Here we are again. We obviously didn't get there last chapter, so let's dive straight into Voldie being his usual, dramatic self.

Reviews are appreciated, and … Perhaps we will catch a glimpse of 'Don Mac' here, who knows… Who is still unidentified… Hint: he's not an OC. Or his true identity isn't.

Harry POV

As he dimly became aware of his environment again, he wanted to look around. But he didn't get the time. Hands pulled him up, dragged him to a headstone and conjured ropes to tie him up. In the distance, he could see the Triwizard Cup shining in the dark, and next to it lay Cedric and Jane on the ground. In the darkness, he could not see whether Jane was still breathing…

He knew it would do no good to struggle, so he kept quiet and allowed to be tied up.

"The girl, too," a high voice said, coming from robes on the ground Harry only just noticed. "I have plans for her…"

Something about the tone of that voice, made Harry very nervous. A sense of foreboding overcame him, along with fear, fear like he'd never felt before.

Jane was left behind crumbled to a nearby headstone, unconscious but alive - although tied up.

Cedric had no such luck, and the heart wrenching reality slowly settled in.

The person who had tied him up - Harry didn't recognise him - had disappeared from sight. He heard him, though, sounding like he was dragging something along. Indeed, when he came back in sight, he was pushing along the largest kettle Harry had seen.

"Check in on the girl, and hurry!", the voice said. Somewhere out of the darkness, a figure came. When he bent down to examine Jane, Harry recognised him - Pettigrew.* "You!," he said.

The other man was meanwhile poking under the kettle, getting the fire started. As the liquid started to bubble, he added his ingredients. Knots tied in Harry's stomach; he had no idea what the Potion was supposed to do, but he was sure he wanted it to fail…

"Bone of the father…", the man started to chant.

Harry wanted to scream when he realised what the intention was.

They wanted to give Voldemort his body back.

Jane POV

As she regained consciousness, she felt a splitting headache. Something was niggling, on the back of her mind… She'd forgotten something important…

"Well, well," a high, cold voice said menacingly. Jane felt herself stiffen. "In such high company I am tonight…"

She opened her eyes.

And had to fight down the urge to scream.

The pale, snake-like face, complete with red eyes, was unmistakingly that of Lord Voldemort.

He had his body back.

Swallowing, she couldn't bring herself to reply. Instead, she looked around. On the far right, Cedric was on the ground, dead; just next to him the Tri-Wizard Cup. Closer by, Harry was tied up to a headstone, bleeding from his arm - although not excessively, luckily.

Then, she realised there were more urgent problems.

"Your arm, Don," Voldemort said, gesturing to the man wearing Death Eater robes she only just noticed. A little to her left, there was a still figure, sobbing quietly. She didn't recognise him, but she soon realised most of the blood came from him, from the stump that had once been his hand. Harry looked at the figure, hatred visible in his eyes.

"And now, it will be happening…", Voldemort said. "Who shall return to my side, and who shall be foolish enough to choose to be my enemy?"

He started to pace; Jane, followed him with her eyes, pure fear taking over, nearly masking what he said. "You are standing on what remains of my late father, Harry Potter… A muggle and just as foolish as your mother, although they both served their purpose…" Jane saw the anger flashing in Harry's eyes, although he kept his mouth shut. "But see, here comes my real family…"

And indeed, unfortunately, the Death Eaters started appearing, and formed a circle. They left gaps, probably for people who wouldn't come.

"Ah, my friends," Voldemort started his little triumph speech. "Here we are again… You came here, as fast as you could, as if nothing had happened… But, where were you when I needed you most? Where were you the past thirteen years? Did you, by any chance, think I was … Beaten?"

A shiver ran down Jane's spine; everything in her screamed 'danger!'. The Death Eater seemed to agree; they shifted uncomfortably.

"Perhaps you thought, there was someone more powerful? Perhaps you thought to seek protection near the ones we fought? Do I smell the stench of guilty consciences?"

