"Avada Kedavra" Voldemort spoke the word as if it were his lover, his eyes flashing the deepest scarlet that Harry had ever seen. Lost in the hatred in that gaze, he nearly didn't react in time.

With a flick, twist and jab a stone appeared in front of the flash of green exploding in a shower of shards, which were transfigured instantly into knives. Knives that flew towards Voldemort who laughed as he vanished them all with a sweeping wave.

"Finally, a Triwizard chosen who is putting up a fight! Let us dance Harry Potter… the Boy Who Lived, the Miniature Mage, Hogwarts Chosen verses Lord Voldemort, the Death Dealer, The Darkest Wizard in History!" Voldemort spoke with a savage glee as Harry's eyes flicked towards Viktor and Fleur. The latter was still stunned, while the former was twitching on the ground still in residual agony from the Cruciatus that he was held under. Voldemort caught the eye movement and spoke once again," Don't worry Harry… They don't truly interest me. My full attention is on you. No need to be jealous. Now, take a moment. Take a breath. Embrace the fight. Show me what the last Potter is capable of before I end your line." Voldemort straightened and folded his arms, waiting for when Harry was ready to duel him.

Harry took a deep breath. His eyes shut for a moment and in his mind, he saw Remus and Sirius, Cedric, Minerva with Ron and Hermione. In his mind, Remus was holding a screaming Sirius, who was begging him to run, to not do this. That it wasn't worth it. Cedric, holding his wand, knowing the choice his pupil made. Minerva hugging Hermione tightly as she shakes, knowing the history between Voldemort and Harry as Ron sits dumbfounded. The last person he saw was Severus Snape standing with the Headmaster of Hogwarts. The only man who looked as if into Harry's eyes even though Harry knew it was all in his head began to talk to him.

Albus Dumbledore spoke tears running down his face,"Harry, I am so sorry. But this is something only you can choose to do. You know the facts." Severus Snape spoke, his voice soft, his eyes never looking away from the tears on Dumbledore's face. "Kill him Potter. Kill him for her, for your father. For the lives he ruined and the lives he took. It's my one request, kill him, destroy him."

Harry came back to himself, the sound of the black flames that surrounded the area they were in rushing in his ears. He reached into his shirt, yanking the vial loose, and popping open the stopper. His voice started to carry on the wind, the charms layered around the whole area to project the sound to the audience easily picking it up.

"Sirius… all of you. I'm sorry. But today is the day Voldemort dies!" Harry's eyes snapped open his gaze steely on the scarlet of the Dark Lord. Never breaking eye contact, he chugged the potion.

It burned his throat as he threw the vial away pointed his wand towards his enemy and started to speak. His Rule thundered through the air, its existence shaking the very wind. With each word, more green magic started to waft off Harry's body.

"All that came before I am. By my name, I stand. CORONATIO!"

An explosion of magic consumed the area, as Harry was engulfed in power.

Sirius was being held back by a crying Remus, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Don't do this! Please kid RUN!" The crowd around them were in tears, some screaming as Voldemort broadcast his return in the most visceral display most of them had ever seen. Cornelius Fudge, standing in front of his seat could be seen quietly muttering that it couldn't be real, that he couldn't be back. Ron sat in shock beside his girlfriend, who was being held by the Hogwarts Transfiguration professor. Hermione continued to hysterically cry, her mumblings always about "He swore to survive." Cedric, his wand still aloft producing the honey colored nexus protecting the crowd held his father, the hole in his chest blatant in its existence. If his gaze could kill, Voldemort would be nothing but a smear on the ground.

All of them were in shock, internally screaming if not externally. Not even one knew what to do, couldn't move, couldn't react to the fact that Voldemort, the darkest wizard to ever walk the British Isles was back.

Then Harry spoke his Rule and the pressure came. The world seemed to buckle as the pressure descended. Magic saturated the air, visible to the naked eye. The crowd, crying or in shock were forced into their seats as the pressure keep rising. The stands, built to house the thousands in attendance, groaned in protest as the weight increased.

Cedric, still holding the corpse of his father felt the Protective Nexus he wove falter from the sheer pressure of the Crowning. "This… this isn't real. He's fourteen… this shouldn't be real."

