Madam Pomfrey let me take off the neon green bandage after only one day, which she claimed was some kind of miracle. She was so fascinated by my strange healing connection with Malfoy that I feared she might injure one of us just to study it. Personally, I hoped she chose Malfoy as her victim, but that was a bit biased...
About another month went by in which I spent most of my time studying for exams, and the rest of my time was spent being badgered by everyone over who would win the Tournament. I still didn't know, but I sincerely hoped it was Harry...
On the day of the third task, the Great Hall was booming with excitement. I sat with the Slytherins for breakfast, though only because Astoria wouldn't stop talking long enough for me to tell her that I'd rather sit with the Gryffindors.
"I hope Cedric wins—just because he's the hottest," Astoria was saying as we sat down at the Slytherin table. I stared over at the Gryffindors longingly as she continued to rant. "Harry's a little cute, but he needs to ditch the glasses, and the scar, and cut his hair, and maybe get taller—"
"I hope they all die," Melody interjected, her eyes on her book. "That would be funny."
"I totally agree," Harper said quickly. "I'll be laughing so hard when...everyone...dies..." He glanced over at me with flustered eyes and then muttered, "What do you even say to that? She's absolutely crazy—"
"I can still hear you, Harper," Melody droned.
"I wish that Crabbe was one of the champions," Ashley sighed dreamily. "And then he would win—and he would be rich and amazing—"
"If Crabbe were a champion, he would have died of a heart attack when his name was pulled from the Goblet," was Melody's blunt comment. "So he'd be dead."
"Ooh! Here he comes now!" Ashley enthused as she looked toward the entrance, where Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were now strutting into the Great Hall. I expected them to sit with the rest of the fourth years, so I was thoroughly surprised when Malfoy kept walking—and then took a seat next to me.
"Did you take a look at the Prophet yet, Mudblood?" he sneered as he threw a copy of the newspaper in front of me.
"No, what of it?" I asked as I examined the newspaper.
"Oh—just another hilarious article about Potter. And if you look on page five"—he reached over me to flip the pages, leaning much too close for me to feel comfortable— "you'll see that your prediction was right."
I took my eyes off of Malfoy's smug face to look down at the newspaper, which read, "Ministry Worker, Clay Williams, Murdered".
"Someone was murdered," Malfoy drawled. "Though I doubt he was anyone of importance. So—now that your obsession over this death has come to a close, you can now tell me who's going to win the Tournament today."
"I've already told you that I don't know," I hissed impatiently. "And this isn't the death I've felt anyway. Someone else is going to be killed—I know it. It's gnawing at me—the feeling just won't budge—"
"Yeah, yeah, no one cares about your pathetic feelings, Mudblood," he droned, clearly distracted. "Here comes Potter—Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"
Malfoy waved the copy of the Daily Prophet at Harry as the rest of the Slytherins sniggered, turning their heads to see Harry's reaction over at the Gryffindor table. I backhanded Malfoy's shoulder and he stopped chortling to scowl at me.
"Stop being such a git, Malfoy, honestly. It's just annoying," I muttered as I looked down at my food. I thought he would retort with a nasty comment, but to my surprise, he just went on to rant with Anderson about the bets he planned to make today at the task. It was childish, but I actually smiled to myself when he kept his seat next to me...
Between exams and dinner that afternoon, Harper, Anderson, and I spent some time in the Slytherin common room playing with Smellfoy. The little ferret had grown quite fond of me in the past few months, and after playing with him for about an hour, he fell asleep on my lap as I sat on one of the dark, leather couches. Harper tried to squeeze into the armchair that Melody was reading in, but after she nearly bit his arm, he opted for sitting on the couch across from her with Anderson.
"I can't believe Smellfoy loves you so much," Anderson mused as he stared over at the tiny sleeping ferret. "He's just like the real Malfoy—Ha!"
I ignored his comment completely as I turned to Melody. "What book are you reading?"
"Slit, Slice, and Slaughter," Harper told me matter-of-factly. "She's been reading it for weeks. The pictures are quite gruesome—"
"Maybe you shouldn't be nosing your way into my books then, Harper," she snipped harshly, her vicious eyes glaring at him for a few brief seconds.
"It sounds like some kind of meat processing book," I commented dryly. "Are you into farming now, Melody?"
Her green eyes grazed over me as her lips pursed. "If you mean human meat, then yes—I'm preparing for a harvest."
"God—you are so sexy when you talk like a mass murderer," Harper marveled.
"I don't know how I sleep in the same room as you," was all I could think to say.
"Lainey! What are you doing with that nasty thing in your lap?" Astoria shrilled as she and Ashley entered the common room.
"Dang, Smellfoy's sleeping! I wanted to put him in Adrian's bed..." Ashley pouted as the two girls approached us. Anderson scooted over to make room for Astoria, but she ignored him as she took a seat on the couch across from me with Ashley.
"That would probably be crueler to poor Smellfoy than it would be to Adrian," I said as I stroked the gross ferret's head.
"Yeah—I bet that skank Daphne sleeps in that bed," Melody commented, her lips curling maliciously.