While he continued preaching, Jane tested the robes that bound her. Her only chance - theirs, actually - was to escape, to run. There was some leeway, but that was all. If she could get to the knife hidden in her pocket, if she could cut the ropes unseen…

"My Lord," a voice she recognised said, "how come…", he trailed off.

"It appears, my lord, Lucius here is quite curious," another voice said venomously, "he desires to know how you accomplished such a feat?"

"Ah, my dear Lucius," was the reply, "that is quite the story… Our young hero here, forms the start of it. I went to kill him… And the boy's foolish mother sacrificed herself for him. I had, unfortunately, not foreseen what a protection that would offer him. I was rendered a shade of my past self, forced myself to exist… I possessed animals in Albania, but they died soon, as they were incapable of hosting my powers. Then, a foolish wizard crossed my path; I possessed him, and went to steal the Philosopher's Stone. I had learned that Dumbledore knew where it was, and it would allow me to have my body and powers back. But when I attempted to steal it, this foolish boy again bothered me. I had to leave my servant… And was back to where I was. For I knew, the Stone would be destroyed.

I must admit, that I felt disheartened at the lack of attention of my faithfull Death Eaters."

Another shiver ran through the Death Eaters.

"But then, our other guest enters the story. Our dear ambassador, over here, chased Wormtail out of his hiding place, aided by people he considered friends. As he had no other choice, he came to find me, in the woods of Albania. He talked to rats, and his dirty little friends told him about the place in the depth of the forest they would never set foot into, since a shadow possessed them there. But then, he walked into a problem. He walked straight into the arms of Bertha Jorkins. Admittedly, Wormtail showed more intelligence than I had ever thought him capable. He managed to convince her to go for a walk, disarmed her and brought her to me. And she, who could have ruined it all, actually proved to be of value. She told me about the Tri-Wizard Tournament. She told me, about a faithful servant, unable to come to my aid. She told me many, many things; although not voluntarily. The methods I used to make her talk had rendered her useless, thus, I murdered her. And that, is how this came to pass: I brought together my archenemy, the remnants of my father, and the flesh of the servant."

Jane privately thought that he certainly didn't kidnap them; he didn't bring anyone together. But it was useless to talk back to a madman.

"And thus, the boy's protection is now in my veins," Voldemort continued, approaching Harry. "I can now touch him."

As he did so, Jane felt pain surge through Harry, and she swallowed back bile. That Lily's protection was no longer effective, was not good. Certainly not now. But at the same time, she felt hope: one third of the rope was through, and no one had noticed a thing.

"But now to our other guest," Voldemort continued, walking over to her. She clenched her fist around the knife, cutting in her flesh. It would be a small price to pay, if they could escape…

"I had thought, to just kill you," he continued, watching her in the eye, his head tilted thoughtfully. "But then, there are - according to you - worse things than that. You are a meddlesome little thing; I must control your meddling…"

Ice cold fear settled in her stomach. She had no idea what he planned for her, but it wouldn't be good.

"I will take your wand to kill Harry Potter, and then send you back."

Jane felt more fearful when she understood: the use of her wand would effectively point to her as the murderer. Harry would be dead, she would be imprisoned, and no matter how many times she'd repeat it, no one would believe it was Voldemort. They'd think it was a way to walk free… And her government would have more urgent matters to think about. The attention would be entirely focussed on the scandal, not on Voldemort's return.

"But for those of you unconvinced of my powers, I will now duel the Boy-Who-Lived."

Jane felt her heart sink. Harry was in no way a bad dueler; but Voldemort was a whole other category. Together, they might've stood a chance…

Harry POV

As his wand was pressed into his hand, and he slowly regained his bearings, he looked around. The Death Eaters now formed a close circle, preventing him from running. Don was avoiding his eyes; intellectually, he knew that Don had no choice when he was ordered to tie Harry up, but it still unsettled him. Jane was still working on cutting the ropes that tied her up; so he would do well to put up a show…

"The boy has been thought to duel, my Lord," Pettigrew said. He had finished examining his new hand. Harry felt resentment swell inside him; it was not enough Peter had betrayed his friends and condemned them to death, left Sirius to a fate worse than death and took everything from Remus; no, he had to actively help murder his best friend's son, after resurecting his murderer.

