{THIS TIME ON HPZ...}
Harry felt his feet slam into the ground, and when his leg gave way, he let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. He raised his head.
"Where are we?"
Cedric shook his head. He got up, pulled Harry to his feet, and they looked around.
They had left Hogwarts completely; they had obviously travelled miles—perhaps hundreds of miles—for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. They were stranded in a dark and overgrown graveyard, the worn grey headstones chipped and cracked with time, and weeds and grasses pressed up through the path in knotted clumps. Some graves were small and modest, others stood taller than either of them. Unseen crickets chirped in chorus, and a distant owl hooted. The black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to the right, dark green vines of ivy climbing both of them. A hill rose up above them to the left, and Harry could just make out the sight of a grand old mansion on the hillside. The overcast sky was a heavy veil of dark clouds.
Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry.
"Did anyone tell you the cup was a portkey?" he asked.
Harry glanced left and right. The eerie atmosphere was biting at his nerves. "Nope. Is this supposed to be part of the task?"
"I dunno. Wands out, d'you reckon?"
"Yeah." he was glad Cedric made the suggestion, because he had the strange feeling they were being watched.
And he was right.
"Someone's coming."
Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched a short figure draw steadily nearer, weaving between the gravestones like a wraith. He was wearing a hooded cloak, and holding… holding a baby?
It stopped besides a towering marble headstone, and the three simply looked at each other.
Then Harry's scar exploded with pain. He screamed, doubled over, and clutched his hands to his forehead. Sticky blood welled up between the gaps of his pressing fingers. He'd never felt any pain like it in his life; it was a burning agony of the body, mind and soul. He could see nothing at all, blinded by the agony.
From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare."
A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Sectumsempra!"
A blast of red light blazed through Harry's eyelids, and he heard something heavy fall to the ground beside him; the pain in his scar reached such a pitch that he retched, and then it diminished at last; terrified of what he was about to see, he opened his stinging eyes.
Cedric Diggory was bleeding out, lying spread-eagled on the ground beside him in a sanguine puddle. He was barely breathing, rivulets of blood streaming down from his nostrils and mouth. He met his eyes, and Harry saw nothing but a fatal terror within them.
The cloaked man conjured tight cords that grew from the grass like tied-up vines, tying him from neck to ankles to a headstone that his back slammed into. Harry at last grasped who the cloaked man was.
"Wormtail!" he gasped.
But Wormtail didn't reply; he ignored him, instead pointing his wand down at the ground with a frantic flourish. "Paparapapa!"
Out of a cloud of thick pink smoke appeared a large black cauldron emblazoned with a giant white curling M, and the ground beneath it burst into flames as the mystical liquid inside bubbled and frothed away.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
A bleach-white hand broke free from the earth besides Harry's feet, and he realised with a horrified strain that an inferi had just arisen from the grave he was chained to. An arm followed the hand, then a head, eyeless, skinless and fleshless, then a torso and finally the thing crawled to its shambling legs and barely made it across the space before the inferi skeleton collapsed into the cauldron like a drunk.
Poisonous-blue sparks erupted from the cauldron, but Wormtail paid it no heed as he already moved on to his next step.
"Flesh—of the servant—w-willingly given—you will—revive—your master…"
And in a flash of silver, Wormtail pulled out a dagger and hacked his own arm clean off. Harry gagged at the gory display, but the wounded Peter Pettigrew was not done.
"B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe!"
Harry could do nothing to prevent it, he was tied too tightly. Wormtail cast his third and final spell.
"Accio, blood of Potter!"
Harry cried out as a red stream flowed out of his bleeding scar, across the cold air and into the furiously burbling cauldron. The potion turned a violent red, and Wormtail dropped the baby—the thing into the raging liquid. All at once, everything went quiet.
"N-no… that can't be… it must have worked…" Wormtail sweat.
But then the cauldron started steaming. Like a giant kettle, it let loose a hissing spout of hot white mist that rose and rose in pitch until…
The cauldron exploded.
"Haaaaaaaaaaaah!"
Everything was thrown back. Graves were shattered into rocky shards, the weeds were uprooted, and stones from the path levitated and sailed up into the air.
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! !"
The sky shook, the Earth quaked, and the Heavens trembled. Great conduits of lighting cast up from the magical typhoon, through the clouds, and out into space. Waves of magic roiled and oscillated across the globe, with the spot right in front of Harry at its epicentre.
"H-how!?" What kind of magic was this!? To cast at this scale just by waking up, it should be impossible!
And yet the impossible was taking place right before his eyes.
The ground was flattened into a great crater, wholly desecrating the burial site. Wormtail was thrown back, but Harry was forced to take the brunt of it. He couldn't look away. Not from…
"Lord Voldemort!" Wormtail kneeled, cradling his mutilated arm.
