The Lively Little Hangleton Graveyard

The stars and moon had been swallowed up by the suddenly drifting dark clouds, leaving only a few hanging in the distant sky. Although there were bonfires and candles, the entire arena was still much dimmer, and the young wizards no longer shouted at the top of their lungs.

On the judges' stand, Bagman once again craned his neck, gazing longingly at the maze, only to find it still pitch black and he couldn't see anything clearly. He then sighed in dejection.

Maxime and Fontana were a little confused. Why did the commentator seem more anxious than their principal?

Dumbledore slowly picked up the teapot and poured tea for himself and Crouch beside him. The tea served to the guests was of very high quality, with a clear and bright red color. Taking a deep breath of the fragrant tea, one could almost taste a slight sweetness in the aftertaste.

"Give me a drink too."

Frustrated to the point of wanting to pull his hair out, Bagman picked up a cup of hot tea and brought it to his lips, ignoring the rising steam and the scalding pain on his tongue. The burning sensation actually made him feel much better.

He put down his teacup, making a crisp sound as he tapped it on the table, exhaled a puff of hot air, and said in a gruff voice, "I don't know what's so good about this. I've seen you all drinking it all night."

Crouch licked his upper lip and chuckled softly, "It's too dry."

"Yes, it's much drier here Durmstrang." Karkaroff replied, turning his gaze away and trying to sound casual. "By the way, Albus, where's your Potions Master Professor Snape? I haven't seen him tonight."

Dumbledore turned to look at him, his deep blue eyes revealing a penetrating power completely different from before, and slowly said, "He is unwell and is resting in the Hospital Wing."

"Really? That's really unlucky, of all times it had to be tonight."

"Who can argue with that?"

"..."

The night grew deeper.

The lion head hat was casually placed on the empty seat. The four people, each with a Coke bottle in their hand, leaned back in their seats, sometimes counting stars, sometimes looking at the maze.

Loren grabbed Hermione's hand and glanced at his watch. It was already 10:30. He hesitated for a moment and asked, "If the match continues until midnight, wouldn't that count as a group night out, and that we've even left the Castle?"

Hermione, with a straw in her mouth, glanced at him sideways with a complicated look in her eyes.

Rolf's ears twitched. Seeing the little girl beside him with a interested expression, as if she really wanted to discuss this issue with him, he quickly fed her a cashew.

Luna, with cashews in her mouth, couldn't speak easily, so she continued to gaze at the moon in a daze.

The narrow, curved shape was half-hidden by dark clouds, its light dim and hazy.

Loren glanced back and saw the figure beside the barrier shrink further into the shadows. He sniffed, smelling the Gillyweed scent emanating from the referee's table, then turned away with a smirk. "I'm going back to the Castle to use the restroom."

Hermione glanced at him but didn't say anything.

Little Hangleton.

Unidentified weeds grow in the desolate Graveyard. A yew tree with a thick trunk but withered branches and leaves stands alone in the wilderness, just like the nearby tombstones. A stone sculpture of Angel of Redemption holding a long sickle lies toppled on the ground.

With the help of the faint starlight, one can vaguely see various stone carvings scattered all around, resembling an abandoned chapel. On the left hillside, the outline of Riddle House is faintly visible.

The Graveyard, which had been undisturbed for over a decade, suddenly rippled. The space within several dozen feet around it abruptly collapsed and then expanded, and the maze of light and shadow formed by the hedges flashed by like a mirage.

In the blink of an eye, three figures suddenly appeared, and the exquisite trophy fell to the feet of the angel statue.

Harry felt his feet hit the ground and stumbled, releasing the trophy. Noticing that his surroundings were completely different from Hogwarts, he instinctively exclaimed in surprise, "Where are we?"

The eerie Graveyard was completely silent. The withered leaves rustled in the breeze, and an unsettling feeling lingered in their hearts, as if someone was watching them.

"Have no idea..."

Cedric looked down at the trophy. "It's Portkey, Harry. Has anyone told you this trophy is a Portkey?"

"No." Harry recalled the scene he witnessed before being taken away by the Portkey, stood side by side with Cedric, and looked warily at the limping, Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts opposite them. He said in a low voice, "I think Professor Moody can give us the answer, right?"

