Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry and Bree.

"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.

"No, but I feel like they should have." Bree replied. Stupid letter writer.

"Is this supposed to be part of the task?" Harry asked.

"I dunno," said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

They pulled out their wands.

"Someone's coming," Harry said suddenly.

Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward them between the graves. They couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, they 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. The thing in the persons 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, Cedric, Bree and the short figure simply looked at one another.

And then, without warning, Harry's wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled and he was on the ground.

A high, cold voice say, "Kill the spares."

"HIT THE DECK!" Bree cried out as she tackled Cedric to the ground. The killing curse sailed over them. Bree scrambled for the cover of the nearby headstones, pulling Cedric with her.

They hid behind a large stone angel. Bree double-checked to make sure it wasn't a weeping angel. It wasn't. Still pretty creepy though. Bree and Cedric looked backed and saw that the short man in the cloak had put down his bundle, lit his wand, and was dragged Harry toward a marble headstone then he slammed Harry against it.

The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Harry, tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. And Harry seemed to realize who was under the hood.

"You!" he gasped.

But the man, who Bree couldn't see from where she was, had finished conjuring the ropes and did not reply; he was busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, rumbling over the knots. Once sure that Harry was bound so tightly to the headstone that he couldn't move an inch, he 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.

"What do we do?" Bree asked in a harsh whisper.

"I don't know. This…" Cedric hesitated. "This isn't a part of the tournament. That man was really trying to kill us."

"But not Harry. He must need Harry." Bree replied. She bit her lip, thinking things over.

Whatever was in the bundle of robes seemed to be stirring fretfully. A gigantic snake was slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where Harry was tied. The man was pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave. It was full of what seemed to be water.

It was larger than any cauldron seen had ever seen; 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.

"The cup might take us back. We could go get it and then get help, but we'd have to leave Harry behind." Bree finally stated. Cedric shook his head.

"We're not leaving him." he declared firmly.

"Harry dropped his wand. I'm going to get it. Cover me." Bree said. She was back on open ground before Cedric could object. She moved slowly toward Harry's wand, so that she wouldn't draw attention to herself. Cedric was watching apprehensively.

Now the man was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly there were crackling flames 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 sparks, as though it were on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of the man tending the fire. The movements beneath the robes became more agitated, and Bree heard the high, cold voice again.

"Hurry!"

Bree grabbed Harry's wand and quickly rushed back to her previous position behind the stone angel.

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.

The man 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 the man had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing the man had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that there had never been 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 the man's neck, and he lifted it. As he did so, his hood fell back, and Bree saw that the man was Wormtail with a look of revulsion on his weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron. And then Wormtail lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface.

Bree forced Cedric to take Harry's wand. "We're going to split up. I'm going to distract Wormtail and you're going to get Harry. The you're going to get Harry and get out of here. No matter what happens you have to get out of here." she ordered.

"What about you?" Cedric asked.

"Don't worry about me, just get Harry." Bree said. The two spilt up. Cedric would go around one side and Bree would go around the other.

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, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. 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.

Wormtail cut off his hand and screamed. The hand fell into the caldron a sickening splash. The potion had turned a burning red. Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. He moved toward Harry.

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

Harry could do nothing to prevent it, he was tied too tightly. The shining silver dagger was shaking in Wormtail's remaining hand. It penetrated the crook of Harry's right arm and blood seeped 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…

And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead. Through the mist the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rose 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.

Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cats, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness.

He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry again, hissing. Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying.

Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

Wormtail's 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," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh Master… thank you, Master…"

He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again.

"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, there was 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…"

Wormtail let out a fresh howl. Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's mark. It had turned jet black.

"Obscuro!" Bree shouted. The spell hit Voldemort blinding him. Chaos erupted. Cedric rushed forward to free Harry. Bree followed up with a "Depulso!" knocking Voldemort back, and then a "Confringo!" which missed its mark and hit the ground. The resulting explosion knocked Wormtail off his feet. Harry was free, and Cedric was pulling toward the cup. Voldemort had regained his vision. He snarled in rage.

"Crucio!"