"DO NOT SAY THAT!" Ashley and Astoria exploded at the same time. Some of the older Slytherins glared at us from the other side of the common room.
"Mudblood!" Malfoy called as he, Crabbe, and Goyle swaggered into the room. "Have you forgotten that that ghastly thing is an actual ferret and it's not me? If so, I'll have you know that I'd never stoop as low as to sleep with filth like you."
Chortling, Crabbe and Goyle sat down in separate armchairs, Crabbe choosing the one closest to Ashley. Malfoy did not choose to sit in an armchair; instead, he chose to sit down on the couch next to me.
"I'll have you know that I'd rather let this rancid ferret sleep on me than sit on this couch next to you," I retorted sardonically. The fact that he was seated so close to me—with such a pompous little grin on his lips—sent a wave of discomfort and exhilaration through me.
"I believe you'd say differently if we were alone," he drawled in a low tone.
"Don't—talk like that," I hissed, trying to ignore the jittering of my heart.
The others had all initiated their own conversations now: Ashley ranting about Adrian to Crabbe, Astoria jabbering about makeup to Melody (who continued to read), and Anderson and Harper giggling about how much of a ferret-lover I was.
"Why are you being so...so flirty?" I demanded lowly. "I'm a Mudblood—you should hate me—"
"Maybe I do hate you," Malfoy huffed hastily as Anderson let out a loud cackle. I thought maybe he'd been listening to our conversation, but then I realized that Harper was now using his wand to magically move Melody's hair from where he sat on the opposite side of the circle.
"And if you don't?" I questioned slowly, averting my attention from Harper's pestering back to muddled-faced Malfoy.
"That—that's not even an option, Mudblood," he sneered, not even noticing the commotion that Harper had provoked. Anderson's laughter was untamable as Melody slammed her book shut. "My blood is pure and yours is dirty—we're opposites—destined to hate each other—you shouldn't even be considered a witch—"
"What if I'm not Muggle-born, though? What if my mother had magical blood? What would you think of me then?" I challenged, raising my eyebrows at him. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could—
"You think it's funny, do you?" Melody roared as she threw Slit, Slice, and Slaughter across the room and lunged herself at Harper. She sunk her knee into his gut and then pulled her wand out of her pocket to shove it in his face.
I was about to stand up and break up the fight, but before I could move, my vision suddenly went hazy. Without warning, the common room began to fade out of focus as a new image formed in my brain. It was a blurred clamor of moving bodies and beams of light—like wizards dueling in a grueling battle. The faces were unclear; the entire view was abstract and jumbled. Though the shouts and cries were muffled, each one sent a panging headache through my brain until all sound was vanquished by a singular, droning voice.
"The rebirth of darkness will spawn the dawn of a new age—one of strife and hate and war."
I heard a loud, familiar scream and watched as an unrecognizable individual fell to their death at the hand of a wand-wielding wizard. The scene was fuzzy, the people distorted, but I could clearly distinguish the aura of grief that loomed over this event.
"As a result," the voice continued, "one that I love will die... One that I love will die by the hand of one that I hate—and this will happen twice."
With another ear-piercing shriek, the image of death slowly retreated into the depths of my mind as my vision was brought back to the forefront of reality. I blinked furiously, sharpening the sight of the eerily still circle of teenagers that had reappeared in my eyes.
Melody Flemming—who had been ready to demolish Ryan Harper—now had both feet planted on the ground as she and every Slytherin in the circle stared at me with bulging eyes of bewilderment.
"Oh—good, you're not trying to kill Harper," I commented to Melody as everyone else's gaze remained trained on me. "Er—did I just faint or—"
"Ho-ly shite," Harper blurted, his big blue eyes unblinking.
"Damn, you're a Seer, Mudblood," Melody mused as she slipped her wand back into her pocket. "That could be useful..."
"I've been telling you all this for months," Anderson insisted, though his face was still riddled with shock.
"How are you a Seer?" Malfoy spat. "You can't have any Seers in your ancestry! You're a Mudblood!"
"I just told you that I'm not—" I began to mutter through my teeth, though Ashley cut me off before I could say any more.
"Who's going to die?" she wailed theatrically. "Oh—I hope it's Adrian!"
"I hope it's Lainey's hair," Astoria commented, her face now restored to its normal snootiness as she began to examine her nails. "Then maybe it'll grow back not looking hideous."
"How did you guys know someone's going to die?" I questioned, looking to each of them before my hard eyes finally fell on Malfoy. "Did you tell them about what I said in the hospital wing?"
"You just said that two people you love are going to be murdered," Harper blurted, his mouth gaping in disbelief. "You don't remember?"
"I—I said what?" I questioned, my face drooping. I couldn't remember anything from when my vision had gone blurry; it felt like I'd only had a small lapse in consciousness.
"You said darkness is going to be reborn, something about war, and then that two people you love are going to die," Anderson explained. "Pretty grim stuff, if you ask me."
"Two people I love are going to die?" I repeated, my face numb with disbelief.
