Well, I think it's been quite long enough, don't you? I hope it doesn't disappoint and that you're all doing well!
With a low, pained groan, Harry lifted his head slowly and stirred on the muddy ground. Weakly, he dug into the ground with clenched fists, desperately trying to anchor himself in the earth to fight the spinning feeling rushing through his head and gut.
With a haggard grunt, he pushed and flipped his body onto his back. His eyes clenched shut until the either the world or his head stopped spinning, whichever was first.
"...A'rry?"
Still breathing heavy, he turned to his left and cracked his eyes open. His glasses had fallen off somewhere during his landing, so his vision wasn't very clear, but he was just able to make out the blonde hair of the Beauxbaxton champion against the misty gray surroundings.
"Fleur?" he wheezed back, still trying to find air in his lungs again. He could make out the blonde figure approach and grab onto his arm, helping him to a sitting position.
"Fleur," he said as she kneeled next to him, "What the bloody hell is going on?"
"I don't know." the girl shot back, her own breathing labored and her grip on Harry's arm betraying her fear with the situation. The world was slowly beginning to stabilize again, just enough for Harry to remember he needed his glasses. He was about to ask the girl if she had seen them when he felt their familiar, cold metal and glass pressed into his left hand.
"Found these." Came the voice of Cedric Diggory from behind the two. "Are you two alright?"
Harry and Fleur both nodded as Harry replaced his glasses, pushing the brim up on his nose with a mud-covered hand. As the glass covered his eyes, Harry began to wonder the question that had followed Cedric's first.
"Where the hell are we?" Harry whispered as he looked around his surroundings with newfound clarity.
The sky above was dark and stormy. It wasn't raining, but the clouds churned like waves roaring and rolling across the open sea. Looking around, giant granite and marble monoliths, mausoleums and gargoyles, surrounded where the champions had landed. The additional tombstones spotted throughout made it plainly clear they were in some kind of graveyard, but a deep and haunting chill that ran up and down Harry's spine didn't go unnoticed.
"The cup…" Cedric continued, nervously pointing his wand defensively into the surrounding mist, "It must have been…a portkey?"
"A portkey?" Fleur shot back, shock and betrayal in her voice. "Who would have made the Cup a portkey?"
Harry's eyes shot back to the cup, now laying a few feet away covered in mud and noticeably less shiny than it had before.
"Is it some sort of…test?" Cedric offered, helping Harry and Fleur to their feet but remaining armed and ready. "Like another hidden trial?"
"No." Harry shook his head, the hairs on his neck standing up the more he could piece together about their surroundings.
"No, somethings wrong. This isn't right. We shouldn't be he –"
A dark voice hissed from the mist.
"Kill the spare."
The voice was sinister, but weak and muffled. Even so, the second the sound reached his ears, Harry's hand shot to his scar in agony as a searing pain pushed through his mind with a dark heat.
"But, my Lord." Came a shaky reply to the command. "Which one?"
There seemed to be a small moment of silence, confusion momentarily breaking the ominous presence lingering around them, but the hissing soon returned.
"Kill them! All but Potter!"
"Avada Kedav-"
"Get down!"
Harry, Fleur, and Cedric gasped as just before a brilliant green streak of death could burst through the mist and his one of them, they were tackled to the ground and dragged behind a long marble tombstone. Harry was dazed, but quickly refocused, finding Viktor Krum kneeling behind the tombstone and firing blasting charms back at the voices in the mist.
"What iz happening?" Fleur screamed has as she gripped her wand trembling with both hands. The young champion was no coward in the face of danger, but near misses with an unforgivable were enough to rattle anyone.
"Ambush." Viktor growled as he continued to fire off a string of hexes back towards the attacker. Small flakes of marble and granite showered onto the champions as narrowly avoided spells obliterated the surrounding graveyard.
"An ambush?" Cedric yelled as he crawled behind a nearby gargoyle, returning two cutting hexes to the unknown assailants. "From who?"
