*** UPDATE: Sorry! I forgot to post this... the timeline has been shifted forward two years, so the Triwizard tournament takes place during year 6. Relative ages are the same.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Also, most of the prologue is straight from Goblet of Fire. You'll be able to tell where the change is, and after that, everything else is my own writing unless otherwise stated.

A/N: This story is unbeta'd, but fully outlined and partially written. All suggestions and criticisms for writing and editing are welcome. There will be no character bashing in this story.

Word Count: 2656 (2776 including extras)

Prologue

"You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?" said Voldemort softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness. "We bow to each other, Harry." Voldemort bent slightly, but kept his snakelike face fixed on Harry's. "Come, the niceties must be observed. Bow to death, Harry..."

Harry did not bow. He refused to give Voldemort the satisfaction.

"I said, bow." Voldemort raised his wand, and Harry felt his spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward. Voldemort and the Death Eaters laughed. "And now... we duel.

Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could do anything to defend himself, before he could even move, he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he was. White-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain, he was screaming more loudly than he'd ever screamed in his life...

And then it stopped. Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet. He staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters, and they shoved him away.

"That hurt, didn't it, Harry? You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

Harry didn't answer.

"I asked you whether you want me to do that again," said Voldemort softly. "Answer me! Imperio!"

Harry felt the sensation that his mind had been wiped of all thought... just answer... say no...

I will not. I won't answer...

Just answer no...

I won't do it, I won't say it..."

Just answer no...

"I WON'T!"

"You won't?" said Voldemort quietly. "You won't say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die... Perhaps another little dose of pain?"

Voldemort raised his wand, but this time Harry was ready. He flung himself sideways onto the ground; he rolled behind the marble headstone of Voldemort's father, and he heard it crack as the curse missed him.

"We are not playing hide and seek, Harry. You cannot hide from me. Does this mean that you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry... come out and play, then... it will be quick... it might even be painless... I would not know... I have never died..."

Harry crouched behind the headstone and knew the end had come. There was no hope... But as he heard Voldemort draw nearer, he knew only one thing. He was not going to die crouching here like a child; he was going to die upright like his father, and he was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defense was possible...

Before Voldemort could stick his snakelike face around the headstone, Harry stood up. He gripped his wand tightly in his hand, thrust it out in front of him, and threw himself around the headstone, facing Voldemort.

Voldemort was ready. As Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Voldemort cried, "Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light issued from Voldemort's wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Harry's. They passed through each other. Harry's spell hit Voldemort, who's wand flew through the air. Voldemort's spell crashed into Harry's chest.

Harry's body fell to the ground with a thump, and Voldemort's wand clattered onto the headstone beside him. Harry's own wand fell from his limp hand and rolled away.

Voldemort looked around at the gathered Death Eaters. "You see! No one can defeat Lord Voldemort! The Boy Who Lived is no more!"

The Death Eaters broke into a cacophony of shouting, stomping, and cheering at the death of Harry Potter. Voldemort smiled as he retrieved his wand, and picked up Harry's. He held the holly and phoenix feather wand high above his head, and brought it down swiftly across his knee. The wand snapped in two, and he tossed the pieces onto Harry's body.

"Now, my friends. Let us make a grand statement. Let the world know that Lord Voldemort has returned. Let them know fear!"

Chapter 1: The Next Great Adventure

Boy-Who-Lived Declared Dead! You-Know-Who Returns!

By Jeremy Scrivener

In a shocking turn of events, the worst Dark Lord of the century, previously believed to be dead, has returned in dramatic fashion. It was late last night as the final task of the Triwizard Tournament was nearing its end that Harry Potter, credited with the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as a child, reached the end of the maze. However, the trophy had been turned into a portkey, and as soon as he grabbed it, the Boy-Who-Lived was whisked away to parts unknown.

Now we know that it was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named behind this as hardly a few hours later there was an attack at the Ministry of Magic, which was open late for a celebration of the tournament's conclusion. Countless eye witnesses saw the megalomaniac holding a body and proclaiming the death of our savior. Many of these witnesses claim that the body was indeed that of Mr. Potter.

It appears that You-Know-Who had no intention of sticking around as just a short while later, he and his followers vanished from the Ministry building. The Ministry's famed Atrium was left in ruins, and the body of Mr. Potter was nowhere to be found.

Minister Fudge held a press conference early this morning, where he confirmed the rumors surrounding the attack, and announced his resignation, effective immediately. Kingsley Shacklebolt, a highly decorated Auror, will be serving on an interim basis until a replacement can be elected.

