Late May, 1995

I'd been sitting in the stands, waiting for one of the four Triwizard Champions to emerge from the maze victorious—hopefully Harry.

After the champions had entered the maze, we neither heard nor saw anything for a while. That was the most boring I had ever been looking forward to. That is, until a piercing, terrified shriek erupted from somewhere in the maze.

"Fleur," I murmured, concerned. Personally, from the few exchanges I'd had with her, had liked Fleur. She was a powerful and talented witch, as well as a fiercely loyal and caring friend. That scream was not a good thing. Not good at all. Red sparks shot up into the sky, hovering above one part of the maze, presumably where Fleur was.

A few of the professors around the maze's perimeter entered the maze.

Minutes later, McGonagall exited the maze, a trembling, pale, visibly shaken Fleur leaning on her shoulder. I saw Madam Maxime rush to her and the two speaking in rapid-fire French.

About ten minutes later, yells echoed from the maze. One was especially loud and articulate: "IMPEDIMENTA!"

I exchanged worried glances with Ron and Hermione. That had been Harry's voice.

An hour later, we were all still waiting.

Despite the deplorable monotony, I had an odd sense of foreboding. I shook it off, thinking, No, I'm not Trelawney.

I sighed as I brusquely stood. "I'll be back in a moment," I said to Hermione. "I need to get some fresh air."

I hated to leave, but it was so crowded and loud, I could barely hear myself think. I walked near the lake, looking over the black glassy lake, which I knew housed hundreds of grindylows and merpeople.

I heard something behind me. I reached for my wand as I spun, alarmed. Before I could even lay a finger on it, I saw a black-cloaked figure cast a spell, which hit me in the face. I fell to the dry earth, slipping into unconsciousness.

When I woke, I groaned. I was sore from that spell that hit me. The spell…

I leapt to my feet, looking around me, alarmed.

Wherever I was, I was nowhere near Hogwarts. Even the mountains that were visible from the castle had gone. I was in an old, overgrown graveyard. In the distance, past a huge old yew tree, a small abandoned church was visible. Far off, past a hill, a very big manor-like home stood, looking equally deserted and forgotten.

I plunged my hand into a slightly hidden pocket on the inside of my robes and withdrew my wand as a precaution, despite my not requiring it.

I was alone.

Nearly as soon as I thought that, I saw something.

A whirl of color and movement. A heavy thud, closely followed by the sound of air rushing from lungs.

Lumos, I thought, my wand raised, ready to strike at the first sign of an enemy.

"What—Bella?" A familiar voice said, bewildered.

"Harry?" I asked, confused.

"Bella?" Another, slightly less familiar voice said, perplexed.

"Cedric?" I blinked stepping closer.

Sure enough, the two students were standing up, pulling out their wands and lighting them. At their feet was the slightly glowing Triwizard Cup. They appeared okay. Worried, but unharmed, except Harry's leg was hurt, almost unable to support his weight.

"What—what happened?" Harry said. "Where are we? What's going on?"

"I—I don't know," I said, worried now. "I went for a walk—some fresh air, you know—by the lake. Someone snuck up behind me and Stunned me. I woke up here a moment ago. I haven't a clue where we are…So both of you won?"

"Yeah," Cedric replied. "Harry saved me and he wouldn't grab the Cup afterwards."

"Let me guess," I said, grinning. "You two had a fight over who should get it, each claiming the other deserved to win." When they nodded, I chuckled. "So predictable." I murmured. I paused, then said, "I don't suppose anyone told either of you that the cup was a portkey?"

"Nope."

"No."

"I figured." I paused. "It has to be a trap of some sorts. We aren't anywhere near Hogwarts."

"I have a bad feeling about this. Wands out, do you reckon?" Cedric asked.

I nodded, an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

Suddenly, I saw movement in the corner of my eye. I spun, Harry and Cedric quickly following suit.

A man approached, his head hooded. He appeared to be carrying a bundle of robes, or a baby, perhaps.

Harry and Cedric were both lowering their wands, glancing to one another. I wasn't as careless. I had my wand trained on the figure every second.

