A/N: This story is mainly here as a prequel to Harry Avenger: Soldiers When They Needed Us Most. It probably will be eventually finished but as the main focus is Harry Avenger
This story is mostly canon up to the scene at the graveyard, with a few notable exceptions:
Cedric is slightly closer to harry than in canon in fourth year, a kind of mentor and older brother figure, Ron and Hermione will still be quite close to Harry, but will start to involve himself less with them(at least in the beginning; they will remain friends though!) Harry also didn't really crush on Cho in his fourth year.
Harry is tougher from all of his experiences that he has faced and his horrid upbringing, a bit more realistic than canon. Also, his childhood is a bit rougher, or at least more explored, than in canon. The gang previous to Dudley's(and one he may have been a part of), and much older than Harry at the time, was encouraged to get rid of that dam hooligan. That's not how it is noted in the books, but it makes more sense to me than the stories where Harry is noticeably beaten, abused and gravely injured even to the biggest local idiots. The Dursleys do everything in their power to look respectable, after all. Obviously, he is quite a bit more mature than his age because of this. However, he is still the Harry we all know and love!
Harry is not going to be a god-like super being at all. He will face many challenges and setbacks, but will actually use all that power he has instead of wasting it like in canon. "The power that the dark lord knows not", also known as love(not romantic love, actual pure love), will be the main focus of the story.
Dumbledore will make MUCH better choices than in canon! It's almost impossible to find a fanfiction where he does so, and that is part of the reason I'm writing this. He will also view Harry as a bit more of a grandson than anything else, and while still being just as flawed as in canon, will be a slightly better person at the same time if that makes any sense. Harry will also be taking things a bit more seriously like any sane person would have done had they had a dark wizard after them and had to fight him.
Voldemort will be slightly more psychotic and hate-filled than in canon, which to me would make more sense. Magic has everything to do with intent and willpower, making things happen(which will also be a major part of the story) and Voldemort fuels his magic with hate. Or to be more specific, considering righteous anger also exists, selfish evil intent/hate. And boy, does Voldemort have a lot for Harry!
The Death Eaters will be a bit more numerous and organized than canon.
I DO NOT own Harry Potter whatsoever(though I wish I did).
Also, please note that this first chapter will have numerous pieces from the fourth book! So don't be frustrated about it, this is just grafting my version into canon!
There are a couple insignificant changes besides these, but that's all of the main ones. So without further adieu, i present to you: Harry Potter and the Power of Love!
Chapter 1: What Doesn't Kill you...
And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Harry, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air… It's done wrong, he thought… it's drowned… please… please let it be dead….
But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.
"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one handed over his master's head
The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry… and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils…
Lord Voldemort had risen again.
-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
June 24th
Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, the eyes that brought Aurors to their knees in terror just by their hateful gaze, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant, already contemplating what dark act he should commit first with them. He took not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry again, hissing. Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket of his deathly black robe and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too, as it quivered in impatience, longing to be released upon others; and he raised his left unarmed hand, pointing at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied; he fell to the foot and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.
Wormtail's robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.
"My Lord…" he choked, "my Lord… you promised… you did promise…"
"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.
"Oh, Master… thank you, Master…"
He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again. So amusing, he thought.
"The other arm, Wormtail."
"Master, please… please…"
Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow, and Harry saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth - the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.
He could have done so with a flick of his fingers, of course; but Voldemort wanted to savor the feeling of having a body again, of successfully returning from that meager existence.
"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it… and now, we shall see… now we shall know…"
He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.
The boy let out a whimper of pain, and Wormtail gave a fresh howl; Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's mark, which had turned jet black.
A look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Voldemort straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.
"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"
He began to pace up and down before Harry and Wormtail, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while, thinking about how exactly he should welcome back his followers and what to do with Potter. He felt the special knife in his left pocket, the knife that was the symbol of his all-powerful hatred, genius, and power. This should have been my next horcrux if it weren't for Potter… A horcrux so imbued with Fiendfyre before creation could not possibly be destroyed by Fiendfyre itself… I could have been even farther along immortality consequently. It's a pity I didn't do the same with my other horcruxes, but it matters nothing in the end, I am still immortal, he thought, looking down at Harry again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face. How fitting that he, my greatest setback, should be marked with it!
