The third task was here.

To backtrack a little, Mr. Crouch was there when she returned. He was ranting and raving, going on to Krum as though the Quidditch player was singlehandedly responsible for cauldron-thickness problems, but he was there. Dumbledore had tried to bring Crouch to the castle to ask questions, but Crouch didn't seem to be at all stable, ramblings on every topic except the one he came for. Dumbledore assured he'd help Crouch.

As for Harry herself, she had been practicing in most of her free time, defensive spells to help in the final Task.

And now it was here. Harry - and the other three champions, she assumed - had been sent to the field for the task to begin, where Bagman waited.

"Ooh, Harry, pleasure to see you! You've got visitors." He said merrily, before resuming his own work as the Task was close to starting. Harry was surprised to see who those visitors were.

It was the Weasleys. It was a pleasure to see them again, tour them through the schools, before Dumbledore came with an interruption.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time," Dumbledore said loudly to the Great Hall, "I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

The Quidditch field was a complete maze. Almost ten feet tall, with thick hedges, and Harry knew how big the field was firsthand. The stands were filling, the teachers were given a safety briefing about red sparks, and time quickly passed before Bagman cast his Sonorus spell, and started to grab the guest's attentions.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Triwizard Tournament's third and final Task is about to begin!" He said, and the audience cheered. "In first place, we have Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter. In second, Viktor Krum. And in third, Fleur Delacour!"

Harry broke into the maze with Cedric on the go, and one sphinx's riddle, a Crucio, and a fight against a spider later, she stood with Cedric, about to grab the Cup.

"You grab it, you wanted to be champion."

"Yeah, but you didn't and you got here."

The two looked at each other.

"Together?"

"Together."

The second they touched, reality warped, and they were pulled through a hole in space.

Harry hit the ground hard, and she could hear the sound of her glasses folding in on themselves. A quick glance to Cedric confirmed he was better only by virtue of not having glasses to break.

Getting up, Harry looked around, seeing that she and Cedric appeared to be in some sort of demolished cemetery.

"D-do you think this is part of the Task?" Cedric asked, worry creeping into his voice. Harry shook her head.

"Wands out?" She suggested, and Cedric pulled his out. The two started walking, seeing graves and headstones and there was two people, one robed, one facing awa-

Suddenly, Harry's scar felt like it was going to kill her. Recoiling in pain, she heard someone's voice haunting through the cemetery.

"Kill the spare." The voice said, and it seemed to echo. The robed figure pulled out a wand, and said a spell.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A burst of green light shot across the area, striking Cedric in the chest. Harry was startled, rushing to Cedric to see his eyes, unblinking...

He was dead. Harry felt her breath catch, locking up, and didn't even notice the robed figure until he magically wrapped Harry in tight ropes.

She turned her head to see him, and gasped when recognizing him... Peter Pettigrew. Wormtail.

Wormtail was bothering with the ropes, tightening them roughly. Once he was certain Harry wasn't moving, he backed her up, putting her against one of the biggest tombstones. He pulled a black cloth from his pocket, and shoved it into Harry's mouth, before hurrying away. Harry could see Wormtail a-working, lighting a fire under a pot, for the figure facing away. The second Harry saw it again, pain seared through her forehead. She knew what the figure was, and she suddenly started feeling her heart rate rise.

Noises filled the area, and Pettigrew picked up the figure and gently lowered it into the pot.

"Hurry." rasped the voice in the pot.

"It's ready, M-Master." Said Pettigrew, and he turned to face harry.

Let it drown, Harry thought, her scar burning, please, let it drown...

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" Wormtail said, holding his hand out. From the ground, akin to some superhero, a bone shot from the grave Harry was near, dodging her narrowly, into Wormtail's hand. She watched as it started glowing a sickly blue, before it crumbled into dust into the pot, tainting the reflective water a blindingly bright blue.

"Blood of the enemy," He continued, walking up to Harry, pulling out a knife and cut Harry's shoulder awkwardly, blood seeping from the wound. He brought the dripping switchblade above the pot, and as soon as a single drop of her blood fell into the pot, it rattled, the color shifting from a blue to a green.

"And f-finally..." Wormtail choked up, holding the blade out. Harry had only now realized that the blade was a near perfect match of Sirius' pocketknife that he had given her, but instead of a pocketknife with accessories, Wormtail had a full-on dagger, complete with the same runes along the side and stylized blade. "F-Flesh of the servant... W-willingly given..." The look on Pettigrew's face showed it wasn't willingly given in almost anyway that counted, fear rattling his voice. "You will revive your master." He said in one breath, and he dragged the blade down on his hand - the one missing a finger already - , and Harry winced as the Animagus screamed, slumping to the ground.

The cauldron went black for a second, before turning a blinding white. Harry's eyes, squinted, could see a thick smoke rising from the pot, and it rattled and shook. Water splashed out of it, and wherever it touched the ground, wherever it touched the fabric of Wormtail's robes, turned blackened and crumbled into dust. It swirled, it glowed, and soon, Harry saw the cauldron itself melting down, the liquid light seemingly absorbing it.

Let it have drowned, Harry thought, let it have gone wrong...

Suddenly, in one loud explosion, the cauldron ripped itself part, pieces flying every which way - including one that clearly pierced Wormtail's shoulder, and one that narrowly dodged Harry's torso. The robes on the side of the platform swirled, as though sentient, and soared into a pillar of quickly fading (no, not fading, darkening) light.

As the black beam subsided, Harry was met face to face with a tall man, his face flat and warped, scarlet eyes that seemed to swirl with a seeming intent.

And she knew that Quirrel's sacrifice had paid off for one person.

That Ginny's possession was a stepping stone that could've been avoided.

That Wormtail was free for one reason.

And that was the biggest tragedy of them all.

Because Lord Voldemort had risen at last.