"Murdered, actually," Melody droned. "I hope I'm the one to do the murdering..."
"Dang it! You don't love Adrian!" Ashley griped, crossing her arms as Crabbe looked over at her with a dull glance of sympathy. "I really wanted it to be him..."
"I—I told you!" I exclaimed, pointing my finger angrily at Malfoy. "I told you someone was going to be murdered! I knew it! What do you have to say now for how much of a git you've been, hm?"
He pursed his lips, eyeing me carefully. "I don't even think we should believe that the 'prophecy' you just recited wasn't rubbish. You could have just made that up to spite me. Tell us, Seer, who's going to die? Diggory, perhaps? Or maybe that blasted Weaselbee—"
I moved to lurch my fist into Malfoy's face, but as I did, Smellfoy went flying off of my lap and let out a faint cry as he hit the ground.
"He's awake!" Ashley boomed as she jumped up from the couch. "Come here Smellfoy—I want to put you in Adrian's bed!"
"Adrian doesn't sleep in his bed anymore," Miles Bletchley scoffed as he walked by us. "He sleeps with that little slag Greengrass now—"
"WHAT!" Astoria cried as she jumped to her feet. "I do not sleep with Adrian!"
"He's not talking about you, stupid. He's talking about your sister," Melody grumbled as she slumped back over to her armchair. Judging by her demeanor, I think she was thoroughly disappointed that she didn't get to attack Harper. I was thoroughly disappointed that I didn't get to punch Malfoy again, though there was still the possibility—
"Crabbe, Goyle, let's go," Malfoy barked as he stood up from the couch. "We're going to the Great Hall to get away from this lying scum—"
"I'm not lying!" I insisted as I jumped up. "You guys are probably lying—considering I don't remember anything of this prophecy you claim I said—"
He took a step toward me, his angry, red face only inches from mine. "First you try to tell me you're not a Mudblood, and now you're trying to fool me into thinking all of these murders are going to happen? You're full of rubbish, Fitzroy."
Before I could attempt to prove that I was not lying—though I wasn't even sure how I could verify either of the things he'd claimed as false—Malfoy spun on his heel and stalked out of the common room with his two goons. Ashley and Astoria had already gone—probably to put Smellfoy in Daphne's bed—which left Melody, Harper, Anderson, and I, all in the same spots we'd started out in.
Wearily, I plopped back down in the couch and gazed over at the two boys who were staring at me with sly smirks on their faces.
"What? What is that look about?" I griped, crossing my arms.
"You're in love with Smellfoy," Harper sang as Anderson began to snigger.
"I am not in love with a ferret—"
"No, not that Smellfoy—Draco Smellfoy. The pureblooded git that we all love to hate," Harper clarified.
"God, Harper—I feel dirty just for wanting a pureblood to date a Mudblood. Imagine if it actually happened," Anderson mused, shuddering at the thought.
"We'd all have to gouge our eyes out, definitely," Harper replied, nodding in agreement.
I rolled my eyes as I avoided looking at them. "You guys are—annoying. I would never date Draco Malfoy, and he would never date me—"
"Denial," Melody snorted. "Always the hardest step to get past."
"You'd know a lot about denial, wouldn't you, Melody? You're in denial over your fate with Harper—"
"Don't make me slit your throat, Anderson," Melody drawled, waving her book around. "I do have a few new tricks I'd like to try out." Her eyes flickered toward me and her eyebrows jumped knowingly before she looked back down at her book.
∆
After dinner that evening, the entire school headed down toward the Quidditch pitch, which was where the third task would take place. The final rays of the quickly descending sun danced upon the ridges in the massive, green maze that consumed the entirety of the field. As the sun finally set, a cloud of fog fell over the maze, giving it a dark, ominous tinge—one that reflected my prediction in the crystal ball, as well as my current mood. Even though the rest of the school was buzzing with excitement, I could not remove the grim aura of death that plagued my mind. If the Slytherins were telling the truth about my prophecy—which was still a debatable topic—that not only meant that dark times were upon us, but it also meant that two people I loved were going to be murdered. I couldn't even begin to fathom the thought; as soon as I started to brood over the two that would die, I stopped wanting to love anyone at all.
"Let me fix your hair, please," Astoria groaned as we approached the stadium. "You know that when Cedric wins, he's going to whisk you away and kiss you and people are going to take pictures and you simply cannot leave your hair—"
"Astoria, even if Cedric wins, he would obviously choose Cho over me. I'd be more likely to be in photos if Harry won," I insisted halfheartedly. I was too overwhelmed by the commotion of the third task to pay much mind to Astoria's ranting. We were entering the field now, and I spotted the champions all standing over by the entrance of the maze.
"We're in the Quidditch stadium!" Ashley squeaked as the large group of Slytherins walked along the edge of the hedge. "I wonder if Potter will use his broom for this task... I hope he does..."
"No way—look at him—he doesn't look like he's got a plan!" Anderson insisted as we passed the champions to make our way toward the stands. Harry was standing nervously, glancing over at the entrance to the maze as the rest of the school filed into the seats. I wanted to get his attention and wish him luck, but before I could, Cedric Diggory began to wave me down.
