Everyone was cheering. Pandora was screaming. No one paid attention. She saw Harry stagger out of the maze, his legs weak and his arms full of Cedric Diggory's dead body. She watched as everyone realized what was going on, as the music stopped, as the cheers became screams, as everyone crowded, confused and scared. She looked down at her Dark Mark, alive and moving. It was time.
She saw Mad Eye Moody stumble over to Harry, gripping him by the neck and yanking him away. She found herself screaming his name, her voice hoarse and cracked. She clawed her way through the crowd, trying to get to him, to warn him; something she should've done long before. But the crowd swallowed her and he was gone. She reached out into thin air, her fingers trying to grasp the vanished boy that she had fallen in love with. Her efforts were futile. She knew all was lost. It was time.
Her mind filled with hysteria. She told herself she had to think clearly. She couldn't directly intervene; she knew that. But maybe, just maybe, she could lend a helping hand. She shoved her way through the masses, her eyes searching for someone specific. When she found him, she forced her way past the professors and adults trying to stop her and grabbed him by the robe, her eyes wild. He turned around, expecting someone of importance but only seeing her, this petite, blonde, Slytherin girl with wild eyes.
In one breath, she said, "You need to go find Harry." Dumbledore took one look at her disheveled appearance, the fear so apparent in her eyes, and opened his mouth to respond. But before he could, she held out her wrist. His eyes widened as he saw the active Dark Mark on her wrist. He nodded solemnly and left her standing in the crowd.
Harry was passed out in the hospital bed. Pandora silently padded over, spotting the black dog perched on his bed. The dog appeared as though it were standing guard; that was how she knew it wasn't merely any dog. She silently cast a spell to turn herself invisible. She knew she didn't have much time.
She didn't need him to wake up or even to tell her what had happened. She already knew, had known all along. She looked at his perfect, peaceful face as he slept. She had overheard the nurses saying he would be okay in time. But that wasn't reassuring. It just meant that she would have to see him again. He would want answers that she could not give. He would need her in a way that she could not provide.
She sat on the edge of his bed, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew that this was the last time she would most likely ever have with him. It was too dangerous now. It probably always had been. She ran a hand through his hair.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispered quietly, so that no one else but his unconscious mind could hear her. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the girl you needed and I'm sorry I couldn't love you the way I should. I'm sorry we will never get to be like this again. I'm sorry for all the promises I know I will break." She continued to run her hands through his hair and soon enough she was singing, low and soft. Even in his unconsciousness, Harry heard her. He couldn't decipher who she was. He began to stir. She felt him move and leaned over, gave him a soft kiss, then disparated. When he finally awoke, he thought about it for a moment, but just a moment. Then he determined it to be nothing more than a dream.
