Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Nightmare Returns

"Uh…where am I? What happened?"

Those were the words that first left Cedric Diggory's mouth after Sirius had cast the revival spell upon him.

"You're in the maze of the Third Task," Sirius spoke quietly beside him. "It's important we know what happened here."

Cedric swallowed and slowly sat up, ignoring the stabbing pain in his head. "Harry told me to take the cup…he said he didn't want any more recognition this year…didn't want to be in the papers. I think he felt that it was time for someone else to get a reward. I didn't want to take the cup without him because we were both here at almost the same time. I stepped towards the cup, but then something slammed into me…I don't remember anything else."

Sirius bit his lip, worry filling the pit of his stomach. "Alright, thank you." He helped Cedric to his feet. "Hold onto me."

"Where are we going?"

"I'm apparating the both of us out of the maze," Sirius explained, and focusing his will he sent himself and Cedric to the beginning of the maze. Dumbledore was waiting for them and he quickly took Sirius aside, while Madam Pomfrey dealt with Cedric.

"He's gone," Sirius burst out. "Harry's gone. It was Wormtail."

Dumbledore nodded his head. "Then you know what you must do."

Closing his eyes, Sirius focused upon his Godson's mind. A door opened in his own mind, allowing him to step out of his body for only a second to assess the surroundings of where Harry was. He knew that something was stopping him from seeing where Harry was. Glancing around Sirius saw the edge of a graveyard that seemed to have an air of darkness about it. Beside him, a little arrow pointed to the right, leading down to Little Hangleton.

Withdrawing back into his mind, Sirius opened his eyes and gazed at Dumbledore. "I couldn't get through to Harry properly. There seemed to be dark magic in the air that was preventing me from knowing Harry's exact location. The Tracking Spell hasn't worked."

Dumbledore shook his head. "It does work. Dark magic is littered around the place where Harry is. Therefore you cannot exactly pinpoint Harry himself: however the spell reverts to the place nearest his location. What did you see?"

"The edge of a graveyard…but that seemed misted over."

"Then that is where Harry is."

"And Voldemort," Sirius growled.

His head was aching as consciousness slowly returned to him. He found that he couldn't move, for there were ropes tied at the bottom of his neck all the way down to his ankles, securing him so tightly that no muscle could be moved. His eyes blurred slightly as he struggled to discover where he was.

He was nowhere near Hogwarts; that was for certain. From what he could see, he determined that he was in a graveyard of some sort. He figured he was tied to a gravestone. Straight ahead was a cauldron, bubbling away in what looked like to be the centre of the graveyard. He could see two people walking around the cauldron, chanting away. Then one came up to him, their face obscured by the mask and using a dagger ripped his sleeve open, penetrating the skin. He felt a trickle of blood run down, and then the man was gone, holding a small bit of Harry's blood on the knife. He tipped it into the cauldron.

Harry realised that one of the men was crouching slightly, blood pouring from a stump, where his hand had been only moments before. He felt ill at the stomach. The cauldron bubbled ferociously and to Harry's horror something rose from it, encased in black robes. Hands were growing, its body expanding.

With a jolt of agony as pain ripped through his scar, Harry realised that the thing that had emerged from the cauldron, and was now standing in front of him, its red eyes glinting in triumph and from its mouth came laughter, was the reborn Lord Voldemort.

"Welcome, Harry Potter."

In order to allow Sirius, Moody, Kingsley Shaklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks and a few other Aurors to apparate to just outside the graveyard, Dumbledore lifted the charm that didn't allow people to apparate inside the Castle or grounds. The students had been told to wait in their common rooms. None of them knew what had befallen Harry.

"Are we all ready?" Sirius asked as he glanced at the others. They nodded. He had given them a vivid description of the place he had seen and told them to focus on that. Closing his eyes, he thought, picturing the place in his mind, and imagining himself moving into that place. His breathing became constricted and then he could freely breathe once more.

He opened his eyes and saw to his relief that all of them had successfully made it to the edge of the graveyard. In the distance they could hear the sounds of, what, could only be described as apparition.

Sirius swallowed, gripping his wand tightly in his right hand. He stepped forward, but a rough hand caught his shoulder, pulling him back.

"Not a good idea," Moody whispered.

Sirius raised his eyebrows but he then saw that Alastor was using his magic eye to see all around. He seemed saner then he had been in years.

"I see Potter. He's alive." Here Sirius exhaled in relief. "And a few robed figures…one is definitely Crouch Junior. Wait," Moody raised a hand, "more figures are appearing. His old supporters are there too."

"And Voldemort?" asked Sirius.

"He's there, fully formed in body too."

Sirius saw several Aurors trade glances.

"What do we do?" a young woman asked. She had a distrustful look in her face, as if she didn't believe what was going on.

"We attack," stated Sirius. He didn't really care about planning; he needed to get his Godson away from there and fast.

"Not without careful thought," interjected Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"We don't have any time to waste." Sirius was almost shouting, his fear for his godson overriding any common sense he still had.

Kingsley sighed, but looked Sirius right in the eye, speaking calmly as he laid out the foundations of a plan of attack.

To be continued...