Griffin Blakes is your average teenage witch attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She is a lot of things... but sneaky is not one of them. So what is she going to tell her three best friends when she starts to fall for the enemy? An...
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{Griffin}
THE FIRE danced with grace and beauty. I stared at its flames blankly, their movements calming me down. I had lost track of the time but my eyes felt heavy, whether that was from crying or the late night hours. Hermione and Ron sat on the red sofa behind me, speaking amongst themselves as we waited for Harry to get back from Professor Dumbledore's office.
After what felt like forever, the Fat Lady portrait finally swung open and we were greeted by a scruffy-looking Harry. I glanced up for the first time since arriving at the Gryffindor Tower.
"What took so long?" Hermione asked, immediately running up to hug him.
"Professor Moody wasn't Professor Moody," Harry stated grimly, hugging her back.
My energy returned like a slap to the face. "What?" I asked, a shiver running down my spine.
"He was drinking a polyjuice potion all year. It was Barty Crouch Junior, Mr. Crouch's son. He escaped from Azkaban and has been working to help Voldemort return," he frowned, walking over and sitting on the carpet next to me. I was utterly shocked.
So that's what was so off about him, I knew it...
"Well," Hermione thought for a moment, taking her seat back next to Ron, "this is good, right? He's been caught and sent back?"
"It's too late," Harry shook his head. "Voldemort is back. The Triwizard Tournament was a trap from the very beginning. A scheme to get me to the graveyard tonight."
We all stayed silent for a moment before I had the courage to ask, "Harry, what happened? At that graveyard?"
He looked down and I could tell thinking about it brought him pain. "Cedric and I decided to touch the Triwizard Cup together, only it was a Portkey. As soon as we touched it, we were transported right to Tom Riddle's grave."
Ron reached for the fourth mug of hot chocolate that was untouched on the table, whispering a spell that heated up its temperature. "Here, mate," he offered the drink to Harry, who took it gladly.
"Then what, Harry?" Hermione asked carefully.
After a few sips of his chocolate, he continued. "I recognized it from my dreams and knew something was wrong. I told Cedric to get back to the cup..." he trailed off, glancing at me.
I nodded, "It's fine, keep going." I needed to hear this. I wanted to know what happened to Cedric.
"He was confused, and then," Harry's face hardened, "Peter Pettigrew came out."
Ron cringed and took a long sip of his hot chocolate.
"My scar started to hurt like crazy, and Peter... he used the killing curse."
I felt a tear escape my eye and quickly wiped it off. I could cry tomorrow, and perhaps the following day, but not any more tonight. Tonight I had to hold myself together. For Harry's sake.
