Chapter 2

Harry

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

I look up and down the table, taking in the scene around me. I glance down at my chest, examine each to my hands. I'm already in my outfit for the task. I step away from the table, turning in a circle and confirming I am in fact in the Great Hall.

The third task.

The night Riddle regains his body and his power.

Mortimer must have a sick sense of humor, to send them back right before a near death experience. Maybe he wants to get fired after all.

Cheering erupts from the Gryffindor table, but it's the sound of Hermione's voice calling my name that grabs my attention. Her eyes are wide and panicked, as she takes in the scene before her.

Without hesitating I step onto the bench, then onto the tabletop. I leap onto Hermione's side, landing on my feet next to her. I pull her hard into my arms, breathing in her familiar scent. My hands roam over her body, checking her for wounds. It registers somewhere in the back of my mind as her hands cup my face then trail over my chest that she must be doing the same thing.

We died, and now we're back, and I'm about to watch Voldemort regain his body.

Fuck.

"This is—this is— "

Her voice is high and panicky, and it's classic Hermione before a big test.

"I know," I say still grappling with the face that I watched Hermione have her throat slit what felt like less than an hour ago. Now we're back in fourth year. "I'll take care of it," I promise her.

Hermione just nods her head, like a toy stuck in a wind-up position.

Think! What do you need to survive this?

"Give me your wand!" I tell her, already pulling the wand holder from my right wrist and latching it to my left.

She stares at me like I've just spoken Parseltongue.

"Give me your wand. Trust me!"

She hands it over without a second thought, and I shove it onto my wrist, pocketing my own wand.

"It's too late to stop it now," I explain. "But this time I'm prepared for it."

Hermione grabs me by the front of my shirt. Time is ticking down. I glance around the Great Hall and see that the other contestants have already left the room.

"Don't let Cedric touch the cup," Hermione whispers harshly against my face. "Try to bring Wormtail back. Take as many of them out as you can. Don't risk yourself any more than you must. Get back as quickly as possible. Kill him if you get the opportunity. We'll take care of everything else after."

My heart is thudding in my chest so hard it's making me nauseous. Adrenaline courses through my bloodstream, nerves for what he knows is to come.

I nod in quick agreement, then without thinking, pull her back into my arms and kiss her. The roar around the table, already loud enough to rival a small army, rises to near apocalyptic levels as Hermione holds me to her and digs her fingers into my hair.

Oh Merlin.

If I'm going to die, again, this is the way to do it.

Her tongue thrusts into my mouth, and I swear my knees buckle. One of us moans, and I can't tell who.

A surge of magic fires through my limbs, blazing in my core. My fingers tingle, my lips burn. Even though my eyes are closed, I swear I see a white blinding light flashing beyond my sealed lids.

If this is what kissing Hermione feels like, I'm never going to be the same again.

That's if I live through tonight.

I gasp for air and place my lips against hers again; once, twice.

Then as quick as that it's over, and I run towards the exit, putting Hermione and Mortimer and anything else but the upcoming confrontation out of my mind.

I hit the stone steps and skip the last three, skidding in the grass to catch up to the others.

"All right there, Potter?" Cedric asks, a knowing smile on his face.

"Yeah," I pant, grinning ear to ear, trying to slow my breathing down.

Well, already something is going to change, because I have no intention of letting Cedric or any of the others get near that cup tonight. Which means I'll win outright, even if winning means I lose in the long term.

Voldemort regaining his form isn't good for anyone.

Krum scowls at me, and I realize he must have seen me pulling Hermione into a hug. Thank goodness they'd left before I lost my mind and kissed her. Otherwise, I'd probably have to duel Krum before Voldemort could have his way with me.

What in Merlin's name was I thinking?

I wasn't. That's the problem.

Fucking Mortimer got into my head.

Bagman pulls me from my thoughts.

"Feeling alright, Harry?" Bagman asks as we go down the stone steps and into the grounds. "Confident?"

"Yup," I say, only giving Bagman the slightest attention.

Another change. Bagman won't have to go on the run, as he'll win his bet with the Goblins.

If he bothers to pay it.

I add it to my list.

I feel dizzy when we walk down to the quidditch pitch and see the maze built for the task. Of all the situations to drop them in, Mortimer couldn't have picked a worse one. Mortimer thinks I'm the moron? The Undertaker could at least have put them a few weeks earlier so he and Hermione could work out a plan for tonight. Hell, even yesterday would have been better than five minutes before the task starts.

Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick come walking into the stadium, and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from hexing Moody on the spot. It wouldn't do me any good, and then I'd have to explain how I knew that Moody was an imposter, and I don't know how to handle that yet.

What good is knowing what's going to happen if you can't do anything about it?

Being old enough to wank doesn't seem like nearly a good enough reason for being dropped into this mess.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," says Professor McGonagall to the champions. "If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

The champions nod.

"Off you go, then!" says Bagman brightly to the four patrollers.

"Good Luck, Harry," Hagrid says, then the four teachers head off in different directions. I ignore the thundering sound of footsteps as the stands fill and students call out, instead concentrating on what I have to do tonight. There's a giant spider, the blast-ended skrewt, the sphinx. Fleur gets hurt, but there's nothing I can do about that. Krum either.

