Harry Potter: First Gods Rise Again
ARC 1
Part 1:The Uprising
The day of the third task.
After a night of restless dreams, Harry awoke to the morning of the third Triwizard task. Still groggy from poor sleep, Harry nearly stubbed his toe as he crept out of his bed. He quietly put on his running clothes, slipped out of the dorm, and headed towards the lake.
As he began his usual run, Harry felt sick with anxiety. What misery did they have in store for him and the others? Beginning with a slow jog, Harry began to feel a bit calmer as his muscles warmed up. By the time he approached the far side of the lake bordering the Forbidden Forest, he was running at his usual fast pace. That was when he heard a noise.
'He is coming. The Voice of the Storms shall rise once more, Harry Potter, and nothing is going to stop it. ...The One-Who-Is-Many, shall rise again. He is coming, Harry Potter...He is coming...'
Harry arrived just in time to see a snow-white snake bursting into flecks of light. Harry got chills down his spine once he recalled the words of the snake. He wondered what it meant by 'The Voice of the Storms'. Who was the 'The Voice of the Storms' ? And who was this 'The-One-Who-Is-Many?' Who were these people? He made a mental note to ask either Hermione or Dumbledore sometime soon because he had more pressing matters to attend to. More specifically, his nerves regarding the third task.
It was the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry just entered the maze like the other champions. It had been 15-20 minutes since he faced Boggarts, Acromantulas and Hagrid's Blast Ended Skrewts. Now he faced something strangely mundane. Snakes. Dozens of snakes.
Knowing the nature of the Triwizard Tournament that Hermione had drilled into his head, he knew that they almost always had magical beasts. But non-magical normal snakes? Why?"The bloody hell? Snakes? Why snakes of all things?" he thought.
"Move," he hissed at the snakes in parseltongue, commanding them to slither aside.
The snakes hissed back quite stubbornly, "No we won't…."And they started attacking him viciously, like the very snakes they were. Thinking on his feet, He yelled " REDUCTO!" and vaporized the snakes that came in contact with the spell. He cast it again and again to make himself a pathway because he didn't want to deal with some random snakes on his path and wanted to avoid any and all sorts of conflict. As he was running into the distance, he heard one of the snakes hiss something so ominous, that those words would be etched into his mind for the foreseeable future.
"Expect the unexpected, Harry Potter. As he would not hesitate to do something out of the box to kill you."
But while running, he didn't notice a symbol engraved on the walls, vanishing.
A snake eating its own tail. It's eyes were following Harry as he moved past. Then the bloody emblem grinned.
He never felt more tired in his fourteen years of life. This was the most he ever ran. It was taking a toll on his body. Sure he ran every morning to increase his stamina but this was tiring. As his energy was slowly waning out, he slowed down to a walk. As he was walking through the maze, his thoughts wandered around a variety of subjects. But primarily, they were focused on 2 things.
2 topics of his dreams he had re-occuringly.
One being of a snake eating its own tail and the second being of some war. Some alien war. With a 3 headed dragon as his enemy. And he looked like to be some sort of a bipedal lizard. Which is like 400 feet tall.
What he could gather from this dream was that the 3 headed dragons had attacked the bipedal radioactive lizard's species and the radioactive lizards fought back. And in the dream, he was the last of the bipedial lizards and he had frozen the last 3 headed dragon somewhere for eternity.
A series of pictures play in his head everytime he tries to sleep. It always is the same bipedial lizard firing a...blue ray at a three headed dragon. Wait a minute, upon remembering the pictures, Harry realised the bipedial lizard must be... radioactive as the blue beam has hints of purple in it.
As he was walking down the maze, whispers could be heard coming from the bushes but Harry couldn't hear them as he was too focused to notice.
"He is coming. Death's champion is coming.."
Harry broke out his stupor once he heard the word "Death." 'Death's Champion is coming? What does this even mean?' he thought. While thinking about this, he didnt realise that he had reached the cup and a loud crash of lightning broke him out of his stupor. Shaken, he looked around to see if there were any other beings he needed to take care of. As he was turning around a corner, he saw a giant statue of a Sphinx blocking the way. Dumbfounded at the obstacle, he wondered what would be the next challenge.
"I will ask you a riddle, Triwizard Champion." the sphinx hummed in a deep voice with a hint of an Egyptian accent to it.
"Ok, go on." answered Harry. He was totally unprepared for a riddle to come up of all things.
"Dread it.
Run from it.
Do whatever you can,
it arrives all the same.
There is no hiding, only running from the inevitable.
Running from Thanatos.
What am I?"
