PHANTOM FIGURES | harry potter

62. veritaserum

     Aspen felt herself slam flat into the ground; her face was pressed into the grass; the smell of it filled her nostrils. She had closed her eyes whilst the Portkey transferred her, and she kept them closed now (it's not like she'd be able to see anything anyway, her vision would be extremely blurry). She did not move. All the breath seemed to be knocked out of her; her head was swimming so badly she felt as though the ground beneath her were swaying. To hold herself steady she tightened her hold on the Triwizard Cup. She felt as though she would slide away into the blackness gathering at the edges of her brain if she let go of the handle. Shock and exhaustion kept her on the ground, breathing in the smell of the grass, waiting... waiting for someone to do something... something to happen... and all the while, her head continued to pound mercilessly...

     A torrent of sound deafened and confused her; there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams... She remained where she was, her face screwed up against the noise, as though it were a nightmare that would pass...

     Then a pair of hands seized her roughly and turned her over.

     "Harry! Aspen!"

     She opened her eyes, involuntarily letting out a relieved sob.

     She was looking up at the starry sky, Albus Dumbledore was crouched over her and Harry. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer; Aspen felt the ground beneath her head reverberating with their footsteps.

     They had come back to the edge of the maze. She could see the stands rising above her, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above.

     Aspen let go of the Triwizard Cup and brought herself closer to Harry, desperate to hear his breaths, or feel his heartbeat beneath his chest. Everything was swimming in and out of focus but she could see Harry grab onto Dumbledore's wrist and whisper, "He's back. He's back. Voldemort."

     "What's going on? What happened?"

     The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside down above Aspen; 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!" "He's dead!" "Cedric Diggory! Dead!"

     "Harry, let go of him," she heard Fudge's voice say.

     Apparently Harry didn't listen, for Dumbledore told him, "Harry, you can't help him now. It's over. Let go."

     "He wanted me to bring him back," Harry muttered. "He wanted me to bring him back to his parents..."

     Aspen had no energy to speak to Dumbledore, she had tears streaming down her face and was clutching her head in her hands. The pain was unbearable, she wanted to scream but knew she shouldn't. She felt as though the image of Lord Voldemort was tattooed onto the back of her eyelids and every time she blinked she saw him there, standing menacingly with his evil smile and bright red eyes.

     "That's right, Harry... just let go now..."

     She saw Dumbledore's body bend forward and bring Harry to his feet, he then did the same to her. Aspen felt like she was going to topple over again the moment she was standing on the ground. Everything was spinning and she felt incredibly dizzy. She swayed. The crowd around them jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly in on them - "What's happened?" "What's wrong with them?" "Diggory's dead!"

     "They'll need to go to the hospital wing!" said Fudge loudly. "They're ill, they're injured - Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here, they're in the stands..."