"A coward." Viktor grunted back with a sneer, ducking down as a sickly yellow bolt barely missed where his hand had just been. A second spell hit the ground in between Fleur and Harry, causing the two to scream and roll for cover nearby. The sudden movement at least served to break the two out of their stupor, however, and they joined Cedric and Viktor in returning fire.
"We've got to find a way out of here." Harry yelled over the thunder of spell fire from his hiding spot behind a small tombstone.
"Well, clearly." Cedric fire back, rolling to a new tombstone as his previous cover began to ooze a strange, black fluid Harry agreed likely didn't need to make contact with skin. "But how the hell do you suggest we do that?"
Harry's mind raced through his available escape options. At least with a dragon chasing him or in the depths of the lakes, he had been close enough to familiar territory; enough to come up with an escape plan. But, wherever they were now, if it was even still England, didn't seem to have any such options. The only thing linking them to the maze now was the –
"The portkey!" Harry yelled. The champions locked eyes for a moment at the revelation before nodding in agreement. Viktor rolled back from his cover and began a complex series of wand movements before a dark cloud escaped his wand, filling the area.
"Run. Now!" Krum yelled as the cloud expanded, coving their positions as unnamed curses and hexes flashed through the crowd but over their heads. Dashing first through the cover, Harry managed to spot the portkey lying in the mud where they had first landed. He stumbled slightly in his approach, but caught himself and dove for the cup before –
BOOM!
A single red streak hit the ground six feet from the portkey and twenty feet from Harry and the ground erupted, a swirling inferno of mud and debris sending him flying into the tombstone behind him and sending the world into darkness.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given…"
Harry's world blurred slowly back into focus as a weak, whimpering voice seemed to whisper in his ear. He tried to move, but suddenly found himself bound, the massive arms of a stone reaper encasing him in place. Still reeling from the explosion, Harry was barely able to make out a hunched-back figure pouring over a massive, roiling caldron at his feet.
"What…" he groaned. "What's happening?"
"Be silent!" the figure squeaked, fear and urgency permeating the order. But that voice, small and…mousey. Harry had heard it before, he was sure of it.
"Wormtail?" he whispered, his mind suddenly switching into gear and forcing his body to push as hard as it could against his restraints. Despite his struggle, the granite remained firm.
"Do not stop the incantation, Wormtail." Hissed a small, dark voice from nearby. "You have wasted precious time, already."
Harry's head recoiled violently as each word seemed to tear into his mind. Wormtail, who had previously been attempting to intimidate Harry, shrunk back immediately, frantically returning to preparing the potion.
Harry's eyes quickly found their way to the source of the hissing to see a small, tattered bundle of black cloth, writhing in the center of a massive, coiled python. His breath hitched in his mouth and he squirmed violently against his restraints as the serpent eyed him darkly.
"What the hell is happening." Harry growled as he watched Wormtail add what looked to be intestines of some sort into the concoction.
"It is fitting…" the voice began again. For the first time, Harry realized that the voice wasn't truly speaking, but rather forcing and clawing his way into his mind.
"The source of my…downfall…be the lynchpin of my rebirth."
Harry gave a ragged wheeze as the stone grip of the reaper tightened around his neck. As the air slipped from his lungs, he was able to whisper one word across his lips.
"Voldemort."
The voice, if possible, seemed to sneer in his mind.
"We have not met flesh to flesh in all these years, and yet it is so refreshing to know my name is not forgotten."
"You're not even alive!" Harry spat out, feeling his ribs begin to crush under the weight. "A parasite. A shell of a creature, just like Professor Dumbledo-"
"That old fool knows nothing of what -" the voice boomed, rage flaring in its tone in a sudden outburst before regaining its composure.
"Good Albus does not have the strength or the mind to comprehend what I have become." The voice spat recovered, venom still lacing every word. "I have transcended life and subjugated Death itself."
As the voice continued, arrogance oozing from its words, Harry watched in horror as Wormtail added increasingly demented additions to the concoction before him. He watched, transfixed in horror, as Wormtail approached the cauldron and summoned a large, silver blade etched with intricate carvings and runes up and down the side. Until now, the man had pointedly avoided eye contact with Harry, but as Wormtail held his arm out over the cauldron and rolled up his sleeve, the two met each other's gaze for just a moment.