"Lainey!" he called from where he stood with his father.
"Oh my God—he wants to talk to you!" Astoria squealed as she began to push me in his direction. "Go!"
Stumbling, I reluctantly approached Cedric, who looked eager to speak with me as his father stood fervently at his side.
"Ah, Lainey, so good to see you again," Amos Diggory greeted as he shook my hand. "Glad to see you've chosen the real Hogwarts champion—"
"Dad," Cedric hissed. "We have nothing against Harry... May I have a word alone with Lainey?"
Amos opened his mouth to object, but then closed it and nodded. "I'll be watching with your mother, Ced. We're so proud."
He gave his son a hearty, joy-filled hug before hurrying off to join his wife in the stands with the rest of the crowd. I saw Ludo Bagman, who had been the announcer of the Tournament, and he looked like he was nearly ready to begin.
"Er—if you want to know if you're going to win, I can't tell you," I began slowly, eyeing Cedric carefully. Even through his composed facial expression I could see the nervousness festering within. "I don't know who's going to win."
"Oh—I didn't want to talk to you about that, actually..." he replied, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "I just wanted to talk to you...well, yeah, just talk to you, I guess. Thought it might make me less nervous about the task...or something..."
I cleared my throat, stiffening my stance. "You didn't want to talk to—er—Cho? Your girlfriend?"
"Oh—well, I talked to her before, so..." he replied, trailing off as he gazed uncomfortably over at the stands. I turned around to see that Cho Chang was sitting amongst the Ravenclaws, staring at us with a pained expression.
"Right—um—maybe I should go—" I began, spinning to walk away, but Cedric grabbed my arm before I could take a step.
"Wait—Lainey," he said, pulling me gently back toward him. "I—I don't know hectic it might be after the task, so I just wanted to know...will I hear from you this summer?"
I gazed up into his grey eyes as a wily smirk spread across my lips. "Depends—are you going to be the champ? Because I only talk to champs."
Cedric let out an edgy yet sincere chuckle. "If that's the case, I better make sure I win," he replied briskly. His pensive eyes lingered over my face for a few moments before he cleared his throat and looked down. "I—er—I hope we can stay...friends, even though I won't be back a Hogwarts next year."
I nodded quickly. "Yeah—friends, of course. I—I hope you do well in the maze. And I hope everything works out with you and—Cho."
"Lainey—" he started, taking a desperate step toward me, but I just forced a smile as I began to back away.
"Good luck, Cedric," I said, taking a few slow steps backward. "See you after."
I didn't wait for him to respond before turning on my heel and hurrying over toward the stands. My Slytherin friends were already seated with an empty spot between Astoria and Harper for me to fill, but then an excited Gryffindor caught my eye.
"Lainey! Lainey! Come here!" Hermione called from where she sat among many of the other Gryffindors. She seemed to be completely surrounded by Weasleys: even Molly and Bill had come to watch the task.
Ignoring the glares I received from the Slytherins, I scurried over toward the Gryffindors and shuffled into the row that my friends were seated in.
"Oh, hey, Lainey," Ron greeted between bites of popcorn. Seated to his left, Hermione rolled her eyes at his large popcorn bucket as I waddled by them.
"Lainey!" Ginny enthused from her seat on the other side of Hermione.
"Fitz—we thought we'd lost you to those Slytherin scum," Fred joked as I scooted past Ginny to where he sat.
"Lainey—Freddy saved you a seat," George teased, motioning toward the empty spot between Ginny and Fred. Before I could formulate a thought, Ginny yanked me down onto the bench so hard that I slammed right into Fred's shoulder.
"Whoa, Fitz, if you want to bump into me, you need to ask—"
"Oh really?" I questioned before playfully ramming my shoulder into his again. He didn't have time to retaliate, since his mother had just turned her attention toward us.
"Oh—Lainey, dear, so nice to see you again," Molly Weasley greeted from where she sat in the row in front of us. Next to her was Bill, though I barely got to exchange a head nod with him before Fred nudged me forcefully into Ginny.
"Ow—Fred!" Ginny groaned as she pushed me back into him.
"You need to ask before you shove me, Fred," I bantered slyly.
"Lainey," Hermione prompted from the other side of Ginny. "I have really exciting news: I think I've discovered what you are—"
"Oh, we already know what she is," George said.
"Yeah, she's an ickle little Slytherin," Fred chimed in.
"Who has a huge crush on Freddy," George added, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
I rolled my eyes, ignoring them completely as I kept my attention on Hermione. "What did you find out, then?"
"Well," Hermione began, folding her hands fervently in her lap. "I've been doing a lot of reading this year, you know—"
"We know," the twins chorused.
"When are you not doing a lot of reading?" Ron snorted before shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
Hermione straightened her torso and held her head high. "Anyway, I think I've discovered what kind of psychic you are, Lainey. I knew you couldn't be a Seer, of course, because that's all just rubbish—"
I almost told her that I'd just made a horribly morbid Seer-prediction, but I was too interested in what she thought I was to deter her.
