"Something's wrong."
Eliza looked up to see Pollux's expression had suddenly turned panicked, seeing furrowed brows where a second ago they were laughing and making jokes. She knew he was worried for Castor while she was in the maze, and she'd been trying to distract him while they waited for the last of the Champions to arrive. Fleur had arrived first, forfeiting her place in the final challenge. Viktor Krum had shown up not long after, his eyes still somewhat cloudy, and looking around as if he didn't know how he got back to the crowd-filled stands.
Eliza's own worry had only grown when there was an explosion of red sparks in the air deep into the maze. A few of the professors tasked with retrieving the champions if they called for help had disappeared, only to show up not much later empty handed, whispering into Dumbledore's ear that the entire section of the maze had been found empty. She'd done her best to reassure Pollux that Castor and Harry were going to be okay.
"What do you mean?" She asked. His eyes were set on the Headmaster, who was still in whispered conversations with the other professors, each of them doing their best to hide the worry that was beginning to overtake their features. Headmaster Dumbledore peaked over to their section of the stands, looking directly at Pollux and Eliza before quickly returning to the conversation.
"Castor's in trouble." Pollux stood from his seat, pushing past the other students who grumbled and yelled at him.
"Pollux! Wait!' Eliza pushed past the other students as well, apologizing as she did so. Fred and George were not far behind them.
"Professor!" Pollux called for Dumbledore's attention, trying to make his way onto the field. One of the Ministry's Aurors tasked with keeping the crowd in the stands held up his hands to prevent Pollux from making his way onto the field. "Move!" He barked at him, struggling to push past him. "Professor, please!"
"It's alright, Elphias." Dumbledore waved the Slytherin boy forward. "Let him pass."
Elphias Dodge nodded to the Headmaster, moving aside as Pollux pushed past him, grumbling under his breath. He tried to stop the advancement of Eliza, but the added strength of Fred and George only caused him to sigh and let them through as well.
"Castor is in trouble." Pollux repeated. Dumbledore held up a hand to assuage his worries. "Please, you have to find her!"
"I assure you, we are doing everything we can do find the remaining champions." Dumbledore spoke lowly so nobody else would overhear their conversation.
"No, you don't understand-"
"Mr. Jones, I assure you there is nothing in the maze your sister cannot handle."
"Professor, please, I'm trying to tell you-"
Dumbledore interrupted him again. "We have several Aurors within the maze on the lookout for the Hogwarts champions. In the meantime it would be best if you return to your seat."
"Professor, if you would just listen to him!" Eliza snapped behind Pollux. "This is important."
"I'm sure your sister will be returned soon enough-"
"Dammit! That's what I'm trying to say. I can't feel my sister anymore!" Pollux all but shouted. Luckily his voice was mostly drowned out by the chatter of the crowd, but for those who stood around them in the middle of the field, it was quite startling to hear.
"What are you talking about, Mr. Jones?" Professor Snape moved in to stand beside Dumbledore, while Professor McGonagall moved to stand on the Headmaster's other side, effectively creating a bubble where the crowd was less likely to hear their conversation. Fred, George, and Eliza moved to surround him further from behind him.
"I can't feel her anymore. Our connection is very weak." Pollux responded. "It's a twin thing. Castor and I have always been able to tell whether or not one of us was in trouble."
"It's true professor." Fred spoke up behind him.
"All twins have in some form or another. For Fred and I we can tell when one of us is feeling out of sorts, like we don't need to speak, really, but we can kind-of detect each other's emotions." George added.
"Our mom and Uncle had the same connection. The ability to sense when one of them was in danger." Pollux urged his Headmaster to listen. "Castor and I have it too, we always have. Especially so, due to my legillimency, I've always been able to sense her mind presence, but it's much more difficult when there's more distance between our locations."
"Albus, I think he's telling the truth." Professor McGonagall whispered to him.
"Only a few minutes ago I could feel that she was relatively close, that she was still somewhere in the maze. I know because her mental presence was much more prominent in my head. Again, it's a twin thing, it's hard to explain if you've never experienced it yourself." Pollux looked to Professors Snape and McGonagall, willing each of them to understand. "And then it was like she was suddenly gone, only she wasn't completely gone, but more like she had suddenly travelled over a great distance like that." Pollux snaped his fingers for emphasis. "Please, you have to understand! Castor isn't in the maze anymore!"
"Headmaster," Hagrid appeared over Dumbledore's shoulders then, leaning down to whisper the news so nobody in the stands would overhear. "I've searched the whole maze. There's no sign of Potter, Diggory, or Ms. Jones anywhere."
