Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything… I really hope no one sues me,
cause I have no money. So I guess it wouldn't really be profitable, yay!
Summary: Big fight in ring. Described better than that. Read it instead of deciding things by summaries, as it has things that is unable to be explained in a summary.
Characters: In the prologue there's Harry, Ron, Voldemort, and another character. This chapter isn't really big on characters, its more the background-y exposition-y type of… thing (falls asleep in lit class a lot)
Prologue
Harry Potter stood on top of a hill, looking down on the scene before him. 29 years old, he had deep crease-lines over his face, and his eyes were deep and worried. He gripped a short, wooden wand with his white knuckles.
Next to him, his old friend Ron Weasley stood and looked even graver then he was. When they had been teenagers a long ago, he had been lanky and clumsy, but now Ron had transformed into the best Auror in the Ministry.
But Ron's Auror skill, rivaling even Mad-Eye Moody's, was useless in the current world of wizardry. 15 years after Voldemort had reclaimed his body, he had returned. No one could stand up to him and his inner-circle of Death Eaters, now powerful beyond imagination. When they had disappeared, everyone had held their breath, waiting, and preparing. Slowly people began to think that he had died, some problem with the dark ritual he used to revitalize his spirit and remake his body.
No one doubted that he was very much alive now. His inner-circle had returned with him, and they had marked the occasion with the destruction of Durmstrang, controlled by the run-away Death Eater Karkaroff. The massive fireball that had incinerated the school was only the beginning of the evil Voldemort had then inflicted upon the world.
After all the hiding, the fighting, and all the friends that were dead, now it all came down to this. Below Harry and Ron, Voldemort stood in accepted dueling position. His robes glowed with spectral white; an irony lost on his enemy, standing before him. His opponent was a teenager, barely 16. He held a black, wooden staff, as long as a walking stick. Ollivander had worked on it in secret with the other master wandmakers the last 10 years, and it was the mightiest wand ever made, so powerful its emanations could not be contained in the small wands used by normal wizards. The boy radiated power, as did Voldemort, and as they raised their weapons, the boy the staff, Voldemort his bare hands, lightning almost seemed to roll off of them. Around them barely discernable auras of power, as hard to see as glass, flared up like colored fire.
Their incredible power created a static electricity effect for a mile around. Harry could feel his hair, constantly disturbed, rising straight up. He felt a twinge of regret that he wasn't down there in the dueling circle. But no one could stand up to Voldemort after his mysterious transformation.
"Not even the famed Harry Potter," He muttered, voice dripping with venom, though still under his breath. No one noticed, they were captivated with the display of power below.
After seeing the demonstration of Voldemort's newfound power, though, no one blamed him for not standing in the ring.
Instead of fighting, he had made himself useful the last few years forming alliances with the many magical creatures around the world. These agreements proved of no use, though, with the destruction of Karkaroff's school, all with a single word and a gesture from Voldemorts hands.
But fortunately the Ministry of Magic had prepared something, just in case the rumors had been true. Taking a small baby, only a day old, but borne of two powerful but unknown wizards, Dumbledore and other great wizards infused them with magical power, making almost a new creature, a new race of human beings. The subsequent being was ethereal, and from birth he could cast spells that even aged wizards had trouble with. He could create his own sorcery; bending magic past its normal barriers and limitations. When Voldemort reappeared, they had fought, in a titanic duel. And the boy hadn't died; instead, he had fought the dark lord to a stalemate. After the fight, he earned the title, Savior-Wizard.
The years passed and Voldemort's reign of terror had continued. He had reached an almost god-like level of power. Although the Ministry of Magic had attempted to keep the muggles out of it, they could hardly contain the spectacle of entire cities, wiped off the map by Voldemort. Soon the whole world was involved, and though wizards and witches were unknown to muggle society, they knew about magic.
And even after the death that he had brought upon the world, Voldemort ran from battles with the Savior-Wizard. No one knew why, only that the lord of the Dark Arts was afraid, afraid of a child. And that gave them hope.
Eventually though, Voldemort had stopped running. One night he Apparated into Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts, his power forever breaking the enchantment placed over the grounds. Instead of killing the aged wizard, he had instead set a time and place for a great duel, to decide who should control the world, good or evil.
Cedric, the Savior-Wizard, the greatest wizard in the world, stood five feet tall, still a boy. He was named for the famous death Voldemort had committed just before returning to his body. Cedric Diggory, the first victim of a new age of tyranny. Appearances were misleading though, and this boy was committed to the cause of fighting Voldemort, to the point of zealotry. He had trained his whole life for this battle. Since he was a baby, he had been trained to fight for good and justice. Mostly though, he was only trained to fight.
