AN Disclaimer Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling I own nothing. This is fanfiction, I make no money out of this whatsoever. Now that's out of the way...

Chapter 35 – The Third Task

All too soon the third task arrived and it was a very nervous Harry Potter that made his way slowly down to the Quiddich Pitch, his family surrounding him. Although intellectually he knew that he had prepared for this task just as thoroughly, if not more so than he had done for the previous two tasks and they had both turned out alrifooght he couldn't stop the feeling of dread and nervousness which rose up inside him, almost choking him with its strength.

Reaching the field, Remus, Andromeda and Tonks all hugged him before retreating up to the family gallery in the stands. Harry watched them go, his heart thudding painfully against his rib cage, during the day he had been able to pretend that there wasn't a task coming up, that he wouldn't have to go outside that evening and risk his life for the enjoyment of the wizarding population but seeing his family head up to the stands had just hammered it home to him that the task was going to start in half an hour and he didn't feel even remotely ready.

A comforting hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts and he glanced up to meet a pair of slate grey eyes. "It will be alright Harry," Sirius murmured, his own voice betraying the concern and worry he felt, "You've prepared really hard and there will be several of us patrolling the edge of the maze, if anything goes wrong it will be sorted out quickly and no matter what happens we will keep you safe."

Harry swallowed hard, unable to look up and meet his father's gaze. Above him he heard the man sigh and he found himself being gently steered to a corner of the arena, out of sight from the gathering crowds. Once he was there he was pulled back against a strong chest and he felt his father's arms wrap around him even as Sirius rested his chin on top of the messy black head.

He relaxed almost instantly, it was difficult to hold onto his fear when he was cocooned in his father's arms but even that didn't remove the gnawing fear in the pit of his stomach. He felt Sirius's hand rub soothingly along his arm, "I know you are frightened Harry," Sirius said softly, "I'm frightened too but you will survive I promise you that. It will be over soon, you're nearly there and as soon as this task is finished the tournament will be over. There is nothing else they can make you do."

Harry stayed silent for several more minutes, just absorbing the comfort his father provided but eventually Sirius released him, "Come on pup, it starts in ten minutes," he said quietly. Harry just nodded, his nerves kicking in hard but it had helped. Sirius was right, he'd get through this just like he'd done on the other two tasks and then it would be over and he'd be free of the stupid competition.

They walked back out into the main part of the arena and Harry could see the other three champions standing with the judges. Bagman's face was creased with worry but the worry evaporated as he spotted Harry and he started to hurry towards them. Sirius squeezed his shoulders gently, "I think that's my cue to go," he said lightly and Harry attempted to smile but it was rather strained. His father noticed this and rubbed one hand across his shoulders reassuringly, "You will be absolutely brilliant," he said quietly, his voice thick, "But just remember I am incredibly proud of you."

The smile that faced Sirius now wasn't strained and the man smiled as reassuringly as he could down at his child, giving his shoulders one last squeeze before he headed up to the viewing stands. He had applied to be one of those patrolling the maze but as Harry had been selected as champion he had been rejected on the grounds that his presence could confer an unfair advantage to Harry and there would be the large possibility that he would cheat or try to help.

Silently Sirius acknowledged that they had a point. If he had been patrolling the maze and he had seen that his son was in danger and needed help he would have acted immediately, tournament rules be damned. He had tried not to show it earlier, he knew Harry had needed the reassurance desperately and he wouldn't have helped his son if he had added his own fears to the burden his son was already carrying but he was extremely nervous when it came to this task.

The third task was historically the most dangerous, and the vast majority of fatalities had occurred during the third task. He knew that the Ministry was trying to make sure these games were not deadly but he didn't trust the ministry as far as he could throw them. The whole body was filled with incompetents and idiots and the few in that body who were genuinely competent were outnumbered vastly by those who weren't or those who were competent but corrupt. Heck their incompetence had already been shown in the fact that his son had been entered into this farce in the first place and although he knew just how well prepared Harry was, he knew just how hard he had practiced he couldn't shake the deep feeling of foreboding that something was going to go wrong.

