Chapter 10 – Hogwarts Year 4, part 4
Draco had had the same vision of a creepy graveyard at least once a week since November. Professor Trelawney said that reoccurring visions were "definitely significant", but she didn't know any better than he did about why this one was so important. The graveyard was empty and the gravestones were old, dirty, and neglected. It didn't even seem to be a wizard cemetery. There were no ghosts, no talking statues, and no visitors.
Then the week before the third task, the vision changed. The vision came when Draco was using a standard crystal ball in Divination class. It was in sharper focus, and Draco could see a dark, run-down mansion behind the graveyard and the name on one of the biggest gravestones: Riddle.
Draco still didn't understand what the vision meant, but everything related to Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort was bad, and he had to tell Harry at once. Hermione was sitting next to him, writing her 'vision' of Harry being run over by a truck for their afternoon assignment. "Where is Harry?" he asked her.
"Arthimancy and Ancient Runes," she said. "You don't come in during Ancient Runes, so go to Arthimancy." Harry and Hermione were better at using their time-turners than they were last year, but they still confused Draco a lot about which classes they attend in which order.
"I have a better idea. Can you tell Harry at …" Draco looked at the classroom clock, "…2:08 in Arthimancy that I am having a very important vision in Divination and he should come and hear about it so we can decide whether to tell his father."
"OK," Hermione said. There was a loud knock at the trap door to the Divination room, and Harry-from-Arthimancy came in. Sometimes time-turners could be useful.
Harry nodded in Professor Trelawney's direction, and she pretended not to be surprised by his sudden appearance. She told Lavender Brown that she had Seen that Harry Malfoy would here to consult with his friends before suffering his tragic death later that evening. Hermione still complained that Professor Trelawney was a fraud, but Draco appreciated her as a great showman.
"What happened?" Harry asked as he sat down on a fluffy cushion next to Draco. "Hermione said that you wanted me to come now. I sent an owl to my father to meet us here."
"Why did you do that?" Draco asked.
"Because Hermione told me to."
Lucius Malfoy made his grand entrance through a door that Draco had never noticed before. Of course, Mr. Malfoy was too dignified to use the trap door like everyone else. He was followed by a short, young wizard in shabby gray Ministry Seer robes. The Seer did not look like the sort of important Ministry of Magic official that Mr. Malfoy would know; he had long dreadlocks and a straggly goatee, and he wore blue-tinted John-Lennon-style glasses, wooden beads around his neck, and woven sandals. He smiled at everyone now staring at him, and he said grandly: "Peace be with you, friends."
"Did Hermione tell you to ask your father to bring along a weirdo hippie Seer?" Draco asked Harry. The weirdo hippie Seer heard that and smiled in an even more maniacal way. Draco had the dreadful premonition that he was going to see a lot of this new guy.
Mr. Malfoy looked atypically excited about his visit to the fourth-year Divination class. He greeted Professor Trelawney nearly respectfully and he allowed her to pretend to know what he was doing there, and then he asked for the Westphalian crystal ball amplifier and projector. Draco was as curious as Professor Trelawney was about what was going on. The weirdo hippie Seer picked out the devices he wanted from Professor Trelawney's dusty collection. Mr. Malfoy beckoned for Harry, Hermione, and Draco to follow, and he led them through the never-used door to a small, unused classroom.
"Hey, Draco, help me set this up," the hippie Seer said. "You're going to have to get used to using things like this." He was rude, his hair smelled, his clothes under his robes looked like they were in even worse condition than his Ministry outer robe, and he was going to be Draco's Divination mentor. Draco knew it, and the Seer knew that he knew it, too. Life sucked sometimes.
"This is Irwin Jones," Mr. Malfoy said. "The Minister of Magic said that he was the best of the Ministry's Divination team. He appeared when I got Harry's owl and said that he would assist us."
Irwin told Draco the names of everything as he put them in place, and Draco didn't remember a single one of the names. He did what the Seer told him to do, and everything was soon ready.
"Draco, you sit at the head of the table, Lord Malfoy to the right" (the Malfoys did not use any of their noble titles and Lucius Malfoy would never be addressed as 'Lord'), "Miss Granger next to Lord Malfoy, then me at the foot of the table, and the Boy Who Lived on Draco's left." Irwin seemed to enjoy being able to call people whatever he wanted. No one complained. They obediently took the seat Irwin designated.
