Chapter One

Right Back to the Beginning

Book One

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Dedicated to Brooke Gibbon, for her always being there

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The moon shone brightly in the sky, illuminating the grounds, and the tips of the trees. Rain poured lightly down, making noise as it hit the grass. The sky was as black as a black hole. There were no stars in the sky tonight.

Just then, the moon disappeared, and everything was thrown into darkness.

Balls of what looked to be colored fire, shot in every possible direction, all were different colors. Some were purple, yellow, and green.

A shadow moved quickly through the woods, dodging curses, trees, and shrubs. Yellow eyes shone brightly in the dark. Long white claws, made tracks in the dirt. Black fur was barely seen in the darkness. Fangs went barely past the creatures bottom lip, blood stained the usual white teeth.

Figures in black cloaks trudged through the forest, following the deep prints made in the dirt. They sent curses off in every direction, hoping to catch their prey. Some of their curses hit unsuspecting birds, which fell to the ground, unmoving; others hit trees, leaving dents in their trunks.

The creature moved as fast as it could, trying to get away from its stalkers. As it run into a clearing, a red curse shot through the bushes and hit the weary creature. The monster fell to the ground.

As the moonlight came back, it shown on the clearing, there was nothing there anymore. There was no trace of the creature, or the men who had been following it.

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"We bow to each other. Harry," said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his

snakelike face upturned to Harry. "Come, the niceties must be observed. . . . Dumbledore would like you to show manners. . . . Bow to death, Harry. ..."

The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemorts lipless mouth was smiling. Harry did not bow. He was not going to let Voldemort play with him before killing him ... he was not going to give him that satisfaction. . . .

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"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 onehanded 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 snakes with slits for nostrils . . .

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

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Harry felt his feet slam into the ground; his injured leg gave way, and he fell forward.

His hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. He raised his head.

"Where are we?" he said.

Cedric shook his head. He got up, pulled Harry to his feet, and they looked

around.

They had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; they had obviously traveled miles - perhaps hundreds of miles - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone.

They were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black

outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right. A hill

rose above them to their left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old

house on the hillside.

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Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits.

He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the

cauldron.

The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all

directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger

from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.

"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master. "

He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger.

He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.

Harry realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened - he

closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that

pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the

dagger too.

He heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished

panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron.

Harry couldn't stand to look . . . but the potion had turned a burning red; the light

of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids. . . .

Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Not until Harry felt Wormtail's

anguished breath on his face did he realize that Wormtail was right in front of him.

"B-blood of the enemy . . . forcibly taken... you will… resurrect your foe."

Harry could do nothing to prevent it; he was tied too tightly... Squinting down,

struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger

shaking in Wormtails remaining hand.

He felt its point penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes.

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From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say. "Kill the spare."

A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!"

A blast of green light blazed through Harry's eyelids, and he heard something

heavy fall to the ground beside him; the pain in his scar reached such a pitch that

he retched, and then it diminished; terrified of what he was about to see, he opened

his stinging eyes.

Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside him. He was dead.

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Fifteen year old Harry Potter woke up with a start. He looked around, his vision was unclear. He could barely see anything. He grabbed his glasses from his night table which was right beside his bed.

Harry James Potter had jet black hair that almost reached his shoulders, his eyes were emerald green. They had an unusual glint to them. He wore black spectacles. Harry's skin was pale, his lips were beginning to get dry, and the ends of his bangs were curly. Also, showing bright at ever against his white skin was a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

Harry got out of bed, it was hard seeing as he was shaking uncontrollably. He was about the right size for his age; He was as tall as his bestfriend, Hermione Granger. Harry was also really skinny.

Harry sat down in his chair, beside his desk. He turned his emerald eyes to look at his alarm clock; it was 9:00 A.M. It was pretty late.

Harry's mind kept going back to Voldemort. Voldemort had been laying low for the past month. After getting his body, Harry had always thought that the dark lord would send his servants out to kill, and maim everywhere… He guessed, seeing as the ministry were completely ignoring Voldemort's return, he was probably not wanting to draw attention to himself.

It made Harry wonder what Voldemort had up his sleeve. He had to have something extremely huge for him to not have attacked Harry yet. He suspected he was bidding his time, planning carefully; the dark lord had just got his body back, so he guessed that Voldemort didn't want to loose it so quickly.

Harry wondered if Dumbledore knew what Voldemort was up to… He wished that the Ministry believed him so that they would have more help. Most of the light wizards were with the Ministry, and they were Aurors. And the ones that did believe him weren't enough. Harry knew why the Minister out right refused to believe him, it was easier to believe that Harry was losing his mind, then admitting that the Dark Lord was really alive, and that he had been brought back right from under the Ministries nose.

Harry bet if the Minister saw achual proof that Voldemort was alive again, he would just shrug it off, thinking it was a practical joke.

Also, the fools from the Daily Prophet, a wizardring newspaper, were printing articles about Harry and Dumbledore, mostly that they were both loosing their marbles, anyone who achually believed the Daily Prophet were idiots.

Over the summer, Harry had gotten a lot of hate mail; some were telling him that he should see a healer, a wizardrying doctor. Some of the letters were written by people who said they believe him, but there weren't many. Some of the letters had even contained curses. After Harry had opened a letter that had a thick goo that went all over his fingers, making them sprout blisters, he had stopped reading them. Harry had even gotten a few howlers which angered his relatives.

Harry had been living with his Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin for fourteen years, right after Voldemort had sent out to destroy him.

The Dark Lord had killed his mother and father that night, and then tried to kill him, but the curse had rebound right back at Voldemort.

Voldemort then had been ripped from his body and was forced to hide, and then he got his body back last year, at the end of the year. Wormtail, the man that had betrayed Harry's parents, who told the dark lord where the Potter's were, had done a ritual to bring Voldemort back.

Harry sighed, he wished he had got to know his parents, but he never did. They were gone, and after that night, Harry was sent to live with the Dursleys.

Harry got up, wanting to get some summer homework done. He had a few vials of potion that he had to study and write down what he observed. They sat on his bednight table.

As Harry picked up one of the vials. Suddenly, his scar burst in pain, and he fell to the ground, both hands clutching his forehead. He dropped the vial, and also hit the other vials that were sitting on his desk, they fell to the ground, making a small puddle, the glasses that had broken disappeared.

Harry felt like his head would explode; the pain from his scar was becoming unbearable. Harry then fell sideways, landing in the puddle that his potions had caused. Harry let the darkness engulf him.

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Later that day, Harry was taken away from Private Drive, it not being safe anymore. Harry was unaware of what he would find out, something that would change his life forever.

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(A/N) I know short, sorry, everytime I tried making it bigger, it began to get weird. Lol, but hope you enjoy.

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