DISCLAIMER! This Harry Potter story was written for fun. All rights belong to the wonderful lady (JK Rowling) who gave the world Harry Potter to read and enjoy. This story is just a castle built in the clouds for some enjoyment of readers.

The Triwizard Tournament's third task leaves everyone afraid of Harry Potter who is the lord of several houses.

This story concludes just days after the ritual in the Graveyard with consequences for Tom Riddle because he ignored or forgot important knowledge from his muggle upbringing.

Harry triumphs!

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The Maze

On the night of the third task, the crowd that gathered in the stands around the desecrated Quidditch pitch was smaller than hoped by the organizers. The cold and boredom of the second task at Black Lake in February was well remembered by the British public. Even memorial articles on the front page of the Daily Prophet reminding everyone of the tragedy of the Diggory deaths had not sparked additional interest in the third task.

The headmaster's attempt to mandate attendance was met with push back from the four heads of house and concerned parents. The students were not interested in another boring event – nothing matched the 'fear' and excitement in memories of the first task. And Potter didn't express an opinion either way about a race through the maze of tall shrubberies.

The three surviving champions met at the entrance to the maze where Bagman was fussing about the missing Bartemius Crouch, Sr.

"Where has Barty wandered off to this time?" Bagman fussed. "I haven't seen him in a month and after lunch he went to buy chocolates in Hogsmeade."

Percy Weatherby had been voluntold by Bagman to fill in for his missing boss as the fifth judge this evening and the recently hired Clerk for International Relations was determined to exceed expectations.

When time came to enter the maze, Victor entered first and five minutes later, Harry ran inside, met Victor and the two wizards began working their way around or through the obstacles and creatures. When Fleur entered last, she transformed into the magical Veela and began throwing fireballs at the hedges to burn her way through them and the creatures.

The pair of Potter and Krum had confounded the Boggart and moved forward in the maze when a chime sounded.

"That's the signal that my time and efforts have met the requirements for the task, Harry," Victor said. "This is where I leave you."

Nodding his head to acknowledge his friend's plan, Harry shakes the other seeker's hand. Victor continued, "I wouldn't have made it this far with only a single hand fighting by myself, so I'm in your debt again. And I don't think you'll have problems."

"What will you do now?" asked Harry.

"Go back to playing Quidditch full time," Victor replied. "With my hand restored by your venom, I'm saleable and photo worthy again."

The Bulgarian champion lifted his wand and cast sparks into the air. Professor McGonagall appeared and apparated Krum out of the mase. Leaving Victor Krum behind, Harry ran along the path ahead of him and discovered the next obstacle was a sphinx. The female creature grinned and began a battle of riddles with the Boy-Who-Lived.

Without too much difficulty (due in part to studying with Hermione Granger), Harry was allowed to pass through the maze. Off to Harry's left, he heard an explosion as Fleur Delacour threw fireballs directly into the maw of a charging Blasted-end Skrewt. The creature threw flames around the maze, setting fire to more and more of the shrubberies.

Harry turned a corner and found himself facing two giant spiders. But the Acromantulas were desperate to escape the spreading flames – they leapt against the warded shrubbery without much success. To aid the creatures, Harry cast a Finite Incantatem Maximus with his enhanced wand at the walls that were not on fire. This broke the ward and the spiders climbed away, to flee back to the nest deep in the Forbidden Forest.

No one stood between the young wizard and the Champions Cup that was set on a simple pedestal. Harry ran forward to grab the trophy, win the tournament, and escape the growing fire.