"First we bow, Harry Potter," the creepy white face hisses.

Harry stood, unmoving. Bowing might be common in Dueling as a sport; this was war, and Moody had made himself quite clear: in war, those customs were dead and buried. Or you would be dead and buried.

"Bow, I said!", Voldemort snapped, anger on his face. Apparently, not participating in his theatrics was not appreciated. Harry felt his back bow against his will, while the Death Eaters laughed.

"And now, we begin to duel," Voldemort continued. Before he could move, he was hit yet again with the Cruciatus Curse. The pain shooting through him was indescribable. Knives stabbing him, acid burning in his veins, the pain was so intense. There was no escape as he screamed and screamed, until he tasted metal and then screamed some more. For the first time, he could really understand how his aunt and uncle had died while being held under the curse. The human body was not made for this…

Finally, Voldemort released the curse. In the background, he could see Jane looking more pale than ever. Harry himself trembled like he'd never trembled before. When he attempted to get up, his legs couldn't hold his weight and he stumbled against the Death Eaters.

Harry stumbled away from the Death Eaters, panting. "That was unpleasant, was it not, Harry Potter?"

Harry stared back to the snake-like face. He would not give Voldemort the satisfaction to beg, to plead; it would make no difference.

"Answer me! Imperio!"

And suddenly, the pain was gone. It was the most blissful sensation Harry ever felt… Total absence of pain and fear, like he was floating through the air.

Say no…

A voice commanded him. He frowned; why would he say no? To what?

Just say no…

No, thanks, another voice said. Why would I?

No.

"I don't!", Harry screamed suddenly.

"Will you not obey me, Harry?", Voldemort whispered. Dread filled Harry's stomach; something bad was to come, he just felt it. "Obedience is a virtue… Perhaps another dosis pain will teach you that…"

But this time, Harry was prepared. Trust Voldemort to announce his curse before shooting it, he thought. He ducked behind the headstone; as Voldemort's curse collided with it, the headstone crumbled to dust. At the same time, he could hear Jane running, and prayed she would make it…

All too soon, he heard her footsteps stop abruptly.

"Come out and bow to death, Harry," Voldemort said. "Come, or your friend will meet her unfortunate demise…"

Harry hesitated. It would do them no good to return; if he could escape, he could come back with help…

A scream pierced the night. "You have thirty minutes before she bleeds to death, Harry Potter. Her fate is in your hands."

He closed his eyes. They could never gather a rescue party in thirty minutes… As he leaned to the left to peek around the corner, he heard something crispering. A note in his pocket.

The Trophee is a two-way Portkey

A two-way Portkey! He'd never expected that - if they could just get to the damn thing…

But then he needed to walk straight through the Death Eater circle…

Pushing himself off with his left hand, he shouted: "Bombarda!"

His curse hit the grounds before Voldemort. In his fear, he had made it more strongly than he meant to; the ground splattering about forced the Death Eaters to conjure shields, and Harry ran straight through them, felt more then he saw that Jane was running along, grabbed her hand to stabilise her-

As Death Eaters chased them, Harry randomly pointed his wand backwards: "Impedimenta! Stupefy!"

Bodies hit the ground, someone shouted. He continued running, grabbed Jane by the elbow instead of the hand when he felt her slow down, stumble.

"Impedimenta!", Harry shouted another time, pointing backwards again.

Voldemort screamed: "Get clear! Now he's mine!"

Jane stumbled, and Harry couldn't correct. They fell hard on the ground, the Trophee meters away-

"Accio," Jane mumbled, barely audible - but the Trophee came zooming towards them, aided by Jane's ability to move objects with her mental shield-

And Harry grabbed Cedric's wrist, as both he and Jane reached out and found an ear. A tug, and they were gone, while Voldemort screamed in anger in the background.

