Harry Potter and the Spirit of Revenge
Chapter Two: The Boy-Who-Came-Back

Please Read and Review. I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I'm I doing wrong (to correct it).

Voldemort enjoyed the attention of his sycophants. They were paying him his due as the most powerful wizard in history, it was right and proper to see them grovel at his feet.

"And soon, the whole world will be ours! We shall remake it into what it always should have been!"

A lone pair of hands clapped. A slow clapping, conveying both mockery and sarcasm. "Nice speech. How long have you been rehearsing it, Tommy-boy?"

"What?" Voldemort turned around, ready to blast the impudent intruder.

"It was a simple question. I don't expect them to know, but you should; it's your speech, after all." The speaker was sitting on a tombstone, the perfect image of insolence and disrespect.

Every Death Eater gasped. Potter was alive? He got an Avada Kedravra right to the chest! There was no way he could have survived that! Not again!

Harry waved a hand, and his wand flew back to his fingers. "Now, where were we? Oh, yes. Killing each other!"

Voldemort cast another Killing curse at Harry. The boy caught it with his own wand. The clothes on his body changed gradually, while he moved his wand lazily, playing with the deadly spell as if it was nothing more than a simple toy. His champion clothes simmered, turning into an old-fashioned robe with a hood covering his head. A tunic, white as a funereal shroud, could be seen under it. While from under the robes, a pair of green gloves flowed like water to cover his hands, even flowing around his raised wand. Dark green shoes replaced his old boots. At the same time Harry's face paled quickly, becoming as white as a bloodless corpse.

Somehow, the Death Eaters found themselves transfixed by the changes in the boy, no one dared to breathe, much less move while the deadly spell twirled around Harry Potter's wand.

Although the green light of the spell illuminated him, a deep shadow concealed the upper part of his face, his eyes glowing white, with two green dots in the centre. "Hey, Lucius! Catch!" A minute movement, and the trapped spell flew faster than ever at Lucius Malfoy. Propelled by the force of his fear, the Death Eater ran away, weaving between the tombstones, dodging the spell, while the green ball of light chased lazily after him, zigzagging impossibly.

Right when the elder Malfoy passed between Crabbe and Goyle, his own bookends, the spell split in two, hitting his two co-conspirators. They fell to the ground with barely a surprised gasp, their open eyes looking blindly at the night sky. His surprise was enough to make Lucius stumble. The proud pureblood fell to the ground, and desperately turned his head back, looking at the pitiless eyes of Harry Potter. Idly, he finally realized they were the same green colour of an Avada Kedavra, yet, not as merciful.

'What?'Harry sneered, his voice now had an unearthly sound, as cold and hollow as an open grave,"Did you think I would go easy on you, Malfoy? No, I have better plans for you." At a wave of his wand, Malfoy fell back to the ground, screaming behind his silver mask. A white light surrounded him, and his body began to change. It was like an animagus transformation, but entirely unwilling.

The other Death Eaters looked powerless at their companion, as white feathers ripped through his skin, his neck elongated agonically, amongst the sickly cracking of bones and flesh. Soon, instead of the proud patriarch of Malfoy House, a white peacock trembled in pain, chirping pathetically. Its white feathers stained with mud and dry leaves.

"He looks so much better now, don't you think, guys?"Harry laughed.

Finally, it was Voldemort who reacted, "Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand flew from his hand to Voldemort's.

"Nicely done! And I thought you couldn't do other spells, Tommy-boy!"

As soon as it was in his grasp, Voldemort snapped the wand in two, throwing the pieces to the ground. "Prepare to die, Potter!" he hissed.

"Aw, that was a good wand."Harry shrugged, dismissing the loss of his wand as if it didn't matter to him at all."Done that already. Got a new part-time job on the side. But I seriously doubt you'll like it. In any case, it is time for me to get some experience under my belt, you know, to impress the boss."

Harry gestured with his right hand and a new wand manifested in his grasp, an exact copy of the one Voldemort had just broken; a gesture later, the dirt and stone under Voldemort followed his movements, forming a giant fist. Voldemort felt a crushing force enveloping him. With a pained gasp, he apparated away, crashing painfully against a force dome. He stumbled back, barely keeping himself standing. The Dark Lord turned around, looking at Harry with murder in his red eyes.

"Ah, ah, ah. I hope you won't mind if I take a page out of your playbook, Tommy!"Harry laughed again, mockingly wagging a finger."This is actually a good trick. Stop your enemies from leaving the slaughter before time!"Harry walked leisurely towards Voldemort. Somehow, he seemed to grow with each step. "And it seems my enemies have been very obliging. I mean, I won't even have to look for them!"More stone hands surged from the dirt, each one lunging to trap a Death Eater in their stony grasp. However, the hands were slow, and only one or two men were caught.

