The night of October 31st, 1981, marks the death of Lily and James Potter, the birth of the chosen one, and a single moment that connects two polar-opposite spellcasters, bonding them for eternity.
In their journey of self-discovery, secrets will b...
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Hey there, Delilah Don't you worry about the distance I'm right there if you get lonely Give this song another listen Close your eyes Listen to my voice, it's my disguise I'm by your side
"Where are we actually going?" inquired Harry, confusion marking his normally placid features.
"I'm not sure. Hey Dad! Destination?" Ron yelled after his father, as jovial as ever.
"Can't say I know, just stay close!" shouted back Arthur, his voice floating over the noise of the rushing crowd.
"Arthur! High time the boy came," Amos interjected, catching sight of the red-haired wizard.
"Apologies, Amos, we had a bit of a dozy start today," said Arthur, presenting Amos to the group. "This is Amos Diggory, my colleague at the ministry. And alongside him, the robust young man must surely be Cedric?"
"Yes sir," Cedric politely acknowledged.
Amos' eyes widened in realization as he noticed Harry. "Merlin's beard, you must be Harry Potter."
"Yes sir," concurred Harry, leading the way, "this way."
"The pleasure is all mine, great, great pleasure," affirmed Amos, his voice filled with wonder as he shook Harry's hand.
"The pleasure is mutual, sir," Harry retorted, a polite smile gracing his face.
They all continued their trek up the hill.
"Over there, sir," Arthur pointed to their destination, cresting the hill.
"Shall we then?" chimed Amos, energized, "We don't want to be late."
In the midst of the conversation, Amara stands silently observing everyone taking part in the exchange. Her striking bright blue eyes and bountiful brown curls effortlessly drawing attention. Out of the corner of her eye, Amara notices Cedric's eyes drift towards hers.
With a sense of enchantment, she found herself locking eyes with Cedric. His gaze was steady and intrigued, the feeling was mutual. With manners of a gentleman, Cedric extended his hand towards her. Hesitant, yet flattered, Amara offered her own hand, a connection was born as he raised it to his lips, sealing it with a courteous kiss.
Harry, observing this exchange, felt an unwanted spark of jealousy. An internal conflict emerged in his heart. He had been with Amara before and still held some feelings for her. But he fought against the urge to speak, clamping down on his rising discomfort.
Harry shared a glance with Ron, a silent communication that conveyed his jealousy.
Amos placed a boot on the ground as the teens look confused at the shoe. The older man perks up. "It's a port key, it will take us to the match!" he exclaims.
