"Merlin's Beard! What is this place?!"

Moody was staggering around the console room of the Tardis, both his natural and mechanical eye growing wide as he took in the surroundings. Of course, he had experienced plenty of magical appliances that made use of being bigger on the inside, but nothing that compared to the majesty of the impossible blue box. The others were mainly ignoring him, leaving him to dwell in his shock, as they focused on the task at hand. Sirius and Lupin had obviously been in there before, though the latter hadn't been able to appreciate it too much on account of his episode . Dumbledore, as much as he knew about Matthew, hadn't spent as much time inside the Tardis as he might have liked. The boy preferred to keep it as much of a secret as possible. If the situation had been any different, the old headmaster would have enjoyed having the chance to look around.

"Welcome to the Tardis," Matthew proclaimed, though he was too busy looking at the monitor to watch moody flail about. It was a shame - he would have enjoyed watching the grisly man having his usually confident demeanour damaged. "I'd love to give you a tour but, as you can guess, we don't really have time for that."

"What's going on, Albus?" Moody marched up to his long-serving friend. "How does the lad have this place? If you ask me, he's not acting much like a kid right now. What secrets are you hiding?"

Matthew bristled at his comments. "I don't have the luxury of being a kid because my friends are in danger! I'd like you to be thinking about that instead of how daunting a prospect my home is."

"Although I might ask him to be calmer with his words, I suggest you listen to Matthew, Alastor," Dumbledore commented. "The time for questions will come later. As you know, not many of them will be answered but that's how the world works most of the time."

"I'm just trying to figure out how this is going to help us save Potter and the Granger girl," Moody argued.

"You just saw it appear in front of your very eyes," Matthew sighed. "Take a wild guess! Sure, it's a bit more cumbersome than apparition, but it gives us a bit more accuracy. Or it should do, at least."

Sirius leaned over his shoulder, trying to make sense of the readings. "What are you doing now?"

Lupin chuckled. "I don't think you'll be able to understand even if he explains it in great detail."

"I can give it a try! It's all to help Harry. I'd like to know what's going on so I can also be of assistance. That's the whole point of us coming along."

"I'm trying to latch onto their magical signatures," Matthew explained, ignoring their bickering. "They're already logged into the system so it shouldn't take too long to find them."

"And…if you have those readings, you can take us to where they're being kept."

"Hopefully. That's the plan, anyway."

"You don't sound too convinced," Lupin pointed out.

"It's just that the signal is really weak, as if it's being obscured. It's definitely not like how it's come up in the past. Maybe it's because they're further away…or it might be being purposefully obscured."

"Is that possible?"

"Well, any average sort of word would disrupt the aura of someone's magical imprint. But it'd take an especially strong one to throw the Tardis out of whack."

Dumbledore, walking up the steps to join them, was wearing a grave expression. "I dread to think of how much power someone must have to have pulled off this plan. There's only ever been one person with the ability, but also the foresight, to put something like this into motion."

Sirius drew himself to his full height. "You don't think…"

"Lord Voldemort has been attempting to restore himself to the full might of his powers for over a decade. It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest if he's succeeded. I had hoped that it would take him a considerably longer length of time to accomplish it."

"If you were worried that this could happen, why didn't you say anything?" Sirius' voice was more than a growl. "You must have thought that it might have been a possibility as soon as their names came out of the goblet."

"And if I'd thrown those concerns into the mix? How do you think the Ministry would have reacted? How do you think our foreign dignitaries would have reacted? I wasn't going to risk everything on a mere theory."

"Blast it, Dumbledore! The Ministry can go to hell for all I care! You put their concerns first over the safety of those two kids, and now they could be…I'm not even going to say it." Not when he was so close to finally getting that blissful life with Harry. They were only a couple of weeks away from moving in with each other.

"For all we know, this is simply speculation on our part," the headmaster argued. "There are plenty of dark witches and wizards that would want to harm Harry and Miss Granger. I can assure that there was no impression at Hogwarts of Voldemort's involvement. He wasn't the one to tamper with the goblet, if that's what you're thinking."

"Then who was?" Lupin wondered. "How could someone get into Hogwarts undetected?"

"Someone powerful and intelligent," Moody answered. "I put plenty of traps in place across the school and none have been set off. Apart from a few unfortunate students, but I was quick to clear up that mess before Minerva caught wind of it."

"You obviously didn't use enough of them," Sirius said.

"I'll point out that the goblet was at Hogwarts before I was. It could have easily been tampered during that period, meaning that my reputation remains untarnished."

"I don't think it's ever been that, Alastor. There's a reason why you retired from the force."

