Chapter 17. The Sneaky Snake, the Hidden Lion
- Where are we? - Harry wondered, looking around.
Cedric shook his head silently.
- Did anyone tell you that the Goblet is a portal? - he asked.
- No, they didn't, - Harry replied.
- It looks like some kind of graveyard, - Jeanne noticed. - It doesn't resemble the next stage of the task at all.
- Should we get our wands out? - Cedric suggested.
She noticed a silhouette approaching them.
- Look, someone's coming, - Harry said.
Harry's scar exploded with unbearable pain. His wand slipped from his hand, and he fell onto the grass, as if struck down. Jeanne picked up his wand and hid it in her pocket, calling out to Cedric:
- Quickly, into hiding!
They both grabbed Harry and dragged him behind the nearest bush.
- What happened? - a cold, piercing voice asked.
- My Lord... there's nobody here, only the portal! - the short one whimpered. - I can't understand how this could have happened...
- Find him! - the same piercing voice ordered. - I sense that the boy is somewhere very close, and he is not alone! Kill the extras!
- So it's like that? - Cedric whispered. - They're not wasting any time on us. I hope it's just a joke...
- And was the dragon a joke too?
- But the dragon was being watched by the handlers...
- And that didn't stop it from burning you.
Cedric thought for a moment.
- Let's assume this isn't part of the task.
- And what did you think? - Jeanne replied. - Someone has orchestrated all of this!
- Another conspiracy within Hogwarts? - Cedric was surprised. - It can't be! And who would dare...
- And why do you think we and Harry were chosen to participate in the Tournament?
- But I thought, when they caught fake Moody...
- Dumbledore warned us! The Dark Lord is taking a gamble, and someone enchanted the Goblet at his command!
- But why?
- And what do you think? He wants to come back.
Cedric was stunned by these words, and his jaw dropped. It was incomprehensible to him how Hogwarts, once the safest place on Earth, had turned into a refuge for traitors.
- Ready for an unplanned duel? - Jeanne asked.
- Are you kidding? - Cedric smiled. - I won't go down that easily to them! And I... - his eyes widened for a moment, then Cedric's face took on the most serious expression he had ever shown. - Whoever he is, whatever he does, I will do everything to stop him. I swear on my life and honor.
With these words, he raised his wand in front of his face.
- Then let's go.
Cedric responded with a smile to those words, and his eyes burned with determination.
- Harry, can you walk? - Cedric asked.
Harry nodded uncertainly, and Cedric took him by the hand. As Harry stood up, he saw the short figure wandering through the graveyard. The figure pushed back the hood, wanting to get a better look around, and Harry recognized him. It was Tail.
- You... - Harry whispered.
- You know him? - Cedric was surprised. - How?
- A long story, - Harry replied.
The scar still hurt a lot, so he closed one eye from the pain and looked at what was happening with his other eye half-open.
- Who is it, Harry? - Jeanne asked.
- Wormtail... Peter Pettigrew!
- But he died! - Cedric exclaimed. - They printed it in the Prophet!
- He's not dead at all! He framed Sirius Black to hide the fact that it was him who betrayed my parents! He was the secret-keeper! He's an Animagus and hid under the disguise of Ron's rat, Scabbers!
Cedric listened to him with his mouth wide open. Judging by his face, it was beginning to sink in.
- And last year Trelawney made a prediction that Vold- he paused, seeing Cedric flinch. - That Lord Voldemort's servant would return and help him rise again.
Cedric looked lost. The familiar world he knew had just crumbled, and everything he knew had lost its significance.
- But what is he going to do now?
- Mr. Crouch was held captive by Voldemort, Jeanne said. - He said that Voldemort needs the flesh of a servant, the blood of an enemy, and the bone of the father to be reborn. As far as I understand, all the necessary components are already here, and he can't wait to get Harry's blood.
- But why Harry specifically? - Cedric wondered.
- You can ask him yourself. All I know is that it has something to do with a certain immunity against him that his mother gave him by sacrificing herself that fateful night. I don't know anything else about it.
- I see. Voldemort won't get your blood, Harry. Harry? - Cedric shook his friend's shoulder, noticing that his gaze was focused on one spot. He continued watching what Wormtail was doing.
Wormtail ran around the graveyard, searching for Harry.
- Don't dawdle, Wormtail! - ordered the mysterious voice. - Start preparing. The beast will come to the hunter on its own. And if it doesn't, Nagaina will find it.
Looking where Harry was looking, Cedric was amazed to see a huge snake swiftly slithering among the gravestones and monuments.
