Flesh, Blood and Bone
Arthur felt his feet slam into the ground and fell forwards; his hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. He then raised his head.
"Where the hell are we?" He asked.
Cedric shook his head as the two got up and looked around.
It was clear that they were no longer on the Hogwarts grounds, having travelled what had to hundreds of miles away through the Triwizard Cup, which had to have been made into a Portkey by Crouch Jr.
When Arthur realised that, he looked and saw that they were in a dark and overgrown graveyard with the black outline of a small church being visible beyond a yew tree to their right. He then spotted a hill that rose above them to the left and there was the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.
Dread and horror filled him as he and Cedric were sent to Voldemort.
Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then to a horror struck Arthur.
"Did anyone tell you the Cup was a Portkey?" He asked.
"This isn't part of the task." Arthur said grimly as he looked around the completely silent and eerie graveyard, keeping his eyes open for Voldemort and Wormtail.
"Wands out, then." Cedric said, sounding nervous as he and Arthur had their wands out.
That feeling that they were being watched came over Arthur.
"Someone's coming." He said.
Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched a figure draw nearer to them, walking steadily towards them.
Arthur knew it was Wormtail and based on how he's walking, he had to be carrying Voldemort. Wormtail wore a hooded cloak over his head to obscure his face.
Then several paces nearer, the space between them closed.
Arthur still kept his wand aimed at him, glancing at Cedric, who shot him a quizzical look. They both looked back to watch Wormtail
Wormtail then stopped beside a towering marble headstone that was only six feet from them.
For a second, all three just looked at each other.
But then, without any warning, Arthur's scar exploded with so much pain he screamed in agony. It was the most pain he had ever felt as his wand slipped out from his fingers when he put his hands over his face, knees buckled and now on the ground, seeing nothing as his head felt like it was being split open.
He then heard Voldemort's high, cold voice say "Kill the spare."
Arthur was now full of unbearable terror as a swishing sound was heard and Womtail said in a screeching voice "Avada Kedavra!"
A blast of green light blazed through Arthur's eyelids and heard Cedric's body fall to the ground beside him. The pain in his scar reached such a pitch that he now retched before it diminished.
So scared to see what he knew happened, he opened his stinging eyes and saw Cedric lying spread eagle on the ground beside him, dead.
For a second that felt like eternity, Arthur's watering eyes stared into Cedric's face, at his open grey eyes, blank and expressionless. His half opened mouth made him look surprised.
Before Arthur could try and process what just happened, he found himself being pulled to his feet.
Wormtail put down Voldemort, lit his wand and dragged Arthur towards the marble headstone. Arthur then saw the name upon it flickering in the wandlight before he was forced around and slammed against it.
TOM RIDDLE
Wormtail then conjured tight cords around Arthur, tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone.
Arthur heard Wormtail's shallow, fast breathing from his hood. Arthur struggled, wanting to punch Wormtail to a living pulp, but Wormtail hit him with his hand that missed a finger.
Having finished conjuring the ropes, he checked the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, fumbling over the knots.
Once he was sure that Arthur was bound so tightly to the headstone that he couldn't move an inch, Wormtail drew a length of black material from his cloak and stuffed it into Arthur's mouth.
Then without saying a word, he turned and hurried away from Arthur.
Arthur roared through the material in his mouth, so full of rage and fury that he couldn't hold it back. He couldn't see Wormtail as he couldn't see past the headstone, only able to see what was right in front of him.
Cedric's body lay some twenty feet away. And some way beyond him was the Triwizard Cup, glinting in the starlight. And his own wand was on the ground at his feet.
The bundle that Voldemort was wrapped in was at the foot of the grave. He was stirring fretfully. Arthur's scar was seared with pain once more, desperate to not see Voldemort himself.
Arthur then heard noises at his feet. He looked and Nagini, Voldemort's large snake, slithered through the grass, circling the headstone.
Wormtail's fast and wheezy breathing was growing louder again, sounding like he was forcing something heavy across the ground. He came back into Arthur's field of vision and he was pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave.
