Harry looked up. He was alone on the hilltop. Everything was yellow and bronze and hot. Dry grass crackled beneath his body as he pulled himself to his feet. Where were the others? The shoe had been a Portkey, but where were the others? They should have been with him.
He looked down the hill. Ahead of him lay a vast stone maze and through that, a towering castle that wavered in the heat. Where was the Quidditch World Cup? Shouldn't there be people, somewhere, anywhere? He remembered- he'd touched the Portkey at the same time as all the others. Or had he?
Something settled on his shoulder and bit through his T-shirt. He smacked it away and looked at it. A tiny fairy, all delicate wings and soft hair and pointed teeth. There was a tree behind him. A gnarled, leafless tree, old and brown. In amongst the branches sat a clock, one that showed thirteen hours instead of twelve. The hands showed it was a minute past thirteen.
'Hello?' he called tentatively. There was no reply- only the hissing noise of wind and a giggle from the fairy on the ground. Harry felt for his wand. It was still there, in his pocket. Good. He might need it if something happened. Perhaps this was some horrible trick he mind was playing on him- or worse still, something concocted by Wormtail. Harry had seen him in his dream- perhaps it hadn't been a dream, but a vision. Was it possible that Voldemort's slimy sycophant had actually made his way back to his master and had done something to get Harry here?
If so, where was he? Where was anyone? The fairy had flown away and the entire landscape seemed devoid of life. He tried to think. He had no idea how to apparate, and he didn't have his broomstick with him. Harry was pretty sure there was a spell to bring things to you- Hermione had mentioned it- but he didn't know if it would work over such a long distance. So how on earth was he going to get out of here?
'Harry!' someone said behind him. He whirled around. It was Cedric. The handsome blonde-haired boy was smiling nervously at him- but it wasn't Cedric who caught Harry's attention. It was the tall man standing beside the Hufflepuff seeker who Harry stared at. The man had a cruel smile, and strange eyes. Despite the heat of the day he was dressed in a long coat, silver and scaled like armour.
'Who are you?'
'My name is Jareth. Ruler of the Goblin City and the Labyrinth.' The King's arm was clamped possessively around Cedric's waist. Harry noticed this, and frowned.
'What do you want with him?'
'Why, to keep him, foolish boy.' Jareth stroked Cedric's hair and smiled. 'He'll make a pretty addition to my chamber.' Cedric's face was blank and unsmiling. He remained still and didn't try to escape the Goblin King's grasp.
'Let him go!' Harry commanded. Jareth smirked.
'No, I'll keep him. He is lovely, isn't he?'
'Give him back! He's not yours to keep!' Harry was shouting now, at this handsome, arrogant stranger who had the presumption to speak of Cedric Diggory in that way.
'Oh, is he yours then? You'd like to rescue him, would you?' Jareth's smirk was much more pronounced now. Harry said nothing. Cedric looked down at the ground. The wind blew again, throwing dirt into Harry's eyes so that he looked away, blinking rapidly. When he looked back, Jareth and Cedric were a fading image, blending into the tree. Jareth's arm was still around Cedric's waist.
'You have thirteen hours in which to solve the Labyrinth before your…friend…becomes mine forever. Such a pity.' The words faded into the air like the two men and Harry bit back a sob. He looked down the hill again. The Labyrinth began at those gates. Behind him, the clock showed it was ten minutes past thirteen o'clock.
He began walking.