The figure stopped, staring at our little threesome.

Suddenly, my scar erupted in pain. I gasped, barely managing to keep upright. Harry was not as lucky. Caught unaware, his wand slipped a bit from his grasp as he doubled over, his hands over his scar, as he gasped.

I heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare."

Almost immediately, the man yelled, brandishing a wand, "Avada Kedavra!"

I didn't have time to try and save him. The green magic hit Cedric, who fell to the ground, spread-eagle.

Cedric Diggory was dead.

"No!" I gasped, tears coming to my eyes.

I wasn't particularly close to him. I hardly knew him. But I still felt pain from his death. The death of innocence is always a grievous occurrence. Why was it that death of innocence always marked the beginning of war? The ominous thought sent a chill of horror through me.

Completely forgetting the blinding, crippling pain, I raised my wand, a ferocious snarl on my face, a hex on my tongue, but the man anticipated it.

"Expelliarmus!" he yelled, and my wand flew from my hand. Harry's flew from his grasp, too. I cursed vehemently aloud.

The man flicked his wand again, and Harry and I were slammed against a tall, wide headstone that I'd seen read 'Tom Riddle'.

Ropes were conjured from thin air bound us to the stone. Harry was still in shock from the death of Cedric to really fight back.

The man's hood fell back as he was checking the rope's knots, and I saw his face.

"Pettigrew!" I snarled, simultaneously as Harry gasped "Wormtail!"

He ignored our gasps, making sure the ropes were so tight we couldn't move an inch. Then, he stuffed black fabric into our mouths, preventing us from speaking.

I could see our wands lying uselessly at Cedric's body's side.

I heard something near Harry's and my feet, and glanced down, to my shock, I realized it to be a great, thick python-like snake. Nagini.

Tearing my eyes away from the snake and Cedric's body, I saw that Pettigrew had put a huge cauldron at the foot of the grave. It was filled with what appeared to be water, but I assumed to be potion.

Pettigrew started a fire beneath it, and the potion bubbled quickly.

"Hurry," the cold high voice said. I realized that it came from the bundle of robes Petigrew had set down.

"It is ready, Master," Pettigrew said.

"Now…"

Wormtail pulled the flailing, struggling thing from the robes. It looked like an ugly, flayed, hairless human child with black-red skin. Its face was hideous and snakelike, with gleaming crimson eyes.

Quickly, with a look of revulsion on his face, Pettigrew put it in the cauldron, and it sank beneath the potion's bubbling surface.

Pettigrew raised his wand and spoke. "Bone of father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" A trickle of dust came from the ground and fell into the cauldron, turning the potion a poisonous-looking blue.

Bone of father…Tom Riddle…and Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. With a stab of horror, I realized the reason Harry and I had been brought here tonight.

Pettigrew raised, not his wand, but a gleaming knife. His voice broke into petrified sobs.

"Flesh—of the servent—w-willingly given—you will—revive—your master."

I realized what he was doing just as it happened.

He brought the silver dagger down towards his hand—I closed my eyes—his scream pierced the night, then a splash, as something landed in the potion. I winced, before opening my eyes. The potion had turned a burning red.

Pettigrew had sacrificed his own hand.

Still groaning in agony, he came over to Harry and I, the knife raised.

"B-blood from the enemies…forcibly taken…you will…resurrect your…foe."

Neither Harry nor I could stop him.

Pettigrew, using the knife, cut Harry in the crook of his arm, and crimson blood began to cover the blade. I saw Harry wince.

He pulled a vial from his cloak and tipped the knife so the blood trickled into the vial.

Coming over to me, he did the same to the crook of my elbow. I gasped in pain, but the gag nullified the sound. I felt blood seep from the cut, to my torn sleeve. I held my breath to stop myself from smelling the blood, but forced myself to watch as Pettigrew put the vial to the cut, letting a dribble of crimson liquid fall into it.

Pettigrew turned back to the cauldron and poured Harry's and my blood into the potion.

The potion glowed brightly, but then the glow ended, and white steam curled from the inside the cauldron.