Hermione POV

Ever since Angelina came out of the maze, she couldn't stop sobbing. Ron had, at some point, reached out and held her close, rubbing circles on her back. He made no attempt to tell her it would be alright, and she appreciated him for it. Neville sat next to her, staring vacantly in space. The other Weasley's - Mrs. Weasley and Bill - sat quietly next to them, not knowing what to say or do; for what was there left to be said?

Henry stood there, a look of sorrow on her face. Lara was openly, but silently, crying. The PMs were arguing - Fudge seemed to be under the impression it was all part of the Tournament. Honestly, how the man became minister, it would forever be a mystery to her. For what seemed to be the millionth time, the French PM asked permission to view the underage magic records, hoping to find out where the two were. Dumbledore seconded that, but the minister insisted on Harry's privacy. Sirius looked like he might jump on Fudge and take a bite out of him - since the Minister refused to recognise his innocence, he could not officially be there - and he'd even managed to make Remus lose his patience.

Shouting. All of a sudden, the emotions in the mass had become different, and Hermione sniffed and dried her tears, looking up from where she had been crying on Ron's shoulder.

Harry, Jane and Cedric had appeared at the side of the maze.

They didn't move.

A great deal of shouting followed. Both PMs ran towards the trio, but Henry outran them. Hermione and Ron, closer to the exit, followed closely behind. Coming up close, she swallowed as she found a lot of blood, both on Harry as on Jane.

"Merlin's beard," she heard Fudge say. "He's dead. Diggory is dead!"

Impossible, was her first thought. She whirled around from where she had been watching Henry search Jane's body for wounds, while Dumbledore looked over Harry.

It was true.

Hermione felt her stomach drop; whatever had happened, it must've been bad.

A faint whisper reached her ears. "He's back. Vol-... Voldemort. He's back…"

She whirled around again. Harry had opened his eyes, although they were unfocussed. He had grabbed Dumbledore's wrist. There was something in his eyes that seemed broken, old, as if he'd seen things no one his age was meant to see - and that was probably true, Hermione thought.

Dumbledore hauled Harry to his feet, whispering reassurances as Harry swayed on the spot. It was a pandemonium.

"He needs to get to the Hospital Wing," Fudge said importantly. "He needs medical attention-"

"No, I want Harry to stay-" Dumbledore was saying.

"Diggory's on his way, Dumbledore - should you talk to him…?"

Hermione felt her heart clench at the thought of such a conversation. Ron tightened the grip on her hand.

Henry was working fast all the time on Jane, but there was just so much blood-

Henry had conjured a cloth, pressing it hard to the wound. Jane screamed, and Hermione flinched. Henry, however, swiftly scooped her up in his arms and began half running to the hospital wing.

"I'll take Potter," someone said - Moody.

"Cedric!", she heard someone shout, and she flinched yet again. "My boy!" A tormented scream, and a man dropped on his knees next to the body, followed by a woman who could only be his mother. Molly Weasley placed her hand on their shoulders. The crowd looked away, awkwardly.

Jean stalked towards the castle.

After a few minutes, the Head of Houses remember who they are.

"Come on, students, to the Common Room!", professor McGonagall states firmly. She takes on the Lions and the Ravenclaws, while Snape takes his students. Professor Flitwick, always more sensitive, quietly collects the Hufflepuffs. Cedric was loved and well known…

Was. Another near-death experience for Harry. For all she knew, it could've easily been he who lay dead, or was bleeding out on the school's grounds. Hermione staggered, as the thought settled in. She could've easily lost two of her best friends. The two people, who had taken them under their wings. Jane, who had easily accepted her as she was, who had shown her to always continue to fight to be the best version of herself. Harry, who had shown her bravery and courage in the face of danger.

Dimly, she gathered one thought in her head: she needed to know they were okay. She started to run, Ron and the Weasleys following her, all the way to the Hospital Wing. Once arrived, she noticed that mrs. Weasley had remained behind. Hermione stalked to the doors and pushed them open, ignoring Bill.

