BORN TO DIE    ╱    DRACO MALFOY
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ . written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
075 ━━━━━ ❛ the maze to the grave ❜

It was the day of the last task, and Olivia couldn't help the nerves that she was feeling. This was it. If she won this, she'd win the tournament. If Potter or Diggory won this, they'd win the tournament. If Fleur or Viktor won this, which wasn't likely based on their performances in the other tasks, then they'd win the tournament. Those were the stakes up ahead, and Olivia felt faint because of them.

From where she stood underneath the bleachers with the other champions, she could hear the band playing. Her gaze, however, was focused forward, watching as Mr. Diggory, who stood in front of her beside his son, stepped out onto the grounds in front of the maze for everyone to see him, with the boy following. Then Fleur walked out alone since Madam Maxmime was too tall to fit where they were, no doubt making her way to the Head Mistress. Following the blonde were Krum and Karkaroff, then Dumbledore, Olivia, and Potter.

Olivia's eyes found her friends cheering for her as she looked around at the crowd in the stands, and that made her feel just the smallest bit better. Crabbe had 'Krum' painted in red across his forehead, and Goyle was holding up a flag that cheered for the same champion, while the others had signs and flags in her honor, but still, they were there, and that was all that mattered to her.

Draco was wearing his all-black suit, locking eyes with her and cheering even louder as he pumped his fist in the air. She just rolled her eyes and shook her head in amusement, knowing one of the reasons why he was wearing that attire.

What didn't make her feel better was her eyes landing on her mother, sitting next to both her father and Snape, looking stern. Olivia just shifted her eyes away and focused on the ground, then glanced around at her fellow champions.

All of them were, once again, clad in uniforms that not only represented their schools but also their houses when talking about the Hogwarts champions, as they stood in the center of the field with their next task—the maze—behind them. Diggory stood with his father, while she and Potter stood next to one another. Krum was with Karkaroff, and Fleur was with her sister and Madam Maxime. Dumbledore made his way to the podium, looking out upon all the ones in the stands.

"Sonorus!" the Headmaster called out, the spell making his voice louder so that everyone could hear. And everyone did. The music from the band died down quickly, along with the cheers of the crowd, and the people in the stands sat down, waiting for the man to continue. "Earlier today, Professor Moody placed the Triwizard Cup deep within the maze. Only he knows its exact position," he began explaining. "Now, as Mr. Diggory..."—a part of the crowd cheered, interrupting his words as Diggory's father grabbed his son's wrist and pulled both of their arms up—"and Miss Mallard," more of the crowd cheered, jumping up in their seats, "and Mr. Potter," another group of loud cheers cut through the Headmaster's words, "are all tied for first position, they will be the first to enter the maze, followed by Mr. Krum"—more loud cheers were heard, this time coming from the Bulgarians—"and Miss Delacour."

The cheers continued as Olivia, Potter, and Diggory each made their way to their sections of the maze, preparing to enter when told to. Potter was to the left, Olivia was in the middle, and Diggory was to the right.

"The first person to touch the cup will be the winner!" He continued, and the crowd got louder with their excitement. Olivia just rolled her eyes, not understanding why this was so entertaining to her schoolmates. They could die, for Merlin's sake! "I've instructed the staff to patrol the perimeter. Should, at any point, a contestant wish to withdraw from the task, he or she need only send up red sparks with their wands." He lifted up his wand, then turned around to face the three that were to enter first. "Contestants! Gather around. Quickly!" he instructed them, and Olivia wondered why they were made to go to their spots in the first place if they were just going to be called away from them, but she didn't question him out loud.

All five of the champions made their way towards Dumbledore, gathering around him as they were told. He placed his hands on Krum and Fleur's shoulders, huddling them together. "In the maze," he started in a low tone so that no one else would be able to hear them, "you'll find no dragons or creatures of the deep. Instead, you'll face something even more challenging. You see, people change in the maze." Olivia wanted to roll her eyes at his dramatics. She was certain it wasn't that bad. "Oh, find the cup if you can," he encouraged. "But be very wary; you could just lose yourselves along the way." He dropped his hands from Fleur and Krum and walked away. "Champions, prepare yourselves!" His tone was back to its loudness from before. The crowd started cheering and applauding once more as they made their way back to their marks.

Olivia looked over her shoulder, stealing one last glance at her friends, then her parents and Snape, and then her eyes fell back onto Draco's for a moment longer than the rest before she faced forward, shaking her hands and arms to rid herself of her nerves. She could do this. She would do this. She survived a dragon and its fire, as well as almost drowning and the merpeople. She would do this.

What the bloody hell was a maze going to do anyway? Bury her in its leaves? She almost laughed at the thought, finding herself amusing, but Dumbledore's voice rang in her ears before she could. "On the count of three," he instructed. "One..." And then the cannon fired, and the band began playing their music again.

Someone really needed to stop Filch from being the one in control of that thing. He clearly didn't know his head from his arse. Luckily, this was the final task, meaning no more cannon.

Olivia, Potter, and Diggory entered the maze slowly, still confused as to whether they were supposed to go yet or not. Olivia had her wand clutched tightly in her hand. She couldn't see Potter or Diggory as she made it a few steps between the bush walls on either side of her, only the stands and people cheering behind her. That was, until the entrance of the maze began closing, leaving her in silence and alone. Though she wasn't truly alone, she had the branches and leaves around her to keep her company; besides, Potter and Diggory were in there somewhere. She was sure she'd encounter them at least once. And perhaps even the things Dumbledore had warned them about, whatever those were.

She began walking, sucked into the silence of the maze around her. This was it. This was the last task. This was the finale, the final thing she could win—to prove herself to not only her mother or the others rooting against her, but to herself. She would do this. Her wand was drawn and pointed forward as she continued her steps. She was trying her best to ignore the chittering and strange noises around her—to ignore the things lurking in the shadows and walls of the maze. All she focused on was what was in front of her and her breathing, keeping herself as calm as she could be. It was the weirdest feeling she had as she went further and further into the maze—it was as if something was pulling her towards it. She hoped that whatever it was, it was the cup. She would win if she could just find the cup.

She continued walking for about five more minutes, which felt like forever, when a chill crept down her spine, like someone or something was breathing down her neck. She turned and heard rustling around one of the many corners of the maze. She felt her breathing grow heavier as she backed away, trying to remain out of sight. When her back hit the wall of the maze, she felt it sink just slightly, not enough to get a reaction out of her. She just watched where she heard the rustling coming from, seeing a head peek at her, and her eyes went wide.