"And there's a reason why I brought him back," Dumbledore said sternly. "You know what sort of a man he is, Sirius. He's vigilant, to put it lightly. If something had happened, he would have noticed it. And you'll be glad to have his wand by your side if we're to face a fight."

Sirius nodded his head. "If there's one thing I can say about him, it's that he's damned skilled in that arena. I'm not foolish enough to dispute that, mainly because I don't know what he'll do to me."

"Coming from you, Black, I'm going to take that as a big compliment," Moody admitted.

"We can all pat each other on the back once we've saved Harry and Hermione!" Matthew growled, racing around the console as if he were actually chasing their magical signatures.

Lupin was growing concerned with his desperate behaviour, fearing that it signalled a major roadblock. "Have you been able to locate them?"

Matthew pulled down the lever with a great show of force, feeling the Tardis shudder underfoot. "Have some faith! It's faint…it's really faint…but I think I've got them." The ship was already moving, sending the others staggering around. Even Dumbledore, who was normally so composed in any given situation, seemed to be struggling to stay on his feet. "One piece of advice for the newcomers: hold onto something. Tightly."

xxxxxxxxxx

Harry didn't know whether he was feeling more despair as the Death Eaters appeared or whether he'd simply reached the limit of how much he could experience. Voldemort, for what it was worth, didn't appear particularly pleased with their arrival, even if he'd summoned them. Harry was left watching as the Dark Lord took it in turns to torture each and every one of his followers, insulting their lack of belief and servitude. Harry wondered why any of them had bothered turning up in the first place if they'd known that this was the likely outcome. It was pretty clear why most of them were there just by analysing their demeanours. They were shaking, with trembling limbs and nervous steps. Even with their masks on, it was like one could see how their faces were ashen and sweaty. They were there out of fear.

Harry could understand that sensation as he remained there, losing hope with every second that ticked by.

There were men there with names that were distinctly recognisable. Avery, Macnair…family names that cropped in the history of the war over a decade before. Harry wanted to be surprised at the presence of Lucius Malfoy. He might have thought that the Ministry's intervention into the darker side of his life would have made Dracos' dad more hesitant to come, and yet there he was. Bowing at the feet of Voldemort, appearing more terrified than all of them. Harry might have felt sorry for him, watching how he shivered whenever Voldemort went near him. Harry didn't have the capacity within him to pity the man after what he'd done over the years. As scared as they all might have been, Harry knew that they had brought this on themselves, whereas he had just been an innocent bystander.

Voldemort delighted in recounting his tale to his followers, recounting every step on his path to rebirth since Harry's mum had gotten in the way. He spoke of how old magic had ripped him from his body, leaving him in a useless state beyond life, but not quite death. He told them of Quirrel and his exploits in Harry's first year at Hogwarts, of how the young boy had thwarted him once more because of that magic too. There was a pattern emerging in his stories, of how Harry had been given only one weapon against him, yet it had been a truly effective one. Until that evening, in which the spell had finally been broken. Voldemort had demonstrated that in the most terrible of ways: by simply touching Harry on the forehead, which had made it feel as if it were close to exploding through the sheer pain he was being subjected to.

The Death Eaters listened attentively as Voldemort outlined the steps Harry had already been told. How Crouch sought him out, travelling halfway around the globe to where it was rumoured the dark wizard slumbered. How Crouch was able to infiltrate the Ministry, providing an abundance of information about the tournament, in which Voldemort designed a plan on how to ensnare Harry and his troublesome friends. How the goblet was manipulated and how the cup was transformed into a portkey. They listened with rapt attention, because they didn't dare ruin Voldemort's grand moment. A few of them were glaring at Crouch, Harry could see through the slits in their masks. Perhaps they were jealous that their lord was treating one of them with something akin to pride, though it was clearly hollow.

The most intriguing part was hearing about the attack on the Ministry in the summer. Voldemort almost praised his followers for acting so openly, before insulting them once again for running away from the Dark Mark. Cowards, he called them. Meak and pitiful. Harry remembered the chaos of that day, how everyone had been running about and into one another. It turned out that that had been exactly the desired effect, bringing the organisation into momentary downfall, giving Crouch the perfect opportunity to get to the goblet without being spotted. He may have been able to do so on any other regular day, but the plan had also made clear which people were still loyal to their cause. It brought home how long they'd been orchestrating everything, and how Harry had never stood a chance of avoiding this fate.