"Where is Harry?", she asked Madame Pomphrey.

"Miss Granger, I'll thank you not to barge in like that! I have not seen Potter, he's probably with the Headmaster-"

Blood drained from her face. "No, he's not," she whispered. "Moody took him, around the time you left Henry…"

And he already should've been here.

"And Jane?", she asked quickly.

"See for yourself," Henry replied absentmindedly. "She's in luck; since her spleen has been removed, it wasn't hit, reducing internal bleeding. Once the wound was closed and the blood-replenishing Potion administered… She'll be okay in twelve hours. Just sleeping now."

Hermione stalked to the curtains.

And let out a scream.

Jane POV

The moment they had returned was blurry. She heard screaming, it took a while before she realised she was the one screaming. After she'd cut the ropes, and at the moment Harry had created a diversion by ducking behind a headstone, she'd tried to run. Her ankle, however, had prevented her from running as hard as she should be running. Death Eaters caught her.

And then Voldemort had plunged the knife into her body.

She'd been lucky; the blade had not been cursed. Her ability to heal herself had made sure she knew that. But, unlike what she'd expected, it did not immediately kick in. Harry, not knowing how severe her injury was, had come running and they'd escaped together thanks to a lucky Bombarda.

Once returned, she only became aware of her surroundings in the Hospital Wing. Dimly, because her shields were rather low, she'd felt Harry's panic. She had realised he was not there, and knew something was wrong. She had protested, she had fought. To no avail. Once they'd force-fed her a sleeping draught, she'd pretended to fall asleep. Once the curtains were drawn, she executed her quickly formed plan.

"Come quietly, Treaty," she whispered.

And as she had hoped, Treaty appeared silently next to her bed.

"I need you to take me to the main entrance," she whispered.

And Treaty, not able to disobey her - she, who technically owned the elf, as a legal adult - had taken her. Now, she was tracking Harry's feelings. It wasn't hard; she felt the same horror as he was feeling. She frowned, as she didn't recognise who he was with.

Impossible, since no one she didn't know had been on the grounds tonight.

She'd followed them until they arrived at Moody's personal room. Frowning, she pushed the door open, walking in.

Empty.

Alarm bells were ringing in her head. Alastor Moody, leaving the grounds in such a crucial time? The Alastor Moody she knew would never do that-

So what if this Alastor Moody wasn't Alastor Moody?

She stalked aggressively to the table, where she saw his hip flask, forgotten on the table. Turned it upside down.

Polyjuice Potion.

She closed her eyes. The clues had been staring in her face: Moody had said that Arthur Weasley had helped him the day before he left for Hogwarts. Only it hadn't been Moody who greeted Arthur… And then, later, when Moody had been near Snape's office, after Harry had been caught after solving the clue of the egg… None of them had questioned what he was doing there. He had inspected the Gillyweed right before the Task - an excellent opportunity to poison it - and participated in the search for them. He'd been in the perfect position to make Crouch sr. disappear. Nausea overtook her, and she desperately tried to get a sense of who he was.

She sensed Moody.

She looked around.

The trunk.

Grabbing the keys from the table, she opened all seven locks. At the seventh, she cursed. Jane jumped straight into the hole, put her cloak over the sleeping man. She quickly scanned him with closed eyes.

"Treaty!", she shouted. "Get him to the Hospital Wing. Tell Pomphrey: stunned, under Imperius curse, weakened."

She stalked out of the room, ignoring the pain erupting from her side.

Ron POV

Years with Harry paid off as, when Hermione let out a piercing scream, he was around the curtains with his wand ready before the others had moved.

The bed was empty.

"This is impossible! We gave her a strong Sleeping Draught, she's too injured," Madame Pomphrey was saying.

Henry and Hermione shared a glance. Henry seemed to reach a decision. "Jane… Her Magic is adept at Healing. … Since we gave her the necessary Potions and healed the cut."