"—so after doing an extensive amount of research—"
"Just spit it out, Hermione," Ginny commanded anxiously.
"Well, I'm pretty sure you're a—"
A high-pitched, blaring whistle sounded throughout the stadium, signaling the commencement of the task. We all turned our attention toward the maze, which Harry and Cedric had just run through the entrance of. The crowd roared with excitement as the first two champion disappeared from sight.
"Go Harry!" Ron exclaimed as he jumped out of his seat. His popcorn went flying, landing right on Harmony Flemming who sat right in front of him. I expected her to turn around and stab him with the nearest sharp object (like Melody would have) but to my surprise she spun around with an expression of guilt on her face.
"Oh—Ron, sorry about your popcorn," she said as she began to scoop it back into the bucket. "Will you still eat it if it's been on the ground?"
"Of course," Ron said as he helped her scoop the popcorn back into the bucket.
"That is disgusting, Ron," Hermione snapped, her nose scrunched as she watched the two Gryffindors clean up the dirt covered popcorn.
A second whistle blew, and Viktor Krum went darting into the maze. The crowd applauded, though not nearly as loud as they had for the Hogwarts champions.
"It's your boy, Hermione," I teased, nudging Ginny into her as I wriggled my eyebrows.
"We're just...friends," Hermione replied stiffly, glancing briefly in Ron's direction.
"This is rubbish!" Lee Jordan exclaimed from the other side of the twins. "We can't even see what's going on in the maze!"
"We couldn't see what was happening in the last task either," Ginny told me as the third whistle blew. Fleur ran into the maze, though only Beauxbatons and a few of the veela-enthralled boys cheered this time.
"C'mon, Georgey, let's run in there and see what's happening," Fred said as he and his twin started to stand. Before they could, though, I quickly jumped on them, landing in both of their laps. Most of me was just sitting on Fred, but that wasn't purposely, of course...
"You guys are not going in that maze," I insisted as I looked between both smirking twins. George let out a girlish giggle and I narrowed my eyes at him. "What?"
"Why aren't you sitting on Georgey's lap?" Fred teased, a crafty grin spreading on his lips.
I raised my eyebrows at him sassily. "Would you like me to switch?"
"Oh, no, definitely not, Fitz," he assured me as George continued to giggle. I was about to get up and halt my embarrassment when a flashing light momentarily blinded me.
"Wow, great picture!" Colin Creevey enthused, holding his digital camera up from where he sat a few rows ahead. "You two almost look like a couple! Too bad I'm not bigger—then you could sit on my lap, Lainey! Now you'd probably just crush me, though..."
I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything to him, Colin sat back down.
"A couple, aye?" Fred mused as I scrambled to get off of him.
"Sounds about right to me," George piped up, still snickering to himself.
"Colin's just...Colin," I huffed as I returned to my spot between Ginny and Fred. I straightened out my clothes and tried to avoid looking in the twins' direction.
"They're all running through the maze!" Lee commentated boisterously as a few of the Gryffindors laughed. "We don't know where they are, or what they're doing, but it's bloody awesome!"
"Tell us what Harry's doing, Lee," I called over to him.
"Oh, Harry Potter? Well of course he's battling a mountain troll! This is nothing new for Harry Potter—he's been doing this since he was eleven! Just look at him go—taking down that troll! Nearly as impressive as the first time!"
The Gryffindor section continued to chortle as Lee continued to give his interpretation of what might be happening inside of the maze. It certainly took my mind off of the fact that someone was going to get murdered in the not so distant future. I'd almost forgotten all about the macabre sensation I felt and the morose prophecy I'd made when a bright red spark shot up out of the maze.
All laughter ceased and the entire crowd began to murmur as someone went in to retrieve the troubled champion.
"Oh, I hope it's not Harry," Hermione moaned, her legs shaking as we all waited to see who had forfeited.
"And it's...Viktor Krum!" Ludo Bagman announced near the entrance of the maze. "Looks like he's been Stunned!"
"Who Stunned him?" Ginny asked as she and the others all turned to look at me.
"I—I think it was Harry," I blurted as the realization flowed over me. "Krum—attacked Cedric—and Harry saved him."
"Wow, Fitz, you should commentate—"
"Viktor attacked Cedric?" Hermione blurted in outrage. "But—but how? Why?"
"Can't believe your precious Krum would do something like that?" Ron grumbled, now crunching on his popcorn bitterly.
My face contorted into a grimace as I struggled to answer Hermione's question. "He...used the Cruciatus Curse on Cedric—"
"No way!" Ginny blurted in horror. "That's illegal!"
"He wouldn't have—it's illegal," Hermione insisted, shaking her head. "He couldn't..."
"That's...what I saw," I confirmed slowly, looking to each of them with pained eyes. "I think they're okay, though—Harry and Cedric."
"Well, at least we know all of that practice with the Stunning Spell paid off for Harry," Ron said dully, no longer eating popcorn.
"One champion down, three left in the race!" Lee announced wearily.
"You should have let us go in, Fitz," Fred insisted.