The man who emerged from the smoke was tall and muscular, surrounded by static sparks that crackled on and off. He had no nose, only slitted nostrils where a nose should have been, and his eyes were a livid scarlet and slit like a snake's. His pallid skin was skull-white. He was wearing a cloak black as night, that flowed around him like a cloud of ink.
"Expulso! Confringo! Reducto!"
Three spells exploded against the pale man, suddenly shot forwards by the injured Cedric Diggory. He was clutching at his wounded chest with he left hand, as his right held his wand aloft as he cast off curse after curse.
But Voldemort didn't even flinch. He wasn't even paying attention.
Instead, he was inspecting his creepish slender fingers, digits that made his hands resemble large pale spiders. He flexed his bicep, and rather than test his wand, he… shadowboxed?
Finally, his crimson eyes crept over to Cedric, who gulped and stepped back. Harry knew that the most fearsome man in the Wizarding World was standing right in front of him, and he still had the courage to fight. It made Harry grit his teeth; meanwhile, he couldn't even move.
"At last… I can finally test the power of my final form! Still alive, I see? Perhaps you will be able to assist me in my warmup?"
Voldemort rocketed forwards, and rather than even bothering to cast a spell, he instead chose to kick Cedric so hard the boy's ribcage collapsed in on itself. The boy was sent flying, crashing down and rolling over and over until he came to a bloody stop behind a nestled grave.
"Cedric!"
The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between upturned graves, behind the bent yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them hooded and masked. One by one, all of them kneeled in awe and disbelieving reverence… and abject fear.
Then at once, they seemed to remember themselves, and settled into position.
"Malfoy!" Lucius Malfoy lunched sideways, sweeping one arm out wide whilst holding another to his chest.
"Crabbe!" Crabbe leaned in, pumping his fist into the air.
"Goyle!" Goyle stood on one foot and spread his arms out wide to balance as he leaned forwards.
"Wormtail!" Pettigrew crouched down on one knee, holding his arms out at a downwards angle to his sides. His severed hand spouted a splatter of blood on the upturned dirt.
""Together, we are the Deathyu Force!""
"…"
"…Where are the Lestranges? The poses don't feel complete without them…" Voldemort commented after thinking it over. "Ah, entombed in Azkaban. They went to Azkaban rather than renouncing me… they shall be honoured beyond their dreams."
He turned to face his captive again.
"Now, answer me…why is Potter still tied up?" Voldemort demanded, snapping his fingers, "I demand a proper duel. You have been taught to duel, Harry Potter?" said Voldemort softly, his red eyes glinting in the darkness.
Harry found himself freed once again, his wand in hand, standing before the dark wizard that had stolen his life before it even began.
"We bow to each other, Harry." Voldemort bent a little, but kept his snakelike face upturned at Harry mockingly, "Come, the niceties must be observed… Dumbledore would like you to show manners… Bow to death, Harry…"
Harry, against all sensibilities, found himself bowing, even as a chorus of cackling laughter from the Death Eaters surrounded him. Somewhere, deep inside his heart, he was raring to finally face the man who had taken everything from him.
"Good. And now you face me like a man, straight-backed and proud, the way your father died. And now—we duel."
Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could even react, he was struck. "Crucio!"
The pain was so intense, so blood-curdling, so overwhelming, that Harry didn't even realise he'd been flung back, all the way through multiple tombstones, crashing through until he lay before the dying form of Cedric Diggory.
Finally, Voldemort halted his casting. "A little break, that hurt, didn't it, Harry? You don't want me to do it again, do you? Fight back. Come on, don't be so… disappointing."
It was then that Harry realised something. In front of him, lay Cedric, but beyond him, rested the Triwizard Cup. Portkeys go both ways—! he recalled at once, and a new plan, a new idea was formulating in his mind at once.
But then that too, was shattered.
"Imperio! Petrificus Totallus!"
Harry was held stock-still to the spot, transformed into a human statue. The only part of his body he could move, were his eyes. He and Cedric met each other's gazes, and Harry was truly lost to despair.
"Obedience is a virtue I need to tell you before you die… Perhaps another little dose of pain?" Voldemort wondered quietly.
But then Cedric Diggory stood up. He was caked in his own blood, the wound from Sectumsempra still running a viscous, raw red.
"Harry. When you can, get to the Portkey and run. I cucked you, so this is only fair. Tell everyone that—that You-Kno—no, tell everyone that Voldemort's returned from the grave. Tell them that it's not a sin to fight for the right cause. There are those who words alone will not reach. Harry, seize upon your anger. Please protect the Quidditch cup, protect the hot Asian chicks, protect this world I loved."
"You've prattled on long enough, you miserable failure!" Voldemort struck. "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Cedric was lifted, pulled into the air against his will, like a giant unseen claw was latching onto him. He flew higher and higher, before he at last cried out. "Harry!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
Thunk. Cedric Diggory collapsed spread-eagled to the ground beside him.
He was dead.
