The Graveyard - A Different Fate
The moment Harry and Cedric landed, they knew something was wrong.
The air was thick with dark magic, suffocating and heavy. The tombstones surrounding them were jagged and ancient, casting eerie shadows under the dim, unnatural moonlight.
"Where are we?" Cedric whispered, wand already raised.
Harry didn’t answer—his scar burned horribly. A chill ran down his spine.
And then, from the darkness—
A voice.
"Kill the spare."*
But it wasn’t directed at Cedric.
A masked Death Eater stepped forward, wand raised. But before he could utter a curse—
A jet of green light shot from the side—hitting the Death Eater instead.
The man collapsed instantly.
Cedric and Harry spun, heartbeats thundering in their ears.
"What—" Cedric started, but then—
More figures emerged from the shadows.
One of them, Peter Pettigrew, was kneeling before a bundle of robes, holding something—no, someone.
A high, cold voice whispered, "It will be done…"
Harry froze. He knew that voice.
"Voldemort."*
Pettigrew was moving quickly, setting up some kind of ritual. He was reaching for something—Harry didn’t even have to think.
"Expelliarmus!"*
The force of Harry’s spell sent Wormtail’s wand flying.
Cedric stunned another Death Eater who had rushed at them.
"We need to move—" Cedric started, but then—
The bundle of robes shifted.
A serpentine face lifted slightly, red eyes locking onto Harry.
"Kill them!"* Voldemort hissed.
More Death Eaters appeared out of nowhere.
Spells flew in every direction.
"Protego!" Harry blocked a curse.
"Stupefy!" Cedric hit another attacker.
Harry and Cedric moved in sync, covering each other as they dodged curses. Harry’s mind raced—they couldn’t fight all of them.
And then—
"Accio Portkey!"
Harry yelled the spell, pointing at the Triwizard Cup lying a few feet away.
It soared through the air.
"Cedric—"
Cedric grabbed his hand.
The cup touched their fingers—
And then—
A violent pull—
They were gone.
The next thing Harry knew—he and Cedric crashed onto the ground, gasping for breath.
The arena erupted into chaos.
People were shouting. The professors rushed forward. Dumbledore’s sharp eyes locked
"Harry!" Draco’s voice pierced the noise, and before Harry could say a word, he was wrapped in Draco’s arms.
"You—you idiot!" Draco whispered harshly, clinging to him. "You scared me—"
"Draco, I can’t breathe—"
Draco tightened his hold.
Dumbledore and the other professors immediately surrounded them.
"What happened?"
"Who attacked you?"
"Where were you?"
Harry took a deep breath, still feeling the aftershocks of everything.
"Voldemort," he finally said.
A collective gasp rippled through the professors.
Snape’s face darkened, his hands clenching.
Lucius, who had been standing near Narcissa, visibly stiffened.
"He’s back," Harry continued, voice hoarse. "He tried to come back. But something went wrong."
"Wrong?" McGonagall pressed.
Harry’s gaze flickered to Cedric, who nodded slightly.
"One of his Death Eaters died before the ritual finished," Harry explained. "I think—it stopped whatever he was trying to do. He was weak, but he was still there."
Silence.
Then—
"And Pettigrew?" Snape’s voice was low, dangerous.
Harry grimaced. "He escaped."
Snape swore under his breath.
"This is a disaster," Lucius muttered, rubbing his temples. "The Ministry—"
"Will deny everything," Sirius interrupted. "Just like last time."
Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Then we must act before they do."
Lucius took a deep breath, then—
"I’m done hiding."
Everyone turned to look at him.
Lucius’s jaw tightened, but he looked directly at Dumbledore. "The Malfoy family is not aligned with the Dark Lord anymore. If the Ministry won’t act, then we will.*"
Harry stared.
So did Draco.
For the first time in his life, Draco saw his father take a step away from the past.
---
Before anything more could be said, the air crackled—
And then, with a loud pop, Cornelius Fudge appeared, surrounded by Aurors.
"What is the meaning of this?" Fudge barked. "What is this nonsense about You-Know-Who?"
Harry gritted his teeth.
"It’s not nonsense," he snapped. "He’s back, and if you ignore it, more people will die."
Fudge huffed, clearly unconvinced.
"This is dangerous talk, Potter. And you—" he turned to Lucius, eyes narrowing, "you of all people should not be spreading fear."*
Lucius lifted his chin. "And you, Minister, should not be ignoring reality."*
The audience gasped.
Fudge flushed with anger, but before he could speak—
Dumbledore took a step forward.
"Enough." His voice echoed, quiet but commanding. "Minister, if you refuse to listen, we will act without you. But know this—" Dumbledore’s blue eyes hardened, "—if you do nothing, you will be responsible for the consequences."*
Silence.
Fudge stiffened, then turned on his heel.
"We will discuss this later," he said stiffly, before disapparating.
Draco turned to Harry, still clutching his sleeve.
"You’re okay," Draco murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Harry managed a tired smile. "I’m okay."*
"Never do that again."*
Harry chuckled, then pulled Draco close. "Can’t promise that, Precious."*
Draco rolled his eyes, but didn’t let go.
And as the night settled, one thing became clear—
This war was only just beginning.