"Yeah, we could have saved Diggory," George said.
"Yeah, or given him more Ton-Tongue Toffees," I muttered. "You guys don't want to be in there anyway. It's not good..."
"Do you know what's happening right now?" Ginny asked cautiously.
"I—I think—"
Before I could form a thought, however, a bright beam of light came streaming out of the far end of the maze, dissipating through the sky almost as quickly as it had appeared. Nearly the entire crowd stood up in a wave of panic as all of the judges and professors by the entrance of the maze whispered in urgent tones.
"What is happening?" Ginny cried. "Lainey—"
"I—I don't know—I think someone just got the Cup, though—someone's won—but—they're gone—"
A sharp beam of pain shot through my brain, stemming from the irritated spot behind my ear and extending toward my forehead with a radiating sting. My eyes couldn't see anything, nor could my psychic mind, but somehow I just knew that a death had occurred.
"Someone's dead," I blurted, my wide eyes trained on the maze. "Someone—I have to—"
None of my Gryffindor friends had time to react before I pushed past them all, staggering down the stairs of the stands to run toward the maze. Murmurs followed me, worsening the headache that had consumed my brain, but I didn't stop sprinting. I had to get into the maze—I had to do something. What if Harry was dead? What if something had killed him? I couldn't even fathom the thought—
I'd nearly made it to the entrance of the maze—I was only steps away from darting through the towering hedges—
Someone forcefully grasped my arm, yanking me back toward the stands.
"What do you think you are doing, Fitzroy?" Snape snarled as he dragged me away from the entrance to the maze.
"I—I have to—someone has to do something! Someone's dead!" I cried, struggling to free myself from his grip.
"I will not let you disgrace Slytherin House with your foolery, Fitzroy," Snape growled harshly. "I assure you that no one has died—"
"Someone did! I saw it! I swear—Snape—you have to do something—"
"You will call me Professor—"
"Professor—you have to do something!" I pleaded, still trying to pull myself away from him. "I've had this feeling that someone would be murdered for weeks and now—"
"Enough, Fitzroy," he bellowed, dragging me back toward the crowd. "You will go back to your seat—"
"I was sitting with the Gryffindors—"
"That explains your need for attention," he droned, shoving me onto the staircase that lead to the Slytherin section. "Now sit down and stay there."
Reluctantly, I trudged over to my Slytherin friends and sat down between Astoria and Harper.
"I love when you're humiliated," Melody mused, reading a book on the other side of Harper.
"What was that about?" Harper questioned. "Did you see a vision?"
"I just—feel like someone's dead," I moped, burying my face in my hands. My head was still throbbing, the spot behind my ear especially. I knew it had something to do with Voldemort—it had to. But how could he have killed someone if he was barely even alive? And how could he have killed one of the champions if they were all in the maze? Unless...they weren't...
"Why would you want to go into that maze?" Astoria questioned next to me. "It's like—dark. I bet there is absolutely no pink in there—"
"And it's definitely not as cool as Quidditch," Ashley added from the other side of Astoria. "I wish they'd just played a Quidditch match—"
"What'd you See, Seer?" Anderson questioned feverishly. "Did someone win? Is someone close to winning?"
"Mudblood—enjoyed making a scene, did you?" Malfoy drawled form his seat in front of me where he sat next to Pansy. My face went back into my hands after she scrunched her nose at me.
"Don't talk to me, Malfoy," I grumbled, my voice muffled through my palms.
"Were you hoping to join Diggory in the maze?" he went on smugly. "Hoping to snog him in the hedge?"
Many of the fourth year Slytherins snickered in front of us, though I didn't even look up at them.
"No—just leave me—"
My sentence was swiftly cut off by a groaning scream that echoed throughout the stadium—and it came from my mouth. The pain was so shocking that I wasn't even sure why I was screaming—until a white hot dagger seemed to stab through my skull, penetrating in the area of concentrated agony behind my right ear. My vision went blurry, my head spinning with the images of life happening before me, and life happening in a distant graveyard. Nothing made sense—nothing was clear—except the snake-like face of a reborn man, one that could only be Voldemort's.
"He—he's back," I moaned, my head still throbbing with unbearable pain.
"Who's back?" Harper questioned. His hand on my shoulder was the only thing keeping me upright.
"You-Know-Who...he's alive..." I muttered, my throat aching and my face sweating.
"What are you screaming about back there, Fitzroy?" I heard Malfoy question from in front of me. My face remained in my hands as I kept my eyes glued shut. Seeing made me nauseous—
"Lainey, please never scream again," Astoria complained from beside me. "You sound hideous when you scream."
"What did you just say, Mudblood?" Melody barked from the other side of Harper. Her voice sent a shooting sting through my scattered brain.
"She said You-Know-Who is alive," Harper said slowly. "I think she needs to be taken to a mental hospital—"
"I'm sane, Harper," I roared, springing up to scowl at him. "He's back and he's killed someone! I know it! Don't tell me that I'm crazy!"
"You sound a little crazy," Anderson put in dumbly.
