Part 63

Harry fought to regain his footing when the woman approached him. She lifted her silver hand and with a simple movement of her wand she had untied Harry. Harry looked around, looking for a way out. Just like his father had taught him. Sadly there was none. The Death Eaters had closed ranks, blocking out all the holes. Harry knew that he had to stall for time. Cedric had been at the centre of the labyrinth with him and Dorian. When they disappeared, he surely would have returned to the starting line or would've sent up red sparks. Then the judges would find out what had happened and they would have to tell Harry's family. His father, godfather and uncle Moony would surely start looking for him. As would his mum. They would find a way to track the portkey and then they would zoom in and save him. He just had to stall for time until they could get there. Harry nearly jumped when the woman thrust his wand roughly into his hand without even looking at him. Harry could not get a good look on her face, but he could tell she was short.

"You have been taught how to duel. Harry Potter?" said Voldemort softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness. Harry glared at him. He had been taught a lot. Since that first tournament where Blaise had moved on to the champion rounds there had been a few more which Harry had placed top ten in. Blaise had been outshining everyone else, then again a duelling master was his Master so it was so not fair. Harry had learned a lot thanks to uncle Moony's duelling lessons but he knew he was facing unblockable Avada Kedavra. Harry and survived it once but it had cost him his grandmother's life. This time he was on his own.

"We bow to each other. Harry," said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snakelike face upturned to Harry. "Come, the niceties must be observed. Dumbledore would like you to show manners. Bow to death, Harry."

The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemort's lipless mouth was smiling. Harry did not bow. He was not going to let Voldemort play with him before killing him. He was not going to give him that satisfaction. This was the man that had murdered so many innocent people, who was behind Dorian's death… who corrupted people, who murdered those that did not agree with him or let him down. The Dark Lord who had to be stopped! He remembered what his boggart had turned into and what Remus had told him. What Harry feared was not this snake of a man, but fear itself. He was not going to let that stop him! He was not going to give in to this man!

"No", he snapped. "I don't care what Dumbledore thinks, I will never bow to you! You don't deserve it!"

"I said, bow," Voldemort said, raising his wand - and Harry felt his spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever. "Very good. And now you face me, like a man. . . straight-backed and proud, the way your father would have if he had been there to die at my hand. And now - we duel."

Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could do anything to defend himself, before he could even move, he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he was. When it stopped Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet; he was shaking uncontrollably; he staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters, and they pushed him away, back toward Voldemort.

"A little break," said Voldemort, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement. "A little pause. That hurt, didn't it. Harry? You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

Harry didn't answer. He was going to die like Dorian, those pitiless red eyes were telling him so. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it. But he wasn't going to play along. He wasn't going to obey Voldemort. He wasn't going to beg.

"I asked you whether you want me to do that again," said Voldemort softly. "Answer me! Imperio!"

And Harry felt, for the first time in his life, the sensation that his mind had been wiped of all thought. He could feel a voice urging him on. Telling him to answer no, telling him to beg.

"I will not", said a stronger voice, in the back of his head. Which sounded a lot like his mother's. "I won't answer."

"Just answer no."

"I won't do it", said his father's voice. "I refuse."

"Just answer no."

"Never!" said Sirius' voice. "Over my dead body!"

"Why should I?" questioned Remus' voice. "It is illogical and stupid."

"Just say no."

"You don't deserve it", said a gently voice and Harry knew who's voice that was. "You are too strong for that." It was Blaise'. "You are just not normal, but not in a bad way. Draco is normal, Weasley is normal, Theo is normal… heck even Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle and Daphne are normal but you… you're extraordinary. The best way. You're brave, kind, smart, loyal and strong. You have your heart in the right place and you are super-protective of those you care about. You're not normal… you're amazing. I mean who else would go after a teacher to protect a stone when no one else would? Who would go after a freaking basilisk to save an innocent life? Who would go after a werewolf during the full moon to protect him from an 'evil' wizard? Who would stand up for another werewolf when no one else would? Someone extraordinary that's who."

"Just answer no."

"You don't need to."

