two poles leading up into...
"Hello," a cold voice greeted him. Those weren't poles! Those were legs. Cedric's head snapped up, and he saw a face of a teenager boy, not so much younger than his own, if at all younger. He felt himself being raised to his feet by a strange force. And it wasn't on his will.
Trying to stand on his legs, which felt like wiggling Jell-O at the moment, he looked quizzically at the other boy. He had jet-black hair, and was wearing a Hogwarts wizard robe. A silver prefect badge was pinned to his chest, and a smile that reminded Cedric of a fox played around his face. With eyes much sharper than his own, Cedric saw the other boy tracing his features, also.
"What -er- who are you? When -er- where-?" Cedric was cut off.
"Call me Tom. This is where you were sent when you had that curse placed upon your, how do I put this, body," the boy, Tom, stared casually into Cedric's gray eyes, and Cedric had a feeling reminiscent of someone being measured or weighed... or even determined. A strange sense entered Cedric's thoughts as the boy smirked wider still.
"Tom? Well, um, I'm not so sure I understand what you're... um... I meant to say I don't... uh..."
"You don't understand, of course. Well, you're not really supposed to. I mean I haven't explained anything yet, Cedric. Being -hmm- killed doesn't let anyone think clearly," Tom said this all very slowly, as thought Cedric were a child. And then it sank in.
"What, killed? But I'm not dead!"
"I know you aren't. That curse doesn't quite kill a person. The Avada Kedavra Curse, that is. Oh, no, no, no. It merely makes the victim shed an empty shell of their body and get sent here. Don't worry about your shell. It's a very convincing duplicate."
"But how did you-?"
"What?"
"How did you know my name?"
"You don't need to know. The only things you need to know are I am Tom, you are Cedric Diggory."
"And what do you mean by not QUITE kill?" Cedric could hear his voice rising in a panic.
"You're inverted."
"What does that mean?!"
"You no longer are a human being."
"WHAT?!"
"You are a memory. You are a spirit without a body. You're not quite a ghost, but you're not alive."
"But how can that be?"
"I suppose I must explain. Listen carefully, for I do not repeat. The Avada Kedavra Curse is merely the gateway into this world. If the curse is cast upon you, your spirit is sucked into this land. An empty shell of your body, your duplicate, remains limp where you were at the time of your departure. Your real body is kept in a very safe place, I assure you. This is where your spirit arrives, away from the real world. And so you are a memory. You will only be able to return to being a human once you've regained your life's energy."
"Oh, and how's that?"
"You must win duels over other memories. By doing so, you capture their spirits, and build up your life energy a tad higher. You'll know when your life reaches the top. If somebody challenges you to a duel, you may either accept or decline. If you decline, mind you, you will neither gain nor lose anything. If you accept, you could gain another step to being mortal again. Be warned. Some duelers are much more experienced than you are, and they have certain tricks they may pull to catch you off guard in a duel. If they win, they either take all of the spirits -the life energy- you've earned, or... if you have none... they'll take your spirit. No guarantees, Cedric."
"All this fuss to become mortal. Well, I always kind of fantasized about being immortal. I think I'll stay the way I am."
"You think. The thing about memories... nobody but another memory can see you, hear you, or even know that you're there. Mortals won't even notice you if you take a muggle saw and try to cut off their head."
"But-but-!"
"Didn't I mention? Our world lapses with theirs. Memories are everywhere in that world, Cedric. You've just never seen them before. You can walk around where you usually walked, sleep on your own bed, even. You can see humans walk around, hear them talk, but not vice versa. You cannot go through solids. You, yourself, are a solid. It's really hard to explain. I suppose you'll figure it out sooner or later. You've only got eternity," Tom laughed coldly, and Cedric's eyes darted around the tunnel-like room for some kind of escape. "And one more thing. Your book..."
A small, leather diary like thing with a quill strung to it suddenly appeared in front of Cedric.
"This is your life. Your body. If anything, ANYTHING happens to this... um, curtains for you. No chance of ever becoming human again. You'll remain a memory forever, even if you win a million duels. A page torn, the cover ripped off, anything. This is also your key to communicating with mortals."
