the chapter you have all been waiting for.
Happy Birthday to ME!
I decided that I wanted to post this specific chapter on my birthday, so I hope you all really like it. I've written it about eight million times, and have read it about double that. Despite that, there will be errors as it is late (the night before my birthday).
Sorry for the change to Leif from Harry in this chapter. I'm too tired to try and fix it. I sorry.
Saturday, June 24, 1995
Trunk Bedroom
Eden felt heavy when she woke up.
It took a few moments for her to fully become aware of her surroundings after the potion fully wore off, but when it did, she groaned and shoved at the heavy weight that sat on her stomach.
That did absolutely nothing.
She groaned and shoved at it again, and when she earned the same results as before, laughter echoed softly in the room.
She sighed before she started to run her fingers through Padfoot's silky fur. He groaned softly as she did this. When a dribble of drool landed on her wrist, she realized that she was in fact, not in her dorm room bed.
Her eyes snapped open, and she was greeted with the large form of Padfoot—as expected—but also the glistening chandeliers in her Trunk bedroom. She breathed deeply to speed up the wake-up process, looked around, and saw that those whom she considered to be her real family were standing around her bed.
They moved her. While she was sleeping.
How barbaric.
Remus stood to her left, while Mariea stood next to him. On her right stood Lucius, Narcissa, and Snakey-Snape. At the foot of the king-sized bed stood Pansy and Draco with a vile smugness that radiated off of them in heady waves. She noted with no small amount of amusement that Pansy and Draco both had bloodied fingers—she assumed (knew) that they had been in another pinching match.
"What are you all doing here?" she asked in a slightly scratchy voice. She started to push on Padfoot to make breathing just a tiny bit easier. Really, it's not like she needed to breath in order to live or anything like that.
When all of her weak attempts just earned her a smug dog and said dog laying on top of her—which made breathing impossible—she stretched her right hand out of the side and started to summon some Raw Magic. With her magic dancing on her fingers, she pressed her hand into his side, and he yelped before he jumped/was thrown off of the bed.
Sirius soon stood next to Mariea with his arms crossed petulantly across his chest. "That wasn't very nice, pup," he pouted.
She grinned. "You should have learned by now that sitting on me is not a Very Good thing." He pouted some more and before he could actually say anything—anything that would get him more injured—she spoke again. "So, what are you guys doing here? Why am I in my bedroom?"
"Well, you see, the Champions are allowed to spend the day with their family," Mariea explained.
"And it's such a pity that your mother fell extremely ill, and your father wasn't able to get work off in order to spend the day with you, and can only just barely make it in time for the Task," Lucius started with a smirk that tugged at his lips in a way that made him look a little bit evil.
"The officials felt so bad, they're letting us spend the day with you instead," Narcissa finished with an equally terrifying smirk on her face.
(it seemed her parents were finally paying for the nightmare comment after she woke from the Coma)
Eden grinned and jumped out of bed, more than excited to spend a few hours goofing off with her family.
Quidditch Pitch
Eden stretched her neck and tugged on the long-sleeved cotton turtleneck she wore while Ambrosia flitted about her head, tying her hair back into a single, complex braid that had many Magical Knots woven in it to help her stay calm and focused. She tugged on her locket through the fabric and was forced to stop when Narcissa nudged her and pierced her with a terrifying look.
The locket had been extensively charmed by Narcissa, Hermione—she had been there making sure Eden knew the Point Me spell and basically panicking—and Ambrosia while she had been getting dressed and ready for the Task so she could still wear it and it wouldn't be detected during any scans that were done on the Champions before the start. The locket didn't have any protections on it other than what was placed to protect it, but . . . she didn't want to risk having to take it off.
It made her feel as if Tom stood right next to her and it calmed her—although . . . the calming effect could be the Knots in her braid.
She vaguely listened to the announcer and started when she heard her name. "First, Noah Potter will go—" She frowned at the name they continually insisted that they used, despite her repeatedly informing them that it was Eden.
Her magic was stopped from showing the man what she thought of his disrespect by Snakey-Snape and Sirius wrapping their hands around her shoulders. As she spent the most time with them out of the adults, they were the ones who were most aware of her magic and her extreme lack of control over it.