What remains a mystery is just what exactly happened to Mr. Potter's body, as extensive searches of the Ministry have revealed nothing. It seems that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named took the body with him, though for what purposes remain unknown.

"NO!"

Daphne Greengrass set the Daily Prophet down on the table and looked up in the direction of the shout. She wasn't surprised to see Ron Weasley being led from the Great Hall by a shaking Hermione. She exchanged a glance across the table with her best friend, Tracey Davis. This was definitely not good news, and Tracey's face reflected her concern.

All around, the students of Slytherin house were whispering. Daphne listened in, trying to confirm her fears. Most of what she heard seemed reasonable, but a few seats down, she overheard Pansy Parkinson whisper, "It's about time, isn't it? Draco has been insisting for years that Potter's luck had to run out at some point."

Past Parkinson, another Slytherin said, "At least those Gryffindors won't be so bloody arrogant now their savior's dead."

Daphne frowned. Were they really so callous as to say that the death of Potter was a good thing? Still, she mused, they weren't as bad as Malfoy was likely to be. And speaking of, Draco Malfoy just made his grand entrance into the Great Hall. Malfoy sat down next to Parkinson and immediately began to speak. "Heard the good news, everyone? Real change is about to come to our society, change for the better. I warned Potter that he would wind up like his parents, you know. He obviously didn't listen, and look at what that got him. Dead, that's what. You'd have to be a fool to stand against the Dark Lord. Unless, of course, you're a muggle lover. Then, it's only a matter of time."

Pansy tittered and threw a look over at Tracey. Tracey's eyes narrowed and she got up from the table. Daphne mimicked her and followed her out of the hall. Tracey was moving swiftly towards the library, which had become her haven during her time at Hogwarts.

"Tracey, wait up!"

Tracey slowed her pace and allowed Daphne to fall in step beside her. "You know Malfoy is just full of talk, Tracey. He's all bark and no bite."

Tracey shook her head. "Malfoy's a bigot, but that isn't what bothers me. Well, I mean, it does, but only because of Potter's death. That was a fun surprise to wake up to."

Daphne snorted. "Something like that. I think what surprised me the most is how much I believed all those stories... they made him out to be some sort of god. You know the rumors of what he got up to. If even half of them are true, he's either really lucky, really skilled, or both."

"You mean he was."

"Right..." Daphne's voice trailed off as they arrived at the library. Quickly stepping forward, she held the door open for Tracey who wandered inside. The pair made their way to their usual table near the back and sat down. Tracey began to draw patterns on the table with her finger while Daphne watched, concerned. "Tracey?"

"You know what this means, don't you?"

Daphne blinked. "Um, no more watching Malfoy and Potter throw hissy fits at each other?"

Tracey cracked a smile. "Well, yes, but that isn't what I meant." Her smile faded as she continued, "I mean that I can't come back next year."

That was unexpected. "Wait, what? How does that mean you can't come back?"

Tracey sighed impatiently and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Come on, Daphne, you know what its been like for me here. The other Slytherins... they don't like me."

Daphne was sorely tempted to point out how much of an understatement that was, but held back. "So what's changed?"

"Potter's dead. He was a sort of buffer, I think. You know, with him around, all the Slytherins would focus on him. I think that they were afraid of him. Malfoy especially. When he heard that rumor about the basilisk... I don't think I've ever seen his face so red!" Tracey giggled at the memory.

"But what are they going to do? It's not like they're going to go around trying to kill you. That's a bit extreme, even for Malfoy."

Tracey's face darkened. "I wouldn't put it past the bugger. I overheard him talking to Nott a few months ago-"

"Tracey, didn't we decide that Malfoy's full of hot air? You can't take anything he says seriously."

"But he sounded so... so official!"

Daphne sighed. "It'll be fine, Tracey. I'll be here to defend your honor. Besides, you have to come back. Would you really leave me to face a year of Malfoy on my own?"

Tracey grimaced. "Yuck. I guess that would be really mean... and you're probably right."

"And you simply can't afford to miss your N.E.W.T's. You know how much they mean when you're applying for a job!"

Daphne almost smiled at the palpable change in Tracey's attitude. "Oh, same old Daphne. Always worried about grades. You know, there's more to life than good grades."

"Name one thing!"

"Quidditch!"

"Oh, please, Tracey, not this again!"

