Severus Snape sat alone in his home at Spinner's End. His Dark Mark had been growing darker over the past weeks, and he expected his former Master to call him at any moment. He remembered Dumbledore's request that he return to Voldemort whenever he called. As much as he detested his work as a spy, he knew it was needed, and would do as Dumbledore wished.
When he felt his Mark start to burn, he apparated to Voldemort, and found himself in the sitting room of what was once an impressive manor house. A faded bronze chandelier hung above a worn Oriental rug in the center of the room. The Dark Lord stood in the far corner, observing his followers with his crimson red eyes. He stood taller than all his Death Eaters, dressed in resplendent black robes, and holding his yew wand loosely at his side.
Peter Pettigrew cowered in Voldemort's shadow. He was missing a hand, and standing unsteadily, as if he were not used to it. Snape surmised that Voldemort had not been kind to the man after his failure in the graveyard.
"It has been too long, my friends," said Voldemort, his voice smooth and even. "For thirteen years, I roamed the world as less than a ghost. For thirteen years, none of you sought to aid in my return. Was I not a benevolent Master?"
"I came back," Pettigrew offered, groveling at his Master's feet.
"Out of fear, not loyalty Wormtail," he said, looking down at the rat. He looked back up to address his assembled servants. "You, my most faithful followers, knew I had conquered death. Yet, none of you sought me. Have you so easily forsaken the old ways? What of you, Macnair?" Voldemort asked, stepping toward one of the men, who immediately went prostrate. "Is putting down wild beasts at the Ministry's command all that you desire?"
"No, my Lord," he said softly.
"Severus," Voldemort stood in front of Snape, who fell to his knees, "my most trusted servant. The old fool still believes you to be loyal to him, does he not?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Excellent. We shall use that to our advantage." He rubbed his chin, considering who to address next, before walking silently in front of another man, who bowed before his Lord. "Ah, Lucius. I hear you are a respectable businessman now." He stared coldly into Malfoy's eyes. "I offer my apologies for placing you under the Imperius Curse all those years ago, though from my recollection, you seemed to serve quite willingly."
"I had no choice, my Lord," he said, kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes. "I would have been imprisoned."
"My most faithful were imprisoned," he said, "Though that shall be remedied shortly. You have forsaken me, Lucius. Why should I spare you? Have you used your freedom to advance our noble cause?"
"Yes," he stammered, "My position at the Ministry is secure."
"You have sway with the Minister?" Voldemort asked, caressing his wand. Lucius nodded fervently. "Have you learned anything that can benefit us?"
"Yes, my Lord. It is a tightly kept secret, but Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year. It will be an opportune moment to strike."
Voldemort was silent for a moment as he considered the opportunity. He nodded slowly and said, "That will fit into my plans." He walked away from Lucius and to the center of the room. He gazed at his followers, his gaze unnerving many of them. "Go now, my Death Eaters, but be ready. We shall have made our first move before the end of the summer."
Snape apparated away from the manor house to Grimmauld Place to tell Dumbledore about what had transpired.
"He seemed to be interested in the Tournament, Headmaster. What do you think he is planning?"
"I do not know, Severus," he said with a soft sight, "But we must be alert. We will need to be more careful. Voldemort trusts you more now than he did before his fall. The information he gives you will be more sensitive than that which he gave last time."
On Harry's first day back at Grimmauld Place, he and Sirius had dueled. His Godfather was capable in a fight, but Harry outclassed him now. Sirius had been incredibly proud, but Harry was sad that his Godfather could not teach him anything more.
As promised, Snape had visited to practice Occlumency.
"Occlumency is an obscure and difficult branch of magic. The key is compartmentalization. If your mind is organized, and free from emotion, a legilimens will be unable to successfully navigate it. Masters of the craft can prevent a legilimens from knowing it is being employed. After this step is mastered, you will work on shielding your thoughts. Clear your mind of emotions."
"Yes, sir."
"Are you ready?" Harry nodded. "Legilimens!" Harry felt images of his past being pulled to the front of his mind.
