Fleur hit the ground hard, landing directly on her back, knocking the wind out of her and partially stunning her. Traveling via portkey always made her feel rather disoriented afterwards, but she usually landed more gracefully or at least on her feet. However this was a particularly unpleasant experience. The magic that had been used to add the detour to the graveyard was poorly done, so the trip had been more nauseating than usual and they had a particularly rough landing at the end.
She rolled over onto her side and coughed hard as she opened her eyes. Her vision was swimming with dark spots and she was having difficulty focusing. She attempted to get to her feet but fell over weakly, her head still throbbing and disoriented from her impact with the hard ground, but she managed to get onto her hands and knees. She needed to find a place to hide and quickly. She could worry about finding Harry and the Cup once she was in a good position.
She tried to get a read on her surroundings but it was fairly dark, the moon was the only source of light illuminating the foreign landscape. She saw grassy hills and a huge mansion in the distance, sitting on the tallest hill. White and grey tombstones littered some of the smaller hills nearby. Unfortunately there was no foliage where she had landed and nothing to duck behind. When she turned around to look in the other direction, cold fear flooded her veins and she froze in place.
20 feet in front of her stood four Death Eaters, each was wearing plain black robes and silver masks. They were all standing in a half circle around a huge cauldron that was bubbling over an open fire. Smoke was rising from the cauldron, putting off an acrid, metallic smell that made her want to gag.
Harry was being held in place with a sort of body binding hex by the tallest Death Eater, suspended several feet in the air. She could see that he was struggling against the spell but seemed to be held firmly in place.
They hadn't noticed her at first it seemed they were focused on whatever they were doing around the cauldron but once she started moving around they all turned to face her and raised their wands in her direction. Smooth, way to give yourself away, Fleur. She chastised herself, readying herself for a fight.
One of the other Death Eaters raised their wand and pointed directly at her chest "Avada…"
"No, Crabbe! She is the one she wants!" A raspy voice croaked weakly from her left side.
What? Me? Who wants me? Fleur thought as she whipped her head around in the direction of the voice. She was gripping her wand tightly but knew there was nothing she could do at this moment. She was outnumbered and they had Harry.
She saw a squat little man with thin greasy hair was approaching her and she instinctively took a step back. He had beady black eyes and a sickly hue to his filthy skin. His over-sized front teeth protruded slightly downward out of his mouth. He reminded her of a beaver. No, not a beaver. A rat.
In his arms he carried a small body, its gangly limbs hanging limply to its side. 'Body' was a generous assessment of the creature's condition. It looked weak and extremely malnourished, more like a skeleton with saggy grey skin covering it than a living, breathing thing. Fleur felt bile rising in her throat as she realized she was looking at the mangled and twisted form of Voldemort.
"No harm comes to the Veela. Not by our hand. Once Bellatrix arrives she can do whatever she wants with the creature." Voldemort croaked.
The Death Eaters all chuckled wickedly as if sharing in a private joke.
"McNair, hold her." The Dark Lord commanded and Fleur felt the spell bind her body from the shoulders down. It felt like being stuffed in a sack, holding her arms and legs in place. Her wand was now pointing uselessly at the ground. But she still had control of her head at least, which was better than nothing. Despite the dread twisting in her stomach, her nostrils flared angrily as she stared defiantly at Voldemort. Her icy blue eyes flashing dangerously to red and back again.
"Mmm… Crouch was right" Voldemort observed her from his position, having to pause every few words to take a few labored breaths. "This one has a fire to her. Strong, too. It's almost a shame to lose such a spirited young soul. Too bad her blood is tainted with filth otherwise I might have felt compelled to intervene with dear Bella's plans."
As if on cue, a high pitched, maniacal cackle and a cruel voice rang out loud and clear and everyone who could turned to look in the direction of the sound. "Oh, Master, but you promised me a little pet as my reward…"
Rage flooded Fleur's veins, remembering the horrors her mate had suffered at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. Her Veela was threatening to take control wanting to avenge her one, but Fleur fought to keep control. She needed to stay calm. This had already gone sideways in ways they hadn't anticipated. She needed to think clearly to come up with a plan.
