Meanwhile, as Tom and Ron were escorted to Professor McGonagall's office, Harry was being hugged heavily by a very worried Sirius and Remus at Grimmauld Place. They hadn't managed to get him to talk yet, except to chokingly tell them the Dark Lady was back again and that Cedric was dead. Just painfully silent hugs and neither of the older men felt equipped to handle the situation facing them-they'd have given anything to have James and Lily there.
Finally, though, Harry started talking, almost muffled by Sirius's jacket as he was held tightly. It had felt like the words had been stuck for the past couple of hours, wanting to come out, but there had been a wall. But the dam burst, and he finally could talk.
"I don't know how I'm alive," he said, his voice starting out low and getting higher and louder with distress. "She avaded me and for a moment there was this white, bright place-it looked like King's Cross but it was completely empty. And then there was Cedric and Mum and Dad and oh god they were there all together on a bench. And I'd just seen them before when her wand started showing ghosts and the people she'd killed. Mum and Dad kissed me on the forehead and told me I needed to go back to both of you." Harry started to choke up with tears but he wasn't alone in his distress as both Remus and Sirius had tears streaming down their cheeks. "And Cedric too. He was there and he told me that I wasn't dead yet and I had to go back. He told me to live for him." Harry was shaking in their arms but he knew that Sirius and Remus couldn't comfort him.
"Again," said Sirius, looking so relieved that Harry wondered if Sirius would fall apart if he did ever actually die. "I found you in the wreckage of James and Lily's house alive but injured and I am so relieved to see you lived again." His expression wavered as if he was close to tears and Harry realized yes, he would.
Harry didn't know how to explain to them that he had actually died. He didn't understand himself how he managed to survive the Killing Curse again—not that anything about that evening had made sense. The memory was so horrible that it seemed unreal.
He watched in horror as Wormtail put the monstrous thing in the cauldron, followed by the bone of her father, Wormtail's severed hand, and then...his own blood, cut open from his forearm and collected in a vial.
When that last ingredient had gone in, an enormous cloud of steam rose from the cauldron and covered the whole graveyard. He desperately prayed for her to drown, hoping that he wouldn't have to witness whatever that potion would do to her. And, slowly, the steam cleared, and Harry was horrified to see the outline of a skeletally-thin woman next to the cauldron wearing simple long robes. Her face was broken by an intense grin, looking in awe at her limbs and new body. Slowly she became more revealed as the steam cleared, like a turn for the worst in nightmares. A high, triumphant laugh pierced the night, feeling like the stab of a knife through his scar and making him whimper in pain.
She glanced up, red dots in the darkness, and then began moving towards him. As she grew closer the pain in his scar was so overwhelming that black dots danced in his vision but he couldn't turn away from the sight of her. Her hair moved of its own accord, writhing shadows so that he almost through she had snakes for hair—but no, it merely looked like Medusa's in the dark.
"We meet again, Harry," she said, her cadaverously pale skin stretched too tightly over the hand that almost reached out to touch him, her claw-like fingernails so close that only the sheer tightness of his bindings kept him from recoiling. Her smile grew triumphant at the sight of him in pain. "The time has come to rectify the problem you have become. But first I have things that I must take care of..."
Turning away from him gave momentary relief from the pain, but he found with the concentration his eyes darted back and forth between her and Cedric's crumpled body in the dark. She came to kneel next to Wormtail, who was curled up and sobbing while clutching the stump left of his arm. "Peter," she said, "calm yourself. Hold out your arm. I promised that I would give you a far greater arm for the one you lost."
He did, sniffling, in too much pain to be terrified. Her too-pale lips were in a thin line as she carefully unwrapped the bloody stump from his robe. Her distaste for Peter was visibly obvious, far more than disgust at the blood, but Wormtail was crying too hard to notice. She pulled a wand from her robe pocket, and just for a moment looked at it as one would a dear friend they have not seen in a dearly long time. But the moment faded and she waved the wand above the stump of an arm. A molten silver arm formed like a glove even as she stood again, wiping the blood on her black robes.