Wormtail met Harry's eyes and saw the fear and disgust behind his emerald green orbs.
Harry saw the same.
"Flesh of the servant…" the man trembled as he drew the blade firmly against his skin. Harry could hear the man whimper slightly as the tip of the blade dug softly into his forearm.
"…willingly given."
With one pull, Wormtail yanked the blade across his flesh. Harry had to fight the nausea that rushed forth as the man's wrist and hand fell with a splash into the roiling cauldron. Wormtail clenched his robe between his teeth desperately, but it did little to stifle his screams as he fumbled for his wand. As quick as he could, he turned his wand on the appendage and managed to choke out a faint spell. A small spark of flame burst forth from the wand and a black char suddenly wrapped around the open wound, cauterizing the gushing appendage.
Breathing heavily and sweating profusely, Wormtail slowly rose back and turned to Harry. Slowly, he approached the boy, whipping his own blood from the blade against his robes as he approached.
"And now," the voice returned, "Your opportunity to atone for your roll in the undoing of my last vessel."
"No."
Harry screamed, rattling violently against his bonds.
"Get away. Leave me alone." He yelled into the darkness. "Fleur, Cedric, Viktor!"
"Blood of the enemy." Wormtail muttered darkly, almost as if in a trance upon reaching Harry. The blade slowly rose in the death eaters hand until it was pointed right over the boy's chest.
"Help!"
"Forcibly taken."
The conjured blade was as sharp as it looked and Harry howled in pain as he felt it tear into his chest, slicing apart his shirt and leaving a cut across his torso and slightly up his neck. Wormtail shivered as the blade suddenly turned a deep crimson, soaking in Harry's blood as it poured from his chest. Quickly, Wormtail took the blade and plunged it into the cauldron. Through his pain, Harry could feel the cauldron roil as the blade sank into the sickly green concoction.
"Now, Wormtail!" hissed the voice. Wormtail jumped at the voice's urgency, rushing over and grabbing the black swaddled cloth. Harry watched in disgust as a fetal looking creature rolled out from the cloth and sank into the bubble cauldron. The mixture reacted like it never had before, splashing and shaking violently against its chains as Wormtail cowered in a corner, whimpering softly. Harry squinted and attempted to shield his eyes as a brilliant flash erupted through the graveyard.
Harry felt a searing heat suddenly emanate from the cauldron as the concoction spilled onto the ground and erupted into roaring flames. Harry screamed in agony, like a spike being shoved through his mind, as the fetal creature seemed to hover in mid-air surrounded by boiling vapors. Slowly, Harry could hear the squelch of bones breaking and skin stretching as the creature grew in size. A dark cloud began to slowly surround the creature as it finally seemed to cease growing, standing to its full height as a dark robe materialized from the vapor around it.
Suddenly, the pale figure opened its eyes, and Harry felt his blood run cold as he saw it smile. Slowly, almost sensually, the creature flexed its hands and rubbed its boney fingertips along its scalp.
"Oh, Harry." It cooed, its voice like poison burning through Harry's ear.
"Are you not just overjoyed to have me back? Back in the flesh and blood and…" The creature paused as it continued to bask in its own presence for a moment longer.
"No…" Harry whispered, suddenly realizing what stood before him. "No, you can't…"
Voldemort gave a jagged, sinister smile as he watched the revelation wash over his enemy.
"Oh, but I am, Harry." The Dark Lord interrupted, slowly taking his first steps forward. "And it is you I must thank most of all. Because now, with your…gracious contributions to my cause, my new body is better than it ever has been before."
Harry looked on with horror as the new Lord Voldemort slowly approached the statute that held him captive, his mind pounding with each step he took closer.
"For before," Voldemort continued, "A pitiful, ancient magic kept us separate. You, my fate appointed enemy, were beyond my touch through nothing more than fluke. But now…with your blood coursing through my veins."