Wormtail dragged a huge stone cauldron and placed it near the statue of a skeletal death with a scythe. Next to it, he placed a mysterious bundle in which something was barely moving. Harry and Cedric guessed it was a baby, as it seemed to resemble a newborn. Wormtail lit a fire under the cauldron. It didn't take five minutes for the liquid in the cauldron to boil and shoot up crimson sparks as if it, too, had caught fire.
- Hurry up! - a piercing voice urged Wormtail from the bundle.
The simmering surface of the liquid turned entirely into sparks and sparkled, as if studded with diamonds.
- Everything is ready, Master.
- It's time... - the icy voice uttered.
Wormtail unwrapped the bundle without lifting it from the ground; if Harry hadn't had a black gag in his mouth, the sight would have made him let out a piercing scream. It was as if Wormtail stumbled upon a stone and turned it out from the ground, revealing something like a slippery blind worm, no, a million times worse. The creature brought to the graveyard by Wormtail resembled a twisted baby. But only in its outline, in everything else, it was nothing like a human child. A scaly, hairless body the color of raw flesh, weak, thin arms and legs, and a face - not a single human baby ever had a face like that - flattened, like a snake's, with shiny reddish slit eyes.
The creature seemed almost helpless. It reached out its arms towards Harry, embraced his neck, and Harry lifted it up. In that moment, Harry noticed a look of extreme disgust on the pale face of the creature. Harry lifted his burden over the cauldron, and the sparks dancing on the surface of the liquid briefly illuminated its flat, sinister face. Harry lowered the creature into the cauldron and it disappeared with a hiss. Harry heard the soft thud of its body hitting the stone bottom of the cauldron. Let it drown, echoed in Harry's mind. His scar tore with unbearable pain... Please... Let it drown... And then, Hagrid spoke. His voice trembled, betraying panic and fear. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and with difficulty said, "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, resurrect your son!"
The ground near the ominous Death statue opened up, and a thin stream of dust flew out and, following the wand's movement, dove into the boiling liquid. The shimmering surface hissed, cracked, and sparks scattered, turning the liquid in the cauldron a poisonous blue. Hagrid, whimpering in horror, pulled out a long, thin silver dagger from under his cloak and spoke again, this time accompanied by hysterical sobbing with each word:
"Flesh...of servants...willingly given... resurrect... your...enemy!"
He extended his right hand, the one missing a finger, tightly gripped the dagger in his left hand, and swung it. At that moment, Jeanne leaned forward, covering her eyes with her hands, as did Cedric and Harry. But even without seeing what was happening, Harry heard a mad scream that pierced his heart, as if Hagrid had struck him with the dagger. Something fell with a thud on the ground, Hagrid gasped for breath, and immediately there was a splash of potion, causing Harry to feel nauseous. He couldn't open his eyes... but even through closed eyelids, he saw the potion turn crimson red... Hagrid sobbed and whimpered in pain. He looked around helplessly, but still spoke again.
"Blood... of foe... forcibly taken ... revive ... your... opponent!"
Still gasping in pain, Hagrid pulled a glass vial out of his pocket and held it against his own wound, and the vial quickly filled. Staggering, Hagrid returned to the cauldron and poured the blood into it. The liquid instantly turned dazzlingly white. Now that the potion was ready, Hagrid fell to his knees and immediately collapsed onto the ground. He lay curled up, cradling the bloody stump, and quietly groaned. The cauldron bubbled, sparks flew in all directions, plunging everything around into impenetrable darkness. Nothing happened... Let it drown, let there be a mistake, Harry prayed. But the sparks went out, a pillar of white steam rose from the cauldron, thickening, and Harry could no longer see Hagrid - steam enveloped everything. The potion had failed... he drowned... please... please... let him die... Now, in the cloud of steam rising from the cauldron, the outlines of a tall, thin, skeletal figure began to appear, and Harry was washed over with a chilling wave of horror. "Clothe me," he said, his voice piercing Harry's heart. Sobbing and holding the disfigured hand against his chest, Hagrid struggled to his feet, picked up a black cloak with a hood from the ground with his left hand, and pulled it over his head and the shoulders of his master with one hand. The living skeleton stepped out of the cauldron onto the ground, never taking his eyes off Harry. And Harry couldn't look away from the pale, death-like face. For three years, those red, malevolent eyes, the dull snake-like nose, the narrow slits of nostrils had haunted him in nightmares...
Lord Voldemort was reborn.
