Butterfly Effect ; H. Potter

49. barty crouch jr.

Antheia and Harry slammed flat into the ground; their faces pressed into the grass; the smell of it filling their nostrils. Antheia had closed her eyes while the Portkey was transporting them, and she opened them only slightly now. She was not ready to face the reality of what had just happened to her and Harry. She felt Harry's hand tighten around her wrist and he, too, did not look as if he wanted to move an inch from where they were.

A torrent of sound deafened and confused her, there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams ... they remained where they were, their faces screwed up against the noise.

Then a pair of hands seized her roughly and turned her over.

"Harry! Antheia!"

Antheia's eyes adjusted to the light.

She was looking up at the starry sky, and Albus Dumbledore was crouched over them. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer; Antheia felt the ground beneath her head reverberating with their footsteps.

Antheia could tell Dumbledore was questioning why Antheia was with Harry but she, exhausted and worn-out, couldn't be bothered to explain.

Harry raised his free hand and seized Dumbledore's wrist.

"He's back," Harry whispered. "He's back. Voldemort."

"What's going on? What's happened?"

The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside-down over Harry and Antheia; it looked white, appalled.

"My God - Diggory!" it whispered. "Dumbledore - he's dead!"

The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them ... and then others shouted it - screeched it - into the night - "He's dead!" "He's dead!" "Cedric Diggory! Dead!"

"Antheia, let go of him," she heard Fudge's voice say, and her fingers detached from Cedric's limp body.

"He wanted us to bring him back," Harry muttered - it seemed important to explain this. "He wanted me to bring him back to his parents ..."

Dumbledore bent down and, with extraordinary strength for a man so old and thin, raised Harry and Antheia from the ground, and set them on their feet. The crowd around jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly in on them - "What's happened?" "What's wrong with them?" "Diggory's dead!"

"He'll need to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge was saying loudly. "He's ill, he's injured - Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here, they're in the stands ..."

"I'll take them, Dumbledore, I'll take them -"

"No, I would prefer -"

"Dumbledore, Amos Diggory's running ... he's coming over ... don't you think you should tell him - before he sees -?"

"Harry, Antheia, stay here -"

Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically ... the scene flickered oddly before Antheia's eyes ...

"It's all right, I've got you ... come on ... hospital wing ..."

"Dumbledore said stay," said Harry thickly, the pounding in his scar making him feel as though he was about to throw up; his vision was blurring worse than ever.

"You need to lie down ... come on, now ..."

Someone larger and stronger than them was half pulling, half carrying them through the frightened crowd; Antheia heard them gasping, screaming, and shouting as the man supporting him pushed a path through them, taking him back to the castle. Across the lawn, past the lake and the Durmstrang ship; Antheia heard nothing but the heavy breathing of the man helping them walk.