Once her magic had calmed, they released her, and she leaned against Draco and tried to offer him comfort. He had been pale and shaking since she had started to get ready, and she feared he was going through some flashback because of the Second Task.
"It's going to be fine," she murmured softly to him.
"You don't know that," he responded in a choked voice. "What if something happens, and you don't come back?"
She shook her head. "Nothing's going to happen to me, Dray. Everything's going to be fine."
He was silent and held her closer.
She barely paid any attention to the announcer as he continued to explain the Task to the spectators. Dumbles pulled the Champions to the side and she barely kept from snorting in amusement when he told them they were their own worst enemies.
Their bodies were Scanned, and Krum got in trouble because of a ring he wore, which had to be confiscated. She was dismissed from the group after she was cleared, and Draco pulled her behind Lucius and Narcissa. Snakey-Snape, Sirius, Mariea, and Remus circled the two, and Pansy, Ambrosia, and Hermione—who had suddenly appeared with the Invisibility Cloak—shoved their way through.
Without warning, Ambrosia shoved her hand down the neckline of Eden's shirt. She ignored Eden's squawk, and pulled the locket out. Draco, Hermione, and Pansy covered Ambrosia's hand and the four of them began to Pray in Latin.
"Lady Soteria, we Pray and Beg that you keep Noah Eden Potter safe. We offer Lifeblood in exchange for her protection."
Hermione continued to Pray, only it was in English. "Please, Lady Soteria, grant me the strength to protect her. Grant me the honor of Guarding her. Please protect my first True Friend."
The Snakes stared at the Lion in horror before they all cut the palms of their hands and let their blood spill onto the locket. The object soaked the blood up and began to glow softly before it faded. Instead of being healed, their hands were all wrapped with a piece of Prayer Cloth that would keep the wound bleeding until the Request was completed.
Hermione pulled her wand and held the tip up to the locket chain. "Portus," she whispered. The chain glowed softly, and her forehead beaded with sweat before she herself began to glow. A moment later, the glowing stopped. Hermione wrapped her arms around Eden and held her close. "The activation key is your blood and the words True Friend."
Eden's eyes watered as she held the taller girl close. "Thank you," she whispered, "truly, thank you." She was completely shocked that she had created a Blood Key for her.
It made her infinitely grateful, and also saddened her greatly that she was so terrified of losing her, that she put her life on the line—whether she knew it or not, Hermione had offered Eden her life.
"I mean it, you know. You're my first True Friend. Leif and Ron . . . they became my friend out of obligation, after they saved me from the troll in first year. They don't . . . they don't treat me that well. I hadn't had any friends before them, so I thought it was normal until you came along and treated me like an equal. I know you probably became my friend out of obligation too, after I saved you, but . . ." she trailed off as her voice choked.
Eden tightened her hold. "Obligation be damned, Hera. Nothing in Heaven nor Hell could make me do something I don't want to do. I have an obligation to be loyal to my birth parents, but I would sooner light the pyre than protect them, Hermione. I became your friend because I wanted to. Not out of some convoluted idea of obligation."
Hermione started to cry. "You're changing my life, Eden," she hiccoughed, "I'm not sure if it's for better or for worse, yet."
"Sweetie, it's time to go," Narcissa broke in.
"I only have your best interests at heart, Hermione," Eden whispered before she pulled away, and Draco took her place. Her locket was quickly tucked back into her shirt before she was pushed in front of Sirius and Snakey-Snape once more.
She took a deep breath and tried to center herself, and Tom was thrown into the mix of thinking about her friends and family. She desperately wanted to run her fingers along the necklace. Her eyes watered, and she forcefully thought about something else, so she didn't start bawling in front of everyone.
What would it sound like when Tom would finally say her given name?
Despite the topic change, and the attempt of distraction, anxiety ate at her. She pushed it down and away and began to hyper-focus.
She could hear the frantic shifting and sniffling of her friends still hidden behind the adults. The grass crinkled with each brush of robes.
Everything would be fine.
The hedges in front of her swayed ominously as the verdant leaves rustled in the faint wind. The sweet scent of tata's worried magic tainted the air.
She would win, and she would see Tom again. She would see Draco, Hermione, Pansy, and Ambrosia again.
Her parents would hit her again—
The canon sounded. She took a deep breath and made her way through the opening with a backward glance towards her family.