Voldemort first began to examine his new body, paying no attention to the whimpering Tail lying on the ground or the snake crawling nearby. Next, he deceived Tail's expectations. Asking him to give him a hand, he immediately disappointed his only loyal servant by taking his entire hand. Then Harry noticed the Dark Mark tattoo on it. Voldemort touched it with his index finger, paying no attention to Tail's groans as he continued to mourn the loss of his hand.
With an expression of malicious satisfaction, Voldemort straightened up and looked around. A moment later, extreme dissatisfaction appeared on his face.
"You deceived me! There's no Harry Potter here!" He pounced on Tail, grabbed and lifted him off the ground, then stared into his eyes with his cold, unblinking gaze. "Whose blood resurrected me, Tail?"
Wormtail barely breathed, afraid to make a sound, with sweat streaming down his face. "She's mine..." Tail murmured barely audibly.
With a single motion of his hand, Voldemort released Tail, causing him to crash loudly onto the ground and start sobbing again. Judging by his face, Voldemort was searching for a reason not to kill Tail on the spot for this mistake, but couldn't find one.
"Well, what went wrong?" Cedric whispered, displaying irony on his face.
Dark figures of wizards in masks began to appear around Voldemort. The Death Eaters had arrived.
"Welcome, Death Eaters," Voldemort said quietly. "Thirteen years... thirteen years have passed since our last meeting. Yet you answered my call as if it were yesterday... so the Dark Mark still binds us all? Or not?"
He tilted his horrible face towards the sky again and inhaled loudly. His nostrils flared.
"I smell guilt," he said. "The air reeks of guilt."
Those standing in the circle trembled again, as if each of them wanted but dared not take a step back.
"I see you are alive and well, your powers have not diminished - you arrived so quickly! - and I wonder... why hasn't this group of wizards come to the aid of their master, whom they swore eternal loyalty to?"
No one said a word. No one moved, except for Tail, who lay on the ground sobbing and cradling his bleeding stump.
"And I answer," Voldemort continued in a hissing whisper, "they must have believed that I was defeated, that I was dead. They returned to the ranks of my enemies and claimed innocence, that they knew nothing, that they were bewitched... And I wonder: how could they have believed that I wouldn't rise again? Those who knew how I defended myself against death? Those who saw with their own eyes the proof of my immeasurable power when I was the most powerful of all wizards? And I answer: perhaps, they believed that there was an even more powerful force that could destroy even Lord Voldemort... perhaps, they now swear loyalty to someone else... perhaps, to this defender of Mudbloods and simpletons, Albus Dumbledore?"
At the mention of Dumbledore's name, those standing in the circle stirred, murmurs were heard, some shook their heads. Voldemort didn't pay any attention to them. "I am disappointed... I confess, I am very disappointed..." One of the Death Eaters unexpectedly rushed forward and fell at Voldemort's feet. His body trembled.
"Master!" he shouted. "Master, forgive me! Forgive all of us!"
Voldemort laughed and raised his wand, saying, "Crucio!"
The Death Eater began writhing and screaming in pain. Harry was sure that the villagers couldn't help but hear those cries... let the police come, a desperate thought flickered through his mind... anyone... anything... Voldemort raised his wand again. The tormented Death Eater stopped writhing and lay on his back, breathing heavily.
"Get up, Avery," Voldemort said quietly. "Get up. You begged for forgiveness? I do not forgive. And I do not forget. Thirteen long years... Thirteen years of faithful service... and then, perhaps, I would ask for your help... But now, Tail has already paid part of his debt, isn't that right, Tail?"
He glanced at Tail, who continued to sob.
"You came back to me not to prove your loyalty. You came back because you were afraid of your old friends. You deserved this pain, Tail. And you know it, don't you?"
"Yes, master," Tail whimpered. "Please, master... I beg you..."
"And yet you helped me regain my body," Voldemort said coldly, watching Tail sobbing on the ground. "No matter how useless a traitor you may be, you still helped me... and Lord Voldemort rewards those who help him... But... not this time, Tail. Before you receive your reward, you must pay for your mistake. You see, my dear, Tail cruelly deceived your Lord and resurrected me not from Harry Potter's blood, but from his own. What do you think, is Tail worthy to be considered my greatest enemy? Crucio!"
Tail screamed in unbearable pain amidst the laughter of the Death Eaters. Harry couldn't imagine how much pain Tail was experiencing right now, to scream with a voice that was not his own. At that moment, he truly felt sorry for Tail.
