Shadows in the Graveyard
By cloneserpents
Standard Disclaimer: Not mine, all characters belong to JKR, I am writing this purely for entertainment, no money is being made. No copyright infringement is intended.
"Now, Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter, keep your heads about you in there," the plump Sprout said. "And remember; be fair and kind... but you should each really try to win."
"Yes, Professor Sprout," Harry and Cedric said in unison to their Head of House. The jolly old witch had been all atwitter ever since two champions were named from her House. It was so rare that Hufflepuff received any sort of recognition; they were the ones who weren't known for their ambition, bravery, or intelligence. And now they had not just one Champion, but two! Two Champions; this was something to brag about! And that exactly what Sprout had done over the past few months
She continued to give her two students words of support and advice. Harry only half listened; he scanned the growing crowd for a familiar tall man. Mr. Allard had promised that he would bring Harry's tools, and yet, the final task was about to begin. Harry didn't believe for a second that Mr. Allard had forgotten; despite his advanced years, the man's mind was like a steel trap. Harry was concerned that Mr. Allard was waylaid and would not get to Hogwarts in time.
Harry recalled the day he had first met Mr. Allard... or more accurately, the day he first heard Mr. Allard. Harry was nine years old. Uncle Vernon had decided to earn a little extra money by helping some mobsters launder some of their ill-gotten gain. Harry always wondered where Vernon had developed the backbone to undertake such an illegal activity. Not only did Mr. Allard make sure Vernon and the mobsters faced justice, he ended up taking Harry from the neglectful Dursley household and raising the boy as his protégé.
"Oh, here are you parents and guardian, boys," Sprout said and scampered over to the three people who had just walked out of the crowd.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Mr. Allard was there next to Cedric's folks.
"Hello Amos and Celia," Sprout said as she embraced both of Cedric's parents. "So good to see you again."
The plump witch gave the tall and wrinkly old man standing next to the Diggorys a happy smile.
"And you must be Kent Allard," she said and shook his hand. Her finger's brushed up against a large red ruby ring on the older man's hand. "You've done a fine job of raising Harry."
"Thank you," he said in his deep and resonating voice.
"I'd love to chat with you, Mr. Allard," she said cheerily. "Harry isn't much of a conversationalist, tight lipped he is, and I would so love to hear stories about his youth with you, sir."
"In a few moments," Mr. Allard said dismissively. "I need to give something to Harry."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Allard," Sprout said. "But the Champions aren't allowed to take anything into the maze with except for their wands."
Harry saw Mr. Allard eye Sprout intensely and his eyes flashed briefly in the waning light. Suddenly, Professor Sprout became very confused and distracted.
"Oh, dear, I've seemed to have forgotten something," she mumbled apologetically. The witch nervously looked about her, as if she was expecting some sort of clue that might tell her what she had forgotten. "I can't recall what I forgot, but I know that it is dreadfully important."
With a tip of her head, the Hufflepuff Head of House bid farewell to Harry and his enigmatic guardian and scurried away.
"Here you go, Harry," Mr. Allard said and he handed the young wizard a satchel. "Shrink it down and put it in your pocket."
The black haired wizard followed his guardian's order.
"Once you get in that silly maze, put it on," the elderly man said to Harry. "Use only your wand until the trap is sprung, understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Allard, sir," Harry said respectively.
"Have you been able to figure out who your mystery helper is?" Mr. Allard asked as he scanned the crowd of people around him. His large hooked nose gave Harry the impression that Mr. Allard was a hawk looking for a meal as he looked over the large group of people.
"No, sir, not yet," Harry said. He and Mr. Allard had come to the conclusion that someone within the school had been giving Harry a helping hand in the tasks; dropping hints and clues that were essential in his completing the tasks. It wasn't coincidence that, Hagrid showing him the dragons that would comprise the first task, Professor Moody gave Harry the extremely appropriate suggestion about using Harry's talent for flying to snatch the golden egg. And then there was how Cedric conveniently told him the method in deciphering the egg's message, or Dobby offering him gillyweed at the last possible second, ensuring Harry's participation in the second task. No, someone was pulling the strings and making these various people do these things. Harry had not yet found out who it was despite discretely interrogating Cedric and Hagrid as well as having his agents, Hermione, Neville, Susan, Theodore, and Ernie, keeping look- out for anything suspicious.