A touch on his arm startled him out of his thoughts and he jerked his head up to meet the amber gaze of a concerned werewolf. "I'm fine Moony," he said quietly. Remus just snorted,

"Of course you aren't," he rejoined immediately, "You are anything but fine and any fool can see it, even the idiot of our minister could notice that." Against his will his lips twitched upwards although the moment of levity was brief. "It's your child out there," Remus continued, his voice soft, "And he's competing in a tournament that's claimed lives. Of course you're terrified for him, any parent would be and you are the most doting parent a child could have. If you weren't sitting there worried out of your mind I'd have already gone to Poppy to find out if an overdose of calming potions requires any special medical interventions."

Sirius's lips twitched again, even as he kept his eyes fixed on the slight figure of his son as he stood before the Ministry representatives as they presumably went over the rules for this particular task. Inwardly he thanked his old friend. He didn't know how the werewolf managed it but he had been able to lighten the worry slightly, not remove it by any means but make it that little easier to bear simply because he hadn't tried to remove it, he knew full well that Sirius would be frantic until the task was over but he had let him rationalise it and accept it.

It was obvious that they had finished instructing the champions as the four of them separated, all moving to stand in front of one of the golden gates which were the entrances to the maze. Suddenly Ludo Bagman's voice crackled into the arena. "Welcome to the Third and final Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. As you all can see our four champions have to navigate the maze with the first one to the cup in the centre being named the Tri-Wizard Champion!" There was a roar of approval from the spectators but Sirius's ignored it, all of his attention fixed on his son.

"The points stand thus," Bagman's magically amplified voice boomed out across the arena, "Miss Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons Academy, 63 points! Mr Victor Krum of Durmstrang Institute 82 points, Mr Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 82 points and finally Mr Harry Potter also of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 91 points!" The roar that greeted this statement was the loudest yet and Sirius felt pride well up inside him at the thought of what his child had accomplished.

The pride however was swept away and replaced with fear at Bagman's next words. His child would be going into the maze first and it was only his friend's and cousin's presence at his side and the knowledge that if he interfered now, before the third task had started and pulled Harry out, he would be responsible for his child losing his magic. It didn't stop him from digging his nails into his palms though as he clenched his fists hard enough for his nails to draw blood, his face taut with worry as he heard the gong sound and his child entered into the maze.

The instant he stepped into the maze the gate behind him slammed shut and abruptly all sound from the stands cut off. More than a little disconcerted Harry started to walk forwards cautiously, his wand already out and ready. He didn't care that he might be affectively forfeiting the cup, he didn't want to be in this dratted tournament anyway and he certainly didn't care whether he won or not, his primary concern was staying alive and not making a fool out of himself. He knew that the maze couldn't be as simple as just navigating it, there had to be traps scattered throughout and he dreaded to think what sort of creatures he might have to face especially if Hagrid had contributed. He loved the half-giant but he really didn't have much idea of what was dangerous for a normal human.

Get a grip, he told himself firmly, you are in the maze there is nothing you can do about it and panicking will not help. There will be creatures and traps there is nothing you can do about it but you are going to face them and survive. You've done it before against far worse creatures and traps that will be here; nobody in this tournament intends to kill you.

With that thought firmly in his mind he started to move at a light jog, his eyes flicking warily, constantly checking the surroundings for any sign of danger, his wand swivelling to face a potential threat at every sound.

It was dark inside the maze, and his lighted wand tip was the only thing shedding light into the gloom but there was only so far that the light could reach. Beyond his small sphere of protective light the gloom pressed in looming over him even as the tall hedges rose up, towering about him and pressing in all sides, choking in their oppressiveness. The air was still, completely devoid of movement or life, with not even a breath of wind to disturb the silence. Despite being surrounded on all sides by breathing hedges the maze felt dead. Nothing stirred and nothing would ever stir. He was the intruder here and he felt like the maze was silently warning him. Go back, go back, go back.