Removed from his bonds, Harry had considered plenty of times of subtly moving away whilst Voldemort waxed lyrical about his glorious triumph. Hermione was still nearby, just out of reach. His efforts would solely be focused on getting her out of there, ensuring that no one else needlessly died in his name. But there were too many eyes for him to move without being spotted. And his wand was further away, which he'd need to accomplish anything. Not to mention the fact that his body still felt like it was on fire after being subjected to the Cruciatus curse. Hermione wordlessly told him to stay put, to prioritise his safety first and foremost. It seemed like a silly request when his safety had already been jeopardised so much.

"Why the girl, master?" Harry heard one of them say. Lucius. He obviously knew Hermione's name, but was refusing to use it.

Voldemort's disfigured nostrils flared. "Do you dare question my actions? Crucio!"

Harry watched as the Malfoy patriarch writhed around on the floor, just as he'd been doing a few short moments before. Harry forced himself to keep looking, as if Voldemort wanted him to avert his gaze, to show a sign of weakness. But Harry wasn't weak, not like the man getting tortured. Lucius Malfoy had thrown himself at the feet of pure evil, and was now paying the price. Harry would always refuse to bow to such pressure, and that made him stronger than any of the men there. It was just that sort of strength wasn't going to help him if things descended into a fight.

Voldemort eventually stopped the spell, staring in disgust at the whimpering figure. "Lucius makes a good point though, even if he voiced it ineloquently." He strolled over to Hermione, who was powerless to do anything as he grabbed her face. "A muggleborn witch, walking the halls of Hogwarts. We should expect nothing less from that old fool, Dumbledore. She is here…as an example. She is here…to die, like every other Mudblood plaguing our society."

With a slick movement of his wand, the ropes around Hermione disappeared and she crumpled to the ground, breathing heavily. Voldemort prodded her with his foot, and she let out a small squeak of discomfort. Harry was growing angrier the more that he watched, edging ever closer. He knew where his wand was lying in the grass. It would take an elaborate jump and reflexes that he doubted he possessed, but he wasn't going to stand idly by as she suffered.

"Stay there, Harry Potter," Voldemort hissed, arching his neck to look at the boy. "Your thoughts are too loud. They shout your intentions to anyone clever enough to listen. You won't save her. She has defied me before, and thus must pay for her crimes."

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione assured him softly. Her cheeks were stained with tears but she kept her chin up defiantly. "And…whatever you do…don't blame yourself for what's about to happen. This isn't your fault."

Voldemort laughed cruelly. "Do you believe her? Do you believe the lies she sprouts? She is only here because you entered her life, Harry. Everyone like her will suffer the same fate…simply because they knew you. How does that make you feel?" He waited for an answer, but Harry was just gritting his teeth. The Death Eaters seemed to be closing in, forming a tighter circle as they waited with apprehension for the entertainment to begin. Even Lucius had staggered back to his feet in time for the performance. "Are you not going to answer me, Harry? How very…boring. I expected more from you…but it's no bother. Nothing you can say will stop this."

A wave of his hand and Hermione was brought to her knees. She saw his wand and closed her eyes in anticipation. Harry couldn't look away, his heart pounding. He didn't care about the men around them. He didn't care about the great snake hiding somewhere, ready to pounce. He didn't even care what Voldemort was going to do to him. All that mattered was that he was being forced to watch his friend die, being executed right in front of him. There wasn't going to be any late jump for him to grab his wand and attack. He was powerless.

xxxxxxxxxx

Even Matthew was struggling to hold on as the Tardis spun around wildly. It wasn't usually this chaotic, even more thunderous than when he and Hermione had raced to save Harry from a potential murderer. Dumbledore had fallen into the seats near the console, though that wasn't making the ride much more comfortable. The others were stumbling about, wrapping their arms around any railings that they could get close to. The Tardis kept groaning in disapproval at the way she was being pushed against her instincts, and it was taking a lot of effort to keep the ship as steady as was remotely possible.

"Come on…!" Matthew growled. "Don't lose it now! We're close! You can do this, old girl!"

"Do you need any help?" Sirius shouted.

"Nothing's going to help with this! We're on the brink of spiralling out of control!" Matthew managed to pull the monitor closer to him, frowning at what he read. "That doesn't make sense!"

"That doesn't sound too good," Lupin quipped, before almost falling over once more. "If you can't understand this, then none of us can."

"We've got their magical imprints, that's for certain. The Tardis can recognise them. The good news is that that means they're still alive. Although we obviously don't know how long that's going to last."

"I'm getting the sense that that's the only good news we're going to get," Sirius said. "Though it is the news that I was hoping to hear."

"We know where they are. At least the Tardis does. And yet she's saying that there's nowhere to land! As if this place doesn't exist! She can't materialise near to them because she doesn't think they're anywhere! It's incredibly annoying!" He hit the console as if that would help.