Harry had to think a bit. "Hmm, inevitable, what can be inevitable? Death, darkness as there is always something to fight the light. Wait, death? It's DEATH!" he yelled out.
"Very well... Harry Potter. Dread it, run from it, destiny still arrives all the same. The era of destruction... looms near. He is coming.Half of all life would cease to exist. He...is coming. Death's champion is coming." the sphinx said and moved aside to let Harry pass.
Stunned by the sphinx's words, he didn't ask anything as he was processing what the sphinx just said.
"Death's champion? This sphinx too? What's up with all of these ominous riddles lately?" he thought as he passed through. But as he turned around the corner, he was greeted with a bright sight.
He saw Cedric struggling against an Acromantula. So, he rushed towards the scene and used a spell that he had used many times in his second year which saved his ass a lot in the Forbidden Forest
"ARANIA EXUMAI," he roared.
"STUPEFY," he cast to make sure it stays.
The acromantula was blown away and rendered unconscious . Thankfully.
"Thanks Potter" panted out Cedric. "Anytime Cedric." replied Harry, clearly high on adrenaline
"So, Harry take the cup" said Cedric, clearly wanting Harry to have the win. "No, Cedric,let us both take it. Either way it's a Hogwarts victory" refused Harry, clearly having none of Cedric's nonsense. Cedric thought about that. After a few moments, he gave in and sighed out "Alright."
As soon as they both held the cup, they got whisked away. As he got whisked away, dreadful realisation filled him once he recognised what the Triwizard cup actually was.
It was a Portkey
Harry felt his feet slam into the ground; his injured leg gave way, and he fell forward; his hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. He raised his head.
"Where are we?" he said.
Cedric shook his head. He got up, pulled Harry to his feet, and they looked around.
They had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; they had obviously traveled miles - perhaps hundreds of miles - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. They were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right. A hill rose above them to their left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.
Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry.
"Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?" he asked.
"Nope," said Harry. He was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"
"I dunno," said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"
"Yeah," said Harry, glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him.
They pulled out their wands. Harry kept looking around him. He had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched.
"Someone's coming," he said suddenly.
Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward them between the graves. Harry couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, he could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And - several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time - Harry saw that the thing in the person's arms looked like a baby...or was it merely a bundle of robes?
Harry lowered his wand slightly and glanced sideways at Cedric. Cedric shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure.
It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second. Harry and Cedric and the short figure simply looked at one another.
And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all; his head was about to split open.
From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare."
A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!"
A blast of green light blazed through Harry's eyelids, and he heard something heavy fall to the ground beside him; the pain in his scar reached such a pitch that he retched, and then it diminished; terrified of what he was about to see, he opened his stinging eyes.
Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground. Seemingly dead. But as Harry was about to turn his head away, he caught Cedric's chest moving upwards and downward in a rhythmic motion, ever so slightly.
"Wormtail, do it now" gasped out the same hissing voice.
The short man in the cloak had put down his bundle, lit his wand, and was dragging Harry toward the marble headstone. Harry saw the name upon it flickering in the wandlight before he was forced around and slammed against it.
'TOM RIDDLE SENIOR' the gravestone read.
The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Harry, tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. Harry could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; he struggled, and the man hit him - hit him with a hand that had a finger missing. And Harry realized who was under the hood. It was Wormtail.
"You!" he gasped.
But Wormtail, who had finished conjuring the ropes, did not reply; he was busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, fumbling over the knots. Once sure that Harry was bound so tightly to the headstone that he couldn't move an inch, Wormtail drew a length of some black material from the inside of his cloak and stuffed it roughly into Harry's mouth; then, without a word, he turned from Harry and hurried away. Harry couldn't make a sound, nor could he see where Wormtail had gone; he couldn't turn his head to see beyond the headstone; he could see only what was right in front of him.
Cedric was lying some twenty feet away. Some way beyond him, glinting in the starlight, lay the Triwizard Cup. Harry's wand was on the ground at Cedric's feet. The bundle of robes that Harry had thought was a baby was close by, at the foot of the grave. It seemed to be stirring fretfully. Harry watched it, and his scar seared with pain again...and he suddenly knew that he didn't want to see what was in those robes...he didn't want that bundle opened...
He could hear noises at his feet. He looked down and saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where he was tied. Wormtail's fast, wheezy breathing was growing louder again. It sounded as though he was forcing something heavy across the ground. Then he came back within Harry's range of vision, and Harry saw him pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave. It was full of what seemed to be water - Harry could hear it slopping around - and it was larger than any cauldron Harry had ever used; a great stone belly large enough for a full-grown man to sit in.
