The tale of what the Marauders did after Harry was given away is not yet complete… so the should haves and could haves are a bit premature. Harry will get the complete story from the one person he trusts. It won't change your perception dramatically or anything. It'll only serve as a bit of closure for Harry and give another view of the abridged version you've been getting… after all the marauders were 21 when they gave Harry away... Do you honestly see them as responsible, emotionally mature adults even at that age? ;)
Usually an equal percentage of readers like and dislike my chapters but I fear that I might tip the scales over for this one because of the characterizations. I hope this Voldemort doesn't fall below expectations.
Harry's eyes widened in shock.
"W- Wa-Walter," His voice echoed in what seemed like a run down graveyard. Other than his own voice and his frantic heartbeat Harry could only hear total silence. Harry fell to the ground, with a thud, on his knees as he grabbed hold of Walter's limp hand convulsively.
"Get up, Walter," Harry shook Walter violently but Walter remained unresponsive, his eyes eerily blank. Harry pulled at his friend, nearly pulling out some of the buttons of Walter's dress shirt as he struggled with his much heavier friend but he couldn't lift him up.
"Walt, Please," Harry voice showed the panic he was feeling inside. His friend's head flopped around in a way that made Harry's blood freeze.
"Tie him up," The voice ordered again.
Harry turned around amazed he had forgotten the man behind him.
A hand swiftly got hold of the back of his collar and started dragging him across the ground.
"NO, NO, Let me GO!" Harry yowled as he tried to struggle with all his might. He nearly choked as the front of his shirt pushed into his throat mercilessly. He dragged his feet in the ground as he pulled at his buttons to get some air. Through the mini dust storm he was leaving in his wake he could see Walter still lying on the ground where he had fallen, motionless.
"Leave me ALONE!" Harry continued to struggle as the man propped him against a slab.
Harry tried to get up but before he could try ropes suddenly appeared out no where and wrapped themselves around him. From his vantage point Harry could see the scene unfolding in front of him. There were two men; one was the cloaked shadowy figure while the other was a short mousy sort of man. The shorter man was hunched over in a sort of subservient way that implied the other man was the one in power.
The shorter man seemed to be assembling a cooking pot of sorts while the taller mysterious man was wandering around Walter.
"Don't you dare- Don't you dare touch him," Harry threatened, voice low, even tied up he was feeling more scared for his friend then for himself.
"Dear, dear, Harry, such pain, such bravado," The taller man mocked Harry. The man now ignored Walter and started strolling towards the pot in front of him.
"You- you know me," Harry asked, confused.
"The whole world may have forgotten you but not me, dear Harry. Your Lord is a generous and thoughtful master, is he not, Wormtail."
"Yes, master," The shorted man answered in a slimy fashion grinning like a demented fool as he lifted his wand to stir something in the pot.
Harry felt a stab of pain in his forehead but he ignored it for the larger problem that was quite literally at his feet. A large snake was sinuously slithering around him. Harry gulped and tried to not make any sudden movements.
"Kill master Kill," An inhuman voice reached Harry and he looked around wildly trying to figure out the source. The smaller man was still working over the pot while the one who called himself Lord had coaxed the snake towards himself and was petting it.
"There, there Nagini, you shall feast soon enough. The dead boy is plump and fresh."
"What are you saying- to that snake?" Harry panicked even further. What the man was saying to the snake implied that-
The man chucked and Harry got a proper look at his face for the first time. He was a pale man with a sharp jaw and dark eyes. He looked like the kind of man who would stand out no matter what crowd he was placed in.
Harry's attempts at trying to get out from the ropes gained another burst of momentum. "What have you done with Walter?"
"No pulse, no breath, no soul, I believe that constitutes as being dead, dear Harry."
"NO," Harry howled feeling the loss acutely. Deep down inside he had begun to suspect it but to have it confirmed was heart wrenching. Harry tried to free himself but it was useless.
"So unfair to lose a friend so early in life but life is rarely fair, young Harry. See the cruelties and indignities it has brought upon me. For the past ten years I have to live in such ignominy and seclusion. The greatest wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort, destitute and roaming amongst muggles," The man sighed.
"You," Harry whispered finally understanding who this man was.
The man smirked. "So you have heard of me. My notoriety hasn't perished as I had feared."
"What do you want with me," Harry asked instead of commenting on Voldemort's ludicrous notions of popularity.
"It's ready, master," Wormtail squeaked, voice laced with pleasure.
"Finally," Voldemort clapped his hands. He then pulled out a knife from under his cloak. It glinted in the rising moon and Harry leaned away as the man walked forward.
The short stabs of pain in his head had multiplied to the point where Harry couldn't differentiate when one ended and the other began. Even in the November cold, sweat started appearing on Harry's face as he struggled to endure the alarming, unexplained pain. He could only discern that it was growing exponentially with each step Voldemort took towards him.
"Do the honours, Wormtail," The man casually threw his servant the knife.
The mousy man shuffled towards Harry and pulled up his sleeve roughly and pierced the skin. Blood welled out from the wound but Harry was in no position to notice it as the pain in his head surpassed the pain in his arm.
"Harry, Harry, Harry, what would Dumbledore say when he sees one of his pet Gryffindors so defeated at the sight of such paltry adversity," Voldemort crooned in his ear mistaking the reason for Harry's grimace of pain.
"Dumbledore can bugger off," Harry grinded his teeth together as he spoke.
The man chuckled low and steady. "I forgot, Harry Potter, does not even exist in the wizarding world. I knew Dumbledore and his Muggle Loving ways would be the ruin of us all. Sending a wizarding child to live with muggles; how utterly cruel."