When his hands touched the trophy, he was pulled into a portkey whirling magic. The remaining hedges dropped away, freeing the creatures that had been held inside the hedges by powerful wards. The Aurors, professors, and visitors were busy dealing with the Skrewts, boggarts, sphinx and a few large lizards. In the bruhaha of managing the creatures, no one noticed that Harry Potter had not appeared on the judges' platform in the fifteen minutes since he'd grabbed the trophy.

~~~***~~~ CHANGE SCENE

The Ritual

In the eight months since he became a lord in Magical Britain, the family magics helped the Harry Potter navigate travel by floo flames, elf travel, and apparition. However, travel by portkeys remained a weakness for the young wizard. And this portkey was not for the short distance of less than fifty metres – the journey went on and on.

'Something's wrong for certain,' Harry decided and listened to three family magics – they were merging and would become one voice in his consciousness very soon. The Potter and Slytherin magics erased the Black family madness (a curse from the Slytherins five hundred years in the past). Black family magic granted metamorphic abilities to Harry (and his children). He just needed time this summer to master his new ability. And the Potter intuition was magnified by Slytherin healing magic abilities – Harry could diagnosis illnesses by concentrating his gaze at any wizard or witch.

Landing on the ground hard, Harry rolled out of the way of a stupefy spell. He rose and dashed away, staggering first left and then hopping right, he hid behind large gravestones. There was a deadly game of hide-and-seek among the stones for five minutes.

'Opponent is worn out by bad food, fitful sleep, fear, tension,' he decided. 'Smells like a dirty baby and…SNAKE!'

From the darkness to the left, a giant snake rushed at Harry and wrapped him in her coils in just three seconds.

"Nagini has him, Wormtail! My snake caught the powerful Boy-Who-Lived!" shouted a high-pitched voice.

The family magics demanded that Harry escape or command the snake to release him. But the Boy-Who-Lived decided to allow things to play out for the moment. When Peter Pettigrew appeared with his wand pointed at Harry, the betrayer cast a stupefy spell at the young wizard.

Harry returned to consciousness quickly without moving any muscles or a deep breath to catch the attention of his captors. He knew he was sore from multiple falls, but nothing was broken or strained. He opened his eyes slowly to find he'd been tied to a large monument that depicted an Angel of Death holding a large sword above her head.

The graveyard was extensive – hundreds of individual monuments spread around near an old church building. The snake lay curled up around a bundle of rags and blankets while Pettigrew busied himself with stoking the fire under an iron cauldron of fluid just beginning to boil.

'Iron? For a potion?' Harry wondered.

The Black family magic immediately told him, 'This must be a necromantic ritual. Iron spoils every potion.'

'Diagnosis the rat man,' ordered the Potter-Slytherin magics. 'He doesn't smell healthy!'

Harry's gaze confirmed the tiredness of Peter Pettigrew. 'He'll collapse in magical exhaustion before the night is over.'

The squeaky voice addressed the captive wizard, "Ah, Harry Potter, welcome to my resurrection! You are the guest who will provide the blood to amplify by my magic and nullify the magic your mudblood mother cast to protect you. I shall be able to touch you once Pettigrew completes my return to the living."

Harry debated the value of engaging in debate – the Potter and Black magics voted to engage while Slytherin counselled silence. The boy who lived said, "We both gained great amounts of magic from our muggle relatives, Tom!"

"Don't call me that name!" shouted the infant form. The infant homunculus threw a temper tantrum that lasted five minutes during which time Harry turned his gaze on the infant – there was nothing living in the body and the blood it contained was contaminated by snake venom.

While Tom Riddle continued berating his ancestors, all Potters who ever lived, Albus Dumbledore, and someone named Regulus Black, Peter Pettigrew summoned a large bone from the grave of Thomas Riddle – a muggle who died in 1940.

'Tom Riddle's father! That bone comes from the man's grave,' Harry realized as he scanned the dead bone. Even dead, the bone contained the information on the man's health at the time of his death.

The Potter-Black-Slytherin family magics blended together in those last minutes before Pettigrew began the ritual.