"How in the world is that going to help me?"
"This is the only solid thing, other than yourself and other memories, that you can effect. You cannot pick up a normal book. You can pick up your diary. You cannot write with a normal quill. You can write with your quill. It's almost like a muggle internet instant messenger, really. You see, that diary..." Tom snatched the diary suddenly out of the air and gave it to Cedric, "it isn't really just one diary. It is connected with another diary that looks exactly like it in the mortal world. The other diary is placed where you attend work. Or, in your case, school. Most likely the library, I should say. It appears where it will not look out of place. Inside the cover it tells your name, and the date when the diary was created; which year, like 1872 or whatever. Oh, yes...
"There actually is another way to become mortal again. Trick a mortal into feeding you all of their secrets, their concerns, and their darkest deepest feelings. And in return feed them your heart's nooks and crannies. You will eventually switch places and you'll get the better end of the deal."
"That doesn't sound right."
"Who cares? Nobody in this place is about to be goody-two-shoes about it except for you. Everyone around here is willing to do anything to get his or her body back... but no one has succeeded yet."
"BUT WHAT'S THE POINT OF ALL THIS?!" Cedric hollered, getting just as tired of this talk and no action as anyone would.
"That's... for me to know and you to find out. You've got a mission, and I'll be danged if you don't start it soon as you catch sight of your mortal friends."
"But-but-!"
And Tom disapparated, leaving Cedric with a sick kind of feeling.
"Immortality... better than heaven, but worse than hell," Cedric sighed, and looked down the long, dark, challenging hallway ahead.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Author's Note: This is the one fiction I'm focussing on at this point for a while, okay? I hope to get more up later on, IF I GET REVIEWS!!!!!! Please, please review!!
~WINDTORCH
THE RIDDLE GAME
Prologue
"Huff!" Cedric hit the ground hard and lay on his back. A headache was starting up where his head had hit the floor, crawling from the back of his skull and spreading. "Ugh..."
Green waves altered his vision as he struggled to sit up, as bright lights always do haunt you when you stare into them then turn away. He remembered green, and a whole lot of it. It was a bright light, yes. No... it was a wand. He could remember a graveyard... Harry Potter... and that figure, and those words...
And here he was. He was sitting in some sort of darkened room, head swimming and heart pumping. And eyes clearing. It wasn't just some darkened room. It looked like he was underground. It was a small place really, at least from where he was sitting. Turning his head, he noticed a long hall leading into darkness behind him. And two poles leading up into...
"Hello," a cold voice greeted him. Those weren't poles! Those were legs. Cedric's head snapped up, and he saw a face of a teenager boy, not so much younger than his own, if at all younger. He felt himself being raised to his feet by a strange force. And it wasn't on his will.
Trying to stand on his legs, which felt like wiggling Jell-O at the moment, he looked quizzically at the other boy. He had jet-black hair, and was wearing a Hogwarts wizard robe. A silver prefect badge was pinned to his chest, and a smile that reminded Cedric of a fox played around his face. With eyes much sharper than his own, Cedric saw the other boy tracing his features, also.
"What -er- who are you? When -er- where-?" Cedric was cut off.
"Call me Tom. This is where you were sent when you had that curse placed upon your, how do I put this, body," the boy, Tom, stared casually into Cedric's gray eyes, and Cedric had a feeling reminiscent of someone being measured or weighed... or even determined. A strange sense entered Cedric's thoughts as the boy smirked wider still.
"Tom? Well, um, I'm not so sure I understand what you're... um... I meant to say I don't... uh..."
"You don't understand, of course. Well, you're not really supposed to. I mean I haven't explained anything yet, Cedric. Being -hmm- killed doesn't let anyone think clearly," Tom said this all very slowly, as thought Cedric were a child. And then it sank in.
"What, killed? But I'm not dead!"
"I know you aren't. That curse doesn't quite kill a person. The Avada Kedavra Curse, that is. Oh, no, no, no. It merely makes the victim shed an empty shell of their body and get sent here. Don't worry about your shell. It's a very convincing duplicate."
