The day of the Third Task finally arrived.
Angelina looked up to see Lucius Malfoy walking away from the crowd. He clutched his arm as though it hurt. Perhaps, she was bored. There was nothing for them to do but wait for the winner to touch the TriWizard Cup and come out of the maze. There was nothing for them to watch so mainly everyone just socialized. After having to watch that beastly Hufflepuff, Crystal, come over to flirt with Fred right in front of her, Angelina moved away. She talked to Cho and her friends for a bit; Ginny came up to join her, and asked her straight out why she and Fred weren't together. Ginny seemed to take after Fred with the subtlety.
When Angelina finally saw her uncle Luke, she went after him. She was still angry with him after their last interaction, and he never even told her that he would be here. And how did he hurt his arm? Something seemed off. She followed him as he left the pitch, and looked as though he was making to leave the grounds of the school entirely. What on earth was going on? Why would he be leaving in the middle of the Final Task? This was where they would name the TriWizard Champion. This whole thing was too strange. As he got near Hargrid's hut he clutched his arm again and began to pull at the sleeve of his robes. Angelina moved closer to him and as she turned the corner, she saw it. It was right there. Her eyes opened wide at seeing the skull and the snake branded on his forearm.
"No!" She let escape.
Lucius looked up in surprise. "Ina, what are you doing here." He saw the expression on her face. Damn. She had always been the more difficult one of the two. Draco could always be bullied into submission. He stepped forward and reached for her. "Let me explain-" He began.
"No." She stepped back in horror. "Don't touch me."
"I do not have time to patronize you right now."
"All this time?" Angelina said shaking her head in disbelief. "All this time you have been a-a Death Eater? You really are one of them."
Lucius' arm burned again. The Dark Lord was calling him and he was here talking to a temperamental little girl. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the wood where they could not be seen. "Look, Angelina you are seventeen. You are being Bewitched in less than a month. It is time for you to grow up." He said harshly. His voice still didn't raise but it sounded so cold and cruel. He'd never used that tone with her before. It was frightening.
Angelina tried to rid herself of his grasp. He clenched down on her wrist and she gasped from the pain. "How could you?"
"How could I?" He said dragging her forward deeper into the wood. "It is simple nature: the strong dominate over the weak. You are no longer a child. If the Dark Lord is truly back, this Griffindor game that you are playing, and associating with Mudbloods and Bloodtraitors is over. It is time you made a decision and chose your destiny. You are a superior race. It is time you started acting like one."
"You're horrible. All this time—you're horrible."
He thrust her forward releasing her.
Angelina just looked at him in disgust, in horror, as he turned and walked away, his robes billowing behind him. Her chest hurt and her breathing was hard and fast. How could this be true? How could it be that he was a Death Eater all this time? What did this mean? Perhaps, he was wrong. Perhaps, You-Know-Who was not back. She stood staring into the dark at the ghost of Lucius Malfoy after he departed. She began walking back toward the pitch in a daze. Did that just really happen? No. Perhaps, she misunderstood it all. Of course she did. She must have. There must be some confusion on her part or something. Something must be wrong. Uncle Luke was probably just in a nark and took it out on her. It probably didn't mean anything at all. But, where was he going in such a hurry? It didn't matter. It didn't mean anything.
"All right?"
"Huh?" Angelina looked up to see George standing before her. He looked concerned. Still clutching her wrist, she looked around realizing she was back in the stands. She must have been lost in her own thoughts. "Yeah, yeah sure."
"You sure?" He asked. "Because, you look a bit unsettled."
"Um," It was then Angelina finally looked around. She walked forward over the railing looking to the pitch. Dumbledore, Magonogall, Snape, and the other Proffessors stood before the maze in deep discussion. "What's going on?"
"Well, that's the problem now isn't it?" Fred answered appearing beside her.
"What?" She said looking back at him. "Did anyone reach the cup?"
"I don't know." Fred said shrugging his shoulders.
"We saw the light go up," Ginny joined them from behind. "But, no one's come out."
"Oh." Angelina said with an unexpected knot in her stomach.
They all stood there staring out onto the maze for what felt like hours. Finally, there was a shock of white light and Harry and Cedric landed before them, as if by Portkey. The crowd went wild as everyone cheered on the new TriWizard Champions. It was great. Both, Cedric and Harry had won. It was a tie. Both, Hogwarts Champions had won. Some people started a chorus of the school song. There would be no fighting between houses today, no 'Potter Stinks' or anything of the kind. This was a full on Hogwarts victory. They would party in the Great Hall tonight with all four houses—even Slytherin—celebrating their classmates' victory. Confetti and fireworks and Hogwarts flags were flying in the air.
But, something was wrong. Something seemed off somehow and slowly that realization began spreading through the crowd. Harry wasn't celebrating. He'd just won the TriWizard Tournoment and he didn't get up and start cheering or yelling or anything. All, he did was hold on to Cedric's body. Cedric's body? Why wasn't Cedric celebrating either? He'd won too, right? Why wasn't he celebrating? Why wasn't he moving at all? He wasn't moving at all. Why wasn't Cedric moving? Why was he just lying there? Somewhere, somebody screamed. Dumbledore tried to pull Harry off of Cedric's body but crying Harry refused to let go. He looked so desperate. Some one else screamed. Angelina gasped as her hand went to her mouth. Harry yelled something and the name Voldermort rippled through the crowd. Cho had dropped to her knees in tears and was being comforted by her friends. A shiver went down Angelina's spine, and she couldn't breathe. No. No, it was not possible. Cedric? Not Cedric. She just saw him. She just gave him a hug and wished him luck. Cedric's father finally made his way down to the pitch throwing himself on Cedric's body. His body? It really was just his body now wasn't it? He really was gone. Was he really gone? Voldermort?
Professor Moody began dragging Harry away, towards the castle.
"No, no Cedric." Angelina was hyperventilating. Her left hand was still flushed to her mouth and her right was out, hovering, grasping at thin air. What was she grabbing for? She felt a hand envelop hers and an arm around her waist. She was pulled toward them. She laid her head of Fred's chest never for a moment questioning who it was. She knew it was Fred. It could only be Fred. Fred pulled her closer too him and wrapped his arms around her. The stands became eerily silent but for the sobs of mourning. Angelina still could not breathe. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. She suddenly felt very cold. She was sick. Lord Voldermort? Back? The Dark Mark? And, uncle Luke—no Lucius—leaving so abruptly. The Dark Mark? That's how he called them, right? No. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be. It couldn't be true. It wasn't true. She ripped herself from Fred's arms and ran back towards the castle ignoring his cries behind her.
The wind was cool on her tears as she ran through the grounds. She did not go to the castle directly. Somewhere in her mind, she thought she would be able to find Lucius—uncle Luke—and he would assure her that everything was fine, or at least that he had nothing to do with any of it. But, she didn't. The students were all ordered back to their houses but Angelina had already left by then. She couldn't go back to Griffindor Tower now. She wanted to get away. She needed cool, fresh air. She couldn't be around her friends. Cedric couldn't be dead. That couldn't be true. It just couldn't. She sat, with her head pressed against the cool stone of the castle, even after it began to rain. There was something about being this high above everything else that was calming. There was something about the cold rain hitting her face, something about being soaked to the core, something about being so cold and so wet and so numb.