The harsh rasp of his breathing and the crunch of his feet on the dying grass were the only sounds in the gloom and he was painfully aware that any creature would easily be able to hear him coming, that even if he placed a silencing spell on himself he still would be able to be heard because the dead blades cracked and snapped with every step he took.

Harry was also uncomfortably aware that his wand was currently his only source of light and if he encountered anything that required him to cast spells he would be operating entirely in the dark. He slowed and then stopped his mind racing furiously. Being in the dark against and unknown trap or creature would put him at a huge disadvantage and trying to use his wand to create light would leave him vulnerable and unable to defend himself and that was a risk he couldn't take.

Frowning heavily he racked his brains looking for anything that could possibly help him when suddenly it came to him. In their first year Hermione had conjured flames which she kept in a glass jar and that didn't need to be cast continuously. The only problem was that he didn't have a glass jar and he had nothing to transfigure into one, and conjuration of solid objects had not yet been taught in transfiguration or by Sirius, understandably it hadn't been top on their priority list.

So that idea wouldn't quite work, however the concept was sound. Suddenly an idea came to him and he crouched down his hands scrabbling across the ground. There were several tense moments before his fingers finally closed on the object he had been seeking, a small pebble. It wasn't much but he knew he'd be able to transfigure it into what he needed. A few seconds later a small and slightly lopsided lantern took the pebble's place. He grimaced, it wasn't perfect but it would do. For good measure he cast an unbreakable charm on it before a small spray of flames jumped out of his wand and into the lantern, immediately casting light throughout the surrounding area.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, and another scrabble across the ground revealed another pebble, this one being transfigured into just under a meter of rope. Passing it through the loop at the top of the lantern he tied the rope securely around his middle. He checked it over once before nodding in satisfaction, he had a source of light that left his hands and wand free to fight and cast, that was something that was going to be very useful.

Satisfied that everything was in place he started to jog again, using the point-me spell at every intersection he came to as he went deeper and deeper into the maze. He was beginning to be concerned that there weren't any traps; it couldn't be so simple as to be just a maze could it? The instant that thought entered his head he immediately rejected it, the Wizarding World liked their sport, he'd seen enough of that during this thrice damned tournament and he knew that they would not be satisfied with a non lethal maze.

It made him sick. A world that got its entertainment from watching children risk their lives and a society where the upper echelons looked down on anything or anyone that was not 'pureblood'. It was cruel, barbaric and disgusting but he reminded himself forcibly that that was only the bad in the Wizarding World, along with awful pain, suffering and cruelty there was also beauty, love and friendship. And he was not going to stand by and let the darkness win. He'd fight it with everything he had and he knew that it might take his lifetime but things would change.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a sudden coldness. It seeped through his bones and suddenly in the back of his mind the screaming started. It was quiet at first but it was getting louder and louder. He knew what it would say, he'd heard those words, repeated them thousands of times in his mind and he knew there was only one creature that forced him to relive those memories.

His hand shaking, he raised his wand. It didn't matter that he could cast a patronus; it didn't stop the dementors from affecting him before he could cast it. Gritting his teeth he forced the words out, "Expecto Patronum!" Bright silver light poured out of his wand and instantly the coldness vanished as his patronus charged into the dementor, knocking it backwards as it rammed into the foul creature.

The creature let out a howl of agony as the pure form of light and goodness slammed into it. A dementor would always flee from a patronus but here in the maze, in the enclosed space it had nowhere to turn. The touch of something so pure was poison to it and it screamed out its agony and fear to the skies.

Harry's bones turned to lead and he took several fumbling steps backwards his hands automatically coming up to his ears to try and save them from that terrible sound but even with his fists screwed tight against his ears there was nothing that could block out that awful sound. He dropped to his knees, his wand slipping from numb fingers but the spell had been cast and his patronus harried the dementor as its scream rent the sky.

Finally it was over. Throughout it all his flame had never flickered out and he reached out with trembling fingers to grasp his wand, grateful for the pool of light it provided before he cautiously raised his head and looked at the scene before him, the dementor's death cry still haunting his ears. When he did so he almost dropped his wand again in shock. He hadn't seen his patronus clearly when he had cast it, the light had been too strong and his mind had been occupied by the dementor's cry no more than a second later but what he could see now stole his breath.

