Whispers in the Night
Disclaimer: I'm just playing in JKR's sandbox and make no money from this. Please enjoy the story and feel free to leave comments and critiques, it's the only way to get better at this. I'm writing this story for my own enjoyment.
Content Warning: This story will contain mentions of abuse and scenes containing but not limited to swearing, violence, smut and other Adult Content.
Author's Note: 1. This was one of the most fun and frustrating chapters to write. I had a lot set up for the outline and ideas kept filtering in now and then. Editing felt like a crime but I think it came out just perfectly.
2. Recommendation: Another two-for is in order I think. HP & The Jade Dragon by Cragglerock82 is a fantastic story with lots of world building and exploration of different aspects of the wizarding world. It's been on my list of things to continue reading for a while and I highly recommend it. Defiance by Dark Lord Slytherin is turning out to be quite a good story. Go take a gander at Harry changing his life in some interesting ways.
3. As always, thank you to all readers, reviewers, followers and favorites. This has been an extraordinary run and I doubt it would be as amazing as it is without your input and support. Please, enjoy the latest chapter and let me know what you think!
Ahh… Ahah. Ahahaha. Ahahahahahahaha!
Chapter Forty-Nine: One Final Task
The low hum of an audience of thousands finding their seats and discussing the upcoming spectacle seemed to roar throughout the momentarily quiet room. Their parents and loved ones had just left. Harry and Fleur had seemed in a brief daze after four very thorough kisses for luck from Susan, Tracey, Daphne and Tonks. Only their parents' well-wishes had brought them out of their stupor.
It wasn't Amelia's words, however, that rattled around Harry's mind in those few moments of quiet.
You better win this lad, otherwise I'll find ye. And when I find you I'll shove my leg so far up your arse you won't know whether you're spitting or shitting. You're minutes, maybe hours away from ending this: So end it. You're a Survivor, lad. Show those fucking wankers you won't go quietly. End it on your terms or not at all. And when you do get back, you and I are going for drinks whether Amy bloody well likes it or not.
Harry chuckled to himself. "Alastor certainly has a way with words."
"That he does," Fleur responded more slowly. "But I appreciate his candor."
"Only because you enjoy his cursing."
"Oui, he has radically improved my vocabulary," the veela teased her boyfriend, a smirk on her lips. "As you know from this morning."
"Hearing you swear in English isn't nearly as sexy as when you're swearing in French," Harry responded with ease, a grin on his face. "That's when you make the worst of the world sound like sex."
Fleur ended up in a fit of chuckles at that while Poppy and Madame Maxine rolled their eyes at their prized students. Viktor and Cedric, tired of waiting on their own, or at least with their headmasters, joined the pair on the couch. Viktor took the arm of the couch on Harry's other side while Cedric sat next to Fleur more casually. The officials, Headmasters, Headmistress and Master, taking the hint their company wasn't required, moved to the side and began to discuss the task ahead and arrangements for after the completion of the tournament.
"So, this close to the end, hmm?" Cedric wondered aloud for them all.
"Is bittersweet," Viktor answered in his well-appreciated English, despite it not being perfect. "Good memories outweigh bad. Almost wish it would not end."
"You know it's funny, but I'm with you, Viktor," Harry replied more quietly than moments prior to the surprise of the room. "Despite being dragged into all of this, I've rather enjoyed the chaos of my life this year. Never thought when this started that I would enjoy it all."
"And yet it's almost over," Cedric sighed lightly.
"But what a year it's been, eh? Beautiful women have come into all of our lives, plus a tetchy git was tossed rather suddenly into Fleur's," Harry joked with the others until their laughter settled down. "I think I'll miss dinner with you lot the most. Going to Hogsmeade and singing Muggle songs like 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough' and 'Can't Buy Me Love' at the top of our lungs after a few too many Fiends."
Light laughter spread through the champions as they began to reminisce over the course of the year. Anecdotes of dates they had gone on with their girlfriends, or conversations they'd all had. They spoke of Christmas and the tasks, the competitions, little things the champions shared with one another. The more they reminisced, the more the rest of the world fell away as The Four Champions lived for the moment and enjoyed their friendship forged in dragon's breath and winter's chill.
"Oui, this has been a year I never want to forget," Fleur added with a small smile as their conversation slowed some as the hum of the crowd outside grew steadily louder.
"I don't believe we have to."
The curious looks on the faces of the other champions found their way to Cedric before they looked across the way to the tent. Xenophilius Lovegood had been allowed exclusive photos inside the tent. The four teens had never noticed the flashes of his camera. Even as they looked to him, they couldn't help but smile at the eccentric man.
"One more picture," Harry murmured as he eyed the Quibbler owner before he looked to the others. "One like the Wand Weighing."
"In that case, I think it's time we put these on," Cedric said as he held up a small bag.
Inside he revealed armbands, four for each of them to represent their unity and support for one another and their institutions: black and yellow for Hufflepuff, red and black for Durmstrang, blue and silver for Beauxbatons, and black and silver for the Healer Apprentice, each of them bearing the symbol of their institutes. The champions readily agreed and slipped them on their offhand arms, proud to support their dear friends. Though they were certain Xeno had gotten plenty pictures of them so far this evening, one more would hardly hurt, especially now.
The Four Champions took up a place in front of the exit and offered themselves to the camera. Harry stood next to Fleur, his hand intertwined with her own as she laid her head upon his shoulder. Cedric and Viktor stood behind them, their arms around one another as they leaned forward against their friends. Viktor set a hand on Fleur's shoulder and Cedric cheekily set his arm on Harry's shoulder, leaning on his slightly shorter companion.
It was a far cry from the picture almost eight months ago. Then they had stood mostly separate but for Cedric and Harry. Now, however, the four had come together beyond expectations, and despite all school rivalry and competition, they had succeeded where others could not. Their friendship went beyond country and class, and they all cherished the others. Little did they know that picture, along with another of them chatting happily on the couch would be framed within hours.
Moments later, the hum of the crowd had become deafening cheers as the Champions were called out, one by one to attend The Third Task. Harry stepped out first, his usual darker than black vest over his white button up shirt, his pants equally dark. Completing the ensemble was his dragonhide jacket, as dark and magnificent as ever as it bore his personal symbol on the back and lapels. The armbands did not go unnoticed, and though his was at the top, curiosity got the better of a few spectators as they watched closely.
Cedric entered the arena, his Hogwarts best on, his outer robe made of arcomantula silk, a gift from Harry, to help grant him some protection. The bands were upon his arm as well, though this time Hufflepuff was at the top. The trend was easily spotted by those who knew the champions and they only ended up cheering even louder.
When Fleur came out in her own modified Beauxbatons robes of acromantula silk to grant her extra protection, another gift or rather precaution that Harry had gotten for all of the champions, the crowd, mainly males, seemed to cheer even louder, especially considering beneath her outer robes the uniform was as form fitting and alluring as ever. She waved airily at them all, regal and powerful as ever as she stood beside her fellow champions, proud of not only herself, but them as well, her armbands set with Beauxbatons on top confirming the trend was real and not imagined.
Viktor, though he was last, was certainly not the least. His own robes, bearing fur, had been made from Cerberus hide and furs, a substance just as strong and sturdy as acromantula silk. He approached like any soldier ready for battle, though he too stood with pride beside the other champions, his armbands clearly on display with Durmstrang in the place of most importance. The cheers seemed to extend for some time, even as Bagman continued announcing.
"Together," Harry murmured to them just loud enough to be heard only by his fellow champions.
"Together," Viktor, Cedric and Fleur answered instantly.
When the cannon went off, Harry stepped up to the edge of the maze and took nary a single step in before he turned around. Tension rose and Bagman and Jorkins looked about ready to pop, as they expected him to send up sparks like he had threatened. Without hesitation he summoned his satchel, as the rules allowed it, and quickly put it on along with his other gear, though he turned around to hide where he put his knives. The screen tracking him for the spectators didn't display it either, and when he was finished he raised his wand.
Another collective breath seemed to be taken as the tip glowed red before he conjured a table and chairs, took out a deck of cards and began to shuffle them idly. Confusion ran rampant through the crowd until the cannon went off a second time. Harry instantly put the cards down and looked up as Cedric approached the table.
"To continue on this path you must answer me these questions three," Harry did in his best imitation of a certain crotchety bridge guardian. "What, is your name?"
"I am Cedric Diggory, Champion of Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," the blonde young man answered, trying his hardest to maintain a straight face as he recalled seeing that particular movie with Harry.
"What, is your quest?"
"I seek the Triwizard Cup."
