Chapter 1 - 24th June 1995
Harry Potter, clad in his Gryffindor red Triwizard Uniform, had just grabbed one handle of the prized Triwizard Cup. The other handle was grabbed by Cedric Diggory in his Hufflepuff yellow Uniform.
Both boys had been unscrupulously selected to serve as competitors for Hogwarts, even though there was only meant to be one for the school among three.
The other two competitors were Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons and Viktor Krum of Durmstrang.
By now, both were inactive; they had each been stunned, Krum by Cedric, Fleur by an assailant Harry had yet to discover.
Viktor Krum had attacked Harry under influence of the Imperius Curse, and Cedric had saved him. Because of this, Harry had come to respect Cedric much more that night.
They had all been traversing a large hedge maze as the last of three tasks to complete for the TriWizard Tournament. With only Harry and Cedric left, both boys tried to persuade the other to take the cup himself and have his moment of victory.
Ultimately, they decided to take the cup together and share the victory. But once they grabbed it, the boys each felt themselves being pulled in a howl of wind and swirling color.
But now, they were lost in a graveyard, possibly hundreds of miles from Hogwarts' grounds.
They were hiding behind a couple of gravestones, barely covering themselves up. For they'd barely spotted a short, slightly dumpy figure in a hooded black cloak, hiding behind a large marble edifice.
It setting up a large object, round like a cauldron, while cradling a small, black bundle, about the size of a baby.
The boys were poking as little as an eye through through the gap between their gravestones, just to get a peek.
"I don't like the look of this," Cedric muttered.
"Nor I," Harry agreed. "Do you reckon it's part of the task?"
"Dunno," Cedric shrugged, sounding slightly nervous. "Did they tell you the cup was a portkey?"
"Nope," Harry exhaled, shaking his head. "Come to think about it… Why would they use a portkey cup in a school tournament? Doesn't exactly say 'Ministry Approved', does it?"
Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup, then back at Harry.
"Actually, that is good a point…" Cedric murmured.
Aside from their whispering, all was silent until the boys heard another…
"Make haste, they suspect us…"
"Is that trouble?" Cedric wondered.
"I think so," Harry exhaled. "This reminds me of when I found the Chamber of Secrets two years ago,"
"Merlin, you'll have to tell me about that later," Cedric requested with a curious stare.
"Don't worry," Harry tried to reassure him. "I've gotten into plenty of scrapes like this before…"
"So, what do we do?" Cedric queried.
"Never mind me," Harry insisted. "If you hear another voice, take the cup, get back to Hogwarts, get help…"
Cedric couldn't believe Harry's commands, but nodded, nonetheless.
But the figure whipped its head in their direction; it heard them.
"Kill the spare…" a high, cold voice rasped.
Harry grabbed Cedric by the shoulder, incredibly hard.
"Go now," Harry ordered.
"But what about…"
"Go!" Harry finished, throwing Cedric to the Ground. "And watch where you're going…"
Just as Cedric started crawling, the boys heard a swish and a screech screaming into the night,
"Avada Kedavra!"
A blast of green light blazed across Harry's eyes, straight for Cedric.
"Look out!" Harry cried.
Cedric was already within hand's reach of the cup when he noticed the green light.
He rolled on his right, but the cup was now a foot from him. Just as Cedric reached for the cup again, his forearm was pinned down. He looked up and saw the figure looming above, holding him down.
It waved its wand again,
"Avada Kedavra!"
But right before the last word, Cedric stretched out his index finger, wrapping it around the cup.
The second the next pulse of green left the wand, Cedric vanished from the scene with a pop.
Again, the light hit only the ground, proving all murder attempts fruitless.
Cedric Diggory was saved.
"Yes!" Harry cried.
He'd grabbed the figure's ankle when Cedric was pinned, but he'd spoken too soon.
"Bound him!" the voice screeched.
The figure waved its wand and commanded in a high, wheezy voice,
"Stupefy!"
Harry felt himself flung backwards, towards the edifice, crashing back first into the marble.
"Incarcerous!" The figure continued.
Harry tried to run, but his wrists and ankles were tied to the edifice, and then his neck. But Harry could still turn his head, and he quickly read a name upon the marble.
Tom Riddle.
This was the real name of the Dark Lord Voldemort and his father before him.
"I should have… seen…" Harry choked "This… coming…"
But Harry didn't see the figure pull a long, silver dagger from his sleeve. Harry felt the dagger prod against his epidermis, slashing him clean across the right forearm. The figure collected a single dribble of Harry's blood, before pulling Harry's face back forward.
But as the figure let go, Harry noticed its hand was missing a finger.
"Wormtail!" He gritted.
Wormtail, otherwise known as Peter Pettigrew, was the man who sold Harry's parents out to Voldemort. Afterwards, he precariously forged his death and framed Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, for the crime.
"You…" Harry panted.
Wormtail pulled a long, black cloth from his other sleeve, ready to gag Harry. But he'd left the bundle at Harry's feet, writhing around and hissing like a kidnapped child.
But it also sounded like the bundle was able to form words.