"But the Sleeping Draught-"

Hermione caught on first - not unsurprising. "Maybe she cured herself from its influence… If she perceived it as a threat…"

"Because she needed to tell us something," Ron realised. After knowing Hermione for so long, it was not difficult to see what she was trying to say.

"Probably went to see Dumbledore," Henry decided. "I'll find her and bring her back."

"She has a nasty habit of escaping," Pomphrey sniffed.

Ron frowned. "What about Harry? Where is he?"

Silence. Jean sighed. "The most logical conclusion is that he is in Dumbledore's office. However, I would feel better if all of you went to the Gryffindor Common Room. That way people can keep an eye on you, strength in numbers and all that…"

As Ron expected, his mother and Bill decided to come, too. It was thus in complete silence they walked back, until Bill broke it.

"I've never heard of Magic behaving like that," he said thoughtfully, "I wonder how that happened…"

"William Weasley! That's none of your business!", his mother screeched. As they reached the Portrait, they were still arguing. He and Hermione used the distraction to sneak out to the Dormitory of the fourth year's boys, hoping without saying it that Harry would be there.

He wasn't.

But Jane was.

She looked up. "Harry's missing," she said in a detached voice that made Ron's heart clench. It was as if something inside her had died; the usual attention and liveliness she displayed, was gone.

"How do you mean?", Ron snapped. No one telling them something was starting to annoy him.

Jane closed her eyes. "When he didn't follow us, when I realised Moody had taken him… I was worried. I followed his emotions… They went to Moody's office. Except that it wasn't Moody-"

"How do you mean?", Hermione interrupted. "We've had class with him-"

Jane opened her eyes. "I don't think it was him. Think about it: Moody's known for never using excessive force, but he's proficient enough with the Imperius curse. He showed them in a class highly affected by them, at age fourteen. He took Harry when Dumbledore forbade him to. What was he doing in Snape's office, when he nearly caught Harry?"

"My dad went to help him out-"

"I don't think that was the real Moody. His hip flask contains Polyjuice Potion. The how and so on, I don't really care for now. But Harry has gone with him, and no one has an idea where to."

Horror sized him as he realised what that meant. Harry, after whatever had happened tonight, in the hands of a Death Eater…

"So what do we do?", he asked.

Jane grimaced. "I can think of only one thing: if I pull all my shields down, I might get a sense of where he is."

Hermione looked alarmed. "You've never tried that before! It could go horribly wrong-"

Jane sighed. "I know," she muttered tiredly. She looked up pleadingly. "But I have to try - I have to try everything I can to help him. Yes, I might pass out, yes, it might cause a coma. But I know I won't die, and we need this intel. We have nothing, 'Mione. Nothing. No leads, no ideas, no witnesses. Nothing."

Hermione swallowed. "Okay. But the moment it goes wrong, I'm calling-"

"Yes," Jane agreed.

She lowered herself onto Harry's bed. "It's easier when I'm close to something that was his," she explained. She closed her eyes. Her breathing slowed, her brow furrowed. Minutes later, beads of sweat were forming on her face.

Then she screamed.

Jane POV

As she sat down, she tried to empty her mind. She tried to focus on her breathing, and slowly, layer after layer, she tried to pull her shields down.

It wasn't easy; it seemed her shields had a mind of their own, and quite liked where they were. But she was nothing if not stubborn, and layer after layer fell. Suddenly, a whole lot of emotions flooded her. If she had not been seated, she'd have collapsed. It felt like she was in a vortex, and she desperately sought for an anchor.

Sorrow, deep sorrow. It felt like Cedric, and yet different. His parents. Closer by, she felt the worry radiating of several Gryffindors, and she felt constricted. She forced her breathing to remain calm, trying to find an anchor in this strange, new experience of the world.

Hermione. Clever, worried, stable, intelligent. Ron, loyal and fierce, yet worried himself. More loyalty, she felt, closer by, a shadow of Harry had remained in his bed. She tried to focus on it, tried to extent her awareness - and suddenly - she was Harry.