When she went to draw her wand, her wrist was restrained—there was something not allowing her to move her arm from her side. She looked down, seeing a vine wrapped around her skin, digging its thorns into it tighter and tighter as it coiled itself like a snake around its prey. She hurried to remove her wand from her left hand with her right and cut through the vine with a nonverbal spell as quickly as she possibly could. The feeling of the person approaching beside her was strong.

As her wrist finally broke free, she saw two small pricks in her skin, but she didn't care. She moved away from the wall of the maze, and her wand was back in her dominant hand, just fast enough for her to lock eyes with Krum, who stood across from her with glazed eyes and a stiff body as he toyed with his wand in his hand. She wasted no more time, lifting her wand and casting, "Stupefy!" and watching as the boy fell to the ground, not having even raised his wand. It was odd, but she didn't think too long about it, needing to get away as fast as she could. She needed to get the cup as fast as she could.

Now, knowing not to go near the sides of the maze around her, Olivia turned and ran in the opposite direction of where Krum was, stunned on the ground, following the drawing feeling she felt. It had to be the cup, didn't it? It wanted her to come and get it—to win the game. It wanted her to beat the other champions. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on her part. Whatever it was, she wasn't giving it up because it was giving her the push she needed.

She liked to win, and she would. She was determined.

She continued to run, turning corners whenever she could and felt it was necessary, but then she came to a sudden halt. Her eyes were trained in front of her, her breathing was heavy with the intense rise and fall of her chest, and she felt as if she were frozen in place. Her mother stood in front of her with her usual stern scowl and her hands clasped in front of her. Olivia's face was twisted in confusion, staring at the woman while she itched her arm, where the vines had pricked it. Why was her mother there? Well, she was there, in the stands, but not in the maze. Then movement at her mother's feet caught her eye, and she looked down just quick enough to see a familiar black cat running past her.

"Tommy?" she muttered in confusion, her brows furrowed as she moved forward to follow her beloved pet. She went past her mother, not even paying her any mind. She wasn't there—not truly, at least; Olivia knew that. When she turned the corner, trying to keep up with the cat, her eyes caught onto something—someone else. She was an all-too-familiar girl with familiar blonde hair, familiar fair skin, and familiar blue eyes, but she looked to be about two years younger than the last time Olivia had seen her.

Tommy went to run past the girl, who was squatting down on the ground, but before he could get around her, she caught him with her hand under his stomach and brought him towards her. He meowed in a way that told Olivia that he wasn't frightened or worried, that he trusted the girl, and that he knew her well. But then, Daphne lifted something. A knife. She lifted a knife and plunged it right into Tommy's side repeatedly before Olivia could even blink.

"No!" Olivia screamed in horror, taking a step forward as her eyes brimmed with tears. But before she could get to the girl or her pet, they disappeared into a cloud of smoke, like they hadn't been there at all.

They hadn't been there.

What was happening to her? Was she seeing things? No, why was she seeing things?

Before she could spiral completely, she felt a tap on her shoulder, and she turned around swiftly, expecting to see the phantom of her mother staring at her sternly. Instead, she saw herself—her broken, brittle, and gone-through hell and back self. Her boggart. The thing that she had made fun of, not believing it to be her greatest fear.

Broken Olivia was staring at her, with cuts covering her dirty face, and had a devious smirk curled at her mouth. Her eyes were even darker than the real Olivia's were, as if she had been through and seen so much that she had lost the last amount of light in her soul.

It made Olivia sad.

So, not wanting to face her any longer, Olivia turned and began walking away, needing to find the cup so that she could win. She was hoping that the shadow would just disappear like the others did—that it would leave her alone to do what she needed to do. But her hope wasn't well placed, and she heard the shuffling of feet behind her, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a second, fighting back the tears. Then she opened them, forcing herself to focus forward and not give the fake her any mind.

"It's your fault, you know," the battered version of her said. "All of it is utterly your fault. It's always your fault, Olivia." She poked Olivia's back roughly, pushing her forward just slightly. But she was ignored, causing her to scoff. "You can't ignore me forever. I am you, after all. This is what you'll become." She took a step closer to Olivia's back, narrowing her eyes. "You'll be broken, hollow, completely soulless, nothing but a monster."

Olivia flinched at the words but continued walking.

Fake her was on her trail like a Seeker was on a snitch as she turned corners and continued further into the maze with hurried steps. "I will always be here. Past, present, future—I am never going to go away, no matter how hard you try to block me out." It was just her boggart; she knew that, and all she had to do was keep reminding herself. She just needed to find the cup, and then she'd be rid of her. "Come on, Liv, accept it. You claim to be so strong, so scary, and so feared, but you're not; you're just weak."

"I thought I was a monster," Olivia retorted, not looking back. She knew she shouldn't say anything and should just remain quiet. Those words didn't mean anything. The Olivia behind her wasn't real, just a phantom of her imagination, her greatest fear, apparently, and neither were her words.

The other Olivia chuckled, seeming so amused about how she finally got acknowledged. "You are," she replied, then fell silent for a beat. "But all monsters have weaknesses." Her voice was almost sing-song, like she knew something Olivia didn't.

Olivia went quiet again, and finally, so did the shadow. They just walked, and Olivia could feel her presence behind her as she turned corner after corner, following the tugging feeling. She knew the cup was somewhere close—it had to be. She felt it in her bones. And then she turned one last corner, and a glowing light caught her eye, shining from a path in front of her. There it was, just straight ahead. The cup sat on a stand, waiting for someone to grab it—waiting for her to grab it.

She smiled to herself, excited to be so close to a victory. Her eyes scanned around her as she took a few steps forward and looked down the other paths, searching to see if anyone else was around, but there was no one in sight besides her and her three shadows.

"Who are we looking for?" the one behind her whispered, leaning forward as she looked around herself.

Olivia just rolled her eyes, ignoring her, and moved forward, going towards her prize. The other followed her, right on her heels. And just as they reached the cup, Olivia glanced over to the one who had moved to stand beside her, smirking.

"I guess our time together is up," she said with a smirk, the soft blue highlighting her face. And when Olivia went to open her mouth to respond and let her gratitude for that be known, the other cut her off. "...for now."

