The Portkey
Harry and Cedric enter the area with the trophy. Only one can win. Now which one will gain the trophy?
“We both should take it,” Harry tells Cedric.
“What?”
“We are both Hogwarts students. Why should one of us win?”
“Because that's how it is supposed to work.”
“We have helped each other out throughout most of it.”
“I don’t know… I want to win.”
“Well this way we both win.”
Cedric stares at Harry clearly unsure but gives in, “Okay, sure.” Cedric grades Harry, helping him get to the trophy. Cedric places a hand on one handle, and Harry places his on the other.
“One, two, three…”
Cedric and Harry feel a jerk causing their feet to leave the ground. The cup somehow glued to his hand. The wind picking up in his ears causes him to not hear what is happening around him. The colors that were once very vibrant and defiant, are now swarming him. Causing the area around him to have a new color. A new chokingly bright color.
~~
Harry lands on a grassy ground, one that’s sorta familiar. He stands and looks around looking for Cedric. He is nowhere to be found.
He whispers, “Cedric? Where are you?” He looks around trying to see if maybe Cedric fell somewhere hidden but he doesn't see him. He takes in his surroundings and realizes that he is in the Quidditch pitch. It looks exactly the same.
As he is dusting the grass off his trousers he notices 2 people walking towards him with brooms in hand. He glances at them trying to see who they may be. They look to be in Gryffindor attire. They look to be Wood and someone he doesn't recocognize. They must be a first year. They come closer and something in Harry’s head clicks.
That's not Wood. He has seen pictures of that boy. And the other boy. He knows that face. He knows it well. It’s the face of his Godfather. Sirius Black. That must make the taller guy… his father. James Potter. How is this possible? His father is dead. He has been dead for over a decade. What did that trophy do to him? And where is Cedric?