This is my take on what happened in the graveyard fourth year and the events after. Bit different from canon, see. There's going to be violence and blood. Rated T for that and, possibly, future use of language. Have fun!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I do not, understood? Good.

Permanent Marks

Harry and Cedric slammed onto the damp grass. Both were out of breath from the fall. The cup rolled away from them as they regained their stances.

They appeared to be in a sort of graveyard- a particularly eerie graveyard. They both wandered, trying to understand why they were there.

"Harry, do you suppose this is part of the task?" Cedric thought aloud.

Maybe, Harry thought to himself. But, what were they supposed to do?

He wandered on through the gravestones, glancing at the names. He saw the name "Riddle" repeatedly.

Riddle.

"Cedric," Harry called, "I don't think we're supposed to be here."

He reached the edge of the graveyard. He looked over the stone wall. He saw a large manor in the distance.

His insides curled.

He'd seen that manor. He'd seen who was in that manor.

"Cedric!" Harry shouted, scrambling back, "We need to get back!"

He ran through the graveyard. He spotted where Cedric stood, frozen to the spot.

"Harry," he said shakily.

Harry stopped dead frozen, too. Beside a large statue and another gravestone, was a giant, smoking cauldron. The flames below licked the black cauldron, and every once in a while, reached out to the two horrified teenagers.

Then, they saw a cloaked figure carrying something, walking towards them. They glided towards the two. As the figure approached, Harry recognized him. Wormtail.

Had he not been so terrified, he would've attacked the slimy traitor.

Wormtail carried something. Something wrapped in robes, almost like a baby. But Harry knew that was no baby.

Pettigrew took out his wand, his creepy little eyes fixed on the two boys. He pointed it at Cedric.

"Cedric, look out!" Harry yelled. A sudden pain shot through his scar and he fell to the ground on his knees, unable to move himself.

"Avada Kedavra!" a green jet flew at the 17 year old. He jumped away and it barely skimmed his hair. Another jet flew at him, and he scrambled behind a gravestone.

Cedric leaned against the cold stone and reached for his wand. He realized with a shudder that he didn't have it.

Pettigrew moved after the older boy, but a scratchy, weak voice yelled out, "No, Wormtail," the voice took a labored breath, "Let him cower in fear. We have more important things to attend to. We will deal with him later," Another labored breath, "Let him watch, but make sure he doesn't interfere. And when this is over and done," he rasped another breath, "kill him."

Pettigrew whimpered as he bowed his head. He raised his wand towards Harry. Harry, with a crashing force, flew across the graveyard and slammed into the statue, which used its stone arms to hold the struggling fourteen year old down. But as he had slammed against the stone, he could have sworn he felt something in his side crack.

Wormtail whimpered as he approached the cauldron, still carrying the bundle. He dropped the thing into the burning hot cauldron. A piercing scream rang out through the night and sent burning chills through each of their bones.

Pettigrew stumbled towards a grave marked, Tom Riddle. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

A dusty bone rose up out of the ground and was dropped in the burning cauldron with a splash.

"Flesh of the servant, w-willingly given. Y-you will revive your master," Pettigrew gave loud, sickening sobs as he took out a dagger. It was an ornate dagger, covered in silver, rubies, and emeralds. The handle consisted of silver twisted to look like intertwining snakes.

Harry watched, struggling against the hard, unmovable statue. The pain in his forehead was intense. He could barely see, for that and that he had misplaced his glasses somewhere. His legs finally gave out, and he was only supported by the statue.

Pettigrew raised the dagger and his other wrist. He looked ready to throw himself onto the ground and cry. He brought the dagger down, and Harry gave a shout as the traitor's hand fell into the cauldron. Blood spewed and squirted from the stump. The bone was even visible.

Pettigrew finally dropped to the ground, cradling his bloody stump. He wrapped his robes around it. The blood seeped and stained the black fabric.

Cedric ran over to where Harry stood, his wand clutched in his hand. Horror was written on his face, as he had seen the event while searching for his blasted wand. But determination shown in his eyes.

"Bombarda!" he shouted at the statue's shoulders.

With an explosion, the stone broke apart and the statue's arms detached. Shards flew and created cuts on both Harry and Cedric, drawing blood. Harry limped to the ground, the pain becoming overwhelming. It felt like his head was exploding.

Pettigrew snapped his head toward the boys.

"Flipendo!" Pettigrew shouted through the sobs. Cedric flew backwards and landed onto the ground heavily. "Stupefy!" he shouted again, and the seventeen year old flew back again once more and hit his head against a gravestone and limped.

"Cedric!" Harry shouted.

"Crucio!" Pettigrew yelled at Harry.

He screamed at the effects of the spell. Electric pain shot throughout his body. Too much pain, he wanted to just die if it meant ending it all! He squirmed on the ground against the unforgivable curse.

It finally stopped and Harry limped and struggled for breath. One of his ribs must've been broken.

Wormtail grabbed Harry by the collar and dragged him near the cauldron. Harry, probably the after-effects of the curse, felt a hot numbness pulsing through his body. Through all of the aches and pains in his body, he barely felt the heat of the nearby flames.