Harry suddenly realized he was screaming as the Dark Lord slowly raised a finger, inching it closer to Harry's scar.
"I can touch you, once more."
Harry's scar felt like it was splitting his head in two as the icy cold, pale finger touched him. Voldemort's smile split into a sadistic grin as Harry howled in pain, thrashing violently against his bonds. He continued to push harder and harder onto the boy's scar as Harry continued to scream. He only paused when, despite Harry's scream, Voldemort became aware of a soft, whimper around him.
Voldemort removed his finger, albeit reluctantly, and Harry gasped in the dark heat finally receded from his mind. Slowly, he turned and walked across the clearing to the source of the whimpering as Harry could only watch on. Voldemort slowly stepped around a tombstone to find Wormtail rocking himself softly in pain, biting furiously onto his own robes to stop from screaming as he clutched his arm.
"Ah, Wormtail." Voldemort said, spreading his arms wide. "My loyal, loyal servant. I had wondered where you had fled too."
Wormtail attempted to respond, but found himself unable to speak, only crying out in pain. Voldemort seemed to close his eyes as the man's pained screams filled the graveyard, savoring their sound.
"Your wand, Wormtail." The Dark Lord commanded. Wormtail trembled as he frantically reached for his wand, his remaining hand sweating profusely. Voldemort gave a sickly grin as he took the wand from the pained wizard, lightly holding it in his hand. Wormtail looked up, begging his master for some form of relief, but Voldemort seemed content to listen to screams.
"P-please. Mast. Master." Wormtail whimpered, beginning to grow lightheaded from the blood loss. Voldemort's face quickly shifted, a deadly seriousness washing over his features.
"Please, Master?" he mocked. "And why, pray tell, should I do anything for you, you sniveling rodent. You failed to kill the other champions upon my command and almost ruined my resurrection. Tell me why you deserve any form of mercy."
Wormtail seemed only to fall into deeper despair as the Dark Lord's words dug into him, the man weeping pitifully as he fell prostrate at the dark wizard's feet. With a nimbleness Harry hadn't expected, Voldemort jumped back, not allowing his servant's blood or tears sully his robe. Instead, Voldemort sighed, annoyed, and waved his hand.
"Rise." He commanded disinterestedly. "Though you are a pitiful excuse for a servant, you have somehow managed to not impede my resurrection. For that, and that alone, your faithfulness shall be rewarded."
Harry watched as Voldemort wrapped his hand quickly around Wormtail's robed arm, loosely holding the limb before waving his wand in a complex motion. The blood that had been oozing from Wormtail's stump of a limb seemed to turn grey and twist itself into what slowly became a false hand. Wormtail stared in amazement as his new, silver appendage formed and moved just as his hand had once before. The moment his awe had passed momentarily, Wormtail fell, again, prostrate on the ground.
"Th-thank you, My Lord!" he cried out. "Thank you so mu—"
"Enough of your filthy groveling." Voldemort snarled, pulling his robes away from the man. "Go and prepare to summon the others."
The mouse-man squeaked pitifully before scrambling off, once again leaving Voldemort and Harry alone in the clearing. Voldemort turned back to his captive, rolling his shoulders slightly and taking a deep breath.
"I apologize for such…interruptions, Harry. I had so wanted this meeting to be perfect but, alas. No accounting for the commoners, as I'm sure you understand."
Harry didn't reply, only glaring intently at the Dark Lord, much to the latter's amusement.
"Come now, Harry. No need for there to be such bad blood between us." Voldemort's thin lips tugging softly upward in a perverted attempt at a smile.
"After all. We are now joined by more than just your scar. For so long, I had been a part of you. But now, you are also a part of me."
"You're sick." Harry spat, earning a dark cackle from the wizard.
"Now, now. Manners, Harry. Manners. "
The Dark Lord seemed to glide forward, his dark robes silently billowing behind the movement as he approached close enough to whisper in Harry's ear.