Sirius stopped struggling as the pressure came. He just knelt in the stands, knowing that it was too late to stop his godson. Remus just held his shoulder in comfort.

Albus raised his wand, fighting the pressure that seemingly kept doubling. With a phrase in a forgotten language, he cast a protective barrier, to save the crowd from being crushed.

All Harry could hear was screaming, hundreds of voices, hundreds of thoughts racing through his mind, as the powers, personalities and memories of every Potter that had ever Crowned fought inside him for dominion.

Unlike some families, the family magic of the Potters was learned by anyone in the family who wished to learn, with the rule being that if you learned from it, you added to it. All of these countless faces of Ancestors screamed advice, strategies, spells, curses and more to Harry as the magic finally started to settle. He had to move just to make it stop!

He slashed his wand, revealing his form to the world.

His face was covered by a mask, made of white porcelain, two images of feathers on his cheeks, one in green and one in gold. The mask had a golden lightning bolt on the forehead and was topped by three spines similar to a crown, two of which were angled slightly back for a streamlined look. The eyes however were covered by three bars of porcelain, as if caged.

Voldemort smiled as the boy finished his preparation. "Come Harr-" He blasted away the trio of wolves conjured by the boy with a twitch of his wand. "YES! COME FOR ME BOY!" His wand started to blur as dozens of curses started to race towards Harry.

Harry's body burned, but not as if it were on fire, but more as if he had heavily exercised. His magic on the other hand, felt like an ocean during a hurricane. It was taking everything he had to block, counter and ricochet the curses erupting from Voldemort's wand. Blasting curses countered blood based curses, bone breakers countered cutters, and cutters countered standard hexes. This mantra kept being repeated by the voices in Harry's head, even if he tried conjuring. Yet everything he sent forward Voldemort easily countered.

Voldemort slowly started to frown as he continued to cast. He quickly sent two killing curses and apparated to the left before continuing to cast. His frown deepened.

"Why are you so boring Potter? Your father fought better than this when he put on a mask!" Voldemort taunted as he formed a shield and started to move his wand in a counterclockwise flick. In front of him was a massive orb of fire, blue in the center. Tapping it with his wand, it started to blast forth fireballs, each the size of a baseball.

Harry shook his head as a dozen voices told him to move and a dozen more told him to shield. Working swiftly, he conjured an iron ring, which he then transfigured into a giant chain. The Prongs' Defense swiftly went to work, as Harry started to slash the fireballs into embers.

Between each fireball, he quickly shot curses towards Voldemort, who was pointing his wand at the earth and chanting quietly. Each curse fell upon his shield and was absorbed.

Voldemort finally looked up as his chanting ended. With a sick smile he twisted his wand up, and pointed at Harry. "Obladia."

The shield around Voldemort, a blue sphere, condensed into a blue lion's head, tethered to the earth around Voldemort's feet. In its open mouth, a black orb of magic swirled.

Harry narrowed his eyes and slashed furiously in the air while thinking, "Drax". A dragon of simmering air blasted forward making Voldemort growl. With a jab, the lion's head rushed to meet the dragon, ending in a small explosion.

As the explosion faded, Harry saw an empty spot where Voldemort was. He took a single step forward when it felt like the Hogwarts Express smashed into his side.

The snap of Harry's arm was heard all over the stands as the amplification charms picked it up.

Voldemort smiled as the boy struggled to his feet, without losing his wand. "Did you like that Harry? It's the Concussion Hex. I reinvented it in my Third Year. It is one of the most fun hexes… Let's try a favorite curse of mine shall we?" He raised his wand and its tip slightly lowered before raising again. From the tip, a savage whip appeared, thorns along its length. With a flourish, Voldemort started to whip the Boy Who Lived.

The shield charm that Harry erected was completely ignored by the black whip, its thorns slamming into the flesh and tearing out small chunks as it cracked against his back. For the first time, the screaming wasn't just in his head.

Voldemort laughed as he brought the whip down again and again.