Although cheers answered that response, confusion continued to settle upon the crowd, all but for the muggleborns and those more informed of the mundane world at least. They, of course, were barely containing their laughter.
"And finally, does Luna Lovegood?"
Cedric's back straightened and he had to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh, or to give harry a brief cussing out for asking that question. The boy glanced only once over his shoulder, clearly aware the world would hear his answer, including a rather interested Xenophilius whose eyebrow was raised almost impossibly high. His gaze landed on Luna, who gave him an expectant smile before Cedric turned his attention back to Harry.
"She loves very good."
"Ahhaaah! My questions are answered, you may pass." Harry theatrically stood and shrunk the table only for Cedric to round it, nudge Harry playfully then enlarge the table again and conjure his own chair. Harry, however, merely continued to shuffle the cards.
"I'm going to kill you for that."
"Not if Xeno kills you first."
"Xeno, hmm? Not Luna?" Cedric wondered out of curiosity.
"Nah, she loves you too much," Harry replied with a grin. "Though knowing her, she might just devise something weird to torment you with just for the sake of teasing you."
Cedric rolled his eyes, though that possibility was entirely believable. Not a minute later, Fleur approached just after the cannon burst once again. Cedric glanced to Harry curiously, wondering if Fleur would get the same treatment.
"To continue on this path you must answer me these questions three," Harry spoke without missing a beat. "What, is your name?"
"Fleur Delacour, Champion of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic."
"What, is your quest?"
"I seek the Triwizard Cup."
"What… lingerie do you intend to wear later?"
Fleur smirked, seductive and heady as she set her hands on the table and squished her breasts together between her arms as she leaned forward. "Who says I am not wearing it now?"
"Nobody!" Harry said, clearly imagining his girlfriend in lingerie, though he wasn't the only one, especially among their polyamorous relationship. "You may pass."
Just as before, Fleur took a seat with them, though it was one neither expected. Instead of conjuring her own seat, she quickly slipped into Harry's lap. His shuffling sufficiently stopped, Harry took hold of his girlfriend. Though he was tempted to run his hands over her and try to feel out the answer to his earlier question, he resisted that urge, barely. Fleur, of course, noticed and merely smirked at him as they awaited the final champion.
"To continue on this path you must answer me these questions three," Harry began once again as he looked up to Viktor when the final champion approached. "What, is your name?"
"Viktor Krum of the Durmstrang Institute."
"What, is your quest?"
"I seek the Triwizard Cup."
"Do you prefer riding a broom, or being ridden by Katie Bell?"
Viktor's jaw hardened for a moment, clearly imagining hitting Harry repeatedly with a bludger or perhaps a beater's bat on his and Katie's behalf, before he answered. "Katie."
The chaser in question blushed quite brilliantly, though taking a page out of Harry's book of theatrics, Viktor turned about, bowed low to his lady love and winked. It only made the girl blush further, but as Viktor turned back, the table and chairs had disappeared and the three other champions stood waiting. With a shared nod, The Four Champions marched their way deeper even as Viktor stepped up beside Harry and punched him in the shoulder.
"That is least you will get after we finish here."
"Only if you can catch me," Harry teased the older boy.
Viktor caught Harry in a brief headlock and scrapped his knuckles playfully along Harry's head, all the while the four laughed before they broke it up and began to prowl forward in earnest. Even just twenty feet in, Lilith's Lie was unnerving and drowning out some of the crowd. But then, that was part of the plant's slightly nefarious nature: Confuse, disorient and unsettle those around it until they fall into the trap and become dinner for an excruciatingly long time.
It was only a few turns in that the champions discovered their first obstacle. A large grey mass with a stinger and an ass-end that looked like a rocket. Cedric and Harry stared grimly at the beast while Fleur looked at it with thinly-veiled disgust. Viktor, however, had rarely encountered the beasts despite the Redbout's proximity to their pens.
"I'm going to kill Hagrid," Harry grumbled idly. "Makes us raise the damn things that are going to try and kill us."
"Not if I reach him first." Cedric's wand already glowed with power and after a spell struck its shell to draw the Skrewt's attention, he smirked. "Just aim your wands up and prepare a stunner."
Enraged at the sudden attack, the Skrewt seemed to chitter and screech before it blasted off toward them as fast as any seeker coming out of a dive. With reflexes honed from training, Cedric cast a spell at the ground and all three other champions watched as the skrewt flew along the ramp and over their heads. Spotting their opportunity, Harry, Fleur and Viktor quickly cast their stunners, multiple even until the skrewt fell a ways behind them. Dazed, but not down for the count, the resilient beast looked ready to burst again before the ground around it leaped up into a cage. In another moment earth had become iron and the beast struggled uselessly against its confinement.
Harry couldn't help but be impressed. Transfiguration like that took practice, and Harry had to wonder how much Amos had taught Cedric about containing creatures like that. The curiosity must have lingered on his face, because Cedric merely offered a charming grin before he gestured the way forward.
"Spells courtesy of being an assistant to McGonagall," Cedric answered once they started moving again. "Not to mention I'd seen father do something similar on the animal reserves. An erumpent was charging him and he and his squad had no choice but to stun it."
"I bet Hagrid will be asking you how to do that, now that he can use magic properly again," Harry told the Hogwarts Champion.
"I'd be glad to teach him if it keeps those things confined. Those Skrewts give me the creeps, not to mention they're a bitch to deal with in Care."
The champions shared a chuckle at that, but as they continued on the path a soft glow suffused the other end. Harry wondered just what it was before he figured it was some kind of ward or trap. While he had experience sensing magic, Lilith's Lie made it more difficult to discern without proper diagnostic charms.
"I will handle this," Fleur said with a small grin as she approached the glowing aura. "It is part of my expertise after all."
Unwilling to argue, let alone even hint at the barest whiff of a question on her competence in this field, the three young men left her to it. Which of course meant that Harry idly ogled her curves that he so often enjoyed pressed against him, while barely paying attention to what she was doing. As much as her magic might be interesting, in that moment, he wanted to relax. The Lie was getting to his senses, and a sense of normalcy, or perhaps distraction, would help him momentarily.
Fleur, on the other hand, went through her diagnostic charms with all due diligence, though she was rather quick with each spell. After barely three diagnostics and a bit of magical perception, she couldn't help but grin. She knew exactly the enchantment placed here and while she could break it, the easiest path would simply be to go through it. No need to waste magic when willpower alone would suffice.
"It is a disorientation enchantment, likely enhanced by Lilith's Lie," Fleur announced casually as she turned back to them. "Enter it and you will feel as if the world has been upended and one false move will throw you into the sky. More of a prank than anything… Something to slow one of us down if we were truly competing."
"But we are cooperating. So no worries about time," Viktor responded with ease as he stepped up. Within a moment he froze as the aura completely surrounded him. A wave of dizziness seemed to overcome him before he blinked and looked about. "It feels like… hanging under your broom… but with the sky above your head… More than a little unsettling."
With another step, Viktor seemed to shake his entire being before he turned around with a grin. "Interesting. Why not undo it, Fleur?"
"Because walking is easier than breaking it with magic." With two quick steps Fleur seemed to glide through the aura untouched and unaffected. Her balance seemed perfect and she winked back at Harry and Cedric who, deciding to make to quick, ran right through. For a moment both seemed to stumble until they righted themselves. Their sense of balance swiftly returned and Harry shivered for a moment.
"Ugh, hate that out of control feeling," Harry groused lightly. "I hope what we face next-"
The teen quickly cut himself of, however, when he noticed what lay ahead. Of all things a door stood before the four champions. More specifically, it stood in front of Harry who had stumbled furthest along the path. It seemed like any other door at first glance, until one noticed no less than seven locks, various scratches, dents, and chips in the paint, as well as a locked cat-flap. One lock clicked open and Harry's eyes widened as his hand shook slightly.
"Harry… isn't that."
"Yes."
"But I would have thought…" Cedric looked confused from Harry to the door as another lock unlatched itself. By now it was clear to him it was a boggart but it felt different. Something was wrong, very wrong, and Cedric wondered just what they were seeing.
"'Arry," Fleur whispered as she approached him. "It's just a boggart."
"I know."
"Then laugh at it," she whispered urgently. "Use riddikulus."
"There's nothing funny I can make up about that door or what's behind it."
Chuckling, deep, dark and not a little mad, echoed with the next lock. Harry's hand tightened about his wand and a fierce snarl ripped past his lips.
"You picked the wrong fear."
A bolt of green and silver left Harry's wand, a smoldering hole burnt through the door in an instantly only for a pair of glowing green eyes to peek from it.
