111. Prior Incantatum

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Ellis quickly followed the other Death Eaters as they rushed after Voldemort and Harry, quickly reforming their circle around them. As he was rushing there, Ellis suddenly caught sight of a body on the ground. In the flash of light of the duel, he recognized him as Cedric Diggory, the same boy he had just told a few hours before that only the fully-grown Blast-Ended Skrewt could kill him. He got in his place in the circle a half second after everyone else, but they were all too shocked and in awe to notice.

A sound started, the most beautiful sound Ellis had ever heard in his life. What is was, however, only Harry had recognized. Phoenix song. Then, the sound was instantly replaced with another. Shrieking screams suddenly echoed through the graveyard, seeming to come from Voldemort's wand. But even more shocking than that was when Ellis saw first a shadowy hand and then a full body leave the tip of Voldemort's wand. It was Cedric Diggory.

A great, spindling dome of gold surrounded them now.

"Hold on, Harry," Cedric said as more screams rose up, followed by an old man Ellis didn't recognize.

"He was a real wizard, then?" the old man said in surprise, admiring the magic before him. "Killed me, that one did...You fight him, boy..."

A woman came next, who said, "Don't let go now! Don't let him get you, Harry - don't let go!"

A second woman appeared. She was beautiful with long hair and a shining smile. "Your father's coming," she promised. Hold on for your father...It will be all right...Hold on..."

As she was speaking, another man came through. When he saw him clearly, Ellis instantly saw the resemblance to Harry.

Anything more that was said was inaudible, but just then, Harry shouted, "NOW!"

Almost instantly, the golden cage broke. Instantly, Harry broke into a run, disappearing into the cemetery, Voldemort and the other Death Eaters following behind. Ellis tore after them.

.

Althea glanced behind her cautiously as she moved away from the edge of the stands where she'd been hovering, making her way toward Hagrid's cabin. There, she found exactly what she was looking for. Hiding in the pumpkin patch sat a large black dog and an abnormally large sparrowhawk. At the sight of her, they both instantly gave her their full attention, the sparrowhawk taking flight and landing on the rail in front of her.

"No news at all," Althea admitted, looking anxious. "Fleur and Krum already opted out, but we don't know where Harry or Cedric are."

Before she could say more, however, a sudden uproar distracted her. Turning, she heard rather than saw hundreds of screams and cries spring up from the stands. Looking back at Amara and Sirius, she began to make her way there before Hermione ran up to her, looking about five shades paler than normal.

"What happened?" Althea demanded.

"Harry- oh-" Hermione whispered, her voice breaking.

"Hermione, what happened to him!" Althea shouted, clutching onto her hands so tightly Hermione stopped crying.

"Cedric's dead," Hermione whispered.

Athea released a shaky breath, staring into Hermione's face in disbelief. She desperately wished Hermione would suddenly cry, "HA! Got you!"

But it didn't happen. This was not a joke. It wasn't a prank. It wasn't a dream.

"Dead," she repeated, her voice equally as soft. "A-And Harry?"

She was terrified of the answer.

"He's okay, I think, but...he was covered in blood, and...he was clutching Cedric's body and he was bleeding and- Oh, Thea!" Hermione wailed, embracing her as she began to sob.

Althea comforted her for as long as she thought was appropriate before she pulled away, turning back toward her godparents.

.

Amara was pacing around Dumbledore's office, biting her lip anxiously. Sirius was walking in circles. All Althea had been able to tell them before Dumbledore brought them here was that a boy, not Harry, was dead.

The moment the door opened, Amara, catching sight of Harry, instantly embraced him. He was shaking and clung to her as tightly as she did him. Sirius wrapped his arms around both. Harry held onto them both tightly. He was tired. Merlin was he tired. But still, he felt like he was watching a reel through another person's eyes. Nothing that happened felt real. It must have all been a dream, right? He would wake up in a moment and realize he hadn't gone through the third task yet.

"Harry, are you all right?" Sirius asked quickly, helping Harry into one of the chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk. "I knew it - I knew something like this - what happened?"

"Sirius," Amara said softly, shaking her head slightly.

"What happened?" Sirius asked more urgently, ignoring Amara.

In a quiet voice, Dumbledore began to explain, "Moody was being impersonated by Barty Crouch Jr."

Amara and Sirius shared dark looks. In a quiet voice, Dumbledore explained everything he had learned from Barty Crouch Jr. He explained how his father had been convinced by his wife to trade their places, how he had been living as a prisoner for the years since, how Voldemort saved him and turned his father into the prisoner instead, how he killed his father when he had shown up on the grounds, attacking Krum in the process, and how he had turned the cup into a portkey.

When he had finished, he sat down across from Harry as he said, "I need to know what happened after you touched the portkey in the maze, Harry."

"We can leave that till morning, can't we Dumbledore?" Sirius protested, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Let him have sleep. Let him rest."

Ignoring him, Amara crouched in front of Harry, resting one of her hands on his own. Harry met her gaze slightly unwillingly.

"Harry," she said gently. "I know this is hard. I know all you want to do is sit in a corner and be left alone until you don't have to feel any of this anymore. I understand, but we need to know what happened. Once you tell us, you don't ever have to talk about it again if you don't want to." When he still said nothing, she added, "I know this sounds insane, but it'll be easier to talk about it right now than it will any other time after this. Trust me, Harry."

At long last, Harry began to talk. As he spoke, it became clear that he wasn't talking to Dumbledore. He wasn't talking to Sirius. He wasn't even talking to the floor, which he was staring so transfixedly at. He was talking to Amara. She hadn't moved from her position crouched by his side. She had taken both his hands in her own. Her heart broke in her chest as she listened to the horrors her godson had been forced to endure, but she kept quiet, listening to his story.

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