But Harry and Mr. Allard knew that whoever this person was, he or she was working for Voldemort and that this mysterious person was trying to make sure that Harry made it to the Third Task. With a little logic, the desire for Harry's inclusion was obvious; Voldemort was going to do something in the maze and had set a trap for the Boy Who Lived, therefore the evil wizard had to make sure that Harry made it through the different and difficult tasks. Voldemort, in one form or another, or his followers had been trying to kill Harry for some time now. So it was a logical conclusion to assume that Voldemort was behind all of this.
"While you're busy in the maze, I will investigate this Moody fellow a little more closely," Mr. Allard said in his deep and chilling voice.
"Why Professor Moody, sir?" Harry asked his mentor and guardian.
"For several reasons," the elderly man replied. "You told me that there was a magical 'age line' around the Goblet that prohibited anyone who wasn't an adult to come close to it. This meant that person working for Voldemort had to be an adult so that they could be near enough to the Goblet in order to properly tamper with it to guarantee your selection.
"Second, the person who has been guiding your friends into giving you hints and clues about the Tasks obviously has inside knowledge about the tasks themselves. This means it is either someone who set up the Challenges or is a Professor, both of whom would have such insight. And seeing that Moody is new to the castle, he is the most evident choice."
"What about Snape?" Harry asked. "We know he was a Death Eater working for Voldemort in the war. He may have given state's evidence which led to the capture of several other Death Eaters, but that may have just been a ploy to get in Dumbledore's good graces."
"True," Mr. Allard added. "I will search his room as well."
Mr. Allard didn't wish Harry luck; he never believed in such things. He believed in skill, talent and drive. And he had trained Harry enough over the years since becoming his guardian to know that the young wizard had enough of these qualities to pull through whatever Voldemort had in store for him.
Harry watched his mentor melt into the crowd and disappear. The old man would find his way through the castle and discover the evidence he was looking for without assistance; he always did.
The two Hufflepuff Champions were tied for points and therefore started the race at the same time. Ludo Bagman gave them the signal and Harry and Cedric dashed into the maze. The two immediately came upon a fork in the path.
"You take left, I'll take right," suggested Cedric.
Harry nodded his head and took the left path. Once he was a good distance away, Harry hid amongst the branches of a dark corner in the maze and pulled the satchel that Mr. Allard had given him. After unshrinking it, Harry rapidly discarded his school robes and donned his black overcoat (Mr. Allard had always preferred a cloak, but Harry felt that an overcoat was more fitting for his own style). Next, he pulled his precious tools out of the satchel and placed them inside the special compartments inside the coat. Now that he was prepared, Harry began to move through the maze.
Several challenges presented themselves to the young wizard. Most of these challenges were simple things designed to trick the mind such as boggarts and a mist that clung to the ground. Mr. Allard was a master at tricking the mind and he had spent a good amount of time training Harry in such abilities and consequently, Harry was able to easily discern how the boggart and the mist were trying to affect him. He was able to counteract them using the skills that Mr. Allard had taught him.
But then Harry heard a scream and followed by a loud bang; it was Fleur and she was in trouble. Judging by the bang sound, Harry assumed that she had been hit by something. He dashed through the maze and quickly came upon her unconscious body. It was clear that she wasn't attacked by one of the maze's challenges because the pretty blonde did not have a scratch or any other mark on her body. So, Harry deducted that the bang sound he heard was a spell or a hex, more likely than not the Stupefy Charm. That meant that one of the other Champions attacked Fleur. Harry's suspicions that someone wanted to make sure Harry reached the cup was just strengthened; they were eliminating Harry's competition. Harry took off, leaving Fleur on the ground. He couldn't waste time trying to help revive her; he had a trap to spring.
As he traveled through the maze, he came across another of his fellow Champions; Krum. The burly wizard looked at Harry and passed him without saying a word. Using the abilities that Mr. Allard had taught him, Harry was able to look into Krum's mind and see that the wizard was not only disoriented and in a daze, but that he was being led by an outside force. It was the same reaction he had seen in his fellow classmates when they were under the effects of the Imperius Curse. Clearly, the wizard or witch who had been helping Harry was now controlling the Durmstrang Champion. He or she was using Krum to take out the other Champions, hoping to give Harry a clear shot at the Cup.
Harry was positive now; the person working for Voldemort must've set something up at the finish line. Krum was evidentially under orders from Voldemort's operative to take out Harry's competition so that no one else was allowed to touch the Cup. He had already taken Fleur out of the competition and Harry wouldn't have to worry about Cedric once Krum met up with him.