"You will show me respect." He hissed. Harry's eyes shot open as a boney, white hand suddenly burst out from the robe and ever so slowly descended until it hovered right above his scar.
Harry let out a bloodcurdling scream as the Dark Lord reached out and touched the scar, his hand like a burning metal rod pressed against Harry's skull.
"Yes." Voldemort hissed, his head reeling back as he relished in the screams. "Not so fun to be on the other end of that, is it, Harry?"
Harry was left gasping raggedly when the finger finally left his head, his mind still aching far too much to allow him to respond. Through his pain, Harry could just barely notice a series of small pops as figures in black cloaks and masks suddenly appeared in the area.
Voldemort turned, arms spread wide as he addressed the newly gathered audience.
"Welcome, friends." The Dark Lord boomed, "Thirteen years, it's been, and yet, here you stand before me." Slowly, pacing silently around the group, Harry noticed each member tremble slightly as they were approached.
"I confess myself…" Voldemort's faux civility faded away in an instant as his words turned to a low growl in his mouth.
"Disappointed".
Slowly, Voldemort raised a single hand, his bone white fingers twisting in the air. Then, his fingers clenched into a fist, and the assembled masked figures each buckled, screaming in pain.
"Your lack…" Voldemort hissed, a dark pressure rolling off him like a tidal surge as his followers writhed on the ground around him, "…of loyalty has cost me even the formalities of the rebirth of which I am deserved."
Just as quickly as the pressure had descended, it dissipated, the Death Eater's cries morphing into pained groans as they attempted to take a knee.
"It seems that in his haste to facilitate my return, dearest Peter has been unable to handle three of young Harry's fellow champions. You will find them and bring them to me."
"Go."
Immediately, pillars of darkness erupted from where the Death Eater's stood as their shadows raced off into the graveyard, leaving only Harry, Wormtail, and Voldemort remaining.
"Look at what you face, Harry." Voldemort hissed. "The heads of nearly every ancient and powerful bloodline in the history of magic obey my every whim. I am building an empire the likes of which the world has never known!"
Voldemort's eyes leveled on Harry with a mocking grin.
"And you," he taunted, "but a child in this world, hope to stand against me?"
Voldemort rolled his head back in a thunderous laughter.
"Well then," The Dark Lord demanded, taking a step back from the stone guardian that held Harry in place and waving his hand. With a lurch, the stone statue's vice-like grip on the boy release, sending Harry sprawling to the ground.
"Stand."
Harry, however, could barely hear the command. The sudden rush of air to his lungs was more pain than relief, but he gasped it full anyway. Harry made to start an attempt to roll away, but a dark force grabbed hold of his hands and wrists and pulled. Harry's body flopped like a puppet to a standing position, a wand suddenly floating into his hand.
Voldemort gave what attempted for a smile, taking a dueling pace away from Harry.
"Harry, Harry, Harry." The Dark Lord whispered. "And I would think you would know proper dueling technique by now."
"I won't—"Harry tried to object, but the invisible chain's around his limbs squeezed suddenly, snapping his body into a dueling stance.
"YOU WILL, POTTER." Voldemort suddenly roared, his face snarling in rage. "YOU WILL STAND BEFORE ME AND FALL."
Harry's body chilled at the sudden fury, like standing at the edge of an oncoming storm. As quick as the outburst came, however, Voldemort tilted his head back and breathed deeply, instantly calming.
"Inexcusable, Harry." He said finally, "I cannot allow you to deny decorum."
"I trust you were taught how to duel?"
Harry barred his teeth, but nodded. His eye's never leaving the Dark Lord as he slowly bowed. Voldemort, completely consumed in the moment, bowed deeply, his black cloak rippling like shadows.
"Expelliarmus!"
Harry dove to the side as the red bolt erupted from his wand while Voldemort was still mid bow. Without looking, a clear shimmer filled the air and the spell fizzled at contact with an invisible barrier.
"Expelliarmus?" Voldemort cackled, rising back to his full height. "Oh, Harry. You're going to need much, much more than that."
