Easy - The Girl who Lived Forever (Harry Potter's Sister)

Graveyard

I hit the ground, frozen. I couldn't move, or scream. There was someone in the forest. I heard the muttering of a spell, and a small cup levitated from the shadows, coming to land on my hand. Instantly, I felt a jerk somewhere behind my navel. My body had left the ground.

Portkey.

When the howl of wind disappeared, my body was thrown to the ground, and I could move again. I struggled to my feet and looked around

I had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; I had traveled miles – perhaps hundreds of miles – for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. I was standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to my right. A hill rose above me to my left. I could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.

Why was I here? Why had someone gone out of their way to kidnap me?

The Goblet of fire. My name and Harry's had been entered.

Conspiracy. It was a conspiracy. The cup was going to lead here as well.

I tried to recall the voice from the forest. I recognized it, but ... it wasn't possible. it couldn't be him.

I was pulled from my thoughts by a noise behind me. I watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily towards me between the graves. I couldn't make out a face; but from the way it was walking, and holding its arms, I could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever they were, they were short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over their head to obscure their face. And – several paces nearer, the space between them closing all the time – I saw that the thing in the person's arms looked like a baby ... or was it merely a bundle of robes?

The they came into the light, and I took a step back in shock.

Peter fucking Pettigrew.

We stared at each other for a moment, before my scar on my neck exploded with pain. Pettigrew took advantage of my weakness, shooting a Cruciatus curse at me.

It was pain beyond anything I had ever experienced; my very bones were on fire; my head was surely splitting; my eyes were rolling madly in my head; I wanted it to end ... to black out ... to die ...

And then it stopped.

But not for long.

Pettigrew was ruthless, showing no mercy in the torturous curses he sent towards me. Cruciatus, Lacero, Diffindo. I was defenseless, my magic weakened by my injuries. My body was wet with blood. Pettigrew stepped forward again, the kind of maybe baby still in his arm, when there was a pop.

"Where are we?" someone said.

Harry.

Instead of a curse, Pettigrew cast a levitation charm, and my body lifted weakly into the air.

"Did anyone tell you the Cup was a Portkey?" someone else asked. Cedric. Oh no. Oh no no no no no. Pettigrew was showing mercy towards me because I was the Girl-Who-Lived. Cedric had nothing to offer him.

"Nope," said Harry. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"

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

"Yeah," said Harry. They were silent, and I whimpered slightly as I was pulled closer. Hear me hear me hear me.

"Someone's coming," he said suddenly.

Pettigrew stepped out, and the three stared at each other for a moment. Harry gasped with pain, dropping to the floor.

From somewhere near Pettigrew, a high, cold voice spoke. "Kill the Spare."