'Blood!' the family magic exclaimed. 'Magical healers ignore many laws of reality, but this is one that they've ignored too long! You can't blend incompatible blood types! We are type 0+, Peter Pettigrew's blood is type AB-, and the bone of Tom Sr will generate type B+! Those two blood types can't be mixed without causing kidney failure and other problems. And the homunculus is nothing but contaminated blood!'

'How soon would this blood problem kill the Dark Nut?'

'A few weeks if not days,' family magic replied. 'Worse for Tommie, his magic will fade away. He might even rise from the cauldron without enough magic to be more than a squib.'

'Won't the magic in my blood give him power?'

'Your genius mother's glorious protections will continue to prevent the thief from benefiting from your magic. Your blood is the universal donor, but WE will protect OUR magic!'

Harry fell quiet and ignored further taunts from the infant homunculus while Pettigrew finished preparations.

"Are we ready?" squeaked the infant form.

"Yes, my lord."

"Then begin Wormtail!"

Harry watched as Pettigrew's wand cast spells to grind the bone from Tom Riddle Sr and add it to the boiling cauldron.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will restore your son."

Then the young wizard stared disbelieving as Wormtail cut off his own left hand and dropped it into the cauldron.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will restore your lord."

There was plenty of blood spurting from the betrayer's arm until he cast a tourniquet spell to end the blood loss. Holding his injured left arm close to his body, Pettigrew shuffled across the graveyard with a knife in his hand. He sliced Harry's forearm and collected drops of blood that he hurried back and dropped into the cauldron.

"Blood of the enemy, unwillingly given, you will empower the Dark Lord."

Now Pettigrew hurried to lift the little homunculus with a single hand, remove the nappy and drop the figure into the cauldron. Tom Riddle cried, "Owe! You're hurting me! Damn you Pettigrew!"

Then the little figure disappeared before the surface of the potion in the cauldron.

"Rise Lord Voldemort! Rise!" cried Pettigrew though the wizard's command didn't remind Harry of the show he provided for the first task.

The cauldron bubbled lazily, and Pettigrew fidgeted before calling out again, "Rise Lord Voldemort! Rise!"

While Pettigrew's attention was on the cauldron, Harry noticed the wizard's tourniquet was fading – the frequency of blood drops falling from the man's arm increased.

A thin figure rose from the cauldron and Harry watched intently his family magics diagnosing the health of this new homunculus. There were blood and organ problems from the brain to the bottom of the feet – the skin was too thin everywhere! Long straggly hair hung limp around the creature's head, his eyes watered, and the voice was remained squeaky.

"Wormtail! What did you do wrong?"

The figure struggled to climb from the cauldron, but he finally managed to slip over the lip and fall to the ground. Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as blood loss and exhaustion overtook the wizard with the rat-like face.

"Robe me!" ordered Lord Voldemort but Pettigrew lay still on the ground. Grumbling about worthless servants, Voldemort searched through Pettigrew's pockets for a robe and for his wand. The naked homunculus found the wand first and then the robe.

Snickering to himself, Harry thought, 'The dark lord ain't going get it on with nobody this time around without the necessary equipment. Does this mean Pettigrew is a ball-less wonder too?'

Now robed, Lord Voldemort stood barely five feet (1.5 metres) tall. But the homunculus ignored his stature and look for the moment.

"Harry Potter! You witnessed the return of Lord Voldemort from the dead! Too bad you won't live to tell anyone," declared the creature. "For almost thirteen years I wandered the world in constant pain as a wraith! Now I have returned and once Magical Britain bows before me, the world will be mine!"

Raising his arms above his head, Lord Voldemort declared, "I shall live forever and rule the world!"

Holding back the scathing comments that bubbled up from his teenage mind, Harry remained silent and watched.

"Pettigrew! Wake up!"

The rat-face wizard mumbled but didn't gain consciousness. Frowning, the Dark Lord rolled the wizard over, pulled up the arm with the dark mark and pressed the tip of his wand against the tattoo.

"Come to me! Death Eaters, your lord summons you! Lord Voldemort has returned!"

There was silence in the graveyard. Lord Voldemort stood staring at Harry Potter, the look of triumph on his face slowly fading when no one appeared. The homunculus muttered once again about worthless servants before pressing a finger against the tattoo on Pettigrew's arm. He shouted, "Come to me! Death Eaters! My magic summons you!"

Desperate to continue his moment of triumph, Tom Riddle babbled his secrets. "This is my muggle father's grave! He restored me to life!"