Dumbledore sighed deeply, nodding slowly as he took in the information. "I need to speak with the other Champions, maybe they saw something amiss while they were still in the maze. I need to speak with the Minister, see if he can spare some of his best Aurors to expand the search." He paused then looking around for the one Professor who knew where the Triwizard Cup had been placed within the maze but frowned when he did not immediately spot who he was looking for. "Where is Alastor Moody?"
~
Harry James Potter had never felt fear quite like this. He sat crouched behind the large headstone, cradling his still bleeding arm, and doing his best to keep a hold of his wand with his shaking hands. He'd originally meant to run for the Cup, to use the portkey to escape back to Hogwarts like Castor had urged them to when they first arrived in the cemetery. He'd managed to retreat away from Voldemort's onslaught of curses shot his way. But he couldn't leave Castor behind to face him alone, to most likely die at the hands of the very same wizard who wanted him dead.
The rattling of chains in the main field startled him and he jumped. He heard the Dark Lord call for Nathan Jones to bring forth his niece. Harry peaked around the stone, eyes widening when Castor's shaking form was dropped at the dark wizard's feet. But she did not cower in fear, as much as Harry knew she probably wanted to. She did not reach for her wand, though Harry wasn't sure if she even had it anymore, seeing as Pettigrew had launched her across the field. Castor Mya Jones was staring up at Voldemort, eyes unwavering and head held high.
And then she was screaming.
Harry jumped again, startled at the sheer volume and pitch of the noise. He ducked back behind the headstone, using his hands to cover his ears. But he could still hear her tortured screams, could still hear how her voice cracked and broke the longer the torture went on. He willed Voldemort to stop, begged the universe to aid in their escape. Harry peaked around the headstone towards the Cup, the soft blue glow illuminating Cedric's body. He would not allow any more people to die here in this graveyard, he couldn't. Cedric's death was his fault, the Hufflepuff boy had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, all because Harry had insisted they all take a hold of the Cup together.
But, he couldn't leave Castor behind. Castor Mya Jones who never babied him, who always treated him as her equal, who pushed him to further better his magic, but never made him feel inferior about his lack of knowledge in the first place. Castor, who wrote to him as often as she could over the summers, who snuck food out of the kitchens to keep Buckbeak and Sirius fed while they hid out in a cave, despite the way his godfather's favoritism made her feel, according to Pollux. Castor, who always tried to stand up for what was right, helping Hermione with her fight for house elves, proudly sporting a S.P.E.W. badge every single day. She'd aided him in every single challenging task of the tournament thus far, and she'd always made sure there was room for Ron in any conversation.
Castor who had always advocated for others, who accepted Lupin as a werewolf and never blamed him for giving her the scars across her neck and shoulder because she knew he didn't mean to. Castor, who was willing to drown in the Black Lake to ensure that he finished the second task, who was just as willing to protect him against Peter Pettigrew and the Master he served. She and Pollux had stood over his unconscious body after the Quidditch World Cup, even as the world around them burned away, who stood up to Barty Crouch Sr. even as they were accused of casting the Dark Mark in the sky. Castor who held up both middle fingers to prejudice, metaphorically and literally, and who went the extra mile to make Hermione feel special, even when most of the school seemed to find her annoying.
Castor Mya Jones was so goddamn selfless, and for once it aggravated Harry James Potter. Because she hadn't once called out for him to help her, hadn't once begged or pleaded for Voldemort to cease his torture, nor did she cower or back down in the face of death. Castor had always protected him and cared for him. Now it was Harry's turn to do the same.
"Crucio!" Voldemort hissed again, furthering his torture on Castor's shaking body.
"Stop! Stop! Please, just let her go!" Harry called out from behind the cement headstone. Voldemort must've heard his pleas, because Castor had finally stopped screaming. He could hear her shaky breathing even from this distance, how she struggled and whimpered in pain. Harry had only felt the sting of the Cruciatis Curse for only a few seconds. Castor had been on the receiving end of it for several minutes without reprieve. He steeled his expression, willing himself to stand and face the one who murdered his parents. To face the one who gave him his lightning scar.
Castor's shaking body was still in the same spot on the grass, her body twitching uncontrollably as she fought against the pain that still wracked her body. Harry was horrified to know he'd let it go on for so long, that he allowed it to happen in the first place. We never should've been here.
Castor's grey-green eyes landed on him, and he could see the moment she registered that he hadn't left. Her lips quivered, chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. Harry could see how she tried to shake her head, how she tried to mouth his name, but he turned his eyes back to Voldemort then. Harry James Potter would not let anyone else die in this graveyard. He would take Castor and escape, and they would be back at Hogwarts by the end of the night.
