I watched, curious, as the strange man caried the bundle to the boiling caldron. It was strange, because that man was missing a single finger, on his right hand.
The finger missing by Peter Petigrew.
"Kill the spare." Comes a high pitched voice from the bundle, and I figure out what it means a little to late.
"Avada Kedavra!" Screams the man, and that brilliant green light comes flying at me.
I have no time. No time to dodge or move, or cast a spell. It just hits me, right in the chest, and I fly back, against the ground. I can feel the life start to leave me, draining from by body like coke from a can. In an instant my life is flashing right before me.
I see Dad, hugging me on a certain September 1. Theres Mum, smashing into me as I return home each year. Zach, being sorted into Hufflepuff, Cho flying against my own team. Then it's Harry I'm flying against, in a immense storm. The dementors, and Harry falling from a hundred feet. Oliver, refusing my offer. My cat, Chei, purring contentedly. Then the train again. The Goblet of Fire. Dumbledore calls my name, and my House cheers. Then Harry walks in, and I look at him, confused. The first task, dragons, I get the egg, the dog dies. I wince. Then Cho, floating motionless in the water. The third task, I enter with Harry, then we split ways. The acromantula. We both grasp the cup. Then I hear Harry scream.
Then the lfie does leave me, and I'm somewhere else.
It's strangely warm, not unpleasent, but weird. I see the face of an old man, then it's that Ministry woman that disapeared. The next one is...
Lily Potter. Silky, wavy red hair falls down her back, and her eyes are exactly the same as Harry's.
With one hand on her shoulder, is the man whom Harry is a copy of. James Potter.
"Hello, Cedric Diggory," says Lily, smiling gently. "Harry seems to think very highly of you, wouldn't you say, James, dear?"
James nodded, smiling proudly. "Just like you, Lil. Doesn't have a bad thing to say about anyone."
I try to smile, but the idea that I'm dead comes crashing upon me.
"I- I'm dead, aren't I. You-Kno-"
"Voldemort, Cedric. His name is Voldemort."
"Voldemort killed me?"
The Ministry woman, Bertha Jorkins, grins. "Got that right, Diggory. Killed the rest of us, too! The oldie here is Frank, he's a muggle whom Voldie killed."
"Can we help him?" I ask. Bellow, I can see the man grooving a deep cut into Harry's arm, then pouring the drops of blood into the cauldron.
"Have patience, Cedric. We can, but not now. Only in Priori Incantatem."
My mind flashed to something I had read. "That's when two wand connect in battle, right?"
Lily nodded. "Exactly."
Voldemort has returned now. He's forcing Harry to bow at the start of a duel. I hope, for Harry's sake, that the Dark Lord makes it quick.
As Voldemort screams the killing curse, Harry screams the disarming one. In the middle, the two spells meet. Slowly, I can here an eery song leaking from that center point.
Then golden light leaks from the center too, forming a massive glowing dome.
The brilliant green light of one of the spells begins to push the other back, and Harry's wand quivers.
But magnificently, Harry pours strength into his wand, and then the red light pushes green back, until it touches Voldemort's wand.
I feel myself being tossed from wherever I am, and thrown back, until I stand with Harry.
"Hold on, Harry. Your doing magnificently." I tell him, as he looks at me with confusion.
Frank comes from the wand, too. "He was a real wizard, then. Killed me, he did. Keep fighting him, boy."
"Don't let go, now!" she cried. "Don't let him get you, Harry - don't let go!"
James comes, saying "Your mothers coming. She wants to see you." And so Lily comes, prowling out of the wand to speak to Harry.
"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments ... but we will give you time... you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts... do you understand, Harry?"
"Yes," Harry gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding beneath his fingers.
"Harry..." I whispered to Harry, coming to stand next to him, my ghostly hand resting on his shoulder. "take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents, ..."
"I will," said Harry, his face screwed up with the effort of holding the wand.
"Do it now," whispered his father's voice, "be ready to run ... do it now. ..."
Harry does so, swirling away. He's sprinting to me... Or my body, as I, along with my fellow dead, race at him.
Harry reaches my body, and calls the cup to him. In a flash, he's gone.
My conscious swirled along with him, maybe within my body, maybe not.
Then we're back at the quidditch pitch. Harry's sobbing and gasping for breath as he struggles to left his face from the grass.
"Harry!" People scream, and I stand, just me, not my body.
"He's back," Harry whispers, "Voldemort's back!"
Fudge says something that I don't catch.
Then the whispers break out. "Diggory's dead, he's dead, Cedric's dead." The whispers break out, and then I see my parents.
Dad is screaming. "That's my son, that's my son!" Mum is just wailing, and Professor McGonogall goes to comfort her.
It's absolute pandemonium.
"Harry," Minister says, "let go of him, just let go."
"He wanted me to bring his body back to his parents." Harry mumbles, and knowing that I'm invisible, I kneel next to him.
"You did Harry. You did everything you could, buddy." I say, resting a hand on his shoulder.
Moody leads Harry away, and not to the Hospital Wing, and against Dumbledore's orders.
Soon Dumbledore is rushing after them, with McGonogall and Snape close behind.
The pandemonium continues, and I find myself next to my parents, trying to hold Mum's hand and trying to rest a hand on my Dad's shoulder.
But I am just a spirit, not a ghost, but something else. I'm solid, yet no one feels me. I'm basically just there, but I know some day I'll be visible.
Some time later, everyone clears away and I follow my body to the Hospital Wing. Harry is already there and I walk to him.