"What are you waiting for, you idiots?! Kill him!" Voldemort roared. "He can't survive all of us!"

Galvanized by their Master's anger, all the Death Eaters still free made liberal use of their favourite spell.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" they screamed at once. Multiple green spells crossed the cold air of the cemetery.

The first one stroke Harry in the left shoulder. The rest impacted the chest or the arms. One even hit Harry in the face. For a moment, he stood there, arms hanging loosely at his side, eyes dull and the mouth hanging open. Silently, he fell to the ground; his eyes wide open to the night sky. Gradually, his appearance returned to normal. The stone fists crumbled to dirt and small rocks, releasing their prey.

The group closed warily on the body of the young boy, wands pointing at him, ready to unleash a new assault on him, should he move even a finger.

"What happened?" Yaxley asked. "Since when is Potter actually powerful?"

Macnair shook his head. "I don't know. But that was strange. He was burning magic as if there was no tomorrow."

"And there wasn't! For him!" another Death Eater, Nott, chuckled morbidly, soon the cemetery's silence was broken by a series of laughs, celebrating the joke. Still, no one dared to take their wands back from their position. Not without the Dark Lord clear permission.

Voldemort pushed roughly his way in the circle around Potter's corpse. The laughter stopped immediately, except for one.

It was way colder than the others.

The corpse began to dissolve in green smoke. Soon there was nothing but a few wisps of smoke, barely visible.

The laughter continued.

The Death Eaters and their Master formed a circle around the place the corpse had been. Voldemort hissed a command in parseltongue. 'Nagini! To me!'

'On my way, Master!' The giant snake answered, from somewhere behind a crypt.

'I don't think so!' Harry Potter's voice hissed too. And a giant-green gloved hand descended from above, picking up Nagini as if it wasn't bigger than a worm. The men raised their eyes, to find an absolutely chilling vision.

Harry Potter, again in his green robe and white tunic, stood impossibly tall over them. He must have been at least 300 feet tall, maybe even more.

Nagini turned and twisted, trying to bite the giant hand that held her. Finally, she found her target, sinking her fangs in the flesh. Harry smiled. "Can you believe it? It tickles!" Harry turned his hand around, and a thick stream of poison fell down from above, right onto the masked face of a Death Eater.

The man screamed as soon as the poison hit his face. Desperately, he tore away his partially corroded silver mask, blackened by the venom, revealing the melting flesh around his eyes. The Death Eater nails dug deeply into his skin, desperately trying to relieve himself from the burning pain, but only succeeding into ripping away chunks of melted flesh.

"Avery!" Macnair screamed. Just as the other man ripped his own eyes with almost fleshless fingers, screaming until his last breath. As Avery's corpse fell to the ground, Macnair turned to the giant Potter, who was steadily being attacked with all kind of dark curses. He raised his wand, and shot a stream of dark spells at the giant.

The Spectre showed absolutely no effect from any of the curses. The apparition was too busy examining Nagini and hissing at the giant snake. Voldemort's brow furrowed more and more with each hiss from the Spectre's lips.

"Enough! I'm trying to have a serious talk here!" He said, stomping a foot on the ground, knocking everybody down with a shockwave so powerful it knocked down several tombstones and almost demolished a crumbling mausoleum. "Wait for your turn. I'll get down to you sooner or later."

While the Death Eaters stood back up, the new Spectre tilted his head in concentration. To Voldemort's horror, two gloved fingers pinched Nagini's head, somehow penetrating flesh and bones without harming the snake. The hand pulled away, dragging a twisting cloud of black gunk and smoke. He turned his cold eyes towards Voldemort, then back to the twisting black smoke he held. "So. That's how you did it," the Spectre growled. "Your pet here was so sure you would return from death I just had to see for myself what she was talking about. And guess what? She's not a pet anymore. Much less yours."

Nagini curled around the Spectre's wrist, and hissed down at the Death Eaters. The Avenging Ghost smiled coldly at them. "I have better things to do than wasting time with you."

He raised his left hand to the heavens, fingers open wide. "I recall all the broken fragments of your soul, Tom Marvolo Riddle, worthless son of a Muggle and an inbred Squib! Deceiver of a world! Liar, I call you! Murderer, I name you! Come here, soul pieces defiling priceless treasures! Gather here and come to your doom!"

From the Spectre's fingers, four streams of pale green light surged shooting towards the horizon.

"Liar! You dare insult the Dark Lord! You will pay for this, Potter!" Macnair, enraged beyond belief to hide his fear, manifested his favourite axe, a magical copy, sharper and deadlier than the original, and charged against the giant before anybody reacted.