A few moments later, a Blast-Ended Skrewt charged at Harry and he tapped into the abilities that Mr. Allard had taught him. He Clouded the animal's mind, creating confusion in its mind, much like how Mr. Allard had Clouded Professor Sprout's mind earlier. The Skrewt stumbled slightly and changed it course. Instead of chasing Harry, the monster was now savagely pursuing a leaf that was blowing in the wind as if it was its next meal.
Harry came across a Sphinx a short while after that. The magical beast demanded that Harry answer its riddle. Mr. Allard would often give Harry riddles and make the boy solve mind puzzles as part of his training. Mr. Allard's riddles were much more difficult than the Sphinx's and Harry was able to solve the riddle easily.
As he entered another ring in the maze, he heard Cedric screaming in agony. Harry ran toward the screams and came upon Krum standing over Cedric. Diggory was thrashing and screaming on the ground. Harry assumed that Krum would've hit Cedric with a Stunned like he had done with Fleur. Clearly the person controlling Krum wasn't satisfied with just stunning Cedric. Instead he or she had Krum put Cedric under the Cruciatus Curse. Harry wanted Cedric out of the competition for his own safety, but not like this. He quickly leveled his wand at Krum and shouted "Stupefy!"
The Bulgarian wizard crumpled to the ground after the moment the red bolt hit him in the chest. With his knees shaking, Cedric stood.
"What the hell did he think he was doing?" Cedric screamed. "He was using an Unforgivable! Did he want to win the Tournament that much?"
"Don't know," Harry lied; he didn't want to waste time filling Cedric in. But now that Krum was out of the picture, Harry had to make sure that Cedric couldn't reach the cup for his own safety. In order to do so, Harry needed to distract Cedric. "Should we let him lie there?"
"We should, maybe one of the monsters will eat him then," Cedric said bitterly. "But that wouldn't be right."
"Yeah, I'll send up a flare," Harry said and knelt next to Krum's body.
Cedric turned his back on Harry and Krum. He asked "Which way is the Cup I wonder?"
As soon as Cedric was distracted, Harry picked up Krum's wand and leveled it at his house-mate's back. As rapidly as he could, Harry shouted a warning; "Cedric, look out! Krum's up!"
Then, as Cedric began to spin around, Harry growled the incantation for the Stupefying Charm. The red bolt of magic hit Cedric square in his back and he fell to the floor. If Harry made it out of Voldemort's trap alive, he would simply tell everyone that the Stunner that he had hit Krum with wasn't very effective and that the Bulgarian woke up and stunned Cedric. Harry would then go on and lie to everyone and say that he was able to hit Krum with a much more effective Stunning Spell. He would finish his tale by telling everyone that he didn't know how to revive Cedric, so he just called for help instead.
Harry used both Krum's and Cedric's wands to fire off two flares. The officials would respond to the signal and pick up the two fallen Champions.
Now that his competition was out of the way, Harry headed for the center of the maze. Harry saw the Cup a few dozen feet in front of him. Knowing that there was a trap for him, Harry cautiously approached the Cup.
Suddenly, an Acromantula charged out of the shadows. Much like he had done with the Blast-Ended Skrewt, Harry Clouded the beast's mind. The giant spider turned and scurried back into the shadows. Clouding a beast was a simple task; it was one of the first things Mr. Allard had taught him.
Now that that threat was out of the way, Harry headed toward the Cup. He cast several scanning charms that his own book wise agent, Hermione, had found in some advanced books. They were difficult to perform, but Harry had gotten the hang of it. He discovered after a moment that the Cup had been turned into a Portkey. Voldemort wanted Harry someplace outside of Hogwarts. Harry could easily walk away from the Portkey and not face whatever awaited him, but taking the Portkey was a sure way of catching and finishing Voldemort off. Steeling himself for whatever might happen on the destination point of the Portkey, Harry reached out and touched the Cup.
The moment his finger touched it, he felt a tug behind his navel and he flew through the air. A few moments later, he tumbled on to the ground. Knowing it was a trap; Harry sprang to his feet and quickly surveyed his surroundings. He discovered that he was in an old and unkempt graveyard. The various tombstones and mausoleums were crumbling and overrun with weeds. A house on a hill a few hundred feet away reminded Harry of something, but he could not recall what. To his right was an enormous caldron; large enough for a person to sit in.
