Harry Potter and the Spirit of Revenge
Chapter Four: The Hero-Who-Died

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).

Little Hangleton Cemetery

"You know, I might have a better idea. After all that happened, your pal deserves to go as a hero. Don't you think?"

Hogwarts,
Hospital Wing

Right before Madame Pomfrey's astonished eyes, four of her almost dead patients shimmered and changed. The scarred face of Alastor Moody, Retired Auror and currently Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, became the face of a young man, whole and unscarred; but even in agony, it was a face full of malice and evil, right down to the bone. It took her a few moments to recognize him as Barty Crouch Jr.

The supposedly dead Barty Crouch Jr., in fact.

A quick look at the Slytherin students revealed three adult men, she didn't recognize them, but judging from their features, they were battle hardened Death Eaters.

"I need a Hogwarts elf, please?" she whispered. And a moment later, a young elf popped in.

"What can Jeckie do for Hoggywarts Healer?" the elf asked, with a respectful bow.

"Just a moment, Jeckie." Quickly, Madame Pomfrey added a powerful immobilization charm to each and every patient on the ward. It would be really bad if the patients, who to the last man were marked as Death Eaters, managed to get out at any point later.

Once she was sure nobody would get out of her vigilant eyes, she turned to face the Hogwarts elf, "Bring Madame Bones immediately, please; she will want to see this."

Obediently, Jeckie popped away.

Poppy Pomfrey returned to her work. She held no love for any Death Eater, but she refused to do a lazy job. If these men died, as they probably would, she wanted to be sure she had done all magically possible to deliver them to a cell in Azkaban. And for them to stay right there, their minds and whatever passed for their souls slowly rotting in their cells for as long as possible.

Madame Xanadu's Parlor;
New York City

An immortal woman examined the spread of her tarot cards. "Hmm… I think it's time for me to travel back to England once more. I hope this new Spectre will be more open to hear what I have to say. And that I will be able to help him."

Hogwarts,
Site of the Third Taks of the TriWizard Tournament (Quidditch Court)

Meanwhile, Dumbledore had his hands full, trying to control the crowd threatening to overrun him and the Hogwarts staff.

Somehow, Miss Hermione Granger managed to get to him, she had to scream to be heard by the old wizard. "Headmaster! Where are they? Where's Harry?"

"I don't know! I need a moment to examine the place, Miss Granger, but I can't get away now!"

Suddenly, a lone figure popped next to the judges table, holding the TriWizard Cup, the teen tried to walk, but after two hesitant steps, his knees buckled, and he fell to the floor; the cup fell from his loose fingers.

The frantic mob stopped on its track. Wizards and witches looked at the young man who could barely keep himself from collapsing completely by using all his will. He looked up, his eyes focused on Dumbledore.

His voice cracking, the boy begged, grabbing the Headmaster's robe with the strength of desperation. "Headmaster… Death Eaters… a blood ritual… Help… Help… The cup… portkey… help…"

A scream cut the silence. "Cedric!" Amos Diggory pushed his way through the now silent mass of people. He knelt next to his son, holding him up. The teen smiled weakly, "…Father…"

"What did he say? What did he say?" Cornelius Fudge demanded.

Amos glared at the Minister. "Shut up, Cornelius!" he turned to the Headmaster, "Dumbledore! I need help here!"

Madame Maxime shushed them all. "Shsht! Young Monsieur Diggory is zrying to speek."

Amelia Bones arrived then, followed by a couple of Aurors and a distressed Hogwarts elf. She looked at the pained face of Cedric, took out her wand, and cast several field diagnostic charms at him. "He's in a bad shape, I read signs of… it can't be! All three Unforgivables! Kingsley! Take him to Saint Mungo's right now!"

Cedric grabbed her wand arm, for a moment full of desperate energy, "No! You have to rescue Harry! He threw the Cup at me!The Cup! It's a Portkey!" his energy deserted him, his eyes closed slowly, and his muscles relaxed almost completely.

Amos looked at Madame Bones, "Do it, Amelia! I'll get my son to Mungo's!" She nodded, "Be careful, Amos. Take a moment to focus or you will splinch yourself or Cedric."

Amos Diggory nodded gravely, breathed deep few times, and disappeared from view, along with the body of his son.

Meanwhile, Amelia Bones quickly assembled a group of Aurors. She turned to Jeckie, "I'll check with Poppy as soon as we come back, tell her Mr. Potter will most probably need her help." Jeckie nodded twice, and popped away.

Gringotts,
Director's Office

Ragnok crumpled yet another sheet of parchment. After his third try, he had switched to using regular parchment. He would compose the letter for the Banshee's heir, before copying the text to the valuable sheets.

It was no easy task to inform an entity capable of razing a whole country to ashes and rock that they had a new account at their disposal. Consisting of a vault and quite a high number of irreplaceable relics dating from even before Atlantis sunk into the ocean. The vault even contained a relic brought from a land where the sun never set down. Wherever that could even be, Ragnok had no idea, nor inclination to find out.

