Barty Crouch, Jr., currently Voldemort's most-trusted (if slightly mad) Death Eater, took a slow, suspicious look around the center of the leafy, dark maze. It was a relatively large space with a pedestal in the middle. He cautiously eyed the acromantula, currently slumped unconscious in the corner of the rectangular space. It would awaken from its enchanted sleep the moment the first contestant entered the maze.
"I still say using these creatures is a bad idea. Are you certain the wards will hold when the walls drop? I wouldn't put sabotage past the Death Eaters you let in here, Albus," he said disapprovingly, trying to stay in character. Soon, he reminded himself. Soon, I will not have to stay in character any longer. He was tired of pretending to like his master's most fervent enemy. He just wanted to stick a dagger in Dumbledore's guts, grab a random wizard for the ritual, and be done with it.
"As you insisted, I have prevented anyone but the champions and our rescue team from entering or leaving, Alastor," the old man said with a bit of well-suppressed irritation. "And Severus has my full confidence."
"But not mine, Albus." Barty said, deliberately prickling the old man. He heard Dumbledore suppress a sigh of irritation. He sat the cup on the stand and began keying it into the wards of the maze.
"I'm afraid I must be off then, Alastor. Bagman has been getting nervous," Dumbledore said, and headed out as Barty worked.
Barty grinned maniacally when he was finally alone. After "Moody" had finished the final spells to prepare the cup for the end of the task, he had one last addition to add. It would be a two-way portkey. The boy would grab it, resurrect his master, and return as a corpse, carrying news of his master's resurrection to the world with the death of their 'hope'. Conquest should be easy with such a blow to the morale of their unsuspecting foes.
"Portus," he declared, focusing on the location he needed to cup to reach, then walked away.
In the graveyard, Wormtail and his master worked on another set of preparations. The potion to recreate his master's body, the central part of the ritual, was reaching the final phase of its preparation as his Crucio-happy master looked on. He hid a sigh of resignation. Life had been so much better as a rat. No-one had ever thought to check his furry forearms for the dark mark, and he had led a generally happy and lazy life, cared for by a loving and happy family. A part of him honestly hoped this ritual would fail.
He had no idea that his silent prayers would be answered. Unfortunately for Wormtail, no one had ever told him to be careful what he wished for.
After the first contestant entered the maze, the giant spider awoke. It then stood up and took a moment to survey its surroundings. it did not take long for the intelligent spider to determine that it was trapped. The only openings in the maze were guarded by a sphinx and another, equally deadly magical trap. It decided to settle in and wait. Hopefully some food would cross its path soon or the Sphinx would move.
As it searched for the best hiding spot in the overly-exposed room, it one of its legs brushed against the shiny obstacle on the pedestal. Instantly, it was frozen in place and whiled about in the air until it became dizzy, the landscape streaking by too quickly for even its multi-faceted eyes to follow.
When the whirling stopped, the spider staggered dizzily, trying to re-orient itself, then spotted a delicious-looking man with a stick stirring an some sort of sludge in a giant metal or stone container. It was not in the Forbidden Forest and this man was neither in its territory nor a Hogwarts student, so Aragog's instructions to leave such beings be without explicit permission were quickly discarded. Disoriented, angry, and hungry, the predator pounced without a second thought. Its fangs sunk deep into the man's torso and he screamed in pain, thrashing.
The small, disgusting thing that looked like food but did not smell like food shrieked in anger and shot a beam of green-colored light at the spider. Its magic-resistant body resisted the spell, resulting in a moment's disorientation. The spider's instinct's screamed 'DANGER!' and it turned, striking at the feeble enemy before it. Lord Voldemort's current corporeal form perished almost instantly as the ferocious spider ripped its head from its frail body, then proceeded to make mincemeat of the remains.
In the meanwhile, a whimpering Peter Pettigrew gasped wetly, warm blood and venom leaking from his shoulder and side. He staggered slowly and painfully away from the spider and the graveyard. A slow numbness began to creep over him. Peter realized that he was dying.
Peter doubted he would survive without immediate medical attention, and Barty Crouch was not due until the task was complete. That left him with two options - go to St. Mungo's and risk a fate worse than death (the Dementor's kiss and life in Azkaban both counted, in his opinion), or being eaten by a hungry acromantula. If he got medical attention, if he called the knight bus or apparated, he could maybe escape after treatment, so long as Potter's story of his animaigus form was not believed. If he didn't, he would die the moment the enraged oversized arachnid turned its attention back his way. Peter stared at the wand in his uninjured hand in indecision.
As his vision began to fade, he made a choice.
And because I am feeling sadistic, you can just imagine the choice. Does he go to St. Mungo's, get caught, and end up unintentionally freeing Sirius Black, or does he take too long to get away, resulting in the Aurors finding the mangled corpse of a man who should have been years ago, thus raising the related questions anyway? Does Barty Crouch Jr. have enough sense to run away or does he run out of Polyjuice while waiting for his master to revive and end up being kissed? Who knows? I felt like leaving a cliff hanger.