It was pain beyond anything Bree had ever experienced. Her very bones were on fire and it felt like her blood wad boiling in her veins. Someone was screaming. Bree realized that it was her. It ended, and Bree found herself on her hands and knees. She clutched her wand.

"Iratus lacertae hic oppugno" she muttered. Dozens of angry lizards surged forth and began attacking Voldemort and Wormtail. Harry and Cedric were almost at the cup. Harry was struggling to get to Bree.

"We can't just leave her here!" he shouted.

"You can and you will!" Bree tried to yell, but it came out in a harsh whisper. Harry was desperate not to leave Bree behind and he did a very desperate thing.

"Accio Bree!" he yelled. Bree's eyes widened as she felt something pull her entire body forward at high speed. She crashed into Harry and Cedric just as Cedric grabbed the cup, and suddenly they were speeding away in a whirl of wind and color. They were going back.


Bree felt herself slam flat into the ground. Her face was pressed into grass; the smell of it filled her nostrils. She had closed his eyes while the Portkey transported her, and she kept them closed now. She did not move. All the breath seemed to have been knocked out of her. Her head was swimming so badly he felt as though the ground beneath her were swaying like the deck of a ship. Shock and exhaustion kept her on the ground, breathing in the smell of the grass.

The crowd was panicked and confused. Someone grabbed Bree and rolled her over. She opened her eyes and found herself looking at Cedric. Harry was sitting and the ground nearby.

"Are you alright?" Cedric asked.

"Why would you ask me that?" Bree hissed.

"Sorry." Cedric said. Suddenly, he was pulled away and the Doctor took his place.

"Is she okay?" Bree heard a voice ask.

"Yes Rory. I'm fine. I'm just laying on the ground in obvious pain because it's fun!" Bree snapped.

"Sorry." Rory replied.

"What happened?" the Doctor asked.

"He's back. Voldemort's back." Bree whispered so that only the he could her. "He crucio'd me." she added.

The Doctor picked Bree up and took her to the hospital wing.

"We have to go back." Bree stated.

"You need medical treatment, you can't go back there right now." the Doctor said.

"Not what I meant." Bree muttered. "You have a time machine. Not "back" as in "back there." "Back" as in "back." I got a letter from my future self, so now I need to go back and send a letter to myself."

"Ah. We'll go as soon as you're better." the Doctor replied.


It turned out that Mad-Eye Moody was really Barty Crouch Jr., having imprisoned Moody in his own truck and assumed his appearance using polyjuice potion. Everyone had thought Crouch Jr. was dead. Turned out that he and his mother had switched places using polyjuice and his mother had died in Azkaban while Jr. spent his days under the Imperius curse and an invisibility cloak. It had been Barty who confounded the Goblet and turned the cup into a portkey in a plot to restore Voldemort.

After interrogating Bart Crouch Jr., Dumbledore came to the hospital wing to ask the champions what had happened. Bree let Cedric and Harry do the talking. By the end of it Cedric's mother was holding him tightly, Mrs. Weasley was in tears and leaning heavily on Bill, and Bree was holding the Doctor's hand tightly.

Madam Pomfrey gave all three champions dreamless sleep potions and they soon drifted off.


Bree woke up, so warm, so very sleepy, that she didn't open her eyes, wanting to drop off again. The room was still dimly lit; she was sure it was still nighttime and had a feeling that she couldn't have been asleep very long.

Then she heard whispering around him.

"They'll wake them if they don't shut up!"

"What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?"

Bree opened her eyes blearily. She could see the fuzzy outlines of Amy, Rory, and the Doctor. Ben had left to report to Lisa and Vince.

People were shouting and running toward the hospital wing.

"Safe!" A woman was shouting. "A deadly tournament with an age limit and you let children below the age limit compete!"

"There were unforeseen complications." Fudge's voice protested.

Bree sat up unnoticed by any of the people around his bed, all of whom were staring at the door as Rory pulled back the screens. Everyone else was looking out of the curtained off areas of their respective champion.

"You call a Death Eater's plot an "unforeseen complication!" You should have postponed the tournament and conducted an investigation!"