Pettigrew lifted the dagger again with his only hand, "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, y-you will resurrect your foe." The slimy traitor regarded his former friend's son only for a moment before plunging the dagger into Harry's arm. He gave a withered scream as Pettigrew drove it further along his limb. Crimson liquid poured from the wound, splattering against him, Pettigrew, and the surrounding ground.

Pettigrew held a vial to collect the crimson blood. He regarded it, and, as though it was insufficient, drove the dagger into Harry's shoulder as well with a stabbing force. By now, the ugly man was sobbing harder than ever.

Both of their bloods stained against Harry's robes, causing them to be soaked with the crimson liquid.

Wormtail finally struggled up and moved away from Harry slightly to dump the blood-filled vial into the massive cauldron. Harry clutched his bleeding wounds desperately, hoping beyond hope that it wouldn't work.

The moment the vial hit the surface of the potion, it shone with a blinding light and sparks flew with incredible force.

A crack of lightening split across the sky, as though breaking it in two. A spiny, pale hand emerged from the potion. Soon another hand emerged. Before long, an entire spiny, skeletal, death-pale body had risen out of the cauldron.

Everything else in the world seemed to have blasted away for Harry. The only thing he could think of was that Voldemort had risen.

Wormtail scrambled towards his master, spluttering undecipherable words to him as he brought robes. Once he had the robes on, Voldemort took a deep breath and held his arms out, marveling at the quiet, eerie breeze that ran past him. He could breath, he could feel. Such things he had taken for granted before, but they were in his grasp now.

His face had a great resemblance to a snake. He had no hair and his white skin was stretched over his skull. He had no human nose, but snake slit nostrils. His eyes glowed redder than all of the surrounding blood, his pupils in slits.

"Wormtail," he rasped.

The pathetic man whimpered in response.

"I suppose you expect some kind of reward," he spat. Wormtail fell to his knees, sobbing, "You could not hope to be loyal to anyone. You returned in fear."

"M-my lord," he sobbed, "I-I will al-always be loyal to you."

"You have proved yourself useful this past year," Voldemort held out his hand for his wand.

Wormtail gave him his yew wand.

"Hold out your hand," he commanded.

Wormtail held out his bleeding stump. Voldemort grabbed it forcibly and performed a spell that Harry couldn't see. But once Pettigrew was visible again, he saw that he had a new, silvery hand and the bleeding had stopped.

"Thank you, master. Thank you."

"Silence and hold out your arm," Voldemort hissed.

Pettigrew shakily held out his arm. Voldemort pulled back his sleeve to reveal a dark mark.

Anger built up inside Harry. How dare he? His father's friend, responsible for their lives and he just betrayed them. They trusted the slimy rat!

Voldemort pressed his wand against the dark mark.

Soon, hooded people were standing in a circle around him. Death Eaters.

Voldemort gave a speech to his prominent followers. He spoke of how he was disappointed that they never looked for him.

Harry lifted his head. If they didn't get out of there, no one would know of Voldemort's return and the entire world would be vulnerable. He bit back the pain as he moved to stand up. His arm gave out almost immediately. The bleeding worsened.

He took a deep breath as he began to crawl one-handed. The ground rubbed against his wounds. He held out his hand and pulled his body forward, over and over.

He finally reached where Cedric lay. Harry grabbed Cedric's wand.

"Ennervate," he muttered.

Cedric woke up with a start, his eyes snapped open, unfocused at first.

"Harry," he murmured, "What- where is he?" his eyes darted around. He saw the group of Death Eaters and Voldemort. His eyes widened and the remaining color drained from his handsome face. His mouth went ajar.

For a second, he looked like he was about go back unconscious.

"Cedric, we need to get out of here," Harry whispered, "It's the cup that got here, it's the only hope we have of getting back."

Cedric nodded, though, as if in a stupor.

"Potter!" Voldemort snapped.

Both boys snapped their heads towards them.

"You're not trying to escape, are you?" he asked in fake concern, "Wormtail, bring him to me."

Wormtail made his way towards Harry.

"And who would be your friend, Harry? Such a pretty boy, isn't he?" he mocked, noticing Cedric, "No, wait, I believe I know. The real Hogwarts champion." he sneered, then addressed some of his Death Eaters, "Do what you will with him."

Several Death Eaters circled around Cedric.

"Crucio!" Harry heard one of the Death Eater's shout.

He heard Cedric scream.

"No!" he shouted. Pettigrew grabbed his collar and dragged him away. He threw him at Voldemort's feet.

Voldemort pointed his yew wand toward Harry, "Mobilicorpus."

Harry floated into a standing position. He looked away from Voldemort.

"Look me in the eye."

Harry felt his head wrench towards him, but he kept his eyes low.

"Fine, then, have it your way," Voldemort began to circle him like a hawk, "Harry Potter, the boy I've wanted nothing more than to kill for the past 13 years. I could kill you now. I could even do nothing and you'd die within the week," he spoke, "The only reason you survived 13 years ago was because I overlooked an old magic. Something I should have anticipated.