He then noticed the defiant look on the brat's face, and looked at all the love even now still inside him, in his presence! This stirred his deep wells of hate; how dare he! As always instead of lashing out like a fool he let it simmer, contained it with the rest and let it build up inside of him, to come back out with ten times the intensity. Soon you shall feel my power, Potter; your precious love won't keep you from death.
"You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly. "A muggle and a fool… very like your dear mother. They both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child… and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death…."
Voldemort laughed again. Up and down he paced, looking all around him as he walked, and the snake continued to circle in the grass.
"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was… He didn't like magic, my father…
"He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage… but I vowed to find him… I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name… Tom Riddle…."
Still, he paced, his red eyes darting from grave to grave.
"Listen to me, reliving family history…" he said quietly, "why, I am growing quite sentimental…. But look, Harry! My true family returns…."
The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were apparating, there had to be at least sixty or so of them, all hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward… slowly, cautiously as though they could hardly believe their eyes. Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them, Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort, and kissed the hem of his black robes.
"Master… Master…" he murmured.
The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up to form a smaller inner and much larger outer circle that was centered around Tom Riddle's grave. Twelve or so of the Death Eaters gathered had silver masks and the rest had bone white ones. The silver Death Eaters were even more fanatic in their worship of Voldemort than the others of course, and they comprised the inner circle. However, both circles had large gaps in them, but Voldemort did not expect anyone else. He looked around the circles, and though there was no wind, a rustling seemed to run around the rings, as though it had shivered.
"Welcome, Death Eaters," said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years… thirteen years since we last met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday…. We are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"
He put back his terrible faced and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening. Let the show begin, he thought amused.
"I smell guilt," he said. "And the stench of my deceived followers."
A second shiver ran through them.
"You all stand before, able-bodied and ready - such prompt appearance too! - and I ask myself, why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"
No one dared move or speak except Wormtail, who was on the ground still sobbing over his bleeding arm.
Wait for it, Voldemort told himself.
"And I answer myself, they must have believed me broken, gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment….
"And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?
Wait for it….
"And I answer myself, perhaps they believed that Albus Dumbledore, that champion of Mudbloods, could vanquish even Lord Voldemort… perhaps they pay allegiance to him now?"
At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort pretended not to notice, as he was fully enjoying playing along.
Wait for it….
"It is a disappointment that some of you may have even entertained such thoughts… I confess myself disappointed…"
One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the inner circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.
"Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"
Ah, so predictable.
Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand in glee.
"Crucio!"
Multiple reddish brownish jets emanated from Voldemort's wand, striking the death eater in front of him and several in the white circle also on their knees. The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked; Harry was sure the sound must carry to the houses around…. Let the police come, someone, anyone… but stopped that train of thought almost instantly. No, he thought, that's not how it works, they never came when Dudley's gang tried to kill me, and even if they did now it would just mean more deaths. No, like always it's up to me to survive… but then this has to be it, he felt with an even larger surge of terror. Why should I live anyways? He jerked himself out of his thoughts back to Voldemort's rantings, who had by now finished with the inner circle death eater who was apparently Avery, had just given Wormtail a silver hand, and was now focused on that slimy git Lucius.
Voldemort would have made a good healer, he thought idly, and, even through the astounding levels of terror he was experiencing, the image of a Voldemort healer, dressed as Madam Pomfrey came into his mind, comforting a first year with a bruised knee; he hastily pushed that nauseous image out of his mind.
"- ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?" said Voldemort lazily, and Mr. Malfoy stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius… You have disappointed me…. I expect more faithful service in the future."
"Of course, my Lord, of course…. You are merciful, thank you…."
Voldemort moved on, and stopped, staring a space - large enough for two people - that separated Malfoy and the next man.
"The Lestranges should stand here," said Voldemort quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban rather than renounce me… When Azkaban is broken open, they will be rewarded beyond their dreams… especially dear Bella, my protege…. The dementors will join us… they are our natural allies… we will recall the banished giants… I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear…. Eventually, we must also expand our horizons beyond Britain… our numbers will soon surpass those of old….
He continued around the inner circle, briefly addressing people and spaces where there should be some. While some of the name, such as Goyle, Nott, and others were familiar, there were others he had never heard of before.