Then, suddenly, a sharp blinding pain pierced through his scar. It was a searing pain, like someone had jabbed a hot poker into his forehead. The young wizard was able to realize that the pain was a form of mental attack, but he could do nothing to protect himself from it. All the training that Mr. Allard had given Harry seemed ineffectual against this attack. It was as if the person attacking Harry had some sort of direct connection to him and was able to bypass the boy's defenses.
The pain was so intense that Harry fell to his knees. He desperately tried to fight it, but the pain was overwhelming.
"Bind him, Wormtail," a cold and high voice commanded.
Harry felt ropes wrap tightly around his arms and chest. Then he was thrown roughly against a headstone.
Harry saw Wormtail, the rat who had betrayed Harry's parents, shuffle up to the area where he had fallen. The balding wizard was carrying something small, wrapped in a sheet.
Immediately after he was bound, the pain in Harry's head began to subside. Either he was able to block out the pain or the person attacking him was easing his efforts now that Harry was no longer a threat. Harry smiled to himself: it was a mistake to think that Kent Allard's protégé wasn't a threat anymore.
"Hurry, Wormtail," the object hissed.
Wormtail lowered the swaddled creature into the large cauldron.
With both his voice and hand shaking, Wormtail raised his wand and incanted; "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
The earth in front of Harry's feet opened and a fine trickle of whitish dust rose into the air. It drifted through the wind and landed into the cauldron.
Then Wormtail trembled even more as he drew a dagger from his robes. The wizard held his hand over the cauldron and continued to incant: "Flesh of the servant... w-willingly given... you will revive... your Master!"
Harry watched in morbid fascination as Wormtail chopped off his own right hand. The severed limb made a plopping noise as it sunk into the cauldron.
Clutching his ruined stump in the nook of his left arm, Wormtail staggered over to Harry.
"Blood of the enemy... forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe!"
After pushing the sleeve of his coat up, Wormtail dragged the blade across the crook of Harry's right arm. The young wizard grimaced at Wormtail, relishing the thought that he was going to make the traitorous rat pay very shortly.
After cutting the boy's arm, Wormtail moved back to the cauldron and dropped the blood that was on the blade into the simmering potion. The cauldron erupted in light and a few moments later, a white and skeletal-thin figure rose up out of the pot.
Moody was pacing back and forth. Thanks to his wondrous magical eye, he was able to see through the maze and had seen the boy disappear a few moments ago. Everything had gone according to plan. Now he was just waiting for the word to join his master.
As Moody walked around the edge of the maze, heading back to the starting line, he froze as a voice called out to him.
"Good evening, Professor Moody," the voice came from every direction. The wizened retired Auror spun around, trying to find the source of the voice, but to no avail.
"I was just in your room," the ominous voice continued. The mystery man's voice drifted on the wind and surrounded Moody. His magical eye spun wildly in its socket, desperately trying to pinpoint the speaker.
"Show yourself," Moody demanded, pulling out his wand.
"Your trunk was most interesting. Such wonderful craftsmanship," the voice continued. "But it wasn't as interesting as what, or rather who, was inside."
His magical eye picked up movement a few feet behind him. This fool was hiding in the shadows and was throwing his voice like some Muggle stage magician. He was trying to sneak up behind the former Auror and get the drop on him. But the mystery man obviously hadn't counted on Moody's magical eye picking him up.
"You just sealed your fate," Moody growled. He didn't know if the man was bluffing about being able to open his trunk or not, but Moody wasn't going to take chances.
He turned around and muttered a Stupefying Charm; he would transfigure the fool into a shoe and deal with him later where there was no chance of witnesses. The red bolt struck its target but nothing happened. The thing that Moody aimed at was nothing more than a bush. He could've sworn that it was a man sneaking up behind him!
"Justice shall be served," the voice said. Unlike before, the voice wasn't surrounding Moody. No, this time the voice was emanating directly behind him, less than two feet away. Moody's magical eye spun around in his socket and gazed through the back of his skull. He barely had time to register what he saw; it was a man in a black cloak and a wide brimmed fedora with a red scarf covering the lower half of his face. Moody didn't have time to turn around and defend himself; the .45 caliber slug punched a hole into the back of his skull and turned his brain into porridge before he got the chance.
The pain in his skull had completely subsided. Harry came to realize that Voldemort had been the one behind that attack but the young wizard also realized that Voldemort hadn't know that he could cause him such pain and that the evil wizard had no control over it. He speculated that the attack was caused by Voldemort's emotions; his hatred and anger. When Harry first arrived, Voldemort was clearly full of anger and rage at the sight of Harry, the person who had destroyed his body. But now that Harry was bound and believed to be defenseless, Voldemort was calm. Therefore, the so-called "Dark Lord's" anger wasn't affecting Harry as much as it had.
