This story starts at the end of chapter 34 of GOF. Harry has just been hit by the Cruciatus cures for the first time. I don't own anything.

Chapter 1

The bindings that held him were the only things left supporting his deadened weight after being hit with the Cruciatus. Post tremors racked his aching body as the glistening read orbs that were his enemies eyes drifted closer. As though through a tunnel he could hear the sadistic laughs of the Death Eater's who had made a perfect circle around the Dark Lord and himself.

"Let's have some fun, shall we?" hissed a voice near his ear.

A cold spindly hand snapped out and grabbed him by the back of the neck and Harry was hoisted into the air just as the Death Eaters and Cedric's body were summoned together with a wave of Tom's hand. The Dark Lord didn't even say accio, as the portkey flew into his outstretched hand, and all 33 of them were whisked away with the feeling of a tug on their navel.

Harry's dread increased tenfold when he realized what was happening. They were going back to Hogwarts. All of them. A part of his mind registered that maybe this could be considered a good thing, which should make him feel safer by being so close to the place he calls home. But he couldn't. Harry could only think of the danger he was putting everyone in.

The portkey started to slow down and Harry tried to brace himself for the awaiting impact, but there was little he could do with the ropes around him.

The Dark Lord's hands released him just in time for the man to land gracefully, while Cedric and Harry were thrown across the clearing in front of the stands. The air around them felt heavier and colder than when the contestants first entered the maze. Harry started to wonder if Voldemort is changing the temperature as a scare tactic before the 14 year old decided he just didn't care.

Dead silence met their arrival, and Harry couldn't blame them for their inability to speak. What would you do if a previously dead Dark Lord and his lackeys showed up with one dead teen and another tied up one?

The Gryffindor couldn't bring himself to move, so he let his body go limp once more. The pain was so intense that the boy's head pounded in time with his wayward heart. His heart pumped so loudly that for several long moments Harry was sure that everyone else could hear it just as well as he could.

Using the shocked silence Harry looked around in search of his friends. They all sat still in the stricken silence. Mrs. Weasley's eyes showed only worry as she gazed down upon where he lay. Tears brim in her eyes and Harry's aching heart warms at the sight. Hermione had a similar expression on her face, and horror filled sobs gasp through her lips. Standing next to her is Ron and a fierce hatred burned in his eyes, and Dumbledore just looked old. In that moment he looked all of his 150 years as his face crinkles into a look of deep sadness and anger, but no surprise shows on his wise face. Harry quickly came to the conclusion that the old man knew this was going to happen. A deep anger rose inside of the boy as he gazed up at his mentor, only to be quickly beaten down by the pain in his limbs.

Movement out of the corner of his eyes drew his attention away from the spectators. Voldemort had put up a shield, a wide dome like structure that glowed dark red in the night air.

Now that the shield was up, the Dark Lord began to pace in front of the Boy-Who-Lived's prone body. After several long moments of charged silence, the Dark Lord began to speak in a voice that was filled with malicious glee. He spoke in the dead silence and Harry did his best to tune him out. He didn't want to spend his last few moments alive listening to the Dark Lord gloat.

It wasn't until hands seized him that Harry paid attention to his surroundings. Two cloaked figures pulled him to his knees in an awkward kneel. A hand grabbed his hair and ripped his head back roughly. Harry was being forced to look the Dark Lord in the eyes.

"Harry!" several voices screamed as the teen was presented to Voldemort.

"You see ladies and gentlemen, your precious Boy-Who-Lived, your hero, and your savior is bowing down before me. Young Harry has taken the . . . unhealthy . . . path and tried to spite me. Not that it means anything for my plans, no. He will join his mother soon. His mudblood mother is the only thing that has prevented me from killing him earlier. Love. Love is what saved him from my curse, but do you see love saving him now? No, even Dumbledork knows I cannot be beaten," his voice carried through the stands with a hypnotizing hiss.

"But Lord Voldemort will always be a step ahead of the Light. I infiltrated Hogwarts staff and had one of my loyal Death Eaters place Harry Potter's name into the Goblet of Fire. I had them make sure Potter would reach the cup first. Victor Krum was placed under the Imperius and instructed to torture Cedric Diggory, but alas Potter and his saving people thing had to step in and save the day before Krum permanently harmed the boy. Potter and the Hufflepuff boy grabbed the cup together to tie for first, and the outcome of that heart touching plan lies before you. Harry Potter is suffering from post Cruciatus Curse tremors, and Diggory is dead.