Harry's eyes rolled in his head as the man patted him; the pain making him feel like his head could just explode.
The smoke in the large cooking pot turned to a purple shade and Wormtail began pouring out the liquid from a ladle into a small silver goblet.
"Here, master," Wormtail eagerly presented the liquid to Voldemort and even through his pain Harry was conscious of how sickening the subservience was.
The man lifted his goblet towards Harry, "To Harry Potter." He then gulped the contents of it in one go.
"Give me your wand, Wormtail," The man commanded. His expression was a cross between impatience and delight. His servant gave him the wand and the man twirled it a little, showing off.
Voldemort closed his eyes and waved his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"
Harry clenched his eyes closed as he expected another green light to hit him but nothing happened.
"NO, this cannot be," Voldemort growled as he threw the wand in a fit of anger, "It was supposed to WORK!" The snake tried to sooth the man by wriggling itself across his leg but Voldemort shook it off.
Harry stared at the scene with confusion and apprehension. Gone was the almost relaxed persona of before and was now replaced with the furious demonic creature.
"The heart, we should have gone for the heart. Blood was obviously a weak substitute," The man eyed Harry viciously like he was the snake and Harry was the prey.
Even the short man looked apprehensive but he picked up the knife once again.
Harry once again began his quest to release himself. He struggled furiously against the ropes trying to wriggle out from under them but while he was skinny he wasn't a skeleton and from the looks of things he was about to turn into one.
Wormtail looked him in the eye for the first time. He still looked reluctant but the hand which held the knife was steady and firm.
Harry's heartbeat reached an all time high and it wildly drummed in his ears. As the knife pressed into his shirt, the man holding it muttered, "Sorry, James," and an explosion seemed to happen. *BOOM*
Fireworks rose in the sky everywhere. Red, Blue, Yellow; all sorts of colours filled the graveyard. Harry opened his eyes to realize the knife hadn't pierced him and he was alive. Harry surveyed the area and noticed the short man was on the floor while Voldemort was steadying himself with the pot. And surprisingly enough the ropes were on the floor no longer tying him to the spot.
He made a run for it.
"Get him, Wormtail," Voldemort snarled.
Harry hid behind one of the tombstones trying to figure out how he was still alive.
"Come out, come out, Harry Potter. Can't stay hidden forever."
Harry crawled to a neighbouring tombstone taking advantage of the moon hiding behind clouds.
"The heart you see is such an interesting component of the human body. It contains links to all three of the vital energy sources for a functioning wizard; the life source, the soul and the magic source," Voldemort lectured sounding a lot calmer than before, "Your blood may have not worked but your heart might just trigger the potion's components, after all you were my last victim."
Harry leaned against the tombstone cursing his own loud heartbeat for rendering him utterly useless at hearing footprints.
"Well, if the game's over then Nagini can begin her feast on poor, old, Walter."
In less than a heartbeat later Harry stood up, trembling, but resolute. Walter was not going to be mutilated like this, "No!"
"Just like a Gryffindor to care for the dead over the living. Pathetic," Voldemort sneered, his eyes glittering madly.
"Don't you dare do anything to Walter," Harry's voice promised pain.
Voldemort laughed at the sight of the eleven year old threatening him. Grown men had died in front of him begging for mercy and here this boy was providing such an interesting contrast.
"Foolish little brave boy. You think you can stop me. Nagini commence with the feast. "
"Stop, Nagini," Harry uttered. He stopped instantly surprised by another burst of snake hissing from his mouth. It was only a couple of months ago when he had talked to the boa constructor. He hadn't known he could speak to a snake again.
The large snake, Nagini, halted.
Voldemort cocked his head, eyes wide, "You speak it?"
Harry ignored him as his attention was more focused on Nagini and Walter. "Turn back, Nagini, I will kill you if you don't."
Wormtail staggered towards him with the knife in his hands ready to strike again but a sudden bolt of light hit the man and he collapsed.
"Without a wand…a child... How is it possible?" Voldemort continued to hiss unfazed by his blubbering servant. Nagini slithered back looking as confused as a snake could look. It wrapped itself around her master.
"I don't know," Harry replied, voice cold, "and I don't care."
Another round of fireworks began and the whole place was once again submerged in light. In a flash the graveyard was full of people. Harry blinked in confusion almost convinced he was hallucinating.
"Harry," a strangled familiar voice reached Harry from the din of the celebrating fireworks. Harry looked up to see his godfather running towards him, his hair a wild mess.
"Wormtail," Voldemort roared. The portly man stumbled across the terrain and grabbed hold of his master's arm. In a twinkle of an eye they were gone.
"You Know Who lives!" An unfamiliar person cried out while her sighs were punctuated by other groans of dismay. The group of murmuring people started to look around the place curiously. One lady even picked up the fallen silver goblet and began examining it.
Sirius had raced up to Harry and was now holding onto him. "We were so scared, so worried when we realized you were missing."
"Walter," Harry looked into the distance unblinkingly.
"Yes, Walter disappeared along with you though I don't see what You Know Who could possibly want with a muggle…"
"Walter," Harry spoke his friend's name again, emotionlessly. Harry was having trouble formulating any thoughts about anyone other than his friend.
"Sirius, we found a child's body," a stranger spoke from behind them. Sirius gasped and turned to speak to the man.
As soon as Sirius let him go Harry fell to the ground. He was so tired; from the pain, exhaustion, from using magic. He just wanted to sleep.
Voldemort knows he's made a mistake but he still doesn't know what. How Harry was found and stuff will be revealed later.