"Couldn't it be a result of the wards?" Dumbledore suggested. "They were able to obscure their signatures. Perhaps it is also interfering with the landing mechanisms…"

"Because it's distorting the location, not just their readings! Well, that certainly makes things more interesting."

"Does it mean we can't get to them?" Moody asked, having to raise his voice from his position on the lower platform.

"It means we can't land , not that we can't get to them."

"I'm failing to see the difference."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Whatever magic is in the vicinity, it's messing with the Tardis so much that she can't physically park herself where we'd want. But nothing's stopping her from crashing right into it."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Kill me instead! Harry pleaded desperately.

Voldemort only chuckled, looking at him but keeping his wand trained on Hermione. "He finds his voice once more. You're not as confident as just before, Harry. You'll get your turn. All in good time."

It almost happened in slow motion. Harry watched in a daze as Voldemort turned once more to his next victim, his eyes gleaming with a thirst for blood. Hermione remained still, refusing to look as death chose her. Harry heard the spell uttered, the dreaded incantation that he'd witnessed in his darkest memories from that fatal night his parents had died. Remembering that brought something to the forefront of his mind. Voldemort had claimed that the only reason why he had been protected that night was because of old magic. And that was the very thing Matthew had been trying to teach them, hadn't it? The sort of magic that he controlled, that people possessed but never used. It was just that Harry hadn't been able to tap into it as of yet.

It was a desperate occasion though. He saw the flash of green surging towards Hermione and, with nothing left to do, he closed his eyes and held out his hand. He concentrated his mind just as he'd been trained, focusing on solely one thing. He forgot about the tournament. He forgot about his lessons and his homework. He forgot about the Dursleys, even the prospect of living with Sirius in the summer. He forgot about Matthew and what he must have been doing right now. All he thought about what was protecting Hermione. That's all he'd ever want to do.

The first sign that something had happened was when he heard Voldemort shouting in frustration. Harry risked opening his eyes, tentatively looking towards where he knew his friend would be. Expecting to see her lying on the floor, he was more than relieved to find that she was still in her kneeling position, still very much moving. It wasn't even the most remarkable thing there, his attention brought to the shimmering dome of golden energy that was shielding her. It formed a barrier between her and Voldemort, evidently blocking his spell effectively. One of the nearby tombstones had been shattered, showing where it had been richoteted to.

Voldemort's first port of call was to try the spell again, screaming the words this time. But, just like the first time, it bounced harmlessly away. The golden dome seemed to flicker under the strain and Harry could feel himself growing weaker quickly. Hermione was watching him with wide eyes, choosing to stand up now that she wasn't being attacked. Harry could feel his body wanting to collapse under the pressure and the energy was slowly dissipating, only just giving her enough time to join him where he was standing. It was a relief to have Hermione by his side once more, touching her to make sure that she was actually real. The shield was gone, leaving the graveyard in its typical darkness after the show of brilliant light.

The Dark Lord could see his followers edging closer and he gestured wildly at them to stay back. "Keep away! Don't do anything unless your lord commands it! They are mine to kill!" He glared at the two of them. "How? How did you do that?"

There was something in his voice that was different now. Harry couldn't quite put his finger on what it was at first, before it slowly dawned on him. Voldemort sounded just like his disciples for a moment. There was a quiver in his tone, a slight vulnerability. It was well disguised and, if they hadn't been so intrinsically liked, Harry might have missed it. But it was there all the same. Fear. Voldemort was afraid. He'd sprouted a speech, announcing that any power Harry had against him had been neutralised, only to find that there was one last trick up the boy's sleeve. It was a trick that even Harry hadn't known was hiding there, but he wasn't going to complain about it finally showing itself.

He was just about to gloat, knowing that it was best not to explain what had happened so that they could preserve this slim advantage, when the air was filled with a distressing groan. Initially, it was hard to make out, as if the night sky itself was protesting the events unfolding underneath it. An almighty tear appeared in the inky black backdrop, and some of the Death Eaters fell to the ground in fright. Voldemort might have looked pale if his skin hadn't already been on the translucent side. Harry was just as petrified as the phenomena before the groaning became more distinct. More recognisable . He felt Hermione clutch his hand even tighter as she realised what it was too. And Harry began to smile.

Through the gaping hole fell the Tardis, careening crazily towards them. Its flight path was unpredictable but was distinctly heading downwards , making their eyes grow wide at the implications. They both knew how unreliable the ship could be at times, and just how mad the young pilot was too. With everyone else distracted by the unexpected sight, they dove out of the way, using a large slab of marble to protect themselves. Not that it would have done much if the Tardis had crashed into it, but they only had minimal options as it was. They clung onto each other, watching the ship spin towards the graveyard.

