June 24, 1996

"Welcome, one and all to the final task of the TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT!"

Ludo Bagman's amplified voice called out over the roar of the crowd, causing the noise to swell. Cheers and yells exploded amongst the spectators as the champions made their way into the starting area.

The castle's Quidditch pitch was nigh unrecognizable, given it was filled with overgrown six meters tall hedges. When Harry had been shown the giant hedge maze a month ago he'd just shaken his head. Between Hermione and himself, they'd thought of half a dozen ways to win without even entering, plus many more that would allow him to cut through the maze and avoid the beasts and traps within. This was going to be interesting.

The spectators area was a set of grandstands set up on one end of the pitch, creating a semicircle around the starting area. A small raised stand for the judges and other VIPs was on one side, while the champions stood with a chosen friend or family member equidistantly around the arc. Hermione's first comment on seeing the setup was to ask what they expected the spectators to watch, since the stands didn't overtop the hedges by more than a meter or two at the top.

"In fourth place, from Beauxbatons Academy, Miss Fleur Delacour!" Cheers resounded as the pretty blonde waved to the crowd. The loudest noises were from the Beauxbatons contingent, but there was a generous applause from everyone else as well.

"In third place, from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Cedric Diggory!"

Again the applause was strongest from his school, but everyone seemed to applaud. His father's shout of "That's my son!" caused some chuckling though.

"In second place, from Durmstrang Institute, Viktor Krum!"

Of all the applause so far, this one seemed the most restrained. The solemn teen waved appreciatively, but Harry could tell he was glad not to be the center of attention.

"And finally, in first place, the Duke of Gryffindor, Harry Potter!"

Harry suppressed a shudder at the tumult that roused. It seemed everyone from every school was cheering, though he did see the Slytherin and Durmstrang students being less joyous. He also saw Hermione's worried face, and tried to smile reassuringly at her.

"Yes yes, congratulations champions," Bagman resumed once the furor died down. "Very well done so far, but you're not done yet. No, before you stands your final task. In the center of this maze is the Triwizard cup. Your task seems simple, get to the cup. The first to reach it shall be our winner. Between you and glory stands this maze, liberally populated with creatures and traps to delay you. Overcome them, beat your opponents to the cup and victory shall be yours!"

"Mr Potter, due to your lead, you have a three minute head start before Mr Krum will join you in the maze. Mr Diggory will join two minutes after that, and Miss Delacour a minute after him. You may begin at the sound of the cannon."

BOOOOOOOM

Harry smiled, it was time. After a lot of discussion with Hermione, they decided that he should probably at least enter the maze, since there was no point in really embarrassing the organizers. Harry had argued that if they hadn't thought to put anti-summoning charms on the bloody cup it was their fault, but Hermione had argued she still had to deal with these people for at least the next few weeks, so there was no need to antagonize them. Once she had her OWLs results and especially after she turned seventeen in the fall, she'd gladly join him in giving them the bird, but until then it was better to play nice.

Stepping into the maze, Harry pulled his staff from its fold, and this time the ruby flared as he directed magic through it. Around him, the air seemed to shimmer, distorting like heat above hot asphalt in the summer. As he approached the first intersection, a 'T', the hedges started to pull back, trying to avoid the heat. A part in the hedge appeared, and Harry stepped through, letting the hedge resume it's normal appearance once he was past.

"He can't do that!" cried the Ministry toad Umbridge, who despite the ruling from the investigation of her actions during the second task was still associated with the tournament. "He can't do that, disqualify him!"

"Now Dolores," McGonagall's calm voice cut through the din. "There are no rules against it. It is an ingenious solution to the obstacle of the maze to be sure, but by no means against the rules."

"I don't care!" Umbridge's skin was puce with rage. "I won't stand for him making a mockery of this event!"

Whatever may have been about to be said was cut off by an inhuman scream from within the hedges. Piercing in its shrill tone, everyone's attention returned to the hedges. Everyone except Hermione, who noted the pleased look on Umbridge's face. A collective gasp turned her head, just in time to see the smoldering remains of a giant spider land in the starting area. Tracing the thin trail of smoke it had left, Hermione saw it had started somewhere in the maze. She smiled as she saw the disappointed look on Umbridge's face while all the rest of the judges seemed appalled.

"Mr Krum, you may… what the blazes?!"

