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"What?" Marina's voice cracked. She shook her head and looked up at Harry, seeing him as a blurry dot because of the tears in her eyes.
"Let's grab it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it, Marina," he said. She got up from the ground; the pain in her leg traveled through and up her body, a loud groan forming in her stomach and chest. The noise escaped her lips when Harry continued, "We have helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here."
"I don't think we can do that, Potter," she answered, clutching her leg with her hand as the blood flowed down it.
"They can't stop us."
When she looked at him again, he was smiling a weak smile. "You're crazy, Potter, do you know that?"
She tried to ignore her pain when they together walked toward the end of the Tournament. Although her hand was covered in crimson, thick blood, Harry reached for it. She intertwined their fingers quickly without thinking much about it. She could feel his fingers tremble. He was afraid. And so was she.
"On three, right?" said Harry. "One - two - three -"
The pair grabbed the cup, their free hands finding their ways to each their handle. Instantly, their feet had left the ground. A howl of colors blinded them. They were pulled upwards, before they suddenly slammed into the ground. Marina's leg gave away, and she fell face-first on the ground. The next thing she saw was darkness; a black pit.
"Where are we?" Harry asked.
They had left the Hogwarts grounds, and traveled hundreds of miles. They were in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right.
"Is this a part of the task?" he asked, his eyes still on the old house. "Marina?"
Marina tried to answer, but couldn't press out a single word. Trying to move, she found herself almost paralyzed. Was it because of her loss of blood? Had her body panicked? She was finally able to open an eye. Harry was no longer looking at her. Looking behind him, she spotted leaves from the big tree across the graveyard suddenly falling to the ground. Out of the dark shadows, someone was coming; a figure. Could it be-
"Marina, I don't think we're alone," Harry whispered, taking a step back. Cold and wet grass met with Marina's face and lips when she tried to speak and ending up diving deeper into the ground. She doubted the shadow was her father. Whoever it was, was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face.
Then, she realized who it was: Peter. This was her father's return. He was bringing him back.
Harry drew his wand slightly as Peter stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. And then, without warning, Harry shrieked; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground. Marina's whole chest filled with a horrible feeling.