"But, you have potential. Though, I would very much enjoy killing you now, I will give you a chance. I am a merciful lord. Join me, Harry Potter."

Harry tried struggling against the invisible force holding him, "Never," he spat.

"Very well, then, Potter," Voldemort looked to Harry's bleeding arm.

He raised his wand, forcing Harry to raise his wounded arm and turn it over.

Without warning, Voldemort pressed the tip of his wand against the cut, "Incidere* Mosmorde!"

Instantly, white-hot pain erupted at the spot and spread through his entire forearm. It felt as though someone had plunged his arm into flames.

He didn't have the voice to scream, instead it came out as a weak rasp.

Before long, his scar burst into pain as well.

The only thing he could see, was the cut wound. The blood immediately surrounding the wound gathered onto the cut. The cut itself appeared to heal. It left a white scar that twisted into the image of a snake slithering out of a skull's mouth. It began to glow a blinding white, and the burning intensified. The glowing died, and the mark turned black. The burning finally subsided.

Voldemort jerked his wand away from the new mark. He dropped his wand and Harry fell onto the ground. He held his arm close to him. It throbbed, and the image twisted on his skin.

"Yes, Potter, it's a dark mark," Voldemort said, "When they find both of your bodies, they will know and they will fear."

Harry heard Cedric scream.

"I will kill you, Potter. But first, you will pay for the last years," he whispered.

Voldemort sent several cutting hexes at Harry. Three hit him in the torso, two hit him on the face. The Death Eaters joined in. Goyle, he thought, gave him a blow to the jaw.

Harry spat out metallic-tasting blood. He curled his nose slightly at the taste.

More Crucios were put on him, as well. More spells, some he didn't even know, were used to cause pain and draw blood.

"It's a shame the blood protection doesn't work as well, anymore," Voldemort commented, "See, your blood now flows through my veins, as well."

Harry was forced into a standing position. He felt his wand be put in his hand.

"I feel unusually merciful today," Voldemort said, "I will let you die fighting. The perfect end to a tragic hero, doesn't that sound right?"

Harry lifted his head and tightened his grip on his wand. This could be his only chance.

He glanced towards Cedric. The Death Eaters had lost interest in him and he lay in his own blood. He turned his head towards Harry. He lifted himself out the ground and tried to steady himself. He scrambled around for his wand until he found it.

Harry and Cedric locked eyes. They both knew that they had to get back to Hogwarts. They didn't have a plan, but knew what they had to do.

Harry looked back to Voldemort.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort shouted.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted.

The red and green jet of light met in the middle. It glowed gold at the meeting point. Vibrating pulses ran through the surrounding air and the jets of light. Soon the entire stream of light turned gold. A blinding pulse of gold light exploded from the center.**

The force blasted them all off their feet and ten feet backwards.

Harry brushed off the surprise and jumped to his weak feet. The only thing that kept him standing was a sudden rush of adrenaline and what must've been his own source of magic.

He saw Cedric ahead of him also running away from the Death Eaters. Another jet of green light flew past them. They threw themselves behind the gravestones, using them as shields.

"Where's the cup?" Harry shouted, blood splattering out of his mouth as he did. He felt his energy dying down and his breath becoming extremely labored.

"Accio Cup!" Cedric shouted.

Nothing happened.

More jets of light flew past the gravestones.

Of course Accio wouldn't work, Harry thought to himself. It sure would have made the entire third task the hell of a lot easier.

"There!"

The Cup was out in a open space. It would be taking a chance, they would have no way of deflecting spells.

Another jet of green light flew close to them. They didn't have another choice.

They dashed to the ornate cup. They both had just put their hands onto the cup when they were both hit with a violent orange light. They were thrown away from the graveyard and heard Voldemort's furious yell.

They didn't know what spell had hit them, but they certainly felt what the effects must've been. They both already had heavily bleeding wounds. Once they were hit with the spell, knew wounds appeared and the overall bleeding increased rapidly.

They both fell onto the ground. Harry saw Cedric go limp and a pool of blood forming around them both. Initially he heard the sound of cheers, but the cheers turned into screams and urgent shouts. His world was fading out.

Voldemort was back, Voldemort was back.

He heard various voices, some stood out.

"We need a medic over here!"

"Bloody hell, what happened?!"

"Are they dead?!"

"Harry? Harry?!"

He felt himself be lifted. Soon, he seemed to leave his body. He was surrounded by darkness. The voices turned into background noise, which, too, faded out. He felt like a half-aware body floating in darkness before his consciousness finally broke.


*Incidere- from what I checked on an online translator, it means "cut" in Latin

**Yeah, it's not priori incantatem, just because that specific plot device never made much sense to me. This is what I normally prefer

Well, thank you for reading. Wow, there sure ended up being a lot more blood than I initially planned. Dang.

More chapters or not? What do you think? Also, let me know if I got the spells wrong. Let me know what you think and you're input on what you hope happens next.