The thing inside the bundle of robes on the ground was stirring more persistently, as though it was trying to free itself. Now Wormtail was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly there were crackling names beneath it. The large snake slithered away into the darkness.
The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat very fast. The surface began not only to bubble, but to send out fiery sparks, as though it were on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Wormtail tending the fire. The movements beneath the robes became more agitated. And Harry heard the high, cold voice again.
"Hurry!"
The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. It might have been encrusted with diamonds.
"It is ready. Master."
"Now..." said the cold voice.
Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Harry let out a yell that was strangled in the wad of material blocking his mouth.
It was as though Wormtail had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.
The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms, put them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail lifted it. As he did so, his hood fell back, and Harry saw the look of revulsion on Wormtail's weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron. For one moment, Harry saw the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. And then Wormtail lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface; Harry heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.
Let it drown, Harry thought, his scar burning almost past endurance, please...let it drown...
Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.
"Bone of the father, willingly taken, you will revive your son" said the now named and known Wormtail.
The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.
And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.
"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master."
He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.
Harry realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened - he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. He heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron. Harry couldn't stand to look...but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids...
Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Not until Harry felt Wormtail's anguished breath on his face did he realize that Wormtail was right in front of him.
"B-blood of the enemy...forcibly taken...you will...resurrect your foe."
Harry tried to resist against the binds but he couldn't. His attempts were futile for what was about to come. No, he wouldn't let him come close. He thrashed against the binds and tried to do whatever he could against the tough binds, but his attempts were all for naught.
Wormtail neared, knife raised. He slashed Harry's arm and got a little of his blood on the blade. On the path of returning, he smiled like a psycho towards Harry and mustered the strength to give a mocking smile.
He felt its point penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes. Wormtail, still panting with pain, rumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.
He staggered back to the cauldron with Harry's blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.
The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened...
Let it have drowned. Harry thought, let it have gone wrong...
And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Harry, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air...It's gone wrong, he thought...it's drowned ...please...please let it be dead...
The materials inside the cauldron bubbled. Made bubbling noises and the figure that was dropped in, flew upwards and hovered above the cauldron. It looked unnatural, even disturbing to look at. The creature grew. His arms lengthened, feet lengthened, his skull grew, he canines grew and shortened to the appropriate size then seemingly disappeared into the mist.
But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.
"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one-handed over his master's head.
The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry...and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snakes with slits for nostrils...
Lord Voldemort had risen again.
Lord Voldemort had risen again.
Looking otherworldly, like a demon, with his chalk white skin which was whiter than a skull,nose as flat as a snakes, fangs as sharp and curved as a black mamba and livid scarlet eyes. Every word he spoke sounded like a hiss. It was truly a morbid sight to behold.
"Wand,Wormtail" said Voldemort's high cold voice.
Wormtail handed him his wand, clearly not wanting any conflicts or consequential harm.
His robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.
"My Lord..." he choked, "my Lord...you promised...you did promise..."
"Hold out your arm Wormtail." said Voldemort lazily.
"Oh Master...thank you, Master..."
He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed a cold mirthless laugh.
Voldemort however had other plans.
"The other arm, Wormtail."
Master, please...please..."
Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow, and Harry saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth - the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.
"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it...and now, we shall see...now we shall know..."
He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.
The scar on Harry's forehead seared with a sharp pain again, and Wormtail let out a fresh howl; Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's mark, and Harry saw that it had turned jet black.
A look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Voldemort straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.
"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"
He began to pace up and down before Harry and Wormtail, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, he looked down at Harry again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face.
"You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly. "A Muggle and a fool...very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child...and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death..."
Voldemort laughed again. Up and down he paced, looking all around him as he walked, and the snake continued to circle in the grass.
"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was...He didn't like magic, my father...
"He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born. Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage...but I vowed to find him...I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name...Tom Riddle..."
Still he paced, his red eyes darting from grave to grave.
"Listen to me, reliving family history..." he said quietly, "why, I am growing quite sentimental...But look, Harry! My true family returns..."
The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward...slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes.
"Master...Master..." he murmured.
The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Harry, Voldemort, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was Wormtail. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people. Voldemort, however, did not seem to expect more. He looked around at the hooded faces, and though there was no wind rustling, it seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered.
More and more began to fill in.
He quickly yanked Wormtail's bloody stump and made a hand out of silver.
"A gift of loyalty Wormtail." he hissed.
After a minute or so, plenty of Death Eaters came in.
Voldemort proclaimed, ""Welcome, Death Eaters," said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years...thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"
He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening.