With a feeling of icy terror, I saw the figure of a man, tall and skeletally thin, stand from inside the cauldron. Even the gag could not withhold my gasp of horror.

"Robe me," he said, in the cold, high voice.

My eyes were scrunched close, as I silently prayed this was a nightmare. That it was my imagination.

But, when I opened my eyes, as I stared into the white, flat face with livid scarlet eyes and slits, I could not deny reality:

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

As soon as Voldemort had looked away from Harry and me, my eyes were squeezed shut.

As much I hated to, I had to face the truth. Harry entering the Tournament had been a trap, just as Hermione and I had been telling him all along. There was a spy at Hogwarts, just as I and probably half the staff had suspected—a spy for Voldemort. I had been captured, as well as Harry. Cedric Diggory had been killed.

Lord Voldemort had risen.

I opened my eyes to see Voldemort press a forefinger to the Dark Mark on Pettigrew unharmed arm. My scar seared with pain again, and I could tell by the way that Harry winced, he had too. As the snakelike monster removed his hand from the mark, I saw that it had become an inky black.

As Voldemort looked around the graveyard, he whispered, but I could clearly hear him. "How many will be brave enough to return? And how many will be foolish to stay away?"

My stomach churned at his words, cold dread taking over. He'd summoned his Death Eaters. I watch, as he paced. Suddenly, he paused and looked at Harry and me, cold triumph in his gaze.

"You two stand upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly, his crimson eyes glinting in malice. "A Muggle, and a fool…very much like your mother, Harry Potter…."

He spoke about his mother and father, how he abandoned her upon finding out what she was, how she died in childbirth, leaving him at a Muggle orphanage, and how he himself killed his father.

He suddenly laughed. "Listen to me reliving family history…why, I am growing sentimental…But look, Harry, Isabella! My true family returns…."

It was true. All around—in between graves, behind the old yew tree, in every shadowy space—hooded and cloaked people were Apparating. One by one, slowly, they moved forward, cautiously, curiously, as though they didn't believe the sight to be real. They stood in a circle around Tom Riddle Sr.'s grave, Voldemort, Harry, and I, but gaps were there.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," Voldemort spoke quietly. "Thirteen years…thirteen years since we last met. Yet you answer my call as though it was yesterday…We are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?" He inhaled deeply. "I smell guilt," he hissed. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air." Again, all the Death Eaters shuddered, and so did I.

Still frightened for Harry's and my lives, I closed my eyes, trying not to listen to Voldemort questioning his Death Eaters' loyalty, the shrieks of several who their master was inflicting the Cruciatus Curse upon, Pettigrew's whimpering, and the rest. Only a few sentences caught my attention.

"…The Lestranges should stand here," Voldemort quietly said, and my eyes flew open in shock at the mention of my parents, my heart skipping several beats in fear. Voldemort had stopped in front of a large gap in between my dear uncle Lucius Malfoy and another Death Eater. Several Death Eaters' eyes flicked to me quickly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me. When Azkaban is broken open,"— my blood ran cold, and my breathing halted, as I froze in shock—"the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams…"

They were going to break my parents out of Azkaban. The thought caused fear and horror to take over. I forced myself to take calm, quiet, deep breaths, knowing I would need a cool head for whatever was coming.

After a few moments, Voldemort stopped in front of a much larger gap, at least twice the size of the Lestranges'.

"And here we have six missing Death Eaters…three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return…" That had to be Karkaroff, the cowardly cockroach. "...he will pay. One who I believe has left me forever….he will be killed, of course…" Snape? Oh, I'd better warn him if I get back. If… "…And one, who remains my faithful servant, and who has already reentered my service." Or was that Snape? Or an unnamed, unknown Death Eater who was at Hogwarts? Someone at Hogwarts had ambushed me and made the Triwizard Cup a portkey.

The Death Eaters all stirred at their master's words, looking at each other, trying to figure out who it was.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friends arrived here tonight…"

I froze. I was right. Someone at Hogwarts was an enemy.