"Have it your way then." Harry growled. "Expelliarmus!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
Red and Green spells collided in a shower of sparks between them, the blast from the clashing magic swirling around the graveyard. Harry could feel the force of Voldemort's spell against his own, but he would not falter. He gripped his wand tighter in his hands, drawing on every bit of remaining strength he had left to fight back.
"Do nothing! He's mine to finish!" Voldemort yelled to his followers. "He's mine!" The spells crackled and clashed with one another, a fury of red and green fighting against each other. Castor, in her delirious state, could only watch as Harry fought back against the force of the green spell. A white halo of magic began to surround them, swirling around Voldemort and The Boy Who Lived. Castor willed her body to move, struggling under the weight of her limbs. She managed to roll over onto her stomach, slowly beginning to crawl across the grass.
Nathan Jones moved without being told to, walking across the field whilst avoiding the kaleidoscope of magic between the Dark Lord and Harry Potter, until he once again stood over his niece and goddaughter. Castor felt the presence standing above her, and she struggled to even turn her head to see who had approached her.
"Uncle Nathan." Her voice came out as a whisper, and she doubted he even heard her over the crackling magic.
"Lift her up!" The Dark Lord ordered him. "Let her watch as I kill Harry Potter. Let her see his final moments in life!"
Nathan Jones leaned down to his niece, hauling her to her feet again, though she struggled to stand on her own, most of her weight being supported by the elder Elemental behind her. The tip of the knife was pressed to her belly again, blood beading from beneath her skin, ensuring that she wouldn't try to fight him off, though she doubted she even had the strength to.
A light burst from the spot where Voldemort's spell and Harry's met. A silvery white figure floated beside Harry, and both he and Castor could see it was the spirit of Cedric Diggory. Castor's eyes stung with tears, but she would not allow herself to cry. Tears would only blind her view of possibly her last moments, of Harry's last moments. Another light burst forth from the connection, this time and elderly gentlemen in a snap cap and wrinkled cardigan. Another light burst fort again, this time an elderly woman.
Castor felt Nathan shifting and moving behind her. She felt the tip of a wand pressing into her back, between her shoulder blades. But what she wasn't expecting was for the same wand to be tucked back into the sheath on the outside of her thigh, though still hidden from view of the other Death Eaters.
Two more silvery white lights burst forth from the red and green collision, and Castor was shocked to see the figures surround Harry on either side of him. One sporting the same round glasses, and the other with long, bright red hair and gentle freckles. She immediately knew these two people to be Harry's parents.
"Harry, when the connection is broken, you must get to the portkey." The ghost of James Potter urged his son. "We can linger for a moment to give you some time, but only a moment. Do you understand?" Harry nodded at his father's words, torn between focusing on the spell or the way even in death his parents were still protecting him.
"Harry," Cedric called for him. "Take my body back with you. Take my body back to my father." Harry nodded at Cedric's words.
"Let go." Lily Potter's melodic voice urged her son. Castor briefly saw her spirit glance back towards Castor and Nathan before turning back to her son. "Sweetheart, you're ready. Let go. Let go!"
"Run!" Nathan hissed into Castor's ear the moment Harry broke the connection with Voldemort. With both hands braced on her shoulders, he pushed her towards Harry before he turned to face the Dark Lord. Each of the silvery-white spirits rushed at Voldemort, blinding him enough for Harry and Castor to stumble away towards the portkey. Castor kneeled beside Harry and Cedric's body, turning back to see her Uncle had moved to block them from Voldemort's pointed wand.
"Et clarissimum flamma et vincere gelidus in longa hiems!" Nathan Jones spoke the Latin words clearly, glaring down the Dark Lord with eyes glowing before raising the knife to his neck. Castor could only watch in horror as his body dropped to the dirt at the same moment that Harry called for the Cup. (The brightest flame will defeat the deathly chill of the long winter.)
"Accio!" Harry pointed his wand to the portkey, catching a hold of the handle with the same hand that held his wand. His other arm was linked through Castor's, with his hand gripping the uniform of Cedric's yellow and black jersey.
They landed back in the main courtyard before the maze, dropping to the ground harshly. Cedric's body lay on his back, his wand still gripped in his hand, and his eyes staring blankly above him. Harry landed beside him, his arm still bleeding, and still clutching the fabric of Cedric's jersey as he sobbed into his chest. Castor landed a few feet away, barely managing to hold onto Harry's arm before they were all the way back at Hogwarts. Upon spotting the three remaining champions returning from the maze, the band immediately began to play a joyful tune.