Severus was counting in his head as he watched the Dark Lord eviscerate the Last Potter. 289. 290. 291. 292. As a potion master, Severus had a sense of time only matched by the most perfect of time pieces. As the final second passed of his 5 minute mental count, he watched as the boy stopped screaming.

The voices and the pain disappeared. Harry's eyes opened and in front of him was a darkened room. Several people stood in the room, their faces blurry, as if under charms. No matter how hard Harry looked, the faces did not clear. His gaze was brought deeper into the room as movement stripped the peace of the room. A giggle started to sound from the darkness in the back of the room.

"It's time for me to play Harry. Don't worry… it will be fun."

Voldemort tilted his head as the boy stopped screaming and instead started to giggle. He raised the whip again and brought it down.

CRACK.

Harry was across the field, still giggling.

"Hello Voldemort. Let's play."

With a flick, the whip was vanished in a puff of black smoke, only for Voldemort to lash out with a Crucio.

The red bolt was swallowed whole by a black star, held in the air by Harry's wand.

"Hehe, Stygia. One of my favorite curses. The Warp Star is my specialty after all." With a flick, the star multiplied into a half dozen of itself.

Voldemort growled softly. The Warp Star curse was one of the few known defensive curses that could block the Unforgivable Curses. It was a gateway curse, one that branched into unknown deviations, and one he had never bothered to learn.

Harry continued to giggle as the stars finally formed a ring around the two. "Stygia Neuro"

In a flash of black, the red bolt that Voldemort knew instinctively was his Crucartius curse started to travel around the circle, warping between the stars, circling the two in the center. Blinking out of existence at the next star, the bolt slammed into Voldemort's back making him scream in agony.

With a roar, Voldemort lashed out, his wand a blur as he fired mass hexes and curses. Each one was dark as the night that was slowly coming. Blood letters, blood boilers, organ rupturing, and even some acid curses flew straight towards the Masked Potter. With cackles, each was deflected towards a star, or vanished entirely with countercurses or anti-hexes. The movements were fluid, economical and even at points lazy. Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

"You are not Harry Potter." The statement finally stopped the giggles. The Masked Potter was silent for a moment before responding in a mocking voice.

"It took you one minute, thirty-four seconds. Congratulations, you are as intelligent as a gnome. You are right. Harry isn't driving anymore. You can call me Nero." Nero cackled as he started to attack.

Voldemort had to actually work to defend himself as dozens of curses hexes and combat spells flew towards him, several of which he knew instinctively were familiar based magics. Dragon heads of air, rock and water crashed into shields, cutting curses that cut spells in half, piercing curses that exploded inside the constructs that blocked them. And those blasted damn stars swallowing any Unforgivable curse. It was only a matter of time, as a seemingly colorless spell slipped between Voldemort's defenses freezing him into place.

"About time. It took much too long for you to stop moving." Nero laughed as he circled his wand around his head. Voldemort's eyes widened as the Warp Stars that had been intercepting over a dozen unforgivable curses slowly spiraled towards him.

"You know, I may be considered the Darkest Potter, but I am definitely a Potter. You don't get to fuck with my family. So, goodbye Voldemort." Nero braced the body he was borrowing as he pointed Harry's wand at the Dark Lord. "Stygia Delens!"

With a snap, Voldemort broke the antimobility charm, whipped his wand up, and hissed,"Perstof REFRACTO"

The Stars let their absorbed curses fly at the same time, creating a literal beam of magical death that was slowed slightly by the deep green of the Shield Voldemort cast.

A millisecond was all Voldemort needed to apparate behind Nero and let loose with a cutter, a faster curse than even the Avada Kedavra.

Blood splattered against the rocks as Nero rolled forward. With a flick, the wound across his shoulder blades healed with a hiss of steam, and the blood on the ground erupted in blue flames.

"Hehe. I love this! This feeling of freedom in a fight. Sadly Voldemort. This is over. Goodbye for now. Hehehe." Nero pointed his wand at the stands, which started to creak ominously. Slowly they started to lean, the occupants screaming as they tried to hold on.

"Accio"

His mind working swiftly, Albus Dumbledore yelled for his phoenix Fawks as soon as Harry's masked eyes met his. He felt a tendril of thought ease into his mind and speak.