Bellatrix was standing on top of the giant stone statue of the winged angel of Death that stood guard over the Riddle mausoleum. She was precariously balanced on the top of the statue's head, her arms were outstretched and she was swaying dangerously from side to side. It looked like she was about to fall but Fleur knew it was an act to add shock value. Or maybe she really was that completely deranged. Regardless of her reasons or lack thereof, the woman was actually in complete control, demonstrated when she stepped forward off the statue and fell slowly to the ground. She landed as gracefully and nimbly as a ballerina.
Unlike the other Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange wore no mask. She displayed her face proudly. She was also wearing black Death Eater robes and her black curls stuck out wildly in all directions. Her dark eyes were boring holes into Fleur as she slowly approached the French Champion, swaying her hips as she walked. She looked completely unhinged and feral. Everything about the slow, deliberate movements was meant to intimidate and fill her with anxiety. She was calculated but also unpredictable and that made her so dangerous. You never knew what side you were dealing with, and even if you did, she could switch without warning.
Fleur would not give in and she returned the piercing gaze with a glare of her own. It made her skin crawl when she felt Bellatrix's hand come to rest on her shoulder. The cruel fingers danced along her back as the deranged witch walked in a half-circle behind her. She could feel those cold eyes looking her up and down, as if appraising a prized horse.
While Bellatrix was circling her like a hungry wolf, she could see that the other two Death Eaters that were not currently holding her and Harry in place had started moving around the cauldron, throwing in various ingredients. She didn't have time to see much else, as Bellatrix came back into her line of sight, suddenly uncomfortably close to her face.
The dark haired witch took a few steps back to get a good look at Fleur from the front before moving into her personal space again, standing on her tiptoes and tilting her head to the side so she whispered directly into her ear. She was so close that her lips ghosted the shell of her ear, causing her to shudder involuntarily out of disgust. "Ahhhh, even prettier in person. The pictures in the papers really don't do you justice, dearie."
Bellatrix dropped back down to standing flat and took a step back from the blonde "We were going to make you join us, but I think you and I are going to have a lot more fun this way, my little bird. I'm glad to see that you showed up tonight. I didn't believe Crouch when he told me he thought you two would try to split the win… I was more than prepared to track you down after this… You saved me quite a bit of trouble."
"But… You're supposed to be in Azkaban…" Fleur seethed through clenched teeth.
"You're supposed to be in Azkaban…" Bellatrix singsonged mockingly "Managed a little jailbreak, didn't I? Crouch was able to get some of the Dementors to join our side and then it was just too easy… Was a bit of a mess to keep out of the papers, but then again, that oaf of a Minister is very good at covering up things he doesn't want to admit. Easier to sweep it under the rug than to admit he made a teensy-weensy mistake or that he isn't in full control of things." The dark witch ran her long fingernail across her cheek, pressing down as she did. Not enough to break the skin and make her bleed but enough to leave an angry red streak on her pale skin.
"Don't touch her!" Harry snarled through gritted teeth, still clearly struggling against the hex holding him in place. Fleur was surprised he was able to talk at all.
Bellatrix looked over at him and giggled, acting as if she was noticing his presence for the first time. Her lips curled into a twisted smirk and slowly made her way over to where he was being held in place. She cooed in a sweetly condescending tone like talking to an infant. "Oh… if it isn't wittle itty bitty baby Potter twying to be all bwave…"
She looked him up and down, her smirk falling and her expression turning cold and unreadable once more, her voice returned to normal, a hint of disappointment lacing her words. "Hmph. You're smaller than I thought you would be. No matter, you'll still serve your purpose. And when we're ready to strike, the first person I will go after is your filthy little Mudblood. Maybe we'll even keep you alive long enough so that you'll get first row seats to watch. Then again, maybe not."
