Two champions were clearly down, and it was now the Boy-Who-Lived and myself fighting for a Triwizard Tournament win. I had just barely escaped the wrath of a Chimera, sprinting past it after giving it an Impedimenta to knock it back. It appeared that once a person escaped certain landmarks of the maze, the beast (or enchantment) within the set boundaries stopped attacking. As soon as I got to the end of the hedge at my left, the Chimera instantly stopped charging at me, and the Cup was within my grasp.

I turned the corner and continued to sprint, seeing a slightly dark image in my peripheral view. It had to be Harry, but I did not stop. We were competitors now, runners approaching the final sprint, the finish line within my view.

"Cedric! On your left!"

My feet stopped me quickly and I instantly turned to my left. There was a large, black spider, pouncing at me. I instantly dove forward and the spider just missed me with its pincers outstretched. I crept backwards away from the spider, using my left hand for support while my wand arm stood outstretched. I saw a beam of light go towards the spider and it was illuminated with a red exterior, the spider’s eight eyes rolling into its head. The beam then stopped, and the spider’s eyes didn’t turn toward me again. I didn’t know if it was intentional, to turn the spider off me and toward Harry, but whatever the reason, I was now fighting for Hogwarts and not Cedric Diggory.

Harry continued trying spells and I didn’t know what to do, it was obvious that there was no use in attacking the spider, directly that is. Then, my thoughts turned into reflexes as the spider picked Harry up, who tried kicking the spider to knock himself out of its grasp. My old strategy abandoned, I fired every spell I could think of, the thought of sending "red sparks" not even within my mind.

Harry might not be the brightest, the coolest, or the most handsome, but when it comes down to instincts he has the best around. The disarming spell not near the list of incantations my mouth was sputtering, Harry performed Expelliarmus, which led to his twelve foot fall. It just happened that I was yelling Stupefy as he fell, because he shouted the same spell right when he landed. The two curses met in mid-air, joined to create a large red beam of light, and then hit the spider in the stomach. It stood no chance, and keeled over.

As Harry lay limply on the ground, I began to blame myself. We had just learned the power of two combined spells the previous month in school, and it should have been the first thought in my mind. How could I be so idiotic? There was only one way to make up for it, let Harry have the Cup.

"Harry! You all right? Did it fall on you?" I asked. The answer was obvious, but I had nothing else to say.

I began to slowly walk over to him, the two sides of my mind debating each other on which action to choose. I was, in effect, giving up the Triwizard Tournament. I earned it, the point was who would get to the Cup first. And I, undoubtedly, would get to the Cup first. I did earn it. I had gotten through the first two tasks unscathed, and made it this far. I would help Harry up, and then sprint to the Cup.

My feet continued to move me, my mind on a different plane. This was it. Harry put up a good fight, but the Cup was mine. I stopped. My eyes moved onto his leg. There was a yellow, liquid secretion on Harry’s robes from the spider, and a large bleeding slash mark on his leg. I couldn’t do it. There was no way I could just beat Harry like this. If he didn’t try to Stun the spider to change its direction, I would be the one lying on the ground, a large slash mark on my leg. All previous thoughts left me, instinct took over again.

"You take it. You should win. That’s twice you’ve saved my neck in here."

Harry reiterated my previous thoughts, but I wouldn’t let them return to my mind. In the fairness of competition, I won. If all was to be justified, he won. He had been the better person. He waited for the champions to get to the captives. He wanted an even playing field, and told me about the dragon. Once again, Harry told me to take the cup.

"No."

"Stop being noble. Just take it, then we can get out of here."

Noble? That’s what he called this? I was doing it to allow the better man to win, and I had to justify my point. "You told me about the dragons. I would’ve gone down if you hadn’t told me what was coming."

"I had help on that too," Harry angrily retorted, "You helped me with the egg— we’re square."

My mind raced back to Moody. "I had help on the egg in the first place."

"We’re still square."

"You should’ve got more points on the second task. You stayed behind to get all the hostages, I should’ve done that."

"I was the only one who was thick enough to take that song seriously! Just take the Cup!"

"No." I couldn’t believe what I was saying, I couldn’t believe what was occurring. When I thought about the Triwizard Tournament and the possibility of winning it, I never thought I’d be arguing with Harry to take the Cup.

