Emma Potter

118: Hold On. . .

At once, Voldemort's wand began to emit echoing screams ofpain . . . then — Voldemort's red eyes widened with shock — adense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished . . . theghost of the hand he had made Wormtail . . . more shouts ofpain . . . and then something much larger began to blossom fromVoldemort's wand tip, a great, grayish something, that looked asthough it were made of the solidest, densest smoke. . . . It was ahead . . . now a chest and arms . . . the torso of Cedric Diggory.

 If ever I might have released my wand from shock, it wouldhave been then, but instinct kept me clutching my wand tightly,so that the thread of golden light remained unbroken, even thoughthe thick gray ghost of Cedric Diggory (was it a ghost? it looked so solid) emerged in its entirety from the end of Voldemort's wand, asthough it were squeezing itself out of a very narrow tunnel . . . andthis shade of Cedric stood up, and looked up and down the goldenthread of light, and spoke. 

"Hold on, Harry,Emma" it said.

 Its voice was distant and echoing. I looked at Voldemort . . . his wide red eyes were still shocked . . . he had no moreexpected this than we had . . . and, very dimly, I heard thefrightened yells of the Death Eaters, prowling around the edges ofthe golden dome. . . .More screams of pain from the wand . . . and then somethingelse emerged from its tip . . . the dense shadow of a second head,quickly followed by arms and torso . . . an old man I had seenonly in a dream was now pushing himself out of the end of thewand just as Cedric had done . . . and his ghost, or his shadow, orwhatever it was, fell next to Cedric's, and surveyed Harry, me andVoldemort, and the golden web, and the connected wands, withmild surprise, leaning on his walking stick. . . . 

"He was a real wizard, then?" the old man said, his eyes onVoldemort. "Killed me, that one did. . . . You fight him, kids. . . ." 

But already, yet another head was emerging . . . and this head,gray as a smoky statue, was a woman's. . . . I, both arms shaking now as I fought to keep my wand still, saw her drop to theground and straighten up like the others, staring. . . .The shadow of Bertha Jorkins surveyed the battle before her withwide eyes. 

"Don't let go, now!" she cried, and her voice echoed like Cedric'sas though from very far away. "Don't let him get you, Harry , Emma—don't let go!"

She and the other two shadowy figures began to pace around theinner walls of the golden web, while the Death Eaters flitted aroundthe outside of it . . . and Voldemort's dead victims whispered asthey circled the duelers, whispered words of encouragement toHarry and me, and hissed words I couldn't hear to Voldemort. 

And now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemort's wand . . . and I knew when I saw it who it wouldbe . . . I knew, as though I had expected it from the momentwhen Cedric had appeared from the wand . . . knew, because thewoman was the one I'd thought of more than any othertonight. . . . 

The smoky shadow of a young woman with long hair fell to theground as Bertha had done, straightened up, and looked at us . . .and Harry and I,  arms shaking madly now, looked back into theghostly face of our mother. 

"Your father's coming . . ." she said quietly. "Hold on for yourfather . . . it will be all right . . . hold on. . . ." 

And he came . . . first his head, then his body . . . tall anduntidy-haired like Harry, the smoky, shadowy form of James Potterblossomed from the end of Voldemort's wand, fell to the ground,and straightened like his wife. He walked close to Harry and me, lookingdown at us, and he spoke in the same distant, echoing voice asthe others, but quietly, so that Voldemort, his face now livid withfear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear. . . . 

"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments . . . but we will give you time . . . you must get to thePortkey, it will return you to Hogwarts . . . do you understand,Harry, Emma?"