Five minutes after Voldemort had resurrected himself; he had summoned a number of his followers and he was giving them some sort of speech about loyalty and revenge. He had even given Wormtail a new silver hand.
Harry wasn't listening too much. He was too busy focusing on reinforcing his skills. Harry hadn't counted on having so many people to deal with; it would take some effort on his part to Could all of them at the same time. Mr. Allard would have had no problem doing such a thing, but he had mastered the technique decades ago, whereas Harry was still a relative novice. Harry believed that his Clouding would be helped by the panic and shock he was about to cause.
Harry was pulled out of his meditations when Voldemort snarled "Crucio!"
It was pain unlike Harry had never felt before. It ripped through his body causing him to scream. It felt like an eternity of agony.
"Untie him, Wormtail, and give him his wand," Voldemort ordered after raising the Cruciatus Curse.
The rat-like man scurried up to Harry, who was still panting, and waved his wand. The ropes disappeared and Harry slumped over. Wormtail shoved Harry's wand into his hand and pulled him up into a standing position.
Harry saw that Voldemort was a few feet in front of him. And judging by the evil man's stance, he wanted to duel with Harry.
Taking a calming breath, Harry tucked his wand into one of the overcoat's pockets. As he did this, he quickly centered himself and focused on Mr. Allard's training.
"Are you giving up, Harry?" Voldemort asked mockingly. "You want to die without even trying to defend yourself?"
Satisfied that he was ready, Harry opened his eyes and spoke; "Let's get this over with."
"Pity, I was looking forward to making you beg," Voldemort commented as he caressed his wand.
Voldemort began to wave his wand and he opened his mouth, ready to shout an incantation when Harry made his move. The young man's hands shot into his overcoat and under each arm and pulled out two of his tools. To all of the Death Eaters, it looked like Harry had just pulled out two silver toys. In the blink of an eye, he leveled both tools at Voldemort. The Death Eaters had shunned all contact with the Muggle world and therefore didn't recognize the danger that Harry held in his hands. Voldemort, however, did recognize the tools. As quickly as he could, Voldemort tried to raise a Shield Charm, but it was too late.
Harry squeezed both triggers and the .45's barked and spat fire. The lead slugs slammed through Voldemort's wrists, destroying his hands. The snake fell to his knee as blood sprayed out of what used to be his hands.
The Death Eaters that were gathered around their master were quite surprised to see Voldemort's hands turn into bloody pulps in a split second. Harry used their shock to his advantage. The young man reached out with his mind and touched each of the Death Eaters. Using his Clouding abilities, Harry heightened their surprise and created confusion. The Death Eaters began looking around frantically and Harry made his move.
Voldemort wasn't an immediate threat now that he couldn't hold a wand. So Harry decided to deal with the "Dark Lord's" followers.
To make sure that Wormtail didn't have an opportunity to scurry away like the last time Harry had him in captivity, Harry decided to start off by hobbling the Animagus. He fired off three shots in rapid succession. The first two bullets struck home and shattered Pettigrew's knees; the bullets tore through skin, muscle, and bone. The third shot was off a few inches and merely grazed Wormtail's elbow. Mr. Allard would not be pleased with such an inaccurate shot; he had spent many hours with Harry during holidays training him how to be a marksman.
Some of the Death Eaters began to scatter in blind fear; they had no idea what was happening but their Master and Wormtail had just fallen and panic had settled on them. Harry wasn't overly worried about his foes Apparating away. From what he had read on Apparation, the person needed to focus on his or her destination to do it properly. And seeing how the scurrying Death Eaters were all confused and panicking, Harry doubted that any of them would be able to concentrate enough to escape. To add to their panic even more, Harry used another of Mr. Allard's teachings and blended into the shadows.
To the Death Eaters, it must've appeared that all hell had just broken lose. Their Lord and Master was gravely injured, Pettigrew was crippled, and now Potter had just disappeared into the darkness. The shadows of the tombstones and sculptures seemed to move and shift right before their eyes. Suddenly, loud bangs began to sound from all around them and their comrades began to fall to the ground dead.
Harry moved from shadow to shadow, using his abilities to shroud himself from his opponents' eyes. He circled around behind six Death Eaters who had grouped closely together. Three rounds from each of his tools dispatched the evil wizards quickly. Another three slugs took out a trio of Death Eaters trying to run away on foot.