Draco asked, "Now what?"
Irwin waved his hand impatiently. "See, envision, prophesy, divine us something. Let's see your raw technique."
"But I don't know how to use all this special equipment," Draco protested. Five minutes ago, he didn't even know that it was possible to project visions to people without any natural skill in Divination. Irwin didn't give him any helpful hints – some teacher he was going to be – so Draco began.
The large crystal ball in front of them became unfogged and Draco saw the creepy graveyard, as he had just seen it in class. The others around the table also looked into the ball and saw it, too. Cool, all the special equipment worked. Draco focused on the big, dirty tombstone and the crystal ball showed the inscription to everyone.
"It's the Riddle family plot in Little Hangleton. I've seen it," Mr. Malfoy said. "What else do you see, Draco?"
"Nothing, sir," Draco said, and Irwin scoffed very loudly and theatrically.
"You're not trying hard enough," Irwin said. "What's your mantra?"
"What's a mantra?"
"Your focal image? Your escape route?"
"None, nothing, I don't know," Draco said. "We haven't gotten that far in Divination class. Sorry." Irwin Jones must think he was an idiot. Draco should have read the Divination textbooks and tried to actually learn the subject properly instead of just relying on his natural Seer talents. The vision faded as Draco thought more about his failure, especially in front of Harry and Mr. Malfoy.
Irwin knew what was happening, and he quickly said, "You need proper training, but you must be very, very good to get anything at all." He was a clever Seer; how did he know that Draco could be completely won over by any praise, no matter how faint? Irwin said some soft incantation and the vision's lighting was better, but it was still fading. He said, "Draco, think of the letter A and summon the vision again. Put your left hand on the table. Sit up straight. Cross your ankles under the table. Stop straightening your glasses and keep your left hand on the table like I told you. Breathe through your nose. Are you thinking of the letter A? I can tell that you aren't. Concentrate. Aaaaaaaaaay."
Draco followed all the instructions as well as he could, and the vision came back, brighter and crisper. There was now a huge black cauldron in the graveyard. Someone was making a potion in a bathtub-sized cauldron in a graveyard in the Riddle family plot. What else? Draco thought of the letter A and breathed through his nose and kept his left hand on the table and there were about a dozen men in black cloaks in the graveyard forming a big circle around the cauldron.
"Death Eaters," Harry said in a low voice. "Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle—"
"We see them," Mr. Malfoy said sharply. "Draco, show us more. What is inside the cauldron. When is this happening?"
Irwin said, "Keep your ankles crossed and tap your right foot. You're doing good, kid, doing good."
But it was over. Just as the vision was fading, a new person appeared: Peter Pettigrew. He was also wearing a black cloak, but his hood was down and his face was clearly exposed. He looked like he needed a good shave and a bath, and he looked very happy.
Draco said, "That can't be right, can it? Did I do something wrong, Mr. Jones? I think I was tapping my left foot, not my right. Sorry."
Mr. Malfoy said, "Jones, do a reading for Peter Pettigrew. He should be in Albania."
"Let Draco," Irwin said. He was smiling as if everything was going perfectly well. There were Death Eaters in Draco's vision, including a man who had threatened to kill Draco. It was scary.
Draco concentrated on Peter Pettigrew and summoned a vision of his current state. The crystal ball went black. It had never done that before. Did he do something wrong?
"His position is blocked," Irwin explained. "That's powerful magic."
Draco tried to summon a vision of Aunt Bella and it was all black, too. "Aunt Bella is with him, isn't she?" he asked. Mr. Malfoy was supposed to be looking after Mr. Pettigrew and Bellatrix Lestrange. He wasn't supposed to let them join the other ex-Death Eaters to do strange rituals in Little Hangleton.
Mr. Malfoy was angry, but he was not going to share his concerns with the people present. Mr. Pettigrew must have double-crossed him. Mr. Pettigrew was so dead, and Draco didn't feel sorry for him at all.
"Jones, you will meet with Draco every evening until we understand what his vision means. This is very, very important. Harry will keep me informed of your progress. And thank you, Ms. Granger, for relaying the message to Harry to send for me." Mr. Malfoy got up, and Harry immediately went after his father to say good-bye.
Irwin disassembled the Divination equipment and named all the component again for Draco. Hermione asked questions that he didn't bother to answer.
