A New Player: Year Four: The Gathering Dark

by Faykan

The continuation of the ANP Arcline. Mystery and intrigue follow Harry and his friends as several dark and unsettling events lead up to a dangerous tournament that Harry is forced to become involved with. Meanwhile Albus puts his plan in motion to secure sole dominion over the life of our hero.

17. Chapter 16

And so begins the epic two part finale (although this chapter is probably more intense) of The Gathering Dark! So, in responce to all future questions regarding the contents of Book 5... I say to you... Spoilers ;P... Enjoy...

Chapter Sixteen

Task of Earth

Breakfast was a very noisy affair at the Gryffindor table on the morning of the third task. The post owls appeared, bringing Harry a good-luck card from Sirius. It was only a piece of parchment, folded over and bearing a muddy paw print on its front, but Harry appreciated it all the same. A screech owl arrived for Hermione, carrying her morning copy of the Daily Prophet as usual. She unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page, and spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice all over it.

HARRY POTTER DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS

'The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School.

Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying.

It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potters brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion.

"He might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention."

The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public.

"Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Theodore Nott, a Hogwarts fourth year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."

Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue "as worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers." Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence."

Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening.'

"What?" said Harry, Faykan and Ron together, staring at her. "Nothing," said Hermione quickly, trying to shove the paper out of sight, but Ron grabbed it. He and Faykan stared at the headline and Ron said, "No way. Not today. That old cow."

"What?" said Harry, "Rita Skeeter again?"

"No," said Ron, and just like Hermione, he attempted to push the paper out of sight.

"It's about me, isn't it?" said Harry.

"No," said Ron, in an entirely unconvincing tone. But before Harry could demand to see the paper, Theodore Nott shouted across the Great Hall from the Slytherin table.

"Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"

Nott was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet too. Slytherins up and down the table were sniggering, twisting in their seats to see Harry's reaction.

"Let me see it," Harry said to Ron. "Give it here."

Very reluctantly, Ron handed over the newspaper. Harry turned it over and read the paper in a rather stoic fashion.

"Gone off me a bit hasn't she?" said Harry lightly, folding up the paper after he had read it through.

Over at the Slytherin table, Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle were laughing at Harry, tapping their heads with their fingers, and all in all acting like the children they were.

"How did she know your scar hurt in Divination?" Ron said. "There's no way she was there, there's no way she could've heard…"

"The window was open," said Harry. "I opened it to breathe."

"You were at the top of North Tower!" Hermione said. "Your voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!"

"Well, you're the one who's supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging!" said Harry. "You tell me how she did it!"

"I've been trying!" said Hermione. "But I... but..." and then an idea, a brilliant idea struck her. Harry's use of the word bugging had reminded her of several things at once. Running a hand through her hair, she recalled how Viktor had removed a beetle from her hair right after the Second Task.

"Are you all right?" said Ron, frowning at her.

"Yes," she replied running her hand through her hair again, remembering. She held her hand up to her mouth, like they had seen Nott doing from the Room of Requirement a few days ago. Harry, Ron and Faykan looked at each other, confused. Of course. Of course! "I've had an idea," Hermione said, her mind racing. "I think I know... because then no one would be able to see... even Moody... and she'd have been able to get onto the window ledge... but she's not allowed... she's definitely not allowed... I think we've got her! Just give me two seconds in the library, just to make sure!"

And she dashed off to check the registered Animagi listings in the library.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Harry was about to leave with Faykan and Ron to attend the History of Magic exam. He and Faykan were exempt from the exam itself, so Harry had been using the time to practice the different spells that they had selected. But just as they were standing from the Gryffindor table, Professor McGonagall came walking toward them.

"Potter, Undol, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she said.

"But the Task's not till tonight!" said Harry, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down his front, afraid he had mistaken the time.

"I'm aware of that, Potter," she said. "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them."

"Is this a joke Professor?" Faykan asked, "You know neither of us have families."

"Oh, I think you'll both be pleasantly surprised," she said, moving away back to the teacher's table.

Faykan and Harry looked at each other confused. Who would come to see them? Surely not the Dursleys. Together they dashed across the Hall and through the door into the side chamber. Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. He had inherited his fathers hooked nose. On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand. She waved at Harry, who waved back, grinning. Then he saw Mrs. Weasley and Bill standing in front of the fireplace, beaming at him and Faykan.

"Surprise!" Mrs. Weasley said excitedly as he smiled broadly and walked over to them. "Thought we'd come and watch you two!" She bent down and kissed them both on the cheek.