He's alone and looks awful. I figure they've given him a dreamless sleep, because if I were alive, I wouldn't be able to sleep. I sit at the end of his bed, and smile sadly. I wish I could at least talk to someone.
Carefully, I imagine what Harry's thinking, and dreaming, trying to become part of that dream.
When I next open my eyes, I've done it.
Harry is sitting on a set of swings, looking blank and dull. I sit on the set next to him and speak.
"You alright, Harry?"
He jumps but then smiles. "No, I don't think so, but how are you here, Ced? I- I thought y-you were-"
"Dead," I interupt gently. "I am Harry. I don't know how I'm doing it, because last I checked, you were unconscious, and I was sitting at the foot of your bed, watching my parents. Now I'm here, speaking to you. I don't want you to blame yourself, Harry. I agreed to come with you. If it's anyone's fault, it was the man who killed me. Did you recognize him?"
"Peter Petigrew," Harry whispers hauntedly. "He killed my parents, not Sirius."
I raised an eyebrow, but don't question it. "Hey, buddy. Just don't go blaming yourself, kay? Tell Cho that I'm gonna miss her so much, tell my House that I'll always be with them, tell my parents I love them, tell yourself it wasn't your fault. It wasn't, Harry."
I stood, and left, leaving behind the dream.
What was that? I thought. I spoke to Harry, and now his formerly twitching form was still, and his face relaxed.
I stood and walked towards my parents, who were sitting with my body. "Hey Mum, Dad. I want you to know, I love you."
My Dad has tears running down his cheeks, and Mum is just sobbing uncontrolably. I wrap one solid-but-not-solid arm around her shoulders.
I don't know how long I stayed there, but after quite a while, they left, both still sobbing.
Mrs. Weasley and Bill Weasley are now sitting with Harry, and McGonogall is arguing with someone, I can't tell whom.
There raised voices awaken Harry, and he mumbles, almost inaudible, "Cedric?"
"I'm here, kid. Remember what I said," I say, knowing he can't hear me.
I leave that area, and stare into an emblem on my hand.
It's a badger, plain and simple, and the symbol of my House. I close my palm, saddened as I stare at it, knowing I'll never be part of that House again.
The days pass, and all I do is wander. I think Harry's doing better since my death, but I can't be sure. All he does is wander the halls, like me. He's got this haunted look in his eyes, and doesn't speak or eat.
Finally, it's the last day. I have yet to speak to anyone, though I visited Cho in her dreams, to tell her I love her.
At the end of year feast, I'm standing next to Cho as she sobs her eyes out through Dumbledore's speech, having a hand resting on her shoulder, rubbing it gently.
"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."
I smile as everyone raises their glass, Cho still crying.
The benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory."
"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."
I noticed Harry raise his head and stare at Dumbledore.
"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."
You've got that right, Dumbles! I thought with a grin.
A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.
"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."
Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now... or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table. I saw Draco Malfoy muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle. Harry felt a hot, sick swoop of anger in his stomach. He forced himself to look back at Dumbledore.
"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death,"
Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."
A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.
"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."
And my soul. Harry brought my sould back as well.
Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and raised his goblet once more.
Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name, as they had murmured Cedric's, and drank to him. But through a gap in the standing figures. Harry saw that Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and many of the other Slytherins had remained defiantly in their seats, their goblets untouched. Dumbledore, who after all possessed no magical eye, did not see them.
When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemorts return - such ties are more important than ever before."
Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Harry saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh.
"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemorts gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.
"It is my belief- and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.
"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."
With that last word, there was a collective gasp, and nearly everyone in the Great Hall stared at me.
I glanced up from massaging Cho's shoulder, and realized that everyone was looking at me, as though expecting me to speak.
I took a deep breath and began a speech of my own. "Harry wasn't lying as many of you think. I was killed, indirectly, by Voldemort, but the curse was uttered by Peter Petigrew. Yes! Petigrew is alive! I don't know how, or why, but he's alive, and he betrayed the Potter's on Haloween all those years ago.
"But that's not the point! I'm here to be able to say that Voldemort's back. I'm here to say that there will be a great battle some day soon, most likely here. We can't pretend what's happening isn't! If we ignore what's happening, the Wizarding World as we know it will die! Heck, we'll end up with a world of squibs eventually! If you don't fight him, your dishonouring the memories of everyone he's killed, or is responsible for killing. If you drown yourselves in sorrow, then you won't be able to fight when you need to.
"Here's my advice; train. Prepare yourselves, get the Ministry back on its feet, prepare for war, because pretending it isn't coming will only get you all killed. I don't want any of you to die, so prepare! He's back, and if Hogwarts doesn't stop him, nothing will.
"Think about Neville's parents, who were tortured to insanity because they refused to give in. They wouldn't give away information. They didn't die in vain, and if each one of you fights, you outnumber Voldemort a hundred to one! Remember the Prewett twins, Fabian and Gideon, they fought like heroes, right to the end! And that makes them heroes. What of Sirius Black, who is in hiding for something he didn't do! Unless a person is caught in the act by several witnesses, give them a trial, the trial Sirius Black didn't get! If we throw our allies in jail, we make our enemies stronger.
"Don't give in! When it's the last battle, remember those who have gone before us, as brave as can be! And fight like they fought! They didn't die in vain, and neither will you! So prepare. Be ready when the battle comes."
The Hall had been silent, listening to my speech, and I knew they all heard me because aplause broke out. Harry started clapping first, followed by my own House, the rest of the Gryffindor's then Ravenclaw, and many parts of Slytherin.
I knew they would do everything they could to prepare.