"Just like me! Juuuust liiiike ME!"
Instead of a single bolt, a wave of terrible fire rolled through the air, incinerating all that got in its path. The most terrible, piercing cry any of them had ever heard wailed out of the boggart as it was torn and shredded apart before being consumed and devoured by flame. In another instant, the fire vanished and only the charred and smoldering earth and bushes lay in its wake as silvery smoke slipped into the air.
"Harry…"
"I'm fine, Viktor," Harry said in a much more calm tone than moments before. "Just a nightmare."
"…Of course," the Bulgarian stated as he pat the young man on the shoulder. "I'll take point."
"You do that," Harry answered automatically, staring intently at the black scorch on the ground as Viktor passed him by.
It didn't need saying that Harry appreciated Viktor's quiet support and his efforts to move beyond this. It didn't need to be explored, just passed by. With a glance to Cedric, the Hogwarts champion got the message and followed after a brief nod. When Fleur's hand briefly settled in his, Harry's gut unclenched and his wand sang a soft tune before he nodded.
"I'm fine."
"I know," Fleur said softly before she kissed his hand. "Let's keep going."
Harry almost breathed in relief that she didn't press things. Nightmares were always difficult to talk about, especially that one. In fact, Harry had never mentioned that particular nightmare, not to anyone. He had hoped it had gone away, but apparently it lingered still in the back of his mind. On the upside, however, he truly knew what his greatest fear was thanks to that boggart.
The champions walked in silence for a short time before Harry let his wand pulse with magic and sing. That the song of the phoenix wand, though much diminished in its effect compared to the true song of Fawkes or any other phoenix, could offer comfort and embolden them to some extent was a gift. Harry breathed a little easier as time went on, and the pace of the champions quickened.
"I hate the Lie," Viktor muttered moodily. "Even with song, it still creeps on my senses."
"I vote we burn it all to the ground when we complete the maze," Fleur suggested quite seriously, to which Viktor readily nodded. "It makes me feel… like someone's stalking me."
"Creepy," Harry drawled in a lighter voice as he glanced to the bushes. "But I agree. Let's burn it all down."
"Motion carried by unanimous vote," Cedric joked with his assent to the idea.
The bushes stirred and the wind itself seemed to whip and howl around them. Harry groaned for a moment as looked around at the hedges. "I think it heard us."
Viktor grunted, but before he could even raise his wand or signal anyone to run, a swarm of pixies rushed out from all sides. Harry, having seen Lockhart get thoroughly screwed over by merely a cageful of pixies, wondered just how many the sick fucks at the Ministry had set loose in here. If he had to guess, there was a whole damn colony, maybe two that had decided to work together. Wands flashed and cast spells to little effect, each only slicing one or two pixies until a primal roar escaped the tallest of the champions
Viktor's wand blazed with power and with a sudden flash every pixie was blasted back. "Run!"
Without needing to be told twice, all four champions rushed away just as the hedges began to lash out at them with vine and roots alike. They all were nearly tripped a few times, but each time Viktor seemed to spin and slash at the grappling vines even as the pixies rushed in. One pixie actually had the audacity to grab his wand, and with a smirk Viktor activated another spell.
In an instant the pixies and brushes froze, not just paralyzed in place by magic, but actually frozen solid by a wave so sharp it snapped around the champions with deadly chill. The hail of pixies that fell all around them made the champions shield from the attack, but the frosted and icy paths around them certainly spoke of the power the Bulgarian had put into his spell. Harry couldn't look anything but impressed at Viktor as he turned to the older boy.
"If you can't outrun them, freeze them to death?"
Viktor laughed at the apprentice's question. "Close enough. I needed a connection to the environment to properly focus the spell, the pixie provided that focus so it wouldn't harm you."
"Hell of a spell, regardless," Cedric said with some amazement. "Some sort of freezing enchantment, yeah?"
"Winter's Cascade from the Northern Lights Compendium," Viktor called it with a smirk. "Much more powerful than Glacius or Shiver's Dark Howl, and with focus, even more deadly. Those pixies are as frozen as dead bodies at north pole."
"Charming," Fleur drawled lightly at the thought. "They might make good food for the skrewt later."
"Ja," Viktor answered with a clipped laugh. "Let us move forward. We should be closing in."
After that it was a mad rush of creatures, enchantments, and attacks from the hedges the champions dealt with. Though they had thought themselves close, they had only breached halfway through the maze and hardly stopped fighting the entire time. Minor cuts, bruises and burns marked each of them as they worked together, fighting as a unit to see the end of the maze. Harry began to wave his wand about, spurring on the song again to ward off Lilith's Lie's effects once again whenever a lull in their conflict with the living maze came upon them. Each time the hedges shifted or looked about to act, each of the champions' wands glowed with power, ready to destroy the plants at a moment's notice.
"Can we just burn our way to the center?" Harry wondered petulantly after the third mad dash between killer hedges.
"Where's the fun in that?" Cedric asked. "This is a maze, it's supposed to be difficult and fun."
"Going through it the easy way would be fun for me. At least I would get to set things on fire," Harry offered with a shrug and a grin. "And don't say you wouldn't enjoy it either!"
"We already agreed to burn down the maze at the end, I think that goes without saying we would enjoy it, 'Arry," Fleur placated him. Harry huffed dramatically only for the other three to laugh until they reached what looked like an open space with a sphinx at the other end.
"As if I don't have enough riddles in my life," Harry joked lightly.
The sphinx, however, smirked. "The quickest way to the cup is through me. You can either answer a riddle, or failing that, try to fight past me. I warn you, however, it will not be easy. And should you fail at either task, you will need to go back and find another way."
Harry groaned lightly and shook his head. "Nope, I'm done. Here's the riddle of your place here, Sphinx."
Without so much as a warning, Harry froze the nearest section of Lilith's lie as thoroughly as possible before hitting it with a blasting curse. As the area shattered, and fell apart, Harry merely walked through it and repeated the process on a path further along the one the Sphinx blocked. After he stepped through it, the sphinx began to laugh and waved her hand.
"Clever is the one who finds ways through the problem, cleverer are those that avoid it all together," the woman-headed lioness answered. "You may pass, champions. My amusement has been sated. May the riddles of your live vex you no more... And may your one final task be successful."
"Bet the ministry's going to be happy with that," Harry muttered to the others, who chuckled appreciatively. As they turned to leave, Harry was the only one to look back at the sphinx. Its gaze was locked on him and for a moment Harry wondered if the sphinx knew more than it let on. At the creature's subtle nod and mysterious smile, Harry turned away, ready to be done with the task once and for all.
Mere minutes later a blue glow washed over their path, the source of which lay upon a pedestal at the very center of the maze. The triwizard cup was within their grasp now. They had accomplished the task together and though it had been difficult at times, it was made easier with everyone present. Harry would have breathed in relief, if he didn't hear the clicking that came from their right.
"Acromantula!"
Fire instantly rolled out of Fleur's left hand, burning a path toward the acromantula as spells washed over the creature from Cedric, Viktor and Harry. Only a moment passed before it screeched in an inhuman voice and leaped at them. Covered in flame and bleeding violent green gore, the acromantula lashed out at the group, seeking to crush and slice at any of them within reach. Harry narrowly dodged a swipe of one leg, though Cedric wasn't as lucky. His arm was slashed up the side and burnt closed by the flames that still engulfed the beast.
Sensing it had wounded its enemies, the acromantula stormed toward Cedric only for another wave of fire to envelope the beast. It screeched again before a third stream, then a fourth joined the other two. In moments the screeching died, and with it the acromantula as it flopped to the ground, burning and charring, smelling of the foulest concoction of putrid waste and gore imaginable. Harry nearly gagged at the smell before he covered his mouth with a conjured rag.
"I doubt Aragog will be happy with us," he coughed from behind his rag.
"Fuck Aragog," Cedric choked out with a hiss. "Damn thing tore my arm open."
"Good thing Harry summoned his satchel, then." Viktor pointed out as the champion's moved away from the burning corpse and closer to the Triwizard Cup.
"Oui, true enough, but we could wait until Mesdames Pomfrey and Tonks could treat him," Fleur added quickly.
"I'll trust Harry thanks," Cedric replied with a grimace. "I just want the pain to stop."
"Cedric, I'm touched."
Harry smiled, glad that Cedric was so confident in his abilities. As they settled in the center of the maze, Fleur and Viktor took up watch positions, searching for any creature as Harry worked on Cedric. Harry grimaced at the sight of the burnt-closed wound. He would have to re-open it and apply antiseptic. As Harry took out the bright blue bottle, Cedric grit his teeth and nodded as he bunched up his robe and stuffed some in his mouth.
