Voldemort was dead. Yet, as Harry turned beneath his green sheets, a wet, cold sensation slithered up his legs. Kicking outward, Harry's body spun as the sheets wrapped around his legs. Drool slipped from his lips and simmered against his pillowcase. His fingers dug into his thigh as a familiar voice began to hiss in his ear.
"Harry Potter."
Opening his eyes, Harry stood in an empty field. Fog rose and covered the landscape so that all Harry could see a deep, crimson moon above and deep withered grass below. Harry stepped forward, sweat glistening red against his bare chest. His mouth opened, but words would not come out.
"That'ssss my boy." Voldemort's voice hissed as the wind rushed by. Harry's hair fluttered against his forehead as his scare ignited. Dropping to his knees, Harry gripped his head. A migraine pulsed beneath his eyes as the scar glowed.
"We… we killed you." Memories of last year flashed before Harry. The goblet. The tournament. Back then, he had been loyal to Voldemort. Together with Draco, they were planning on resurrecting the Dark Lord and ushering a Gold Age of Wizdery on the world. Until. Until. "You betrayed us!"
"Betrayed. My dear boy." A figure emerged within the fog. Hovering above the Earth, the darkness swept away before him. "You were always just a husk for me to control." Voldemort…
Harry's eyes widened as the moon shone against Cedric Diggory's face. Hands shaking, Harry reached for his wand. Something cold and slimy wrapped around Harry's arms, tugging them back. Digging into the ground, dead grass crumpled within his hands. Cedric came closer.
"No." The words froze on Harry's lips. A hiss greeted him from behind. "Get out of his body!"
Cedric's mouth moved in the motion of a laugh, but only Voldemort's voice came out.
"My dear boy," Voldemort said as Cedric's face burned away, leaving him noseless and pale. "You think you won." Cedric's lips bent into a crooked smile. "But my plans for you are only beginning. Dumbledore thought he could keep it a secret, but a part of me lingers within you." He hissed a laugh.
Harry's body jolted up. Sweat glistening against his skin as the pale crescent moon's light slithered into his room. Stumbling out of his bed, Harry grabbed his Slytherin cloak and rushed into the hall. It wasn't the first time he had dreamt of Lord Voldemort since the end of the Triwizard Tournament. But this… this time, it felt more real. Pain coursed through his head, and Harry dropped to his knees.
This game has only just begun.
Voldemort's voice hissed.
Traitor.
Harry blacked out.