She ignored her birth father who stood next to Leif with a strange look on his face.
Hogwarts Grounds
He watched her pass through the ledge and bit his lips and cheeks to hold back the tears when it closed behind her.
One still fell.
He prayed that his daughter would prove that she would be worth more to his Master alive than dead.
He stepped away from those around him and cast spells on their minds to make them think he was still there, and he had a second image appear in the back of his head, and an echo of the sounds around him. He started towards the exit of the property.
It was for his princess.
Maybe if he told himself that enough times, the guilt that had taken hold of his very soul that morning would finally leave him.
He would die for her.
His daughter would not be dying if he had anything to say about it.
He apparated away and to his Master.
Quidditch Pitch
To be honest, despite shaking in her dragon skin boots, choking on her fear, and barely able to hold her wand because of how bad she was trembling, it wasn't as bad as Eden thought it was going to be. She hadn't run into any of her competitors yet, nor any of the obstacles.
She prayed to the Olde gods that she wouldn't run into anything, but, as Sirius so enjoyed pointing out constantly, she had the Potter Luck.
And that sucked.
Royally.
She turned another corner and stopped. Her eyes widened. "Tom?" she whispered through a slightly choked throat.
Her heart thudded painfully in her chest.
She took a small step back.
In front of her, tall and proud, stood the man that she loved. He didn't look right. He was pale, his hands were covered in blood, and in them rested a still-beating heart in his hands. He lifted it to his lips and took a large bite out of it.
Against her will, she took another step back as horrifying memories assaulted her. "No." She shook her head. "No, this isn't real," she chanted—begged prayed pled demanded.
Except . . . it was real.
Once upon a time.
The heart was soon consumed—funny, it seemed to last forever when it actually happened—and a deflated lung took its place. Her legs grew week, and she stood frozen as it was devoured. The kidneys and liver soon followed. A clear goblet full of blood was quickly consumed as if he were a thirsting man in the desert.
Bile rose in the back of her throat.
"Eden . . .. Join me, my love."
She shook her head and tried to step back once more, but her legs were still frozen in fear and vile disgust. "No," she trembled, "you're not real."
"Of course, I am, Eden. Forever." The apparition started to chant. "I am forever. I am forever. Forever. Forever." The body began to convulse on the ground, and he bit his tongue as he spoke, but he was still able to hiss, "I am forever."
And he was.
Would be.
Right?
(wrong)
At least, he was until he stopped moving.
Her heart ached and she lifted her wand with the spell on the tip of her tongue. Her throat was tight. Too tight too tight too tight—thick narrow ridged broken.
She opened her mouth, yet nothing left it except for gasping sobs—howls wails whimpers help—
"Riddikulus!"
Her knees collapsed underneath her, and she fell on her hands and knees. She pushed herself up so she crouched, and bit her fingers as sobs shook her body and the still body turned into a dancing clown. She started to tremble with violent—hysterical distraught agitated devastating—fear.
"Eden? Who vas zat? Vas zat a lover?"
She shook her head, stood, and ran away from Fleur and ignored her pleas that she return and talk to her.
She was stopped in her wild run when something sliced at her upper left arm and cut through the thick fabric of her shirt and deep into her skin. She fell to the ground and backed away on her elbows as tears of pain dripped from her eyes.
She looked up at the giant spider, froze, and then swore loudly.
Location Undisclosed
"You're back so soon, my friend."
He swallowed and dug his fingers into his thigh to keep from crying. "You told me to come after she entered the maze. I have done as commanded, my Lord." He bowed before the man that he had sold his soul to.
"Yes, I did, didn't I? We still have some things to prepare for. Come."
His Master's magic flexed in the air, and a soft blue fairy light flickered to life in front of him. He followed the light and set up the large cauldron in the space indicated by other fairy lights. It was only after that task—arguably the most important—had been completed that his Master spoke again. "What saddens you?"
"It's my daughter," he choked out. He didn't bother to hide his emotions.
"Is she well?" There was true concern in the man's voice.
"I can only hope."
He bowed to the man before he walked away to grab the trunk that seemed to endlessly rattle before any more questions could be asked.
At that point, all he had was hope.
Quidditch Pitch
What you need to do is find your inspiration.
Tom, I don't want to kill! Why do I need to know this?
I can't let you be unprepared.