"Old man, I am going to summon the stands. I can't beat him, but I can slow him down enough to get him to retreat. Save 'em if you can." In an instant he knew what Harry was going to do. With a look, he saw that Harry had positioned Voldemort away from the other two unconscious Chosen all to ensure this last ditch effort didn't kill them.

Even as the stands started to move, Fawks heeded Albus' call, and started to shake feathers down. Every person the feather touched was flashed away. In a moment, the audience was gone, and the stands that housed them plowed towards Nero and Voldemort.

The mask that shielded Harry's face from the world slowly shattered as he summoned the stands towards them. A maddening smile split his face as his eyes burned green with magical power. With a crack, he apparated, leaving the tons of rubble from what once were the stands to slam into his position.

With a twist, Voldemort tried to apparate only to slam back into the same position, the rubble still rolling towards him in a wave. He raised his wand.

Harry blasted out of the apparition and rolled on his injured shoulder. His whole body was in agony. It felt as if he had walked through fire, yet it only burned his internals. He took inventory of his body. There was a small wound on his leg from the rubble and his left arm hung loosely, completely useless. He looked around, spots dancing in front of his eyes. Around him, pieces of the anchor points of the stands still stood. In front of him, clear of the rubble, was the dais that housed the Goblet of Fire. Its black flames flickering with savage glee.

Harry kept looking around. The rubble stretched haphazardly towards a small mountain of debris, but he smiled when he saw his two companion Chosen unharmed. A falling rock took his attention from the two and placed it on the now shaking debris mountain.

In a flash of green fire, Voldemort blasted his way free. His once pristine black robes were ruined and shredded in places, showcasing the Dark Mark tattooed on his left forearm and a series of runic symbols in his right. His body exposed to the swiftly descending sun was well muscled and in places cut. His hair was a wild mane, with pieces of dust, stone and wood still in its grasp. His face was a mask of fury.

"You sniveling little insect. You foul piece of shite. I will kill you Harry. I will kill you slowly. Then, every single person you love will die. I swear to you Harry. I will not rest until I kill you." Voldemort took a single step forward his eyes locked on Harry's.

Harry reached up, and grasped something to help him stand, this action freezing Voldemort in place.

"You… you… Hahahahaha!" Voldemort threw back his head as he laughed. Harry looked over and saw that his hand was touching the base of the Goblet of Fire. Voldemort's laughter suddenly ceased, and a crack turned Harry's head from the Goblet to the Dark Lord less than a meter away.

"Congratulations Harry. You get to live today. You won the Tournament. I will have my pound of flesh today." Faster than Harry has ever seen, Voldemort turned and slashed his wand.

Viktor screamed as the massive cutting curse tore through the earth, his left arm, and the remaining rubble. He gripped the bleeding stump of his shoulder as his body shook.

Smiling grimily, Voldemort spat a curse in a language Harry didn't understand before turning back to Harry.

"I'll see you soon Harry."

With a crack he was gone, the black flames of the Goblet the only thing in the area moving.

As soon as the black fire of the Goblet disappeared, Sirius and Remus apparated to the other end of the Run. They were treated to something that would stay with them for the rest of their lives. Rubble from the stands littered the ground, and Harry sat leaning against the dais of the Goblet, with the now unlit cup in his grasp. The stench of blood, magic and death hung in the air as Harry stared vacantly at the corpse of Viktor Krum. Sirius and Remus took one look at the blood that spelled out "Voldemort Walks Again" before turning their attention back to Harry.

"Cmon kid. Its time to go." Sirius wrapped his godson's good arm around his shoulders, the Goblet still clutched tightly. Remus hurried to Fleur, who was only just now waking up.

"What happened? Is it over?" Fleur asked the grizzled man with the kind eyes softly.

"It's over Miss Delacour." The soft response made her sit up. With a smooth step, Remus blocked her sight of Viktor's body.

"I'd advise you not to move. You were under an Imperius curse. There is no telling what other orders you were given." The voice had a steel to it, hidden under the soft pity she felt radiate from the man.

"What.. what did I do?" Fleur asked, dreading the answer.

"You.. you killed Amos Diggory." Remus told her without flinching. Fleur just started to cry.