Over the next few minutes, Voldemort tortured the Death Eaters, circling around them. Occasionally, he resumed torturing Tail, making jokes at his expense that made the Death Eaters double over with laughter, while these jokes became increasingly malicious and biting. Finally, thoroughly indulging in their suffering and pain and seeing Tail lying on the ground, barely breathing and not making any sounds, Voldemort leaned over him.
"Pray for my mercy, Tail!" he said.
Tail continued to lie there, drooling from the unbearable pain.
Voldemort raised his wand again and waved it. A trail of molten silver hung in the air. After a moment, the formless trail turned into a sparkling replica of a human hand. Shining in the darkness like the moon, the hand immediately descended and fused with Tail's bloodied wrist. After a couple of moments, Tail regained consciousness. Breathing heavily, he lifted his head and, unable to believe his eyes, looked at the silver hand that was perfectly connected to his own hand, as if he was wearing a dazzling glove. He bent and straightened the silver fingers, and then tremblingly picked up a twig from the ground and turned it into dust.
"My Lord," he whispered. "Master... it's beautiful... thank you... thank you..."
He crawled through the mud towards Voldemort and kissed the edge of his cloak.
"And may your faithfulness be unwavering, Tail," Voldemort said.
"Of course, my Lord... forever, my Lord..." Tail stood up and took his place in the circle. He couldn't take his eyes off his new hand, and his face shone with tears. Then Voldemort began to tell the Death Eaters about the reasons for his downfall and his future destiny.
"Maybe we should get out of here while we still can?" Cedric suggested.
"But how? The cup is right there next to him..." Harry objected.
Voldemort closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"I can sense it - Potter is somewhere here!" he said, opening his eyes and giving the surrounding people a look filled with pure hatred and malice. "Find and bring me this scum!" he ordered. "He will pay for daring to come into the world..."
"They will notice if we use attracting charms to lure the Cup," Jeanne remarked.
- Then we'll break through, there are no other options," said Cedric. "On the count of three, Harry? Huh? One!"
Harry nodded uncertainly.
"We'll break through, Harry," Jeanne assured him. "You'll see."
"It's easy for you to say, you can take on ten seventh-year students on your own."
"Two!" Cedric counted.
Jeanne smiled flirtatiously.
"Then you have nothing to fear."
"Three!"
"Stupefy!" Harry shouted, leaping out from behind the tombstone. His spell hit someone's curious head, who had approached their hiding place in search of Harry.
Two other spells hit a couple of Death Eaters. Voldemort didn't seem impressed.
"Harry!" he feigned delight. "You've grown so much in the past couple of years... and you've brought friends with you. Do you think you can play with me, kids? Let's play. Avada Kedavra!"
The green beam of his spell killed a tree, and Cedric barely managed to duck.
"How are you?" Harry asked.
"I'm fine. My life just flashed before my eyes. Don't hesitate, Harry. We'll get out of this, we'll win. Someone will definitely notice our absence and come to our rescue."
"Come on, Harry, come out!" Voldemort taunted. "Don't be such a coward! Even your dear daddy was much braver than you! I challenge you to a duel, don't make me wait!"
Harry didn't even understand how it happened. He jumped up and walked straight towards Voldemort, ignoring Cedric's whisper of "don't do it, Harry!" Harry didn't care.
Voldemort took a slow step forward and turned to face Harry Potter. He raised his wand.
"Crucio!"
The pain was unbearable; it felt like his bones were about to melt and his head was about to explode into pieces; his eyes were spinning madly in their sockets, and all Harry wanted was for this agony to stop... to forget... to die... And suddenly it was all over. He lay weakly in front of Voldemort, surrounded by Death Eaters, while his two friends, whom he had gone through the Triwizard Tournament with, hid behind the gravestones. Before him, in a haze, burned blood-red eyes. The laughter of the Death Eaters deafened him.
Maybe for a fraction of a second, the thought of escape crossed Harry's mind, but the Death Eaters tightened the circle around Harry and Voldemort so that there were no empty spaces left.
"They taught you how to duel, Harry Potter?" Voldemort asked quietly. His red eyes burned in the darkness. A vague memory from a previous life came to Harry, about how he briefly attended the Dueling Club at Hogwarts two years ago... all he learned there was a disarming spell, Expelliarmus... and what good would that do, even if he managed to disarm Voldemort? He was surrounded by Death Eaters, at least thirty of them... He didn't know what could help him now. He knew that what Moody had warned him about so many times was about to happen - the irresistible curse Avada Kedavra... Voldemort was right - there was no mother here to die for him again... He was defenseless...
"We must bow to each other, Harry," Voldemort said, slightly inclining his head. His face was still turned towards Harry. "Come on, let's observe some courtesy... Dumbledore would be pleased to see your good manners... bow to death, Harry..."