I felt Harry stiffen next to me, as Voldemort's and his Death Eaters' eyes swiveled to us.

"Yes," Voldemort said, a grin twisting his mouth. "Harry Potter and Isabella Swan have joined us for our little gathering. One might go as far to call them my guests of honor."

There was a brief silence until Lucius Malfoy spoke up. "My Lord…we crave to know…we beg you to tell us how you achieved this…this miracle…how you managed to return to us."

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius," Voldemort began. "And it begins—and ends—with my young friends here…"

I listened, fear still near enveloping me, as he told of how Harry's mother sacrificed herself for Harry and I, et cetera.

"…His mother died in an attempt to save them—and unwittingly provided them with a protection I admit I had not foreseen….I could not touch them."

He raised his hands, putting his left forefinger very close to my cheek, and his right forefinger very close to Harry's cheek. Both he and I stiffened, and I shivered in disgust.

"His mother left upon them the traces of her sacrifice…This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it…but no matter. I can touch them now."

It was at that moment when the pale digit touched my face. I thought my head would burst from the pain. I heard Harry gasp in pain beside me and it was all I could do to clench my jaw so I did not scream, though a slight whimper escaped my lips.

The pain did not lessen as I was forced to listen to Voldemort telling of how he had been ripped from his body—less than human, spirit, or ghost—

"…Then, four years ago…the means for my return seemed assured. A wizard—young, foolish, and gullible—wandered across my path in the forest I had made my home," he said.

My eyes widened and I half-snarled at the realization, "Quirrell."

Voldemort's crimson eyes slid to me in amusement. "Very good, my dear. Quirinus Quirrel, indeed…"

I shivered at his…pet name for me. 'My dear'. It made me sick, the way he said it as if I were his.

I swore to myself then and there that if so much as one of those bloody Death Eaters made another comment, or a move, like that, I'd hex their bits off. I thought, as the Americans put it, screw it.

But I listened attentively, trying to make mental notes so I could remember this all later, to how Voldemort tried to regain his power, and how Harry and I thwarted him over and over…until today.

"….But how to get at Harry Potter and Isabella Swan? …"

I waited a bit impatiently to figure out the truth, in hopes of using the knowledge if—if—Harry and I got out of here alive. The imperative word was if. If…The chances of us making it back to Hogwarts dead was slim enough. Alive….that was very, very, very, very close to impossible. It was only a matter of minutes before he murdered us in cold blood. Trying to maintain some dignity, I somehow managed to keep the terror from my face, instead managing an expression of calm. Oddly, it was easy enough. I kind of already knew I wouldn't live to see my home—Hogwarts—again, my friends, my real family, and safety again. No… I would never see them again. There was no fear in me now, only acceptance. They would most likely never know why I never returned from my little walk. Nor what happened to Harry and me, not to mention Cedric. Poor Cedric…

I felt a pang of guilt. If he and Harry hadn't agreed on a tie, he would be alive.

Ignoring the pricking I felt in my eyes, I opened them and forced myself to listen to my nightmare's words.

"…My father's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried. But blood of foes….Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormtail? Any wizard who had hated me…as so many of them do. But I knew the ones I had to use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potter and Isabella Lestrange's blood. I wanted the blood of the two children of both the wretched Order of the Phoenix and my loyal Death Eaters. I wanted the blood of the ones who had stripped me of my powers thirteen years ago…for the lingering protection Potter's mother once gave them would then reside in my veins…"

He droned on and on. How could the Death Eaters stand it? I mean, I guessed Voldemort would do this great monologue before he killed Harry and me, but this was ridiculous…What was he trying to do? Bore Harry and me to death?

"….So how could I take them?

"Why, by using Bertha Jorkins's information, of course. Use one faithful Death Eater, stationed at Hogwarts, to ensure the boy's name was entered into the Goblet of Fire. Use my Death Eater to ensure that the boy won the tournament—that he touched the Triwizard Cup first—the cup which my Death Eater had turned into a Portkey, which brought him here. And while everyone was preoccupied with finding the boy, my Death Eater would incapacitate the girl and bring her here, with the boy. Here, beyond the reach of Dumbledore's help and protection, and into my waiting my arms. And here they are…the children you all believed had been my downfall…" I exchanged worried glances with Harry.