"Let me see him…" it ordered.
"Master, you are not complete yet," Wormtail hesitated.
"My face is developed enough," the bundle insisted. "Show me to him…"
Wormtail picked the bundle back up and unwrapped it, but Harry immediately regretted looking at its contents. Whatever it was, it belonged at the river bottoms of the netherworld.
It was a body; small and slimy with dark reddish scales, like a newborn child wrapped in freshly molted snake skin. Its skinny limbs were pathetically clinging to Wormtail's neck, pulling his hood off.
But it had strength enough to crane its head around.
Its nose was flat, with a couple of lines for nostrils and its eyes were an intoxicating shade of red.
It was the face of the Dark Lord Voldemort himself.
"Harry Potter…" he hissed. "Our fourth meeting… I believe you recall meeting me in a similar form… but I recall you had a wand with you, did you not?"
Harry couldn't reach into his pocket, but he could roll his eyes down. He noticed he'd dropped it when he was caught.
"What do you want this time, Tom?" Harry grumbled with derision.
"How dare you call me by my filthy muggle father's name!" Voldemort screeched. "At last, you will see me rise again, and this time, you will not interfere… Wormtail, the cauldron!"
Wormtail grasped Harry's face again and twisted it to the right. He then carried Voldemort's remains down over to the large cauldron Harry barely made out before.
It was filled to the brim with some liquid, which Wormtail brought to a full boil from below.
Wormtail dropped Voldemort into the cauldron, then waved his wand at Harry's feet.
"Bone of the father," he chanted. "Unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
A bone-shaped wedge of soil burst from the ground, making way for a real bone. It dropped into the cauldron before Wormtail stretched his hand over the cauldron's edge.
"Flesh of the servant," he winced, "Willingly given, you will revive your master…"
Harry shielded his eyes, so he wouldn't have to see Wormtail slice his missing finger hand into the liquid.
Finally, Wormtail secreted the vial containing Harry's blood. With no other hand, Wormtail had to pull out the cork with his mouth, before disposing the blood into the cauldron.
"B-blood of the enemy…" he stuttered, "Forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe."
As the cauldron started simmering, Wormtail fell to his knees, simpering with his handless wrist. Even seeing him in pain, Harry did not couldn't be bothered with Wormtail.
The cauldron went from simmering to crackling sparks everywhere. The last one was the brightest, blackening Harry's vision completely.
"He's failed…" Harry muttered. "He's not back!"
He couldn't see the sparks dissipate from the liquid's surface, steaming and vaporizing around Harry's head. Harry's vision had gone from black to white, but the mist evaporated as quickly as it came.
The warmth that surrounded Harry's neck was replaced with a cold sweat as Voldemort's unhealthily thin body arose from the cauldron, standing perfectly on its own two feet. Also, he seemed to have gained an extra two or three taller.
"Robe me," he ordered, stretching out a clammy hand with long, spider leg-like fingers
When commanded, Wormtail picked up the robes Voldemort had been bundled in, struggling to put them on him with only a single hand. Once Voldemort was clothed, he stepped out of the cauldron, turning to face Harry, looking paler than him.
In fact, his all of his skin, from face to finger, was now a pure bone-chalk white.
Lord Voldemort had risen from the Great Beyond.
He stretched out his hand, admiring it, until a soft hiss came out the grass. A massive grey snake slithered past Harry's feet before circling Voldemort's.
"Yes Nagini," Voldemort hissed soothingly. "I have returned."
The Dark Lord gently caressed Nagini's head, a wand emerging in his other hand.
When he heard Wormtail groaning behind him, he threw the rat against another headstone before pulling up his left sleeve.
"My Lord…" Wormtail whimpered, holding up his handless arm. "You promised…"
But Wormtail cried harder as Voldemort pressed a finger to his forearm, where a red mark appeared, shaped like a skull with a snake emerging from its mouth.
Harry had seen this mark before, at the Quidditch World Cup last summer. It was the Dark Mark, the emblem of Voldemort and his followers.
"It is back," He softly declared. "And the world will know now… that so are we."
He released Wormtail's left arm and waved his wand. A ball of silvery liquid materialized above their heads before gently falling to Wormtail's handless wrist.
Several blots emerged, forming the ball into the shape of a hand, with metal joints on the digits. The hand fixed itself on Wormtail's wrist before Voldemort released him.
"My Lord," Wormtail gasped. "It is beautiful…"
"Voldemort rewards his helpers," he assured him. "And yet you returned to me out of fear for your old friends… Crucio!"
Voldemort brandished his wand as Wormtail doubled over on his unmentionables, bawling like he was about to die.
"You deserve this pain, Wormtail," Voldemort concluded, cancelling the curse.
This was perhaps the only thing Harry agreed with Voldemort upon. But the Dark Lord faced him again.
"Now Harry," he began highly and nasally. "You have seen that you stand upon the grave of my father, more foolish than your mother… He was quite lucky for me to do away with him…"
Voldemort laughed as the snake circling Harry around the gravestone.