I reached for my wand, readying myself to hex him out of the stands, but before I could, a tangled mass shot down from the sky, and two champions were suddenly lying on the grass by the entrance to the maze. Everyone in the stands stood on their feet in a clamoring panic as the judges and authority figures all hurried over to the two boys. It was Harry Potter, lying with one arm clutching Cedric and the other holding the Cup.
Harry let go of the Cup, but he remained with this arms firmly grasping Cedric. He pulled Dumbledore down toward him as the crowd murmured with muddled confusion. A moment later, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, walked up to the scene and gasped loudly.
"My God—Diggory! Dumbledore—he's dead!"
Air caught in my throat, but it wouldn't go down. My lungs seemed to collapse with the lack of oxygen as I stared down at Cedric's lifeless body. His eyes were open wide, staring up at the dark night sky, but he saw nothing, thought nothing, felt nothing. Voldemort had rendered Cedric's body vacant: his soul was gone—murdered by a nefarious psychopath. I knew it; I'd been right. And, at that moment, I wished more than ever that I'd been wrong.
Voices shouted—screeched—as girl broke out in tears: "He's dead! Cedric is dead!"
I saw Cho Chang sprint down toward the scene as the Diggorys followed swiftly behind her. Students—mostly Hufflepuffs—quickly descended the stairs, though the professors tried desperately to hold them back.
Over in the Slytherin section, I hadn't taken a breath since seeing Cedric's dead body, and I wasn't sure that I knew how to inhale air anymore.
"Lainey—Lainey, breathe," Astoria prompted, her hands on my shoulder. She rubbed my back, willing air into my lungs, but it wouldn't come. My hazy eyes stared down at Cedric as Harry was pulled off of him. Harry was crying, Cho was crying, the Diggorys were crying, but nothing would come out of my eyes or my mouth. I felt utterly paralyzed.
"It's okay to cry—just cry, Lainey—please—" Astoria pleaded, the sobs clear in her shaky voice.
My eyes shifted in and out of focus as my body threatened to collapse. I felt Harper link his arm through mine, but I couldn't even turn my head to look at him. I shouldn't have been so shocked; I saw this coming. But for some reason—seeing Cedric's empty body—knowing that someone I cared about was no longer in the world—
"He was just so good at Quidditch!" Ashley wailed, jolting me back into reality. I took in a deep, gasping breath, and I heard Astoria sigh with relief next to me. "Quidditch players can't die!"
My blurred eyes caught onto Malfoy, who was now standing in the row in front of us. He stared at me, but I couldn't read his face—couldn't understand his emotions—
"Diggory was a pureblood!" Melody roared from the other side of Harper. "VOLDEMORT YOU NASTY SON OF A BITCH!"
"It wasn't even him!" Anderson insisted. "Diggory probably just died in the maze!"
"Diggory may have been a Hufflepuff, but he was a purer wizard than either of us, Anderson," Melody growled. "Purebloods don't just die like that—the Mudblood was right. I've seen it coming for months. That nasty prick is back."
"Can you stand? Lainey? Can you hear me?" Harper was saying in my ear, his arm now wrapped beneath my armpits as he struggled to keep me upright.
"We need—to get her to the castle," Astoria said on my other side. "She's going to have a panic attack—"
"Why couldn't it have been Adrian!" Ashley howled. "Why!"
"Shut up Ashley! This is serious!" Adrian's voice called from higher up in the stands.
"Help me, Astoria," Harper grunted as he tried to pull me along.
"I'm trying! I'm not very strong!"
"Just leave her, Harper," Melody snorted as we shuffled past her. I didn't even glance in her direction; my eyes were glued to Cedric—Cedric's body...as everyone sobbed over him—
"Lainey, I can't carry you," Harper huffed as he and Astoria tried to get me down the stairs.
I blinked, prying my eyes away from the scene of misery below. Without a word, I slowly began to trudge down the stairs, my body aching with each step. Once in the grass, Harper and Astoria didn't give me a chance to join the crying Hufflepuffs as they quickly ushered me out of the stadium.
I thought I saw the red hair of the Weasleys approaching us, but my vision was too dazed due to the lack of oxygen my lungs were taking in. There was nothing to say to them, anyway...
"It's okay, it's okay," Astoria assured me, rubbing my back as Harper helped me walk through the grass back to the castle. Even if it wasn't dark, I probably wouldn't have been able to see very well anyway. My mind was just a pile of pulp.
"There are other hunks at Hogwarts," Astoria cooed in my ear as we staggered back to the school. "Kent Higgins is spicy—but he's mine... I guess Theodore Nott is getting pretty cute—but I called him too... Harry didn't die in the maze! Maybe you can actually date him now—"
"Astoria, you're really not helping the situation," Harper panted, dragging nearly half of my weight. We were just entering the building now, and when the light in the corridors met my eyes, they immediately squinted shut.
"Don't stop her, Harper," I heard Melody's voice snap from behind us. "Any way of torturing this Mudblood is amusing."
"Lainey!" I heard voices call, but they were unrecognizable.
"Leave her alone!" Astoria shouted back at them. "She is grieving!"