The Death Eaters laughed. Voldemort's lipless mouth stretched into a smile. Harry stood, standing up straight. He would not let Voldemort play with him like a cat with a mouse... He would not give him that satisfaction before his death...
"I said bow," Voldemort repeated and raised his wand. Harry felt his spine curve as if someone was forcefully pressing him to the ground. The Death Eaters chuckled again.
"Very well," Voldemort said quietly, lifting his wand once more. (The pressure on Harry's back eased and he was able to straighten up.) "And now face me like a man... proudly, just like your father died... And now, the duel begins."
Voldemort swung his wand and before Harry could comprehend anything, he was hit by the Cruciatus Curse again. The pain was so intense that it seemed to engulf the entire world, making it impossible for him to even understand where he was... red-hot knives pierced every inch of his skin, his head felt like it was about to explode from the pain; he screamed as loudly as he had never done before in his life... And suddenly, it all stopped. Harry rolled onto his stomach and struggled to stand up. He couldn't stop the trembling that shook his body, just like he couldn't stop it when he cut off his own hand. He attempted to take a step, but staggered and collided with the wall of Death Eaters. They pushed him back towards Voldemort, laughing.
"A little break," Voldemort said. The flaring of his nostrils reflected his excitement. "A little pause... Does it hurt, Harry? You wouldn't want me to do it again, would you?"
Harry remained silent. In those ruthless red eyes, he saw his fate clearly—he would die like his parents... He would die, and there was nothing he could do about it... But he wouldn't dance to Voldemort's tune. He wouldn't submit to him... wouldn't beg for mercy...
"I asked you if you want me to do it again," Voldemort said. "Answer! Imperio!"
For the third time in his life, Harry felt all his thoughts vanish from his mind... oh, what bliss it was—not to think... it felt like warm waves were carrying him away, as if he were peacefully dreaming... Just say "no"... just say "no"... just say "no"...
"I won't," a resolute voice echoed in his head. "I won't."
"Just say 'no'..."
"I won't, I told you..."
"Just say 'no'..."
"I won't!"
Those words burst out of Harry's mouth, and the echo carried them throughout the cemetery. The pleasant state of half-dreaming instantly disappeared, and the sensation of pain, left by the Cruciatus Curse, returned to his body. Harry once again realized where he was and what awaited him...
"You won't?" Voldemort asked softly. "Won't say 'no'? Before you die, Harry, I must teach you to obey your elders... perhaps another small dose of pain will help?"
Voldemort raised his wand once more, but this time Harry was ready; his extensive Quidditch training paid off—he immediately fell to the ground, rolled quickly, and found himself behind the marble memorial stone at Voldemort's father's grave. The curse hit the memorial, causing the plaque to crack.
"We're not playing hide-and-seek here, Harry," Voldemort's quiet, cold voice sounded very close by. Another explosion of Death Eaters' laughter followed. "You can't hide from me. Maybe you're tired of our duel? Maybe you want me to finish it now, Harry? Then come out, Harry... come out and play... it will be quick... and maybe not even painful... I don't know... I've never died..."
Harry huddled behind the gravestone, thinking that it was the end for him. There was no hope... no help to wait for... Behind the nearest bush, he saw Hermione's eyes. Voldemort's footsteps grew closer, and Harry felt that he no longer feared. He would not die, cowering like a child playing hide-and-seek; he would not die on his knees at Voldemort's feet... he would die with pride, standing tall like his father, and trying to protect himself, even if it was impossible.
Without waiting for Voldemort to show his serpentine face from behind the monument, Harry stood up, tightly gripping his wand, and holding it in front of him, he rushed towards Voldemort.
Voldemort was prepared for this, and at the same moment when Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!", Voldemort cried, "Avada Kedavra!" A green light burst from Voldemort's wand, while a red light burst from Harry's. They met in midair, and Harry felt his wand vibrate, as if an electric current was passing through it. His hands gripped the wand, and he couldn't let go, even if he wanted to. Now, the narrow beam connecting the two wands was not red or green, but a piercing gold. Astonished, Harry followed the beam with his eyes, and saw that Voldemort's wand was also vibrating and shaking in his long pale fingers.
And then, something happened that Harry did not expect at all - his feet left the ground. Both he and Voldemort rose into the air, with their wands still connected by the shimmering golden thread. They flew away from his father's grave and landed in a clearing where there were no graves. Death Eaters ran after them, shouting and asking their master what to do. Then the Death Eaters surrounded them again, some reaching for the wands, a snake slithering at their feet.