"Sure I will." The Spectre looked down, and flicked his fingers towards Macnair, as the man raised his axe. A coppery object shot from his hand, hitting Macnair's head, and embedding itself painfully into his forehead. Soon, a second object followed the first, embedding into the right temple; and a third, to the left temple. There was no fourth. "Keep the change." The Spectre added, coldly.

The Death Eater closer to Macnair recognized the objects. Three knuts.

The copper coins began to push in, crushing Macnair's head. The executioner dropped the axe, and tried to pry the coins from his head. To no avail. A few moments later, the coins met each other; inside Macnair's brain, killing him instantly.

In the meanwhile, the other Death Eaters kept their barrage of spells.

Soon, a small ball of purplish light arrived, crossing the unseen barrier that kept the enemies from fleeing. "Ah, this one was close, Tommy-boy! The others will arrive soon."

A cold sheen of sweat covered Voldemort's brow. He recognized the ball of light. He had performed the Horcrux ritual not one, but several times, and knew perfectly the appearance of a fragment of his own soul. "Kill him! Kill him now!" he screamed, foaming at the mouth. And renewed the attack. Still with no apparent effect.

Another ball of light arrived, followed by a third and a fourth. The Spectre closed his hand around the balls of light. "Only one more, Tommy! Only one missing." He said, and crushed the fragments in his fist. "But before destroying it, I want to get rid of interlopers.

He gestured with his right hand. "I'd prefer to give you the time and attention you deserve, guys, but I'm in somewhat of a hurry." All the Death Eaters present felt an irresistible pull at their left arms, forcing them to present them for inspection, the Dark Mark clearly visible in each of them. "No Imperius defense for you this time, murderers! You thought this brand gave you permission to kill, maim, rape, and terrorize people? Well, I say that today, that belief will come back and bite you!"

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts

The scene of the Third Task was a complete chaos. No one knew what had happened. According to the spells cast by Dumbledore, the Tri-Wizard Cup had been already claimed, but instead of appearing at the judges' table, the winner, whoever it was, had not arrived.

Eventually, the maze had been cleared, revealing two of the champions, both unconscious. They were taken to Madame Pomphrey to be examined.

Dumbledore was practically being assaulted by the other two Headmasters, Madame Maxine demanded, with her heavily accented English, to know what had happened to her student, why she laid unconscious in the middle of the maze, while Karkaroff threw wild accusations against both Hogwarts champions.

Suddenly, the Durmstrang headmaster grabbed his arm and screamed in agony, followed a moment later by the Potions teacher, Severus Snape; and surprisingly, the DADA teacher, Alastor Moody.

No one knew it at that moment, but in Azkaban, every Death Eater imprisoned inside was screaming their lungs out. Come the morning, the High Security cells of Azkaban would contain cold corpses instead of prisoners.

Little Hangleton Cemetery

The animated snake in the Dark Marks came to life, somehow raising itself from the flesh, and sinking its fangs into their bearer, corrosive venom flowed into their veins, eating them from the inside.

"Not you, Wormtail. You get to live for a little while more."

The rat animagus was dragged from behind a tombstone, pulled by his left arm. He tried to resist. Completely in vain. The silver hand he had been so proud a moment before had turned into fine silvery chains. By reflex, Peter Pettigrew tried to change into his Animagus form, hoping to escape as a rat, but it was impossible. The change was stopped a moment before taking hold of his body, almost knocking him out with a wave of pain.

All around them, Death Eaters screamed and trashed on the ground, their flesh burning and melting, eaten by the venom their own Dark Marks injected in their veins. The Spectre smiled coldly at the sight.

"Now," he whispered, "it all comes to an end, Riddle. Death calls for you and her call will not go unanswered this time. Your foul anchors are no more. Now, face your final fate. And die for the very last time."

A movement of his hand, and Voldemort rose in the air, like a puppet pulled up by the strings. He hovered in front of the Spectre's face, who took him in his left hand, like a toy.

And squeezed. "All that was Tom Marvolo Riddle dies tonight."

As the Spectre closed his fist around him, Voldemort screamed, "No! You cannot kill me! I am the greatest wizard who ever lived! I am Lord Voldemort! Lord Voldemort!"

"What you are, 'mylord'," the word was full of mockery, "is nothing but a bad memory. A fraud. Mere ashes in the wind. In the end, you are nothing. Tom Marvolo Riddle, son of a Muggle and a Squib, won't trouble anybody again. So swears the Spectre."

The Spectre blew, and the feared Lord Voldemort, master of the Death Eaters, was carried in the wind, as nothing more than specks of dust. For long minutes, a last scream echoed in the wind.

Finally, silence returned to the Cemetery of Little Hangleton.