Finally Voldemort reached the last and largest gap in the inner circle.
"And here we have six missing Death Eaters… three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return… he will pay. One, who I believed has left me forever… he will be killed, of course… and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already re-entered my service.
The Death Eaters stirred, and Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.
"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight….
"Yes," said Voldemort, a grin curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle flashed in Harry's direction. "Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go as far as to call him my guest of honor."
Lucius took what seemed to Harry Voldemort's bait, and begged to know how this could have happened. Voldemort gladly complied.
"Ah what a story it is, Lucius," said Voldemort. "And it begins - and ends - with my young friend here."
"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" Voldemort said softly, staring at Harry as his scar began to burn so fiercely that he almost screamed in agony. Voldemort's red eyes flashed with barely constrained rage. Voldemort explained how his mother protected him and that he could touch him now. When Voldemort did, Harry thought his head would burst with the pain. He groaned as Voldemort laughed softly in his ear, and continued addressing the Death Eaters with what Harry grudgingly admitted to himself was a masterfully told tale.
Voldemort spoke of his not-so complete death, his years in exile and how he survived. He spoke of finding Quirrel and coming to Hogwarts, and How Harry thwarted him again… then he spoke of Wormtail's arrival, his one faithful death eater, and finally of the Triwizard Cup and his resurrection.
"- and here he is… the boy the world all believes was my downfall…."
Voldemort turned to face Harry slowly with a malevolent smirk on his face. He raised his wand and yelled, "Crucio!"
It was pain beyond anything Harry had yet experienced; his bones were on fire, he felt like his head was splitting open again… he wanted it to end…
And then, in what was two minutes but felt like two hours it was gone. He was hanging limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone, looking up into those bright red eyes through a kind of mist.
"And now I will address the consequences for your disloyalty and apparent deception," Voldemort hissed. The Death Eaters trembled, and Voldemort laughed.
"Oh fear not, my friends, for it is not you who is responsible for being deceived… neither was it Dumbledore who kept you away all these years… It was Potter," he spat with such vehemence that several Death Eaters actually stepped back. "He is responsible for this and much more… and tonight I will prove to you that he is nothing compared to me, and he will be punished for standing in my way. Your prophecy will matter nothing with your death…"
The confusion on Harry's face must have shown through, as Voldemort sneered, "So he never told you? Of course, that meddling old fool wouldn't… he did, after all, lock you away with your relatives…"
The shock must also have shown on his face as Voldemort answered his unspoken question, "Oh I know all about that, Harry. I was your professor, and going through your mind was ridiculously easy. The Boy Who Lived, locked away with muggles…" he drawled out as the Death Eaters sniggered. "And yet you still came for the stone at the end of your first year… such a hero…."
Harry squirmed as Voldemort drew closer. "Do you know what Fiendfyre is, Harry?" Voldemort asked softly. Harry's blood ran cold. "Of course you do, I'm sure your dear Professor Moody explained it," Voldemort chuckled, confusing the already terrified Harry. "Fiendfyre, only able to be directed and contained by the strongest wizards, and even Salazar himself could not force Fiendfyre to submit to his will… but see, Harry, I am the greatest of all wizards, and my hate is far stronger than your precious love," he spat. "Also, it should be noted that Fiendfyre never leaves someone alive, and always kills them before the intense pain can register. However…"
From within his robes he produced a small knife. Channeling hate Harry could literally feel, it suddenly glowed a blindingly white color, the faces of fiery creatures shifting across the blade.
Harry struggled harder. "Now, now" Voldemort crooned, "actions have consequences little hero…"
Four Thick straps suddenly snapped out from Voldemort's robes, cutting the ropes; he was dragged forward to Voldemort and hung spread-eagled facing away from him.
"You should be honored, "Voldemort said gleefully. "No one else has had or will have such a fate!" Harry struggled and Voldemort lazily waved his hand. The bands around his wrists and ankles smoked as tiny red and black sparks erupted from them. Harry screamed as they shredded and ate away at his flesh. Voldemort cackled at Harry and started carving on his back; the knife tore through his shirt and into his flesh. Immediately the pain increased a hundred-fold; it made the cruciatus feel like a tickling charm… he couldn't even scream from the torture… he wanted to die… why live anyways… he would see his parents again…. That thought kept him sane through the agony. He convulsed and sobbed but focused on his parents.