"You all right?" said Bill, grinning down at them and shaking their hands after his mother released them. "Charlie wanted to come, but he couldn't get time off. He said you were incredible against those dragons."

Fleur Delacour, Harry noticed, was eyeing Bill with great interest over her mother's shoulder. Harry could tell she had no objection whatsoever to long hair or earrings with fangs on them.

"This is really nice of you," Harry muttered to Mrs. Weasley. "I thought for a moment - the Dursleys…"

"Hmm," said Mrs. Weasley, pursing her lips. She had always refrained from criticizing the Dursleys in front of Harry, but her eyes flashed every time they were mentioned.

"It's great being back here," said Bill, "Fancy giving us a refreshment tour?"

"Yeah, okay," said Harry, and together the four of them made their way back into the Great Hall then down to the grounds. They spent the entire morning wandering the sunny ground, showing them the new sights since their days at the school. Mrs. Weasley was intrigued by the Whomping Willow, and was frightened nearly to death when Faykan strolled right up to the vicious tree without receiving so much as a scratch. They finally returned to the castle for lunch, running into Ron and Hermione, which allowed for Harry to clear up the previous article about him and Hermione for Mrs. Weasley, who apologized, highly embarrassed.

By dinner Harry was starting to feel nervous again, and didn't eat much. As evening changed the sky to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now..."

Harry and Faykan got up to the sound of applause all up and down the house tables, except for Slytherin. The Weasleys and Hermione wished them good luck, and they left the Great Hall with Fleur and Viktor.

"Feeling all right, Harry?" Bagman asked as they went down the stone steps onto the grounds. "Confident?"

"I'm okay," said Harry. He was running the hexes and spells that would be of most use inside the maze through his mind as they walked down to the Quidditch field, which was completely unrecognizable. Before they entered the stadium, Harry piped up, an idea striking him, "Mr. Bagman, could I just have a few minutes before the rest of the school arrives?" but before Bagman said a word, Harry snatched Faykan's arm and dragged him into the support structure under the nearest stands.

After they squeezed into a dark corner under the stands where no one could see or disturb them, Harry turned to Faykan, "Fay, please, last time we were interrupted, but I really think it's important that we discuss this."

Faykan looked hesitant, but nodded slowly after swallowing loudly.

Harry took a moment to steady himself to finally ask what he had wanted for nearly half the year, and in those moments his eyes wandered over Faykan, standing rather close to himself between a pair of close supports. The narrow space allowed for very little maneuvering, and the air was slowly warming with their combined breathing.

"So talk Fay," Harry said, a bit more forcefully than he wanted, but right this second he did not care.

"Harry," Faykan began slowly, "You have to understand, I care about you immensely, and I don't know who you've listened to and what you think, but your safety and happiness are the most important things in the world to me. What Nott did, tried to turn all my thoughts into fear of what would happen to you. And even when I was free, those worries and pain continued to poison me, but…"

Harry embraced him, cutting off Faykan's continued explanation, "I know Fay, I know. It's alright. Now I understand, and it's alright."

There they stood for several minutes, embracing each other and letting their emotions bleed out. Harry knew that they were needed back at the maze, but until the rumble of hundreds of feet sounded around them as students poured into the stands above them, "We need to get back to the maze entrance." Faykan said, releasing Harry and stepping back toward the maze. "Let's go…" Harry said, following Faykan back out to the Quidditch field.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Severus watched from near the judges table as Potter and Undol finally rejoined the group of champions near the front of the maze. Bagman was talking with Hagrid, Minerva, Moody and Flitwick, and together they started explaining about how to exit the Tournament if they got into too much trouble.

Severus' eyes wandered over to the two Gryffindors, and he raised an eyebrow as he noticed their robes wrinkled and off center, and as he looked carefully, he also noticed that their faces were stained with some tears. He focused his Legilimency, catching Undol's eye as he scanned the nearby judges table. Undol looked directly at him, and Severus plunged in, seeing the vast amount of fresh calmness at the forefront of the boy's mind, drowning the apprehending and fear for the task, but mingled still with guilt and regret…?

But the boy looked away again, breaking Severus' ability to see into his mind just as Bagman started to address the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each: Mr. Faykan Undol and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School! In second place, with eighty points: Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute! And in third place: Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

The applause and cheers were nearly deafening, and Severus was glad he did not have to sit among the spectators.