But still one obstacle remained between Cedric and victory. Lord Voldemort could, through some twisted ceremony, do everything the Savior- Wizard could.
Harry leaned forward to survey the battlefield. Showing respect, seeming oddly out of place for the situation, they bowed to each other; then raised their weapons, ready to launch into combat.
The attack happened so fast; Harry could've blinked and missed it. Without incantation, a bolt of fiery red burst from Voldemort's hands and streaked towards Cedric. Equally fast, the youth raised a shield, effectively saving him from the destructive explosion. Light streaked back and forth. Sometimes, one would change tactics, and create an earthquake, complete with fire shooting up from cracks in the Earth, or icy rain, but still neither gained an upper foot.
The battle was a true spectacle to behold, with neither side holding any advantage. If it wasn't so serious, if the outcome hadn't been the fate of the world, then Harry could've relaxed and enjoyed the match as though he was sitting in the stands below a Quiddatch match.
After ten minutes of intense and lightning fast fighting, Cedric cast the famed Avada Kadavra spell, while simultaneously throwing a long, wicked dagger. Evading the spell, Voldemort caught the dagger in the ribs, and with an intense grimace of pain and surprise, mixed surreally on his pale serpentine face, he collapsed, blood leaking out to soak his white robes.
Cedric stood still for a moment then moved towards the figure. Twice, the fallen man jerked, and quick as lightning, the teenager created a spectral shield, an incantation only the two in the dueling circle could master.
But Voldemort stopped twitching, and Cedric stood over him.
And one thought circulated through Harry's mind, and everyone else standing on the bluff, overlooking the battle. Could Voldemort be dead? Could the sword have vanquished the dark lord, where sorcery, power borne of the quill, failed?
Harry and Ron looked at the old man next to them. His beard went down to his belt, and his eyes, once twinkling at the slightest merriment, watched the scene below solemnly. He turned, looking at the two, once his students, but now his friends.
He shook his head, slowly, but surely. The message was clear.
"Voldemort cannot die. I do not know what the blessed dagger Cedric threw did to him, but he has come within a hairs breadth of immortality. He has limits, far away, but they are there. And he knows them better than we; I think we should be on guard for a truly desperate attack."
Below, Cedric seemed to share Dumbledore's opinion, and began muttering an incantation, preparing to try his best (which is a very considerable amount of power) at the task of destroying Lord Voldemort, once and for all.
He stopped though, as everyone's breath drew in unison. Voldemort's body began to glow, so brightly everyone flinched and shielded their eyes. Every color of the spectrum shone in the light, brighter than the sun.
All the watchers took a step back. Cedric appeared rattled, but then continued his incantation, pointing his staff at the fallen wizard.
Two things happened in a second. First, Cedric completed his spell with a yell of "FIAR!" Causing a deadly inferno of flames to shoot out from the end of his staff, aimed straight at Voldemort. Second, the flames hit the fallen body, and the dueling ring exploded.
A shockwave of white fire blasted outwards in a massive hemispheric explosion. The heat rolled over Harry, and the force threw him backwards onto the ground. He got up and looked at the dueling ring. The globe of fiery force had stopped just past the edge of the ring.
No one remained in the circle; for not even the land had survived. A perfect crater, forming a perfect sphere radiating from the point Voldemort's body had lain.
The watching wizards exploded in cheers, their screams of triumph went up to the clear blue sky. The laughed with relief, and cried in joy, and the entire time they kept cheering.
Their cheers went out across the country, marking the last day they would be terrorized by Voldemort's evil power. The cheers also carried grief for the Savior-Wizard, but the sadness of his death was remote. He had done his job, fulfilled his one purpose in life. And with his sacrifice, he had destroyed his enemy, obliterating the evil that had covered the world because of Voldemort's reign of terror. Everyone knew Cedric would've been happy at the end, both of the men named Cedric who were dead under the thumb of Lord Voldemort. Even though the price of the world's freedom had been their lives.
Harry Potter, the boy who had lived, looked up at the gray, cloudy sky. Although his joy was absolute, he knew in his heart something was wrong. He knew Voldemort was dead, gone forever, the power of the Savior- Wizard destroying him completely, but he also knew deep in his heart, that the world would soon see a greater and darker master. And this time, Cedric couldn't defeat the evil…
Many more surprises planned, this will only get better, so… yay! Chapter 1 to be released after its edited more, and I will also update this. If you read all the way through, meaning you're reading this now, then please review it! Anything you want to say… barring flames :). I had a friend who flamed me on another story for no reason… not cool. But anyway, reviewers who say something worthwhile get a prize*! I love you reviewers!