"Just answer no."

"I WON'T!"

And these words burst from Harry's mouth; they echoed through the graveyard, and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over him - back rushed the aches that the Cruciatus Curse had left all over his body - back rushed the realization of where he was, and what he was facing.

"You won't?" said Voldemort quietly, and the Death Eaters were not laughing now. "You won't say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die. Perhaps another little dose of pain?"

Voldemort raised his wand, but this time Harry was ready; with the reflexes born of his Quidditch training, he flung himself sideways onto the ground; he rolled behind the marble headstone of Voldemort's father, and he heard it crack as the curse missed him.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry," said Voldemort's soft, cold voice, drawing nearer, as the Death Eaters laughed. "You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry. Come out and play, then. It will be quick; it might even be painless. I would not know… I have never died."

Harry crouched behind the headstone and knew the end had come. His parents, his uncles, they would not be able to reach him in time. No one would. He could hear Voldemort draw nearer still, he knew one thing only, and it was beyond fear or reason: He was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek; he was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort's feet. He was going to go down fighting. He was going to make his parents and uncles proud. He would make Dorian proud. Dorian who had lost his life when trying to protect Harry, it had been in vain but Harry would not give Voldemort the satisfaction of defeating him quickly. Never! Before Voldemort could stick his snakelike face around the headstone. Harry stood up. . . he gripped his wand tightly in his hand, thrust it out in front of him, and threw himself around the headstone, facing Voldemort. Voldemort was ready. As Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Voldemort cried, "Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light issued from Voldemort's wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Harry's - they met in mid-air - and suddenly Harry's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through it; his hand seized up around it; he couldn't have released it if he'd wanted to - and a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold. Harry, following the beam with his astonished gaze, saw that Voldemort's long white fingers too were gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating. And then - nothing could have prepared Harry for this - he felt his feet lift from the ground. He and Voldemort were both being raised into the air, their wands still connected by that thread of shimmering golden light. They glided away from the tombstone of Voldemort's father and then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves. The Death Eaters were shouting; they were asking Voldemort for instructions; they were closing in, reforming the circle around Harry and Voldemort, the snake slithering at their heels, some of them drawing their wands. The golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort splintered; though the wands remained connected, a thousand more beams arced high over Harry and Voldemort, crisscrossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now.

"Do nothing!" Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, and Harry saw his red eyes wide with astonishment at what was happening, saw him fighting to break the thread of light still connecting his wand with Harry's; Harry held onto his wand more tightly, with both hands, and the golden thread remained unbroken. "Do nothing unless I command you!"

And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air. It was coming from every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Harry and Voldemort. It was a sound Harry recognized, though he had heard it only once before in his life: phoenix song. It was the sound of hope to Harry. The most beautiful and welcome thing he had ever heard in his life. He felt as though the song were inside him instead of just around him. It was almost as though a friend were speaking in his ear.

"Don't break the connection", it sang.

"I know", Harry told the music. "I know I mustn't." But no sooner had he thought it, than the thing became much harder to do. His wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever. The beam between him and Voldemort changed too, it was as though large beads of light were sliding up and down the thread connecting the wands. Harry felt his wand give a shudder under his hand as the light beads began to slide slowly and steadily his way. The closer that bead moved, the harder Harry's wand vibrated; he was sure his wand would not survive contact with it. He would not let that happen! With ever ounce of willpower he had he tried to send that bead back at Voldemort! Voldemort looked both astonished and terrified. Harry wasn't really sure what he was doing but whatever it was it seemed to be working so he did not dare stop. He forced the bead back towards Voldemort until it connected with his wand. As it did the wand in Voldemort's hand started screaming in pain. Voldemort's red eyes widened with shock - a dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished. . . the ghost of the hand he had made the woman! More shouts of pain and then something much larger began to blossom from Voldemort's wand tip, a great, greyish something, that looked as though it were made of the solidest, densest smoke. First Harry saw a head, then arms and lastly a torso… the torso of Dorian. Harry almost dropped his wand in shock but his instinct made him tighten the hold. The ghost of Dorian fully emerged from the wand and fixed his hat. He looked at the wands and followed the line to Harry. A smile appeared on his lips. A small, sad smile. A smile filled with compassion and… longing.