Olivia gave her a bored look, and the smirk just deepened.

Then she lifted her hand, wanting to hold the cup and actually win the prize. But then the sound of rustling behind her sounded, and she turned around swiftly. Potter and Diggory stood just at the end of the path, staring at her with wide eyes, their gazes flickering between her and the cup, not even noticing the other version of her.

Could they see her? Surely they could; she was a boggart. Unless she wasn't. Was she just a hallucination like Daphne, Tommy, and her mother? Olivia's mind was swirling, but before she could think about it for too long or even try to make sense of it, the boys started running towards her, fighting each other off.

"What are you doing? Grab the thing, you idiot!" the other shouted at her.

Olivia glanced at her, then at the cup. She could grab it, and Potter and Diggory's efforts wouldn't matter. But she wasn't sure. She was hesitant, and she didn't know why. The shouts and grunts of the boys rang in her ears as they fought against the walls of the maze and the vines that were shooting out at them, and she focused back on them. Why had it been so easy for her to get there, but not for them?

The question quickly slipped from her mind when Diggory was dropped to the ground as a vine wrapped around his ankle. Potter continued running for a few more steps as the other Olivia yelled at her again to grab the cup before he got there. But she didn't want to. They had all suffered so much throughout the tournament, all for it to come down to whoever grabbed a cup first. It was stupid. She hadn't even wanted to win in the first place. So why did she want to now?

Potter slowed down, looking back at Cedric, then glanced forward at Olivia and the cup. Both their gazes went from each other back to their Hufflepuff schoolmate as he began to be dragged back, further away from them.

"Grab it! Grab it, Olivia! Now!" The other ordered with fury as Olivia, who flinched slightly at the loudness of her voice and allowed her chin to wobble barely, just focused on the two other champions in front of her, who were just as deserving of this win as she was.

Potter looked at her and the cup again.

"Harry!" Diggory called out pleadingly. Potter turned back around, seeing the vines snapping onto his opponent and pushing him into the ground further. "Harry! Olivia!"

Olivia couldn't take it anymore. She began running forward, her wand clutched in her hand, as she made her way towards Cedric, not caring anymore if Potter took this chance to get the cup for himself or not. She wasn't going to just let Diggory be dragged away. It was the least she could do after he helped her figure out the egg. As she came to a stop in front of him, she thought about what to do, knowing that she couldn't simply pull the vines off of him. And they were too thick, and there were too many tangling vines around him for her to simply cut them.

"Reducto!" Potter cast from behind her.

The spell hit the vines, just barely brushing past Olivia in the process. The vines broke off of Diggory, lessening his restraints as Olivia and Potter stared down at him. Potter ran closer, beginning to rip off the vines as Olivia did the same. Diggory stood up, followed by both of the younger champions, all of whom were panting heavily. Glancing at the cup, Olivia saw that the other was no longer there. She knew boggarts didn't give up that easily, so had she truly been seeing things?

"Th... Thanks," Cedric told them.

"No problem," Harry replied.

Olivia remained quiet, contemplating whether helping Cedric had been a good idea or not. She could've won, but if she hadn't helped, him being hurt or killed would've been her fault. And not everything was her fault; she was going to make sure of that.

"You know, for a moment there, I thought you were gonna let it get me," Diggory said to Potter, and then he turned to Olivia. "And I thought you were gonna grab the cup without a second thought." He breathed out an amusement-less chuckle.

"For a moment, so did I," Olivia and Potter replied at the same time.

Cedric didn't even flinch at that. "Some game, huh?"

"Some game," said Potter.

Olivia didn't say anything as the other's words from before rang in her mind. Grab it! Take it! And her mother's letter repeated in her thoughts along with it. I expect better from you. I want you to win. Your father and I both want you to win, no matter the cost. We know you want that too—to do our family's name right. Do better.

Slowly creeping in the direction of the cup, she finally made up her mind. A moment ago, she was fine with giving up the cup and the victory. But now, she wasn't. She should've been, but she wasn't. She had to win. She had to be the best. She couldn't be a disappointment to herself, her friends, or her family's name. She needed to get back to the cup and take the victory for herself. Without Potter or Diggory.

She had tried to help the boy from the vines alongside their fellow champion, but that didn't mean that she wanted to share her victory with either of them. She couldn't share her win. She knew both of them—not too well, but well enough. They were so mighty with their character that she knew they would come to some sort of agreement that benefited both of them. Luckily for her, she was not the same type of person. Not always, at least.

Before she could get too far, however, there was some rumbling from the distance, and then the wind picked up. Olivia stopped in her tracks, all three pairs of eyes looking ahead. "Go!" Cedric ordered, and he and Potter started running. Olivia felt a hand on her wrist, and then she was being dragged along by the Hufflepuff and towards the cup. They ran as fast as they could, coming upon their prize.

"Go on, take it," Diggory told Potter and Olivia loudly over the noise. "You saved me; take it!"

"Together," Potter replied. "On the count of three, one..."

"No!" Olivia spoke matter-of-factly, loud enough for them to hear. She had slipped her wrist from Diggory's hold and made her way to stand next to the cup. She was going to take it. She was not going to share her win with them two.

The boys turned to face her. "Olivia, what are you doing?" Potter asked.

"I'm going to win!" she stated loudly.

"Come on, Olivia, don't be selfish!" Potter threw his hands forward, trying to convince her.

"But I am selfish, Potter!" Olivia retorted, sounding angry. The rumbling of the vines crawling towards them and making the path smaller and smaller with each second grew louder, and they all glanced behind them.

"No, you're not, Olivia," Diggory interjected, catching her attention again as he placed his hands on her arms and moved slightly closer to her. "You tried to save me! You showed that you're not!"

"That doesn't matter!" she shouted, tearing from his hold. "I got here first!" She pointed a telling finger at him, pushing it into his chest. "I was going to win. And then you two had to show up and ruin it!" She was so angry, but she didn't know if it was with them or herself. "I shouldn't have helped you, Diggory. I should've let it take you." She could tell her words cut deep, but she tried to make herself believe she didn't care. She wasn't weak. "I have to win this! I have to."

"We can all win this together!" Cedric tried to reason. "You can show people that you're not the monster they think you are!" He paused, looking into her eyes pleadingly as he bent slightly down so that he was at somewhat eye level with her. "Come on. We have to do this now!"

