The wind was cold, it was summer, but it was cold. Harry stood along the edge of the lake, behind the congregation of badgers. It was a sad day, the funeral of the Hogwarts Champion had just ended. The real Hogwarts Champion. Harry felt that it should have ended differently. Cedric should not have died because of his stupidity, but no, he had to open his mouth and ask Cedric to take the portkey Cup with him, at the same time, leading him directly into his death.Fuck.

This was all Harry could think of whenever he had nothing to think about. He looked up towards the large clouds billowing with those icy gusts. He cycled his thoughts from one scenario to the next, cursing himself for not thinking about obvious solutions-

"Mr. Potter." A voice behind him spoke softly.

Harry pulled his somber gaze from the sky and faced a short lady with long, black robes and a sequined hat. He had met her before. Amos followed behind her with a clearly irritated expression that he failed to mask.

"Hi, er, sorry," he mumbled, "I'm sorry." He shifted uncomfortably, his nervousness clearly pushing forward. Amos narrowed his eyes at Harry, clearly he felt Harry had deserved to die and was grudging him. But "ignore him" Hermione had said, so Harry tried his best.

"There is nothing that you could have done," Mrs. Diggory said with splotchy eyes, "again, I am grateful to you for bringing his… body back. And should you ever need anything, anything at all, write to me." With that, she smiled, turned heel and drifted off amongst the crowd of mourners. Amos, appearing somewhat concerned, gave a slight nod in Harry's direction and then followed suit.

Harry felt relieved, now that he was back to his own thoughts and troubles. He looked up towards the castle, this had been his home for the past four years. Would it be easier to just run away? The Dursleys wouldn't care at all.

All around him, people were sad, and this sorrow seeped into him, nothing could be worse. He brought his gaze back down and noticed the people were slowly making their way to the Castle, either for warmth or to floo home. Professor Dumbledore arranged for the fireplace in the Great Hall to be connected to the Floo Network for the day.

As he started walking toward the castle, he heard a stifled sob. A swath of blonde hair falling over black robes with green trimmings greeted Harry's eyes. He wondered who it was. Most likely Greengrass, she had been in potions with him and helped him out of a few Snape scrapes. Uncharacteristic of a Slytherin.

"Hey," Harry said softly as he slowly made his way towards her, " are you okay?"

The blonde haired girl turned her head skowly towards him as if annoyed but her shoulders tensed when she realized who it was. "Potter… I'm sorry I didn't see you there. I will go –" she turned to leave.

"No." Harry said, a little too quickly for his own liking, "I mean, you don't have to go." He spoke slowly and carefully this time.

"Why." She asked quizzically?

"I mean…" He began, "nothing." Defeat. Dishonor. Death. This time he made to leave and closed his eyes in embarrassment mid-turn when he felt a hand grasp his left forearm. "Stay."

Unsure of what to do, he opened his eyes in amazement. Didn't Slytherins stay away from the lions as a general rule of wand? What if the wrong people saw them.

"How did you know Cedric?" Harry asked tentatively. Was this someone he could talk to without bias or were his fears about snakes going to be realized…

"He used to help me with Charms in the library," Greengrass began to explain, "he was excellent at Charms, obviously, but he was also a good friend. Someone who would listen and be able to converse in a mature manner, ironically not what most pureblood wizards are capable of." Her face appeared miffed at her own statement. She looked toward the lessening throng of mourners. Dumbledore was shaking hands and saying goodbye to whoever passed him on their way to the castle. His gaze landed upon the pair. Concern.

Crack!

Everyone started screaming.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Masked figures were appearing on all sides of the crowd. Beams of light, different colors, flew in all directions but Harry felt something. He was drawn to it. Part of him wanted to run for the hills yet another yearned to go closer. He turned in the direction he felt while pulling Greengrass behind him protectively.

Harry looked at a figure rising from the lake. Bone dry. No hair. White wand. Slitted features. .

"Harry…" Voldemort ignored the screams and faints of those fleeing him. He raised his wand at the now armed teenager.

"Nobody runs away from me like a coward," he hissed, "now die. AVADA KEDA-"

Gold light flashed, blinding him as he felt arms wrap around his torse, feeling Greengrasses body press against his body, and willed that his life be taken instead of hers.

Blackness.