There was a dark rush of wind as Voldemort twisted his wand in a arcing, circular motion, whispering in a dark language Harry had never heard before. With a roar, chains of fire erupted from the Dark Lord's wand, tearing the ground apart as they zoned in on Harry.
"Ack!" Harry cried out as he dove desperately to the side, suddenly extremely happy Viktor had been forcing him to practice sudden broom evasions. The chains sizzled as they scorched the earth where Harry had just been as the Voldemort's laughter howled through the night.
More chains suddenly flared into life, shattering the granite tombstones as they raked across the area, Harry barely able to roll away.
"Reducto!" Harry cried, firing his own spell in a moment's pause. "Incendio!"
The jet of fire that erupted from Harry's wand momentarily lit up the surroundings, but the flame suddenly began to morph, collapsing inward on itself into a small ball in Voldemort's outstretched palm.
"Incendio?" the Dark Lord said, amusement filling his voice. "Now, that is a step in the right direction."
Voldemort took his wand and plunged it into the controlled ball of fire.
"But it's nowhere near enough!"
The ball of flame suddenly exploded outward, scorching everything around it. Harry howled in pain as he couldn't duck in time to pull his left arm out of the blast wave, the heat charring his sleeve and scalding his flesh.
"You see, Harry." Voldemort's voice filled the graveyard as Harry limply crawled away, hidden by the tombstones. "I have all the time in the world. You and your little friends can hide amongst the bones all you want. You will die by my hands, ton—"
Voldemort's voice was suddenly cut off as a massive explosion rocked through the courtyard. With a thunderous crash, the cauldron that had fallen empty before came hurtling through the gravestones, smashing them apart like sand-castles. Harry cowered down as the massive cauldron crashed over his head, bowling straight into the Dark Lord, who disappeared in a mist of black smoke that surged off to the source of the explosion.
"Harry!"
Harry's eyes suddenly shot up as Cedric's voice pierced through the air, explosions and crackling of spells roiling in the distance.
"Over here!" Harry called out weakly, gasping in pain as his blistered arm accidentally raked across the wet grass. Through the rubble, a soot covered and bruised Cedric suddenly dove nearby, just barely ducking a particularly vile looking yellow hex.
"Are you alright?" Cedric yelled, quickly hiding behind a tombstone near the boy.
Harry grit his teeth, but gave a small nod.
"Where's Viktor and Fleur?" Harry yelled, but he didn't have to wait long to find the answer. With a bestial roar, Viktor Krum surged through the rubble like a bull. Clinging one arm around the Bulgarian's shoulders while Krum held her legs, the blonde part-Veela twisted her free hand violently, screaming hexes and curses in French into the distance. Harry could see Fleur's legs bleeding profusely, looking mangled.
"бягам!" Krum roared in his native tongue, his eyes narrowed like a cornered fox. "We must flee!"
"Harry," Cedric shouted, "Can you walk? Where's Voldemort?"
"He disappeared when the cauldron hit him." Harry replied quickly, struggling to a crouched position.
"But he won't be gone for long. We have to get out of here."
The group ducked low as another group of hexes blasted overhead from the mist.
"Where can we go?" Cedric asked as he fired three explosive charms into the darkness, lighting up the graveyard as debris flung everywhere. Harry's eyes narrowed as he quickly scanned the surrounding area. "We've got to hid somewhere!"
As Harry's eyes scanned the ruins of the graveyard, a sudden and reckless idea struck him.
"The cauldron." Harry ordered, his voice ragged, "Get into the cauldron."
Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor all looked at Harry in confusion, but quickly followed the young wizard as he desperately limped over to the cauldron. Harry quickly dove into the massive iron cauldron and strained with his working arm to tile the vessel onto it's top as Cedric helped a crippled Fleur off Viktor's shoulders and underneath before Krum grabbed the lid and grunted, forcing the massive cauldron to roll onto it's top, enclosing the group in darkness.
"Lumos." Harry whispered, filling the cramped cauldron with light.
"We are trapped." Fleur cried, her hand bloodied and shaky as she looked to her companions. "They will surround us all!"