Oddly enough, he actually felt a darkness leave his soul upon contact with the knife, And even through all this felt strangely refreshed.
After several minutes Voldemort finished and surveyed his handiwork; across Harry's back was carved the word HERO almost to the bone, the Fiendfyre having turned the area a dark red and black….
Voldemort obviously had not had such fun in decades.
"There, now you are a real hero Potter," he whispered in his ear. Looking into Harry's eyes he was surprised to see sanity, and, with a jolt of rage rippling across his face, defiance still in his eyes. Harry looked back hazily at Voldemort, the Death Eaters' laughter ringing in his ears. His back wasn't bleeding, the blood having been consumed by the Fiendfyre.
"Now, Harry, we will duel, and prove to all here who is stronger."
Voldemort had his robes drop Harry and he walked about twenty feet away. Throwing Harry's wand in the middle he said softly, "fetch, doggie." Then he mocked Harry, saying, "You will die, Harry, and the prophecy will not matter anymore… Your friends will die after I kill you, just as I killed your parents… and your precious, useless love for them won't stop me! Well, Potter? Ready to face your failure? Perhaps I shall let you live just so you can watch your blood-traitor friends, the mudblood and your precious godfather die before you…."
This was Voldemort's biggest mistake.
Hearing these words, suddenly the fire inside Harry roared back to life. Images of his parents and Cedric flashed before his eyes… they died for me, he reminded himself. If love means anything I will honor that and avenge them as best I can. Then images of his friends and Sirius flashed before his eyes, everyone he ever cared about. He replayed Voldemort's words in his head. NO, he thought, I will not fail. Righteous anger and love overcame all else. The aches and pains faded away, leaving him with a grim sense of purpose and defiance. If he was going to die it wouldn't be like this, and as long as he lived he would defy this bastard… out of that love that Voldemort kept mentioning, especially if it pissed him off….
He blocked out the pain with his mind, outstretching his hand. His wand skittered into his grasp and, miraculously, he slowly staggered to his feet. The wand was slippery from the blood emanating from his wrist, but it didn't even slip.
Curiously Harry also noticed that he could roughly sense where the Death Eaters were, even the ones behind him, by virtue of his scar. Or perhaps I'm suddenly sensing their dark marks, he mused briefly. He could also sense the evil within the knife as well. He had no time to dwell on this though, as Voldemort started speaking again.
"Have it your way then," he rasped in a voice raw from screaming.
"We bow to each other, Harry," said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snake-like face upturned to Harry. "Come on, the niceties must be observed… Dumbledore would like you to show manners…. Bow to death, Harry…."
The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemort's lipless mouth was smiling. Harry did not bow. He would never bow to the man that killed the people he loved. He would honor their memories.
"Perhaps a little encouragement? Imperio!"
And Harry felt, for the third time in his life, the sensation that his mind had been wiped of all thought… Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as though he were floating, dreaming… just bow to him… bow… just bow…
I will NEVER bow!, said a far, far stronger voice in his head, one he could almost say was infinitely stronger, I love my family… never will I let him win…
Just do it….
I will not….
Do i-
"NO, NEVER!" Harry roared.
These words burst from Harry's mouth; they echoed through the graveyard, and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over him - back rushed all the pains from the torture, but Harry's mind ruthlessly suppressed them… he would face this horror, protect those close to him….
"Very well, then," Voldemort snarled, "if you won't bow then you will DIE!"
Faster than thought Voldemort raised his wand; however, Harry also moved faster than the eye could see… overcome by the power thrumming through his body by the power of his love, he mirrored Voldemort… as the bastard yelled, "Avada Kedavra!" Harry thought, "Die, bitch!".
A brilliant golden bolt of lightning shot from his wand, like nothing he had ever seen before, a response to what he had focused all his power into… the bolt shot out and met the green light that is death in midair, between them….
The impact sent a shockwave that blasted graves and death eaters alike back through the air… suddenly Harry's wand was vibrating as an electric charge was surging through it; his hand seized up around it; he couldn't have released it if he'd wanted to - and a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, one side green and the other a brilliant gold… where they met in the middle was a roiling white mass of pure energy. Harry saw that Voldemort too was gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating.
