56. "That right there… That was messed up"
It was time. Harry was prepared to take the final challenge. Everything had been building up to this point. A certain type of relief befell him, if he could make it through this, another attempt at his life would be thwarted.
It was for that exact reason that he was so stressed out now. Cheers rang in his ears as he visually swept the area. Experience had thought him that Voldemort wouldn't leave him be. As dangerous as the tournament was, it didn't have that personal Voldemort touch that he was used to.
"Good luck to you, Harry," Cedric said as he stood beside his fellow Hogwarts champion. Smiling in that charming way of his. It was little wonder why he was so popular. A fact that almost made Harry understand the defensiveness in which Cedric's house had exercised.
Harry nodded and replied, "Same to you. The Hufflepuffs would never forgive me, if I won. Not that I want to. I just want these 'games' to end." Unintentional bitterness escaped his person.
Cedric seemed to cringe, "I apologize for them. They're normally the friendliest lot you'd ever meet. I'm sure when this tournament is over, they'll feel pretty silly for how they're acting," the other Hogwarts champion sounded sincerely embarrassed and disappointed.
"I know," Harry lied decidedly. Harry knew pride and malice; it was never truly satisfied.
Cedric appeared saddened by Harry's disbelief, but smiled encouragingly nonetheless.
"Brave champions, I welcome you to the final task," Dumbledore began, sweeping his wand towards the field. A maze of foliage appeared before the students. "Each champion must navigate through this maze and reach the cup at the center. Prepare yourselves."
Not a moment later, a signal rang and the champions, excluding Harry, raced in. Harry walked in at a rather sedate pace. What happened next nearly caused him to resort to foul language. Dark magic erupted from the center of the hedge maze, the location of the cup, and shook the whole area. Harry's stomach dropped as he felt a nausea from the magic in work.
The sounds and sights of the audience were torn from them as they appeared in front of a harsher audience. Death Eaters stood before the teens in a dark cemetery. Though none of their faces was visible, Harry was acutely aware that they were smirking in self-assurance.
At the forefront of all of them was the strangest. It was a slim man covered in book pages from head to toe. It could only be Voldemort. His eyes were so much duller and crueler than before. "Welcome Harry Potter. I do hope I have not… inconvenienced you. "
"What do you want, Voldemort?" Harry said with a sneer.
Harry felt a kick to the back of his legs as he stumbled. Beside Voldemort now stood the form of Professor Moody. "You will show the Dark Lord the proper respect. All of you on your knees!"
At the sound of his roar, the other champions shakily and reluctantly got on their own knees.
Unlike his fellow champions, Harry was unmoved. "I'm giving him far more respect than he rightly deserves. I knew that there was something strange about you, of course you're working for Voldemort."
"Foolish boy, Moody doesn't have the sense to follow the Dark Lord", at that proclamation, Moody's appearance melted away as a freckled man with a diabolic mania about him appeared. "He could never fathom the magnificence of our Lord ,Voldemort, neither can any of you pathetic little champions."
"Enough," Voldemort commanded easily. "Have you brought the blood of the old fool, Bartemius?"
"Yes my lord. I was able to nick some from Dumbledore before coming here," he brought a vial of blood to the forefront.
"Good my servant. Behold Potter, the instrument of my revival. With the blood of my greatest foe, Lord Voldemort shall rise again."
"Yes, until another toddler foils your delusions of grandeur," Harry said with a snide undercurrent.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed before turning around. The champions realized that there was a large cauldron of fiery sparks.
"Mocking the Dark One is a foolish endeavor," Viktor muttered by Harry's side, his voice thick.
"What's going on?" Cedric asked in fear.
Fleur merely shook in silence.
"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe", Voldemort finished.
Looking up, he saw that Bartemius was holding a bloody limb, his gleeful expression never fading. "Yes, my Lord, return to your greater form!"
White steam seemed to swallow Voldemort's body until a darkness shined. From its depths, a handsome dark haired man arose. Dark eyes scanned the kneeing champions, "I have returned at last. What say you, Potter?" Voldemort questioned in an oddly charismatic voice.
"I think you should've stuck to covering your face", Harry roared before chanting, "If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear! (Genesis of the Colossus)!" A mighty stone arm rose from the ground in time to intercept a barrage of magical spells.
Throughout all this, Voldemort eyed Harry with growing vehemence, "You will learn your place boy! Sectumsempra!"
Harry felt, rather than saw, the flesh of his chest pierced. With a grunt of pain, he fell to the grass beneath him. Focusing on his golem, he willed for it to slam the ground, throwing the Death Eaters to the ground, all but Voldemort. Harry's mind raced as he tried to think of an appropriate spell.
Voldemort lifted his wand once again. A familiar chant leaving his lips: the killing curse.
Harry felt a sense of vertigo as he witnessed time hastily spring back.
"Move, mate!" Ron appeared from the warp in time, alongside Hermione. Seeing the situation, he had pushed Harry out of the way, narrowly avoid the sickly green curse.
All the while, Hermione had erected a magical barrier. One that was barely holding back the string of spells from the Death Eaters.
Hermione looked a mess as she brought a hat to the center. "Everyone hold on!"
None of the competitors questioned her. As magic burst from the hat, Harry stared in the eyes of his mortal enemy. Displeasure radiated in Voldemort's eyes as Harry's grew taunting. In a flash, they were gone.
Leaving Voldemort to curse his followers for their incompetence.