Harry sat on his bed, cowering away from his cousin's beefy fist, before magically throwing the larger boy across his small bedroom.
He stood victorious over Wormtail's broken body, but had no time to enjoy his triumph as his world darkened in pain.
His lay helplessly on the ground, his arm broken, as a Bludger soared toward his head.
He held Daphne's still body close to him in front of the Mirror of Erised, terrified that he had lost her forever.
No, Harry thought, That's private. "Clear your mind of emotions," he remembered hearing Snape say. He stopped focusing on the feelings he associated with his memories, and gradually, his mind became free of emotions. The memories stopped.
"Again," Snape said. "Legilimens!"
Daphne smiled prettily, taking a step toward him before glaring at him and running away.
Harry looked at Daphne from across the Great Hall and she looked away as soon as she noticed his gaze.
Harry allowed the feeling of hurt he associated with these images to fade and the memories stopped.
"Acceptable," Snape said, "For a first lesson. We will continue at a later date."
Albus Dumbledore stood before his staff as they discussed the upcoming year at Hogwarts.
"As some of you have already heard," he said, his eyes twinkling, "Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament. Delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October."
"Albus," Professor McGonagall began, "Isn't the Tournament supposed to be dangerous?"
"Yes, Minerva, it is. That is why I will personally draw an age line around the Goblet of Fire to prevent any underage students from entering their names." He looked at the rest of the teachers. "The other schools will only be bringing students old enough to compete in the Tournament, so only the NEWT level courses will have additional students.
"Severus, Filius, I would like to thank you for the additional work you have done with Harry. I would ask that you continue instructing him in Occlumency and advanced Charms, but I will begin teaching him dueling this year."
"Yes, Headmaster," they both said.
After the meeting had concluded, Snape approached the Headmaster. "Albus, the Dark Lord has given me a… disturbing mission."
"What is it, Severus?"
"I am to enter Harry in the Tournament," he said with a sigh.
"Has Voldemort told you how to go about this?" Dumbledore asked.
"He recommended Confunding the Goblet and entering him under a fourth school."
"I believe that would prove to be successful, Severus."
"What should I do, Albus?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.
"I will discuss this with Harry. If he consents, you must do as Voldemort requested. We cannot afford to have you exposed."
"What about Harry?"
"He is a very capable young man- the most capable duelist we have enrolled. He would likely be chosen on his own merits if he were allowed to enter. Nevertheless, I shall do everything in my power to make sure that he gets through the tournament unharmed. I will not allow any harm to befall him," Dumbledore said confidently. Internally, however, he was very nervous. He knew that the Dark Lord was planning something, but could not afford to lose his only spy within the Death Eaters. He could not, in good conscience, ask someone from the Order to join their ranks. He would gladly accept any Death Eater turncoats, but they were generally reluctant to come to him. Severus had, in fact, been the only one to find him.
He needed the information Severus provided through his position, so he would reluctantly allow Harry to participate in the Tournament, and protect him at any cost.
Remus Lupin walked nervously up the steps to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, preparing to see his best friend again. Under most circumstances, he would have been looking forward to the reunion. However, for the past thirteen years, he had believed that Sirius Black had betrayed his other friends. He had grown to hate Sirius, and for that, he hated himself.
When Dumbledore told him of Sirius' innocence, his first reaction had been disbelief. The evidence against him was overwhelming. After Dumbledore had explained Sirius' story, everything had fallen into place. The fact that Sirius was never given a trial further proved the point.
His disbelief had turned into excitement. He had his best friend back! For that past twelve years, he had believed that everyone he had ever cared for was dead. He cared about Harry, he supposed, but he had not spent any time with the child since Lily and James were killed. Sirius' innocence changed his entire existence.
That excitement soon became disgust. He had turned his back on his only remaining friend, without ever hearing his side of the story. He knew Sirius would forgive him, but did not think he deserved it.
He walked into the kitchen, and saw Sirius sitting alone at the table. "Padfoot."
Sirius looked up from his breakfast and saw the only real friend he had left. "Moony."