"It seems that the great Albus Dumbledore has been out smarted," the Dark Lord's voice mocked. "So now let's watch young Mr. Potter get what has been waiting for him, all these years."

Cold ruby eyes locked onto Harry's in an intense stare down, daring him to defy, but he doesn't back down and keeps eyes contact with a mocking glare of his own. He knew he was going to die. It was seconds away, but if he was going to die then he would make it as irritating as possible for the Dark Lord.

"Crucio."

The pain was instantaneous and firm hands held him upright. Harry's eyes closed as he loses himself to the pain. His shrieks barely held in by biting his lower lip. He won't let them hear him scream. Never again with they have that pleasure. He won't beg, before he dies, for the pain to stop, but that doesn't mean no sound escaped his sealed lips. No, for an outsider it sounded like he was being electrocuted; which was probably the best way to describe the pain cutting through his body with sickening ease.

The pain didn't fully stop even after he lifted the curse, and he was left panting on the ground with a bleeding lip. After several long moments, Harry found it in himself to slowly lift his pounding head to meet the Dark Lord's red ones. Irritation shines in them. The Dark Lord had wanted him to scream in front of them, but Harry was going to die defiant like his mother.

"Very well Potter if one Cruciatus Curse isn't enough to make you scream what will 30 do?" It was a rhetorical question that all of his Death Eaters were dying to answer.

Panic and terror strangled him. He could barely keep his sanity in check with one curse, two would be too much and Voldemort knew it. Harry knew that he wouldn't be able to keep his screams in this time, so he wasn't even going to try.

Voldie-Wish-He'd-Just-Go-Moldy motioned for his Death Eaters to raise their wands, and Harry's eyes met the Headmaster's as the red lights flew towards him.

Insanity threatened to encompass him as the 30 curses made contact with his already aching body. The pain was too much. In that moment, the only thing he wanted to do was die. He would rather have never been born than to not have to face this sort of pain. Death would be so much easier. After several long moments under the curse, darkness colored Harry's vision, and no sound penetrated his ears, the pain robbed him of his hearing just moments before.

It felt like a life time later that the flow of magic fueling his pain stopped, but it could only have been seconds. For several timeless moments, he drifted aimlessly on a bed of clouds, floating. He gave himself to the blackness gathering at the edge of his mind, and at that moment everything was so peaceful, so pain free. It was all he could think about. The darkness was so welcoming, he felt as if he were wrapped in a warm blanket in a familiar place.

"Ennervate," a harsh, demanding voice called, summoning him from the darkness, and he had no other choice but to wake up and leave the pain free land.

The stands had fallen silent when the portkey activated, bringing the champion back. Nervous anticipation turned to horror as not one but 33 people materialized. Dead silence met the arrival of 30 cloaked men, but it wasn't the Death Eater's that drew the crowd's attention. No, it was the tall, pale, snake like figure that drew their eyes. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named landed gracefully on Hogwarts grounds, as two teenagers were thrown through the air.

Cedric's lifeless body flopped onto the ground, making many gasp at his glazed unseeing eyes. Harry Potter was half conscious and bound as he fell in an ungraceful heap onto the ground. Sobs were heard around the transfigured Quidditch Pitch as the scene before them sank in.

The Dark Lord's followers made a semicircle facing the crowd, with the Dark Lord, himself, in the middle. You-Know-Who stood tall for all to see as he preached; he explained how young Harry Potter was going to die like his parents, and how Albus Dumbledore had been out smarted by the greatest Dark Lord the world has ever seen. Terror swept through the audience as The Boy-Who-Lived was pulled onto his knees by two masked men. The audacity of the boy shocked many, as he defiantly stared death in the face, waiting for his execution.

"Crucio," the Dark Lord shrieked.

Harry Potter jerked and twisted under the effects of the Unforgivable. Blood dripped down his lip where he had bitten through it to keep the screams in. Noises came from his sealed lips, sounding like a Muggle being electrocuted. Two sets of strong hands held the boy down, as his body spasms out of control, until finally the curse is lifted. Harry was left panting with his head drooped for several long moments. Until intense emerald eyes lifted to meet the crazed ruby ones, and then The Dark Lord spoke the words that would make every person's heart miss a beat.