Fleur's blood froze in her veins when she heard that.
"Why?" Harry forced out, his green eyes flashing angrily. Fleur could have sworn she saw his hand twitch.
"Why not? Torturing her is going to be so much fun. I can just see it now." Bellatrix's eyes glinted wickedly. Her gaze became distant for a moment as she started imagining all the things she was planning to do to Hermione in the future.
Fleur's Veela was thrashing wildly but Fleur kept her at bay.
"We want to make a little example of her. So everyone can see the fate that awaits all Mudbloods polluting our world. And you will die knowing what is to come and there is nothing you can do to stop it. It's rather poetic, actually. The first victim of the Dark Lord after his glorious return being none other than Harry Potter's…" Bellatrix spat on the ground after she said his name "...filthy, little magic-stealing bitch. Don't you fret, your little Muddy will get what's coming to her in the end."
"Enough games, Bellatrix… the time for the ritual is nigh." One of the Death Eaters spoke in a bored drawl. Long platinum locks hung out from under his hood, cascading onto his chest.
"I'm just having a little fun, Malfoy." Bellatrix sneered. "I've got a few years to make up for after all… couldn't do much in Azkaban could I?"
"You can have all your fun in due time."
Bellatrix turned to look at Fleur, licking her lips hungrily. "Right you are. Stay right there, my little bird. This will be over soon and then you and I are going to have lots of fun together."
The Death Eaters all took up positions around the cauldron, each standing on a corner of a five-pointed star that had been drawn on the ground and started chanting.
In the brief moment to themselves. Harry looked over and caught Fleur's eye. He smiled softly and mouthed the word "Catch."
Fleur didn't have time to process what was happening. With a subtle twist of his wrist, Harry summoned the Triwizard Cup and sent it hurtling toward her. The second it touched her hand, she was pulled out of the graveyard to safety.
Fleur landed with a hard thud in the middle of the lawn in front of the spectator stands, the Triwizard Cup clutched in her hand. The crowd roared and cheered with applause.
"The winner of the Triwizard Tournament, from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Miss Fleur Delacour!" Ludo Bagman's voice boomed out.
She was completely swarmed, everyone eager to congratulate her and shake her hand or take a picture with her. It took her all of three seconds to get her mind back in place and spring to action again.
"MOVE! Out of my way! 'Arry! I must get to 'Arry!" She shouted as she tried to swim her way through the crowd, all but pushing people out of the way. Her way was blocked by Krum, who had a sheepish expression, eyes averted, unable to look her in the eyes.
"I am sorry, Miss Delacour. I do not know vat happened in there. I…"
Fleur huffed but tried to be polite, though what little patience she had was wearing thin. "Viktor, I appreciate eet. You were cursed I zink. Eet was not your fault so zere are no 'ard feelings. Excuse me, I must go. 'Arry ees een trouble, I must get out of 'ere to 'elp 'im."
Viktor furrowed his brow. "In trouble? No, he is not in trouble. Harry is in the medical tent."
Fleur stammered "What? 'Ow?"
"He vas found and brought to the tent. I think the Devil's Snare got him. Look there..." The Bulgarian turned and pointed.
Fleur looked over and sure enough, Harry Potter was sitting on a cot inside the medical tent. Pomfrey was bustling about him. "Zank you, Viktor." She quickly shook his hand and made her way over.
Harry looked up and gave her a broad smile that quickly turned into a grimace as he clutched his head. "Fleur… aaah!" The boy was covered head to toe in what looked like small lacerations and other signs of a struggle with the murderous plant.
"'Arry!? What 'appened? 'Ow are you 'ere?"
Harry shook his head "I dunno, I think I got clobbered pretty hard. Everything in my head's a little fuzzy. Oh! Congratulations! You deserve that, you do." He pointed to the large blue and silver cup in her hands.
Fleur's brow was deeply furrowed. This was not making any sense. Unless... "'Arry, what do you remember from ze maze?"