"You have no Divination ability," he told her. "Don't waste your time. None of this would work for you. Here's a word of advice: stop taking Divination class before you take your OWLs. It's helping your class rank now, but do you think the outside examiners will want to hear about Harry Malfoy's death?"
Maybe Irwin wouldn't be such a terrible teacher after all. Hermione whispered to Draco, "He's good," and Irwin smiled more.
"First lesson tomorrow," Irwin told Draco. "You will know the time and place when it is time for you to know. Consider it your first test."
At dinner, Harry told Victor and Cedric about Draco's vision. Once it was clear that Lucius Malfoy was not going to break the engagement between Harry and Cedric after the second task, Harry and Cedric's relationship had changed. It actually became a relationship, much to Draco's extreme annoyance. Cedric Diggory was more than the-bloke-Harry-had-to-marry; he was now Harry's boyfriend. And so he often sat with the Gryffindors during meals and let the Weasley twins play pranks on him and let the little Gryffindor girls sigh over how handsome he was. Everyone adored him.
"Could you identify any of the Death Eaters?" Cedric asked, showing all the worry, concern, and sympathy that Harry would want his loyal boyfriend to feel.
"They wore masks," Harry said, perhaps a bit too quickly. There were still topics that were off-limits with Cedric. The Malfoys were working against the return of Voldemort, but they still had close ties to the former Death Eaters that they did not want to be public.
"What does it mean that Draco has been having this vision over and over again since November and none of the Ministry Seers have had anything like it?" Cedric asked. "Is Draco going to have to go to Little Hangleton and face all the Death Eaters in the cemetery?"
Draco's visions from last year were warnings about attacks on Harry, but he wasn't going to think about that. He wasn't going to Little Hangleton, and neither would Harry. Mr. Malfoy would find and kill Peter Pettigrew, and Draco's vision would go away.
"Thanks for that happy thought, Cedric," Draco said, and he hoped he didn't sound as scared as he felt. Turn it into a joke. That's how he dealt with everything that scared or confused him. "I'm staying far away from all cemeteries now. Where is Little Hangleton? Maybe Essex. I hate Essex. I bet the Dark Lord is from Essex. What do you think?"
When Draco was unhappy, Harry was unhappy, and when Harry was unhappy, Cedric would notice, and then he'd try to cheer them up because he was a good boyfriend. Cedric considered the question of the Dark Lord's home county, and he said, "I'd guess he's Welsh. Lord Volde-Llewellyn-mort of Aberystwyth and his loyal Death Sheep."
Another thing about Cedric Diggory that annoyed Draco: he could make Draco laugh, no matter how much Draco didn't want to. Death Sheep! That was brilliant. For the rest of dinner, Draco and Cedric did impressions of the Death Sheep ('Baa baa, Crucio! Baaaa…') and Harry laughed. Hermione tried to turn the conversation back to the scary vision, and Draco put her under sheep-imperio and Cedric asked her about something in her favorite book, Hogwarts, a History, and then she was happy, too. Draco would never admit it, but Cedric Diggory was the most likeable person on the planet.
That night Draco dreamed that a man in Death Eater robes killed Cedric in the creepy graveyard from his vision. It was a terrible dream, and it proved that Draco was a terrible person. Why couldn't he just let Harry be happy with Cedric? He wouldn't tell anyone about Cedric dying. It was just a stupid dream. It didn't mean anything.
It was the very end of the third task. The trophy was in front of Draco and Cedric in the center of the big Labyrinth of Death. They were both bleeding, limping, and breathing heavily, and they were smiling because the ordeal was over and they had won.
Draco said, "I got here first, before I went back to help you with that giant spider. That means I won."
"We're both here now. We tied."
"Now we're tied, but I still won and I'm going to tell Harry and all your kids and grandkids. They'll all know that Uncle Draco won the Tri-Wizard tournament and not you."
"But then I tricked you into helping me and not taking the trophy yourself. The spider was all part of my plan. Why aren't we ending this yet?"
"I don't know, but I don't think we should touch the trophy now. There's something wrong with it."
"Did you have another vision?"
"It's instinct. I have excellent instincts."
"So your plan is that we stand here and wait until your instincts let us take the trophy? And we hope that all the monsters in the maze won't find us?"