Bree grinned, she recognized the woman's voice. The door burst open and a woman walked in. She was 5" 6', had long dark hair, chocolate brown eyes, high cheeks bones, and lips painted dark red. She was stunningly beautiful, despite her laugh lines. She was wearing a black shirt dress, belt, and heels. Vince, Otto, and Ben came in behind her, closely followed by Minister Fudge and Professor Snape.

The woman rushed over to Bree's side and began fawning over her.

"Hello Aunt Lisa." Bree greeted as Lisa gave her a squeeze. Aunt Lisa had no daughters and no nieces on her side of the family and Bree was the youngest of the Smiths that were closely related to Vince. This made Bree the baby of the immediate family and Lisa had loved to dress her up when she was little. Add there similar personalities into the mix and you have two people that got along like a house on fire.

"Oh what did they do to you?" Lisa fussed, checking Bree over for injuries.

"I'm fine now Aunt Lisa." Bree protested. Lisa petted Bree's hair before turning on the rest of the room.

"Where's Dumbledore?" she demanded.

"He's not here," said Mrs. Weasley angrily. "This is a hospital wing. Don't you think you'd do better to -"

But the door opened, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.

"What has happened?" said Dumbledore sharply, looking at all the new people present. "Why are you disturbing-" he was cut off.

"Shut up you bloody old coot! This is your fault!" Lisa shouted. Vince had moved over to Bree's side.

"Vince told us everything." he whispered.

"You are a failure as a Headmaster, and as a human being. In my nieces first year, you had a Cerberus, a possessed supporter of Voldemort, and bait for the wandering spirit of Voldemort that you left protected by traps that three eleven year olds were able to get past easily. Second year: A basilisk was petrifying students, and who stopped it? A twelve year old. Third Year: Suspected mass murderer escapes Azkaban. He gets into the school twice. What would have happened if he really was the sociopath everyone thought he was? And then theirs this year. The government reinstates a previously banned tournament. The competitors are to be chosen from three schools and they all have to be over seventeen. Five students from five different schools were chosen, two of which were under seventeen and you and your bloody Ministry go "Hmm that's odd, but oh well. The Goblet chose them and even though they haven't learned as much as the others, I'm sure they won't die, the tournament is safer now right?" when you should have stopped the tournament and investigated to make sure it wasn't the plot of a dark wizard. If you had that poor boy wouldn't have had his blood taken for a dark ritual and my niece wouldn't have been subjected to an unforgivable! And then this moron" Lisa pointed at Fudge. "brings a Dementor with him. You know, the dark creature that feeds off of happy memories and makes you relive the bad ones when there are three children who have just gone through the worst day of their lives and have no desire to relive those memories." Lisa finished ranting while Otto stood behind her looking imposing.

"What kind of new wards are on the school, Dumbledore? The dementor wouldn't move past the entrance hall." Fudge stated.

Bree glanced at the Doctor. According to sphinx in the maze there were magical creatures that knew about the Doctor, if the dementor had sensed the Doctor in the castle…

"Don't change the subject you bloody scum sucking wanker!" Lisa shouted.

"Aunt Lisa." Bree interjected. "Perhaps you could go yell at Dumbledork and the Minister of Morons elsewhere. My friends and I have had a rather trying day and would like to rest."

"Yes, of course dear." Lisa soothed, then led the way out of the hospital wing.

The Minister, Dumbledore, Snape, Vince, Otto, and Ben had followed Lisa out.


By the next day Fudge had called Cedric, Harry, and Bree liars and refused to believe that Voldemort had come back, Vince and Lisa had left because they couldn't stay away from their business for to long (Which really meant that they were going to get ready of the inevitable clash between the light and the dark), and Dumbledore was starting to prepare his forces, which meant that Bree would soon have to start recruiting her housemates for what she referred to as "The Third Option." Which meant shaking their faith in Dumbledore.


Percy Weasley was writing a letter to the Ministry of Magic when he heard a strange sound behind him. He turned around and saw a blue police box materializing. The door opened and Bree stepped out. She grinned at him.

"Hello Percy. Time for us to go on a little trip." she said.


It seems to me that wild and crazy trip with the Doctor is just what Percy needs and there's this one episode of Doctor Who that I really want to introduce Bree's brand of crazy to.

By the way, my Birthday is on the 25th. For my birthday I would like some reviews please. Lot's and lot's of reviews.