I step back from the grave, looking upwards and nearly giving myself a heart attack before I realize it's only a statue.
It stands beside the grave, as if to protect it. It's skull and ribcage are eerily visible, the rest covered by a cloak. Large, angel-like wings poke up at its back and in its right arm it carries a scythe above its head, as if it's ready to strike at any given moment.
"I've been here before," I say once more. "In a dream."
And then I remember the context of the dream, and then I remember that nowhere in that dream was Cedric Diggory just gallivanting along in the background.
"Cedric!"
He startles me as he joins me at my side, glancing up at the statue himself. I shake my head and urgently push him towards the port-key. "You have to get back. Now!"
"What?" He questions my growing concern. "What are you talking about?"
"Go," I plead, struggling for any more words than that. "You have to go."
"Well, not without you," he replies, confused as to why I'd even suggest such a thing.
"Cedric!" I exclaim frustratedly.
There isn't a chance I've got the time to set him aside and to explain the severity of the situation, the danger that the two of us are in. And if he did, I highly doubt that a) he'd even believe me and b) he'd leave me here to deal with it on my own.
That's when I notice, in the midst of the clearing I hadn't realized we were in, sits a large cauldron. Maybe ten times the size of the ones we use in potions. Big enough to hold a person even.
"You need to leave now."
"Harry, what's going on?"
"Not Harry!" I finally give in, exasperated.
"y/n. We switched places, we used the Polyjuice Potion. Cedric you're not meant to be here, I wouldn't have-you're just- you can't be here!"
"But why?" Cedric looks at me as if I'm some escaped crazy person from St. Mungos and quite frankly I don't blame him.
A creaking door silences the both of us and we turn our attention to the other end of the clearing. From the shadows comes a rat that I've seen multiple times before.
Peter Pettigrew.
He cradles something in his arms and I squint my eyes to see what it is, though I've got a pit at the bottom of my stomach that seems to already have its assumptions.
I grasp onto Cedric whining impatiently while desperately shaking his sleeve, like a child at the supermarket when their mum refuses to buy them candy.
"Please leave," I whisper.
"Not without you," he restates, shaking me off his forearm and raising his wand defensively. "Who are you?" He demands despite my protests. "What do you want?"
The voice is weak, yet powerful enough to scatter goosebumps over my skin. "Kill the spare."
Time moves in slow motion, yet the whole thing happens in the blink of an eye. Before I can even process what's happening, I look with wide eyes up at Cedric. My mind screams at me to do something, anything.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"NO!"
The sparks emit from Pettigrew's wand shooting straight towards its target. It's too late.
♀the. . . girl? who competed part 3
Start from the beginning