Krum, breathing in low, ragged breaths, nodded gravely.
"They vill find us."
"Then we need to get out." Harry shot back quickly, his head racing.
"But how?" Cedric shot back harshly, flinching as the sound of explosions echoed into the pot. "We're totally surrounding."
Harry tried to think, but the echo of spells through the iron filled his brain. They were just trapped under some giant cup, waiting for Voldemort's forces to encircle and…
…cup.
"The cup." Harry suddenly whispered, his eyes zoning out. "We need to get to the cup!"
"How?" the Bulgarian countered, "Death surrounds us like a storm and ve do not know where it is."
Fleur, who had remained silent during this, pulled out her wand and placed it in her open palm in the center of the cauldron.
"Portkey." The blonde whispered, her wand suddenly jerking to life and hovering above her hand. It spun on an axis like a compass, as if orienting itself, before snapping towards a direction outside the cup, just over her own left shoulder.
"Zat way." The French witch grunted through pain, "We need to get to it."
"But how will we get—"
Cedric suddenly slammed his hand over Harry's mouth and put a hand over the end of his wand, extinguishing the light.
"Oh, Harry!" the voice seemed to reverberate through the cauldron like a gong, standing out as the sounds in the background disappeared. "Surely, you don't wish to spend your final moments cowering."
Inside the darkness of the cauldron, Harry felt his heart run cold as Voldemort's echoed nearby.
"Though," voice taunted, and Harry could almost feel the twisted smile through the voice, "I can't say I'm surprised. You're just as much a rat as your filthy parents."
Harry felt the grip on his wand tighten and he knew his hand was trembling.
"Yes." The voice was growing closer, "Just like your filthy parents. Running and hiding like the vermin they were. Truly, like parent like child."
"He comes." Krum whispered in the darkness. "We must run."
"How?" Cedric hissed, "We can't just run out from under here. We'd be captured for sure."
Harry leaned his head back against the cool iron casing as he breathed jaggedly. He pulled his good hand up and swiped away a small bit of granite that had fallen into the cauldron out of his hair, remembering how the metal tank had smashed through countless gravestones as it blasted through the sky.
"Wait," Harry suddenly whispered, his eyes widening as a reckless, stupid, impossible idea suddenly hit him.
"Does anyone know any force spells?"
His naked feet glided along the wet grass of the graveyard, lighting his newly re-acquired skin alight with glorious sensation.
"You know, Harry." Voldemort called out into the graveyard as his eyes casually surveyed the surroundings. "After I left you blood-traitor father bleeding in your doorway, your mother grabbed you and fled up into the house. I had to slowly make my way through the house, searching each and every room till I finally discovered her."
Voldemort stepped over a particularly large piece of granite that had chunked off a nearby mausoleum.
"I'm reminded of it now. Searching for a foe too cowardly to stand and face their justice." The Dark Lord continued, his hand brushing against one of the tombs. "But do you know what happened in the end, Harry?"
His pale white hand wrapped around his wand as Voldemort's eyes narrowed.
"Death came for her."
"My Lord."
Voldemort turned, facing a masked figure as they appeared beside him in a cloud of smoke.
"We have established the perimeter." The figure decreed. "They shall not escap—"
The man gasped as he was suddenly hoisted into the air, a dark force clamping around his neck.
"They shall not escape?" Voldemort hissed, his eyes boring into the suffocating figure. "They have already escaped you once, you fool. Your words of assurance mean as little to me as your life."
The death eater attempted to respond, but only strangled cries left his throat. With a low growl, Voldemort waived his hand and the magic gripping the man's throat disappeared.
"Fail me again and I will have your family flayed." The Dark Lord sneered as the man desperately gasped on his knees, breath refilling his lungs. "You will find them and until you do—"
Voldemort stopped short as a loud metal clang resonated behind him. In a blur, the Dark Lord dashed towards the source, wand ablaze with magic, only to witness the cauldron of his rebirth seem to roll slightly as he heard a cry from inside.