Remus slouched a bit at the cold greeting. "I'm so sorry, Sirius. I never should have believed you could-"
Sirius raised a hand, gesturing for him to stop. "Say no more, Remus," he said, as he stood up and rushed to embrace his friend. Everything was going to be alright.
Daphne stood with her family in the forest outside of the Quidditch World Cup. It was important for her family to be seen interacting with high society at major events such as the World Cup. Her parents did not have to speak with her, so long as they were seen together.
She thought she saw Harry and Dumbledore walking to the top box, but she was not sure. She had wanted to greet him, and had been forced to restrain herself.
Her family found their seats, slightly lower in the packed stadium. She sighed softly as the game started. She did not particularly care for Quidditch.
Harry and Dumbledore sat in the top box at the Quidditch World Cup at the Minister for Magic's request. He looked around the box and saw a house elf, presumably saving a seat for her master. He noticed three empty seats near the Minister, and saw that the Weasley family was also there. He did not care for their youngest children, but the parents were loyal members of the Order.
"Albus, Harry, so glad you could make it," said the Minister.
"To what do we owe the pleasure, Cornelius?" asked Dumbledore.
Fudge shook his head sadly, and said, "Truth be told, Albus, I've heard some rather disturbing rumors."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"Apparently, you and Dumbledore are under the impression that He is back. He's not. He can't be. I must ask that you stop spreading this… this story."
Dumbledore sighed. He had expected something like this. "I will do what I must, and I expect you to do the same."
Fudge scowled, but said nothing further. They watched the game in what Harry considered to be an awkward silence, though Dumbledore seemed cheery and oblivious to his discomfort.
Harry was only a casual fan of Quidditch, but the match was fantastic. Viktor Krum was, without a doubt, the best flier he had ever seen. He considered himself to be a fair flier, but knew he was outclassed by the Bulgarian. The man looked like he was born on a broom, as he flew around the pitch with reckless abandon.
His skill, however, did not seem to be enough to enable the Bulgarians to win. The Irish Chasers were superb, and made their Bulgarian counterparts look foolish. By the time Krum managed to catch the Snitch, the game was already out of reach.
Barty Crouch Junior sat beside his house elf, under an Invisibility Cloak in the top box at the Quidditch World Cup. He had managed to break his father's Imperius Curse (he would kill the man for imprisoning him and trying to take away his free will), and was finally free. He overheard the Minister for Magic speaking with Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter. They did not mention his Master's name, but the implications were clear. Potter and Dumbledore knew that the Dark Lord was back, and the Ministry was denying it.
He, of course, knew when he felt his Dark Mark burn that his Master walked once more with the living. He would find his Master, and he would bring with him Harry Potter's corpse.
"Harry," said Dumbledore, "The Minister and I have much to discuss. Would you consent to returning to Headquarters with Arthur?"
"Yes, sir," Harry said.
Harry and the redheaded man began walking toward the apparition point to return to Grimmauld Place. "Harry," Mr. Weasley began, "I never had a chance to properly thank you for saving my daughter's life."
Harry had forgiven the girl for her foolishness, but he still did not like her. "You're welcome, Mr. Weasley."
Daphne was confused when she saw Harry leave the game with the Weasley patriarch. As far as she knew, Harry and the Weasleys did not get along very well.
As she watched them walk away, a man appeared out of thin air behind Harry and trained his wand on Harry's back.
"Harry, watch out!" she screamed, hoping she was not too late.
Harry heard someone call for him to watch out, and dove to the ground instinctively. He rolled over in time to see a sickly green light shoot over his prone form. The Killing Curse flew harmlessly into the forest.
Arthur Weasley knew that he was not much of a duelist, but that he had a duty to protect Harry. Besides, the boy had saved his daughter's life. "Stupefy!" Crouch deflected the stunner with ease, but the distraction proved to be too much.
Harry leapt to his feet, his wand aimed at the man who had just tried to kill him. "Sectumsempra!" Snape taught him the curse during one of their lessons, and had instructed him only to use it if he wanted to inflict severe damage on his target. Crouch, who still had his shield up after deflecting Arthur's spell, was unable to avoid the curse which shattered his shield.