Summary: Big fight in ring. Described better than that. Read it instead of deciding things by summaries, as it has things that is unable to be explained in a summary.
Characters: In the prologue there's Harry, Ron, Voldemort, and another character. This chapter isn't really big on characters, its more the background-y exposition-y type of… thing (falls asleep in lit class a lot)
Prologue
Harry Potter stood on top of a hill, looking down on the scene before him. 29 years old, he had deep crease-lines over his face, and his eyes were deep and worried. He gripped a short, wooden wand with his white knuckles.
Next to him, his old friend Ron Weasley stood and looked even graver then he was. When they had been teenagers a long ago, he had been lanky and clumsy, but now Ron had transformed into the best Auror in the Ministry.
But Ron's Auror skill, rivaling even Mad-Eye Moody's, was useless in the current world of wizardry. 15 years after Voldemort had reclaimed his body, he had returned. No one could stand up to him and his inner-circle of Death Eaters, now powerful beyond imagination. When they had disappeared, everyone had held their breath, waiting, and preparing. Slowly people began to think that he had died, some problem with the dark ritual he used to revitalize his spirit and remake his body.
No one doubted that he was very much alive now. His inner-circle had returned with him, and they had marked the occasion with the destruction of Durmstrang, controlled by the run-away Death Eater Karkaroff. The massive fireball that had incinerated the school was only the beginning of the evil Voldemort had then inflicted upon the world.
After all the hiding, the fighting, and all the friends that were dead, now it all came down to this. Below Harry and Ron, Voldemort stood in accepted dueling position. His robes glowed with spectral white; an irony lost on his enemy, standing before him. His opponent was a teenager, barely 16. He held a black, wooden staff, as long as a walking stick. Ollivander had worked on it in secret with the other master wandmakers the last 10 years, and it was the mightiest wand ever made, so powerful its emanations could not be contained in the small wands used by normal wizards. The boy radiated power, as did Voldemort, and as they raised their weapons, the boy the staff, Voldemort his bare hands, lightning almost seemed to roll off of them. Around them barely discernable auras of power, as hard to see as glass, flared up like colored fire.
Their incredible power created a static electricity effect for a mile around. Harry could feel his hair, constantly disturbed, rising straight up. He felt a twinge of regret that he wasn't down there in the dueling circle. But no one could stand up to Voldemort after his mysterious transformation.
"Not even the famed Harry Potter," He muttered, voice dripping with venom, though still under his breath. No one noticed, they were captivated with the display of power below.
After seeing the demonstration of Voldemort's newfound power, though, no one blamed him for not standing in the ring.
Instead of fighting, he had made himself useful the last few years forming alliances with the many magical creatures around the world. These agreements proved of no use, though, with the destruction of Karkaroff's school, all with a single word and a gesture from Voldemorts hands.
But fortunately the Ministry of Magic had prepared something, just in case the rumors had been true. Taking a small baby, only a day old, but borne of two powerful but unknown wizards, Dumbledore and other great wizards infused them with magical power, making almost a new creature, a new race of human beings. The subsequent being was ethereal, and from birth he could cast spells that even aged wizards had trouble with. He could create his own sorcery; bending magic past its normal barriers and limitations. When Voldemort reappeared, they had fought, in a titanic duel. And the boy hadn't died; instead, he had fought the dark lord to a stalemate. After the fight, he earned the title, Savior-Wizard.
The years passed and Voldemort's reign of terror had continued. He had reached an almost god-like level of power. Although the Ministry of Magic had attempted to keep the muggles out of it, they could hardly contain the spectacle of entire cities, wiped off the map by Voldemort. Soon the whole world was involved, and though wizards and witches were unknown to muggle society, they knew about magic.
And even after the death that he had brought upon the world, Voldemort ran from battles with the Savior-Wizard. No one knew why, only that the lord of the Dark Arts was afraid, afraid of a child. And that gave them hope.
Eventually though, Voldemort had stopped running. One night he Apparated into Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts, his power forever breaking the enchantment placed over the grounds. Instead of killing the aged wizard, he had instead set a time and place for a great duel, to decide who should control the world, good or evil.
Cedric, the Savior-Wizard, the greatest wizard in the world, stood five feet tall, still a boy. He was named for the famous death Voldemort had committed just before returning to his body. Cedric Diggory, the first victim of a new age of tyranny. Appearances were misleading though, and this boy was committed to the cause of fighting Voldemort, to the point of zealotry. He had trained his whole life for this battle. Since he was a baby, he had been trained to fight for good and justice. Mostly though, he was only trained to fight.