Harry sat in the Hospital Wing, surrounded by people. His arm was in a sling, Madam Pomfery already mending the wound but telling him to take it easy. Ron and Hermione sat to his left, with Minerva ending the trio at the left corner of the bed. Sirius and Remus made up his right side, with Cedric standing with his arms crossed as he glanced over to where the French witch sat crying surrounded by her family.

"Harry, I am so sorry- I don't know what else to say." Hermione blubbered softly as Harry sighed.

"Hermione, there was nothing anyone could do. When Voldemort decides you are going to die, you either fight… or you die." Harry spoke with a soft but firm voice before requesting them to move for a moment. After they did, he wiggled out of bed, the cold stone under his feet bringing him clarity.

Without a word he walked over to where Fleur sat crying. With a glance over his shoulder, he brought over Cedric before hugging the crying witch.

"Thank you. Thank you for stopping me thank you." Fleur cried into Harry's uninjured shoulder as Cedric joined them. Wrapping his arms around the two, Cedric hugged them both. Slowly he broke down in tears. Slipping from the two, Harry walked back over and hugged Sirius, holding him close.

As the Chosen were grieving, Albus sat in his office as Fredrick raged at Igor.

"YOU SAID HE WOULD BE FINE!" With a crack, Fredrick slapped Igor. The headmaster of Durmstrang took the blow, knowing he said it. Knowing he was wrong. His next words were said quietly, yet Fredrick still heard.

"I am sorry."

"YOU DON'T GET TO BE SORRY! BRING HIM BACK!" Fredrick screamed as he started to pound on Igor's chest, tears running down his face. In his mind, he heard Viktor promise to come back. To marry him. To have a family with him. A life together. Finally his tears overcame his anger.

"Why did he have to die?... why him? Why?" Fredrick collapsed into Igor's arms. Igor looked over to Albus asking him to answer as he held Fredrick close.

"Voldemort killed him because he couldn't touch Harry Potter. Voldemort killed him because Voldemort in a monster, a plague who deserves fates worse than death." Albus spoke his piece, his voice calming Fredrick's crying slowly. As the tears finally stopped, Fredrick pushed Karkaroff back, straightening his spine.

"Professor Dumbledore, how… how can I help kill him?" Fredrick asked through a hiccup. His gaze however was steady when he stared into Albus' eyes. There was a fire in those eyes Dumbledore mused. His response was stopped before he could open his mouth by Igor speaking.

"Fredrick, your father wouldn't-" Igor began before he was Silenced by Fredrick.

"My father and mother didn't want me with Viktor. My parents didn't want me to love a man. I don't give a damn what they want. I want Voldemort dead. How do I make that happen Dumbledore?"

Albus steeled himself, as he prepared to make decisions that would affect the rest of the war.

The Ministry was in an uproar as the heads of all the departments met in the Minister's Meeting Hall.

Cornelius Fudge sat fiddling with this top hat as Madam Bones gazed over the rest of the table, her eyes sharp. Madam Umbridge, who wasn't technically supposed to be there, stood silently behind Cornelius' chair. The heads of each Department ranked in order of importance sat. Across from Madame Bones, head of Magical Law Enforcement was the head of the Department of Mysteries. The heads the International Cooperation, Finance, Transportation, Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Magical Games and Sports each followed down the table.

Fudge started to speak, his voice squeaking slightly. "I think that we need to have a plan. What do we have?"

Madam Bones spoke efficiently," As of 0700 hours, the Dark Wizard known as Voldemort has reappeared-"

"Um-hum. Is that confirmed to be He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" Umbridge interrupted smiling as if she had just caught a fly as a toad.

"Magical resonance states yes, that it is the same wizard. Further evidence supports this, as seen in the images in the briefing packet Delores. Don't interrupt if you haven't read the update." Bones stated, her voice monotone. She continued.

"We got lucky. The only reason he could interfere with the Tournament itself was if he was considered an obstacle. According to all evidence, especially those of eyewitnesses, he was playing around most of the time. We only had two deaths, which is phenomenal."