But the Killing Curse? Really?
It had been in a moment similar to the one she was currently in for her to find her inspiration and desire to cast the Curse.
She was surrounded on all sides, and when she turned around once more, hopelessness and fear filled her with such a visceral and violent rush that she felt nauseous. The manticore on her left lunged and she lifted her wand, unthinking, and uncaring about the beast that was about to kill her.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A bright green light that matched her eyes perfectly shot out of her wand and into the beast. It fell to the ground inches in front of her with a heavy thud. She stopped as horror filled her when something snapped in her mind.
. . . screamed when she saw a large spider as it quickly crawled towards her. She lifted her hands in front of her and a bright green light that matched her eyes escaped. The light killed the spider . . ..
She hadn't remembered.
She hadn't remembered.
She hadn't remembered.
She remembered.
She had known that she had done some sort of accidental magic that had caused a prized vase to shatter, but that was it. Had she . . ..
Had she wandlessly cast the Killing Curse when she was five?
It was impossible.
It must have—had to have—been something similar.
The Killing Curse couldn't be cast wandlessly. In fact, no Curse could be cast wandlessly.
(at least she now knew the real reason why Lily had started to abuse her)
The other manticores lunged and she used the same emerald green Curse on the five of them. She then shredded their bodies with the Shredding Curse and wiped her wand free of blood and cleared the history of the spells used.
She didn't clean her face or body of the blood.
A scream echoed in the distance, and she continued on with a weariness felt deep in her bones. She held her torn up side from the fight with the Acromantula and one of the manticores slicing her nearly in half after it died because she didn't get out of the way fast enough—the locket had begun to glow after the manticore was on the ground and the wound had been stitched together.
She hoped her friends had blood replenishers, especially Hermione.
She held her wand flat on her palm and focused solely on the Cup. "Point me." The wand spun three times before it landed on a diagonal. She groaned and had a mini fit—she stomped her feet into the ground multiple times—before she continued on with her quest. She followed the dull light—which neither grew stronger nor weaker—with a heavy limp. She came to a large, open clearing, and stopped and stared at the beast in front of her.
"You've got to be kidding me," she snarled along with a few more colorful words.
The beast just stared at her and blinked twice before it opened its giant maw. She jumped to the side to avoid getting charred by the devastating flames. While the dragon was busy with the attempt to burn fire-proof plant life, she began to think and fidget with her torn and bloodied shirt and ended up accidentally taking it off.
She frowned at the fabric in her hands for a moment before she tucked it into the waistband of her yoga pants and made sure that her locket was tucked safely into the black dragonhide sports bra she wore.
She thought over all of her options of being able to get around the dragon and came up with only one solution that would potentially work.
She couldn't fly over the dragon—she had tried just flying to the Cup shortly after she entered the Merlin-forsaken maze and found horrifying wards that started a foot below the tops of the hedges that would prevent something like that from happening.
She couldn't go around the dragon—fire would be a painful way to go she decided (after months of pondering)—nor could she go under the dragon for the same reason.
She had to go through the dragon.
She sheathed her wand before she buried her fingers in her hair. She allowed herself to panic for exactly one minute and twenty-two seconds before she took a deep breath and pulled her wand once more. She jumped to the side once more as the dragon tried to cremate her, and once the beast was suitably distracted, she began to prep.
She unBound her Core completely, and after she wiped away the single Magical Tear, dropped the Veil as well. She was already taking a huge risk by casting while wearing metal, she wasn't going to risk there being less than enough power for such a deadly spell.
(she chose to ignore the fact that she had cast it successfully—multiple times—with less magic than she had access to with it so tightly Bound)
The bushes around her started to shake and sway with the power of her Core fully unleashed, and her braid began to float semi-serenely around her head like a bewitched snake. The gaping wounds on her side slowly started to knit back together. Her heels started to lift slightly off of the ground.
Her eyes began to glow.
She took a deep breath and basked in the strength of her Core before she began to cast. The further she got into the spell, the less the bushes shook, the calmer her hair grew, and the slower her side healed.
She touched the tip of her wand to the palm of her left hand and felt something hot and near painful inside of her start to build. She tensed in prep for the Lash-Back that she was sure was about to happen.
It was too late to stop.