I thought one more time.

I then told myself not to think about it. I knew what the right thing to do was, and there was no need to try to convince myself the other way. Without looking back, I walked over the spider and to Harry. "Go on," I told him. It hurt me to say this, it really did, but I had won. Maybe not the tournament, but the war going on within my body. I could feel my classmates, my father, and even a part of myself telling me to just take the Cup, but it wasn’t worth it. There was no reason to think about it any longer. I knew the right choice, if I were to think harder all I would be doing was justifying the wrong thing to do.

Harry looked at the Cup, and a blank gaze came over his face. He clearly was weighing both sides of the issue, just as I was. He deserved to take it, and I hoped he was realizing this.

"Both of us."

"What?"

"We’ll take it at the same time. It’s still a Hogwarts victory. We’ll tie for it."

It was the best idea I’d heard yet. "You— you sure?"

Harry consented. I was a bit shocked, more that Harry came up with the best suggestion yet. I smiled. "You’re on. Come here." I helped Harry over to the Cup, and we both grabbed it at the same time. I shut my eyes, feeling a jerking sensation in my stomach. I thought it was victory.

How very wrong I was.


"Where are we?" Harry asked me. I opened my eyes, and I wasn’t at the center of the maze. We were in a dark, shady cemetery, clearly hundreds of miles away from Hogwarts. I shook my head, then pulled Harry to his feet.

"Is this supposed to be part of the task?" Harry asked me. I wasn’t sure, though I was thinking the same thing. We consented on pulling out our wands, then waited, until Harry heard someone coming. We peered through the darkness, and saw a hooded figure, holding a bundle of robes that looked like a baby. We stared at it, until I saw Harry clutch his scar.

A deep, whispering, omnipresent-like voice muttered, "Kill the spare."

I had no clue what was going on. Without thinking, I heard one more voice, a screeching yell. "Avada Kedavra!"

Life was now my past. Afterlife was now my future.


I was in a room, faced by an old wizard. He had an odd look, seemingly incorporeal yet in the physical plane none-the-less. He looked at me, nodded, and then said in a deep, booming voice, "You have died, and now have the decision whether to become a ghost, or move on to the next stage of life."

He moved his hand, and behind him two doors appeared. On the left, a mahogany door with a brass knob, appearing home-like and innocent. On the right, a pure white door with a golden knob, appearing majestic and grand. "Hold on a moment," said the booming voice, "it appears there are two more things for you to see." The mahogany door opened, and I looked inside it.

There was the graveyard, with Harry and Lord Voldemort trapped within gold strings. "Priori Incantatem…" I muttered. "That means…" without having the chance to say it, I felt myself being sucked forcibly toward the wand of Voldemort. I entered through the bottom, and then was pushed upward with a sensation like a vacuum. I looked, and I was back in the corporeal world. I floated over to my comrade, my classmate, my friend, and had one thing to say.

"Hold on, Harry." He nodded. I continued circling the dueling arena, hissing at the Dark Lord and encouraging the Boy-Who-Lived. Bertha Jorkins (wasn’t she the witch my dad said went missing?), then Harry’s parents joined me. Finally, Mr. Potter told Harry how to escape the situation, and get back home.

Then the thought struck me, my parents. I had one last plea, "Harry… take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents." He nodded. Mr. Potter then counted to three, and Harry forcibly brought his wand down, breaking the connection.


My body snapped back. I was in the room again, the old wizard still staring at me. "Have you made your choice?" I nodded. "Well, there is one more thing to factor into your decision." He pulled open the mahogany door again, and put his hand on my shoulder. I looked inside it, and saw Hogwarts, garbed in black, with Dumbledore at the head of the End-of-Term celebrations.

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house. He was a
good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about.

Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so— either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

My ears had to be deceiving me. I was just a normal, seventh year Hufflepuff, who managed to get himself killed by and next to possibly the greatest wizards of all time.

"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remembered what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."

The old wizard slowly shut the door shut. He opened his mouth, but before he could say another word I spoke.

"There’s no need to tell me any more. The white door, please." I walked to it, opened it, and a blinding light went through the room. I entered.