The maze continued to climb towards them, moving faster and faster. If she didn't decide between what she knew to do in her mind and what her soul was telling her to do, then neither of the three of them would win, and this would've all been for nothing. Was it better to win alongside two others or not win at all? Would she rather die or share her victory? Did she want to be a monster, or did she want to be selfless?

Sighing, her brows furrowed as if she were in pain, trying to answer her questions. She already knew the answers, though. They'd all die if she didn't agree, and she wasn't ready to die just yet. So she nodded, and all three of them jumped for the cup just as the vines reached them. They twisted and twirled, lost in a stream of glowing blue light, before they hit the ground hard and let out grunts of pain. The cup bounced away from them due to the force of the impact, and they let out gasps and pants as Potter and Olivia began standing up.

Olivia glanced over to her right, on her hands and knees, as she coughed in pain, trying to see where they were, and her gaze caught onto the name "Riddle" etched onto the front of a headstone. Her eyes went wide with fear as she stood up completely, brushing her hands on her shirt.

They were in a graveyard, it seemed.

"You two okay?" asked Cedric.

Olivia just glanced over at him, meeting his gaze, and nodded.

Then the boy's eyes fell on Potter, who said, "Yeah. You?"

Diggory nodded, standing up. Then he looked around, placing his hands on his hips as his face twisted into confusion. "Where are we?"

"We appear to be in a graveyard," Olivia replied sarcastically, receiving a bored look from the boy. She just smirked, her annoyance clear, though she was now glad she hadn't gone alone, knowing that this wasn't where the champion who got the cup was supposed to go once they won. "But the real question is, why were we here?"

No one answered her question, not having one, but the crows cawed, making her feel a little less ignored. The three of them began walking slowly around the graveyard, as if they were trying to find any clues.

"I've been here before," Potter breathlessly admitted.

Olivia looked at him over her shoulder with confusion as she followed Diggory over to the cup. When she faced forward, coming to a stop beside the Hufflepuff, who fell down to the ground to get a closer look at their prize, she studied the thing curiously, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's a Portkey," Cedric said, almost seeming amazed. A smile cracked on his face, and he glanced up at Olivia, sending it to her. He then focused back on the cup. "Harry, the cup is a Portkey." His voice was loud enough for the other boy to hear.

"I've been here before," Potter repeated, a little louder this time. "In a dream." He went quiet for a moment, making Olivia curious, so she and Diggory moved a little closer. "Cedric! Olivia! We have to get back to the cup. Now!" He spoke with urgency in his tone just as the two came up beside him, a mere six or so feet away, with Olivia to Cedric's right, closest to Potter.

"What are you talking about?" asked Diggory as Olivia's brows knitted in confusion.

And then there was creaking, catching all of their attention. They looked where it was coming from, and Olivia's eyes went wide when she saw none other than Peter Pettigrew. That blasted rat!

Potter shouted when his gaze caught onto the man, putting his hand on his scar as he hunched over in pain. The bottom of the large cauldron they stood behind then came to life with fire. Cedric and Olivia moved closer to the boy. "Harry! What is it?" The boy fell to his Gryffindor companion's side.

"Get back to the cup!" Potter ordered, still holding his scar.

Cedric stood, his wand drawn, and grabbed Olivia's wrist, pulling her along with him. He lifted his wand, and Olivia lifted hers as well, subconsciously stepping in front of the boy. Both pointed their wands at Peter, and Olivia could've sworn he was holding a small, uglier (if even possible), wrapped-in-a-blanket-like-a-newborn-would-be version of what Voldemort was described to look like in the horror stories she'd heard over the years. But it couldn't be, could it? Voldemort was dead.

Right?

"Who are you? What do you want?" Diggory questioned Peter loudly.

All that was said, in a raspy and hissing voice, was, "Kill the girl and the spare!"

Olivia's eyes went wide just as Peter cast, "Avada Kedavra!" She dove down to the ground quick enough before the green light hit her. It whooshed over her head as Potter shouted, "No!" and she thought she was in the clear. And then she heard something hit the ground with a thud. She looked behind her and saw Cedric lying on the ground. Lifeless. "Cedric!" Potter's voice rang in her ears. Olivia's eyes went wide, but she snapped out of whatever trance she was in when she heard Peter start on the next wave of the deadly curse, not even having a second to think before she stood up and ran, trying to find a place to hide.

She found herself behind a tall statue, with her back against its cold stone, and her eyes trained the dead boy so that she could still see from where she was. She heard the same raspy voice—the one that told Peter to kill her and Cedric—say, "Forget about the girl; she can't escape. We'll get her later."

From her hiding place, she could only see a small portion of what was going on as Potter was lifted by Pettigrew's wand and pushed against a statue on one of the headstones labeled Riddle. The sound of stone turning was apparent as the statue moved to hold the boy in place, keeping him put and just where he was wanted. Then the ghastly-looking man, holding what Olivia now truly believed was a small, wrinkled, and weak version of the infamous Lord Voldemort, lifted his master above the cauldron and then dropped him inside it.

The liquid that the dark wizard had been put in splashed and steamed. Then Peter turned to Potter, his wand pointed in his direction, as he said, "Bone of the father, unwillingly given." And a bone was lifted from beside him, going over to Peter, and then the cauldron.

It was clear to Olivia then that they were making some type of potion. To what end, though? To bring Voldemort back? What were they up to? Her mind riddled itself with questions as she watched the bone catch fire and be dropped into the cauldron as the brewer revoked the levitation power from his wand, which he tucked away in the pocket of his jacket. "Flesh of the servant," Pettigrew then removed a knife from where he put his wand, "willingly sacrificed." He then severed his right hand from his body, screaming with pain as Olivia flinched and looked away, squeezing her eyes shut. It took her a second, but then she turned back around to continue watching. Just as she did so, the man faced Potter with something glinting in his eye. "And the blood of the enemy..." He walked over to the boy, cut his sleeve with the same knife he used to cut off his hand, and then he sliced the boy's revealed skin, as he added, "forcibly taken."

Potter screamed, and Olivia covered her mouth with her hand to keep back the sobs that she could feel threatening to escape. She didn't know why she was so... She could think of a word for it. Scared? Frightened? Those two words meant the same thing, but when spoken, both were something she would deny, deny, deny. Usually. But now? She was scared for her life. For Potter's life. And she didn't know what to do to stop it. All she could do without getting herself killed was stand there, hide, and wait until this was all over.