Castor's body was still shaking as she lay on her back, fingers twitching and body still feeling her nerves alight with the lingering pain of the Cruciatis Curse. She could hear Harry's pain filled cries beside her, and she wanted so badly to roll over and pull him to her chest, to shield him from the prying eyes of those watching in the stands. She wanted to call out for her brother, to feel him press his brotherly kisses to her hair like their mother used to do, to hear him tell her they would be alright, even if she knew the phrase would be a lie now the Dark Lord had officially returned.
She could hear a girlish scream from close by, and the slow realizations that everything was not alright. Dumbledore called for Harry, rushing down the stands onto the field. The band died out, gasps and shocked whispers rushing through the crowd at an alarming rate. The Minister was barking at her Headmaster, and she could only turn her head to watch as Harry refused to let go of Cedric's body.
"For God's sake, Dumbledore, what's happened?!" The Minister of Magic kneeled beside Harry and Cedric with the wise wizard.
"He's back! He's back!" Harry cried to Dumbledore. "Voldemort's back!" Harry cried harder. "Cedric, he asked me to bring his body back. I couldn't leave him! Not there!"
"It's alright, Harry. It's alright. He's home. You both are." Dumbledore assured him, doing his best to calm the boy. Dumbledore looked over to Castor, who's body lay still in the grass.
"He tortured her." Harry noticed where he was looking. "He tortured her with the Cruciatis Curse, and he wouldn't stop, and she just kept screaming-" Harry's voice cut out with another body-wracking sob as he recalled the shrill tone of her screams.
"Castor!" Pollux's voice echoed through the field, his large frame pushing past anyone who stood in his way. Eliza's eyes were filled with tears as she stood beside the Weasley twins, both of whom were torn between watching Harry or watching their best friend cry over the convulsing body of their best friend. Pollux dropped to his knees beside his twin, eyes glistening with tears as she used both hands to turn her face towards him.
Castor's eyes blinked slowly, as if the action took all her strength, she coughed then, blood pooling at the corners of her lips and staining her teeth. Her lips moved as she tried to speak, but Pollux shook his head down at her.
"No, no, don't try to speak." He pulled her to sit up a little, holding her to his chest and pushing her sweaty hair out of her face, her braids had come almost completely undone, causing her curls to cascade down her shoulders like a pitch black waterfall. The action was so familiar and soothing to her, comforting in a way that only reminded her of her mother. With the scent of Pollux's cologne and the assurance that Harry was safe, for now, she finally allowed herself to cry. "Shh, I've got you." Pollux whispered to his twin, rocking her back at forth slowly. "I've got you. Don't worry. You're safe."
"Keep everybody in their seats!" The Minister ordered. "The body must be moved Dumbledore. There are too many people."
"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Pollux snapped.
"Let me through! Let me through!" The voice of Amos Diggory was quite loud as he pushed through the crowd and made his way onto the field. Arthur Weasley was not far behind him, though it was fruitless to try to prevent him from seeing his dead son. "That's my son! That's my boy!"
Castor watched as Amos Diggory dropped to his knees beside Cedric's body, and the anguish on his face as he cried over his only child was enough to break Castor down even further. She was the reason Cedric was dead, she should've pushed him out of the way, she should've done more. She could have done more. And now Cedric was dead, and it was all because of her. She was blinded by her own tears again, her body convulsing and shaking with each new harsh sob that left her blood-stained lips.
Professor Moody leaned down and pulled Harry to his feet, whispering to him where only he could hear, before he pulled the boy along and out of sight. Every red flag warning went off in her head, and with a shaky outstretched hand, she pointed to the retreating figures of Alastor Moody and Harry James Potter.
"What is it?" Pollux whispered to his twin. "Castor?" He followed her single pointed finger to where he'd seen Professor Moody escape to. With a skeptic look on his face, he peered down at his sister. Her lips formed one word, but her volume was too low for him to hear. Pollux leaned down so his ear was right by her shaking lips. "What is it, Castor? Tell me."
"Traitor!" It was only one word, but it was enough to give Pollux all the answers. Of course! Professor Moody had been the one to place the Triwizard Cup within the maze, and at the first sign of trouble, he'd disappeared from prying eyes until after the Hogwarts Champions had returned, only for him to immediately leave with Harry in tow.
Immediately Pollux pulled his sister to her feet, supporting most of her weight with one of her arms slung over his shoulders. They had to tell Professor Dumbledore before it was too late.