Harry's beloved Quidditch pitch was now an overgrown forest in the shape of an elaborate labyrinth. Once the horns sounded, the maze sealed itself, trapping the four champions inside. It was eerily silent except for the bristly footsteps of the others. Harry stood frozen in anxiety. A twig snapped nearby, causing him to run towards the nearest turn.
After what felt like hours, facing creatures that he'd seen, and some that were totally unfamiliar, Harry saw the bright light. Stopping to admire its glow, another form started to rustle nearby. Cedric Diggory, covered in dirt and leaves, was dragged back into an unknown path. Harry had to make his choice fast, whether to leave him and take the cup, or to rescue him and lose his victory. He ended up picking the latter, and one yell of "RELASHIO!" seemed to do the trick. "Take it," he gestured to the trophy.
"No, you saved me."
"Cedric,"
"What're you waiting for?"
"Together!"
Both hands clamped onto the prize, but to their surprise, a familiar feeling arose. The cup warped them into another place, and it was too late before they noticed. The cold grass graved Harry's face as he fell into the graveyard. Looking up, he saw the face of Draco Malfoy and his father. His assumptions were correct.