The Banshee had been very clear when she opened her vault at Gringotts. Her instructions were that whoever wielded her power in Britain was to be notified of their new responsibilities.

In any case, with young Mister Potter change of living status, all his vaults and legacies would be immediately transferred to the Banshee's vault, to keep them from being claimed by the corrupt Ministry of Magic, should they manage to get their heads out from their arses for long enough to notice it.

It would not do to have an entity of such power angry with Gringotts.

Little Hangleton Cemetery

While Deadman set the scene at Hogwarts, Harry had been busy, remaking the Death Eater's corpses into a shocking display. After all the times he had been called a delusional attention seeker, he was to make sure he wouldn't be dismissed so easily this time.

Avery's corpse had been un-melted, and the Dark Mark on his forearm now had an animated snake pumping venom into his veins, just as all the others.

Lucius Malfoy lay unconscious on the ground. His new albino peacock body had not taken the stress well, fainting on a ghostly white puddle next to an old mausoleum. Let the DMLE puzzle over why there was a Malfoy white peacock in the middle of a muggle cemetery, during what seemed to be a ritual.

Nagini was safely hidden in a small dimensional pocket Harry created for her, she would be warm and comfortable. Later, when they had the time, they would have a long talk, preferably with somebody else. Harry was the sole owner of divine level power, but apart from confronting evil with it, he had no idea of what he could do.

Wormtail… well… the rat animagus had been knocked unconscious, his silver hand remade. Now he lay aside the upturned cauldron Voldemort's homuncular body had risen from. The snake in his Dark Mark bit his flesh, but wasn't pumping much venom. Just enough to keep him unconscious. Another thing for the Aurors to puzzle over. As long as they recognized the cowardly man for what he was, and what his continued existence meant for Sirius Black, Harry didn't care. For good measure, and taking advantage of the state Peter Pettigrew was in, Harry proceeded to modify his memory, wiping out the las few minutes, he left everything else intact, so the last Death Eater could be interrogated.

And probably sentenced to death for his multiple crimes, while freeing Sirius, of course. Harry smiled coldly, and kept on working. A duplicate of Voldemort's body lay now on the ground, face down, as if it had fallen as it tried to exit the cauldron, knocking it down in the process. Its red eyes looked blindly at a clump of grass leaves a few paces away. Its hands grabbed twin fistfuls of grass and dirt, as if the Dark Lord had died painfully just as he had been reincarnated into an homunculus body. Vindictively, Harry made sure a thick stream of drool fell from his open mouth, forever locked in an idiotic gesture.

A little magical residue, and the scene would tell a very different tale from that had happened there that night.

Harry retied himself to the tombstone, making sure the wound in his arm bled a little.

All that was left was to wait.

Hogwarts,
Site of the Third Taks of the TriWizard Tournament (Quidditch Court)

Minister Fudge insisted on going with the group, until a very annoyed Amelia Bones set him straight. "You saw the state young Cedric Diggory arrived. He said there were Death Eaters involved. If you are going with us, you better be ready to fight. And to fight hard."

That took the wind off his sails. "Um… Amelia, on a second thought, i think it will be better to leave this in your capable hands." Seeing the fear in Minister Fudge's eyes, the people closest to the group began to retreat slowly. This was the signal for the crowd to finally disperse. No one wanted top be there, should the dreaded Death Eater make an impromptu visit. Soon, the sound of dozens of aparattions became mere background noise, until the Quidditch court was almost empty.

Madame Bones nodded, satisfied of having rid herself from the dead weight. She had called for reinforcements after setting a ward around the Triwizard Cup. If Cedric was right, anybody touching it would be sent to whatever place the portkey had been surreptitiously set up to, aside the judges table.

It was at this point that a water beetle set itself on Amelia Bones' cloak. The head of the DMLE directed the best Aurors at her disposal to form a circle around the TriWizard Tournament cup, "Very well, people. At my signal, grab the cup with your off-hand. Be ready to shoot first and ask questions later. If you see Mr. Potter, protect him. Any Death Eater is to be captured and brought to a cell. But don't hesitate to put them down hard of you have to."

"Amelia, I must insist on your people to use only Stunners. I will accompany you, or course. If there's any chance Voldemort has been resurrected, you'll need my help."

She exhaled an exasperated breath. "Listen to me, Dumbledore. You saw the state poor Mr. Diggory arrived. He had been obviously tortured! I appreciate the offer to help, but don't even think I will allow my people to risk their lives going into a possible ambush by using stunners, you are out of your mind. You want to stick to harmless spells, fine! But my people and I will respond accordingly to any attack. Is that understood?"

Dumbledore's lips thinned into a line. "I'm afraid I cannot allow that, Amelia."

"Fine! Stay then!" At her signal, all the Aurors grabbed the cup and were portkeyed away, leaving a stunned Dumbledore behind.

A young witch almost ran to the Hospital Wing. There was a chance that once the Aurors rescued Harry, they would take him to the Hospital Wing for First Aid, before they took him to St. Mungo's for long term treatment.

Hermione Granger intended to be there, waiting for him.