Peter moved back over to the cauldron, dropping the blood on the tip of his knife into the mixture, causing it to sizzle. "The Dark Lord shall rise..." he tapped in two other drops, "again." In went the fourth drop as Potter continued to scream in pain, growing louder and louder with each passing second.

That made Olivia think only one thing:

It was working. Voldemort was set to return.

The cauldron set fire inside and out, and Pettigrew ran off, going back to where he'd come from. The cauldron disappeared, turning into black smoke, leaving only what looked to be a fetus still in the womb, but in reality, it was Voldemort seemingly being reborn in a sense.

Olivia's brows furrowed and her top lip curled as if she had smelled something rancid, but in fact, it was due to how disgusting the scene in front of her was.

Voldemort rose in the air, black smoke clouding around him, and then he lowered to the ground, now back to being fully man. Well, as fully man as he could be.

Potter's screams grew louder, and Olivia's heart sank even further, her stomach rumbling uncomfortably. She felt odd. Perhaps it was seeing Voldemort come back to life, or perhaps it was Cedric being murdered and it being her fault. It was all her fault. If only she hadn't moved out of the way. She just hadn't wanted to be hit again with that curse. But she had survived it once before; she could've done it again. That fact wasn't a sure one. She could've died if she was hit. But did her life outweigh Diggory's? Shaking the fighting thoughts from her mind and ignoring the odd feeling she had coursing through her body and veins, Olivia pushed herself a little deeper into her hiding space but didn't shield herself from being able to see what was happening.

Voldemort stroked his bald and pale head, breathing in through the slits where his nose should've been, and reveled in the verity of him being truly back. He had returned. He then went still, his eyes open, and focused on his loyal servant, who had returned from where he'd run off, looking shocked that the potion had actually worked. The Dark Lord took a few steps forward, his long black cloak flowing behind him.

Olivia felt as if her heart was going to beat out of her chest as she stared at him. What if he sensed her? What if he found her and killed her like he'd ordered Peter to kill Cedric? What if he killed Potter right after? Who would be there to protect the ones she cared about? Because she was sure her parents wouldn't do it, and she didn't trust the higher-ups.

"Huh," Voldemort breathed out in amazement, probably glad to be walking on the ground of their world again. He moved closer to Pettigrew, who cowered at his intense gaze. "My wand, Wormtail." His hand was lifted, waiting for the man in front of him to follow his order.

Peter removed the wand from his coat, handing it to his master with a bow.

Voldemort took his wand in his hand. Then he sucked in a satisfied breath, feeling the magic running through him again and being enhanced by the magical object. "Hold out your arm," he instructed his follower.

"Master," Pettigrew breathed out with gratitude lacing his tone, thinking that his Lord was going to give him his hand back. "Thank you, Master."

"The other arm, Wormtail," the infamous wizard corrected with a sneer. Peter's face dropped, but he did as told, and Voldemort took a gripping hold of his arm. He pressed his wand to the man's arm, digging it deep. From where Olivia was standing, she could see what it was, but she was sure it was the dark mark he was touching. The wind around them whooshed, and Peter looked up curiously, as did Olivia. And then thunder started to rumble in the distance, allowing Voldemort to let out a triumphant sigh as he looked up at the sky.

Just there, in the clouds, there was a skull, howling loudly. It reminded Olivia of the Quidditch World Cup and the glowing green mark in the sky—Voldemort's mark. A snake came from its mouth, just as it did at the World Cup. Then black smoke in various forms fell to the ground between Potter, who was still pinned by the statue, and Voldemort, who stood alongside Pettigrew. Men appeared from the smoke, wearing long black cloaks and silver masks.

Death Eaters, Olivia realized.

"Welcome, my friends," Voldemort began in his dry voice. "Thirteen years it's been, and yet here you stand before me as though it were only yesterday." He paused as some of the Death Eaters bowed their heads in servitude. "I confess myself," he said, taking a step forward, "disappointed." Olivia watched closer, trying to see if she could recognize any of the Death Eaters, even with the masks, cloaks, and hoods. But she couldn't. "Not one of you tried to find me," he went on. "Crabbe!" Voldemort removed one of the masks of his followers, and Olivia let out a small gasp, which she quickly covered her mouth due to. She feared that most, if not all, of her friends would have at least one parent there. "Macnair!" He repeated his movement, turning the mask into smoke. "Nott! Goyle!" Olivia's heart sank. "Avery!" She watched as the man walked over to the last Death Eater, holding back sobs at most of the names he'd spoken. Her friends' names! "Not even you," he stopped in front of the man, "Lucius." And then he removed his mask violently, revealing the older version of the boy Olivia was so...

She felt as if she were going to be sick, her stomach churning painfully. She'd had her suspicions about Lucius and his loyalties, but knowing for certain was something she didn't know would be so hard to swallow. Draco's father was a Death Eater. She'd known he was a Death Eater before, a multitude of years ago, but many believed he'd changed his ways. But clearly, he hadn't. And since Voldemort had been so openly shocked that Lucius had done nothing to aid his return, he must've been one of his most loyal followers.

Olivia only feared what this meant for Draco.

Lucius fell to the ground on his knees. "My Lord, had I detected any sign, a whisper of your whereabouts—"

"There were signs, my slippery friend," Voldemort interjected, his voice sort of hiss-like. "And more than whispers." This made Olivia think back to the time in her second year when Dumbledore told Lucius that Voldemort, not young Tom Riddle, was, in fact, behind the attack on Ginny Weasley and the opening of the Chamber of Secrets.

"I assure you, my Lord, I have never renounced the old ways," he replied, then took off his hood. He wasn't lying about that. Olivia knew that for certain as she remembered his blatant disrespect to the Weasleys and Granger for being associated with Muggles, and the way his son acted around the same lot too. "The face I have been obliged," he stood from the ground, becoming eye level with his master, "to present each day since your absence... that is my true mask."

Pettigrew then stepped forward with his hand raised. "I returned..."

Voldemort moved swiftly towards the man, causing him to cower down in fear. "Out of fear, not loyalty." He paused as Peter stood just a half-inch taller. "Still, you have proved yourself useful these past few months, Wormtail." He stroked the man's hair like he was still a pet rat that was sitting in his lap, and then waved his wand, giving Peter a metal hand where he had cut his real one off. Then he took a step back. "Now, go find the girl and bring her to me. Alive," he ordered, his voice stern.