I have to get to the cup before Cedric.

Cedric stretches, bending over to touch his toes, and I grin.

That won't be a problem this time. I could take Cedric with one of my hands tied behind my back.

I zone back in when I hear my name from Bagman's magically enhanced voice.

"So…on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" says Bagman. "Three — two — one —"

At the sound of the whistle, I take off.

"Good luck," I throw over my shoulder, already putting distance between me and the other Hogwarts champion. I wink at him, and Cedric stumbles in surprise.

Cedric doesn't realize how lucky he is that I'm going to leave him in the dust this time. Lighting my wand with a silent Lumos, I sprint to the left of the split up ahead.

Bugger.

My legs give out when I collide roughly with the packed soil of the graveyard. I got through the maze in about half the time I did last time if I had to guess. I jerk my head around, looking for trouble.

Maybe Wormtail isn't ready for me yet. I shake my head to clear it of the cobwebs.

I don't remember the Portkey being so rough last time. Or, maybe now that I'm more used to portray travel, I can tell how poorly made the cup was. Must take some skill to make the landing smooth.

I climb to my feet and fix a sticking charm to my glasses.

Here we go again.

Where's some Felix Felicis when you need it?

The smell of the graveyard hits me viscerally, the damp dirt tickling my nose. The air itself seems to vibrate, as if aware of what's to come and bracing for the impact.

I could run, and end this now. Activate the Portkey and pray that Dumbledore and Fudge take me seriously. Well, that Fudge does. I already know that Dumbledore will listen. Hell, Dumbledore is probably waiting for this very thing to happen. Using me as the sacrificial lamb led to the slaughter. Rage burns inside my gut, but that's neither here nor there now.

I push the thought to the back of my mind to worry about after I survive.

I could flee and hope they get Aurors here quick enough to capture Riddle and Wormtail before they slither off again.

Or I could destroy the form Riddle has now. I could overtake Wormtail with little effort. Even at seventeen, I'm twice the Wizard that he is. I could restrain Wormtail then destroy the shell of Voldemort.

But as soon as I think of it, I discard it as a bad job. That won't work either, because Riddle still has the Horcruxes to tether his soul to the here and now.

There's no hope for it. I've just gotta let it play out and aim for the best. At least I know what to expect this time. Once Riddle is back in his body, we have a good idea of what he does and where he goes for the next few years. If I don't go through with the spell tonight, who knows the changes it'll make to the timeline.

Hermione and I could have come back just to make all our memories worthless an hour after arriving. Hermione would kill me for giving up an advantage like that.

This way, at least we'll know where Riddle is once we've destroyed all the Horcruxes.

I whip my head in the direction Wormtail will shortly appear as the sounds of slithering penetrate my hearing.

Nagini!

The Snake!

My mind rushes forward, like when I see the snitch fluttering on the opposite side of the stadium. If I play this right, I might be able to get rid of Riddle's familiar and his lapdog without ever letting Riddle know that the Horcrux hunt has begun. Before I waste any more time, I levitate the Portkey into a better position to grab when I'm ready to leave and situate myself on the ground. I loosen my limbs and brace myself for the pain that's sure to come.

Only, it doesn't.

I feel their presence, but it doesn't steal my breath away and turn me blind like it has in the past.

I hear the scuttling dragging sound of Wormtail carrying his burden, but the agony of Riddle's close proximity never happens.

Of course!

The Horcrux.

Mortimer took it out.

Another hundred questions without easy answers fly through my mind, but again, I lock them away to worry about another time.

There'll be time enough afterwards, with Hermione and maybe a sandwich, to puzzle out my being a Horcrux and the complications that may arise now that I'm not anymore.

Only putting up enough of a fight to make it look convincing, I allow myself to be yanked to my feet and my wand violently ripped from my hand.

I swallow back my grin.

Who's the moron now?

Hermione's wand wedged tight into its holder on my non-wand arm is a warm and familiar comfort in a graveyard cold with death.

As the conjured rope snakes around my body, I decide to get a few pokes in before Wormtail gags me.

"Stop this foolishness now, Wormtail. You'll only come to regret it. Run, and I won't tell anyone I saw you tonight. You know what kind of Master Riddle is. You know he'll only kill you in the end."

Wormtail freezes momentarily, and a shiver of terror runs down his spine. Then the roughened black material is shoved into my mouth, wedged tight between my teeth.

The snake slithers through the grass, keeping her master's slave in line.

My eyes flicker over the graveyard, cataloguing what's the same, and what has already changed from Cedric not being here this time. That's the only advantage I've got going for me this go round. I've played with time travel before. The smallest details can make the biggest differences.

Honestly, just standing here is kind of boring when you already know what's coming next. I'm not sure if it's the fact that I'm three years older than the last time? It didn't seem like that big of a difference thirty minutes ago. Or maybe it's that in those three years I've dealt with more life and death experiences than most Wizards deal in a lifetime. In several lifetimes. Merlin, if everything that's happened today isn't just some weird concussion dream, I've died several times in my life already.