"My Lady," he said, "it is beautiful. Thank you."
He kneeled at her feet, and she placed her eerie claw hand on his shoulder. Harry, from his angle, could see how his eyes widened in fear. "Rise. While I do not trust you-your utter betrayal of the people you grew up with certainly will translate to betraying us if you think the situation is right-you alone found me. Let no one tell you that you are not a Gryffindor. Your rewards for aiding my rebirth will be great. But first, the celebration party must have guests."
She grabbed his other arm, twisting it so that the underside was facing towards her. There was a dark tattoo of a skull with the snake coming out of it's mouth, inflamed and raw like it had just been burnt on. "The others must have noticed their marks growing darker-now we will see who will prove their loyalty to our cause to be true. This is a night of rebirth! Not just for me, but for our cause. The tide will turn again in our favor to control the Muggle infestation. This will hurt, but it is for a greater cause." She took her wand and put it to the tattoo, and the smell of burning flesh filled the graveyard. Wormtail screamed then sobbed.
She let Wormtail go to let him collapse to the ground again and turned back to Harry. She walked over, close, and Harry wanted nothing more than for her to step back away from him. "Harry, you are tied to the memorial to my late Muggle father. It's fitting, really." Her smooth expression scrunched in anger, very visible on the too stretched-thin skin, at the memory. "It is justice, in a way, that he helped my revival, considering what suffering he caused. It is unfortunate that you must die, but I don't think I could convince you of the error of your ways. You're a resourceful young man and you could become great, with the proper training. Muggles are the bane of existence to all wizards but Dumbledore has his hooks too deep in you to get you to change your mind. Such a pitiful waste."
"You are just angry at your father!" he shouted at her. "I'd never work with you."
"You sorely underestimate me. Do you think the cruelty of one man would fuel my complete faith that Muggles are dangerous? Oh no, and considering your aunt and uncle, I would think you'd agree. Muggles fear what they don't understand-and magic is a far greater concept than Muggles can appreciate."
That stung painfully—and that she knew that at all concerned him-but then there were loud cracking sound, then another shortly after, and then the graveyard was filled with the loud sounds like gunfire all in the graveyard.
She gestured to those arriving. "Behold, my true family, and those that shall help save wizarding kind!"
Dark hooded figures, wearing metal masks, came forward into a semi-circle around the tombstone.
"My Lady," many muttered, some crawling to kiss the hems of her robes.
"Cease your kneeling. Rise and return to your places. We have much to discuss," she said, and they all quickly rose and moved back.
She strode among them, her hair coiling around her head, wild shadows with no real tangible form. "Do not be alarmed by my appearance. I went to great lengths to make sure I was immortal, but all plans have drawbacks," she said calmly, almost soothing. "Considering the lack of resources and aid at my disposal, this was the only option left to me. The Dark Arts is simply going against the grain of the laws of nature, and nature punishes us by making us into what humans fear as to deter us. I am still the witch you remember."
"But," she said, her voice suddenly harsh. Her eyes glowed far brighter, like flames lighting up the inside of her skull, her hair flaring in anger. "What concerns me far more is the fact that all of you present tonight left me to wander as a shade for thirteen years, forced to possess the bodies of animals to survive! I ask all of you: how do you explain yourselves?" There was palpably uncomfortable silence.
She reached out suddenly, and grabbed someone by the throat by one hand. Despite her being shorter than him, the Death Eater was clearly frightened. "How about we begin with you, Lucius? All the sacrifices I make for all of us and you run into your manor at the first chance to hide like a dog with your tail between your legs? Not that you were alone in your cowardice."