Magic pulled on the troposphere, and she felt as if she were suddenly on fire. Light built within her before it escaped every pore, and even though she stayed stationary, she was convinced she was being pulled in the direction of her lightning.
A sharp wail left her throat as the light continued to build and leave her body in a pulse similar to that of a heartbeat. The lightning finally disconnected from her body, and she turned away and crouched.
Even with her back turned and her eyes pressed harshly into her bony knees—the lightning was too bright.
Even with her shoulders hunched, and her hands covering her ears, something seemed to break inside of them—the thunder was too loud.
(she was completely unaware that Sirius currently cackled at the strong and blinding blue lightning, while everyone else in her family and friend group was extremely worried)
After the spell ended—after an agonizing amount of time—she attempted to heal her ears, but was only able to get them to the point where a dull ringing was heard—at least she could still hear (she would die if she would have to live without ever hearing Tom speak again). She shook her head a few times and hit her ears as if she had water stuck in them, to see if that would help—spoiler, it didn't—before she turned around.
The dragon was gone.
She looked around the large area to see if there was another exit she hadn't previously noted—there was none—and looked on the ground for footprints to see if said exit was invisible, but there were none. She moved closer to where the red-scaled beast had been, and noticed a thin, yet large, pile of ash that was slowly being blown away by the wind.
"You—you—you—you—monster!"
She whipped around at the heavily accented voice and saw Krum. He was pale as he stood stalk still, slightly curled in on himself, while he stared at her in open horror. She tilted her head to the side and placed on her Mask. "Whatever do you mean?" she asked in an innocent tone.
Her eyes flashed slightly.
When he took a hesitant step back, she couldn't help the smirk that crossed her face, and the bushes shook, while her hair became entranced in a snake's dance.
"You—you keeled it!"
Oh.
She wasn't surprised.
She had been having issues with over-powering the stronger spells that she had learned before the Coma, and even the spells that she had learned before the Second Task—not to mention the Curses that Tom had decided were musts.
She tilted her head to the other side. "I don't see what the problem is, Krum." Her smirk widened, her eyes brightened, and her hair grew stiff with deadly intent.
"You—you—"
"It was going to hurt me," she said in a faux innocent tone, "it was only self-defense," she continued. "I didn't mean to kill it." She took a step forward, her body as fluid as water.
She didn't know it, but in that moment, she became the boy's boggart.
"It's a kill or be killed world, Viktor," she crooned—her voice started sweet, and turned horribly violent on his name. "You understand that, don't you?" She tightened the grip on her wand and completely belittled the soft, child-like tone she used.
He shook his head violently for a moment—the fear in his eyes made her feel as if she had just received the best present ever—hint, being in the same time as Tom while not asleep is the best present ever (even though she's never had it before, and likely never would).
He lifted his wand, and despite the way it shook, shot the first spell.
She made quick work of the Bulgarian.
He shot a stunner; she shot a charm.
He shot a charm; she shot a jinx.
He shot a jinx; she shot a hex.
He shot a hex; she shot a curse.
He shot a curse; she shot a Curse.
He fell to the ground and gripped his head as terrified screams began to echo around the maze. The hedges rustled as creatures moved to get as far away from the squeals as possible.
Her magic swirled possessive and proud in the air around her, and she was the picture of Slytherin Confidence.
Unlike with the Nightmare—or the War Turtles, Dire Tigers, and Demon Ducks (who knew they were actually real)—she didn't find his screams heartbreaking. She found them quite gratifying.
That was the man—no, boy—who had sneered at her, mocked her, Cursed her, never gave her the benefit of the doubt, and treated her like she was less than the dirt on the bottom of his shoes.
Payback was long overdue, and how sweet it was to finally get it.
When the begging started, she dropped the spell. If she had held it for too much longer, he would have died anyway.
She Veiled the Stain of the Curse on her Core—and his just to be safe—and locked the memory in a part of his mind that only he would ever be able to see—Noah had insisted on teaching her how to do it when he learned of her dislike of Mind Magic (she didn't know why, but she would be forever grateful)—before she turned away from the blubbering child.
She removed the torn shirt from her waistband and took the largest strip and tied it around her upper arm from where the Acromantula had struck her.
She inspected her side and was disappointed to see that the only things that would probably help it would be the Cure of Obsidian or Medela Aer—she wasn't entirely sure if the Cure of Glass would work, and she greatly preferred the others over that one.