It had never happened before like this, and she felt herself panic. She couldn't get out -

It wasn't only her panic. It was Harry's, too. She forced herself to take in what she could.

Harry was in a dark, confined space. She could smell dirt, plants, decay. She tried to feel around-

Jane?

She'd made contact. Back at Hogwarts, she felt a headache building at the strain it cost her to keep the connection up.

Harry. What happened? Where are you?

Dunno, he replied. Moody took me from the maze… Sorrow enveloped him as he remembered what happened before that.

Harry, focus. What happened after that?

Moody took me to his room. Asked what happened… Asked whether Voldemort had forgiven the Death Eaters. Grew suspicious; it didn't sound like him. Tried to raise an alarm, but we were in his room. At that point, he'd made me drink a Potion. When I tried to resist, he Stunned me. Woke up here.

She thought quickly. If he was stunned, he wouldn't know where he was. She was sure he was not at Hogwarts, but outside that…

Try and feel around, since you can't see anything, she suggested.

Harry did so. I feel dirt. Someone dug a hole in the ground-

As he stopped talking, she heard it, too.

Footsteps.

Her stomach clenched.

Go, he thought frantically. Go!

Can't, she replied. Don't know how.

She could feel the panic rising, as suddenly, light came from above him. A figure loomed above the space. Someone Jane had never expected to see again.

That's Barty Crouch Jr, she thought. He tortured us and was convicted of the torture of the Longbottoms.

I know, came the desperate answer.

"So, Potty's awake," the man sneered with a deranged smile. "How kind of you to join us. My master had not dismissed you last time, see? It's very rude to just run off without saying… your goodbyes." He giggled. "Come now, ickle baby Potty. Incarcerous!"

Not that it matters, Harry thought. Don't have a wand on me anyways…

That's it! He's the one who stole your wand at the World Cup! His daddy broke him out of Azkaban… The house-elf guarded him. That's why he was so angry when she was found at the clearing - it meant his son was there, too!

And how does that knowledge help us?, Harry thought miserably.

I'm gonna get you out of there, she promised.

Crouch Jr. lifted Harry out of the hole with his wand. With a muttered incantation, Harry was blindfolded and led through what sounded like a forest.

Panic rose for Jane. There were a trillion forests in the UK, so which one was the right one?

Harry stumbled a bit, as he had to walk over stairs blindfolded. They walked up to what felt like a small cabin in the woods - another thing you found everywhere - and the blindfold was removed.

Lord Voldemort was sitting casually in a chair, near the fire. "Harry Potter…," he whispered, "how nice of you to join us…" He smiled evilly. "Crucio!"

Pain erupted. Pain like she'd never felt before. Dimly, she realised she could feel both hers and Harry's pain, and that she needed to let go or she'd go mad. She had to help-

She blinked. A pair of strong arms engulfed her, Hermione softly calling her name. A worried frown had formed on her face. Jane dimly realised the arms she was struggling against were Ron's, that he held her firmly to prevent her from tearing the still not fully healed wound on her side open.

She blinked the tears out of her eyes. "I know where he is," she said hoarsely.

* I know that Pettigrew is often referred to as 'Wormtail'. But here, Harry sees the nicknames Padfoot and Moony used more often, as a sign of their friendship. Wormtail is no longer worthy of this recognition, meaning that he's calling him Peter Pettigrew. In canon, he barely knew Lupin and Sirius; let alone calling them by their nicknames. Meaning that Wormtail held less meaning to him. Voldemort calls him Wormtail to constantly remind him of what he has lost, of the fact that no one but Voldemort will aid him.

Voldie's speech is not literally JKR's - I didn't feel like typing it over or copy-pasting it, so I just made my own, because I guess I felt like it, or something? Can't explain it, sorry…

Another thing: no connection between the wands - for now. I might safe that for later, or not at all; the Harry in Canon only had access to Expelliarmus as a Dueling spell, this Harry has had training to Duel and knows to use each and every spell available. More experience and all that.