The crowd visibly moved away from the pair, and Harry could hear the hoarse terror in Malfoy's voice. "My Lady, had there been any word I would have been at your side in an instant, as well as many of us-"
She pushed him away and Harry could hear Malfoy gasping in the dark. "Did all of you think that I would not rise again? Did you think that one setback would ruin me? You all swore eternal loyalty to our cause, and I to serving it as well—and you, the generation that was to create a wizarding culture as that of days long old! I am but an instrument of power for the vision we created together. I have dedicated my life to protecting your families, your legacies, and the future for your descendants from the scourge of Muggles! And yet only a handful of you stayed true. So many of you claimed to have been bewitched, coerced, lied to in the trials and halls of the Ministry. You slithered back into polite society with seemingly not a care." No one wanted to stand near her as she strode around the ring.
"Mistress, please, forgive us!" begged someone, breaking the silence and falling to their knees. "We never forgot! We always believed! Where were we to look? Others looked but no trace of you was left." He sobbed at her feet, and there was a moment where she trembled with rage, and Harry wondered if she'd hurt him.
However, she surprised him when she sighed. "Get up, Nott. Truly, as angry and as betrayed as I feel, we needed people in society to make sure that the Muggle-lovers didn't go in and destroy what is left of our beautiful world. It would be of no use to us if only blood traitors were around to continue their lines and teach their families the old ways of dark magic and tradition. And I was foolish in not making a backup plan in the event that something should occur to me. Don't worry, after tonight, we shall be far more prepared in our renewal. I will live forever, but I will make sure our cause remains strong with or without my presence."
Nott scrambled over back to his spot, not even standing up till he was back in the circle again. She ignored him, walking amongst the group, "I grew careless as I grew more powerful. There is a damaging overgrowth of self-confidence when you become one of the most powerful witches alive, whether it naturally occurring or hard-earned. I used to be a woman who planned everything and then had three backup plans, and I shall have to learn to be that woman again. It is what you deserve, I deserve, what the glorious cause deserves," she said, then glanced towards a large empty spot in the circle. "Above all, however, it is what those who made the ultimate sacrifices in the name of purity deserve, such as the Lestranges or Dolohov. We will not fail them, will we?"
There was a murmur of agreement that they would not. As her rage seemed to diminish, so did their fear-but never completely. Harry doubted anyone forgot what Lady Voldemort's wand could do to them.
"And for those missing who are too cowardly to face us," she continued, "we will get them back threefold. And, not lastly, one of our most loyal aided me this year at Hogwarts to bring us a very honored guest for our renewal. I believe most of you have heard of Harry Potter?"
She pointed her wand and the fire under the cauldron rose, licking high around the edges of it, blinding Harry momentarily by the brightness. Shocked exclamations and rapid whispering rose up immediately as she walked over to where he was tied up. At her approach the pain in his scar flared up again.
"Yes, he is here, I made a grave error that fateful All Hallow's Eve. I forgot that there is magic far older than even wands that moves through our veins, popping up at the most unexpected moments. My confidence in my skills got the best of me. Lily Potter, at her death, sacrificed her life for her son. The love in that protected him—so you can lay your fears to rest about any secret powers of this boy, and your wonders of if he would be a Dark Lord to take my place at the helm of our cause. He was merely very lucky to have a loving mother…and it was a pity that I forgot the power of sacrificial magic. And until tonight, the love in her sacrifice protected him from me. I was unable to even touch him. However," she said, a smile coming to her face, her shadow hair seeming to writhe in pleasure, "with the help of Wormtail, a spell I made, and the blood of the enemy that felled me before, I could create a body to house the shade I had once been. Not ideal, but this body has a small perk that I find worthwhile…"
Harry had no time to realize what she was doing before she put two fingers to his forehead over his scar. He screamed, his vision white from pain, and he almost didn't hear her laughter.
"Symbolism is how we create hope and it is why ritual and tradition is so powerful! And that is why tonight we celebrate our renewal with the reverse of what occurred that fateful night—a sacrifice at the alter of magic to free us from the tyranny of Muggles and blood traitors! Come, come forward," she said. "Let it be that when our history is written as the victors that no one can claim that the execution of Harry Potter went unwitnessed!"