"Now, Viktor!"
Slowly, the cauldron tilted from its spot, it's opening rolling with a loud groan of metal before a surging gust of wind suddenly shot out the opening. Dirt and granite were blasted away by the relentless blast of air that suddenly erupted from inside the cauldron before, with a second blast, another column of air joined the first.
Voldemort raged.
"The Cauldron!"he roared, a sickly green spell flying from his wand and blasting a small chunk in the wrought iron vessel. "Stop them!"
Spells suddenly erupted, rebounding off the cauldron with a furious clanging sound. The metal chipped slightly, but maintained its structure even as a barrage of magic descended on it.
When a third blast from inside the cauldron erupted, joining the other two, the vessel shot like a rocket into the graveyard. A torrential column of air careened from the opening, sending the cauldron smashing through gravestones like they were powder. Inside, Harry's body trembled as he desperately tried to cling to the insides amidst the concussive force erupting from his, Cedric's and Fleur's wands. Viktor, the only person not casting, panted in near exhaustion as he stretched his arms across the opening, preventing any of them from falling out of the impromptu rocket.
The cauldron groaned and creaked as hairline cracks slowly etched their way like spider webs through the inside as the blasting finally fizzled from the trio's wand, momentum sending them careening through a full-sized mausoleum. The massive structure proved to be the metal's match, the cauldron finally shattering as it plowed through, sending the champions rolling amongst the debris.
Harry tumbled, slamming his back into a gravestone with a dull thud. Rattled, he grunted, propping himself up slowly with his elbow as the world slowly stopped spinning in his mind.
"G-Guys?" he coughed, suddenly aware of a deep pain in his chest. "Anyone?"
"Arry!"
Harry whipped his head around to the voice behind him, finding Fleur waving desperately twenty meters away. Settled in her lap, she limply held up the Twi-Wizard cup, pointing desperately to it. Next to her, a bleeding Krum pulled a still dazed Cedric towards Fleur.
Summoning his remaining strength, Harry staggered to his feet and began a slow shuffle towards the cup. His heart pounding as his vision seemed to begin to darken with each step while his blistered arm hissed at the movement.
Time seemed to slow down as Fleur frantically waved him to come faster as Viktor tried to shake Cedric back to his senses. Harry's own feet trembled violently as he trudged forward.
And then a chill.
"NO." came a thunderous roar from behind him. Harry turned his head to find a massive cloud of blackness, crackling and churning like a thunderhead, surging towards him from where they had run. At its front, the pale specter of Voldemort's fury.
"YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE ME, HARRY POTTER." The Dark Lord boomed as Harry turned, forcing his battered body forward through sheer force of will. Spells suddenly cracked and sizzled past his head, blasting small holes in the area around him.
"Faster!" Fleur cried, desperately reaching out her arm as the other clung to the cup for dear life. Harry felt the blood pound through his ears as another green curse nearly grazed his shoulder. Harry lurched, bursting into the closest thing his body could produce to a sprint, desperately reaching out for Fleur's outstretched hand.
"NO!" Harry heard Voldemort roar, enraged as the dark storm suddenly surged behind him. Harry shoved every ounce of adrenaline he had left into his legs and lunged desperately for Fleur. Just barely, his hand wrapped around hers and locked onto her forearm.
But, just as he reached the witch, Harry gave a muted scream as a searing hot pain shot into his left arm. It burned with a dark heat that wrapped around his biceps, almost like something had grabbed hold.
"Wait!" Harry cried out, but it was too late.
"Portus!" Fleur screamed, and suddenly the world dropped out from beneath them, Harry feeling it twist through his navel. Before he could blink, the dull greys of the graveyard were replaced with surrounding tents and grandstands. But Harry couldn't focus on that.
All he could feel was a searing pain wrapped around his arm as a band erupted into song and a camera flashed.
Then someone screamed.
Hey all. Been a hot minute! Hope you're all doing awesome. Nothing's ever dead, it's just very hard to think of sometimes. Let me know what you think, I always love hearing from y'all. Till next time!