Stardust

Chapter 16

Stella felt her feet slam into the ground; her hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. She raised her head.

"Where are we?" Harry said. Stella shook her head. She got up, pulled Harry to his feet, and they looked around.

They had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; they had obviously traveled miles — perhaps hundreds of miles — for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. They were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right. A hill rose above them to their left.

Stella could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside. Harry looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Stella.

"Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?" he asked.

"Nope," said Stella. She was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"

"I dunno," said Harry. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"

"Yeah," said Stella, glad that Harry had made the suggestion rather than her. They pulled out their wands. Stella kept looking around her. She had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched. "Someone's coming," she said suddenly.

Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward them between the graves. Stella couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, she could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, they were short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over their head to obscure their face. And — several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time — Stella saw that the thing in the person's arms looked like a baby... or was it merely a bundle of robes?

Harry lowered his wand slightly and glanced sideways at Stella. She shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure. It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second, Stella and Harry and the short figure simply looked at one another. And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all; his head was about to split open. Stella reached for him and helped him get back on his feet.

"Are you okay?" She whispered and he shot his eyes tightly. "Voldemore is here, isn't he?" She asked and he stared at her.

"Maybe," he mumbled and she nodded simply. She took his wand from the grass and gave it back to him, "You might want to keep onto this."

From far away, above their heads, they heard a high, cold voice say, "Should we kill the spare."

A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "No!"

Stella chuckled, "Didn't know you missed me so much," she yelled. But before she knew it there were ten people around her, dragging her away, she kept fighting but she couldn't escape all of them.

Harry felt the pain in his scar once again and the next thing he knew the short man in the cloak had put down his bundle, lit his wand, and was dragging Harry toward the marble headstone. Harry saw the name upon it flickering in the wandlight before he was forced around and slammed against it. Stella was tied next to him, although she still was trying to get out while other laughed. The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Harry, tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. Harry could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; he struggled, and the man hit him — hit him with a hand that had a finger missing. And Harry realized who was under the hood. It was Wormtail.