She groaned as she slowly lowered herself to the ground and transfigured the rest of the cloth into a long piece of thick linen. She toed off her shoes and wrapped it tightly around her right ankle before she slid the black thigh-high dragonhide boots back on over the Slytherin green cotton yoga pants.
She sat for a few minutes with the only sounds being Krum's sobs and the faint rustling of the maze around her before she pushed herself to her feet. She limped away from the dragon's ashes, and as she passed the sobbing student, she stepped onto his hand as she knelt next to his head. "Next time, make sure you can defend yourself against the monster before you start a fight with it, dear." She stood once more, and as she walked away, kicked his nose.
The sobs behind her did nothing to make her regret her actions. She only wished that she could make the others—those more worthy—pay.
Eventually.
It sounded just like Tom.
She stroked the blood-spattered and blood-soaked locked and continued on as she tucked it back into her bra.
Location Undisclosed
"Is everything ready?"
"Yes, my Lord." His voice was emotionless. One would never have guessed that nearly an hour prior, he had been a distraught mess.
He still was one though. It was on the inside.
The homunculus grinned. "Perfect," he purred, "now, all we have to do, is wait."
"Yes, my Lord."
Despite the desire—the words would become a familiar mantra—he feared.
Quidditch Pitch
She stared at the sphinx, and before it could speak, fell to her knees and began to cry. She didn't want to do this anymore. She wanted to be done.
No more creatures.
No more competitors—Fleur had just tried to kill her along with a pack of rapid felines.
She didn't even want the Cup.
She just wanted to go back to her friends and family and be held close by their hands. She pulled the locket out of its safe place and ran her thumb along the raw red opal.
"Why do you cry, tiny human?"
She flinched at the voice and quickly rose to her feet with her wand pointed in the direction it had come from. "De morte uitta!" At the last second, she was able to change the direction her wand pointed, and the Curse of Ribbons wrapped around a bush next to the sphinx. "Sorry," she hiccoughed.
The beast sniffed. "Why do you cry, tiny human?"
"Is that the riddle?"
"No."
"Then I'm not going to answer."
"If you do not answer, tiny human, I will not give you a riddle, and you will be forced to find another way, a less direct way to the center." The sphinx had a slightly Spanish accent, she noticed with awe.
And glorious sapphire blue eyes—focus!
"I just want to be done. I hurt. I'm tired. I just want to go back to my tata—" her voice choked. "—I didn't even want to do this!" she cried.
"What happens if an unstoppable force hits an immovable object?"
She looked up from where she had crouched and frowned at the sphinx. "That doesn't make sense. Is that the riddle? If that's the riddle it's a stupid riddle because it has no answer," she moped through her tears.
She sphinx stepped to the side. "I wish you luck, tiny human."
Her nose twitched as she finally processed the name. "Thanks . . . hey, sorry for almost killing you."
"Go, tiny human, before I eat you."
Eden's breath caught for a moment before she stiffly nodded and quickly moved passed the legendary beast.
It was without a conscious thought that the Cure of Ribbons was sent at the writhing bushes.
She lost track of the turns she took and the distance that she walked, but suddenly, there was a dull light in front of her as the light on the tip of her wand finally began to noticeably brighten.
She sped up as fast as she could with her injured ankle and burning side. She laughed slightly hysterically when she came upon the Cup. The relief, pain, and adrenaline made her more than slightly unhinged as she stared at the Cup, too shocked to do anything more productive.
Footsteps reached her ears after some time—after the adrenaline had begun to fade—and she stepped closer to the prize. She turned and smiled at Cedric.
"Potter?" he demanded incredulously, "you made it."
She sucked her lips into her mouth and bit down on them as disappointment filled her. Just when she thought—the locket heated against her chest. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence." He winced. "You know, this is what happens when you underestimate me. Everyone always does. My family. My brother. My professors. Even my friends." He looked guilty. Good. "I've only ever met one person who didn't underestimate me." She stroked the heated locket's chain. "In fact, many times he overestimated me. I guess that's what made me fall in love with him," she murmured to herself. She took a step back, and her heel brushed against the stone podium. "I guess if you wanted to win, you should have been a little bit faster."
She touched the handle of the Cup and was yanked away into darkness.