"Lainey," Harper grunted. "I know you loved Diggory, but Malfoy and Weasley are still around—"
"He couldn't live without me," I mumbled, staring with wide eyes at the staircase that lay ahead. "And I let him die..."
"This has nothing to do with you, Lainey," Astoria insisted. "He just couldn't handle the maze—"
"It was You-Know-Who," I interrupted, barely hearing her words. "I knew it was going to happen—and it did—and I didn't do anything about it—"
"Well, even if you had predicted it, no one would believe you because you sound like a lunatic when you talk about the future and the past and whatever you see in your brain," Harper injected impatiently.
"God—I can't believe Voldemort killed a pureblood," Melody ranted bitterly. "That hypocritical muppet! I could be a better dark lord than him!"
"Isn't that your aspiration? To be the next dark lord?" Harper questioned sarcastically.
"Yes, actually. Now that Voldemort's back, I can kill him and claim his followers—"
"He is not back! There is no way! Scarhead killed him or whatever!" Astoria insisted hotly. "There is nothing to worry about—this was all a mistake—let's just be sensitive because Lainey is mourning. She'll never be able to see Cedric's hunky face again, and that's really a tragedy for all of us."
We were down in the dungeons now, and I could hear the cries of Ashley echoing through the corridors behind us.
"I hope Harry's okay..." I muttered to myself. "His leg was bleeding..."
"I'm sure Potter's fine," Melody insisted. "He survived Voldemort, so he's got to be fine. Maybe...maybe I'll have Potter kill Voldemort for me, and then I'll just kill him! Imagine how easy it would be to kill that dumb, glasses-wearing fool—"
"Don't say that," I snapped heatedly. "Harry's got humble reasons for killing You-Know-Who. You're just out for yourself."
"Boa constrictor," Astoria said when we got to the Slytherin entrance. The large, stone door slowly opened for us, revealing the empty common room.
"Thanks Harper," I mumbled as he let go of me. He glanced over at me with a wary expression as I closed my eyes. When I opened them, he was still staring at me with uncertainty. I'd almost hoped that whole thing was just a dream...
"C'mon, you should go lay down," Harper insisted, leading me toward the dormitories.
"I'm fine," I insisted, shrugging his hand off of my shoulder. "I'm fine. I'm strong. I can handle myself. Everything's fine. It's fine."
"Really?" Harper asked skeptically as we walked through the dormitory corridor. "Because you sound like you want to die."
"Just look on the bright side, Lainey: since Cedric's dead, you didn't have to take any pictures with your ghastly hair," Astoria put in weakly and Melody snorted. "What? I'm trying to cheer her up! I've never seen anyone die either. I think I'll pass next time. It's really not for me—"
"Astoria—just—thank you for helping me, but I think I'm all right," I said, letting out an exhausted sigh. We were at our door now, and I used my wand to unlock it.
"You know, Mudblood, I think I know why you're so upset," Melody drawled as we trudged into the dorm room. Harper stood in the doorway awkwardly, surveying me as I glanced lazily at Melody.
"Really? I didn't think you could comprehend the notion of caring for another individual," I sneered irritably.
"You were mad at Diggory for dating Chang—we all knew it," Melody snorted maliciously. "So you're bitter, and you wanted to see Diggory get old and ugly and live a full life of misery. You just can't stand to see that he died young, because those who die young are lucky. The longer you live, the more pain you have to endure, and you feel cheated because he got the easy way out."
My jaw dropped as all three of us stared at the purple-haired maniac with bulging eyes. "That's not why I'm upset! I'm upset because he didn't get to live a longer life! You're wrong—life allows you to be happy and love—"
"You really think those two go hand in hand, do you?" she spat, shaking her head. "Naïve little Mudblood—loving only gives you the opportunity to feel pain. Do you know why I don't love you? It's because if and when you die, I don't want it to affect me."
"You're really telling me that you wouldn't care if I just died? If any of us died? Love isn't something you choose, Melody—it just happens—"
"False," she injected harshly. "Infatuation and attraction are inescapable, Fitzroy, but when you love someone, that's a choice you make—a choice I have vowed never to make."
"Well, this complicates things for me..." Harper muttered to himself in the doorway. I was seething through my teeth, my fists clenched in anger. How could she brush Cedric's death away like it had never happened? How could she think so little of an event that changed so much?
"I won't let you poison our minds anymore, Flemming," I spat at her, my hand on the wand in my pocket. "And I won't let you infect Lyle with your disease of evil. He'll see you for what you are, I'll make sure of it."
Melody scrunched her nose, opting not to answer as I jumped carelessly up into my bed. Between Cedric's death, Voldemort's return, and Melody's insanity, my mind was flooded with an overwhelming sea of conflicting emotions—all of which I hoped would disappear with a good night of sleep.
Unfortunately, due to the fact that Cedric's dead face had stained my eyelids, I probably wouldn't get a good night of sleep tonight. I might not get a good night of sleep ever again.
The events in this chapter correlate with The Goblet of Fire Chapters Thirty-One through Thirty-Five.