It seemed to be full of water, as Arthur heard something slopping around, and the cauldron was larger than any Arthur had ever used or seen. It was a stone belly that was large enough for a fully grown man to sit in.
Voldemort in the bundle of robes was now stirring more persistently, like he was trying to free himself.
Wormtail was now busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand and now there were crackling flames underneath. Nagini slithered away into the darkness.
The liquid in the cauldron was heating up very fast. The surface began to not just bubble, but also send out fiery sparks, like it was on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Wormtail, who tended to the fire. The movements beneath the cloak were now agitated.
"Hurry!" Voldemort hissed.
The whole surface of the water was now alight with sparks.
"It is ready, master."
"Now…." Voldemort said.
Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing Voldemort and Arthur screamed through the material that blocked his mouth.
Voldemort was in the shape of a crouched human child, but he wasn't a child. He was so unlike what Arthur had ever seen. He was hairless and scaly looking in a dark, raw, reddish black. His arms and legs were thin and feeble. And his face was flat and snake-like, with gleaming red eyes.
Voldemort looked almost helpless as he raised his thin arms and put them around Wormtail's neck as Wormtail lifted him. As he did so, his hood fell back and Arthur could clearly see the look of utter revulsion on his weak and pale face in the firelight as he carried Voldemort to the rim of the cauldron.
For one moment, Arthur saw the evil, flat face that was illuminated in the sparks on the surface of the potion. Then Wormtail lowered Voldemort into the cauldron resulting in a hiss before he vanished below the surface; Arthur then heard his frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.
Arthur was desperate for him to just drown as the scar on his forehead burned beyond endurance.
Wormtail then spoke with a shaking voice, like he was frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand with closing eyes, speaking into the night "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
The surface of the grave at Arthur's feet cracked and he saw a fine trickle of dust rise into the air at Wormtail's command before falling softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed, sending sparks in all directions, turning into a vivid, poisonous looking blue.
Wormtail then whimpered as he pulled out a long thin silver dagger from within his robes. His voice now broke into petrified sobs. "Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master."
Arthur watched, being disturbed, as Wormtail stretched his right hand out in front of him, the one with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger tightly in his left and swung it upwards.
Arthur closed his eyes before he heard the scream that pierced the night, which also went through Arthur as though he got stabbed by the dagger himself.
He then heard something fall to the ground and heard Wormtail's anguished panting before hearing a sickening splash, like something was dropped into the cauldron. Arthur glimpsed to see that the potion was now a burning red, the light shining brightly.
Wormtail gasped and moaned with agony. Arthur then felt his breath on his face, meaning he was right in front of him.
"B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe."
Arthur couldn't prevent it, being tied too tightly… squinting down and struggling helplessly at the ropes that bound him. The silver dagger shook in Wormtail's remaining hand and felt its point penetrate his right forearm, blood seeping down his sleeve.
Wormtail, still panting in pain, fumbled into his pocket for a glass phial and held it to Arthur's cut to catch a dribble of blood.
He then staggered back to the cauldron with Arthur's blood and poured it inside.
The liquid within now instantly turned into a blinding white.
Wormtail, with his job now done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron and slumped sideways, lying on the ground and cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.
The cauldron now simmered, sending diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness.
Nothing happened….
Arthur still desperately hoped Voldemort drowned, that it went wrong, only to be proven wrong.
Because suddenly, the sparks that emanated from the cauldron extinguished. Then a surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron, obliterating everything in front of Arthur, making him unable to see Wormtail or Cedric, or anything but vapour hanging in the air.
Then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with a surge of blinding hot rage and fury, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from within the cauldron.
"Robe me." His high, cold voice said. And Wormtail, who still sobbed and moaned, cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up and pulled them one handed over his master's head.
The thin man then stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Arthur, who stared back at him with his fury and rage making his thrash through the ropes that bound him.
Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes, and a nose that was as flat as a snake's, with slits for nostrils…..
Lord Voldemort had risen again.
Our first major loss... and Voldemort has risen once more. Things will never be the same.