The cause of Bagman's consternation was readily apparent as a silvery thunderbird burst from the hedges, surprising everyone. The patronus landed before her, bowing before her before opening its mouth and Harry's voice sounded.

"Hermione, it's trapped. No choice but to go with plan Backup, double check is active. I love you."

As the patronus finished speaking and began to fade, the chime denoting the end of the task sounded. She had to laugh a little as the judge's looked to the raised dais, as if expecting something to happen there. The look on Umbridge's face, who notably wasn't looking at the dais, was one of satisfaction though. Hermione was almost out of the stands, making her way down the last set of stairs in fact, when the bloody fool made his appearance.

"Miss Granger, what did that message mean?"

"None of your business Mr Dumbledore." Hermione was curt but firm as she brushed past him, heading towards the dais.

"I'm afraid I must insist, I must know what is going on."

"Why? In what capacity do you need that information? You are no longer Headmaster, and even if you were Harry was never one of your students. You're no longer Supreme Mugwump, besides which the IWC has no jurisdiction here. As Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the only title you still hold, you are part of the legislative and judiciary branch of the Ministry, not the investigative, so no urgent need there."

"I assure you I have a need to know."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Hermione waved him off. "What is going on is one of your competitors got kidnapped, despite whatever half assed security measures you had in place. I'm going with Professor McGonagall to retrieve the DMLE and rescue him."

"Now see here-"

"No.," she cut him off as she reached the judge's table. "Headmistress, plan Backup is active, are you ready?"

"Of course dear," McGonagall turned to her fellow judges. "Ladies and gentlemen, this incident was anticipated and contingencies made, I'm leaving with Miss Granger here to see those preparations put into action, we shall return shortly."

"Now wait just a minute!" Umbridge roared, only to find herself talking to empty air as both witches disapparated, leaving everyone shocked. They were still under the wards of Hogwarts, and while the headmistress may have been able to adjust the wards to allow her disapparition, the same could not be said of the Granger girl. Nor was it side along, as they had not been touching. Everyone stared in shock seeing a sixteen years old witch, not even formally trained, apparate out from under the strongest set of wards known.


Harry shook his head to clear it, channeling his magic to relieve the headache that was trying to split his head open. He really hated stunner head, the groggy feeling you always had as the effects of a stunning spell wore off.

"Ah, back among us I see."

Harry looked up, squinting against the bright fire beneath a huge cauldron before him. Beside it stood a short squat rat faced man holding a wrapped bundle. Harry tried to move, and noted that his arms were bound to something large and cold. Glancing to the side, he noted the headstones around him. A graveyard.

"None of that now," the crackly voice came from the bundle. "First you shall witness my return. Wormtail!"

The balding man started, then proceeded to dump the wretched contents of the bundle into the cauldron. The dull green liquid boiled and turned to a vibrant green.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you shall return your son," Peter incanted as he waved his wand. From the earth beneath Harry's feet, a large bone rose and dropped into the pot. The green became a ghostly white as the liquid stirred itself.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed, you shall restore your master."

Wormtail was shaking as he stood, shaking, and withdrew a wicked looking blade from his cloak. Cringing before he even moved, the rat reached up and cut his right hand off. The severed hand plopped into the solution, turning it dull red as it hissed.

Staggering, the rat came over to Harry, cutting him along his exposed forearm with the blade. That's it you idiot, take my blood. Harry thought as he watched the ritual they had predicted move to its final stage.

"Blood of the enemy, forcefully taken, you shall resurrect your foe!"

As Harry's blood dripped from the blade into the cauldron, several things happened. First the liquid inside became a muted yellow and began to boil. The next was the rat passed out, or at least fell over himself backing away, Harry wasn't sure which. And finally, Harry felt Hermione arrive with the backup, just outside the graveyard.

In their research, helpfully aided by Death, they had found this ritual and looked closely at it. The problem arose in that Harry would not be unwilling to give his blood, for he actually wanted Voldemort to return as he could not be defeated otherwise. Some deep theoretical analysis later they figured out it would only weaken Voldemort, not prevent his return. As each offering built upon the last, Harry and Hermione had laughed at the situation. The ritual was all about gaining magic back, so starting with his Muggle father gave him exactly nothing. Wormtail was a waste of magic, so there wasn't much to take there. Now Harry was very powerful, extremely so in fact, but by willingly giving his blood, he severely diminished what could be taken from him. This all led to the muted yellow color of the potion in the giant cauldron, which should have been a bright gold.