"I'm telling you, Daphne, I've got it all planned out. I have a cousin who knows this guy who knows the owner of Puddlemere United. All I've got to do is show him my stuff, and before you know it, I'll be the general manager of the club! I haven't picked a single player who has gone bad yet!"

Tracey was always going on about her future quidditch job with Puddlemere United. Honestly, sometimes Daphne felt like she was talking to Ron Weasley. Okay, maybe that was a bit harsh. It was impossible for anyone to be as Quidditch obsessed as that boy. "But what if it doesn't work out, Tracey? Don't you want a backup plan?"

With a wave, Tracey dismissed the though. "C'mon, Daphne, you know what I can do. There's no way I'd be turned down!"

"What if they already have a general manager that they don't want to fire?"

Tracey paused. "Hmm. I haven't thought about that. But that's not a problem."

"Whatever happened to having it all planned out?"

"Oh, hush you."

"You could always go for a job as a Herbologist."

Tracey was silent for a moment. Daphne had been trying to convince Tracey to go into Herbology for years, ever since she found out that her friend regularly talked about the class with Neville Longbottom. Secretly, Daphne had always been a bit jealous of Tracey's natural skill in the class, but she'd never admit it.

After a moment, Tracey responded. "Nah. Neville's the Herbology guy. I just like plants. You know, like a hobby. Besides, I could do both if I got the job with Puddlemere."

"Fine, fine! I give up. Do what you want."

"Excellent! I knew you'd see it my way!"

"Mhmm. Hey, do you mind if I run back to the common room quick? I want to grab that Transfiguration essay..."

"But summer break hasn't even started yet! Merlin, Daphne, you can't seriously be considering starting on your summer work already!"

A light flush spread across Daphne's cheeks, but she stood her ground. "If I get it done sooner, I don't have to worry about it all summer long. You should consider it too, so you don't wind up having to do your work on the train again."

"Okay, I get it. Can you grab my stuff too? I'd go back myself, but-"

Daphne smiled. "I understand. I'll be back in a few. Stay out of trouble, Tracey!"

With her best innocent face, Tracey said, "Don't you trust me?"

Daphne snorted and walked away. The walk from the library back to the Slytherin common room was quite long, but Daphne never really minded. With most people outside enjoying their last day at Hogwarts, the halls were completely empty and Daphne found her walk to be especially relaxing.

She reached the common room and spoke the password. With a quick prayer that the common room was empty, she stepped inside. It took all of one second for Malfoy to appear and kill any hope of sliding past unnoticed.

"Greengrass, I'm glad I caught you before the train. Is Davis around?"

Not fully trusting herself to speak, Daphne shook her head.

"Good. Listen, I'm sure you heard the news." He took a pause, waiting for Daphne to answer, but she remained silent. When she didn't respond, he continued. "With Potter dead and the Dark Lord back, I think its about time you reconsider your friendship with her. Pure blood is so rare to come by these days, and it would be a shame to lose more to those damn muggle loving fools."

Though it took considerable effort, Daphne managed to hold herself back from punching Malfoy. "Honestly, Malfoy, I'm not looking to get into any fighting. I have no interest in fighting for the Dark Lord, or joining up with Potter's bunch. I just want to live my life."

With a heavy sigh, Malfoy conceded her point and allowed her to pass. As she walked away, he called after her, "You don't have forever, Greengrass. One day you'll have to pick a side. I only hope you make the right choice."

Daphne ignored him as she went up to her dormitory and grabbed her things, along with Tracey's bag. Her nose scrunched in disgust as she saw Pansy's things strewn about the room. The girl was a mess, and no amount of Malfoy worship was going to fix that. Daphne almost pitied her. Almost. Still, it must be nice living as a mindless sycophant. Not having to worry about your best friend being bullied for being a halfblood. Not having to deal with constant remarks of being a blood traitor. Not having to hear the offhanded comment from her father about how the wizarding world needs to be purified of the muggle filth. Must be nice.

Still, Daphne knew that Tracey had it much worse. After all, Daphne was a pureblood. Tracey didn't have that luxury. And with Potter gone... Well, she'd just have to keep a closer eye on things. And, of course, there was no need to make Tracey more concerned.

As Daphne walked out of the dormitory, she wondered to herself if she wasn't being selfish in asking Tracey to return for their last year.

A/N: This will be the only author's note at the bottom of a chapter. I just want to clarify for those of you put off by the prologue; Harry has a vital role to play in this story.