While she ran, she did something she wouldn't have done in other circumstances.

She prayed.

St. Mungo's Hospital
Emergency Ward

"We're losing him! More magic! I need a Revitas potion, immediately! Sandra! Keep pumping magic in his core!"

Ministry of Magic
Several Locations

The WWN had fallen silent after the signal that the Cup had been claimed. At first, to keep the listeners in suspense, then, because the anchors had no idea of what had happened to the Champion who had claimed the cup.

Hesitantly, the voice in the Wireless said that several members of the public had fallen for some reason or another.

The expected cheers and boos for the Champion of the TriWizard Tournament never arrived, replaced instead by screams of pain and horror, as many wizards and witches at the Ministry fell to the floor, tortured expressions setting their faces into screaming masks. Without exception, all of them grabbed their left forearms, howling and screeching like souls condemned to Hell.

Which, after all, they were.

St. Mungo's Hospital
Waiting Room

"Sorry, old man. For what it's worth, you have my condolences. I hope you'll find some comfort in knowing your son might have saved Harry Potter's life." Deadman had left Cedric Diggory's body behind, and was about to get back to Little Hangleton Cemetery. But he hesitated before leaving. Watching the worried father pacing around in the waiting room, he wished he could be heard by the man.

"We are very sorry, Mr. Diggory. Your son fought bravely, but in the end, the spells he was subjected to were too much for his body. I… I don't know from where did he manage to get the strength to return."

Amos Diggory sat on a chair, his heart breaking into pieces. He raised his hands and buried his face in them.

Several hours later, Amelia Bones would find him there, sobbing softly.

Seeing her, he finally had composed himself, and asked for the Potter boy.

A Dingy Bar,
Somewhere in London

A dishevelled man wearing a dirty trenchcoat sat straighter in his seat at a dark booth. He looked around, searching for the source of a deep chill that made his very soul shake in fear. Quickly, the took three packages of sugar, a fistful of peanuts, and a safety pin.

He poured the sugar over a white handkerchief (that somehow managed to remain pure white, despite everything the blonde man had done during the previous week), and then prickled his left index with the safety pin, dropping exactly seven drops of blood on the peanuts.

The man wrapped the sugar and the bloody peanuts with the handkerchief, shook it thrice, and let it fall on the table.

He examined the patterns of blood and sugar around the peanuts. The bloodstains had formed the image of a hooded man, wrapped in a long cloak. The face was hidden in shadows.

"Bloody hell," the man hissed through clenched teeth. "A new Spectre… here in England…" Quickly, he gathered his stuff, put several notes on the table, and exited the bar. Suddenly, getting rip-roaring drunk seemed to be both the best and the worst idea in the universe. He called for a taxi, thinking 'I think it's time for me to go back to the colonies. Things are gonna heat up over here…'

Just as he boarded the taxi, he said, "To the airport, quick."

"Sure, guv", the driver said, stepping on the pedal.

Constantine ran a quick inventory of what he had at hand. 'Great, ', he thought. 'I'm going to have to ride on a synchronicity wave. I hope there's one today.'

Author Notes:

One of the most strange ideas DC has published in their long time in the business was the basis for the Warlord book. Basically, Travis Morgan, a USA pilot, flew a plane through a hole in the North Pole, somehow ending up in a high fantasy land; with magic, castles, barbarians, wizards, and even dinosaurs! (1st Issue Special Vol 1, Issue 8; November, 1975)

This place, called Skartaris by its inhabitants, was thought to be located inside the Earth, according to an old, (currently discredited) theory that had been used in several novels. In short, the Earth is hollow, the interior surface is habitable, and in the very center there's a little sun.

Travis Morgan ended up settling down in Skartaris, having a multitude of adventures that Conan himself would have been interested to hear while drinking a few tankards of spiced wine or heavy ale.

At this point, the DC Universe really begins to take notice of Harry's new job. Both Madame Xanadu and John Constantine have realized there is a new Spectre. In The Spectre, volume 2, Madame Xanadu was a recurrent ally of Jim Corrigan, though their relationship ended up very strained, due to her having deceived him in that volume, aiming at usurping his power to create an earthly utopia. She even got to partly realize that goal in The Spectre Vol 3, Issue 7 (June, 1993), though Corrigan managed to wrest it back from her. (personally, and due to my disgust with Gene Colan's work, I will definitively not be checking out The Spectre volume 2, so any references to the events there, will be taken from the DC Wikia).

Later on, Madame Xanadu was instrumental on curbing Corrigan's desperation and grief over Amy Beiterman's fate.

Ragnok is not exaggerating, the Spectre really is capable of razing a country so completely not even bacteria can survive his wrath. Just ask anybody in the DCU about Vlatava (The Spectre Vol 3, Issue 13; December, 1993). So, John Constantine's attitude is understable. The man has a finely tuned survival instinct, and being anywhere close to a new Spectre has its dangers. Especially for somebody so marinated in guilt as Constantine.

Next chapter, Harry gets several visits, both friends and possible allies.