The powerful curse struck Crouch like the slash of a sword, cutting into his flesh starting at his shoulder and ending near his waist. His face whitened instantly, as blood splattered out of his wound. Crouch looked at Harry with hatred, knowing he had been defeated. With the last of his strength, he apparated to safety.
Harry cursed as Crouch apparated. He had hoped to keep the man from escaping. He turned to Arthur. "Thanks, Mr. Weasley," he said sincerely. "You kept him occupied."
Mr. Weasley nodded absently, surveying the area for any more threats. Harry suspected that the attacker had been alone. If there were more of them, they would have all attacked at the same time.
When he cursed Crouch, he saw that Daphne had been watching him nervously. He realized she had been the one to warn him. If she had not, he would have been killed. He walked to where she had been standing when Crouch attacked him, but she was already gone.
A score of masked Death Eaters flew toward their target, with Voldemort at the lead and Severus Snape at his right side. The Death Eaters were all on brooms, though Voldemort flew under his own power.
They were close now. The harsh wind whipped in their faces as the sea crashed below them. On the horizon was Azkaban Prison.
Voldemort smiled maliciously. The Qudditch World Cup had been a perfect diversion for his attack.
He had kept this plan to himself until the last moment. He did not distrust any specific Death Eater, for he believed them all to be loyal to him, but he was paranoid enough to know that any of them could betray him.
With a single jab of his wand, a portion of the thick stone wall surrounding the prison was pulverized. He landed on the rock floor and began strolling leisurely through the prison. He walked down the blocks of cells and deeper into the prison. There were few human guards on duty, and no reserves. They were all stationed at the World Cup. The dementors were the prison's only real defense, and they would stand alongside the Dark Lord, not in his way. They would, however, be forced to remain in the prison until the Ministry acknowledged his presence.
He rounded a corner and encountered the first guard. His eyes widened, but he did not get a chance to warn his colleagues.
"Avada Kedavra!" The jet of green light erupted from Voldemort's wand and struck the guard in the chest, extinguishing the life from his body.
Voldemort stepped casually over the corpse of the dead guard and continued further into the prison.
As the Dark Lord and his followers approached the deepest part of the prison, many of the Death Eaters began to feel the chilling effects of the dementors. He looked to his left and saw that Lucius trembled as he moved forward. Snape also seemed to be suffering. Voldemort, personally, did not notice the effects of the creatures. The dozens of dementors guarding the prison's innermost cellblock drifted aside to allow the Death Eaters access.
Two Aurors guarded the cells containing Voldemort's most faithful servants. Both of them began firing curses at the Dark Lord.
Voldemort laughed mercilessly as he batted their spells aside, as if they were nothing. A jet of green ended the life of one of the Aurors.
The Dark Lord aimed at the other guard. "Imperio!" The guard's eyes glazed over as the spell took its effect. "Release my Death Eaters," he commanded.
The guard hastily removed a key from his robes and began opening cell doors. His task finished, the guard stood in front of Voldemort, as if waiting for his next command. "Avada Kedavra!" The guard crumpled to the floor, as prisoners began emerging from their cells. "Antonin, Bella. At last, we meet again."
"My Lord," Bellatrix said, falling to her knees in front of Voldemort, "I knew you would come for us."
Voldemort ran a long forefinger down his most devoted servant's cheek. "Assistance will always be given to my most faithful."
Harry sat at the table in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, at his first official meeting of the Order of the Phoenix.
"An incident occurred at the World Cup," Dumbledore explained. "Harry was attacked by a member of Voldemort's forces."
Immediately, the murmur of whispered conversations became overwhelming.
"After reviewing Harry's memory of the incident, I have determined the attacker to have been Bartemius Crouch Junior."
The whispered conversations became much louder.
"But Albus," said Molly Weasley, "He's dead."
"I was under that impression as well. How he has survived is a mystery, but we must assume that he was acting on the orders of his Master."
"How do you know that for sure, Albus?"