There were cheers raised into the sky, and with a delighted grin at their triumphant cries she raised her wand to the sky. Harry looked up at the green skull floating in the sky and realized, with a numb sort of stillness in his chest, that he was going to die. As the Death Eaters crowded around him, exuberant about his death, his thoughts turned to those he was leaving behind. He felt bad that he wouldn't get to live with Sirius as he'd wanted to do, see Hogwarts again, fly a broom, play anymore Quidditch, or any of the small things that he'd come to love about his life in the wizarding world...
But it was thinking of Ron and Tom that made his heart sink. He felt guilty for leaving them behind. He hoped that they knew that he loved them and would watch over them in whatever was on the other side.
"Hermione Granger," said Harry, meeting her eyes as her wand came down to point at his chest. "You will never know love and friendship like I have. I hated you before but knowing that makes me just pity you in the end."
She seemed shocked as their eyes met briefly, Harry holding onto it even despite the burning pain of looking at her. For just a moment, Harry thought maybe she looked slight grief-striken, but it so quickly became fury that he decided maybe it hadn't even been on her face at all. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
And there was the bright green light of his dreams and he opened his eyes to sitting in a white, empty King's Cross station...
Until he heard his name, as if from far away, and in following it. He ended up opening his eyes to find himself in the graveyard still, on the ground in front of Herman Granger's tombstone. Professor Dumbledore holding a lit wand over him, tears trickling down his face. When he realized that Harry was alive and looking at him, he choked, "Oh thank Merlin, I was afraid you were dead."
Harry couldn't have been more surprised and yet moved when his old professor scooped him up in a hug.
"Professor, what happened? She sent the Killing Curse at me but then I was in King's Cross and—"
"Harry, my appearance made them scatter but I am afraid they may come back to see if they can fetch your body. She cannot know that you are still alive, so we need to move quickly. I promise, once I have everything settled, we can talk."
"What do you mean she can't know?" he asked.
"We will be faking your death, Harry, and preparing you to face her again—for when you're older. I have much to tell you," said Professor Dumbledore, holding his arm with one hand while still holding his lit wand with the other. Before Harry could say anything more, however, they apparated.
Finally, as he finished telling the bits and pieces of that evening that he was able to share that night, he looked up at them and asked, "Where is Professor Dumbledore?"
"He's at the school taking care of the aftermath," said Remus. "He faked a body for you and went to take Diggory back to his family."
Harry felt his stomach drop. "Cedric asked me to get his body back to his family. I'm glad Dumbledore is doing it for me."
Harry sat down on the old, dusty couch in this rotten old manor. However, at that moment he didn't care where he was as long as he wasn't in that graveyard again, though he did wish for one more thing. Sirius and Remus were wonderful and he was so glad to be alone, but remembering what he'd thought were his last moments made him desperately miss his best friends. They'd been with him through everything and they'd figure out how to handle this all together. "Ron and Tom are going be so upset before they find out that I didn't die after all. When can they come to see me, since I'm staying here?"
Sirius ran a hand through his hair and Remus sighed before they glanced at each other, not saying anything to Harry.
"Like, I know they may not be able to during the school year, but maybe during the summer?" he asked.
Remus was the first to speak. "Harry, they can't know. Only the three of us and Dumbledore know you're alive at all, and the less people that know the safer you'll be."
"What!?" he demanded, jumping up from his seat. "They're my best friends! There's no way that I can just sit here while my best mates think I was murdered!"
And a familiar voice said from the hallway, "There was already a spy at Hogwarts, Harry, and I'm afraid that there will be only more now that the Dark Lady is revived. We cannot risk them mentioning you being alive potentially for the wrong ears to hear it."
Harry spun around to face Dumbledore. "Professor, they've been with me through everything! I can't just abandon them."
