Butterfly Effect ; H. Potter

46. flesh, blood, and bone.

Antheia's eyes adjusted to the darkness. Where was she?

Her last memory was rushing up to her dormitory before the third task started. Where she was now didn't look like Hogwarts. She couldn't hear the cheers of the students before the task had started. She was lying in a small dark area of dirt. It occurred to her that her head was ringing.

She got up and looked around. Nothing particularly stood out to her. There were a few headstones and she started to walk over to them when she heard a whirl behind her.

"Where are we?" a voice said. She turned around and saw: Harry? But why was Harry here, and, again, why was she? She narrowed her eyes and realized Cedric was also standing beside him, both of them clutching the gleaming Triwizard Cup. But if this was an obstacle in the Triwizard Tournament, why weren't Fleur and Krum there as well?

"Harry? Cedric?" said Antheia finally. She noticed her voice was quite hoarse and her throat ached when she spoke.

Harry whipped around, holding out his wand. "Antheia? Why are you here? Is this supposed to be part of the task?"

"I don't think so," said Antheia. "If so, why would I even be here? And where's Fleur and Krum? Is that the Triwizard Cup?"

"It's a long story," said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

They pulled out their wands. Antheia grasped Harry's hand which, she noticed, was very cold. She had the strange feeling that they were being watched.

"This is not what I meant when I said 'to hell and back'," whispered Antheia to Harry. He held onto her hand even tighter.

"Someone's coming," Harry said suddenly.

Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily towards them between the graves. Antheia couldn't make out a face; but from the way it was walking, and holding its arms, she could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever they were, they were short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over their head to obscure their face. And - several paces nearer, the space between them closing all the time - she saw that the thing in the person's arms looked like a baby ... or was it merely a bundle of robes?

Antheia, Harry, and Cedric all shot each other quizzical looks. They turned back to watch the approaching figure.

It stopped beside the towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second, Harry, Cedric, Antheia, and the short figure simply looked at each other.

And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all, his head was about to split open.

Antheia stood in front of Harry in hopes of shielding him from whatever was approaching. From far away, she heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare."

A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!"

A blast of green light blazed through Antheia's eyelids, and he heard something heavy fall to the ground beside her. She looked to her side right away.

Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside them. He was dead.

For a second that contained an eternity, Antheia and Harry stared into Cedric's face, at his open grey eyes, blank and expressionless as the windows of a deserted house, at his half-open mouth, which looked slightly surprised. Antheia simply couldn't believe it. The same Cedric she had seen glowing with excitement and slight worry a few hours earlier was now on the floor beside them, defeated and gone. Before her mind had accepted what she was seeing, before either her or Harry could feel anything but numb disbelief, they felt themselves being pulled to their feet.