Bagman turned to the two Gryffindors, "So… on my whistle, Harry and Faykan! Three… Two… One…"

He gave a short blast on the whistle, and both boys hurried forward into the maze. Several minutes later, Bagman gave another blast, and Krum entered as well. A short time later, the third blast and Miss Delacour joined the three boys in the shadows between the hedges. Severus glanced at Dumbledore, sitting at the judges table, and caught the small grin that was rather unlike his old mentor to have.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Harry had come across nothing thus far into the maze. The final blast of Bagman's whistle had sounded, signaling that all the champions had entered the maze. Glancing at his watch, a gift from Draco the previous year, he muttered, "Point me!" and a small beam of light pointed toward his right, into solid hedge. He knew the cup was somewhere northwest of him, so all he could do was take the left fork of the pair ahead of him and hope he could go right sometime soon.

The path ahead of him was empty of challenges as well, and the continued lack of obstacles was starting to unnerve Harry. Surely he should have met something by now? It felt as though the maze were luring him into a false sense of security. Then he heard movement right behind him. He held out his wand, ready to attack, but raised it again as Faykan stumbled out of a right hand path, looking slightly shaken. His robes were smoldering slightly.

"Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts!" he said, shooting water out of his wand to stop his robes from burning. "They're enormous!" Harry shook his head and continued down the way he was heading. He turned a corner and saw a dementor gliding toward him, scabbed arm out and a cruel dagger raised, ready to plunge it into his chest. Harry wasted no time summoning a powerful memory and cried, "Expecto Patronum!"

A silver stag erupted from the end of Harry's wand and galloped toward the dementor, which fell back and tripped over the hem of its robes... Harry had never seen a dementor stumble.

"Hang on!" he shouted, advancing in the wake of his silver Patronus, "You're a boggart! Riddikulus!"

There was a loud crack, and the shape-shifter exploded in a wisp of smoke. The silver stag faded from sight. Harry wished it could have stayed, he could have used some company... but he moved on, quickly and quietly as possible, listening hard, his wand held high once more.

After several agonizing minutes, and another obstacle that inverted the world until Harry tried to move again, Harry heard a scream shatter the silence. It was clearly Fleur. Harry paused, listening for where the sound had come from, but couldn't orient himself to it. He had to press on, but couldn't shake the feeling of 'One champion down…'

He met nothing for ten minutes, but kept running into dead ends. Twice he took the same wrong turning. Finally, he found a new route and started to jog along it, his wandlight waving, making his shadow flicker and distort on the hedge walls.

Then he rounded another corner and found himself facing a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Faykan was right, it was enormous. Ten feet long, it looked more like a giant scorpion than anything. Its long sting was curled over its back. Its thick armor glinted in the light from Harry's wand, which he pointed at it.

"Stupefy!"

The stunner reflected off the skrewt's armor, blasting into the hedges. The skrewt blasted toward him several yards as its end exploded. Harry attempted the Impediment Jinx, but that bounced off the skrewt as well. Harry stumbled slightly as he retreated several steps from the advancing skrewt, and spotted that the underside of the skrewt was not armored. He blasted it with a stunner, and the beast fell over unconscious.

Several twists and turns later, referencing his multipurpose watch to judge every fork, Harry was heading northwest when he heard something in the path parallel to his own that made him stop dead.

"What is wrong with you?" Faykan was yelling, "Don't point that at me!"

And then Harry heard Krum's voice.

"Crucio!"

"Tinechor!" [1]

The air was suddenly full of shouts and spells. Horrified, Harry began sprinting up his path, trying to find a way into the one containing the two duelers. The hedge was solid. Harry back away several steps and aimed his wand, "Confringo!" the hedge exploded, burning a massive hole in the foliage. Harry dived through to find Krum bombarding Faykan's silvery shield with spell after spell.

"Stupefy!" Harry yelled.

The spell hit Krum in the back; he was blasted forward, and lay motionless on his face. Faykan relaxed, and his shield wavered and died as he lowered his wand, "Thanks Harry."

"You alright?" Harry said as Faykan stepped around Krum over to him.

"Yeah," Faykan said, breathing heavily from the effort of maintaining the shield, "he didn't hit me with anything."

"Harry, did you hear Fleur scream earlier?" Faykan said. "Yeah," Harry replied, knowing what he was thinking. They were the remaining champions. "Why don't we just work together? It would be a Hogwarts victory regardless. Safest thing to do I think." Faykan suggested.