"Uh, big hedges, maybe? It was dark…" He furrowed his brow, closing his eyes as he thought about it. "Honestly, not much more. I think I have some sort of memory loss or something from whatever got me in the maze. One moment I was in my room getting ready and meeting with Hermione… now I'm here. It's all a little bonkers…"
"But… you were zere... we were… non. Non. NON!" Fleur screamed as reality hit her. She burst from the medical tent, searching the crowd desperately for her mate. What have you done, Hermione?
"Miss Delacour, a word in private, if you will?" Moody's gruff voice growled in her ear and she felt a wand press firmly into her back.
"CRUCIO!" Bellatrix screamed, twisting the handle of her walnut wand to intensify the pain caused by the spell.
Hermione cringed when she heard the Death Eater called McNair screaming out in pain. She knew all too well what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Bellatrix's wrath. But Fleur was safe. She had a split second when the Death Eaters were distracted to get her mate to safety and she had taken it. She hadn't intended to split up, but things had gone sideways so fast after they arrived that she had to come up with something on the fly. She knew Fleur would probably hate her later but that was the least of her concerns at the moment.
She needed to figure out a way to escape while she still had time. She knew that they wouldn't kill her right off the bat. Not when they thought she was Harry. They still needed him for the ritual. From her research, she knew that the ritual would accept any 'enemy,' so it didn't have to be Harry. They just wanted it to be the one who caused Voldemort's downfall to be the one to bring him back. A weird twisted sense of justice and revenge. Fortunately, her Polyjuice Potion disguise was still going strong and they seemed none the wiser. She had done some tweaks to the recipe so she knew she had at least another half-hour or so before the effects wore off.
"She was mine! How could you lose her, you worthless pile of horse shit!" Bellatrix's face was contorted with fury, her dark eyes burning.
"I-I don't know… She must have broken through! She is strong!" The Death Eater stammered, curled up in a protective ball on the ground. His mask had fallen off at some point. His thin face was gaunt and his eyes wild and unfocused as the effects of the curse coursed through his body.
"You call yourself a pureblood? You are a fucking disgrace you worthless nitwit!" Bellatrix roared "You were bested by a halfbreed! If that's what you are against a little girl, then let's see how you hold up against a grown woman then..." she raised her wand and pointed it at him to curse him but was interrupted.
"Enough Bellatrix, we have more important issues at hand. Our Lord awaits." Malfoy chided.
Bellatrix instantly calmed at the thought of Voldemort, but her eyes had lost none of their anger. She quickly shoved her wand back into its holster, her lips twitching as she tried to breathe through her fury. "Of course." She glared at McNair again. "I'll deal with you later."
The tortured Death Eater gulped but got shakily to his feet, eyes downcast and trembling slightly.
The robed Death Eaters got back into position around the cauldron again and started their chanting. Wormtail stepped forward and deposited Voldemort into the bubbling liquid.
"Bone of the Father, unknowingly given." They chanted and Wormtail waved his wand. There was a loud cracking sound from inside the mausoleum and a leg bone came soaring through the air. The concoction hissed and steamed when the bone was added.
"Flesh of the Servant, willingly sacrificed," Wormtail raised his wand again and in one swift movement he sliced his right hand off and it dropped into the cauldron. The concoction had taken on the stench of rotting flesh and Hermione fought the urge to throw up.
"Blood of the Enemy, forcibly taken." Wormtail approached her slowly, pulling out a silver dagger from his pocket. Her heart was hammering hard in her chest as he reached up and grabbed her arm, pulling it toward him. He dug the knife tip into the soft flesh of her forearm and sliced deep. She screamed out in pain as blood gushed out of the wound, her eyes clenched shut. She forced them open to watch, she didn't want to miss something but her head was swimming in pain. The rat carefully tipped the dagger over the cauldron and flicked off three drops of blood.