"But how did you-?"
"What?"
"How did you know my name?"
"You don't need to know. The only things you need to know are I am Tom, you are Cedric Diggory."
"And what do you mean by not QUITE kill?" Cedric could hear his voice rising in a panic.
"You're inverted."
"What does that mean?!"
"You no longer are a human being."
"WHAT?!"
"You are a memory. You are a spirit without a body. You're not quite a ghost, but you're not alive."
"But how can that be?"
"I suppose I must explain. Listen carefully, for I do not repeat. The Avada Kedavra Curse is merely the gateway into this world. If the curse is cast upon you, your spirit is sucked into this land. An empty shell of your body, your duplicate, remains limp where you were at the time of your departure. Your real body is kept in a very safe place, I assure you. This is where your spirit arrives, away from the real world. And so you are a memory. You will only be able to return to being a human once you've regained your life's energy."
"Oh, and how's that?"
"You must win duels over other memories. By doing so, you capture their spirits, and build up your life energy a tad higher. You'll know when your life reaches the top. If somebody challenges you to a duel, you may either accept or decline. If you decline, mind you, you will neither gain nor lose anything. If you accept, you could gain another step to being mortal again. Be warned. Some duelers are much more experienced than you are, and they have certain tricks they may pull to catch you off guard in a duel. If they win, they either take all of the spirits -the life energy- you've earned, or... if you have none... they'll take your spirit. No guarantees, Cedric."
"All this fuss to become mortal. Well, I always kind of fantasized about being immortal. I think I'll stay the way I am."
"You think. The thing about memories... nobody but another memory can see you, hear you, or even know that you're there. Mortals won't even notice you if you take a muggle saw and try to cut off their head."
"But-but-!"
"Didn't I mention? Our world lapses with theirs. Memories are everywhere in that world, Cedric. You've just never seen them before. You can walk around where you usually walked, sleep on your own bed, even. You can see humans walk around, hear them talk, but not vice versa. You cannot go through solids. You, yourself, are a solid. It's really hard to explain. I suppose you'll figure it out sooner or later. You've only got eternity," Tom laughed coldly, and Cedric's eyes darted around the tunnel-like room for some kind of escape. "And one more thing. Your book..."
A small, leather diary like thing with a quill strung to it suddenly appeared in front of Cedric.
"This is your life. Your body. If anything, ANYTHING happens to this... um, curtains for you. No chance of ever becoming human again. You'll remain a memory forever, even if you win a million duels. A page torn, the cover ripped off, anything. This is also your key to communicating with mortals."
"How in the world is that going to help me?"
"This is the only solid thing, other than yourself and other memories, that you can effect. You cannot pick up a normal book. You can pick up your diary. You cannot write with a normal quill. You can write with your quill. It's almost like a muggle internet instant messenger, really. You see, that diary..." Tom snatched the diary suddenly out of the air and gave it to Cedric, "it isn't really just one diary. It is connected with another diary that looks exactly like it in the mortal world. The other diary is placed where you attend work. Or, in your case, school. Most likely the library, I should say. It appears where it will not look out of place. Inside the cover it tells your name, and the date when the diary was created; which year, like 1872 or whatever. Oh, yes...
"There actually is another way to become mortal again. Trick a mortal into feeding you all of their secrets, their concerns, and their darkest deepest feelings. And in return feed them your heart's nooks and crannies. You will eventually switch places and you'll get the better end of the deal."
"That doesn't sound right."
"Who cares? Nobody in this place is about to be goody-two-shoes about it except for you. Everyone around here is willing to do anything to get his or her body back... but no one has succeeded yet."
"BUT WHAT'S THE POINT OF ALL THIS?!" Cedric hollered, getting just as tired of this talk and no action as anyone would.
"That's... for me to know and you to find out. You've got a mission, and I'll be danged if you don't start it soon as you catch sight of your mortal friends."
"But-but-!"
And Tom disapparated, leaving Cedric with a sick kind of feeling.
"Immortality... better than heaven, but worse than hell," Cedric sighed, and looked down the long, dark, challenging hallway ahead.
TO BE CONTINUED...