Harry felt a throbbing pain in his scar. He seemed to understand something, and holding his breath, he moved slowly, whispering to Cedric, "Go back to the trophy, go back to the trophy..."

"Of course! You will know the answer, you should know!" The man said this to Harry, seemingly ignoring Cedric's presence, and looked to the side, saying loudly and coldly, "Come out."

Harry and Cedric squinted nervously into the darkness as a figure emerged from between the tombstones and walked towards them. Their face was obscured by the darkness, but their gait and arm movements suggested it was a woman.

The woman stopped in front of a towering marble tombstone. With a light flick of her wand, a ball of flame suddenly burst forth in the center of the not-so-spacious open space.

A fire appeared in the dark wilderness, and Harry and Cedric then discovered that there was a black cauldron not far away. It was more like a Stone Cauldron than a cauldron, and it was spacious enough to accommodate an adult sitting inside.

Flames crackled and popped from beneath the crucible, continuously simmering the medicinal herbs inside. Boiling bubbles burst, and the sound of splashing water could be faintly heard.

Harry took the opportunity to get a clear look at the face of the person opposite him, and his throat tightened as he uttered her name: "Bellatrix Lestrange".

Cedric had certainly heard of the wanted fugitive's name, and a cold sweat broke out on his back as he pointed his wand at her intently.

"I know you must be full of doubts..."

Moody's voice was completely different from usual, shrill and piercing. His scarred face twisted into a wide, crooked grin, like a viper baring its fangs, radiating a chilling aura. A terrifying change had occurred—

The scars and pits began to grow flesh and skin, filling them up little by little. The bright blue demonic eye suddenly flipped upwards and fell out of its socket. The wooden prosthetic leg fell to the ground, and a perfectly intact leg grew out from the broken end.

Professor Moody was right before their eyes, gradually transforming into Crouch's likeness!

Crouch face was unusually pale, twisted his neck and continued, "After we finish our business, Harry Potter, I will answer all your questions."

"Mr. Crouch?!" Cedric exclaimed in surprise. He immediately raised his wand. "No, you're not Mr. Crouch, and you're not Professor Moody. Who are you? What do you want?!"

Crouch didn't even glance at him, and walked towards the crucible, casually leaving behind the instruction. "Get rid of the troublemakers first."

A whooshing sound followed by a sharp scream ripped through the night sky.

"[Avada Kedavra] "

A bright green light pierced Harry's eyelids. Professor Moody had demonstrated the Killing Curse before, but this green light was unlike any other spell he had ever seen. It seemed to contain countless mournful and desperate cries.

"No, please..."

"Spare my child!"

"Ah!"

Through the green light, this second seemed endless. His scar throbbed with intense pain, as if sharp steel needles were piercing his skull, making his head feel like it was about to explode. He vaguely saw that distant night, in that despairing house, where a couple had also faced such despair.

Loren stood behind the railing at the back of the stands, watching Dumbledore and Crouch pour tea for each other and chat amiably on the judges' table. The breeze carrying the aroma of tea and the faint scent of Polyjuice Potion wafted towards him.

"Winky, are you there?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a clear, muffled thud rang out in the air, and the figure of the House-elf appeared in front of Loren.

Winky tilted his head back, his dark eyes looking at him anxiously. "Mr. Morgan, Mr. Potter and Mr. Diggory have been taken away by Professor Moody! Is this normal? Should we inform the principal?"

"I think Professor Dumbledore already knows." Loren lowered his head and looked into Winky's big eyes. "This is a conspiracy by someone impersonating Professor Moody, and it may also be part of Dumbledore's plan. There is also a Death Eater accomplice sitting on the judge's bench. I'm not sure if we should expose him now."

Upon hearing this, Winky was so anxious she almost cried out, "What do we do now? We have to do something! The House-elf of Hogwarts have a duty to protect every student!"

"I do want to do something, and I need your help." Loren took a breath, gripped his wand tightly, and placed his other hand on Winky's shoulder.

"House-elf ' magic is different from wizards'. Defensive magic within the school's boundaries won't work on you..." Loren paused for a moment, "Do you know Little Hangleton?"

Winky paused for a moment, her expression blank.

Loren wasn't disappointed and continued, "I know where they are. You need to take me out of Hogwarts grounds first, then leave the rest to me."