Before he'd only had one animal but looking at them now the shinning silver stag that represented his first father stood proudly, as if it were guarding him while its companion, a large silver dog that looked identical to Sirius's animagus form looked at him proudly even as he could see it stood ready to attack should another threat arise. Harry stared at them, his throat too choked to speak, not that he thought he'd be able to find any words.

Slowly his gaze drifted downwards. All that remained of the dementor was a shapeless and torn black cloak. It was almost comical. The most feared creature in the Wizarding World had been reduced to nothing more than a ripped and tattered old cloak that lay in a heap on the ground. It felt almost anticlimactic in a way, but then he remembered the awful screaming and he shuddered.

Pulling himself together he stepped over the filthy piece of cloth, patting each of his patroni in turn and watching as they faded from view. Adrenalin was pumping through his system and he held his wand firmly in front of him. He'd encountered the first trap, now all he had to do was survive long enough to get to the cup or for another contestant to reach it and for the task to end.

It seemed that he had entered into the area that was filled with traps because he hadn't passed more than one intersection before he came face to face with another threat, although this time he just stared at the trap before him in bemusement. It was obviously a trap, it couldn't be anything else but he had never seen a silver mist that hung, almost harmlessly in the air before.

Biting his lip in concentration he sent one of the ward detection spells he had learnt whilst working on the egg at it only for the spell to pass straight through. He almost took a step back in shock before he composed himself and forced himself to think about this logically and rationally. It obviously was not something that could move to attack him seeing as he had been standing here for a few minutes and it had done nothing and it was not a ward of any kind because it had not responded to the detection spell, in fact he'd be willing to bet it wouldn't respond to any other spells, seeing as his first had just passed harmlessly through.

He narrowed his eyes and shot another detection spell at it, followed by a banishing charm to see if anything would happen but both spells passed harmlessly through. That confirmed his thoughts; whatever it was couldn't be affected by magic. But that didn't mean physical objects would have an effect. Quickly he turned to the hedge beside him and with a quick tug he pulled of a fist of leaves and a twig. A quick banishing charm sent the objects flying through. Nothing happened to them. That therefore meant whatever that mist did had to be mental.

Gritting his teeth Harry pushed his occulmency barriers up to the maximum before stepping into the mist.

His hands flew to his eyes, everything had suddenly gone dark, and every single sound, the rustle of the leaves in the hedges, the sound of his footsteps and even the harsh rush of his breathing and the thumping of his heart had abruptly vanished. A sense of loneliness began to grow in the back of his mind, quickly consuming everything else. Robbed of sight, smell and sound he was completely alone, trapped.

It bore down on him, an awful crushing weight, he was alone, trapped and there was nothing he could do. What was the use in going on, what was the use of the tournament when all he was alone and would always alone. Voices pressed in on him from all sides. Alone, alone, alone they chanted, the volume rising and rising until it drowned out everything else. He felt despair fill him but a quiet voice in the back of his mind started up. "You aren't," it said.

Instantly the voices responded, "Alone, alone, alone," they hissed, "Abandoned, worthless, nothing and alone."

But the voice was not silenced, if anything it was gaining strength, "You aren't," it whispered, "You've got Ron, Hermione, Neville, Susan, Hannah, Fred, George," with every name it spoke the voice became louder, slowly pushing the other whispers away as it continued to list, "Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley, Andromeda, Tonks, Remus." It was right Harry decided suddenly, the voice was right, he wasn't alone and he hadn't been alone at any point in the last year. As the final name was spoken, this time a roar in his ears he stepped forward and fell onto solid ground.

Harry pushed himself shakily to his feet, Sirius's name still ringing through his mind, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Clambering to his feet, he took several deep breaths, to help regain his composure and glancing back at the innocuous looking mist he broke into a jog but he hadn't gone more than a hundred meters before a scream rent the air.