The beam of golden light connecting Harry and Voldemort suddenly split into numerous thin shining rays. Their wands remained connected, and the golden threads wove around Harry and Voldemort, creating a sparkling dome of spiderweb. Soon, the duelists found themselves as if in a cage of light, and beyond the walls of the cage, Death Eaters prowled like jackals, their cries seeming to come from afar...
"Do nothing!" Voldemort shouted to his followers, and Harry saw his red eyes widen in surprise. Voldemort clearly did not understand what was happening, and now he was trying with all his might to break the golden thread that connected their wands. Harry held onto his wand even tighter, and the thread remained intact.
"Do nothing without my command!" Voldemort yelled to the Death Eaters.
At that moment, a beautiful, otherworldly melody floated in the air... it was emitted by each of the golden threads of light that vibrated around Harry and Voldemort. Harry recognized these sounds, even though he had only heard them once before... it was the song of the phoenix...
For Harry, it was the sound of hope... the most beautiful and desired sound he had ever heard in his life... he felt that these sounds were not just floating in the air near him, they were resonating inside him... this melody was connected to Dumbledore, and for a moment, it seemed as if a friend whispered something in his ear...
Do not let the bond break.
"I know," Harry replied to the music. "I know that I must not allow it..." but as soon as he thought that, it became much harder to hold onto the bond. His wand vibrated strongly... now it wasn't a beam connecting them, now it looked like huge beads of light sliding along the golden thread. Harry saw the beads moving from Voldemort towards him and immediately felt his wand angrily tremble in his hand. The closer the nearest bead approached him, the hotter his wand became. The wood in his palm heated up so much that Harry felt as if the wand would ignite any moment. The bead came even closer, and the wand trembled in protest. If the bead came too close, the wand would definitely not withstand it, it was already on the verge of shattering into pieces...
Harry focused all his thoughts on making the beads move in the opposite direction - from him to Voldemort. His angry eyes were fixed on the beads, the song of the phoenix echoed in his ears - and gradually the beads slowed down, stopped, and then flowed back... Now Voldemort's wand vibrated so much it was ready to break apart. Voldemort himself looked shocked and almost scared...
The first bead now trembled just inches from the tip of Voldemort's wand. Harry didn't understand why he was doing this, he didn't know what he would achieve... but now he focused on pushing that bead of light back into Voldemort's wand. Slowly... very slowly... a little further along the golden thread... the bead twitched and merged back into the wand.
Immediately, screams of pain echoed from Voldemort's wand... then Voldemort's eyes widened in horror as a hand made of thick smoke appeared from his wand and immediately vanished... the ghost of a hand, the one given to Wormtail, more screams of pain... then something big, much bigger than a hand, appeared from the tip of the wand, a grey entity made of dense smoke... a head... a chest and arms... the torso of an unknown wizard, seen by Harry in a dream during the summer.
The old man, whom Harry had seen once in a dream, just like Cedric, emerged from the wand... his ghost or shadow - it didn't matter what it was - fell to the ground next to Cedric's shadow. He straightened up, leaning on his cane, glanced at Harry, Voldemort, and the golden web...
"So, he's really a wizard?" the old man said, looking at Voldemort. "This guy killed me... show him, boy..."
The next head emerged from the wand... it looked like a female statue sculpted from thick smoke. Harry's hands trembled desperately as he tried to keep his wand in place. The ghost fell to the ground, got up, and looked at the battle unfolding before her. Bertha Jorkins' shadow stared at Harry, her eyes widened, and she shouted, "Don't let go under any circumstances!" Her voice, just like the voice of the old man, sounded distant. "Don't let him reach you! Hold on!"
She and two other grey figures now moved in circles inside the golden web, while Death Eaters ran outside... Voldemort's victims whispered encouraging words to Harry and hissed at their killer. Another head emerged from Voldemort's wand, and Harry immediately knew who it was... he had been certain of it from the moment he saw the ghost of that wizard... certain, because this woman was the one he remembered most often this night... The smoky silhouette of a young woman with long hair fell to the ground, stood up, and looked at him... Harry, whose hands were relentlessly trembling, stared into the ethereal face of his mother.
"Your father will come soon," she said quietly. "He wants to see you... everything will be fine... hold on..."