"He lived upon this hillside," Voldemort continued. "My mother, a witch from the village, loved him. But when he found out what she was, he left her, merely before I was born. She died in childbirth, leaving me to a Muggle orphanage. It didn't take long for me to find my father, nor for him to receive what he was intended to. All for giving me his filthy name… Tom Riddle…"
He kept pacing, but Harry knew he wasn't finished yet.
"But what am I being sentimental for?" Voldemort laughed. "My true family welcomes me home tonight…"
Harry heard a chorus of swishes as a whole gaggle of black cloaks apparatus outside the fence. All with hoods up and silver masks on their faces, pulling up their sleeves to show the Dark Mark.
"Master… Master…" they repeated.
"Welcome, Death Eaters," Voldemort addressed them. "Thirteen years since last we met… Our marks glow again,"
He gestured to a man with long, blonde hair sticking out of his hood.
"You know my slippery friend Lucius, don't you Harry?" Voldemort teased. "The father of your young rival, Draco? You've foiled three of his bits of fun in the last three years; once in the Chamber of Secrets, then with a mere Hippogriff incident, and finally at the Quidditch World Cup?"
Harry tensed furiously; he knew Lucius Malfoy was a part of that somehow.
"I never found faithfulness with him; Once I was gone, he did not bother to come to my aid. He was rather busy trying to maintain a respectable face among your public. He even ran from the World Cup when I sent my marker in the sky…"
Harry frowned, for he was sure Malfoy was more responsible for all of that.
"And you know another," Voldemort continued. "My most faithful servant. He is at Hogwarts, masquerading as your Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher…"
Harry looked shocked, but also disgusted when Voldemort stroked his cheek, without any burn to his hand.
"No, not Alastor Moody…" Voldemort interjected. "young Mr. Barty Crouch Junior. It was he who arranged your portkey here tonight…"
As much as Harry still couldn't believe his ears, he wondered which of them turned Draco Malfoy into a ferret.
"Only seven are still missing…" Voldemort furthered.
"Three dead in my service, one two cowardly to return, one who has left me forever… both of them will pay… and the Lestranges, both entombed in Azkaban, but not for long… Azkaban will soon be broken into and they will be honoured beyond their wildest dreams… And the dementors with them…"
Harry shuddered at the memories of his encounters with Dementors, ashamed that Voldemort saw it.
"Yes Harry, they are our greatest allies," Voldemort assured him. "Yet you, like my Death Eaters, are more curious of my miraculous survival nearly fourteen years ago? Only my Death Eaters need know the fuller extent…"
Harry huffed, in disbelief that even Voldemort could sound like Dumbledore. Especially for not telling him everything.
"My curse deflected upon me, the night your mother made her foolish sacrifice," Voldemort explained. "I was torn from my body, no more than a mere spirit, but not quite dead…
"With no ability to use spells, and a bounty upon my head, I settled in some Albanian woods, sleeplessly waiting for one of my Death Eaters to find and restore me. I would live off of possessing the bodies of snakes. But their bodies were not equipped to perform magic, and their lives were shorter than humans'…"
Nagini gave an offended hiss, but Voldemort settled her with another head stroke. But the image on Harry's mind was Voldemort's face on a snake's back.
"But Wormtail who brought your parents to me, brought me back to Britain for all of this…" Voldemort concluded.
"Anything else, you need not know in Death… You have served your purpose here tonight… You have aided in my return, thus I and my followers shall aid in your death…"
"Crucio!"
It was perhaps the hardest thing Harry had ever been hit with. Far above Quirrel's touch to his face, the Basilisk fang to his forearm, and Krum's use of the Cruciatus curse.
Once it was gone, he felt himself completely limp in the ropes he was tied in. Even his eyelids felt like they had a weight pulling them closed.
"Untie him," Voldemort's voice commanded. "And give him back his wand…"
Harry couldn't see who acquiesced to Voldemort, but once he was free, he fell to his knees. He staggered to his feet, struggling to open his eyes again.
"Well done, Harry," Voldemort teased. "Observing protocol before we duel… You have been taught to duel, haven't you?"
Harry was too tired to answer, to which Voldemort and his Death Eaters merely gave a collective laugh.
"No need falling asleep on your feet, Harry," Voldemort added, raising his wand. "You'll have plenty of time for that soon enough… Avada Kedavra!"
Harry was too tired to think properly of a response. But something popped into his head as a green blur began to fill his field of vision.
"…Reverso… Septannus!" He gasped.
A surge of red light blasted from Harry's wand, colliding with Voldemort's in midair. But the collision at the center began to grow, shrinking both paths by the minute.
But Harry started losing grip on his wand and his path began to shrink. But as Voldemort's path pushed his blast back, it remained the same size.
Finally, there was an explosion of red and green, blasting Harry onto his back, as all went white.
For awhile there appeared to be no sound passing through his ears either.
"Harry dear, open your eyes," a sweet, feminine voice instructed.
"It's alright son," added a familiar man. "You're safe now."
When Harry's vision cleared, he found himself in an open-air chamber flooded with white light and got quite the shock when he saw two particular faces.
"Mum? Dad?" he gasped.