Voldemort moved slowly forward and faced Harry and me, his wand raised.

My eyes were locked on it, without fear in my gaze. I didn't know what they saw on my face. Maybe bravery. Maybe indifference. Maybe acceptance.

I didn't know. I didn't really care.

But, I figured he wouldn't kill us right off the bat. No. He'd want to torture us, to have us begging for death first. He would not allow us a quick way out.

"Crucio!"

The pain hit me then. I could tell Harry was hit as well. A loud cry of pain escaped from my throat before I could stop it. I clamped my mouth shut. Pain…pain…pain. Like nothing I had ever experienced before. I almost wanted to die right then and there. Almost. Except that I knew that giving up right then would be letting them win. Through the haze of pain, I distinctly heard Harry yelling in pain and the mocking laughter of the watching Death Eaters.

I wanted to die right then, or very close to wanting to…

But then it was gone, the pain, I mean. I let out a quiet, shaky breath as I hung there, limp. I glared boldly at Voldemort, the beginning of a snarl on my face.

"You see, I think, how foolish it is to suppose that these children could ever have been stronger than me," he said, his crimson eyes flicking from Harry to me and back with a look of disdain. "But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Harry Potter and Isabella Lestrange escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am going to prove my power by killing them, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Dumbledore to protect them, no filthy Mudblood to die for them. I will give them their chances. They will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. Now untie them, Wormtail, and give them back their wands."

Wormtail crept forward and obeyed Voldemort's commands, using the new silver hand Voldemort had transfigured for him. I glared at him hatefully. It was because of him that Lily and James Potter had been killed. He flinched a bit at my glare and then avoided my gaze. Good.

After untying Harry and me, he shoved our wands into our hands—though I snatched mine from him. I sent a Bat-Boogey Hex at him silently, smirking as I heard him in pain and the mocking laughter of the other Death Eaters.

Harry's leg was still hurt. It shook almost imperceptibly under his weight. Very subtly, I pointed my wand at his leg and thought the spell. There was no visual clue I had done any magic, save the fact that Harry looked shocked and was standing normally now. None had noticed, as they'd been laughing at Pettigrew.

The Death Eaters had all stepped forward, closing all the gaps.

"You have been taught how to duel, Potter, Lestrange?" Voldemort said softly, his crimson eyes glinting in the darkness.

"I believe that it the point of having a Dueling Club, is it not?" I replied loudly and cheekily.

The snakelike eyes narrowed, but he continued, "We bow to each other first, Harry, Isabella," He was grinning a bit, amused, bending a bit. Neither Harry nor I moved. "Come now. The niceties must be observed…Dumbledore would like you to show manners….Bow to Death, Harry, Isabella." He ordered, smiling, amused. The Death Eaters were laughing again. Neither Harry nor I obliged. We weren't going to give them the satisfaction of toying with us before killing us.

I shrugged and spat, "I don't feel much like it, Tom."

"I said, bow," Voldemort ordered, raising his wand. I could sense he was about to use a spell, so, very discreetly, I cast the nonverbal spell, Finite Incantatem!

I rolled my eyes at the simplicity of Voldemort's idea. Use a spell to make us bow? Pathetic. "If it will make you shut up." I muttered, just loud enough for dear Voldie to hear. I nodded my head in the smallest version of a bow. Harry did the same.

"That will do," he said softly, "And now you face me, like a man—" I huffed loudly, indignantly. Sexist much? "—straight-backed and proud, the way James Potter died…

"And now—we duel."

Voldemort raised his wand, and mine was already raised in the air. Before I could even wonder what he'd do, I was hit with the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was beyond anything I'd ever felt before today. I thought I was going to die. I don't even know how I managed to keep from screaming or falling. Miraculously, through the pain, I somehow kept my footing. I was almost doubled over—almost—and was shaking. Vaguely, I could hear the Death Eaters laughing and Harry screaming to my right. He apparently hadn't been spared.

