"The moon is the reflection of your heart and moonlight is the twinkle of your love."
There is something haunting in the light of the moon; it has all the dispassionateness of a disembodied soul, and something of its inconceivable mystery. The moon...
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Harry and Elara felt themselves slam flat into the ground; their faces were pressed into grass; the smell of it filled their nostrils. They had closed their eyes while the Portkey transported them, and they kept them closed now, hugging each other tightly. They did not move. All the breath seemed to have been knocked out of them; their head was swimming so badly they felt as though the ground beneath them was swaying like the deck of a ship. To hold himself and Elara steady, Harry tightened his hold on the two things he was still clutching – the smooth, cold handle of the Triwizard Cup, and Elara's waist as Elara held onto Cedric's body. He felt as though he would slide away into the blackness gathering at the edges of his brain if he let go of either of them. Shock and exhaustion kept both Harry and Elara on the ground, breathing in the smell of the grass, waiting... waiting for someone to do something... something to happen... and all the while, Harry's scar burnt dully on his forehead...and Elara's red eyes flickering back and forth...
A torrent of sound deafened and confused the two, there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams... they remained where they were, their face screwed up against the noise, as though it was a nightmare that would pass...
Then a pair of hands seized Harry roughly and turned him over along with Elara.
''Harry! Harry! Elara?!''
Harry and Elara opened there eyes. They were looking up at the starry sky, and Albus Dumbledore was crouched over them. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer; Harry and Elara felt the ground beneath their head reverberating with their footsteps. The two had come back to the edge of the maze. They could see the stands rising above them, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above. Harry let go of the Cup, as Elara clutched Cedric to her even more tightly, sobbing uncontrollably. Harry's heart broke as he looked at the broken Elara in his arms, as he held her tightly and protectively as if she would disappear if he let go. Tears streamed down his eyes as e watched the always happy and cheerful girl shattered into pieces. He gazed at Cedric's motionless body and the pain he felt increased as he looked at the lifeless body of the person who had always been like a big brother to him. Who was there with him and fought against his house for Harry's innocence. But now, that brother laid dead on the ground as his sister cried over him. He could do nothing but watch.
He raised his free hand and seized Dumbledore's wrist, while Dumbledore's face swam in and out of focus.
''He's back,'' Harry whispered. ''He's back. Voldemort.''
''What's going on? What's happened?''
The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside-down over Harry; it looked white, appalled.
''My God – Diggory!'' it whispered. ''Dumbledore – he's dead!''
The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them... and then others shouted it – screeched it – into the night – 'He's dead!