And he appeared... first his head, then his body... from Voldemort's wand emerged the tall, disheveled-haired silhouette of James Potter, just like Harry. Voldemort turned deathly pale with fear of his victims who circled around him. Harry's father approached him, looked at him, and spoke in the same distant voice as everyone else, but quietly enough so that Voldemort wouldn't hear:
- When the connection is severed, we'll stay for a moment... we'll give you some time... you need to reach the portal, it will take you back to Hogwarts... If anything happens, trust your friends, they will help you and never leave them behind. Do you understand, Harry?
- Yes, - Harry gasped, struggling with the wand that was slipping in his hands and could break free at any moment.
His face contorted with tension - he could barely hold onto the wand now.
- Do it now, - his father whispered. - Get ready to run. Go on...
- Go on! - Harry shouted.
In any case, he couldn't hold onto the wand any longer. He yanked it upwards with force, and the golden thread broke. The protective dome vanished, the phoenix song melted into the air. But the ghostly figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear. They closed in a ring around Voldemort, hiding Harry from his eyes. And Harry ran like he had never run before. He knocked down two stunned Death Eaters and zigzagged between the monuments like a hare. Curses followed him, but Harry dodged them and only heard the crack of tombstones. He ran towards the Cup, not aware of himself. His entire being was focused on what he was about to do...
- Stun him! - Voldemort cried out.
Harry dived behind the marble angel, ten feet from the Cup, and only saw red beams of light. The angel's wing snapped off with a crack. Holding his wand tightly, he jumped out of his hiding place and roared:
- Impedimenta! - Harry waved his wand towards the Death Eaters pursuing him. A muffled scream was heard, and Harry knew that he had at least one of them delayed.
There was no time to look back. He leaped over the Cup and once again threw himself to the ground to dodge the spells aimed at him. Harry reached out his hand and prepared to grab the Cup.
- Step back! I'll kill him! He's mine! - Voldemort shouted.
- Petrificus Totalus! - Cedric disarmed someone.
- You wish. - Jeanne said. - You won't intimidate me.
- Tarantallegra! - Harry sent Lucius Malfoy into a dance.
In one swift motion, she caught up to Voldemort and stood in front of his face.
- And what are you going to do to me? - she asked.
Voldemort aimed a curse at her, but she dodged so quickly and so high that Harry couldn't even imagine it. He remembered how Dudley watched the Olympic Games on TV, but even the champions of the Olympics didn't perform such jumps. The green beam missed her.
- Who are you? - Voldemort asked unfriendly.
- Just a bothersome girl seeking revenge.
Harry only blinked once, and he was horrified: Jeanne grew taller, and she was now wearing a set of black armor. His nightmares had come true. Jeanne leaped towards another Death Eater and struck him in the chest with her sword. Several Death Eaters cast spells at her, along with Voldemort. Jeanne jumped away from the beam. Harry still couldn't believe his eyes. He couldn't imagine people moving like that. Jeanne landed on a skeletal statue of death with a scythe. The statue cracked and shattered. Jeanne raised her blazing gaze and met Voldemort's eyes.
- Do you want to run away from me? Come on! - shouted the person, scattering spells in all directions. - Avada Kedavra!
Jeanne ducked from the next spell, jumped over the second one, traced an arc in the air to avoid the third, and somersaulted to bypass the fourth. She jumped and ran with the grace of a wild cat on the hunt. She could see her target clearer than ever.
- Petrificus Totalus! - Harry shouted, spotting another Death Eater nearby.
- Bombarda! - the person shouted, and Harry was thrown aside by the explosion. He didn't know how much time had passed before he saw Cedric's face above him.
- Are you okay? - Cedric asked.
- Sort of. - Harry looked around, waved his hands, and felt his face and body.
- Do you know...do you know what's happening? - Cedric asked Harry, pointing at Voldemort. He was literally dancing, trying to defeat Jeanne. With each attempt, he became angrier, and Jeanne shouted increasingly taunting phrases, imitating his treatment of Tail.
- He's toying with death. - Harry answered vaguely.
He knew he couldn't explain it to Cedric quickly and concisely now, but Cedric didn't need any further explanations.
- How about this? - Voldemort shouted.
He directed a beam from his wand into the ground, causing it to shake. Graves, monuments, tombstones, mausoleums - everything began to move. Even the Death Eaters were horrified by what they saw. Some of them started to run, trying to escape, while others Apparated to a safe distance. Only a few chose to stay by their leader's side.
- Pathetic cowards! Wretches! - Voldemort raged against them, sending spells at those who turned their backs. - Take this with you, traitor!
- We need to get out of here quickly! - Cedric shouted, grabbing Harry's hand with all his strength and pulling him along.
- Wait! - Harry intervened. - We can't just leave her alone like this! He'll kill her!