Then it ended. I staggered sideways, into the wall of watching Death Eaters. One of them pushed me back towards my former spot.

I helped Harry up from where he'd fallen and then looked back to Voldemort. "A small break. That hurt, didn't it, Harry? Isabella? You don't want me to do it again, do you?"

Harry and I remained silent.

He didn't like that. "I asked you whether you want me to do that again. Answer me! Imperio!"

I hid a smirk as I felt the blissful sensation take over again. The bliss was like an almost welcomed retreat from the pain, wiping my mind of all thought, but I was not fooled.

…just say no, a voice said in my mind….Just say no…just answer no…

But a stronger voice, my mind's voice, said back, I will not. I won't. I won't give them the satisfaction. I won't let this monster defeat me.

With Professor Moody's lessons in mind, it was easy to throw it off. I did it immediately.

I grinned tauntingly at Voldemort. "I don't think I'll comply." I said softly but strongly back.

"I WON'T!" Harry yelled beside me, and my grin was suddenly a bit more genuine.

Our words echoed in the graveyard. The Death Eaters weren't laughing now.

"You won't?" Voldemort said. It was obvious he was angry. I felt my scar prickle uncomfortably. "You won't say no? Isabella, Harry, obedience is a virtue I apparently need to teach you. Perhaps another dose of pain?"

"Tuck and roll," I murmured, just barely loud enough for Harry to hear…"Now."

On the signal, Harry and I flung ourselves out of the way, rolling behind headstones. I heard the headstone I was behind crack as the curse hit it.

The Death Eaters were laughing now. I heard Voldemort's cold voice coming nearer as he said, "We aren't playing hide-and-seek. Are you tiring of our duel, then? You cannot hide from me, children. Does this mean you are ready for it to be over with? Come out and play then…it will be quick….It might even be painless. I do not know…. I have never died before."

I remained crouched behind the headstone as the Death Eaters guffawed and jeered.

In my peripheral vision, I saw a Death Eater approach me.

Stupefy! I thought, and, with a bang, the masked person fell, unconscious. I grinned a bit. One down. Fifty or so to go. I knew that, since I was going to die, I'd go down fighting.

I heard Voldemort approaching. It was the end. Harry and I were about to die. There was no one to help us. We were on our own.

Harry was beside me now.

"We can't just die kneeling at his feet," Harry muttered.

I nodded, and we stood.

"Have it your way then," I said to Voldemort, my wand raised and pointed at his ink black heart.

Voldemort smiled, amused.

I guess I could read Harry's mind or something, because I knew exactly what he was going to do.

"Expelliarmus!" We cried simultaneously and at the same time that Voldemort yelled, "Avada Kedavra!"

Twin blasts of red light flew from Harry's and my wands and met the green jet of light from Voldemort's wand, meeting midair. Abruptly, my wand was vibrating in my tight grip. Suddenly, an odd thread of light connected the wands—not red or green, but a bright, shining gold. Harry was beside me, clutching his shaking wand, too, and our nemesis across from us was too.

The Death Eaters were yelling in alarm, asking their 'master' for directions, while forming a tight circle around our little duel, some drawing their wands.

All of the sudden, the golden beam of light split, and thousands of strand bursting from the midpoint between the three of us, weaving above and around us until we were surrounded by a golden dome-shaped web, with the Death Eaters surrounding the outside of it, alarmed.

"Do nothing!" Voldemort was shrieking to his supporters, his snakelike eyes wide in astonishment. "Do nothing until I command you!"

Then a hauntingly familiar melody filled the air. A phoenix's song, I realized.

I held my wand tighter as I saw Voldemort trying to break the wands' connection.

The unearthly melody grew stronger, and I suddenly felt as if it was telling me something…Don't break the connection.

I saw Harry's hand tighten on his wand, as if he heard the odd message, too.

Beads of light began to gather on the thread, and it appeared as if Voldemort was pushing the light towards us. As it neared our wands, the vibrated more violently than ever, as if they would be destroyed. I concentrated, and, somehow, with Harry's help, pushed the little beads of light into Voldemort's wand.