It wasn't from a dementor but the sound made Harry's blood run cold. It was from one of the other champions; almost certainly Fleur and he knew it meant she was in trouble and almost certainly fighting for her life. That realisation crashed down on him, somewhere in that maze, Fleur was in danger and there was nothing he could do to help. He didn't know the girl well but he knew that she did not deserve to be badly injured or to die.

He stood there frozen, his heart hammering against his ribs until he saw red sparks burst into the sky from the area the scream had originated from. He didn't know what state she was in but she had sent up red sparks so she was alive and she would recover. He knew from first-hand experience that Madam Pomfrey was able to deal with all manner of life threatening conditions and injuries.

He swallowed hard to remove the lump in his throat before he continued warily. Her scream had unsettled him more than he was letting on and it thrust home the uncomfortable realisation that he was indeed fighting for his life and that this tournament had claimed lives.

Abruptly he pushed those thoughts away, it would do nothing but distract him and he was still in the maze where any distraction could land him with a major injury or worse. He held his wand out in front of him unwaveringly as he proceeded cautiously through the maze, immensely grateful for the light shining brightly from his transfigured lantern.

The traps were coming thick and fast now and he could barely travel twenty meters before he encountered a new threat. Gritting his teeth together hard he faced every single threat patiently as he went deeper and deeper into the maze. The traps may have been more frequent but they were easy enough to deal with, a boggart was nothing compared with a real dementor and the few basic wards he encountered he had been easily able to bypass with a variety of the ward detecting spells his father had taught him and brute force, and even the Devil's Snare he had encountered hadn't been much of a challenge, the light from his lantern had already been driving it back and a burst of flame had sent it scurrying for the shadows.

But the current obstacle though...

"Um could you please repeat that?" He asked nervously. The Sphinx blinked slowly, staring down at him with golden eyes that were slanted in amusement and spoke once again,

"I am the beginning of sorrow and the end of sickness,

You cannot express happiness without me,

Yet I am in the midst of crosses,

I am always in risk but never in danger,

You may find me in the sun, but never out of darkness,

What am I?"

Harry frowned as he thought about the riddle, "And I have to answer correctly in order to pass?" The Sphinx just nodded and Harry started pacing muttering to himself as he contemplated the riddle.

"Risk and danger are basically the same thing so it can't be a thing or an object, if you are in risk you are in danger so it's got be something more obscure and not an object. That's no use. Beginning of sorrow and the end of sickness – death, no it can't be death because death isn't happy and can't be at risk, and anyway it can't be a thing or a person." Harry continued to mutter for several more minutes, wishing that Hermione were here, he knew that his friend was excellent at solving puzzles of any form and he wasn't, or at least puzzles that involved logic of any form, crazy leaps from scraps of evidence – he could certainly do that but that wasn't any use here.

The sphinx was becoming impatient. Harry could see her tail lashing from side to side. He had just about made up his mind to go another way and try to avoid her when the answer struck him.

"The letter s!" He cried out, "It isn't any sort of object at all, it's just the letter!" The sphinx nodded slowly before rising to her forepaws and letting Harry move quickly pass. With a word of thanks he ran past her, not eager to stay in the same vicinity as an exasperated or bored sphinx, Ron had told him several tales from Egypt about what could and had been done by Sphinxes in the past and he had no intention of staying around to see if those stories were true.

He hadn't gone more than another fifty meters before a bloodcurdling scream rent the air, this one far close than the scream he had heard earlier. Harry froze, and the scream came again, and underneath the sound he heard a cry that he had hoped never to have to hear again. "Crucio!"

He didn't stop to think. His wand slashed downwards a thin stream of fire searing from its tip. The hedges were no match for the onslaught and they parted quickly, branches and leaves crumbling to charcoal as the flames licked hungrily at the dry tinder. Harry forced himself through the gap, he knew the cry had come from nearby, his feet pounding on the grass, not even attempting to conceal his presence.

The scream came again, it was just up ahead and he burst round the corner to see the figure of Krum standing over Cedric, his wand raised and the incantation on his lips. Harry acted purely on instinct, he didn't even know what spell had had cast but a second later Krum was on the floor, lying motionless. Harry spared a single glance at him, just to check his spell hadn't hurt him and that he was still breathing before he hurried to the Hufflepuff Champion's side.