"I fear the attack was meant as a diversion. The Ministry has not yet realizedthis but thanks to Severus," he said, pointing in Snape's direction, "we have discovered that the Dark Lord led an attack on Azkaban."
Most of the individual conversations stopped at Dumbledore's revelation.
"Due to the attack at the World Cup, the Ministry removed most of their Aurors from the island, and left it guarded by a very small contingent of new recruits and the dementors, who allowed the Dark Lord to free his servants."
"Who escaped?" asked one of the older members.
"The most notable escapees are the Lestranges and Antonin Dolohov."
The previous whispering returned with fervor, and Dumbledore took a moment to regain the silence.
"Sirius," he said, "You will need to be more careful. The Ministry will likely blame you for the breakouts."
The meeting concluded a short time later, and Harry was asked to stay behind.
"Harry," Dumbledore began, "Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year. Have you heard of it?"
Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. But wasn't the Tournament cancelled?"
"Indeed it was, but the Ministry has decided to restore it."
"Why haven't I heard about this before?" Harry asked.
"It is a very tightly kept secret. I only mention it to you now, because Voldemort has ordered Severus to enter your name."
"What should I do, sir?"
"That decision belongs to you. If you choose to compete, you will be put in a considerable amount of danger, though I am sure you are capable of handling anything the Tournament has to offer. The real threat would be whatever Voldemort has planned, and I will do everything in my power to ensure your safety. If you compete, Severus' position as a spy will be secured. If you choose not to compete, you will be safe- as safe as you have always been, that is, but Severus' position would be compromised."
Harry briefly considered his options. "I'll do it. The risk is work keeping a spy in his ranks."
"I agree with your reasoning. We will keep you safe, Harry. This year, I will be instructing you."
Daphne Greengrass had done what she promised herself she would not do. She had communicated with Harry Potter. She did not regret her decision, because he would have been killed if she had not acted, and she refused to allow him to be hurt, even if she would not speak to him.
As soon as she saw that he was safe, she had left. She was impressed by his reaction, and the amount of raw power he put behind his spells. The curse he struck his attacker with had destroyed his shield, as if it were not even there.
Daphne knew she was a talented witch, but realized that she could not hope to match him in a duel. She did not think anyone in Slytherin could match him in terms of power.
She almost hoped that Draco would be foolish enough to pick a fight with him, though she would have to hurt Draco for attacking Harry.
Harry was making progress with his Occlumency lessons. Snape was still able to briefly view his memories, but he was able to clear his mind more quickly as their lessons progressed. He still struggled with keeping his mind clear of emotions effortlessly. He had to apply a conscious effort, so he was unable to repel Legilimency attacks when he was not expecting them.
Snape was hopeful that he would be able to shield his mind from attack before he encountered Voldemort again.
Voldemort stood before his Death Eaters, and smirked triumphantly as he saw that his Inner Circle had been completely reunited. He faced Snape and said, "Harry Potter's involvement in the Triwizard Tournament is critical to our plans. You must not fail."
"I will succeed, my Lord."
"The Third Task is when we shall strike." Snape nodded his head. Voldemort turned to the man who had most recently rejoined his ranks. "Barty Crouch Junior," he said, shaking his head, "You were reckless, irresponsible, and you attempted to kill that which is mine to kill."
Crouch groveled in front of his Master, begging for mercy. He grimaced in pain at the sudden movement- the bleeding from his fight with Potter had been stopped, but the wound had not been healed.
"Nevertheless," Voldemort continued, "Your attack, unwanted as it was, succeeded in weakening the defenses of Azkaban. The benefits were not intended, but they cannot be discounted. You will not be punished."
"Thank you, Master."
Voldemort turned to Lucius to make his next command. "Our eventual plans for the English Ministry will be more feasible after we have taken control of the French Ministry. Speak with your French contracts, Lucius."
Voldemort knew that Dumbledore would not allow the English Ministry to be taken control of directly. The two sides were, at the moment, evenly matched, and he did not dare make such a risky move.
The support of the French Ministry, after he had taken control of it, would give his campaign against the English Minsitry legitimacy, and that would greatly limit Dumbledore's options.