Emily Potter- Book 4 - Goblet Of Fire

Blood of The Enemy

Harry felt his feet slam into the ground; his injured leg gave way, and he fell forward; his hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. He raised his head, "Where are we?" he said. Cedric shook his head. He got up, pulled Harry to his feet, and they looked around.

They had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; they had obviously travelled miles - perhaps hundreds of miles - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. They were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right. A hill rose above them to their left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside, suddenly he felt a surge of fear in his veins, “Wait – Where’s my sister?” Cedric’s grey eyes widened, frantically looking around for Emily until he spotted her hugging her knees while she was leaning against a large tombstone.

Cedric picked her up gently, helping her to stand, “What happened?” He asked in a hushed voice. Emily’s eyes searched for Harry, when she caught sight of him she broke down in hysterics, “Harry...It’s happening.”

Harry looked at her, frightened, “What is? What’s happening?” Her green eyes were no longer glimmering and bright, but were now dark and morose, “The dream.” Emily whispered, “We’re in the dream.” Suddenly, Harry knew why it all looked vaguely familiar. Noticing this, he turned to see if Cedric had heard their conversation but he didn’t.

Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry, "Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?" he asked. "Nope," said Harry. He was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie. "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, glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him. They pulled out their wands, Emily held hers so tight that Cedric was scared she might snap it into two. Harry kept looking around him. He had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched, "Someone's coming," he said suddenly.

Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward them between the graves. Harry and Emily couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, they could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak, pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time - Emily saw that the thing in the person’s arms looked like a baby ... or was it merely a bundle of robes?

The twins lowered his wand slightly and glanced sideways at Cedric who shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure. It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second, Emily, Harry, Cedric, and the short figure simply looked at one another.

And then, without warning, Emily and Harry’s scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as they had never felt in all their lives; their wands slipped from their fingers as they put his hands over his face and hers over her neck as if she was trying to strangle herself; his knees buckled; she was on the ground and both could see nothing at all; his head was about to split open while hers felt like her neck was on a chopping block.

From far away, above Harry’s head, he heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare." A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!" A blast of green light blazed through Harry's eyelids, and he heard something heavy fall to the ground beside him; the pain in his scar reached such a pitch that he retched, and then it diminished; terrified of what he was about to see, he opened his stinging eyes.