"Won't hurt a bit," Harry told him as he prepared it. "Promise."
Cedric said something that Harry could swear was a muffled "Fucking Liar" before he growled in pain as Harry cut the wound back open and applied the potion and cleansed the wound. While there were spells for such a thing, potions were the best bet to ensure complete treatment in such cases. It was a ragged wound, hardly clean cut, and with the burn it only made things worse. A few moments passed before Harry smiled at Cedric, pat him on the good shoulder and began to knit the flesh back together as best he could.
Wounds Harry could handle. Spells and potions gone awry? Those were more tricky, and with good reason. Undoing a spell or potion that acted in an incorrect or modified way took skill, and while he was a talented young man, he was still learning that particular branch of magic with no little help from Poppy, Minnie, and even Flitwick on occasion. After a few minutes, Harry had Cedric's arm healed and bandaged with some scar-removal balm on it for good measure.
"Your bedside manner could use some work," Cedric teased him when Harry was finished.
"Fleur would disagree," Harry answered without missing a beat.
The pair snorted at the joke, and Fleur even grinned briefly before she raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend. Harry grinned unabashedly at her while Viktor shook his head.
"Let's end this, friends," the Durmstrang Champion announced. "Once and for all."
Harry and Cedric nodded, with the Healer helping his friend off the ground after feeding him a blood replenishing potion just to be safe. They all looked in pretty good shape. Fleur, Harry and Viktor all had minor cuts on their legs from the attack of the hedges, and Cedric had been the only really unlucky one. Even so, as they stood around the Triwizard Cup none of them could deny it felt god to be at journey's end.
"All for one?" Harry wondered as he raised his hand.
"And one for all," the other three answered as they touched all touched the cup…
Only to have their world thrown asunder all around them. While that had expected something to happen, they hadn't expected a portkey, or at least one that didn't last that long. What should have been a second long trip back to the start extended into three, then five, then ten as it broke through wards, travelled across Britain and expelled them all upon the ground roughly. The teens rolled to a stop, their bodies battered and bruised by the ground as they took stock of their surroundings.
Without missing a beat, Harry had his wand at the ready, magic already at work. "Move!"
His split-second warning saved them all from another blast. Magic rained on their positions as the four champions rolled and crawled out of the way. Harry's shields made just enough difference for them to regroup. Magic rushed toward them from three sides, bombarding the shields harry threw up until the Champions offered their own support as they clumped up around a series of graves that acted as a barricade.
"Potter!" A voice screeched from the shadows. "Give yourself up! There's no escaping us!"
Harry thought he recognized the voice as the magic halted, though the Champions' shields remained raised. "If you're who I think you are, you've made a very big mistake."
"Whatever it takes to avenge my brother, Potter," the female voice said with far more deadly certainty. "Whatever it takes."
"Adrian wouldn't approve, Alecto," Harry called back, clearly aware of who he was dealing with now. "You're disgracing your house and an alliance."
"Adrian was wrong to let those little sluts he calls daughters to agree to your bargain!" Alecto sniped at Harry as she finally came into the light glow of the triwizard cup. "My Master promised me your head when he's finished with it, and I intend to collect my reward for turning you over."
"I'm not sure I'm pretty or majestic enough for wall-mounting," Harry answered only to feel a pulse against his shield as a failed bombarda was flung high into the sky by it. "But I don't think your master will be pleased if you killed me before he got his use out of me. Isn't that right, Junior?"
"Ohh you are clever, aren't you?" the son of the recently disgraced and deceased former Head of Internal Magical Cooperation spoke up. As he entered the glow, he looked a right sight better than the memories Bill and Amelia had shown of him. He had ben healed, quite well in fact, but by who? To Harry's knowledge, no healers had gone missing and none were Death Eaters… Though that didn't mean one didn't sympathize with them. "How did you figure I was here?"
"Simple, Alecto isn't collected enough to hold off on revenge for nearly a year without someone holding her leash," Harry answered as calmly as he could manage, though inside he had started to worry. "Just a bitch in heat for murder and bloodshed who cried Imperius Defense when she had the chance."
Junior laughed while a scream of primal rage left Alecto. Another blast hit one of Harry's shields but it was only a glancing blow. For some reason, Harry thought Junior had something to do with that. Another growl echoed through the graveyard before hissing reigned further out.
"Our master grows impatient," a smooth drawl echoed out of the darkness. "Potter, you are our guest of honor for a very prestigious event. Give yourself up and the other… miscreants… are free to go."
"Don't you dare, 'Arry."
"Bugger that, we're staying."
"Nein, we're not leaving you."
Harry couldn't show it then, but he was touched by the concern the others had for him. Fleur's glare of warning spoke volumes more than she should have allowed it, but the teen wizard only smiled at them briefly before he put on a cheerful, snarky smirk.
"I rather enjoy my present company, thanks," Harry offered to the Death Eaters. "You wouldn't happen to be willing to provide us a trip back to Hogwarts and reschedule this whole affair, would you?"
"You test our generosity, boy," Lucius drawled as he came into the light next to Alecto. "This is your last chance, come with us and your friends will leave unharmed."
"Methinks Lucy is lying," Harry sang, earning smirks from his fellow champions. Good, easing their tension was good. They could remain alert but the more their nerves suffered, the less useful they would be. Years of surviving confrontations where you were outnumbered, or outgunned, had taught him a lot about remaining in power in some way. "Just like he always does. That silver tongue must have cost him a fortune. I wonder if it really is silver. We could always cut it out and learn for ourselves."
"Don't be a fool Potter! You're condemning your friends to death! Come out now or they will suffer before we kill them?"
"Says the impotent man who compensates for his shortcomings with a cane," Fleur drawled in a seductive smack across the man's face with her words. "Three against four? I believe we can handle you."
"Handle us? You'll handle us, will you?" Junior drawled playfully in return. "Oh I'd like to see that. It took Moody and Amelia to make me run from Hogwarts. Do you really think I can't handle three teenagers and a quidditch star?"
"Enough talk!" Alecto spat as her wand glimmered red. "Let's end this! Crucio!"
The spell sliced right through their shields, and it was luck that none of the champions were hit as the barricade of graves covered them. Stone splintered all about them, and they all knew it was time to fight. Harry glanced to his friends, and one look was all it took. They were all getting out of here, or not at all.
Fleur's passion fire leaped into her free hand and streamed toward Lucius even as spells left her wand. Viktor and Cedric, seeing their opening, leaped over the graves to attack Junior. While Harry would have chosen to go for him, being the more experienced duelist along with Fleur, two on one were better odds than he would have had alone.
Without hesitation, harry leaped over the grave before his magic surged. With a sudden heave, he brought one headstone out of the ground and flung it toward Alecto with all of his might. Magic seeped from Harry's body as he advanced without missing a beat. The banished stone whirled through the air and Alecto dove for cover, only to find the stone blasting apart and sending her sprawling.
"What the fucking hell are you doing, Potter?!" the witch swore as she stood and dodged his next spell. "You swore to defend my family as your own! Breaking that alliance will have consequences for your magic!"
Harry, however, smirked. "You cast an unforgivable at us. The alliance is void until you're dead." Harry's head tilted aside, his eyes shining bright green with magic for just a moment as he stared at the woman. "It will be just like Amycus all over again."
The primal scream that escaped her was exactly what Harry wanted. Anger was valuable, powerful even, but blind rage was a weakness, a hindrance. Despite all manner of spells that were flung from her wand, that her frothing mouth seemed to expel with every twitch of her tongue, Harry shielded or dodged them, using the environment to his advantage each time her crucio came close to him. Seeing the wild swings of her wand as she became more and more sloppy with rage, Harry unleashed his magic and thrust forward with his wand.
A lance of light sped between them and Alecto screamed, her shoulder opened wide with a whole two inches wide nearly severing it off. As harry made to go for the second spell, one that would surely tear her apart, a brilliant shield flashed where the silver slash of light struck. A pulse of wind roared through the graveyard and two screams Harry never wanted to hear echoed through the air. The crunch of bodies against stone filled his ears, and Harry turned to face the attacker as Alecto fell to the ground in shock.
"Naughty boys," Junior tittered at the groaning Viktor and Cedric as ice and snow whirled around him. "Elemental transfiguration? I'm impressed. But you won't beat me that easily."
"Stop it, Junior! I own you."
The words that echoed out of Harry's mouth struck Junior with force, and the man grimaced as he turned toward the teenager. The man narrowed his eyes then before he straightened his jacket as the ice fell around him and his wand wavered with heat. There was neither rage nor fury in his face, but a calm Harry had only witnessed on the face of the best warriors he knew.