Harry nodded as he raised his wand to send red sparks into the air for Krum. Together he and Faykan made their way further into the maze, using the Four-Point spell in Harry's watch to lead their direction. Then, as they strode down along a straight path, Harry saw movement. He caught Faykan's arm and aimed his wand. The light fell upon an extraordinary creature he had seen in the Monster Book of Monsters.

"A sphinx…" Faykan breathed, approaching the pacing creature. She spoke in a deep hoarse voice as he approached. "You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me."

"And to pass we must answer your riddle." Faykan said, and the sphinx nodded. "Let us hear it," Faykan said.

The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very middle of the path, and recited:

'It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,
cannot be heard, cannot be smelt.

It lies behind stars and under hills,
and empty holes it fills.

It comes first and follows after,
ends life, kills laughter.'

Faykan thought for a moment, and said smugly, "The dark."

The sphinx smiled happily at them both. She got up, stretched her front legs, and moved aside for them to pass. Faykan bowed to her, and ushered Harry past, and then he turned back to the sphinx, "a riddle for a riddle." He said and the sphinx brightened as he recited to her:

'This thing all things devours
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers

Gnaws iron, bites steel,
Grinds hard stones to meal,

Slays king, ruins town,
And beats high mountain down!'

The sphinx closed her eyes, contemplating the riddle, then finally purred, "Time… Time is the answer."

Faykan bowed to her again, "Indeed…" and he turned to leave with Harry. They had to be close Harry thought, his watch was pointing dead ahead. It should be too much longer. They broke into a run, coming to a choice of paths and taking the rightmost one. There was light ahead. The Triwizard Cup gleamed on a plinth a hundred yards away. They ran toward it, and Harry noticed the shadows around them deepening. Fifty yards and the only means of seeing was their wandlight. Twenty-five yards and they started to stumble over each other. Suddenly something grabbed Harry's leg, and the limb exploded with cold pain. "Faykan!"

"I know, I know!" He replied, struggling with whatever was attacking him.

"Just need to reach my wand… Kalian en' Valinor!" [2]

Light flared around them again, banishing the darkness in a small space around them. Harry stepped closer to Faykan, there were things moving in the shadows around them. The creatures did not approach them in their bubble of light as they neared the cup. "You ready Harry?" Faykan said, reaching one hand to grasp the cup. "On three, right?" said Harry. "One… two… three…"

He and Faykan both grasped a handle.

Instantly, Harry felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground. He could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling him onward in a howl of wind and swirling color, Faykan at his side. They landed hard, and the Triwizard Cup went flying out of their hands. Faykan leaped to his feet instantly, wand aloft and staring around them. Harry climbed to his feet as well. 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.

Faykan looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry.

"Portkey," he said simply. He whipped around suddenly, aiming his wand, "Someone's coming…"

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.

Faykan was lying next to him, his eyes open and alert, having dived to avoid the Killing Curse. He purposely lay motionless, feigning that he had been hit, as the figure approached. The short figured hauled Harry to his feet and dragged him toward a marble headstone. Harry saw the name upon it flickering in the wandlight before he was forced around and slammed against it.

TOM RIDDLE

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 was already moving back toward the bundle of robes that was lying close by where Faykan had 'fallen'.

"Hurry!" the high cold voice yelled again.

Wormtail conjured a cauldron out of nowhere, stone and huge, large enough for a man to sit in. The cauldron was filled with water that sparked and flashed.

"It is ready Master." Wormtail said in a distant voice.

"Now…" said the cold voice.

Wormtail lifted the robes into his arms again, stepping back to the cauldron. Harry saw Faykan change into the large black fox and dart behind a tombstone. But then the sight when Wormtail dumped the thing inside the robes into the cauldron took all of Harry's attention. It could have been a crouched human child, but hairless and scaly-looking. Its limbs were thin and very feeble looking, with gleaming red eyes. When it hit the water there was a splash, a hiss, and the ugly thing vanished below the surface.

And Wormtail was speaking again. 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. 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 could do nothing to prevent it; he was tied too tightly... Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtail's remaining hand. 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 frothed and surged, evaporating in a black mist. It revealed a man, tall and naked as the child form had been, floating in midair as he stretched himself out to stand upon the grass. The darkness swirled to form a flowing black robe around him.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

He had done it. His plan had come to fruition. He lived again. Lord Voldemort had returned. Feeling his new face, Voldemort turned to stare into the terrified face of the boy who had dared to banish him from the physical realm. Ah, to feel again, the sensation he had gone so long without, it was pure pleasure to have it return. His magic swirled around him, feeling out the graveyard around them. They were not alone, but it mattered not. The child Wormtail had failed to kill was no match for him, the Dark Lord. No one, not even Albus Dumbledore could stop him now.