"The Dark Lord riseth. His glorious reign is now. He will purge the world of the unworthy. He will cleanse us of the wicked and the usurpers. He will bring about the age of glory to the pure. The Dark Lord riseth." The Death Eaters were chanting repeatedly as the mixture turned blood red and started to boil rapidly.
Hermione struggled against the body binding curse holding her in position, but since Fleur's escape they had doubled the strength of her binds and there was no moving this time.
After a few more seconds the liquid began rising into the air, starting to morph into a slightly-humanoid shape.
The Death Eaters chanted louder and with more vigor.
Hermione watched with wide eyes as the liquid continued to boil and roil and morph into a recognizable form. The cauldron had dissipated into a fine black mist that swirled up around Voldemort's body, shrouding him in long black robes as the man took a solid form and his feet touched down.
Voldemort stood still and silent for several moments, taking deep breaths through the snake-like slits where his nose once was. He reached up to touch his face and opened his bright red eyes with a satisfied exhale. He was back.
Bellatrix instantly dropped to her knees, prostrating herself in front of her Dark Lord. "Master…" she held up his wand for him in one hand, her other clutched the hem of his robes with reverence, sobbing hysterically. She acted like she worshipped the ground he walked on. It made Hermione's gut twist. It was so different from the dark witch's usual behavior, she found it rather unnerving. She didn't think the woman was capable of love or feelings, but it was clear she felt something for the twisted dark wizard.. The other four Death Eaters stood still, their heads bowed in respect. Wormtail was cowering behind the statue of Death.
"Ahhhhh…" Voldemort's voice was high and cruel as he turned to face the four standing Death Eaters, ignoring the woman at his feet other than to take his wand back. "Thirteen years… I find myself disappointed. None of you tried to find me. None of you came to my aid. You call yourself my loyal followers. But where were you? You don't deserve to wear those!" Voldemort screeched, waving his wand and ripping the silver masks off the three masked Death Eaters. McNair's was still on the ground from when it had fallen off during Bellatrix's torture session.
"We never abandoned you, our commitment never faltered. My Lord! This face is my true mask… one I am forced to put on every day so that I may serve the cause… hiding in plain sight… the sacrifices we have had to make to ensure your return. Our loyalty never wavered, My Lord." Lucius Malfoy looked up hopefully. Voldemort fixed him with a fiery red glare, causing him to shrink in on himself.
"You speak the words but your actions tell me otherwise, Malfoy." Voldemort sneered "My dear Bellatrix here," the woman in question sobbed at the mention of her name, "Has been a prisoner almost as long as me and yet in her short months of freedom she sought me out and tended to me. She has done more than any of you ever have!"
The Death Eaters cowered and Wormtail emerged from his hiding place. "I returned…"
"Out of fear, not loyalty." Voldemort said cooly. "Still… you have offered great sacrifice to return me. Hold out your arm."
Wormtail held out his right arm, and with a flourish of Voldemort's wand a silver hand appeared on the end of the bloody stump. "Thank you, My Lord, thank you." The cowardly wizard retreated back to the shadows, testing his new hand out.
"The time is here, we must start gather the faithful and loyal… A new and glorious day is on the horizon and we must prepare ourselves."
"What of the boy?" Bellatrix looked over at Harry.
"Ah, Harry… Potter." Voldemort sneered as he spoke the name. "The Boy Who Lived… made famous by lies…" He moved slowly over to where Hermione was suspended.
Hermione's heart was pounding as the Dark Lord was bearing down on her. She did her best to keep her face calm but she knew it was a losing battle.
Voldemort was mere inches from her face now, so close that she could feel his breath on her skin. If she wasn't in a full body bind she would have shuddered.
"How is it that a mere babe with no extraordinary magical talent defeated me you ask? Well let me tell you. It wasn't your power that kept you alive all those years ago. No. It was your mother's love. When she sacrificed herself for her only son, she provided you with a sort of shield. I couldn't touch you. But now that I have been restored with your blood, I can touch you now." Voldemort punctuated the last words to emphasize his point. He slowly held up a slender pale finger and pressed it to her forehead, right on the scar.
