the Linked Prophet

part one

Cedric hurried after me, still never leaving my side. "That makes sense I suppose." He decided. "After all, you were there that night too."

My stomach dropped slightly at his words, wanting so desperately to forget about that night. It was still ingrained in her memory like a film, every detail as clear as day. "Yeah, but the Dark Lord didn't leave me with a treacherous scar. I wasn't the one to defeat him." I told the boy.

He hesitated for a second before asking delicately, "How did you escape then? Surely, he went after you too."

I hesitated for a second, asking myself if I could actually trust the boy. He had never given me a reason not to I suppose, as he had always treated me with the greatest kindness. I paused and faced him once more. "When the Dark Lord cast the unforgivable curse at me it didn't actually hit me, but instead come in contact with my necklace." I told him, pulling the pendant out from the neck of my jumper.

Cedric reached down and took the base of the necklace in his hands, twisting the metal between his fingers. He leaned forwards to carefully analyzing the design. "It's the Potter family crest. My mother had shown it to me that night, only putting it on me to show my father. That's when, well, you know." I trailed off.

He nodded at my words and turned the pendant, looking at the scripture written on the back. Cedric looked up at me, his face only mere inches from my own. "What does it mean?" The boy asked.

"It's in Gaelic, so it says "Má bhíonn tú ag lorg cara gan locht, beidh tú gan chara go deo" which translates to "if you're searching for a friend without faults, you'll be without a friend forever." I like to think it's my parents telling me to see the good in everyone, even those who seem so incredibly troubled on the surface." I explained as he let go of the pendant, letting it fall softly against the hem on my jumper.

The man smiled down at me as he stood up straight. "That's lovely." He complimented, to which I responded with a grin. We continued to follow the others. "I don't suppose that's why you hang around with the Malfoy boy, it is?" Cedric joked.

I laughed and shoved his shoulder making him chuckle as well. "Oh, shove off, will you."

We approached the group ahead just in time to see them rushing up a hill into a clearing. The sound of Amos and Harry hurried behind us. Cedric leapt ahead to the group who huddled a small old boot on the ground. My brother neared me and if reading my mind he asked, "Why are they standing around that manky old boot?"

I looked at my brother with a matching blank expression. "I haven't the slightest idea, mate."

Fred and George rounded the two of us to head towards the shoe. "That isn't just any manky old boot, mate." Fred informed.

"It's a Portkey." George stated after his brother before they both went to stand between their siblings.

Mr. Weasley started barking orders to his children, carefully aligning them around the thing. "What's a Portkey?" Harry asked.

George looked back at me before reaching out and grabbing my hand that sat at my side. "Come on then." He shouted at me above the sound of the wind rushing around us. The boy yanked my hand down forcing me to collapse between him and Ginny. I fell with an 'oof' as he placed both mine and his hand on the side of the boot. I cringed but remained in my position.

As Amos started counting Arthur yelled, "Harry!" making the boy jump doing and join everyone in holding this boot. Harry's hand met the boot right as Amos shouted out "Three!". Within milliseconds the boot started spinning, us along with it. Hermione and Harry started screaming as it lifted us into the air at a rapid pace, as if our bodies were acting as a propeller for the object. George's free arm reached out across my back and his hand gripped my waist firmly, holding me in position beside his tall frame. The stench of the grimy shoe was overpowered by his scent, the aroma of delectable sweets and fire embers overwhelming my senses. It gave me a sense of comfort in that moment resulting in my attempts to scream going mute. He looked over at me with a bright smile which I reciprocated.