"You fucking whore!" Lucius cried out as he tossed aside his flaming cloak. "I'll have you raped for this! I'll finish what my son swore to do and make sure you return home broken, pregnant and mad!"
That was all Harry was allowed to witness as a blast of wind carried him back. Harry spun in the air and landed with a thud. His magic spun about again, ready to lance into his next foe. He knew Alecto wasn't to be counted out yet, but Junior was the biggest threat here. Harry's magic splintered all about him and with a single jab rained upon a wall of earth before it was flung back at him. Just as he had done to Alecto, Junior did to him. The earth exploded, showered Harry and sent him sprawling for cover…
Until a fire unlike any other roared into existence.
Harry didn't need to see it to know it. The ferocity of the magic itself burned at all of his senses as it fed on everything about it for power to sate its infinite hunger. Fiendfyre had been conjured, and the chimera that leaped from its depths ate away Fleur's magic as it rushed toward Lucius. A breath of flame extended toward the witch even as the snake-tail lashed out at the ground, hemming the champions away from Harry, and Harry away from them.
Lucius turned his back, confident Fleur had been warded off for now as he rushed toward Harry, wand blazing with spells even as Junior did. Harry conjured a shield, the assault ramming against it. He could find no opening, even as he shifted it to his arm and flung spells around it, the pair worked flawlessly together until a statue grabbed Harry by the throat and dragged him back. Harry was just about to destroy the stone when his wand was flung away and he was bound in ropes naught a moment later.
"See to Alecto… she'll have to sacrifice more than her wrist to bring our Lord back," Lucius informed Junior. "And keep that infernal flame in check."
Junior seemed to glare at Lucius for a moment. The lordly man merely raised an eyebrow before the convict shrugged and attended to his duties. Lucius, of course, took this opportunity to turn to Harry with a dark smile.
"Ahh, at long last, Harry Potter without his protection," Lucius drawled lightly as he slipped his wand into his cane. "I have yet to repay you for my son, though my Lord requires you alive… I supposed battered can do just as well."
The cane struck Harry across the face once, twice, three times before it was slammed against his body again and again. Harry lost count of the calculated, rage-filled strikes against his person, but he never gave out a single cry of pain. Every bruise, every break, every bit of blood Lucius spilt only earned him another letter on the headstone Harry would one day bury him under… if he felt gracious enough to give the man a marked grave at all. Even so, the pain shattered through his body again and again even as he used it to fuel his anger, his hate, and the future suffering of others for it. It only seemed to infuriate Lucius further as Harry remained utterly silent, and when he went to strike Harry again Junior's intervened and held the cane tightly mere inches from Harry's face.
"Leave him be," the criminal almost growled. "Or would you rather lessen the Dark Lord's defeat of his enemy?"
"Potter is a pest and a menace! Hardly worthy of our Lord's enmity except for whatever fluke happened that night so long ago!"
"And yet the Dark Lord commanded that Harry's life is his," Junior responded more calmly than moments prior. "Do not sully the Dark Lord's prize when it is so close within his grasp."
Lucius huffed, a proper pureblooded sniff of disdain as he wrenched his cane away from the criminal. Blood had gotten on the silver handle and the man quickly used Harry's coat to cleanse it, as if adding insult to injury. Junior looked to Harry, and instead of finding pain or gratitude, he found the boy grinning darkly at them both. It unsettled him, though not nearly as much as Lucius, as the man seemed to withhold a shudder at the sight. As they turned away, Harry's voice croaked out darkly, confidently with a bit of humor in his voice despite the numerous injuries down to his face and throat.
"The muggles hit harder than you."
Lucius snarled and whipped around, wand blazing before Junior stopped him again. The two shared a look of loathing and enmity before they stopped. Harry, however, finally noticed that Alecto was up and moving, her shoulder bandaged but no longer bleeding so profusely. She rested against a gravestone even as Lucius marched with a stick up his ass to a cauldron and began to move it to the center of a prepared area of smooth stone upon the ground that looked like the graveyard's central walkway right in front of Harry. The teen raised an eyebrow at that before he connected the dots.
"Learn those tricks with the unspeakables, did you?" Harry wondered at Junior.
"Some," the man answered proudly before he grinned at the battered boy before him. "Of course, allowing myself to be placed under the Imperius Curse for ten years under the command 'Learn from the Library' may have had something to do with it."
"Ten years, nothing but filling your head with knowledge and your body with magic?" Harry recounted out of curiosity. "You must have been quite the surprise when you broke free of your father."
"Bartemius had no idea what hit him," Junior answered almost professionally, as if discussing an encounter with a creature while abroad to a colleague. "He did not have the true will to control the very essence of someone's life, especially once Winky brought me back to full health within months of my secret homecoming. I rather enjoyed those years in secret, waiting, growing, biding my time… I enjoyed the following five even more."
"Enough talk, Barty," Alecto panted as she approached the criminal, a knife in one hand. "He doesn't need to know more."
"No last request for the condemned? A pity, Alecto. After all I'm sentenced to death, one civil conversation won't hurt anyone," Harry offered as he continued to stare at Junior. "What happened the following five?"
"I took control of my father and showed him the true power of holding one's life in the palm of your hands… That, and a beautiful woman, not this wench certainly," Junior said with a smirk at Alecto.
"As if I would touch your sullied flesh, whelp," Alecto said before she spat blood on Junior's shoes. Without warning, she conjured a rag and shoved it in Harry's mouth, hoping to silence him for a time. Once finished, she leaned up on her tiptoes and smirked. "I look forward to violating you, Potter. Taking you in front of one of your little sluts while my master keeps you under the imperius… oh it would be glorious if my lord rewarded me as such!
"I may even bear your child to take the privilege from them before you die!"
Harry felt sick at the insinuation, and he wasn't the only one by the look on the faces of Lucius and Junior. Beyond the ring of fiendfyre, Harry could see Fleur burning with hate and worry as she watched. Cedric and Viktor too radiated hatred and concern, as well as pain. They wanted nothing more than to rush in and save him, but the hellfire would consume them long before they ever got close.
A pulse of magic registered on Harry's senses and the ground glowed a brief red in several places. Harry's mouth, if it hadn't been forced wide and quiet by the rag, would have gaped even further as he realized what was going on. A ritual of resurrection, a dark one by the looks of it. Harry's magic trembled against the feeling, warred against it even as it touched and gently washed over him, caressing him as if he were a lover about to partake in the most sinful desires.
"Leave the circle, ensure nothing interferes!"
Alecto's hiss was the only command the two men looked like they willingly would ever take from her. The bleach-blonde woman made her way into the dark ness only to return with a bundle of robes. She raised it high and as she dumped what lay within inside it, Harry saw the sickly yellow snake eyes of Lord Voldemort in the sickly snakelike face of a mutated child. The splash of the homunculus, for what else could that monstrosity be, sent sparks shooting into the air as Alecto retreated toward a nearby grave.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
The fervent proclamation echoed throughout the graveyard. A dusty bone burst from the earth beneath a statue and fled toward the cauldron. The closer it got, the brighter the runes on the ground shown. Harry's eyes were drawn to them, fixed upon the runes and sigils written in stone until his heart skipped a beat. He knew this ritual, or parts of it, and it wasn't all just based in the words of the bitch fetching supplies for a dark resurrection. The murmured words of the other two wizards reached Harry's ears and a surge of fear, and another of hope shot through him. When the bone entered the potion and the sparks blazed a blinding ivory, Alecto prepared her large knife and held her arm high.
"Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed, you will revive your master!"
The cry of ecstasy that escaped her jarred at the senses even as agony cracked through her voice at the end. When the flesh of her entire arm up to the shoulder Harry had mangled slipped into the cauldron, the white sparks bled like blood as they flit through the air. Alecto panted in pain, pleasure, or some psychotic mix of the two even as Harry did all in his power to change the world about him. Bone had been given, flesh had been sacrificed, and all that was left was blood. His teeth crashed again and again on the rag. His tongue pressed hard and when Alecto approached, her knife raised once again, a manic gleam in her eye, the bloody rag was flung in her face and a gasp for breath was taken.
"Blood of the enemy, freely surrendered, you shall change your foe!"
The runes on the ground erupted in viridian light, even as Harry spat blood on the blade Alecto held in her hand to ensure there was no mistake in his addition to the ritual. He was surprised the cauldron hadn't erupted then and there to be honest. The first rule of any ritual had been violated, yet they were all still alive: Don't go off script. The fact any of them remained alive or whole sent silence spinning through the air until Harry realized what he'd done.