Hermione remembered that Harry had said it was the most excruciating pain he had ever felt, so she did her best acting and yelled and screamed as if it were the end of the world.
Voldemort sneered and laughed, high and cruel, enjoying 'torturing' her. "Weak. You are so weak… But now that mummy's not here to save you, let us finish what we started, shall we? A duel! Yes, a duel! So the world will know that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived is just that… a boy… who lived a little while but can die like everyone else. That there was nothing special about the famous Harry Potter. That in the end, Harry Potter begged for a death... and I, being the merciful Lord that I am willingly obliged your request." He waved his wand and negated the spell holding Hermione in place.
Hermione fell to the ground with a thud, breathing hard.
"Pick up your wand, boy!" Voldemort screamed. "Dumbledore has taught you to duel, yes? First, we bow."
Hermione grabbed her wand and stood but refused to bow to Voldemort, glaring at him with her wand pointed at him.
"Come, come… we mustn't forget our manners… I said… BOW TO ME!" Voldemort hit her with the Imperious curse, which she tried to fight but given how much energy she had already used, she was not able to throw the curse and she felt her body bend at the waist against her will.
"Crucio!"
Pain jolted through her body and she spasmed uncontrollably. She felt as if a million pins punctured her skin simultaneously while her body was burning from the inside and out.
"Better boy. Now… Get up. I want to see the look on your eyes when I kill you. I want to see your light fade!"
Hermione got to her feet "You'll never win, not while I'm around…" And in a flash, she Disapparated on the spot. She could still hear Voldemort's anguished scream as she traveled through space, stretched and pulled like putty.
Hermione reappeared in the Headmaster's office, a little disoriented at first but she turned and saw him sitting quietly at his desk, sucking on what looked like a lollipop. "Well?"
"He's back," she said flatly. "Voldemort suspects nothing. As far as he knows, Harry escaped from the graveyard."
Dumbledore simply tilted his chin slightly. "Good."
"Thank you for holding the anti-Apparition wards open for me, by the way. How did you know?"
"Well, when you didn't return with Miss Delacour, I had to assume that things hadn't gone quite according to plan, so I thought it was time to initiate our back up plan."
Hermione nodded, "How did we do with the rest?"
"As of twenty minutes ago, Miss Delacour is safe. The imposter has been apprehended and returned to Azkaban and the real Mad-Eye Moody has been rescued. Miss Skeeter was there to witness the entire incident, so you can expect a full story about her deep undercover work that revealed that Barty Crouch Jr. seemingly returned from the dead and of Voldemort's return, leaving Harry out of the spotlight. Poor boy thinks he got hit on the head by Devil's Snare… Good thinking, using Dobby to help. The little elf did a good job making it look convincing. I forgot there is one other in Hogwarts who is willing to do whatever it takes to keep that boy out of harm's way. You have done well, Miss Granger. I will inform Harry of Voldemort's return and keep him safe next year while you take care of what you need to do."
"I think I can help with that."
"Oh? You have a plan? Well, Miss Granger, I am all ears."
"I'll tell you later, right now I think there is somewhere we both need to be." Hermione felt her face starting to morph back into her own visage as the effects of the Polyjuice were wearing off. "I suspect I have a very angry Veela on my hands."
A smile spread across Dumbledore's thin lips, his watery blue eyes twinkled. "Right you are…" He pulled the Tempus Novus from under his robes. "Thank you for returning this to me, by the way. While I had thought about keeping it, I think it best I destroy this version. It has served its purpose now and it is too dangerous to have two versions of it. The original is safely held within Fawkes."
Hermione nodded and headed for the door. She paused with her hand on the knob and turned back to him. "I can't believe we actually did it…"
"Did what? Good night," Dumbledore winked and turned his attention back to his lollipop as the brunette witch slipped out of the quiet office with a soft chuckle.