Harry, I need to know exactly what happened. Harry heard a key scrape in a lock and felt a cup being pushed into his hands. "The Dark Lord got his body back? He's returned?" "The Dark Lord was there? What happened then?" "Cup was a Portkey," said Harry as they crossed the entrance hall. Harry?" the man asked at last as he lifted Harry up the stone steps. Across the lawn, past the lake and the Durmstrang ship, Harry heard nothing but the heavy breathing of the man helping him walk. Harry heard people gasping, screaming, and shouting as the man supporting him pushed a path through them, taking him back to the castle. Someone larger and stronger than he was was half pulling, half carrying him through the frightened crowd. "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. The scene flickered oddly before Harry's eyes.
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Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically. Don't you think you should tell him - before he sees - ?" "I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him -" "He's ill, he's injured - Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here, they're in the stands. "He'll need to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge was saying loudly. The crowd around them jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly in on him - "What's happened?" "What's wrong with him?" "Diggory's dead!" His injured leg would no longer support his weight. "ĭumbledore bent down, and with extraordinary strength for a man so old and thin, raised Harry from the ground and set -him on his feet. "He wanted me to bring him back to his parents. "He wanted me to bring him back," Harry muttered - it seemed important to explain this. Then Dumbledore's face, which was still blurred and misted, came closer. "Harry, let go of him," he heard Fudge's voice say, and he felt fingers trying to pry him from Cedric's limp body, but Harry wouldn't let him go. and then others shouted it - screeched it - into the night - "He's dead!" "He's dead!" "Cedric Diggory! Dead!" The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them. The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside down over Harry it looked white, appalled.
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He raised his free hand and seized Dumbledore's wrist, while Dumbledore's face swam in and out of focus. Harry let go of the cup, but he clutched Cedric to him even more tightly. He could see the stands rising above him, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above. He had come back to the edge of the maze.
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The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer Harry felt the ground beneath his head reverberating with their footsteps. He was looking up at the starry sky, and Albus Dumbledore was crouched over him. Then a pair of hands seized him roughly and turned him over. He remained where he was, his face screwed up against the noise, as though it were a nightmare that would pass.
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and all the while, his scar burned dully on his forehead.Ī torrent of sound deafened and confused him there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams. Shock and exhaustion kept him on the ground, breathing in the smell of the grass, waiting. He felt as though he would slide away into the blackness gathering at the edges of his brain if he let go of either of them. To hold himself steady, he tightened his hold on the two things he was still clutching: the smooth, cold handle of the Triwizard Cup and Cedric's body. All the breath seemed to have been knocked out of him his head was swimming so badly he felt as though the ground beneath him were swaying like the deck of a ship. He had closed his eyes while the Portkey transported him, and he kept them closed now. Harry felt himself slam flat into the ground his face was pressed into grass the smell of it filled his nostrils.