"You alright there Cedric?" The instant he asked the question he knew it was stupid, nobody was going to be alright after having been hit by the cruciatus, he'd only seen it performed on a spider, but that one demonstration had been enough to show him that conclusively.

The taller boy was pushing himself shakily to his feet, "I'll be fine," he answered, his voice cracked. Harry just nodded, not really knowing what to say to him next, or what would even be sensible to say.

"I never thought he'd do something like that," Cedric remarked quietly, "I mean he seemed a decent enough chap, a bit aloof and competitive but not really into torturing." The silence fell for another long moment.

"We'd better send sparks up," Harry volunteered, "Nobody deserves to get eaten by whatever pets Hagrid put in here." Somewhat to his surprise Cedric nodded instantly, and at Harry's look he elaborated,

"I ran into one of those Skrewts earlier." They exchanged a grimace at the thought of those monsters, before Cedric sent up red sparks. They looked at another suddenly a little out of place and unsure. They had been working together but now they were competing against one another as enemies once again. A quick glance back told Harry that his fire had been controlled, or at the very least wasn't spreading so he exchanged a tight smile with the other champion before vanishing down a path that led deeper into the heart of the maze.

It was getting darker and the traps were becoming fewer, although each traps was more deadly than the last. He was nearly there, Harry could feel it. Soon he would be there and this entire nightmare could end and he'd be free of this awful tournament. He turned a corner abruptly and suddenly he came face to face with a long straight path, the hedges towering above him on either side. It was unlike anything he had seen before in the maze and he knew then suddenly that he had almost made it.

He broke into a quick jog, wanting nothing more to get to that cup and for the tournament to be over. It happened so quickly and so slowly at the same time. One instant he had just run out of the hedgerows into a large clearing, and his eyes vaguely registered Cedric appearing from another opening, and the next his wand was up and casting, incantations screaming from his lips as a large acromantula burst out of the foliage to land in front of him, pincers clicking menacingly as it advanced.

He cast frantically, knowing that Cedric was doing the same but it didn't make any different, the spells barely seemed to slow the creature as it advanced. It was getting closer, it could almost touch him. Harry yelled out a spell, but the stunner just bounced harmlessly off the creature's hide and the next second he was airborne, the spider's pincers sinking deep into his side.

Cedric was screaming something but Harry couldn't hear him through the blood pounding in his ears. The spider's venom seared his side, nowhere near as potent as the basilisk venom but that didn't stop it from burning in his veins. The older boy's spells splashed harmlessly against the spider's side and with a sudden moment of crystal clarity he knew he had just moment to escape and with that sudden blinding certainty came the knowledge of the one last thing he could try.

Pushing his mind away from the pain he focused on his wolf form. It was the hardest transformation he had even done but a fraught second later he was a wolf and he slipped through the spider's pincers, the creature unprepared for his sudden shape-change, falling to the ground in a heap. Pain streaked through him but he battled to his feet knowing he had precious few seconds to attack, and if the spider caught him again he wouldn't have a second chance.

He lunged upwards, fangs sinking into the soft underbelly of the monster. Hot blood filled him mouth and it took all his willpower not to turn away and gag but he held grimly on, his fangs sinking deeper into the creature's unprotected underside. The acromantula let out a shriek and it shook itself violently. Harry didn't have enough strength to hang on and he flew across the clearing landing hard on his side, letting out a gasp as he lost his grip on the transformation and blurred back into his human form, his hands automatically going to his side and to the deep gouge the spider's pincers had left in his side, even as his hands still clutched convulsively to his wand.

Cedric has seized the opportunity and a red stunner streaked past him, impacting the monster in the precise place Harry's fangs had sunk mere moments before. This spell struck true and with a horrifying wail the creature collapsed, its body crashing down mere meters from where Harry lay.