And then, inexplicably, the thread connecting the them splintered; though the wands remained connected, a thousand more beam arced high over Harry and Voldemort, crisscrossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden and green, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now….
"Do nothing!" Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, and Harry saw he too was astonished by what was happening, saw that he fought to break the connection; Harry held on tighter, and it remained unbroken. "Do nothing unless I command you!" Voldemort shouted to the Death Eaters.
And then phoenix song, something Harry had only heard once before, came from every thread of the cage.
It was the sound of hope, the most beautiful and welcome thing he had ever heard… he felt the song inside him as well as around him too… it strengthened his resolve, while Voldemort grimaced… some of the Death Eaters were covering their ears in pain… and it was almost as though a friend were speaking in his ear… or perhaps from his wand….
Don't break the connection.
I know, Harry told the music, I know I mustn't… but no sooner had he thought it than naturally, it became much harder to accomplish. His wand vibrated more than ever… and suddenly the bead of energy began to slide slowly and steadily his way… towards him, and away from Voldemort… his wand shuddered angrily.
As it drew closer to his wand- tip, the wood beneath his fingers grew so hot he feared it would burst into flame. The closer it got the harder Harry's wand vibrated; he was sure his wand would not survive contact with it; it surely would shatter….
Pour your love into it! A voice yelled quite clearly into Harry's mind. Use your willpower! All your love, your desire to protect and avenge those you care about… or does your love mean nothing, the voice challenged. He filled his mind with the phoenix song.
Harry snarled, and concentrated all his will to love… he poured out his soul like a raging river through his wand. Abruptly the bead stopped as if it had slammed into a wall… and slowly but surely it rolled backward the other way… now it was Voldemort's wand vibrating extra hard now… Voldemort who looked astonished, and almost fearful….
Unbeknownst to Harry, Voldemort had also heard a voice urging him to pour all his hatred into the connection… but Harry's will was stronger…
The bead now just a few inches from Voldemort's wand- tip, Harry concentrated like he never had before in his life… he didn't know what it might achieve, but his instincts, magical instincts, that had kept him alive all these years urged him to do so; the bead trembled for a moment… and then it connected….
At once, Voldemort's wand began to emit his past spells and actions… screams of pain, a smoky hand flew from its tip… and then something much larger began to blossom from it; Cedric Diggory.
Harry nearly dropped his wand in shock, but instinct kept him holding on. The form of Cedric Diggory surveyed the situation and spoke.
"Hold on, Harry," it said in an echoey voice.
Harry looked at Voldemort, who was still shocked… he heard the frightened yells of the Death Eaters.
The sequence continued… an old man, Bertha Jorkins also emerged and shouted words of encouragement to him… the old man asked the frightened Death Eaters who won the rugby championship this year, and one of them yelled out the answer before getting clocked on the head by another. The shadowy figures began to pace around the inner walls of the golden cage, insulting Voldemort.
And now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemort's wand… and Harry knew who it would be… he knew from the moment Cedric had emerged, knew, because the woman appearing was one he had thought of more than any other tonight….
His mother emerged, told him it was all right, and his father was coming… words Harry had wanted to hear all his life… to be told it was alright, be his mother… Harry's arms were shaking madly now.
And his father came as well, he heard them tell him what to do, how they would linger for a moment and give him time… he had to get to the portkey… and Cedric's request to take his body back….
"I will," said Harry, his face screwed up with the effort of holding the wand. He was barely standing, he could barely keep away all the effects of the night's events….
And then his parents both said, "I love you, Harry. Always remember that."
Harry felt as if his heart would explode right them from emotion… his parents loved him… and suddenly he had the energy to continue, to actually keep going for just a little longer.
"Do it now," whispered his father's voice, "be ready… do it now…."
"NOW!" Harry yelled; he couldn't have held on longer anyways - he pulled his wand upward with almighty wrench, and the connection broke; the cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died - but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear - they closed in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze -
Harry quickly located the portkey and Cedric, but he was too tired to make it… One of the Death Eaters disregarded Voldemort's orders, firing a bone-breaker at him(not that Harry could tell)… Harry sidestepped, and it hit a gravestone, sending bits of rock into the air….
