"Those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly." For Iris Potter, these words defined her whole life. Born with a natural talent for Legilim...
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Iris felt her feet slam into the ground; her burn felt as though a massive pressure was on top of it, and she stumbled forward; her hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. She raised her head.
"Where are we?" Harry said.
Cedric shook his head. He got up as Iris pulled Harry to his feet, and they looked around.
They had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; they had obviously travelled miles —perhaps hundreds of miles — for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone.
They were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right. A hill rose above them to their left. Iris could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.
Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at the twins.
"Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?" he asked.
"Nope," said Iris. She was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"
"I dunno," said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"
"Yeah," said Harry, glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him.
They all pulled out their wands. Iris kept looking around her. She had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched.
"Someone's coming," she said suddenly.
Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward them between the graves. Iris couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, she could tell that it was carrying something.
Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And — several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time — Iris saw that the thing in the persons arms looked like a baby... or was it merely a bundle of robes?
Harry lowered his wand slightly and glanced sideways at Cedric. Cedric shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure.
It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second, Iris, Harry, and Cedric and the short figure simply looked at one another.
Out of nowhere, an old memory came crashing into her thoughts. A hissing voice, a green flash.
And then, without warning, Harry fell to the ground beside her, his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face, holding himself back from screaming in obvious pain.
From far away, above her head, Iris heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare."
A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!"
