GLORY // book one

- PART 31- p a r t _ th r e e

THEO

~

PAIN. I FELT SO much pain.

". . . I could not touch him." I blinked, gaining full consciousness. My head rolled to the side, catching Voldemort in front of Harry. "It was old magic, something I should have foreseen. But, no matter."

I pushed myself to my knees, hands grasping my wand as I struggled to stay upright.

"Things have changed, I can touch you now." The monster darted forward, pressing his hand onto my cousin. The fourteen-year-old screamed in pain as I watched.

Lifting my wand with a shaky hand, I shouted the first thing that came to mind. "Imperio!"

The monster's hand jerked back, but my magic failed me a moment later. The bald man turned to me. "Look at that. Not many witches have the strength to cast an Unforgivable Curse. All for him?"

I threw him a cold sneer. "I don't like when people mess with what's mine."

I had to act tough, I had to be brave. Cedric wasn't moving— I needed to save him. I needed him. The snake-like man drew towards me. I eyed Harry, locking eyes with him for only a second. He shook his head, but I only smirked. I forced myself to my feet, swallowing slowly. Everything felt hollow and the edges of my vision were blurry— nothing was right. I could smell the rotten stench that followed the newly-revived beast, but I stared at him straight in the eye. I held my head up high despite the dizzy effect it had, keeping my wand low at my side, hidden in the darkness. Looking back at Harry once more, I flicked my wand towards him. The spell sailed straight to the statue holding him, my non-verbal spell working somehow, the stone crumbling silently in the darkness.

"You think you're so tough? So evil?" I bit, shaking my head as I took small steps back. "You're nothing."

The Dark Lord raised his wand, buying into my taunts and following me away from Harry. "Let's see then— huh, girl?"

I cocked my head, reaching behind to my waistband slowly. I pulled the cool metal of my pocket knife from my pants. "I'm probably the most powerful witch in the last fifty years. I doubt some half-blood like you could keep up— "

My words died in a choke as Voldemort towered over me, wand at my face. "You think you're so tough, Black? I killed your father and your mother. It will be my pleasure to kill you."

I stared up at him, my hand whipping forward. I aimed for his stomach, but somehow missed. Still, he stumbled back in shock, staring down at the slash in his arm. I sneered, dropping the knife. The Dark Lord bled.

I raised my wand instead, the worst curse on the tip of my tongue. "Avada— "

"Stupefy!" I stiffly fell onto my back, blasted away from the impact. I strained my eyes, staring at the writhing rat who killed my friend. My friend. My only fucking friend.

Peter Pettigrew stared down at me, wand in hand. I saw red. He stepped back into the shadows, leaving me frozen on the ground. I felt trapped, unable to do anything— I was trapped. A blast sounded in the graveyard, and it felt like an eternity before I was able to move. My joints were stiff as I forced myself up, shaking.

I half-crawled towards the fallen goblet, everyone else seemingly entranced by Voldemort and Harry. I watched the younger teenager with awe, hand inches from the cup as a large force shot from their wands. Everything went black for a few seconds.

When I blinked again, they were bound by some sort of force. I could still see that rat—

I raised my wand once more, feeling numb— wondering if I was dead. My voice was a broken whisper, barely there.