Olivia's eyes went wide, realizing he was talking about her. She could see the Death Eaters give each other curious looks just before she turned and hid behind the statue completely. Hopefully, Pettigrew would be fooled enough not to find her. She knew her hope was doubtful, but she still had it.

"Thank you, Master. Thank you," Pettigrew said. "I will not disappoint you." The man wasted no time in walking away from his Lord and began his search for Olivia.

She was pressing her back so deeply into the statue that she could feel the stone digging into her skin through her shirt. Her breathing was heavy as she waited for the hunting man, gripping her wand tightly in her hand. It felt like forever she was waiting, and she could hear Voldemort speaking to someone, but she wasn't sure who. "Oh," he muttered, then tsked a few times. "Such a handsome boy." She knew then that he was speaking to Cedric.

"Don't touch him!" Potter shouted.

Olivia felt a chill creep down her spine, and she turned to the right, seeing Peter standing right there. He smiled nastily and waved at her, just as he did when he escaped from their capture the prior school year. Her eyes went wide, and she backed away. He matched her steps, going forward. She continued backwards slowly, and then she took off, turning around as she darted away from him. Peter began chasing her, determined to prove himself even further to his master than he had already. Olivia glanced over her shoulder and shot a leg-locking jinx in his direction, but he deflected it with a wave of his wand. She cursed under breath at this and kept running. He continued with his pursuit of her, both of them sending and deflecting different spells while the Death Eaters just watched and Voldemort spoke to Potter, and she could've sworn she heard the boy shouting in pain. But then Pettigrew finally hit her with a stunning spell while she was distracted, and she fell to the ground face-first with a hard thud.

The man walked over to her, grabbed her wand, and tucked his and hers into his pocket. He then bent down and picked her up with ease. She couldn't move, but she wanted to curse him. Her mind was racing with threatening thoughts that she wished she could've voiced as she was carried back over to Voldemort.

"Ah, Wormtail, you've done well," the dark wizard greeted, lifting his arms welcomingly. "Put her on the ground." Peter did as told and set Olivia down so that she was lying on her back, not being gentle whatsoever. "Do you have her wand?" he asked, and the captor nodded, pulling it from his pocket and handing it to his master, who began examining it intently. "Willow wood, about ten and a half inches in length, and mediumly flexible." He looked down at her. "What's the core?"

She just stared at him.

"Right, you can't speak," he breathed out, turning the tip of her wand between his thumb and pointer finger, and then he pointed it at her. Olivia was frightened, scared he might kill her. Not might—he was going to kill her! Of course he was; he was Voldemort, for Merlin's sake! "Rennervate."

Her panic died down instantly upon hearing this, and she felt her body become less rigid due to him reversing the effects of the stunning spell. Her eyes widened as she sat up, scrabbling back across the ground. Then she felt her back hit something, and she turned, her gaze finding Cedric, staring up at the sky, lifeless. He was dead, she was reminded. She sucked in a breath, feeling guilt crawling up her throat, and then turned back to Voldemort, who was smiling cunningly and staring down at her with his red eyes, sending a chill down her spine.

Then the snake-looking man took a step forward. "What is the core?" he asked again.

"Bite me," Olivia retorted, narrowing her eyes. It wasn't the best moment to give him attitude, but she loved to test her luck. And when she was scared, she became meaner.

"I don't think I've ever heard of that," he replied with sarcasm, slightly shocking her. Who knew that the most powerful dark wizard in the world was capable of sarcasm? "I won't ask again." He bent down slightly, looking down at her as he grabbed ahold of her face with force.

Olivia flinched at the hold, feeling the familiar, searing pain of his touch and his nails digging into her skin. Voldemort seemed to recognize something in her, and she just narrowed her eyes even harder, staring directly into his, no matter how much it made her uncomfortable. He seemed determined to get an answer out of her, and she was sure he would find other ways to make her talk. What was the harm in telling him? It was loads better than being tortured or worse. She rolled her eyes, looking away from him for a second, and found Potter, who was still trapped against the stone, staring at her with worried eyes. Then she found the ghostly man in front of her. "Dragon heartstring," she told him.

He hummed in what seemed to be familiarity with the answer, like he had been expecting her to say that, and let go of her face. Olivia ignored the looming thought in her mind and the fading pain in her face as he straightened his spine. He tossed her wand back to Peter, who caught it with ease and placed it back in his pocket. "What's your name?" he asked, making her wonder why he was curious. And she was also confused because the younger version of him had so easily identified her in the Chamber of Secrets after accusing her of being Muggle-born, like it was offensive. Well, it was. For him.

She didn't answer him.

"No?" He raised his brow bone at her, then turned to his followers. "Anyone know?" he questioned them, causing Lucius to step forward at the chance to aid his master.

"Her name is Olivia Mallard, my Lord," the long-haired man revealed. "My son is quite fond of her, though I do not have the faintest idea why since she is the daughter of blood traitors," he added with a disgusted sneer, though it wasn't necessary, as he looked her up and down.

"Ah, Olivia Mallard." Voldemort turned to her with an almost cheerful? glint in his eye and a wicked smile on his face.

"Leave her alone!" Potter ordered, catching his enemy's attention again.

Voldemort turned to Potter, focusing on him again. He moved over to him swiftly as Pettigrew came to stand at Olivia's side with his wand pointed at her just in case she were to try anything. He tipped his wand in her direction, and she felt something pull her wrists behind her and tighten around them, causing every escape plan she had in her mind to turn to dust. She glanced over her shoulder just to be sure what she thought just happened had actually happened, and there she saw robes binding her hands together behind her back, and she sighed with irritation as she faced forward again.

The dark wizard pushed the stone pickaxe in front of Potter off of him and turned around as he fell to the ground. "Pick up your wand, Potter." The boy scrabbled on the ground as the cloaked Death Eaters moved away from the scene, giving their Lord room to battle. Voldemort faced the one who'd once defeated him again. "I said, pick it up! Get up! Get up!" He pointed his wand at him demandingly, then turned back around, his robes flowing with his movements.

Potter scrambled to his wand as Olivia just stared up at Pettigrew, who was paying more attention to his master than he was to her. If he just stayed distracted, she could get her wand back, somehow get out of her restraints, and get the better of him. That was, if her skills were as good as she thought they were. For Merlin's sake, of course they were! Who was she kidding? (Confidence was key.) But there were also the other Death Eaters looming off to the side. Could she get them too?