"I forgot about the monsters. Good point. You've convinced me. On the count of three. One… two..." They both grabbed the trophy and then felt the pull of a port-key. Draco knew it was a bad idea to touch it.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck. They were in Little Hangleton with the creepy graveyard and the weird big black cauldron. It was all like Draco's vision, except without the Death Eaters. They were probably on their way.
"Can you apparate?" Draco asked Cedric. "We need to get out of here now!"
Cedric nodded and took Draco's hand to do a side-along apparation. It would be risky to apparate without knowing where they were or where they were going, but it was better than staying in the graveyard and waiting for Peter Pettigrew. Before Cedric could begin the spell, they were both petrified from behind and fell to the ground.
Draco couldn't see his attacker, but he knew it had to be Mr. Pettigrew being evil again. He said, "I can't see you, Mr. Pettigrew, but I know it's you and I know we're in Little Hangleton. Lucius Malfoy knows, too, and he's going to come and save us if you don't let us go now." That was wishful thinking, but Draco was willing to say anything if it would make him seem less defenseless.
A thin, hissing voice said, "Is that little Draco Potter all grown up?" Draco had heard that voice before, back in his first year, when Voldemort was on the back of Professor Quirrell's head. Voldemort was back! Was he on Mr. Pettigrew's head now?
Draco said, "I know your voice, Tom. We defeated you before, and we'll fight you again, unless you let us go."
"He's louder than I remember," Voldemort hissed. "Get on with it, Wormtail. Kill the spare."
Spare what? Oh Merlin, Cedric! "Not Cedric!" Draco yelled. "If you kill him, bad things will happen. The Malfoys would never forgive you. They hate Professor Dumbledore, you know, and they really hate muggles. They may go over to your side, if you let us go. Cedric is going to marry Harry. Don't kill him!"
"Shall I silence him, my Lord?" Mr. Pettigrew asked.
"Yes," Voldemort said. "But leave the other boy, in case Draco is telling the truth. He could be useful."
Draco tried to say something more about how Voldemort should let them go, but the silencing spell had been cast and he was still petrified. He was totally helpless. He really, really hoped that Mr. Malfoy would remember Draco's vision and come and save the day. Otherwise, Draco and Cedric were dead.
Whatever was in the cauldron smelled very, very foul. Mr. Pettigrew picked Draco up and dragged him over to the big tombstone that Draco had seen many times in his visions. Mr. Pettigrew used a spell to tie Draco to the Riddle tombstone with ropes. That didn't seem super-necessary since Draco was petrified, but Draco couldn't comment because he was still silenced.
From his new viewpoint, he looked around the graveyard for Voldemort and didn't see him. Mr. Pettigrew looked scruffier and dirtier than he used to be, but he did not have any extra faces on his head or unusual headwear like Professor Quirrell. There was a pile of black robes aside the cauldron that seemed to move a bit, but that couldn't possibly be the Dark Lord. He'd have to be tiny and puny to hide in the robes. Maybe Voldemort had an invisibility cloak.
"Get on with it," Voldemort hissed, and the voice did come from the robes. How weird. Then Mr. Pettigrew picked up the pile of robes and Draco could see the baby-sized hairless, gray, scaly, disgusting creature that Voldemort was now. Fuck. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he die like a normal person? Mr. Pettigrew gently put him/it into the cauldron, and the freaky ritual began.
Bone from the father, flesh from the servant, blood from the enemy. Unfortunately Draco was the enemy. Mr. Pettigrew slashed Draco's arm with a jagged knife and collected drops of his blood on the blade. Then something happened in the cauldron, and a full-grown Lord Voldemort climbed out. Fuck fuck fuck. Where was Mr. Malfoy? Professor Dumbledore? Harry? Anyone?
Voldemort was more-or-less human again. He didn't have a nose, his skin was gray and scaly, and his eyes were bright red, but he was definitely alive and dangerous.
"Welcome back, my Lord," Mr. Pettigrew said with heartfelt pride and joy in his voice. How did he hide that he was a psycho, loyal Death Eater for so long? Voldemort summoned his most loyal Death Eaters using Mr. Pettigrew's Dark mark, and Draco tried very hard to move his toes. He needed to escape now. Cedric still hadn't made a sound from where he had been left. Hopefully Voldemort would be so happy to have a real body and to see his old friends again that he'd forget about Draco and Cedric and let them live. And maybe Voldemort would tell everyone he loved muggles and dance a gig.