In a daze from the rapidly fading high of whatever had kept him going, Harry imagined the shrapnel turning into razor blades and ending it at the Death Eater… he waved his wand unconsciously and his magic complied with the intent, the blades shredding the shocked Death Eater; too tired to care, Harry sank to his knees.
With the last of his strength and that inner phoenix song he had felt before in him, Harry outstretched his hands; the cup and Cedric's body came flying into them, just as Voldemort emerged from the dissipating cloud of his victims with a curse on his lips, his wand-tip glowing green…
He heard Voldemort's scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked - it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and color, and Cedric along with him… they were going back.
He felt himself slam flat into the ground; his face was pressed into grass; its smell filled his nostrils… he did not move. All the aches and sores from the past few hours slammed back into him, nearly knocking him out in an instant… but he had to hang on, had to warn Dumbledore that He had returned. Tears filled his eyes and he clutched Cedric's hand harder… his voice too torn and broken to cry out. He fought with himself to hang on, waiting for Dumbledore to arrive, for anything really to happen…
A torrent of sound made its way through the haze; there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams…. He remained where he was, face screwed tightly… he could feel the blood from his wounds seeping into the grass and outwards….
Then a pair of hands seized him gently and turned him over.
"Harry! Harry!"
He opened his eyes at the sound of the one voice he was waiting for.
Albus Dumbledore was crouched over him. His normally twinkling eyes practically oozed concern. The dark shadows of people pressed in around him, pushing nearer… the ground reverberated with their footsteps… but he only focused on one.
"He's back," rasped Harry, concentrating with all his might to get the message across. "He's back. Voldemort."
The last thought that flitted across his mind before he was claimed by sleep was that he had a hell of a lot of questions that Dumbledore had to answer for.
Voldemort screamed in uncontrollable rage as the killing curse passed through thin air, just where that insufferable boy had been moments ago; the nearest tombstones shattered from the raw fury emanating from him in magical waves. After a few moments, he sprung his eyes open again and turned slowly to face his Death Eaters.
"It seems," he hissed in a silky voice that terrified his quivering minions far more than if he had shouted, "That the consequences of your apparent disloyalty must be paid after all."
It was a very long night for the Death Eaters.
End- of chapter notes: the next chapter will be the last one to have any sizeable chunks of canon in it, and I apologize for all that is in this chapter but this section and transition is absolutely essential to the rest of the story, and anyways the next one won't have as many similarities.
Wow, coming back to this I've realized just how bad my writing is. I think I'll keep the writing purposefully juvenile in this story, the tone is quite different than its sequel main.
The robe idea I got from the movies, and I just thought it would be pretty cool to integrate it into my book version.
You might notice Harry uses a variant of occlumency in this story. Oh, and some wandless magic is in here as well.
Harry is relieved of his horcrux, and in doing so gains the ability to sense dark magical imprints upon people and objects, an ability developed by being hit by the killing curse but previously blocked by the horcrux. The reason why the Fiendfyre destroyed the horcrux and the basilisk venom did not will be explained by Dumbledore in chapter 3, so please don't chew my face off about it just yet!
I really, really hate having so many chunks of pieces of the book in here, even if I changed them as much as I could. Rest assured though, this is not gonna be canon with a slightly altered story. No, I'm gonna take it my own direction, and of course we are going to see a great deal of Sirius and Dumbledore later on. Also, this world is largely the same universe as in canon, so horcruxes and all the other FACTS of the magical world remain the same as in the later books. The rest of the universe... well, let's just say this universe is crazy.
"Die, Bitch!" is now the incantation for Harry's new spell. I do plan on incantations being tied to all spells as they are created in this world to be activated, and the wizarding version of Latin being used like how in reality Latin is used to name every species of animal. But obviously wand movements and incantations don't always apply if you have enough intent, as that's what magic really is about at its core: willing something to happen. It's just vastly easier having the incantation tied in, since the overwhelming majority of witches and wizards don't have the power to will the spell without the movement and words(Dumbledore, harry and Voldemort do so in canon).
Thanks for reading this chapter, the next Chapter will be Titled: Chapter 2: …Makes You Stronger