Promptly, Voldemort's yew wand emitted pained screams—ones that sounded like Harry's and mine from a few minutes before. They changed, to the echoed shrieks of his then-tortured Death Eaters. Then, the screams stopped, the ghost of Wormtail's silver hand came from the tip…then, it was a head, looking as if made from the thickest densest smoke …a torso and arms…a person...the echo of Cedric Diggory.

I almost dropped my wand in shock, and Harry looked the same way. What the—

"Hold on, Harry, Bella," the shadow of Cedric said.

Voldemort looked so shocked, even more than before.

Then, another figure was emerging. The old man I'd seen in my dream before the beginning of this year. He looked from Voldemort, to the golden threads, to Harry and me. "A real wizard, then? Killed me, that one….You two fight him."

Next, a woman emerged. I guessed it to be Bertha Jorkins. "Don't let go, now!" she cried, surveying our battle. "Don't let him win, Harry, Bella! Don't let go!"

The dead victims of Voldemort continued to encourage us, and I suddenly felt like we might not die today.

Another figure with long hair emerged from the wand, and straightened. Harry gaped at the echo of his mother. She regarded Harry and me warmly. "Hold on for James, you two. Hang on, sweethearts! Hold on!"

Then, another figure materialized from the wand, looking very much like Harry, only older.

"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only a moment…but we will give you time…You must get to the Portkey! It will return you to Hogwarts. Do you two understand?"

Both Harry and I nodded fervently. My wand slipped a little in my hand, and I held it tighter.

The shadow-Cedric said, "Harry, Bella, take my body back to my parents, will you?"

"We will," Harry said, his face screwed up with the effort to hold on to his wand.

"Do it now, Harry, Bella," James Potter's shadow said. "Be ready to run. Do it…"

"NOW!" Harry yelled, and we simultaneously wretched our wands away from the golden threads of magic. The strands of light broke, the cage of light vanished, and the phoenix song died—but the echoes of the victims remained. They crowded Voldemort, blocking Harry and I from his sight.

And Harry and I ran, like never before in our lives, throwing curses and hexes and jinxes over my shoulder nonverbally. I heard Harry doing the same verbally.

"Stun them!" I heard Voldemort yell.

Luckily, we dodged all their spells, except one.

In a desperate attempt, I threw up shields, but they weren't very well aimed

I saw Antonin Dolohov say something unintelligible as he made a sudden slashing movement with his wand, and what looked like purple flames flew from his wand and hit me. Pain hit me, from inside my torso. From what I could briefly glimpse while fleeing, despite the fact that unconsciousness was dangerously close for me, there was no visible sign of injury—it had to be internal. The pain I felt almost drove me to pass out as I fled with Harry. Almost.

But I kept running, although I was clutching my stomach. But otherwise, neither Harry nor I were hit.

They, however, weren't as lucky. Several were hit.

Harry and I reached Cedric's body at the same time. Each grabbing one of Cedric's hands, I was firing curses and hexes at the Death Eaters, barely managing to keep them at bay.

"Stand aside!" I could hear Voldemort yell. "I will kill them! They are mine!"

I could see Voldemort now, his crimson eyes glowing in the fading light, his lipless mouth curling into a grin, his yew wand raised—

"Accio!" I heard Harry yell, his holly wand pointed at the Triwizard Cup.

It flew through the air, towards Harry and me. I raised my hand so I could grab it at the same instant as Harry. Our hands grasped the cup concurrently.

I heard Voldemort's yell of absolute fury at the same instant I felt the jerk behind the navel. Voldemort, the Death Eaters, and the graveyard vanished in a whirl of color and wind.

Then, with Harry beside me, and us bringing Cedric's corpse with us, we thudded to the earth, on our stomachs. I winced, as my abdomen made contact with the ground.

All the air in my lungs was forced out, and I coughed. The air was filled with screams and yells and murmurings and footsteps. All the while, my scar burned painfully, but I hardly noticed because of the pain in my stomach.

We were back. And we were alive.