The cauldron exploded, sending shards everywhere. Harry wandlessly shielded himself, deflecting several pieces away as from the remains a thin figure rose. Spindly, almost skeletal, with sickly looking skin and sallow features, the man stood. His nose was flat with slits like a snake, and his eyes glowed red as he stretched.

"Robe me, Wormtail." His nasal voice was high and arrogance flooded from it.

Harry looked down at the scrambling noise, and saw Pettigrew picking up a long black set of robes. The material moved in such a way Harry knew they were expensive, probably silk of some sort. Good looking but not practical for most things.

"Your arm, Wormtail."

"Thank you Master, thank you." Wormtail held out the still bleeding stump of his right arm, grateful relief across his face.

"Your other arm you nitwit!" Voldemort snapped, batting the oozing stump aside. Grabbing the left arm of the sobbing Peter, he ripped back the sleeve. There, bare before all, was the dark mark, the tattoo given to all his followers. Harry watched as the evil grin on Tom's face grew before he pressed his wand against the mark. Inky blackness pooled from his wand tip, darkening the tattoo to the point it looked fresh made. "Now we see who answers."

*POP*

*POP*

*POP*

Over the next two minutes, dozens of pops sounded as black robed men and women in Death Eater's masks appeared. By silent count, Harry figured there was just shy of sixty Death Eaters now gathered before the willowy man, but it was obvious there were some missing. He knew Tom's inner council, his lieutenants who made up the front rank, numbered thirteen, of which over half were missing. There were other holes in the crowd, over a dozen more spots were empty.

"Ah, my friends, welcome." Even Harry heard the sarcasm in Tom's voice as he greeted his followers. "I see some have not answered, they shall be dealt with. As shall you."

"My Lord," a tall man in the front row protested. "Had we any clue…"

"There were clues Lucius, you held one yourself for years," Voldemort snarled, ripping the mask from Malfoy Sr's face. "Some stayed loyal. Rockwood, the Lestranges, dear sweet Bella. They stayed true, they never denied me, they went to Azkaban for me, never doubting me. For this, they shall be rewarded."

"I was true, I found you."

"You found me out of fear, Wormtail," the red eyes turned to the kneeling man, but his tone softened. "But you are right, you did come for me, you did serve me. And for this you shall be rewarded."

Voldemort's wand waved, and a silver mist left it and clumped over Peter's stump. Slowly building, the silver pooled and began to grow until where the stump was, a glowing silver hand now appeared. As he watched this, Harry felt the tickle of the anti-disapparition and anti-portkey wards the backup team were raising activate. The time was approaching. He gathered his magic and slipped his bonds.

"Now what to do about the rest of you?" Voldemort returned his glare to his followers. "You doubted me, and I can not have this. Not at all. You thought a babe, a BABE, could defeat me? Well it is time to alleviate your doubts. Before you is that same babe, Harry Potter, all grown up and ready to die. I shall kill him for you, prove to you that I am immortal!"

"Really Tom?" Harry asked, causing Voldemort to turn and his Death Eaters to gasp. "You think I'm just going to let you kill me?"

"How? You were bound, I have your wand."

"A wand is not the only way to use magic Tom, you know that." Harry pulled his staff from his fold as his sword appeared on his back. "And as for your so-called immortality, it's gone."

"What are you talking about you insolent little shit."

"I'm talking about the diary, Tom. You know, the one you gave to Lucius?"

Harry tossed the charred book upon the ground between them.

"He tried to use it to possess a little girl, we purged it and killed Slytherin's monster. Then there was the ring, your ring, though it belonged to the Peverell family first. That must have been some sacrifice, giving that up to house a piece of your soul."

The shining golden ring with the cracked stone joined the diary.

"And your mother's necklace, the one that once belonged to Salazar himself?"

The amulet popped open as it hit the ground, revealing the unblemished and empty interior.

"That had to be hard. I'm sure it was written off though, as a necessary sacrifice. Just like Hufflepuff's cup? Or Ravenclaw's diadem?"

The golden chalice sporting the Hufflepuff crest and the glinting, sapphire ornamented tiara joined the pile.