"And my most loyal servant has poisoned himself by drinking Polyjuice for ten or more hours every day for the last year at Hogwarts! Did you know that your DADA professor is a Death Eater? Bartemius Crouch, Jr kept Alastor Moody captive in a trunk in his bedroom for a year and harvested his hair to power the potion!"

"And the old man never noticed my Death Eater sat at his table and ate every meal with him! Barty taught his dear little muggle borns and blood traitors! And tonight, my loyal death eater sent you to this graveyard to witness my resurrection and then die!"

The dark lord fell silent again while waiting for his followers to apparate into the graveyard. Harry slowly rubbed the magical ropes holding him captive back and forth against the stone arm of the angel. The ropes broke and faded away, but Harry didn't move his torso – he slowly lowered his arms to allow them to rest and return full feeling to them. He spotted his wand on the ground near Pettigrew – too far to summon or run to reach in time.

"I owe Krum another hand," Harry thought as his second wand slid into his left hand.

Pettigrew finally roused enough to be of some help to the homunculus, but the more aware that Peter became, the more Harry enjoyed the look on the rat-man's face. He imagined Peter thinking, 'What the bloody Merlin did I do? When the Dark Lord sees his reflection in a mirror, he'll cast the Cruciatus on me for an hour! I'll be a gibbering idiot like the Longbottoms!'

Harry noticed Peter kept an eye on the Dark Lord and the snake.

"Give me your arm, Wormtail!" commanded Voldemort.

Peter held up the arm without a hand and cried when the Dark Lord gripped it painfully, turned it over and once again pressed his finger against the tattoo and called out, "Come to me! Death Eaters and Magic that belongs to me! Come to me!"

There was a small spark of magic and Harry noticed Pettigrew frowned as if something ached suddenly. With his improved sight, Harry stared and noticed that a thin strand of magic flowed from Pettigrew to Voldemort.

'Pettigrew's magic? Does…?' he wondered.

Harry's now united family magic replied, 'Yes! The wizards bearing the brand of this fake wizard will lose their magic. The drain will be slow…possibly a year or more, but they will all be left less than squibs when Lord Voldemort finally expires.'

Across the length of Magic Britain, the wizards and witches who carried the Dark Lord's tattoo felt a twinge in their magical core. In Azkaban, Augustus Rookwood managed to raise his mind shield against the Dementors long enough to examine his damaged core. There was a drain now – small but consistent. He would remain a wizard for many months, but he would never see another June.

The imprisoned former Unspeakable dropped the shield and listened to Bellatrix singing about the Dark Lord returning and taking her magic. She screamed in her sing-song voice, "Use me my lord! Use my magic to live again!"

Rookwood explained to the other Death Eaters that he believed the dark lord was going to drain their magic slowly and painfully over the next year. He moved to stand close to the window in the cell door and told them, "I choose to die a wizard! Not a muggle!"

The others wondered what he meant until the Dementors floated down the hallway and Rookwood thrust his mouth through the window beckoning the fastest Dementor to approach, reach its hands through the window to hold the prisoner's head and administer the kiss. Rookwood's soul was sucked from his body and his magical core collapsed shortly thereafter.

Growing bored waiting for his followers to appear, Voldemort walked toward the Boy-Who-Lived, intending to touch him and torture him for a while. Behind the Dark Lord, Peter Pettigrew dropped to the ground once again and passed out. Harry watched the snake slither closer to Pettigrew, waiting for the man to die so she could crush the corpse and feast.

Staring at the Dark Lord as he walked closer, Harry summoned his family magics to flair his power around him. Tom Riddle paused with a finger reaching for the boy's cheek – a spark flew from Harry Potter to sting Riddle's finger. He pulled his hand back, uncertain what he faced.

[Nagini! Nagini come and bite the boy! Give him your poison…]

Harry shouted in Parseltongue, [Bite Pettigrew! Kill him!]

For a moment, Tom Riddle felt the urge to go and bite Peter Pettigrew but then shook off the command and turned to watch his familiar plunge her fangs into Wormtail – once – twice!

The snake looked up and hissed, [I shall bite all wizards! Kill all wizards!]

Fearing for his life, Lord Voldemort attempted to apparate and departed. However, he splinched himself, leaving his left arm behind. The snake lunged at Harry Potter before the young wizard commanded, [Die!]