Looking at the terrified boy tied down upon the tomb of his father, the father he had murdered, Voldemort laughed, glee and triumph sounding in his cold voice.

"My Lord…" Wormtail choked, groveling at his feet, where he belonged, "you promised…"

He had, Lord Voldemort had promised him a replacement for the arm he had required, but not at this moment. "Hold out your arm," he said lazily, relishing the sound of a voice returned to full strength and focus.

Wormtail extended his bleeding stump, and Voldemort laughed at his selfishness, "The other arm, Wormtail." Yes, he would forevermore use this name, the name his friends had given him, the friends he had betrayed. The coward quivered in agony again, and Voldemort rolled his eyes, bent down, and revealed the Dark Mark himself.

It was there, red and swollen upon his skin. Excitement filled Voldemort as he caressed the Mark he had placed upon the faithful of old. Soon it would burn black upon all those who had pledged themselves to him, and those free would come. They would come, or be killed. Lord Voldemort kept his promises, and that was the first he made to any new Death Eater. That they would die if they attempted to betray his service.

"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. Both Potter and Wormtail screamed. The mark upon the coward's arm burned black again, sending the signal out to all who served the Dark Lord. Voldemort smiled, he enjoyed causing pain to those who displeased him, and Potter's pain was just an added bonus, thanks to that scar he himself had given to the boy.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he asked himself as he watched the sky. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

He paced, getting used to the act of moving under his own power again, his eyes trying to pinpoint the boy that was spying upon their little gathering, somewhere among the gravestones. Lord Voldemort knew he was there, but he could not see him. After adjusting to his returned height and balance, he finally turned to Potter, taunting his foolishness and explaining the utter failure of Albus Dumbledore to protect him. It would not matter what he knew, Lord Voldemort would kill him and the boy who had come with him soon enough.

Finally, the air sounded with the swishing of cloaks as the Death Eaters arrived by silent apparition. One by one they approached, on their knees, to kiss the hem of their Lord's robe, forming the circle he had set them in when they were first initiated. Voldemort sniffed, guilt permeated the air as he addressed his 'true' family.

Avery darted forward to beg forgiveness, and Voldemort laughed, the irony of their situation always made him pleased. "Crucio!" he cried, torturing the pathetic pureblood. Finally he set his demands, thirteen years of penance for their failure, thirteen more years upon the lifetime of servitude they had already pledged.

That brought his attention back to Wormtail. Waving his wand, he conjured a silver hand, strong and powerful, but with a special trap for his little rat. Of the traitor tried to turn upon his Lord, in any way, his own hand would be his demise. Of course, no one needed to know this, as the hand attached itself to Wormtail's bleeding stump.

Finally, Voldemort circled the Death Eaters, tallying who was still among them, Lucius, his powerful left hand and ever slippery snake. The LeStranges were still entombed in Azkaban, how he longed to free them, Bellatrix was always ready to do her Lord's will. The Carrows, Macnair, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Yaxley; all free and ready to serve him once again. He had heard rumors from Wormtail that Nott's son was nearly ready to become one of them, this pleased Voldemort, a new pawn in his war against Dumbledore was always welcome. Finally he reached the largest gap of missing Death Eaters, six in all. Evan Rosier and two others, dead in his service, a pity, he had always liked Evan's ability to create new methods of torment. Igor Karkaroff, who had betrayed many of his fellows, would die. Barty Crouch Jr., in Hogwarts and responsible for his resurrection, he would be rewarded, and finally Severus Snape, his wild card. Under Dumbledore's thumb when he lost his body, Voldemort did not know if he still served their cause. He would find out soon, if Snape didn't come within three days.

Finally, Voldemort turned back to Potter again, saying that he had almost forgotten him, which was a lie. How could he forget the infuriating boy who had caused him so many years of struggle and frustration? He explained calmly to his Death Eaters of how the boy had indeed survived, and what had happened to him that Halloween night. He tormented the boy with the Cruciatus curse and by piercing the blood wards on him, relishing the pain on the little face. Finally, he commanded Wormtail to release the boy and return him his wand. He would have some fun, to draw out the other boy, and finally kill them both.

"You have been taught how to duel Harry Potter?" Voldemort asked softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness.

In response the boy took up a defensive stance, wand raised. Impressive, Voldemort mused; he had not expected Hogwarts to have managed to employ a decent Defense teacher for years yet. However it was of little use. They boy was facing immanent death now.