"All gone Tom. Every one, even the accidental one you created in me, all gone. Death loves playing with them you know. In fact, he is mighty excited to have the whole set; every piece of your tattered, inky black soul. There's just one piece missing, and after tonight, he'll have them all."

"POTTER!" the snake man screamed in unholy rage as he raised his wand. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"No, no, no Tom." Harry said sadly, batting the curse aside. "You have to do this right. We must duel. You know how to duel, don't you Tom?"

The crowd was aghast, for the boy had just deflected the killing curse. The undefeatable, most powerful curse known. No known counter and this boy had just swatted it aside. Even Voldemort was stunned.

"First we bow." Harry bowed towards Voldemort. "Come on Tom, the niceties must be observed."

The assembled Death Eaters saw the fight on their master's face, before his body disobeyed him and bowed to his opponent. They saw the fight, saw his resistance, yet he did it anyway.

"There, now we can begin." Harry smiled at the dark lord, seeing the first hint of fear in those unnatural red eyes. "Come on Tom, you can do it. Try the killing curse again, you love that one. No? Here, I'll make it easier for you."

Harry could almost hear Hermione scolding him as he tossed his staff aside. No, he could hear her, muttering under her breath about foolish boys. She was in position then, now he just needed another killing curse, he hadn't been able to catch the first. He was disappointed.

"Still no? Let me see if I can inspire you." Harry thrust his hand high, and the sky crackled with thunder. Then his hand closed, as if gripping a handle, and pulled it down.

From a cloudless sky a bolt of lightning struck right atop the resurrected dark lord. The bolt struck and held, arcing insane amounts of power through the once powerful man. Once it released its fury, the being that was Voldemort staggered, shaking a bit in aftershocks. His skin was now blemished, bits of char and dark, almost black lines ran where veins would normally be.

"Foolish boy," an obviously posturing Voldemort sneered. "Avada kedavra."

This time Harry was ready. As the sickly green bolt approached, Harry pulled magic to him, ready to pull off his miracle. Magic is just another form of energy, and when they had been discussing the killing curse, Hermione had asked a simple question. If you can't stop it, why not capture it? This had led the couple and even Death on a long discussion and several experiments to find that, with enough control of the natural magics of the world, one could catch the killing curse.

Every Death Eater stood shocked as the fabled Boy-Who-Lived, reached out to the incoming curse, then wrapped his hand around it. It took a second for the action to register, but as it did they saw the boy still standing there, holding a glowing green ball the same color as the killing curse. He was holding the killing curse.

"Very good Tom, very good." Harry tossed the captured spell up and caught it, like a cricket player tossing a ball in his hand. "You know, I actually applaud you Tom? Not your ideals, those are utter codswallop, but the way you used the prejudices of the Purebloods against them. I mean, you are a halfblood and a bastard, and yet these pureblood supremacists kiss your feet. Bravo."

Harry turned to the assembled Death Eaters, still juggling the killing curse.

"And you lot, have you even thought about the consequences of your ideals? I mean, if you get rid of every half and new-blood, who would you get to do all the work? You purebloods are exceptionally lazy, expecting everything to be done for you, but get rid of those you oppress and you'll have to do it yourself. And Merlin forbid you actually try anything with the muggles. I know your education is lacking, but they have weapons that can destroy cities. You let slip your existence and you're dead. And before you think 'we'll just obliviate them', they have these wonderful things called cameras and even better, video cameras. Those are like magical pictures, but can record for much longer, hours even. They can even be watched in real time from miles away. You can obliviate their minds but not that evidence.

"But anyway, your reign of terror is over regardless," Harry turned back to the flabbergasted Voldemort. "Here, this isn't fun to play with anymore."

The green ball he'd been tossing sailed high, arcing. Every other eye in the area watched it, following it, every pair of eyes save two. Unseen by anyone, Hermione leapt into the air, moving towards the center of the semicircle of spectating Death Eaters, her staff raging with power. Harry was also moving, and his sword slapped into his hand just as he began to twist.

Everything happened at once. Voldemort caught the orb of power containing his killing curse. Hermione landed, her invisibility falling as her staff erupted with a wave of energy that washed over all the Death Eaters, stunning them as it passed. And Harry completed his twist, his right arm using all that momentum, the blade in his hand glinting as it separated Voldemort's head from his shoulders.