There were pops around the graveyard as fully-costumed Death Eaters apparated in. Harry would have been able to say who they were, but Draco had no clue who they were and he didn't want to hang around long enough to get to know them. No one said anything about Voldemort's miraculous return, until Aunt Bella came.
"My Lord! I knew you would come! The Rat doubted, the Malfoy Snake said it was impossible, the doctors tried to give me drugs to silence me, but I knew! You will rescue my husband from that horrible place." In her enthusiasm, she came too close to Voldemort, and he hexed her with something terrible that made her look ecstatic.
"Bellatrix, I remember you well. Still mad, I see," Voldemort said in his new lower hissy voice. "Your nephew is going to be killed now. I apologize for the attack on your family, but he is my enemy and he must be sacrificed."
"As you wish, my Lord." Aunt Bella curtsied and took her place among the other Death Eaters. That's all she could say about her only nephew being 'sacrificed'? She was the worst aunt on the planet.
Draco hoped that Voldemort would wait for many more people, but he seemed satisfied with the dozen Death Eaters who were there. And so the Death Eater reunion began. He insulted them, he yelled at them for not being very faithful or loyal after his supposed death, and he cast Crucio on a few of them. If all Death Eater meetings were like that, Draco didn't know why Voldemort had any followers at all.
Unfortunately Voldemort had not forgotten his lovely prisoners. After he gave Mr. Pettigrew a new shiny, metallic hand, he turned to face Draco on the tombstone. "I will miss having you as an enemy, Draco Potter. I requested your presence here tonight, and my true followers have delivered you to me. Your death will be a great loss to my most powerful enemies. Your parents, Albus Dumbledore, the Malfoy family – I stole you in front of them all. And, of course, there is the prophecy. One of us is destined to kill the other. Who do you think will be the victim, Draco?"
Draco hadn't thought about that old prophecy for years. No one believed that he was the chosen one who would defeat Voldemort. He didn't believe it, either. He wasn't powerful enough. Now, unless help arrived really, really soon, the prophecy would be fulfilled by Voldemort killing Draco.
"Shall we duel, Mr. Potter?" Voldemort bowed with mock formality, and the ropes holding Draco against the tombstone came undone and Draco fell to the ground. He was no longer petrified, and he cleared his throat and was glad that he was no longer silenced. He didn't know how to do nonverbal spells. He was still doomed, but he had his wand and he was no longer physically restrained. He needed a diversion –
There were pops everywhere, and Draco ran to Cedric.
"Lllluuuuciusssss," Voldemort crooned evilly. "I knew you would be unable to refuse my call."
Draco cast 'Finite' and unpetrified Cedric. He helped Cedric get up and he looked for the trophy/port-key back to Hogwarts. He summoned it.
"No matter how many times my son kills you, you keep on returning and trying again. When will you give up?" Lucius Malfoy said. It was easy to sound cocky when you are surrounded by about fifty well-armed minions. He should have known better than to taunt the most evil wizard in the world, especially when there were two defenseless, innocent boys near by and trying desperately to escape.
"Speaking of your son," Voldemort began, then spun around and cast a very powerful Avada Kedavra at Draco and Cedric. Draco threw himself onto the ground as soon as he realized what was happening. Cedric fell down on top of him, just as the trophy/port-key was activated to bring them back to Hogwarts.
They appeared in front of the stands for the Tri-Wizard tournament. Draco was crying, and Cedric was dead.
Harry was excused from Hogwarts for the remainder of the year. Mr. Malfoy had arrived at Hogwarts about a half hour after Draco and Cedric returned. Harry had spent that half hour with Draco in the infirmary, asking about what Draco had seen in the graveyard. Draco told him everything, and they let Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and Draco's parents listen, too. But then Harry went away with his father and Draco was alone, and he had to tell something to the other Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs who wanted to know what happened to everyone's best friend, Cedric Diggory.
There were strange side-effects from the resurrection ritual for Draco Potter. He had a lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his arm where Mr. Pettigrew had drawn his blood, and he had vague but vivid dreams about the Dark Lord almost every night. Drops of Draco's blood were now part of Voldemort's body. They had a connection, and Draco didn't like it at all.
The 'Daily Prophet' published a detailed account of Voldemort's resurrection on the front page, complete with the names of the Death Eaters who had been present. The 'Daily Prophet' proclaimed its support of the Malfoy family and their honorable fight against the Dark Lord.
(Thanks for your reviews. They make me smile.)