Cedric stared wide-eyed where the little girl—Potter—Eden—had been just moments before.
It wasn't his fault that it had taken him so long. The sphinx gave him a riddle that took him twenty minutes to answer, because it had five components, and each component needed to be solved in the right order to figure out the next answer and—
He flinched when the three heads of the school apparated around him a few seconds later, just as they had been briefed would happen. Apparently one of the Champions had severe Magical Motion Sickness, and they couldn't turn the Cup into a portkey because of that. But—if that was true . . ..
"Where's the Cup?" Professor Dumbledore demanded after a moment, panic clear in his voice for the first time.
Cedric shook his head. "She touched the Cup . . . and then . . . then she was gone."
Little Hangleton Graveyard
Eden came to with a harsh pain in her stomach, and the air knocked out of her. She lay on the ground and gasped like a fish out of water as she attempted to get air into her body. The familiar nausea hit, and she pushed herself to her hands and knees and puked what was in her stomach. Black spots filled her vision, and it was only due to a nearly invisible spell hitting her from the left that she was able to breathe once more.
She breathed deeply for a moment before she scrambled for her wand and quickly stood and started to look around.
Why was she in a graveyard?
She shook her head from pain and residual nausea and pressed her right hand against her right temple. A sticky warmth registered beneath her palm. She hesitantly pulled her hand away and looked at it through swaying vision.
Whose blood was that?
Was it her own? Someone else's? Something else's?
She slowly turned at the sound of a creaking door and raised her wand. It trembled in her grasp, and she'd be lucky if she could land a stinging hex with how bad it shook. She ignored the slight groan and sharp intake of breath somewhere to her left, and the faint sound of violent rattling.
"Who are you?" she demanded in a weak, unfamiliar voice.
"My dear Noah, how good it is to see you again after so long," he simpered.
"Wormy?" she coughed. She was too overwhelmed with everything and concerned about the sleeping greenish-gray thing he held in his arms to put up a fight about the name. "What in—" She broke into a fierce coughing fit. "—what in Merlin's name are you holding?" She gazed at the baby-like creature in horror. "Never mind . . .. I don't think I want to know." Her voice was raw and gravelly, and she broke into another coughing fit that had the world around her swaying with stars in her eyes. She shook her head and looked at the man. "What are you doing here? I thought you were dead. We all did."
"I am serving my M-Master," he informed her.
"That baby thing?" she softly asked with a sneer. It was gross. "He doesn't seem like much of a Master to me."
He said nothing; only looked behind her before he nodded. She turned and was greeted with a stunner that threw her back into a gravestone.
She didn't have time to feel betrayed.
He stared at his daughter and breathed deeply before he picked up her limp form. He was going to be sick. If he weren't as familiar with her magic as he was, he wouldn't've been able to recognize her she was so covered in dirt, blood, and—was that ash?
"Restrain her," his Lord commanded after he awoke.
He did as he was told, and unseen by those in his company, kissed her forehead, and tucked some loose hair behind her ear. Which of those horrid creatures had she faced while in there?
He stroked the locket-portkey that hung against her clothed chest and bit back the tears as he carefully tucked it away and cast a weak notice-me-not on it.
Once his Lord was at full power, he would notice anything stronger than weak.
He pressed his wand against her side. "Vulnera Sanentur—" Before he could start the chant, and thus the true healing of the wound, he was interrupted.
"Is something wrong? Is she giving you troubles?" Pettigrew sneered.
He stepped away and glared at the man as another apparated in. He must have cast the same spells on those around them so his presence wouldn't be missed. He met the man's eyes. They know she's gone. He dropped the spells that kept him connected to everyone at the Quidditch pitch watching the Third Task.
"No. I was healing her," he answered, "I assumed that she's needed to be living in order to be useful."
He couldn't make the words as acerbic as he desired.
Merlin, his daughter—
His Master spoke before Pettigrew or Crouch could.
"Well done, Severus, my most faithful."
So, I really hope you guys liked it. I love you, and I can't wait to read what you guys think about it. By the way, every time you guys said it was James with Voldemort, I'd cackle and dance in joy. I also really loved reading how you guys justified who you thought it was, and I loved reading those who kept switching between James and Severus, and for those who got it right, you have no IDEA how hard it was not to congratulate you.