He hadn't destroyed the ritual, just shifted it enough with all of his intent to make something new come forth, something unexpected. It was all he could do to stay alive, to keep anyone in the area alive. Trying to go against the very nature of the ritual, or should he say rituals as there was more than Alecto's at work, would have caused such a backlash that he wouldn't be surprised if whatever nearby town was vaporized with them. This alteration, on the other hand, he could live with.
Or so he hoped.
From the look on Alecto's face, Harry could tell she wanted to scream, to kill him, to make her own addition to the ritual, but she could not. The enemy had freely surrendered, and all their plans had been shorn asunder in the face of something, someone, unpredictable. Harry couldn't help but smirk as he willingly forced his magic into the ritual and all the graveyard around them to affect the ritual and prepare his field of battle all at once.
Harry warned Alecto with a look, but even she knew she could not violate the rule that had already once been challenged: Don't go off script. Attempting such again would only bring death and ruin to them all.
As Alecto turned back to the potion, to the cauldron where Lord Voldemort awaited resurrection, Harry instead prayed for something else, for someone else. It was strange, to think after all this time he would wish to see this come forth. But then, hadn't he been a friend? A look of longing mixed with the defiance Harry radiated as he watched the ritual come to a head. The sparks turned into viridian flames as Harry's blood touched the potion and soon the world dissolved in the light of the ritual before it was all given back and the cauldron seemed to melt into the shadows of the ground.
Crouched as the form was, it wasn't hard to tell what had been born anew. Lord Voldemort had risen again. Pale skin shifted and stretched before it settled on bone and filled itself with health, youth and power. As the figure slowly stood up, shifting, molding itself anew, Harry was unsure what exactly he had accomplished. In fact, none knew what to expect of the pale-skinned figure that stood before them as a monstrous flood of magic roared out from its every pore.
"Robe me, Alecto…"
Even as the words echoed in the ear of everyone nearby, Harry couldn't help but stare into the red and yellow eyes of his enemy. No matter how hard he searched, how desperately he hoped, he found little to nothing of what he'd tried to bring out, what he had tried to resurrect instead of Lord Voldemort. There was still a monster before them, but Harry could almost feel the difference in what it was and what it should have been.
The nose was nearly-snakelike but it existed in a slightly squashed and slit form. The eyes were slits of a snake, a cat or dragon, and the body was one made for power. What alien features Lord Voldemort had possessed in the last pictures of him ever taken during the Battle of Cardiff in mid-June 1981 had diminished some, though he radiated no less power and wielded no less terror. High stark cheekbones, slightly gaunt cheeks and a slim jaw with a pointed chin. It was closer than Harry imagined it could have been to the memory, but it wasn't him.
Alecto reverently, almost seductively, robed her master, eager to please him any way she could. It was almost a sexual act of devotion, of worship and submission, and Harry was unsettled to see it. When she had finished and she knelt before him, his wand in her hand, the Dark Lord actually smiled. He gripped his wand and raised it high, caressed it as if they were lovers before he turned it on Alecto and molten silver poured out from its tip. Her arm that had been severed seemed to reform before their very eyes, magic Harry knew had to exist but had never attempted to seek out, nor needed to. When the arm was finally reformed, Alecto bent to kiss Voldemort's robes and remained on her knees before him.
"Master… it has been so long!"
"Indeed it has, Alecto" the pale Dark Lord answered slowly, regally even. "And yet, you failed to accomplish the task I set you."
"But… but Master! It was Potter!" Alecto shrieked as she grabbed the knife from the ground and pointed it to the bound teenager. "He did it!"
"And you failed to stop him."
It was the simplest sentence, and a damning one if the fear in the blonde's eyes was anything go by. With hardly a flick of his wand, red light enveloped Alecto and she screamed. Such a scream Harry had never heard in his life but for perhaps once, and even then it paled to the primal terror, agony, and despair it bred with every moment it passed her lips. Seconds passed by until a full minute had slipped by when she was finally released.
Voldemort seemed to sigh with pleasure, a sadistic smile on his lips as he watched Alecto writhe even after the spell was finished. It took another minute for the woman to collect herself, and Harry wouldn't be surprised if she had soiled herself throughout the torture. Even so, as Harry watched Voldemort practically get off on torturing his follower, he felt part of his secret hope die.
"You're not him."
The words passed Harry's lips in the barest hint of a whisper and nobody heard him. Instead, they listened to the barely coherent pleading of Alecto as she begged forgiveness. Voldemort seemed to grant it before he called Lucius then Junior forward and allowed each to prostrate before him. He tortured neither, surprisingly, for the resurrection ritual had been primarily Alecto's duty from the start. Their parts in the rituals so recently accomplished had been fulfilled to perfection. When asked to bear their marks, all three Death Eaters proudly showed their burning, blood red Dark Marks.
"How inviting they are…" the dark lord whispered as if to a lover. "Let us see who is of the faithful… who lies to their lord… and who has turned away to be hunted forevermore."
Voldemort grasped the marks of Junior and Lucius, almost seeming to do as much pain to them as he had done to Alecto. The call had gone out, and Harry couldn't help but let his senses and magic wash through the graveyard, waiting to see who would come as he desperately attempted to find, or create, some way out. Shadows drifted into the graveyard and soon were joined by cracks and pops of apparition as dozens arrived at the call of their Lord, prepared to serve and ready to face any consequence.
Harry heeded little of the groveling, but as they returned to their places, Harry saw each tremble in fear. Only moments later was it justified as the Dark Lord cast the Cruciatus on almost all of them at once. He skipped only a select few, namely Alecto, Junior and Lucius. The torture of some ended quicker than others, and a plea for mercy echoed throughout the graveyard among the cries of agony left.
"Lord Voldemort shows no mercy to fools and failures!"
The Dark Lord's proclamation only increased the agony of those still screaming until finally it halted. Even then, Harry's fear had been confirmed, and all his change to the ritual had managed to do was cosmetic, if even that. Harry glanced beyond the hellfire that Junior still managed to control to see Cedric, Viktor and Fleur, their gazes flicking back and forth frantically as they tried to find a way to free Harry.
When Harry caught their gaze, he couldn't help the cold that settled in his gut. They had to get out of here! With so many Death Eaters, Hary's escape was all but assured to fail. But theirs? They could still run. He frantically nodded to the village, urging as best he could in his momentary silence for them to run. If there was one thing he would accomplish before this night ended, it was getting his friends back home safe and sound.
Save yourselves! Harry pleaded mentally. It was of little use, the looks on their faces belied their intentions even from this distance, and he knew they would never leave him behind if they didn't have to.
"So many years have passed and so many of you have failed me, but no more," Lord Voldemort commanded of his followers. "Sixteen years have passed and almost all of those that remained loyal are absent from this circle! Sixteen years and only one of you dares stand in my presence freely! Barty is loyal, and though he bided time and collected power, he did what he could to prepare for my rising! But you?! You take my glory and sully it! You claimed innocence when your hearts were as black as death itself!
"And now? Now I return to finish what I started," Voldemort proclaimed. "Now you shall fail me no longer, and we shall create paradise for us all… And I shall rule where all others have failed. Even over death itself, for I am beyond its touch, as you have witnessed tonight!"
Harry smirked briefly at that, though he held his tongue as the Dark Lord continued his monologue. A welcoming gift for his followers no doubt, to instill confidence, respect, and above all, fear and obedience into his followers once again. Only when Voldemort turned in his speech did the man halt, a smile upon his lips as if he had just witnessed something funny.
"Ahh… Harry Potter!" Voldemort announced almost playfully. "The Boy-Who-Lived," he continued to mock with a dark grin as the Death Eaters chuckled appropriately. "Not for much longer though, I assure you." The laughter grew, and some even cheered before they were silenced by a flick of Voldemort's off-hand. "It has been some time since we last met, Harry… You, of all people, are my enemy? I find it hard to believe, but almost appropriate… You prove to be so… intriguing."
The flick of Voldemort's gaze past the fire set Harry's heart to stone. Fleur hid there, preparing magic only knew what with Cedric and Viktor. But to see Voldemort set his sights on her, to hear such a word used by the Dark Lord's tongue sent a shiver through Harry. For a moment his deepest fears flashed before Harry's eyes before he shut them down, trapped them in darkness and shadow in the depths of his mind.
"I wonder… does your new family, all of the women your life, love you as much as your mother did?" Voldemort drawled a she approached the teen, his Death Eaters only a few steps behind as they began to make a perimeter around the pair. "Would the veela die for you as your mother did? Would her sacrifice grant you protection from me?"