There was a beat of deep silence then the older boy hurried over to Harry his expression fearful. His expression changed to a grimace as he noticed Harry's position. Even though Harry had managed to drag himself upright he could feel the wound throbbing in his sides. The pincers had not got through to the bond thankfully but the gashes were still bleeding fiercely and obviously visible through the bloodstained rips in his robes.

Harry saw Cedric's expression blanch and he looked at him confused for a second before he realised that despite being a champion this was probably the first time that the older boy had seen anyone so badly injured. Harry had grabbed a fist of his torn robes which he'd pressed over the wounds as a makeshift bandage, it wasn't doing that much good but it was better than nothing, especially when he didn't know any healing spells. The wounds themselves wouldn't be fatal, they weren't too deep but the main problem was the venom, however it was far less potent than the basilisk venom had been and Harry was confident that it would be several hours before he was in danger, and that was if the phoenix tears in his blood had lost all their potency.

He saw Cedric swallow hard then with a wave of his wand a wad of cloth appeared in the air. Harry accepted the cleaner and far more effective bandages with a nod of thanks, fastening them securely around his ribs and pulling himself to his feet with a groan. "I've had worse," Harry said a touch too flippantly as the older boy looked at him concern in his eyes.

He sensed rather than saw Cedric swallow at that comment, "I'd hate to see what worse looks like," the older boy joked weakly, "That looked pretty bad to me and I've heard their venom is nasty."

Harry shrugged, "Basilisk is worse believe me." Cedric didn't know how to respond to that statement and silence fell as the two boy's gazes turned to the cup sitting innocuously in the centre of the clearing. It was obvious that the acromantula had been the last line of defence. The silence stretched for several beats before Harry finally spoke. "You take it."

Cedric's head whipped around to stare at him in shock, "What?" he managed.

Harry shrugged, "You take it," he repeated, "I'm not supposed to be in this tournament anyway and I've no hope of winning any race like this." He waved one hand at his bandaged side, whilst the wound was deadly it was certainly painful and it would hamper his movement. He waited for the older boy to walk forward but Cedric was already shaking his head.

"No," he said with quiet conviction, "You should take it. If it hadn't been for your actions earlier I wouldn't be standing here now and I'd have never got past that acromantula if you hadn't wounded it."

Harry sighed loudly, frustration beginning to well up inside him, "I'm not even a proper Champion," he burst out, "You've helped me too, I wouldn't have been able to get past that wretched spider on my own either so just call it even and take the damned trophy."

"You helped me in the maze and you told me about the dragon," The Hufflepuff said firmly, "It's yours."

Harry was about to retort when an idea struck him, "Together," he said quietly and Cedric's head whipped round to stare at him, "We'll take it together." A slow smile spread across the older boy's face as he nodded,

"Together," he agreed softly. Harry smiled at him, although it looked a bit more like a grimace as they made their way over to the cup and reached out a hand each. "One, two, three, NOW!" Cedric all but yelled the last word and as Harry's fingers touched the metal he felt the telltale hook of a portkey behind his naval as the world spun away into blackness.

Harry fell forward with a thud, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the rough ground. He'd never been good with portkeys and he winced as he straightened up, the rough landing having pulled on his still bleeding wounds. The only thing he was glad of was that his small lantern appeared to have made it through unscathed and it was still casting a flickering light over their surroundings.

His wand was in his hand before he could even think. He didn't know why but he felt extraordinarily exposed out here and something about this place made his skin crawl and as his gaze roved slowly over the broken graves and the lumps that might have once been angels but were now battered and broken with age he couldn't stop himself from wondering what was out there in the shadows, just beyond the reach of his faint light.

There was a crack of twig and Harry spun round, Cedric beside him, the older boy's eyes wide and frightened, the harsh rasp of their discordant breathing the only sound in the air. A shape was dragging itself out of the shadows and Harry heard a high thin voice speak.

"Kill the spare."

Harry stood frozen as the figure raised his arm and a blast of emerald death sped straight out of it. Cedric didn't move, too shocked and scared to run as the curse flew at him. It was only when the curse was a finger's breadth away from the older boy that Harry managed to act.