- Do you have a plan? I'm listening. What's the plan?
Harry remembered the ghostly faces of his parents that appeared in the shimmering cage. He looked down at the ground and replied:
- I don't know...
Behind them, a monument soared up to a height of thirty meters.
- Listen, if we die here together now, she's wasting her effort over there. - Cedric spoke to Harry. - Let's go, we may not have a second chance.
At that moment, Jeanne approached Voldemort himself.
- Crucio! - he shouted, missing his target.
His spell flew into the sky, and in the next second, there was a deafening whistle and rumble. An uncontrollable plane flew across the sky, obscuring the moon for a few seconds before disappearing into the distance.
Something inside Harry's soul seemed to break. He was mesmerized, staring at the distant glow of the burning plane, unable to look away. Only Cedric managed to overcome himself.
- Potter, how are you? - he asked Harry.
- He just shot down a plane... - Harry whispered in horror. - Did you see it? He shot down a plane! There were two hundred people on board...
- Harry, calm down! - Cedric slapped his cheeks. - If we don't pull ourselves together right now, we might join those two hundred deceased. We've gone through all the challenges of the Triwizard Tournament, all we have left is to go back... Harry!
- I...yes, I'm fine. - he replied, dragging Harry along. - I just didn't think...didn't imagine him being so cruel.
- Oh, Harry! - Cedric replied. - You don't know much about him! Where is that Triwizard Cup?
He looked around, but couldn't see the Cup anywhere.
- It should be here! Where did it go?
Jeanne took advantage of Voldemort's confusion and rushed at him from behind. He quickly turned around and cast a spell at her.
- Legilimens! - Voldemort exclaimed.
Jeanne saw herself on the stake, surrounded by flames. The last breaths, the last beats of her heart, screams filled with suffering and pain escaped her. The last moments of life...but was it her life?
In an instant, she saw herself leading the attack. She was surrounded by numerous warriors, great and powerful, clothed with authority and might, people dedicated to their cause and their belief in a bright and good future. Above her head waved a white and gold banner, under her feet galloped a loyal noble steed, her body was protected by shining steel armor, and in her hands gleamed a sword. With this sword, she pointed the way to attack. Unknown voices filled her head, guiding her - go there, bypass the English, break their formation from both flanks, let them doubt their leader and turn back to their England!
Jeanne looked at her loyal Gilles de Rais and saw Voldemort's face instead. She looked around, and all her comrades turned into Voldemorts. Lowering her gaze, she heard the familiar silence in her head. Then, a moment later, Voldemort's voice cut through:
- Oh, noble peasant, the Maid of Orleans! Almost her Majesty Joan of Arc, whose fate was to remain merely a hero of war and meet a martyr's death on the stake for the dauphin she crowned, who betrayed her. Just imagine the heights you could have reached...
Jeanne saw herself in a majestic hall surrounded by warriors led by Gilles de Rais, swearing allegiance to her.
- Great France under the rule of the envoy of higher powers... Even now, your contribution to world history cannot be overestimated. And yet... you are nothing, fighting for ordinary emptiness. Give me Harry Potter and I will spare you. Peasant from Domrémy.
Jeanne stubbornly remained silent. She closed her eyes and did not see new visions from the past that Voldemort tried to extract from her mind.
- Give me Harry Potter so that I can kill this traitor and restore balance... Then we will rule the new world together. I will give you a new army, which you will lead into battle, with which you will conquer the whole world, just give me this boy!
Jeanne dismounted, waved her hand with the sword held in it, and pointed it directly in front of her.
- I won't give him to you.
She opened her eyes. Her sword was stuck in Voldemort's chest, whose face expressed intense fear and extreme resentment. Regaining control, he raised his wand and disappeared, leaving only a small pool of blood behind.
Jeanne looked at the surviving Death Eaters around her with a scornful gaze. A second later, they all vanished into thin air, as if they had never been there. Sneering, Jeanne exclaimed:
- Damned cowards!
She knelt down, took off her helmet, and raised her face towards the moonlight, taking a deep breath and closing her large almond-shaped eyes. Her pale face with delicate features, framed by a lush hairstyle of thin silver locks, gently moved by the light night breeze, acquired calmness and tranquility in that moment, as if in a dream, and in this dream, it was particularly beautiful. For the first time in her life, she enjoyed the quiet beauty of the night.
Cedric emerged from the bushes with Harry in tow, walking unsteadily.
After a few minutes, they were whisked away in a whirlwind of colors and wind, Cedric and Jeanne returning home from here...