"Hold on Bambi", he said. His voice was distant and echoing. Harry looked at Voldemort. His wide red eyes were still shocked since he had no more expected this than Harry had. Harry heard the frightened yells of the Death Eaters, prowling around the edges of the golden dome. More screams of pain from the wand and then something else emerged from its tip. The dense shadow of a second head, quickly followed by arms and torso, an old man Harry had seen only in a dream was now pushing himself out of the end of the wand just as Dorian had done and his ghost, or his shadow, or whatever it was, fell next to Dorian's, and surveyed Harry and Voldemort, and the golden web, and the connected wands, with mild surprise, leaning on his walking stick.

"He was a real wizard, then?" the old man said, his eyes on Voldemort. "Killed me, that one did. You fight him, boy."

But already, yet another head was emerging and this head, grey as a smoky statue, was a woman's. Harry, both arms shaking now as he fought to keep his wand still, saw her drop to the ground and straighten up like the others, staring. The shadow of Bertha Jorkins surveyed the battle before her with wide eyes.

"Don't let go, now!" she cried, and her voice echoed like Dorian's as though from very far away. "Don't let him get you, Harry - don't let go!"

She and the other two shadowy figures began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, while the Death Eaters flitted around the outside of it and Voldemort's dead victims whispered as they circled the duellers, whispered words of encouragement to Harry, and hissed words Harry couldn't hear to Voldemort. Dorian stayed behind Harry and Harry felt his support flowing into him. Dorian was still with him, still encouraging him… even from beyond the grave.

"You can do it Harry", Dorian encouraged. "I believe in you, Remy believes in you, Blaise believes in you. We always have. We knew you could win the tournament and I know you can win this battle too."

Now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemort's wand and Harry knew when he saw it who it would be. He knew, as though he had expected it from the moment when Dorian had appeared from the wand. Knew, because the woman appearing was the one he'd thought of so many times before. The smoky shadow of a tall woman with grey hair fell to the ground as Bertha had done, straightened up, and looked at him and Harry, his arms shaking madly now, looked back into the ghostly face of his grandmother. She like the others started tormenting Voldemort who seemed both angry and fearful. His grandmother moved closer to him.

"When the connection is broken", she said. "We will linger for only moments, but we will give you time. . . you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts do you understand, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding beneath his fingers.

"Harry. . . " whispered the figure of Dorian. "Take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my family and the pack?"

"I will," said Harry, his face screwed up with the effort of holding the wand.

"Oh and tell that mangy mutt that he better look after my cub and my Remy."

"I… I promise."

"Do it now," whispered his grandmother's voice "Be ready to run my angel... do it now…"

"NOW!" Dorian yelled. Harry didn't think he could have held on for another moment anyway - he pulled his wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke; the cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died - but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear - they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze. And Harry ran as he had never run in his life, knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as he passed; he zigzagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following him, hearing them hit the headstones - he was dodging curses and graves, pelting toward Dorian's body, no longer aware of the pain in his leg, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do.

"Stun him!" he heard Voldemort scream.

Ten feet from Dorian, Harry dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it. Gripping his wand more tightly, he dashed out from behind the angel.

"Impedimenta!" he bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at him. From a muffled yell, he thought he had stopped at least one of them, but there was no time to stop and look; he jumped over the cup and dived as he heard more wand blasts behind him; more jets of light flew over his head as he fell, stretching out his hand to grab Dorian's arm.

"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!" shrieked Voldemort. Harry's hand had closed on Dorian's wrist; one tombstone stood between him and Voldemort, but Dorian was too heavy to carry, and the cup was out of reach.

"Accio!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Triwizard Cup. It flew into the air and soared toward him. Harry caught it by the handle. He heard Voldemort's scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked - it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and colour, and Dorian along with him... They were going back.

TBC most of this is taken directly from the book, with some slight changes. Everything you recognize is not mine.