He flung himself sideways colliding with the older boy and sending them crashing to the ground. He couldn't tell whether Cedric had been hit or not and he had no time to think as the figure raised his wand again, the words of the death curse on his lips. Harry knew he was exposed and far too vulnerable here. Praying it was the right thing to do, he pushed himself away from Cedric, a raw throated yell erupting from his throat as he tried desperately to attract the figure's attention away from the prone figure of the Hufflepuff lying helpless on the ground.

It worked as the figure spun round, their wand already trained on Harry. He didn't wait for the figure to cast, diving behind a tombstone and rolling to break his fall. But the movement tore the gashes in his side open and he stiffened slightly, fighting with his now uncooperative limbs to pull himself to his feet and to evade the curse again. But the moment of hesitation was costly as a beam of red light slammed into his unprotected back and he slumped to the ground, his vision and mind black.

He came to with a gasp of pain. Ropes were fastened cruelly across his body, holding him sharply against the decaying stone of an ancient gravestone. He bit his lip hard as he felt a trail of pure agony stretch across his midsection where the bonds pressed against the fresh wounds. He pushed the agony as far away as he was able, he was not going to sit here helpless and at the mercy of his injury.

The figure appeared out of the mist and Harry growled low in his throat as he recognised him, "Wormtail," he hissed at the cowardly Marauder and he saw the man flinch backwards, obviously not expecting Harry to be conscious already. But in the next second Harry heard a voice he had hoped to never hear again in his life.

"It is nearly time Wormtail," The hissing sibilant voice echoed from what Harry had first assumed to be nothing more than a bundle of cloth but he realised with mounting horror that contained within the filthy bundle of cloth a small creature was stirring. It was a grotesque parody of a baby, and with an expression on its face no child should ever have, a mixture of bloodlust, savage glee and a gloating exultation. He knew what it was, he hadn't even needed the confirmation that the voice had provided and his entire being shied away from the abomination.

"Y-yes Master," Wormtail stuttered. A sudden stream of flame shot from his wand and the flickering glow of the flames illuminated the mist, casting gruesome shadows throughout the graveyard. Harry felt fear slip down his spine as he saw for the first time the cauldron that stood prominently between the headstones. Somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach he knew what he was about to watch but unlike the confrontation with Quirrel he was completely helpless unable to do nothing but watch as Wormtail approached the cauldron his hands trembling and dropped the creature, he couldn't call it a child, into the bubbling potion.

He had a sudden frantic wish that it would drown, that the abomination in that cauldron would never rise but even as he wished it, he knew it was hopeless.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given you will renew your son,"

The bone splashed into the cauldron and Harry could feel the magic rising in the small hollow, beating with the irregular pulse of a failing heart.

There was a flash of a knife blade and Harry bit back a cry as a jagged cut opened along his arm, the blood flowing freely onto the knife.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken you will resurrect your foe."

The beat grew stronger, the magic pulsing but Harry could feel the threat and the pain in the beat. This magic was Dark, a ritual that should never have seen the light of day. But as the beat swelled Pettigrew's voice faltered with the final step,

"F-flesh of the s-servant, w-w-willingly given you with revive your master," The blade glinted in the firelight and with one terrible realisation Harry knew what was going to happen before it did. The blade came down and there was an ear-splitting cry as Pettigrew's hand fell with a splash to the cauldron.

The magic roared, surging through him and Harry couldn't help but cry out as it tugged on him and his scar split open, agony shooting through his forehead. But even as he gritted his teeth and stared determinedly through the pain, a tall spectral figure rose out of the cauldron and stepped lightly onto the ground.

Lord Voldemort had risen.

And there we are. I am well aware it has been a long time and I apologise. In my defence I will say - a week in Sweden with no internet connection, a show the last two weeks and A Levels (NEWT's and the nastily exhausting bit definitely applies!). I hope this shows this is not abandoned but due to the reasons mentioned above and primarily the A levels updates will be slow until the 10th of June, so expect the next in around four weeks time, and an update to AGB in about two.

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this chapter and please review!