But still one obstacle remained between Cedric and victory. Lord Voldemort could, through some twisted ceremony, do everything the Savior- Wizard could.
Harry leaned forward to survey the battlefield. Showing respect, seeming oddly out of place for the situation, they bowed to each other; then raised their weapons, ready to launch into combat.
The attack happened so fast; Harry could've blinked and missed it. Without incantation, a bolt of fiery red burst from Voldemort's hands and streaked towards Cedric. Equally fast, the youth raised a shield, effectively saving him from the destructive explosion. Light streaked back and forth. Sometimes, one would change tactics, and create an earthquake, complete with fire shooting up from cracks in the Earth, or icy rain, but still neither gained an upper foot.
The battle was a true spectacle to behold, with neither side holding any advantage. If it wasn't so serious, if the outcome hadn't been the fate of the world, then Harry could've relaxed and enjoyed the match as though he was sitting in the stands below a Quiddatch match.
After ten minutes of intense and lightning fast fighting, Cedric cast the famed Avada Kadavra spell, while simultaneously throwing a long, wicked dagger. Evading the spell, Voldemort caught the dagger in the ribs, and with an intense grimace of pain and surprise, mixed surreally on his pale serpentine face, he collapsed, blood leaking out to soak his white robes.
Cedric stood still for a moment then moved towards the figure. Twice, the fallen man jerked, and quick as lightning, the teenager created a spectral shield, an incantation only the two in the dueling circle could master.
But Voldemort stopped twitching, and Cedric stood over him.
And one thought circulated through Harry's mind, and everyone else standing on the bluff, overlooking the battle. Could Voldemort be dead? Could the sword have vanquished the dark lord, where sorcery, power borne of the quill, failed?
Harry and Ron looked at the old man next to them. His beard went down to his belt, and his eyes, once twinkling at the slightest merriment, watched the scene below solemnly. He turned, looking at the two, once his students, but now his friends.
He shook his head, slowly, but surely. The message was clear.
"Voldemort cannot die. I do not know what the blessed dagger Cedric threw did to him, but he has come within a hairs breadth of immortality. He has limits, far away, but they are there. And he knows them better than we; I think we should be on guard for a truly desperate attack."
Below, Cedric seemed to share Dumbledore's opinion, and began muttering an incantation, preparing to try his best (which is a very considerable amount of power) at the task of destroying Lord Voldemort, once and for all.
He stopped though, as everyone's breath drew in unison. Voldemort's body began to glow, so brightly everyone flinched and shielded their eyes. Every color of the spectrum shone in the light, brighter than the sun.
All the watchers took a step back. Cedric appeared rattled, but then continued his incantation, pointing his staff at the fallen wizard.
Two things happened in a second. First, Cedric completed his spell with a yell of "FIAR!" Causing a deadly inferno of flames to shoot out from the end of his staff, aimed straight at Voldemort. Second, the flames hit the fallen body, and the dueling ring exploded.
A shockwave of white fire blasted outwards in a massive hemispheric explosion. The heat rolled over Harry, and the force threw him backwards onto the ground. He got up and looked at the dueling ring. The globe of fiery force had stopped just past the edge of the ring.
No one remained in the circle; for not even the land had survived. A perfect crater, forming a perfect sphere radiating from the point Voldemort's body had lain.
The watching wizards exploded in cheers, their screams of triumph went up to the clear blue sky. The laughed with relief, and cried in joy, and the entire time they kept cheering.
Their cheers went out across the country, marking the last day they would be terrorized by Voldemort's evil power. The cheers also carried grief for the Savior-Wizard, but the sadness of his death was remote. He had done his job, fulfilled his one purpose in life. And with his sacrifice, he had destroyed his enemy, obliterating the evil that had covered the world because of Voldemort's reign of terror. Everyone knew Cedric would've been happy at the end, both of the men named Cedric who were dead under the thumb of Lord Voldemort. Even though the price of the world's freedom had been their lives.
Harry Potter, the boy who had lived, looked up at the gray, cloudy sky. Although his joy was absolute, he knew in his heart something was wrong. He knew Voldemort was dead, gone forever, the power of the Savior- Wizard destroying him completely, but he also knew deep in his heart, that the world would soon see a greater and darker master. And this time, Cedric couldn't defeat the evil…
Many more surprises planned, this will only get better, so… yay! Chapter 1 to be released after its edited more, and I will also update this. If you read all the way through, meaning you're reading this now, then please review it! Anything you want to say… barring flames :). I had a friend who flamed me on another story for no reason… not cool. But anyway, reviewers who say something worthwhile get a prize*! I love you reviewers!