"I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air.
A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare to step back from him.
"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact - such prompt appearances! and I ask myself...why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"
No one spoke. No one moved except Wormtail, who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.
"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment ...
"And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proof of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?
"And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort...perhaps they now pay allegiance to another...perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"
At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them.
"It is a disappointment to me...I confess myself disappointed..."
One of the men shakily stepped forward and began.
"But my lord,all over the papers it said you were dead. So we didn't make any major moves to find you because we didn't want to look suspicious now because the Aurors and the Law Enforcements were on the high to capture remaining Death Eaters...We didn't want to go and be stuck in Azkaban"
"So Lucius, you didn't think that I would perhaps return one day? That I would come back, and free all of you if you ever were to be in Azkaban? ANSWER ME!" he roared.
"N-No my lord" continued the now known Lucius. "I-We knew that you would return. It is just th-that there were way too many people on watch the f-following days so it was difficult to do anything."
"CRUCIO!" Voldemort snapped.
Lucius writhed on the ground in pain. Pain he was accustomed to, but it hit him like a truck after fourteen years. It felt as if his skin was being peeled away and thousands of hot knives were stabbing him all over the body.
"I.. am...sorry…. my Lord. It won't happen again" Lucius managed to gasp out once Voldemort finished the spell.
"It better be… DO YOU ALL REALISE IF YOU ALL ABANDON ME,WHAT WOULD BE THE CONSEQUENCES? What I showed you just now was just a small glimpse… the actual consequences are much worse.." and then he smiled.
Voldemort smiled.
It was a creepy smile that they won't forget in their lives and chorused "Yes my lord"
When all of this was happening, Harry was trying to loosen the bonds and take the portkey and run with Cedric. Voldemort however heard the shuffling and turned around to look at the source of the noise. He was...smiling when he saw the Golden boy of Gryffindor.
"Ah Harry, I forgot you were here… How are you?"
Harry just looked at him with anger, hate and a bit of disgust.
"No answer? Ahh... tsk tsk tsk tsk. You need to have better manners than that"
He then loosened the bond,and whispered in his ear and said "What will your mother say Harry? Do you want to be with them? Do you want to be stomped on like a cockroach like your mother? Do you want to die like your mudblood mother did Harry?..."
"DON'T TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER LIKE THAT!"
Voldemort reeled back and sneered.
"Very well... CRUCIO!"
Harry yelled in pain and he was writhing all over.
His back was arching in pain. The other pains he had felt were psychological pains. And was this one physical or psychological? He couldn't tell. He couldn't think straight. All he knew was pain. This was the worst one he ever felt.
"Ah,the Cruciatus...one of my favourites… such a brilliant creation... Won't you say so Harry?" Voldemort asked him as if he were just marvelling at a creation that changed the world like Edison's bulb.
He then cancelled the spell. Harry was panting and gasping for air. He never felt so breathless.
Voldemort put him under the spell again and he watched on in morbid fascination.
This went on for a couple of minutes
He said "Ah Harry,you wouldn't last against me. I will put you in so much pain that you won't forget it. But I will make it known that I tortured their saviour until he begged for death. And I as a merciful lord, obliged."
Then he wandlessly levitated Harry by his face and made some distance. Once at his preferred distance, he cast a Sonorous and said "GET UP! GET UP POTTER! SHOW ME WHAT YOU CAN DO! They taught you duelling, didn't they?" Harry grabbed his wand from the ground.
"So bow, Dumbledore would want you to have manners"
Harry didn't bow
"I said BOW!"
And then he cast the Imperius on Harry to make him bow but Harry resisted it. Voldemort was faintly surprised and was a bit impressed. Albeit grudgingly, but still impressed.
He banished Harry a few feet away and cast the killing curse.
Harry dodged it and hid behind a gravestone.
"DO NOT HIDE FROM ME HARRY POTTER! FIGHT ME! FIGHT ME UNTIL I KILL YOU! I WANT TO SEE THE LIGHT LEAVE YOUR EYES!!!!!!"
Harry was scared
He thought "Make it or break it. Best go down with a Fight. I won't let him kill me that easily."
He then stood up with fear and determination.
He never felt more scared in his life.
They took positions and screamed at the same time
" AVADA KEDAVRA!"
"EXPELLIARMUS!"
AN:- Profound apologies if I have made any errors. English is not my first language.
Also, credits to the Evansmeister for the cover art work. Check out his YouTube channel.
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https/m./watch?v=RiqsekSN3v8
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link to one of his vids. Go check him out and show him some love and support.