Harry swallowed down whatever fear and hatred he could and instead slipped a small smile across his lips as he looked to Voldemort. "It's pity all they brought back is you, Nameless. And my mother? She may have died for me, but we both know you've killed countless mothers who sacrificed themselves and you never died when killing their children. So if it wasn't her sacrifice, it must be me, mustn't it?"
"My name is Lord Voldemort," the Dark Lord answered coldly, his approach almost instant as he seemed to shift into shadow and approach Harry, his hand hovering above the scar. "Your mother was a clever little mudblood and a ritual sacrifice must have been made to protect you… That is the only reason you survived! That is why I could not touch you in your first year. But no matter. I may not have been able to touch you then… but I can touch you now!"
The moment Voldemort's hand touched Harry, steamed erupted between them, smoke burst forth and Voldemort removed his hand to find the digit he touched Harry with burnt and raw. To show surprise would have the Dark Lord failing himself, and instead he merely showed contempt as he smacked Harry across the face with impunity. Harry couldn't help but smirk, as he knew exactly what was going on as he turned his face back to stare Voldemort right in the eye. It almost seemed a mistake, because with a force beyond anything Harry encountered, Voldemort poured his magic and mind into Harry's…
At least, he tried.
Darkness and shadow, emptiness, nothingness, agony, despair, quiet, cold, loneliness, all of it drenched every inch of Harry's mind as Voldemort dwelled within it. The darkness and shadows, so infinite and incorruptible vanished as Voldemort recoiled his attack and stared in abject curiosity at Harry. A flash of the darkness sparked again between them before Voldemort turned away so casually before he abruptly backhanded Harry with such force his head snapped aside.
"What a defiant, rebellious fool you are, Harry James Potter," Voldemort drawled for his spectators. With a wave of his hand Barty's fiendfyre vanished and orbs of light sprung up all throughout the graveyard, highlighting the very death the Dark Lord's followers proclaimed to eat and outlast. "Perhaps it's time to put an end to you, once and for all."
"I'd love to see you try, Nameless."
Unwilling to play games any longer, Voldemort backed off a single step, pointed his wand at Harry and let the magic flow. Pain, pain unending and beyond what Moody had put him through coursed through every nerve, every vein, and every cell of Harry's flesh. It felt like everything was being lit on fire, frozen into nothingness, shredded by talons, only to be pieced back together and tortured all over again.
As with Moody, however, Harry refused to give in. His teeth clenched, his body tensed, and though he was bound in ropes, he reached again and again for the knife cloaked on his thigh. Panting, hard breaths left the teen as he fought it with every fiber of his being, as his magic lashed out trying to force the invading torture from him with every second the past. Only after thirty seconds did a primal scream of rage, hate and suffering escape Harry as his hand grasped the hilt of the knife, but could not move.
Another half minute later and Voldemort released the spell, smiling with glee as he stared upon his tortured enemy. "Impressive that you held in your voice for so long. But no longer."
The ropes fell away and Harry with them. His grip on the knife relaxed and Harry broke his fall just barely with his outstretched hands. He refused to remain on his knees before any enemy, and Voldemort was no exception. As he forced himself to stand on shaky legs, the Dark Lord laughed before the red spell lashed out again within the blink of an eye.
"I'm going to end you," Harry promised in panted breaths between screams of agony as he fell to the ground, rolling about, desperately trying to force the magic out once again. Not just a single minute, but no less than five passed before Harry was allowed up. Spells shot forward from the champions only to be halted by a barrier forged by the laughing Death Eaters.
"Such conviction, Harry…" drawled the Dark Lord. "We shall have to put it to the test… but not before we see the truth of you. The truth you have hidden in shame for so long."
Harry's eyes widened briefly before he was hoisted into the air, a monstrous power that threatened to consume him pressed on his every muscle and bone. In instant Harry found his jacket and satchel removed by fluid magic, the articles of clothing set neatly in Junior's hands as the Dark Lord continued his display of power and control over Harry Potter. A simple flick of his wand and Harry's vest and shirt were taken off him to reveal a sight none of the Death Eaters had suspected.
Voldemort approached with easy strides, his gaze filled with inscrutable emotions before his hand settled upon the cross on Harry's chest. "The muggles did this, didn't they, Harry?"
Harry remained quiet for but a moment as he looked into Voldemort's eyes. "Like I said; the muggles hit harder than Lucius."
None of the Death Eaters laughed, in fact they almost looked angry. Despise Harry Potter they might, but their loathing for muggles, the powerless fools that supposedly ruled the world while they, the greatest of all beings cowered away, was far greater. That one of those useless lumps had done such to a wizard earned them an excruciating death that they truly deserved. The truth of the boy's past had been revealed, but where they had assumed delight, they found only loathing in their hearts.
"So why fight me, Harry?" Voldemort wondered aloud. "Why fight me when you despise the muggles as much as I? Why seek to destroy the man that can liberate all magical beings, all of magic, from the confines of the world those filthy beasts forced us into?! Why fight me when I could free you of them forever?"
Harry offered no answer, no reason nor plea. Instead he floated there in the utmost dignity despite the humiliation they attempted to foist upon him as his chest rose and fell in almost impossible calm. For a moment, one would wonder if it was pride in the teen's countenance before Voldemort tore the quiet asunder with his voice once again.
"Why fight me and my Death Eaters when your tormentors could be destroyed, when I would let you kill them any way you imagine?!" Voldemort offered in a fever pitch of charisma and effort. "Why fight for them and their spawn that would seek to destroy our world?! Why do you fight me, Harry? Is it vengeance for your parents?! Hmm? Is it to survive when I tried to kill you for ruining our chance at a better world? Tell me, Harry! Why do you fight?"
In that moment, Harry couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. Despite all shame he should have felt, despite all rage at his secret becoming known to so many once again, he couldn't help but laugh. Laugh, he thought, at the faces of those who had never faced what he had. Laugh, he thought, at the pitiful people who broke beneath the weight of abuse, of torture, when he kept fighting. Laugh, he felt, in pride.
"Because I am a Survivor and I will live my life as I see fit. Because I earned my place in this world and nobody can take that from me," Harry answered clearly as he looked to Voldemort. "Not even you!"
The answer was not what any of them expected. There was no declaration of intent to free the world from Voldemort's clutches. There was no defiance in the face of moral, ethical, or ideological differences. There was none of it! Instead they received an unexpected answer from a boy, a young man, who seemed to want nothing more than to live as he saw fit, and was willing to face anything to accomplish such a seemingly small thing.
The smallest huff of disdain left the Dark Lord and in a moment Harry was flung harshly into the ground, so much so that dirt spread lightly about him. Even then, Harry refused to make a sound as the pain only antagonized the torture he had only moments before overcome.
Harry's wand speared into his gut like a bullet at Voldemort's beckoning and youngest champion clung tightly to it. It was familiar, a part of him, a part of everything he ever wanted. Home… He had to get home. As Harry looked to the other champions outside the barrier, however, he knew he wouldn't likely get out of here alive. But if he could get them out? If he could get Fleur, Cedric and Viktor home to say goodbye for him? He would bring an end to it all to make that happen and if he lived then all the better.
So end it, a grizzled voice whispered from his memories. You're a Survivor, Lad. Show those fucking wankers you won't go quietly. End it on your terms or not at all.
Harry breathed deep the scent of holly and ivory as he held the wand up to his eyes. He had a mission, he had to survive, and failing that he had to make sure Fleur, Cedric and Viktor did. Harry couldn't help but chuckle lightly at himself as he stood up, his mind focused elsewhere too much for a weakened, pained body to stop him. It was funny. After so many years fighting for his life, he would now willingly give it up for people he loved.
One Final Task then… Harry thought with conviction as he glanced from his friends to Voldemort. Get them out alive, or die trying.
"Do you want the first spell, or shall I take it?" Harry quipped.
"Oh come now, Harry! You're familiar the etiquette of a duel. First we bow." When Harry tilted his head aside, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips, Voldemort scowled. "I said, bow!"
The imperius curse flooded into Harry with all the finesse of a battering ram, and left moments later with Harry smirking at Voldemort, the boy seemingly untouched by the magic.
"I'd rather not, thanks. Wouldn't want Lucius turning his wand on me, if you know what I mean," Harry offered with a light chuckle as he stared at the Dark Lord. "I'm surprised Narcissa could even get enough of a rise out of him to produce a child."
To Harry's surprise, Voldemort offered a dark chuckle. "Your insolence, amuses me, Harry… But I told you to bow!"