It collided with the large stone that had designated Voldemort's father's remains, destroying it almost completely. It took a few more large impacts to eventually slow it down, coming to a juddering halt at the other side of the clearing to where Harry and Hermione were hiding. The men had flung themselves to the ground in the hope of avoiding the strange object, though Voldemort had remained standing. He was looking less than composed however, firing off a myriad of spells at the ship. They all collided with the defences, fading into harmless sparks, which only served to make him more irate.

Everyone seemed to be waiting for whatever happened next rather than actively doing anything. It was quite anticlimactic when the Tardis doors swung open, creaking in their trademark fashion. Harry wished that he'd had Colin Creevey with them so that he could have taken a photo of Voldemort's face when the first person walked out. Dumbledore was strangely serene as he entered the field of play, in stark contrast to the chaotic landing they'd just endured. The headmaster already had his wand out, holding it casually. Voldemort appeared aghast at the development.

"Hello, Tom," the old man said, completely ignoring the other men.

Their attention was soon taken up by the others exiting the Tardis. Some of the visibly shrunk at the sight of Moody, the battle-scarred auror cutting an imposing figure. Many of them knew straight away who Sirius was thanks to all the posters that had lined the wizarding community the year before. He was grateful for them for once, since they seemed to have heightened his notoriety. Lupin stood by his side, the professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts perfectly suited for this situation. Matthew still hadn't shown his face for some reason, making Harry and Hermione start to panic, wondering what was holding him up. He had to be there - it wasn't as if any of the others could pilot the Tardis.

"Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed. "I'm so glad that you could join us on this glorious occasion."

"You're not looking too glorious, Tom," Dumbledore returned. "I'd say this isn't going as you'd planned. I apologise for throwing a spanner in the works."

"You're just in time to watch me kill your beloved prodigy."

"I'm of the thought that you would have done so already. I was worried that we might be too late. Alas, it transpires that you've had a few…difficulties. Perhaps you're not at your full strength yet."

"I'll show you my strength by finally being rid of you!"

He didn't announce his spell, but it was defended against all the same. Dumbledore would have been on hand to deflect it away, but the wards around the Tardis did the job for him. Voldemort took a step back, not quite in defeat, but something very similar. The Death Eaters were looking between themselves, as if they were debating what to do. Crouch was skulking off to one side, still recovering from his self-inflicted injury, but he had his wand out ready in case he was needed.

"So be it," Voldemort said. "You can defend yourself well enough. But you are still separated from your true goal. You won't be able to reach Harry in time."

The Tardis doors opened again, with Matthew now stepping out. Voldemort peered curiously at him, wanting to know how a mere child could be so calm in his presence. Matthew was smirking, something that not many people were brave enough to do when in his presence.

"Is that so?" the boy asked. He gestured back to the box, in which Harry and Hermione casually walked out of. They delighted in the shocked expression on their opponent's face as he looked back to where he'd thought they were. "A little trick that we used during the tournament. Neither dragons nor you can stop them from being transported away. We should thank you for getting us ready for this moment, in a sense."

Voldemort looked at them, then at his followers, and scowled. "I will return. You may have prevented the boy's death tonight, but you will not stay that lucky for long."

He swished his cloak and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. Thinking quickly, the Death Eaters copied his actions, fleeing the scene before they were captured. Harry thought he might have been annoyed at them getting away so easily, and yet could only feel a massive wave of relief that things seemed to be over. With the adrenaline in his body slowly fading, he was starting to properly feel the effects of his exploit. It was only through leaning on Matthew that he was able to stand upright.

Moody stomped clear of the Tardis' shields, kicking up some of the dirt. "The blighters scarpered! We could have filled Azkaban tonight!"

"That was never the intention of our endeavours," Dumbledore reminded him. "All we wanted to do was save two brilliant students." He smiled at the pair. "It appears that we have been successful."

"I don't know how to thank you all," Harry said, his voice tired and weak.

Sirius ruffled his hair affectionately. "You're rewarding us by just standing there. You can't imagine how terrified I was when we couldn't find you in the maze."

"That feels like a lifetime ago, to be honest."

"I'm sure you have a lot to tell us," Dumbledore said. "A most remarkable story, I bet. Perhaps it should be recounted in a much more comfortable setting."

"You're not talking about the Tardis, are you?" Lupin asked. "Because I don't think anyone has ever referred to that as 'comfortable'."

Matthew huffed, patting the box reassuringly. "Keep talking like that and you'll be walking back to Hogwarts."