Without any hesitation, Winky raised her right hand and pinched her middle finger and thumb together. With a soft sound, the two disappeared from the spot.

Loren hid behind the collapsed church wall, next to a tombstone with an inscription that was already blurred. Not far ahead, firewood crackled, and the fierce flames licked at a black crucible. On either side of the crucible, Loren saw four people standing opposite each other.

Moody's clothes, worn by Crouch, looked rather tattered compared to his usual neat suits and elegant formal wear. His eyes, which revealed one leg, were filled with joy as he gazed at the crucible.

Inside the crucible, bubbles bubbled and boiled more and more violently, spewing sparks like lava, except that the surface of the water was not crimson, but a dazzling silver light like diamonds.

"Get rid of the ones in the way first."

As the man's light voice faded, Bellatrix beside him swiftly unleashed a green beam of light, heading straight for Cedric.

With a thought, Loren sent a stream of Magic Power, as clear as lake water, into his wand and out through its tip. The Magic Power rippled and swayed in the darkness of the night, and in an instant, it spread to Cedric, who was twenty feet away. The water-like Magic Power froze instantly and split into two streams.

A Magic Power shield, now invisible and transparent, collided head-on with the Killing Curse, while another, a slightly fainter green light, slammed into Cedric.

Cedric only felt a flash of green light, and before he could carefully perceive the details of the Killing Curse, a powerful impact sent him flying, crashing straight into a pile of fallen leaves. His body then stiffened, and he was unable to move.

In a daze, he heard the sound of glass breaking, and something crashed heavily past him. Harry turned his head and stared blankly at Cedric's body, which had been thrown more than twenty feet away, half of it buried in the hay, its legs dangling limply outside, lifeless.

Harry's mind couldn't process what he was seeing. He felt as if he were back in the Potions Classroom, manipulating Legilimency. Apart from a vague sense of disbelief, he felt nothing else—no sadness, no fear, no anger. He was as indifferent as a bystander.

The hooded Witch pointed her wand at his chest, and an invisible force pulled him off the ground, spun him around, and slammed him into the base of the scythe angel statue. The stone sculpture, under the effect of Transfiguration, bound him.

The cold, hard scythe gripped his chest, Harry gasped for breath, his emerald eyes taking in everything around him:

Bellatrix killed Cedric, so the one who could touch his wounds was Voldemort, who was plotting his resurrection... He had to find a way to leave, no, he had to find a way to escape.

The tombstone next to it bears the name Tom Riddle ... Winky in the starlight is the Triwizard Tournament trophy, a Portkey, and a little further on, Cedric's body lies with two legs protruding from the pile of fallen leaves.

"Ugh! Ugh!"

Hidden behind haystacks and the remains of stone statues, with only a narrow slit peeking out, Cedric's face was pale. Even under the petrifying effect of the Binding Charm, his cheeks still twitched wildly as he tried to express himself with the only part of his body that could move:

Go save him! Hurry and save Harry!

"What's wrong? Is your face twitching?"

Loren crouched behind the stone statue ruins, his eyes peering through the narrow gap, his voice carrying only within a few feet of him.

"Behave yourself. If I hadn't arrived in time, your father, Mr. Amos Mr. Diggory, would be the one having cramps right now."

Cedric tilted his head, his expression clearly conveying his question: Why was his father having cramps?

"You'd cry your eyes out... You'd be so excited to see your son return in glory, only to be greeted by a corpse. Do you think your parents would cry their eyes out?"

Loren blinked, and in his eyes, a crystalline blue light and cloud-like shadows intertwined, as if everything in his sight had lost its color, leaving only countless outlines drawn by delicate white lines.

It turned out that I had rushed to Cedric's rescue. If Dumbledore didn't know about Voldemort's scheme, that would be one thing, but since I exposed Professor Moody's true colors so early, he couldn't have been unprepared.

There's only one truth: Dumbledore is definitely hiding somewhere nearby, and he knows I'm coming.

We must find this old man!

"..."

The humanoid silhouette bound in mid-air represents Harry, whose Magic Power is in a strange state, flowing at a steady, unhurried pace; Bellatrix, standing in front of him, has normal Magic Power.

The most eye-catching figure was Crouch, or rather, Voldemort, standing in front of the crucible.