Now that his tools were empty of bullets, Harry dropped the smoking weapons at his feet. He rapidly reached into his overcoat and withdrew another pair of tools from one of the many hidden compartments.
"Stand your ground, fools!" Lucius Malfoy shouted. "Quickly, form a circle and fire hexes in every direction!"
Malfoy was trying to organize his fellow Death Eaters and retaliate. Harry couldn't have that. Quiet as a shadow, Harry slinked up behind Malfoy and placed the barrel of his tool against the base of the blond wizard's neck and squeezed the trigger. Malfoy's neck exploded in a fountain of blood and gore as the slug tore through his neck. Any Death Eater who had felt bolstered by Malfoy's words had just been plunged back into a blind panic.
Silent and unseen, Harry moved in between the Death Eaters; picking them off one-by-one. Three times, Harry's aim was a little off and he only incapacitated his target instead of killing them. Mr. Allard would not be pleased at all with such inefficiency; Harry dreaded the talk that he was surely going to have with his mentor.
Every once in a while, one Death Eater would fire off a hex or curse blindly in hopes of striking their apparently invisible assailant. But their efforts would only kill or incapacitate one of their brethren or destroy a tombstone.
Harry felt no remorse or guilt as he systematically killed off the Death Eaters one by one. Most of them were murderers and the others aided in those murders in one form or another. Therefore, every single one of Voldemort's followers deserved to die.
Once Harry's tools had fired off the seven rounds in their magazine, he discarded them and withdrew his last pair from his jacket. He had to be even more careful about his targets now, he had only fourteen rounds left and he needed one to finish off Voldemort.
Harry stepped over Wormtail who was trying to claw at the earth in order to escape; his ruined legs dragging behind him. Harry wasn't going to kill the traitor; he was going to drag Wormtail back to the Ministry and prove that Sirius wasn't the one who had led Voldemort to Godric's Hollow. Justice had to be served.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw two Death Eaters flee the cemetery. This did not overly concern Harry; he and Mr. Allard would be able to track them down and make sure that they would be punished for their crimes no matter where they ran to.
By the time Harry had finished, nearly twenty-five Death Eaters lay dead. Seven were mortally injured and four more were crippled, including Wormtail. He did a quick count and calculated that less than half a dozen villains were able to escape.
Now that his supporters had been dealt with, it was Voldemort's turn to face justice. Harry lowered the Cloud and stepped toward the man who had killed his parents.
"Y-you think... you can stop me, boy," Voldemort snarled in pain as the stumps at the end of his wrists seeped blood. "Do your worst; I cannot be killed. I will be back and you will beg for mercy."
Harry didn't know if Voldemort was bluffing or not; it really didn't matter. He pointed his weapon in between Voldemort's red eyes. In those eyes, Harry saw defiance mingled with a touch of fear.
"I will be back," the evil wizard said an instant before Harry squeezed the trigger.
Harry's last slug slammed into Voldemort's forehead and cracked his skull wide open. Blood and grey matter flowed out of the gash freely and pooled in the grass about his ruin skull.
Suddenly, a flash of green light erupted from Voldemort's wound and Harry saw something like a black mist spill out of the gore. The mist made a painful moaning sound as it rapidly drifted across the ground and out of the graveyard.
Apparently, Voldemort had not been bluffing; he couldn't be killed, not entirely. Harry watched as the dark mist disappeared; there was nothing he could do at that moment; he could not cage or kill a spirit. But he was satisfied; Voldemort had been dealt with, for the time being at least.
The young man walked up to the whimpering coward Wormtail and grabbed the back of his robes. Wormtail sniveled and cried as Harry dragged him back to the Cup. In a few moments, Harry would dump Wormtail in front of everyone and prove that his godfather was not a murderer.
He knew that he still had to deal with Voldemort one day. But Harry had successfully destroyed the villain's body and the last time this happened to Voldemort, it took him thirteen years to find a new one. Perhaps it would take Voldemort another thirteen years to resurrect himself again. And by that time, Harry will have mastered all of Kent Allard's trainings as well as his own wizarding abilities. Voldemort wouldn't stand a chance. Harry will have taken up Mr. Allard's mantle as The Shadow, and any who had darkness lurking in their hearts would come to fear him.
Author's notes: Another experiment outside of humor. This time, I took the "Someone new raises Harry" storyline.