"We first bow to each other. Harry," Voldemort chided, bending a little, but keeping his face upturned to Potter. "Come, the niceties must be observed... Dumbledore would like you to show manners... Bow to death, Harry..."

But the boy refused, so Voldemort forced him with the sheer power of his magic. The Death Eaters laughed, drinking in the smell of their Lord's aura.

"Very good," Voldemort said, releasing the boy to face down his end, "And now you face me, like a man... straight-backed and proud, the way your father died... And now, we duel!"

"Crucio!"

The boy screamed, writhing on the ground like the insect he was. Mercifully, Lord Voldemort removed the curse. "A little break," he said, sensing the other boy stirring in anger, "a little pause… that hurt, didn't it Harry? You don't want be to do that again do you?"

Potter refused to answer. "I asked you whether you want me to do that again, answer me! Impero!" Voldemort reeled when a second presence in the boy's mind took the brunt of his assault. "You cannot command us… He is mine, and no others! Begone!" and suddenly Voldemort was thrust from the boy's mind. "You insolent little…" he fired the Cruciatus again, but the cowardly child dived behind a tombstone.

"DON'T TURN YOUR BACK ON ME HARRY POTTER!" Voldemort yelled as his curse blew stone from the grave, "I WANT YOU TO LOOK AT ME WHEN I KILL YOU! I WANT TO SEE THE LIFE LEAVE YOUR EYES!"

"You cannot have him!" came a new voice and a blast of magic the blew several of his servants aside, opening a channel between the Dark Lord and his new plaything. Voldemort turned calmly to see the boy Wormtail had failed to kill standing, wand over his head and eyes blazing with power. Voldemort could sense new strength rising in this boy. He might even prove a slight challenge. "Harry, Now!" Potter emerged from his hiding place, firing spells Voldemort would never have guessed that Albus would allow them to learn. The powerful boy struck at the same time, fire and light flying at Voldemort and the Death Eaters, driving them back, allowing the two boys to reach each other.

"Kill the boy, stun Potter!"

The Death Eater surged forward behind him, stunners flying at the two boys. The powerful one conjured a force field of silver-blue energy, which absorbed and reflected everything sent its way, while Potter sent curses and hexes right back at them. Voldemort scowled, this was not how it was supposed to turn out. He fired his own spells, severing and bone-crushing hexes, as well as the Cruciatus curse. The shield buckled under the weight of the Dark Lord's magic. A cutting hex sailed broke through a weakness in the shield and tore Potter's leg, as well a bone breaker moments later striking the other boy's right arm. It hung loosely at his side now as he attacked, dropping the shield just as Potter brought his own up, gold and emerald.

"ehta en' naur!" the boy cried, and a shaft of fire spouted forth, striking a hastily raised shield of Nott's. The boy then spun his wand in an arc, and the fiery spear became a flowing wave, diving and twisting around their heads. The two boys began to edge backward, trying to escape the wards Wormtail had set before their prey had arrived.

"Stop them!" Voldemort cried. He wanted them dead, now. If he was not in such a rage, he would have been impressed with their skill, but he was focused now, searching for a flaw in their movements. The boys' shields were strong, but they worked off their own life-force and will. Soon they would tire and the shields would weaken. The boys switched again, and Potter was attacking, sending fire and blasting curses at them. "Harry, run for the Cup, I'll hold them off!" the boy cried, and his shield grew, swirling outward from his wand tip… and there it was. As Potter ran, Voldemort and all his death eaters raised their wands in unison, "Avada Kedavra!" the ten of them cried, and the green jets of light struck the boy's shield, and Voldemort's struck the weak point itself, the uncovered wand tip, right where the shield began. The wand exploded, rocketing the boy backward into Potter, just as the shield overloaded and shattered. Potter was reaching for something, the Triwizard Cup! Voldemort bellowed in rage as the two boys vanished from sight.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Harry felt himself slam into the ground, Faykan's full weight on top of him. A torrent of sound deafened and confused him. He tried to move, but Faykan wouldn't get off of him. "Faykan move!" he said, shoving the boy off of him. Faykan was cold as ice. As Harry's eyes focused, he saw Faykan, wide eyed and staring, lying on the ground, his left arm mangled and bleeding, his right hanging limply from the bone crushing curse from Voldemort. Harry's gasped as he saw his friend wasn't breathing.

Faykan was dead…

[1] Tinechor : Shield

[2] kalian en' Valinor : Light of Valinor

[3] ehta en' naur : spear of fire

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