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Summary
It was only after Harry and Cedric gripped the Cup that Harry felt that familiar foreboding. When the portkey spun them away from the Maze and dropped them in what appeared to be a graveyard.
“Stupefy,” a voice came from the mist and the red light of the stunner hit Cedric in the chest, dropping him to the floor.
“Cedric!” Harry cried, hitting his knees to check on his friend.
“Not to worry Harry, Young Master Diggory will be just fine in a little bit. Right now, we need to have a conversation,” looking up from the Hufflepuffs unconscious form to meet a pair of bright green eyes. Ones he’d seen looking back at him from the bathroom mirror everyday for the past 14 years.