"You've been taught how to duel, I presume, yes?" Voldemort asked his rival. He didn't even give the boy a second to answer. "First, we bow to each other." Potter stood up from the ground as the dark wizard bowed. "Come on now, Harry." He focused on him again, standing up straight. "The niceties must be observed. Dumbledore wouldn't want you to forget your manners, would he?" The semi-man said the Headmaster's name with slight disgust, as if he didn't like the professor. Olivia was sure he didn't. At least he and she had that to somewhat agree on. "I said, bow!" His voice was low, but with a dangerous might lingering in it as he lifted his wand and forced Potter to do as told, causing the boy to grunt in agony. "That's better. And now..." He began running towards Potter and waved his wand, knocking the boy to the ground. "Crucio!"

Olivia watched the interaction with wide eyes, not because she was surprised that Voldemort had used an Unforgivable—he was quite known for it, in fact—but more so with horror at the fact that Potter was being tortured and she was just sitting there, doing nothing. It was similar to when they were in the Chamber of Secrets—Voldemort (Tom at that time) doing something he knew would hurt Potter, that being sending the Basilisk after him and draining Ginny of her life, while she just stood there, not doing anything and watching. But at least now she actually had a reason not to do anything. Her hands were quite literally tied.

Potter squirmed around on the ground, the pain seeming excruciating. Voldemort repeated the curse, only making its effects worse and stronger. Then he stopped. "Attaboy, Harry," he praised as Potter breathed heavily, in and out. "Your parents would be proud." Voldemort made his way closer to the boy so that he could look down on him, knowing he could hit a sore spot with his words. "Especially your filthy Muggle mother."

"Wasn't your father a Muggle too?" Olivia mistakenly asked. She knew it was a bad idea, but sometimes she just didn't know when to keep her mouth shut. A thought crossed her mind? She was going to voice it, no matter who it annoyed.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes on her. And then he raised his wand, causing her stomach to form a pit, and he called out, "Crucio!"

She fell on her back, squirming in pain and agony, feeling as though her body was going to be ripped apart. As if she were being torn apart limb from limb. She was sure Lucius was reveling in her suffering, knowing that the man hated her as much as her mother hated his son. Neither without reason, though, which were still unknown to her on her mother's part—she knew exactly why the man didn't like her. It was something she was glad for. She was certain that she was screaming, rolling from side to side, her muscles jerking with her arms still tied behind her back. And then the pain stopped, fading away once Voldemort let up. Tears were felt slipping from her eyes and down her cheeks as she just laid there, her head turned to Potter and the Dark Lord, whom the boy was meant to face once more, while her ears were ringing.

Voldemort's eyes found Potter, who was still on the ground, just as he lifted his wand and began to cast "Expelliar—" He dismissed the red light of the boy's spell with a wave of his wand, like it was nothing, and focused it back on its original caster, wrapping Potter in the spell and throwing him a few feet. The man took slow steps beside the boy, still looking down at him. "I'm going to kill you, Harry Potter." He moved closer to the boy. "I'm going to destroy you and your little friend." His eyes went over to Olivia, who was still jerking with the aftereffects of the curse, feeling hot and cold chills like she did with the killing curse, and so did Potter's gaze. "After tonight"—the two of them focused on each other again—"no one will ever again question my powers. After tonight, if they speak of you, they'll speak only of how you... begged for death." His voice was so sure, so determined, and not loud, seeming to know that volume didn't always matter if one's choice of words were right. "And I, being a merciful Lord, obliged." His hand then swiftly went over Potter's head, using his power against the boy, causing him to groan in discomfort. "Get up!" He lifted Potter with his magic as he himself stood too. Then he looked away, turning his back on the boy, and ended the controlling magic.

Potter went to run off. Going towards Olivia? Going towards Cedric and the cup? Who knew? But before he could get even a foot away, Voldemort turned to him, sending a green light his way. "Don't turn your back on me, Harry Potter!" The light hit the stone as Potter squatted down and dodged it. "I want you to look at me when I kill you! I want to see the light leave your eyes!" he shouted, with his wand raised and his Death Eaters behind him—the ones Voldemort hadn't acknowledged still wearing their silver masks and black hoods.

Olivia's muscles were no longer jerking uncontrollably, but she was still on her back, tears in her eyes, not having the strength to sit up on her own. And her wrists being tied only made it all the harder to get up and more uncomfortable.

Potter then came from his hiding place, seeming determined to face the man who killed his parents, killed Cedric, and ruined so many witches and wizards' lives. "Have it your way," Potter said. He then lifted his wand quickly. "Expelliarmus!"

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort shouted at the same time.

Green and red streams of light collided, two forces fighting against one another, causing the sky to rumble and crack. Voldemort's power seemed to be greater than Potter's, with the green overpowering the red and weakening the boy, who held his wand with both hands to give him more leverage. Potter continued to put up a fight, however, not letting the dark wizard get the better of him as the Death Eaters and Olivia—through dazed eyes—watched.

"Do nothing!" Voldemort ordered his followers. "He's mine to finish!" Potter's power seemed to be getting stronger as he yelled, "He's mine!" And then, suddenly, there was a sort of vortex around them, just around Potter and Voldemort. Olivia's brows furrowed as the red light from Potter's wand began to eat away at the green light.

Voldemort was losing.

And then small balls of light began spewing from the older wizard's wand, going around the battle of light and into the air. Olivia looked up, wanting to see whatever it was. Out of the light appeared Cedric, bright and transparent, almost like the ghosts in Hogwarts. Then there was another form of light, and an old man, whom Olivia did not recognize, came from it. Then two more, and behind Potter appeared... his parents? Lily Evans and James Potter.

James seemed to say something to his son, though Olivia couldn't hear it due to the distance, and Diggory said something too. Potter's mother turned to him, speaking to him, and then Potter broke off his connection with Voldemort, and the spirits went towards the dark wizard. Potter ran over to Olivia while everyone was distracted. He stunned Peter and then moved her so that he could help her up and cut the ropes tying her wrists. Once she was free, she said, "Accio!" Her mind was on her wand, which came from Peter's inside coat pocket and right into her hand. Then she and Potter ran over to Diggory, and he used the same spell to bring the cup over to them. One of their hands was placed on the boy's body while the other waited for the cup to get to them. Once it did, they grabbed ahold of it.

