Not me, not I
Harry Potter stumbles into the Inn after a long absence. He lands roughly on the floor, breathing heavily and attempting to swallow, but his throat is too dry and closed.
The last thing he can remember is holding on to Cedric's dead body and touching the portkey just in time.
His arm is bleeding, his leg hurts, and his whole body is writhing in pain after several Cruciatus curses given from Voldemort, himself, and he's shaking merely the intense effort to survive the last few minutes. And there are tears in his eyes from having seen the ghost of his parents, his mother's voice in his ear. His chest feels like it will explode and he's not quite sure that he would mind if it did.
Cedric is dead.
Because of him.
God, he's so glad he's here and not back home yet.
The last thing he can remember is holding on to Cedric's dead body and touching the portkey just in time.
His arm is bleeding, his leg hurts, and his whole body is writhing in pain after several Cruciatus curses given from Voldemort, himself, and he's shaking merely the intense effort to survive the last few minutes. And there are tears in his eyes from having seen the ghost of his parents, his mother's voice in his ear. His chest feels like it will explode and he's not quite sure that he would mind if it did.
Cedric is dead.
Because of him.
God, he's so glad he's here and not back home yet.