Whatever the reason, instead of being scared out of my mind, I'm rather bored.

There's no shock and awe factor when you know what's going to happen. Even the maze was kinda lame. I don't think that says very good things about me that I'm craving more action. Maybe it's the stress of the day. I have a little extra energy to burn off or something. But if I could take on some of the death eaters without having to deal with Riddle, it could be a fun way to kill off the excess adrenaline still zinging through my veins.

Or maybe I've lost the plot.

Either way, I have stuff to do, and this is eating up time.

If Riddle is going to inconvenience me by coming back to his body, at least he could have the decency to hurry the fuck up and get it over with.

I have a war to plan and all that.

The bundle that contains Riddle's feeble form is stirring restlessly. Good to know I'm not the only one impatient to get this show on the road.

Wormtail just pisses everyone off, I guess.

Wormtail appears again, pushing along the cauldron, splashes of pre-made potion littering the ground in his wake. Wormtail's lucky Riddle can't see how sloppy he's being with the regeneration syrup. I'm sure he'd would lose another hand because of it.

Riddle's voice grates over my ears like nails on a chalkboard, as he urges his charge to hurry up.

Wormtail's look of revulsion as he handles the creature Riddle is more severe than the last time. Hopefully I got into Wormtail's head, and he's imaging his death at the hands of his Master. I know it won't stop him, but at least it can make him suffer some.

The cauldron starts to heat, sending off sparks in every direction.

"Hurry!"

Merlin. I honestly don't understand why Wormtail doesn't simply drown Riddle and be done with it.

"It is ready, Master."

I barely contain my eye roll as Riddle hisses at his slave.

He doesn't even have a body. Why is Wormtail so afraid of him?

Wormtail pulls his master from the bundle of robes, and I turn my face away at the first sight of Riddle's deformed body. It was easy to forget how decrepit snake baby Riddle was after he climbs re-born from the cauldron, but he really is disgusting in this form.

Wormtail starts the ritual, and I flick my wrist to let Hermione's wand fill my left palm.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The surface of the grave at my feet cracks and I watch dispassionately as a fine trickle of dust rises into the air at Wormtail's command and falls softly into the cauldron. Sparks fly in every direction and the potion changes color to a vivid poisonous looking blue.

Here comes the gross part.

The knife appears in his hand, pulled from an inside pocket of his robes. He's shaking and whimpering and when he speaks his voice breaks into a sob.

I turn my face away; I don't need to watch this.

"Flesh— of the servant— w-willingly given—you will—revive—your master."

Wormtail's screams rent the air as the thud of Wormtail's hand hitting the packed dirt is followed by the splash of the severed limb being tossed into the potion. Even with my eyes closed and my head turned I can see the potion burn red.

It's almost time.

I open my eyes and stare at Wormtail, refusing to look away. Wormtail is shaking from pain and blood loss. And fear. He flinches away from my glare, unable to meet my eye.

"B-blood of the enemy…forcibly taken…you will…resurrect your foe."

The burn of the dagger pierces my flesh, and I cringe. Not at the pain, but at the realization that it's the same blade Wormtail used to cut off his arm. I'm going to ask for a blood cleansing potion when Madam Pomfrey finally gets her hands on me tonight.

Wormtail fumbles the vial as he holds it up to the seeping wound in my arm, barely able to collect enough blood for the potion.

My pulse skyrockets.

This is it.

As soon as Wormtail's back is turned, I drop the wand into my fingers and casts a silent finite ropes fall away from my body, as Wormtail pours the blood into the cauldron. The liquid within instantly turns a brilliant, blinding light.

"Stupify!" I shout, hitting Wormtail in the back as he collapses to the ground to tend to his wound. He lands in a heap on his side. I'm already running by the time Wormtail hits the ground.

I throw my hand out to the side, and my wand flies from Wormtail's prone body into my open palm.

Please, please let this work!

"I need the sword!" I scream, and in a flash of fire, Fawkes appears above me, dropping the hilt into my waiting grasp. Nagini rears back to strike, as I do the same. We meet in the middle, sword versus snake, and Nagini's head tumbles through the air as the Sword of Gryffindor slices through scale and muscle and bone. A wail of fury like an echo from hell rips the air in two, and I can't tell if it's the Horcrux or it's master, screaming their anger to the heavens. I don't slow my pace as I pivot with the speed of a seeker to run towards the Cup.

"Accio Wormtail," I shout as the form of Riddle rises from the cauldron. I can feel his power building, as Wormtail's stupefied form rushes for me.

Riddle roars in rage as his plans for my impending humiliation and death disintegrate around him.

The unconscious form of Wormtail collides with me, the weight of it knocking me from my feet.

It's probably what saves my life.

With an arm around Wormtail's chest and a flick of my wrist, the cup hurdles in our direction. Holding my wand and the sword in one hand, I grab the portkey with the other. Riddles' cold hard voice screams his Avada, the green light soaring over our heads and bursting a headstone to pieces. My back slams into the ground, my 'omfpt' of pain lost to the night air.

With a yank behind my navel, I speed away from the graveyard. A bleeding Wormtail, a dead Nagini and an infuriated Voldemort as my prize.