"Very well Potter if one Cruciatus Curse isn't enough to make you scream what will 30 do?"

The horrified audience could only watch in sickened silence, as the two Death Eaters holding Harry stepped back into the circle and as one lift their wands towards the trembling boy. Terror is easily seen on the fourteen year olds face, and the boy's eyes don't leave the red ones as, simultaneously, the Death Eaters cast the curse that can drive a person insane.

The boy fell onto his back as the curses hit and his reaction would forever be burned into the minds of those watching. Harry Potter's back arched towards the sky as a soundless scream was torn from his lips; his convulsing body displayed for all to see. Blood seeped from his eyes, nose, and ears as the curses racked through his body. His scream to high pitched for anyone to hear, and after the longest 20 seconds, the Wizarding World has ever seen, the Death Eater's lifted the curse, after a hand motion from their Lord.

A twitching Boy-Who-Lived slumped back into the cold earth and became deathly still. Tears ran down most people's faces, as The Dark Lord and his followers cackled in the night air. Aurors begun to arrive and were swarming the stands. Sobs grew in strength and loudness as the emotional level rose, making the air crackle with unseen power.

"You see, my might alone has squashed your precious Boy-Who-Lived. Now, let's see if he's sane enough to say anything about it." He pointed his yew wand at the silent teenager and said, "Ennervate."

The pain of consciousness is too much and he gasped and cried out as his fingers dug into the hard earth. Harry couldn't focus; words and coherent thought were beyond him. Dimly, he became aware that he was still screaming, but he couldn't find his mouth to stop it. I want to die, he begged to God as post Cruciatus tremors made stomach acid seep from his open mouth.

The bliss of unconsciousness faded like a dream, and in its place fire ran ramped in his nerves. His limbs jerk of their own accord, and warm, sticky blood oozed into his mouth. Harry cried out, spluttering, as he choked on his own blood. The ropes still restricted him and he squirmed inside of them until they were magiced off by some unknown source.

He felt vibrations in the ground, his only warning, before he was wrenched into the air by an unseen hand. He screamed in terror and pain, his limbs protesting to the sudden movement.

The contact lasted only a moment before he was sailing through the air. With a dole thud he connected with the damp earth and curled into a protective ball, his knees curled to his chest, and head in his arms. Some part of his mind registered someone laughing nearby, but he couldn't place the sound. There's a fog so thick in his mind that he couldn't even remember who made that sound. More cries were torn from him as hands touch him once more. The hands were cold, and he shivered as they caressed him mockingly. Using what little remained of his strength; he focused on opening his eyes. His vision blurred and swayed as vertigo makes him dizzy. Harry tried to blink it away with little success. The only things he could focus on were haunting red eyes and a flash of green light, before darkness wrapped around him once more.

Hopefully for good.

Fearful silence awaited the boy's awakening. There was no way someone could withstand so much pain. There were people in St. Mungo's that were insane from over exposure to that curse. As the spell took affect, the boy's body flailed and thrashed, and everyone in the stands feared the worst as screams erupted from the skinny fourteen year old. His fingers tore through the rough ground as his body convulsed.

They watched as the teen fought against the bindings around him, his screams reaching extreme highs, before the Dark Lord vanished them.

The boy didn't seem sane enough to open his eyes, or know that he was screaming, and You-Know-Who let out a cackle of mad laughter, as the boy struggled with insanity for several long moments, before seizing him with spindly fingers. The boy's cries turned into fear filled ones as he was thrown forward in front of the stands.

The teen came to a halt with a thud, landing in a mud puddle. He curled into himself, as if to protect himself from further blows. The Dark Lord glided forward, towards the boy after several cackles, and started to pet him like a beloved cat. The boy jerked under his hands and struggled to open his blood covered eyes, as the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named withdrew his pale hand, and stepped back a few paces.

Rasping breaths echoed through the night air, before dole green eyes opened and blinked several times.

Dole green eyes meet triumphant ruby ones.

With a cackle and high pitched shout, a bright flash of green light soared through the air, hitting the boy between the eyes.

The crowd screams as the teen slumps like a puppet with its strings cut, but the boy wasn't the only one to reap the effects of the Killing curse. Time seemed to stand still as a blast of an invisible force blasted back towards its caster. The Dark Lord flew through the air and crumpled to the ground, as the waves of magic washed harmlessly over the occupants in the stands.

Silence fell over the land as the two souls were whisked away.