Disclaimer: I don't own Cedric, Voldemort, Wormtail or the graveyard. ...Anything in Harry Potter, really.

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a parody, so don't expect it to be outstanding. It's a dark comedy, so even though it's a parody, there are supposed to be dark or dramatic aspects to it.

Cedric Diggory and the Great Misunderstanding

Cedric got to the centre of the maze, huffing and gasping for breath. He disregarded the other champions for a moment to take in the eerily serene scene before him: standing alone in the middle of a creepy hedge maze, darkness engulfing everything around him except for the pale blue glow of the Triwizard Cup perched on a pedestal. It was quiet, but the simplicity of his next action made him hesitate. Touch the Cup – win the Tournament. Looking side to side, Cedric smirked. He was unaccompanied. No competition but the few steps to the Cup.

Cedric strode toward the blue light and reached his hand out, grasping the handle in front of him. There was a sweeping motion that lifted Cedric from his feet and forced a gasp from his lungs. He instantly understood the Cup had been a Portkey, but did this mean there was more to the task than just the maze? Once his feet hit solid ground, he surveyed the situation that'd he'd literally just been thrown into.

There were tombs surrounding him – one large tomb that stood out belonged to a Tom Riddle. The name didn't sound familiar, so Cedric's attention was easily drawn away from it.

Just then, a small man with hardly any hair left on his head entered the graveyard from seemingly out of nowhere. At first, Cedric thought he might have to duel him to win the Tournament, but quickly discounted that idea, as the man was carrying a baby.

In the dark of night, it wasn't clear to Cedric that the man was squinting at him. "What is it, Wormtail?" The voice caused Cedric to recoil in surprise – it was coming from the baby!

"He's got dirt on his face; I can't tell if it's him or not!"

"It has to be!" the voice hissed. "Crouch wouldn't let him lose the task!"

"And you trust Crouch, my Lord?"

"Are you questioning my better judgement, Wormtail?"

"Not at all, my Lord."

The sight was strange to Cedric: a grown man arguing with a voice hidden in a pile of blankets in his arms. He felt like a doll standing there with the pair of them as they waited to determine his fate.

"Ex-excuse me?" Cedric said, causing the man called Wormtail to look up at him. "Why am I here? Do you have my prize?"

"Prize?" Wormtail spat. "My Lord, this cannot be Potter!"

"You said I would get a body tonight!" the voice sounded livid at the fact that the boy before them wasn't Harry. "You'd better get me a human, adult body by sun-up, you worthless runt, or I'll have your head!"

"Ye-yes, Master." Wormtail stuttered, but by the way he effortlessly flicked his wand, binding Cedric to Tom Riddle's gravestone, there was no evidence of fear.

Cedric struggled against the tomb, but it was no use. "Am I to duel you before I win the Tournament?"

Wormtail placed the bundle in his arms on the ground and turned to Cedric. "You aren't Harry Potter!"

He was taken aback. "No, I'm Cedric Diggory."

"Lord Voldemort is growing impatient, and since Harry Potter didn't touch the Cup, it will be you who dies tonight!"

"What?" Things just clicked into place for Cedric. "You can't kill me!"

"On the contrary, we can kill you quite easily."

"But why, why would you do that?"

"Wouldn't everyone like to know why their time has come?"

"Tell him why, Wormtail!" the voice that was Lord Voldemort wheezed. "The boy deserves to know why my Death Eaters are hopeless and his life will be taken rather than that of his friend, Harry Potter!"

Cedric was surprised that the Dark Lord was being so considerate, but he realized He may just have been trying to get Wormtail to admit his pathetic incompetence. "Had our plant at Hogwarts been successful in sabotaging each of the champions, Harry Potter would touch the Cup first and be transported here so we could take his blood and bring the Dark Lord Voldemort back for good."

"Huh," Cedric said, both his eyebrows rising. "That is a pretty good plan. Seemingly flawless, actually."

"I thought so, too!" Voldemort whined. "But apparently I have too much faith in my Death Eaters to perform simple tasks!"

"But since Potter isn't here, we're going to have to use you instead."

Wormtail's statement brought Cedric to resume his struggling against the vines strapping him to the tomb. "Who would have thought that being such an unbelievably talented wizard would get me killed one day!" He sobbed. "I can't die this way!"

Wormtail conjured a large cauldron in front of Cedric and it began to bubble vigorously. "Bone of the father..." He waved his wand and a bone from the grave on which Cedric was standing ploughed through the dirt and floated into the cauldron. "Flesh of the servant..." Wormtail closed his eyes and severed his hand so it fell into the cauldron. "Blood of the enemy... Well," he hesitated, "the enemy for tonight."

Cedric braced himself for the pain to come. He was little over seventeen and his life was going to come to an end because of one great misunderstanding. When Wormtail approached him with a knife, Cedric held his breath, only to feel the blade scrape across his arm. He opened his eyes to find Wormtail dipping the knife into the potion. "That's it?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it." Wormtail shrugged. "I thought it would be worse, myself. If the Dark Lord rises, your life will be spared."

He dunked the baby into the potion and they both watched in anticipation as it began to boil more violently, the colour changing from white to red to black, then draining from its pot completely. "Well?" Cedric asked, sounding quite hopeful.

Suddenly, a dark, cloaked figure began to rise from the cauldron. Wormtail watched n awe and Cedric couldn't help but smile – he was saved! Then the figure pulled back the hood covering his face and Cedric gasped; the man had one of the largest, most dignified noses he had ever seen! "What a magnificent nose!" he said.

Voldemort's face fell and he looked at Wormtail. "Nose? I thought I told you no nose, Wormtail! For effect, remember? We discussed this earlier this week!"

"I'm sorry, Master; it must be the boy's blood!

"I told you I shouldn't have been a part of this!" Cedric said to Wormtail. Then he turned swiftly to Voldemort and said, "but your nose is lovely. I don't know why you'd want it any other way."

"This boy had nothing good to contribute to this plan, my Lord!" Wormtail argued. "He is nothing but a spare; a spare who ruined your handsome face!"

"Kill the spare!" Voldemort spat, covering his nose with his boney fingers as though ashamed by it.

Cedric tried to protest, but it was no use. Wormtail's curse left him limply hanging from the tombstone that read Tom Riddle. This Riddle, whoever he was, would now be hosting his grave to an uninvited newly deceased wizard.