Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Don’t break the connection. 
 
I know.
Harry told the music, 
I know I mustn’t
… but no sooner had he thought it, than the thing 
became much harder to do. His wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever… and now the 
beam between him and Voldemort changed too… it was as though large beads of light were 
sliding up and down the thread connecting the wands - Harry felt his wand give a shudder under 
his hand as the light beads began to slide slowly and steadily his way… The direction of the 
beams movement was now toward him, from Voldemort, and he felt his wand shudder angrily…
As the closest bead of light moved nearer to Harrys wand tip, the wood beneath his fingers grew 
so hot he feared it would burst into flame. The closer that bead moved, the harder Harry’s wand 
vibrated; he was sure his wand would not survive contact with it; it felt as though it was about to 
shatter under his fingers – 
He concentrated every last particle of his mind upon forcing the bead back toward Voldemort, 
his ears full of phoenix song, his eyes furious, fixed… and slowly, very slowly, the beads 
quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly, they began to move the other way… and it was 
Voldemort’s wand that was vibrating extra-hard now… Voldemort who looked astonished, and 
almost fearful…
One of the beads of light was quivering, inches from the tip of Voldemorts wand. Harry didn’t 
understand why he was doing it, didn’t know what it might achieve… but he now concentrated 
as he had never done in his life on forcing that bead of light right back into Voldemort s wand… 
and slowly… very slowly… it moved along the golden thread… it trembled for a moment… and 
then it connected…
At once, Voldemorts wand began to emit echoing screams of pain… then - Voldemort’s red eyes 
widened with shock - a dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished… the ghost of 
the hand he had made Wormtail… more shouts of pain… and then something much larger began 
to blossom from Voldemorts wand tip, a great, grayish something, that looked as though it were 
made of the solidest, densest smoke… It was a head… now a chest and arms… the torso of 
Cedric Diggory. 
If ever Harry might have released his wand from shock, it would have been then, but instinct 
kept him clutching his wand tightly, so that the thread of golden light remained unbroken, even 
though the thick gray ghost of Cedric Diggory (was it a ghost? it looked so solid) emerged in its 
entirety from the end of Voldemort s wand, as though it were squeezing itself out of a very 

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narrow tunnel… and this shade of Cedric stood up, and looked up and down the golden thread of 
light, and spoke. 
“Hold on. Harry,” it said. 
Its voice was distant and echoing. Harry looked at Voldemort… his wide red eyes were still 
shocked… he had no more expected this than Harry had… and, very dimly Harry heard the 
frightened yells of the Death Eaters, prowling around the edges of the golden dome… More 
screams of pain from the wand… and then something else emerged from its tip… the dense 
shadow of a second head, quickly followed by arms and torso… an old man Harry had seen only 
in a dream was now pushing himself out of the end of the wand just as Cedric had done… and 
his ghost, or his shadow, or whatever it was, fell next to Cedric’s, and surveyed Harry and 
Voldemort, and the golden web, and the connected wands, with mild surprise, leaning on his 
walking stick…
“He was a real wizard, then?” the old man said, his eyes on Voldemort. “Killed me, that one 
did… You fight him, boy…” 
But already, yet another head was emerging… and this head, gray as a smoky statue, was a 
woman’s… Harry, both arms shaking now as he fought to keep his wand still, saw her drop to 
the ground and straighten up like the others, staring…
The shadow of Bertha Jorkins surveyed the battle before her with wide eyes. 
“Don’t let go, now!” she cried, and her voice echoed like Cedrics as though from very far away. 
“Don’t let him get you, Harry - don’t let go!” 
She and the other two shadowy figures began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, 
while the Death Eaters flitted around the outside of it… and Voldemort’s dead victims whispered 
as they circled the duelers, whispered words of encouragement to Harry, and hissed words Harry 
couldn’t hear to Voldemort. And now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemorts 
wand… and Harry knew when he saw it who it would be… he knew, as though he had expected 
it from the moment when Cedric had appeared from the wand… knew, because the man 
appearing was the one he’d thought of more than any other tonight…
The smoky shadow of a tall man with untidy hair fell to the ground as Bertha had done, 
straightened up, and looked at him… and Harry, his arms shaking madly now, looked back into 
the ghostly face of his father. 
“Your mother’s coming…” he said quietly. “She wants to see you… it will be all right… hold 
on…” 
And she came… first her head, then her body… a young woman with long hair, the smoky, 
shadowy form of Lily Potter blossomed from the end of Voldemort’s wand, fell to the ground, 
and straightened like her husband. She walked close to Harry, looking down at him, and she 

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spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others, but quietly, so that Voldemort, his face 
now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear…
“When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments… but we will give you time… 
you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts… do you understand, Harry?” 
“Yes,” Harry gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding 
beneath his fingers. 
“Harry…” whispered the figure of Cedric, “take my body back, will you? Take my body back to 
my parents…” 
“I will,” said Harry, his face screwed up with the effort of holding the wand.
“Do it now,” whispered his father’s voice, “be ready to run… do it now…” 
“NOW!” Harry yelled; he didn’t think he could have held on for another moment anyway - he 
pulled his wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke; the cage of light 
vanished, the phoenix song died - but the shadowy figures of Voldemort’s victims did not 
disappear - they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze - 
And Harry ran as he had never run in his life, knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as he 
passed; he zigzagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following him, hearing them hit the 
headstones - he was dodging curses and graves, pelting toward Cedric’s body, no longer aware 
of the pain in his leg, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do - 
“Stun him!” he heard Voldemort scream. 
Ten feet from Cedric, Harry dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw 
the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it. Gripping his wand more tightly, he dashed out from 
behind the angel – 
“Impedimenta!” he bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters 
running at him. 
From a muffled yell, he thought he had stopped at least one of them, but there was no time to 
stop and look; he jumped over the cup and dived as he heard more wand blasts behind him; more 
jets of light flew over his head as he fell, stretching out his hand to grab Cedric’s arm…
“Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!” shrieked Voldemort. Harry’s hand had closed on 
Cedric’s wrist; one tombstone stood between him and Voldemort, but Cedric was too heavy to 
carry, and the cup was out of reach – 
Voldemort’s red eyes flamed in the darkness. Harry saw his mouth curl into a smile, saw him 
raise his wand. 

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“Accio!” Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Triwizard Cup. It flew into the air and soared 
toward him. Harry caught it by the handle – 
He heard Voldemort s scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel 
that meant the Portkey had worked - it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and color, and 
Cedric along with him… They were going back.