Dumbledore came over to Harry and put his hands on his shoulders. "You aren't abandoning them, Harry. You will be doing the best thing for yourself and them by staying safe. You'll be spending your time here training and preparing for fighting Voldemort—which with her gone will mean that Ron, from a family of known blood traitors and Tom, a brilliant Muggleborn, will be safe from her tyranny."
However, even as Harry looked mutinously furious, Sirius jumped immediately into anger. "Train him? He's a fourteen-year-old boy!"
"I've been facing her since I was eleven. That's not the problem! The problem is that my friends, who have been facing her with me, won't know I'm even alive," said Harry.
Dumbledore glanced between them for a couple of seconds, and then sighed. "Harry, Sirius, please understand. Someone set up the cup to take Harry to Voldemort tonight. If it had not been a chance of luck thirteen years ago then Harry would be dead. There...there is a prophecy concerning Harry. I am sure of it now that it concerns him. He must be ready to face her when the time comes."
"Prophecy?" asked Lupin.
Professor Dumbledore took a deep breath and then recited "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lady approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lady will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lady knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lady will be born as the seventh month dies."
There was silence in the room once Dumbledore finished, everyone stunned into silence. It was Harry who recovered first.
"I'll train. I don't mind that, but Ron and Tom-"
"They are much safer where they are now, thinking you are dead," said Dumbledore.
That shut Harry up, though reluctantly. He wanted to protect his friends and never wanted them to be in danger. But they had always been loyal to them and he could trust them through and with anything. It felt like a betrayal to lie to them. And, also, a big part of him wondered if he even could do this without the support of his friends. He felt very alone without them there.
"Absolutely not, prophecy or no," said Sirius.
"Sirius," said Lupin quietly. "Even if Harry never faces her, it will be safer for him if he learns to defend himself. It is inevitable that he will go out sometime-and then he will be facing her."
Dumbledore nodded. "This is true. However, I will say this-Harry is the best hope we have in defeating her. And now we have a chance to prepare without her being aware."
"Professor," said Harry, "how was it that I survived? She casted the Killing Curse and I know it hit. I died-I was at King's Cross and saw everyone I knew who had passed away. What kept me alive? How did I live again?"
"Harry, my boy...that night that she tried to kill you, your mother sacrificed herself to save you. Before that night, when Hermione Granger was a teenager, she began making dark objects called horcruxes. It involved committing murder to split her soul and then placing them in objects in order to me immortal. However, she made several and her soul was most likely unstable. That night, two things occured: your mother sacrificed herself, which is necessary in creating a horcrux. The second was that she turned her wand on you and tried to kill you. The spell that backfired split her further, and she made another unintentional horcrux: you. You did die, Harry, but the part of her soul that lived within you was what died."
"Oh Merlin," said Sirius, his voice shaky. "A piece of her soul was in Harry?"
"It is the only logical explanation. We have located one horcrux already, albiet unintentionally-the diary she left that possessed Mr. Weasley. Harry's parseltongue abilities, which Miss Granger inherited through her familial line, most likely came from her. Then, lastly, tonight, which proved to me beyond a doubt that this was the case."
His face, already serious, became much more grim. "However, it also means that Harry has lost two very powerful defenses against her. First, her taking Harry's blood means the protections left by his mother are gone. Secondly, the warnings you got from your scar will no longer occur."
Harry, honestly, was very relieved about that. Well, less about the loss of his mother's protection-it was like he'd lost another little bit of her-but the connection that made his scar hurt when she was nearby was a big relief to lose. He'd actually be able to think and concentrate if she were nearby, maybe, though it also was a lost defense.
"Harry," said Dumbledore. "I am asking a favor of you. I ask that you stay here and train to prepare for the inevitable war that is coming. You are in more danger than anyone, and your presence would put Mr. Weasley and Mr. Riddle in more danger."
Harry reluctantly nodded. "Will you watch over them and make sure they're safe?"
There was a pause and a slight dimming of the twinkling in his eyes that Harry didn't understand before he said. "I will be keeping a close eye on Mr. Weasley and Mr. Riddle."
It would have to be enough.