Chapter XVII:

"Why would he do that?" Hermione exclaimed in disbelief.

"You died, Hermione… A rock must have hit you, and… Oh my god…" Harry fell to his knees and moaned in agony like never before. His best friend was gone, truly gone. It happened all so very fast. Harry looked around with watery eyes. The Diggorys' happiness had disappeared when they too realized that Mrs. Diggory was gone. The sacrifice was too great.

"But, there's a way to bring him back, right?" Hermione asked, her voice shrieking. "There's got to be a way! Come on, Harry, I won't give up on him."

"He's in there, Hermione…" Harry pointed to the Mirror. "I don't think breaking it would free him."

Hermione drew her wand and pointed it at the rock that had killed her. Red spots of blood still dripped of its side. She used an incantation that Harry could not hear. She must have been practicing her spells internally. Suddenly the rock lifted as if it had no weight and flew into the Mirror.

A bubble protecting the Mirror forced the rock to stop in its place and fall down to the dirty floor. Hermione did not seem fazed by this failure. Instead, she ran straight forward, as if she was going to go inside the Mirror to bring him back.

"Stop it!" Harry yelled.

The same force field flung Hermione three steps back. Hermione rolled over and sobbed into the dirt. Her snot flowed into the brown dirt, creating clumps of goo around her face.

Amos Diggory looked at his son, and then at the young wizards crying over the loss of their friend. "This isn't right…"

"Why did you bring me back, father?" Cedric asked with his charming smile. He looked just as handsome as he had when he was killed by Lord Voldemort.

"You were not supposed to die!" Amos yelled.

"It was my time," Cedric replied.

"No! You don't understand. It really wasn't…"

Amos ran his fingers through his boys brown locks and sighed. "When you were a baby, my dear boy, a gypsy approached you. We were at a carnival, and you were only so small. She was determined to make some sort of reading for you. I dared not hesitate. You don't argue with a gypsy. They use some dark magic that's quite nasty.

"Anyway, she looked into your eyes and said that you were special."

"But I did do great things when I was alive, father. Couldn't you just accept that?"

"Let me finish… There was something in particular you were supposed to do in life. On this very day, you were supposed to 'bring the savior back'. I assumed this meant you were to save someone like Harry Potter. That's why I came here, to bring you back. But instead… Oh…"

"What savior?" Cedric asked. "Mother has sacrificed herself to bring me back for nothing. Harry Potter is right here."

"Maybe you were to bring back Ron," Harry said. "Or my parents. Or Sirius! Maybe only you could bring someone whose dead back."

"I'll try."

Cedric approached the Mirror, stepping over Hermione who wept horribly into the ground. She refused to move, in denial that anything could be done.

Cedric lingered his fingers in front of the mirror. The force field that had protected was no longer there. But for some reason, as Cedric tried to push into it harder, the mirror still refused to let him in.

"Oh my God, I've got it!" Harry yelled. "Hermione, get up, and join Cedric!"

"What?" Hermione's face rolled over as she stared at Harry.

"The Mirror! It's not about bringing back the dead at all! The Mirror is for lost souls, those who are not supposed to be dead! Cedric, you were not supposed to die because of some prophesy."

"What about me?" Hermione wailed. "I came back, and I was dead. I'm not a lost soul."

"You weren't dead," Harry said. "Ron took your body into the Mirror. But the Mirror is not a place for dead bodies. Only souls who are trapped in another place…"

"But Harry… What about Ron? Why didn't he come back? He's not a lost soul! Even if there needs to be a sacrifice to bring back a lost soul, like Mrs. Diggory did, then Ron should be back. I wasn't dead! He didn't need to sacrifice himself!"

Amos Diggory grew paler as the conversation continued. "My word…. Look."

The Mirror had been swirling with reds and purples. A storm brewed inside. The room grew chillingly quiet and cold in anticipation of who or what would step through.

"Ron did sacrifice himself… He intended it to be you, Hermione, but you weren't dead…" Harry said.

"Then who?"

Harry, still in a surreal mournful state, was guilty of his excitement. It could be Sirius or his parents; they could be the saviors.

"You…" Amos Diggory exclaimed, recognizing a figure's form smoking out of the Mirror.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked, her eyes blurred and barely able to see the male figure. It was not Sirius or Harry's father James.

"Thomas Riddle," Harry whispered.

"That's right. Who are you?"

Harry forgot; he only saw Tom Riddle Senior in his dreams, how his son, now Lord Voldemort, had killed him.

"Lord Voldemort's father is our savior! Rubbish!" Cedric yelled.

"Lord? Where am I?" Thomas asked dumbfounded.

"You're in the future… And here because my friend sacrificed his life for you…."