And then they were gone.

After twisting and turning, they landed on the grounds where they had been before entering the maze. Everyone cheered at their return, seeing not only one, not two, but three in front of them—three winners. The music started playing from the band as the claps and cheers got louder and louder. Olivia sat up, watching as Potter began to sob, clinging onto Diggory's body, and she just fell back, her hands propping her up behind her as she felt her chin wobble, fighting back her own sobs.

She was just staring at Cedric, seeing his lifeless eyes, void of anything, his face blank of emotion or any type of expression. He was so still. He was dead. He was dead, and it was all her fault. She had moved out of the way. He had been murdered, and it was all her fault.

It was her fault. Her fault. Her fault. Her fault.

Just like her shadow had said it would be, everything was always going to be her fault.

Only some seemed to notice what was happening as the seconds that felt like hours to Olivia passed by, and then Fleur screamed in horror, startling her. But her eyes didn't leave Cedric.

Dumbledore raced over to them, calling out both Potter and Olivia's names, though neither paid him any mind. He then began trying to pry the boy off of Diggory, but Potter fought back. "No! No!" he shouted, continuing to hold onto Cedric. "No." This came out quieter than the others, with a sob mixed in. So the man rounded the boy, coming to the other side of him and Diggory, beside Olivia, who was beginning to stand, stumbling backwards. Her eyes remained on Cedric's dead face.

Ministry Fudge ran over to them, asking, "For God's sake, Dumbledore, what's happened?"

Potter looked up, tears filling his eyes. "He's back. He's back. Voldemort's back," the boy croaked out. The cheers had completely died down, the area was completely and eerily silent, and Olivia felt lightheaded. "Cedric, he asked me to bring his body back. I couldn't leave him, not there," he sobbed, pegging even deeper at Olivia's heart.

The girl stepped even further away, her mind racing and blank all at once, not even noticing the multiple eyes watching her—some worried, some curious, some judging, and some suspicious. It was probably due to the fact that none of her tears had fallen, her face was blank, she wasn't sobbing like Potter, and not many trusted her as it was.

"It's alright, Harry," Dumbledore said softly, placing his hands on the sides of the boy's face. "It's alright," he repeated as Potter nodded, sobbing even harder. "He's home. You three are." Usually, Olivia would roll her eyes at Dumbledore for actually including her for once, but in that moment, she didn't do anything. She stood completely still, not crying, not feeling anger, just feeling... nothing. No, it wasn't nothing. She felt something, but she was unsure of what it was.

"Keep everybody in their seats!" Fudge ordered. Then his voice went a little quieter. "A boy's just been killed." He clearly wasn't quiet enough because shocked gasps were heard all around, coming from the stands as everyone stared at the heartbreaking scene in front of them. Then the man, as well as Snape, moved back over to the Headmaster. "The boy must be moved, Dumbledore," the Minister told him. "There are too many people."

Dumbledore just continued to comfort the boy.

It felt as if Olivia's heart was beating a million beats per second and none at the same time. She didn't even know if she was breathing. Her body felt heavy and light all at once, and the cold and hot chills still ran through her. Her eyes were welled with tears that had yet to fall, and her throat was dry. Her head hurt, her heartbeat was pounding in her ears, and she felt lightheaded, like she was going to faint.

"Let me through!" Mr. Diggory shouted, pushing through the crowd in the stands. Olivia finally looked up, finding the father of the lost one running towards them. "Let me through!" he repeated, going through the wall of people on the grounds. They all stepped aside, letting him pass by as they stared at him with pity. "That's my son!" His voice was full of agony and grief, causing Olivia to break out in a sob, now turning away from Diggory and Potter. "It's my boy!" He sounded in so much pain that it made Olivia physically hurt, her heart clenching in her chest. She couldn't see, but the father fell to his knees next to his son, fully defeated as he clutched to the golden and black jersey that had "Diggory" written on the back. "It's my boy!"

Olivia covered her mouth with her hand, feeling sick as she muffled her cries. And then a hand crept onto her shoulder, trying to pull her closer to them as she stilled. "Olivia, are you all right?" the familiar voice asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Her eyes snapped open, the tears coating her pink-tinted cheeks that matched her nose in color, and she faced the boy she... The boy whose father was a Death Eater, now and forever. She sneered at him in disgust, though her chin still wobbled and her brows turned up as she held her sobs in, and shoved him away from her. "Don't touch me!"

Draco looked at her with confusion and shock, holding his hands out in defense, seeming to be wondering what he had done to her.

He hadn't done anything; it was his father that had.

She could see her brother and friends standing behind him, looking at her with the same confusion and concern that Draco had shown her.

It was their fathers, too. All of them besides Pansy, Blaise, and Lucas, though she was sure Pansy's had been somewhere in the crowd of unmasked Death Eaters.

She took a few steps back, not wanting to deal with them or even having the strength to do so. But as she moved backwards, she bumped into someone. And she already knew who it was. Glancing over her shoulder, her suspicions were confirmed when she found her mother and father both looking at her with an unreadable expression on their faces.

"He's back," was all she told them in a mutter.

Her mother swallowed a rather large lump in her throat just before her eyes found someone behind her daughter. She nodded, and then Snape came up beside them. His hand fell onto Olivia's elbow as she looked up at him. "Come with me," he told her. And then he, Olivia, and her parents began walking away from everything. They passed Draco and the others, who were all staring at them with the same confusion and concern from before.

"Come on, Lucas," Andrew said, gesturing for his son to follow behind them, which he did with no hesitation. Lucas walked alongside Olivia, staring at her as she faced forward, trying to hold her composure. The others watched them as they walked away, no doubt going to Snape's classroom.

Voldemort was back. Cedric was dead.

It was all her fault. She should've just taken the cup alone, so she'd be the one dead.

It was all her fault.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

━━━━ ella's speaking !
when i tell yall my jaw DROPPED when i checked the word count of this chapter lmao- this is the second longest chapter i've ever written! so i really hope you enjoyed!! (as much as you can given the content)

make sure to comment and vote!

kisses.

━━━━━━━━━━ born to die,
© -LOSTGARDENS,        may 2024

word count: 10929. written: 4.16-28.24. published: 5.13.24.