Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen.
When his surroundings once again became normal and his feet landed on the ground he knew that he had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; he had obviously traveled miles - perhaps hundreds of miles - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. Instead he was standing in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to his right. A hill rose above him to his left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside. He had seen it before, in his dream, Nagini had showed it to him.
Suddenly he felt someone coming, someone was watching him. Drawing his wand, he waited. Squinting tensely through the darkness, he saw a figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward him between the graves. Harry couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, he could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And - several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time - Harry saw that the thing in the person's arms looked like a baby…or was it merely a bundle of robes?
And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all; his head was about to split open. A pain worse then the cruciatus curse seemed to engulf him. Then he felt himself being pulled to his feet.
The short man in the cloak had put down his bundle, lit his wand, and was dragging Harry toward the marble headstone. Harry saw the name upon it flickering in the wandlight before he was forced around and slammed against it.
TOM RIDDLE
The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Harry, tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. Harry could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; he would have struggled, but his mind didn't seem capable of comprehend anything but the name on the tomb. Tom was dead, was that why Dumbledore hadn't told him anything; didn't he think Harry would be able to face a life without his brother? It took him a few minutes before he was able to focus his mind on the current situation and was able to recognize the man. It was the rat-like-man from his dream that was tying him up. The one Nagini had seen. NAGINI! His mind suddenly screamed. Was she there? He tried to took fro her but bundle of robes the man had placed on the ground suddenly moved, drawing his attention.
Something inside it made it move, as of it was trying to free itself. The man was now busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly there were crackling flames beneath it. The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat very fast. The surface began not only to bubble, but to send out fiery sparks, as though it were on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Wormtail tending the fire. The movements beneath the robes became more agitated. And Harry heard the high, cold voice again.
"Hurry!"
The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. It might have been encrusted with diamonds.
"It is ready Master."
"Now…" said the cold voice. Just as a large snake slithered away into the darkness. Harry recognized it immediately.
"NAGINI!" Harry hissed, even his hiss sounded shocked as it came out and caused the bundle to stop it movements and the snake to look up at him. "Nagini!" Harry said again, this time making her move closer.
"Wormtail!" The bundle called out, it sounded almost as inhuman as the hiss that had left Harry's lips. "Let me look at him!"
"We are almost finished my lord." The man, Wormtail, said with a fearful tone. "Soon you can look at him yourself. If you wait it will be ruined."
The thing in the bundle said nothing more, it seemed it accepted this excuse and the man let out a audible breath in relief.
"Be quiet." The thing ordered when Harry tried to gain Nagini's attention again. Also he speaking in parseltongue. The sheer surprise made Harry silent as the, what seemed to be a, ritual carried on. Soon the bundle was picked up and dropped into the cauldron. There was another hiss, and it vanished below the surface; Harry heard it's frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.
Wormtail begun to speak. 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. This time it was spoken words rather than written that caused Harry's eyes to widen. Father, that thing was Tom's son? His Tom had a child? A child that was using his own father's bones in a dark ritual? He didn't listen or see anything else, then Wormtail was suddenly standing in front of him with a raised knife. Harry refused to look away, he would face his death head on. But the stab never came, instead the tip of the knife merely penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his robes. He staggered back to the cauldron with Harry's blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done.
Then, through the mist in front of him, Harry saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.
"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from the couldron, and Wormtail scrambled to pick up a black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one handed over his master's head.
The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry…and Harry stared back into the face. It was whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snakes with slits for nostrils…
"Who are you?" Harry asked, his voice no more than a whisper. It had barely left his lips before a crack was heard and Tom along with Moody appeared on the scene. The snake like man seemed as surprised as Harry.
"Crouch, you brought a guest." It said, admiring Tom who looked back at it with a hint of disgust in his expression. The thing only smiled a lipless smile. "I don't suppose I look like you have imagined?" He asked, while examining it's new body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cats, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness.
"Not really, no." Tom agreed, his eyes never even glancing at Harry.
"I should have known you would figure it all out." It sounded pleased. "Here to welcome me back?"
"I was curious." Tom said, his eyes glued on the snake-like-man. Neither taking any notice to Harry as Nagini started to circle Harry, hissing.
"Curiousness is good, it drives you to learn new things. I will show you something marvelous." The thing said, gesturing for Moody to come forward. He did, his left arm offered to the thing.
Harry saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth- the Dark Mark. The thing, that Harry now guessed was the Dark Lord, examined it carefully.
"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it…and now, we shall see…now we shall know…" He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Moody's, no Crouch's, arm.
The scar on Harry s forehead seared with a sharp pain again, and Crouch let out a howl of pain; Voldemort removed his fingers from Crouch's mark, and Harry saw that it had turned jet black.
With a look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Voldemort straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.
"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. Tom, Harry, everyone around him, seemingly forgotten. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"
Tbc… Well if people are going to start giving me some feedback at least. Thanks to the ones who did on my last chapter, it means alot! Only 0,5 procent of you readers gave me some on chapter 13. Thats the least reviews I have ever gottem. Have I become that terrible?