disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh, Harry Potter, or any of their characters.
The ritual gone wrong and a "wizard" was brought forth from a parallel dimension, now, the newly revived Dark Lord wield power as ancient as time. And Magician of Black Chaos was torn between his bound duty as a Dueling Spirit and what little humanity he still remembered as a man.
.
.
Ch0. Prologue
.
.
Two ominous golden lamps stood beside the altar, a large black cauldron before them, where Lord Voldemort awaited.
Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory were bound tightly side by side to the cold marble headstone, unable to move, unable to run. They watched with dreaded eyes as Peter Pettigrew work the dark magic to resurrect his Master.
Bone of the father, unknowingly given…
The ghastly wind echoed within the cemetery, like the agonizing cries of broken souls. The rubies adorned the lamps gleamed, reflecting in the dim flickering of candle light, and deep purple smoke wavered.
Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed…
Wormtail severed his arm, sweat dripping from his forehead.
The shadows gathered, dancing at the corners in glee. The wizard didn't know he was trespassing in where best left unexplored, best left untouched.
The soul of a dark wielder, the shadows cried, gave it to us!
Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken…
Holding pathetically onto his amputated limb, Wormtail suppressed his broken sobs to aim his wand at Harry. A blinding flash of light. To maim, or perhaps, to kill?
A cry of determination, Cedric pushed his captured companion to the side, using his larger frame to shield his friend from harm. Green eyes widened in shock and horror, but Harry can only helplessly watch as the blast hit, Cedric dropping and unmoving.
The soul of a light wielder, the shadows cried, gave it to us!
Wormtail stopped on his track and turned in confusion, something had gone wrong.
All lights around the graveyard died, and a lone pale blue flame flickered to life upon the altar. Then twin beams of light blasted forth, one black, one white. Peter Pettigrew was struck in the chest with a gasp and Cedric Diggory was struck on the back, their souls taken as sacrifices for a ritual darker than any recorded on modern magic.
Harry was the only other witness as a man descended from the shades, long black hair bellowing in the wind. He was tall and slender with a very thin waist that was made more prominent due to his form-fitting outfit. His flesh so pale and tinged blue, more sickly than that of a corpse, and he was dressed from head-to-toe in dark leather, with belts and magenta stripes covering his chest and arms and legs. He landed kneeling before the infant-like Lord Voldemort, bowing low, before opening his eyes. Irises red, the color of freshly spilled blood; his pupils are sinisterly golden, glowing; and sclera the wrong shade of yellow.
A gloved hand was held up, and a shining turquoise ankh manifested hovering upon his palm, radiating brilliant white light.
"Monster Reborn," the man said, "to raise the dead."
And Harry Potter watched on in horror as Lord Voldemort was rebirth.
.
.
.