"I assume we have the Potter boy to thank for that?" The raspy voice of the Head of the Department of Mysteries spoke out in the small silence after Bones' rundown.

"We can confirm that Harry Potter, using family magic, was able to hold back Voldemort for 7 minutes and 55 seconds. Only fully blooded Auror teams could say the same last war, outside of select groups." Madam Bones confirmed.

"That's all good Amelia. But what do we do?" Fudge asked.

"We consider ourselves at war Minister. We need aurors, we need hit wizards. And most importantly, we need to keep the muggles out of it. If Voldemort does as he did last time, that will be the most difficult aspect."

The meeting continued well into the night.

The next morning found all the students and adults staying at Hogwarts in the Great Hall, a single Wizarding Wireless on the Teacher's Table.

It is with a heavy heart, that I, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, declare the State of Magical Britain is in Emergency. The madman, terrorist and Dark Lord You-Know-Who has returned. Please know that your ministry is doing all it can to deal with this issue and that other than the State of Emergency, all ministry actions will proceed as normal. The Emergency acts are as follows.
All current Auror Trainees will embark in an accelerated training. The State Funded Hospital St. Mungo's is always to be ready for complete compacity. All ministry employees are to operate under Code Blue as per Ministry Handbook version 203. All Magical Britain embassies will operate under Code Blue guidelines as per Ministry Handbook version 203. As of today, the Hit Wizard Department is reactivated, and volunteers are heavily encouraged. Hit Wizard contracts are magical in nature and cannot be broken baring death. Please see your nearest ministry employee for further notices. Now, a message to You-Know-Who from our Director of Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones.

Voldemort. I declare you an outlaw of Magical Britain with a bounty of 1 million gallons dead or alive. As of now, consider yourself hunted.

On May 11th, 1995 the British Magical world was at war once again.

So busy was Albus that all concerns outside of the standard Hogwarts and British issues were erased from his mind. Meetings about who was a threat, the methods of how to handle certain things and oddly enough a conversation with the minister about his defense against the dark arts course filled his days. He still remembered the conversation.

"Now Albus, I am certain you can understand our position! We cannot have a weak defense instructor and Alastor is being pulled into semi-active duty once more. So, I ask again. Who will be teaching at Hogwarts next year?" Cornelius asked for the fourth time. Dumbledore merely smiled before looking at his watch and saying," Ah, he should be arriving just about now."

When Nicolas Flamel flooed into the room and asked what the commotion was about, Albus laughed when Cornelius fainted.

He didn't find time to visit Nurmengard for over a month. It didn't cross his mind until after talking to Nicolas anyway. It was a mere comment on Albus shouldn't think of the past when deciding on curriculim that triggered his even as the Supreme Mugwump, he had to go through the legal channels to travel to the prison. Finally, he had managed to be granted access, along with a troop of Security personnel.

They portkeyed into the main hall and several were sick by the stench of decaying blood and bodies. Albus took control of the situation quickly, ordering the twenty wizards.

"Troop! I want teams of three, two with me. Check each wing. The two with me are going to the central tower. Assume all hostiles are active and that there are- there are no survivors." Albus swallowed a mouthful of bile at the thought of no one surviving before gesturing his two Security men to follow.

They walked down dozens of corridors, covered in bodies, their wands ready. Albus knew what he would see when they finally reached the courtyard. The rules that he helped create when this was converted into the prison were extremely clear. It still brought a tear to his eye when he saw the mutilated bodies of the last of the Security Company that protected Nurmengard Prison.

Wading through the 182 bodies towards the tower in the center of the prison was terrible work. Once they finally reached the open door of the tower, they raced up the stairs. Albus noticed the absence of the books on the walls, the equipment of the lab and the magic of the door he personally ensured was locked forever. All of these solidified what he would find in the topmost room.

The door was shattered, its protections gone along with its prisoner. Albus shut his eyes when he saw the empty shackles. This would be a war of two fronts. With a swish of his cloak he left the room where his past once was kept.

AN: This is the technical end of year four. The next chapter will show how summer will look and from there how year five will be.

Now we have been introduced to the overwhelming juggernaut that is Voldemort. Tell me what Y'all think of him.

Until next time,

Zero