The force of magic that pressed on Harry was too great to resist. It stretched up his spine, crushed him from above and bent him forward to bow low for the Dark Lord. Never once did Harry cry out in pain. Never, he refused to do that a long time ago, and he wouldn't let himself scream a third time for this son of a near-squib whore. When it ended, Harry took his time to stand as regally as he could in his shirtless state before he turned his head and winked at Lucius.
"Missed opportunity, Lucy. Maybe next time."
Harry could practically feel the man's rage boiling within him. It was so close Harry could almost taste it, and it looked like Voldemort could as well based on the smirk upon the Dark Lord's lips. Voldemort enjoyed the fact that a traitor to his own for more than a decade was treated so lowly by an enemy. Certainly Lucius had made his return easier through a variety of methods, which he would expand upon soon, but to see the man torn down by a mere boy amused the Dark Lord greatly.
"Now, Harry, shall we begin?"
Voldemort had barely finished his question before spells were flying through the air. The Dark Lord actually laughed before a bolt of silver sliced across his arm. With a snarl, Voldemort fought back, weaving his wand through the air in patterns so quickly Harry could barely shield and dodge the bursts of magic he was met with. Harry sliced his wand through the air again, silver shards exploding around Voldemort until the Dark Lord roared out, the magic shattering harmlessly around him as Harry's body seized up, once again under the puppet control of the Dark Lord.
Harry could hardly believe it. How many spells had Voldemort cast. Ten? Fifteen at most? There was no man before him. He was a monster! The sheer power, the magic that rammed against his own had sent shivers through Harry's arms, pressed upon him with such force that it seemed impossible. Harry thought himself skilled, strong even, but compared to this monstrous thing before him? The Dark Lord did little more than simply toy with him. Because that's what Harry felt like in the face of Voldemort, a toy, and the Dark Lord was playing with him until that single cut had slashed his arm. He and the other Champions would be lucky to even survive the next minute if the Voldemort was truly serious.
I will survive and so will they or I will die trying.
"So young, so bold… so… weak," drawled the Dark Lord as he stepped up to Harry and collected the boy's chin in his hand. "How could I have possibly been defeated by you almost sixteen years ago? No matter, the past is the past and now you see the true power of Lord Voldemort. Tell me, Harry, how could I possibly lose to you now?"
Despite any fear Harry felt for the monster before him, he smirked back at him. "Arrogance."
Before the Dark Lord could stop him, Harry lashed out, his magic breaking through the enchantment in a blast that banished Voldemort and all of his followers far away to the ground. The barrier fell and spells rained in from the Champions as they saw their moment of escape. With sweeping strikes, Harry slashed his magic through the air, cold, deadly and uncaring as he sliced his way toward his friends.
Cries of pain, of agony and despair filled the night as Harry swept through the followers of Voldemort before his wand turned to the Dark Lord himself. He had to buy time and with a quick slam of his wand to the ground, the stone erupted into a wall and closed the dark Lord away briefly before Harry detonated it, hoping to slow the monster even more as he made a mad dash toward his friends.
Stone, however, could be one's ally and their enemy. Knives of stone, bathed in flame fell like meteors all around Harry even as snakes of earth erupted in every direction, hemming Harry in, forcing him back toward Voldemort and his wounded followers. With no other choice, Harry turned about and fought for his life with everything he was. Slash, thrust, and parry, Harry's magic waged war on the Dark Lord even as the resurrected monstrosity briefly struggled to keep up with wave after wave of pure magical assault before he cast the curse Harry was waiting for.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Flama Lancea!"
Silver blades gilded in viridian flame met a jet of sickly green and burst into a field of gold. Tethers connected wand to wand and brothers were forced to fight. Harry stood shocked, his magic connected so tightly to Voldemorts as their magic warred between them. Phoenix song hummed in the air and Harry poured all he could into the tether binding him to the Dark Lord.
On the other side, Voldemort did the same and forced all of his power with all his might through his wand in the hopes of ending Harry Potter once and for all. A golden cage made of magic itself shrouded the pair, locked them beyond the powers of anyone outside it. Arcs of fire and lightning burst from the center, and again and again as their power clashed. Harry stood fast, his magic roared in his ears as he poured it through his wand and edged that ball of fire and lightning, of pure golden light closer to Voldemort with every passing second.
Then it happened, as the golden light met Voldemort's wand it flared to life, expelling countless spells before it slowed. Harry's screams echoed back to him, then the earlier howls of the Death Eaters, then the ghost of a man who could only be the former caretaker of the house on the hill. The old man muttered something, though Harry hardly heard him. In the next few seconds, two faces Harry thought he would never see came forth. His mother and father stood between the battling pair and smiled at Harry as proudly as ever.
"We love you, Harry."
Harry couldn't help but smile back at Lily when he finally heard the words. "I know... But I found a family of my own now."
"We know…" James said with a solemn, earnest smile that radiated joy. "They're good for you, better than we could hope… Now kick his arse, Harry! Make us proud!"
Harry laughed as fire gathered in his left hand, his eyes darkening as he stared right at Voldemort who, Harry thought, seemed to hear something much different from the deathly specters of his parents. Everything Harry knew of magic told him they weren't really alive, just shadows of what they were in life. Either way, they were enough encouragement from a bit of his past to fight even harder to save his own life.
"Burn with me."
Harry's growled words echoed through the chamber as his flames clawed the very air and streamed across the golden band. In a sudden blast, Voldemort was enveloped in flame, burning from Harry's assault even as Harry yanked the tether away and ended the magic all about them. Whatever ritual they had unknowingly caused, whatever specters of his parents had been, they were gone, long dead, and Harry would fight with everything he had not to join them.
"Time to die, Potter!"
The rage-filled screamed echoed throughout the graveyard. Whatever fire had clung to the dark lord vanished with a slash of the man's wand and he seemed completely unharmed at first glance, harry could tell his skin was marked with shallow burns and his robes smoked while he bent forward angrily in pain. With every slash and thrust of his wand, the Dark Lord advanced on the teen with overwhelming force.
Stone and earth raised to Hary's defense with every wave of his wand, only to be crushed and torn apart by a power unlike any the champions had ever seen. Animals roared in Harry's defense only to vanish in seconds or fall away, rotting in death. For as hard as Harry fought, Voldemort's power, speed, and experience completely outstripped him. With a single wave, all of Harry's magic and defenses were wiped away and Harry was sent careening through the air. Within hardly a second, Harry was shackled to the ground in chains of iron, his wand cast aside, buried up to the hilt in the ground nearby.
Red magic flashed through the air once again and Harry roared in pain and defiance in equal measure. His hands erupted in flame and grasped the chains, burning them, seeking to melt and destroy everything in his path even as Voldemort approached with deadly slow steps and the Death eaters laughed. Here was Harry Potter, the great savior, the Boy-Who-Lived trying to burn the world in a useless attempt at defiance even as he was tortured and torn down by their Great and Powerful Dark Lord.
When the cruciatus was finally lifted, Harry panted out in pain and only growled harder as he forced his magic out hotter, faster, and more powerful than ever. With the last few quite steps of Voldemort's approach, Harry knew what had come. He had failed to accomplish one final task. His friends would watch this and never forget that he couldn't stop the Dark Lord. They would lose him forever and he would lose them. This time, he wasn't coming back battered and bloody but victorious. This time the end was coming and Harry only hoped his friends would turn away, would run while they had the chance and escape while they still could.
Harry looked up slowly, his hands ablaze with his magic even then as he refused to give up upon the precipice of death. Shadows fled the enraged teen with each moment and deepened the darkness of the graveyard even as green light bathed the area about him. Even with all of his fury and defiance, the hope that he had done enough damage to get his friends, his family home safe without him lingered still. With that thought in mind, Harry smiled as he looked into Voldemort's eyes.
It was then that he saw it, just a glimmer like it had been before. The satisfied gleam of victory was in the Dark Lord's eyes. But for a moment, just a moment, Harry witnessed something that comforted him as much as it unsettled him. A small laughed escaped Harry then, his smile widening even as Voldemort raised his wand one last time.
"Hello Tom."
"Avada Kedavra!"
The green light of the Killing Curse struck just as it had before, in the very same spot it had sixteen years ago. The fire faded in a flash of silver wisps. All was still and silent for a moment until the body bound in chains slumped and fell forward, unmoving, lifeless long before it hit the ground. It seemed to take forever, and when the last thud of the body and the clink of the chains binding it echoed as it hit the earth, the world knew what was to come. It was over, it was all over. The Dark Lord sighed, one of exultation, of pleasure, of relief as he declared a long battle finally finished with a Whisper in the Night.
"And so ends Harry Potter."