For a second that contained an eternity, Harry stared through round cracked glasses at Cedric's face, at his open grey eyes, blank and expressionless as the windows of a deserted house, at his open mouth, which looked slightly surprised. And then, before Harry's mind had accepted what he was seeing, before he could feel anything but numb disbelief, he knelt down, and closed the eyes of his fallen friend.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed. Potter had just resisted the Imperius curse without even uttering a word. And now his back was trembling. It was then that he realised that— "He's… changing!"
'Cedric… you loved life, and gave everything up to protect mine—and you were just an Irishman! You were the jock chad, and I was just an emo chudcel seething at you all year… And I just watched you die!'
…AND I WON'T WATCH THIS ANYMORE! !
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"
Harry screamed, tearing at the clouds in the sky above, ripping up the earth at his feet, and all the way from space, a light could be seen shining in the village of Little Hangleton. His chudcel emo rage was unfathomable, a well of power as bottomless as the deep sea.
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH! ! !"
Thunder and lightning flashed down from the Heavens, and a terrible storm erupted, pounding down with its heavy rain. A whirlwind flung tombstones left and right, and earthquakes rocked all of Europe.
Finally, Harry straightened himself up, and turned to face the Portkey. His hair was standing on end, and a magical glow surrounded his body. Sparks of lightning coursed around his newly-muscled form intermittently. He suddenly possessed a build that would put an Olympian to shame.
"No you don't, cowardly Potter!" Wormtail snarled, leaping forwards.
Harry chopped out sideways, and the treacherous rat animagus was cut in half. Then those two severed halves exploded.
"W-what the fuck!?" a Death Eater uttered haltingly.
And now Voldemort knew he wasn't dealing with the average wizard anymore; he was about to face a Triwizard Champion fourteen years in the making.
Harry pointed a finger at the Triwizard Cup and spoke lowly: "Reducto."
It was blasted to pieces; Harry had willingly stranded himself in the graveyard. He hadn't been trying to get to the portkey at all. There was only one way out now. Voldemort almost cocked an eyebrow, but he didn't have any hair.
"G-get him!" Lucius Malfoy shouted.
"Grah!" Goyle charged forwards, a jet of fire at his fingertips.
Harry flashed forwards and dragged a kick up through the ground to penetrate the man's abdomen—and then he too exploded.
"Hyah!" Crabbe threw a potion over Harry, but the noxious fluid was vaporised by the sheer might of the aura surrounding him. Harry hopped up to sock him in the face so hard his head came off—before he exploded.
"A-ah!" Lucius Malfoy tried running away, but Harry tapped his fingers on a broken-over tombstone to turn it into a skateboard. It skidded forwards to catch up with the older man, before Harry jumped off of it, raised his foot over his head and then brought his right leg down like a hammer, cleaving Malfoy in half and exploding both slices.
"Holy shit!" the Death Eaters cried out at the sight of the Deathyu Squad's wipe out.
Voldemort just leered.
"Finally! Now this should be interesting!"
"I've gotten sick of you, you heartless wasteman." Harry spat, "You killed my family, you ruined my Godfather's life, you can't leave me alone for even a single year at Hogwarts, and now you've even killed Cedric, my brother in sideways Chinese pussy."
Harry crouched forwards. "This ends here—! VOLDEMORT! !"
He rocketed forth, rearing a fist back and clocking the Dark Lord round the head with a right hook that flung his neck sideways, and his whole body tumbled after it. Death Eaters stumbled out of the way as Harry clasped his fists over his head, vaulted forwards, and brought them crashing down, sending Voldemort burrowed deep inside the earth.
Harry reared a hand back, and thrust his right arm forwards, and roared as he threw a blast of magic right down the fresh hole. "Confringo!"
Except Harry's spell was blocked by an ethereal shield of magic shaped into a sphere. The ground was blasted up, and out erupted Lord Voldemort.
His black robes were shredded, so he tore them off, and flexed his shirtless alabaster body revealing he, too, possessed a figure to rival any bodybuilder's. "Check out my perfect form, it's perfect!"
The Dark Lord cracked his neck, and rolled his shoulders, then stood with his hands out in front of himself, one in front of the other, two fingers raised higher than the others. Harry stood side-on, his fist raised forwards, as blood from his lightning-bolt scar trickled upwards on his forehead. His bright green eyes watched as the Death Eaters surrounded him, but he wasn't worried in the slightest.
"All of you, back off! You should all know better than to interfere in my fight, fools!" Voldemort snapped.
"You think they could interfere?" Harry scoffed, "I'll show you."
"Bufo explosio!" And just like that, Harry shot forwards a beam of magic at the crowd of Death Eaters around him, though they scrambled left and right, ducking and diving amongst the tombs and trees. At the last moment, Harry swung his arms out wide split the beam into an array of tendrils like a giant white jellyfish, homing in on each and every Death Eater that Voldemort had called forth. It struck them all, every last one.
Ribbit. Ribbit.
Croaking filled the air, as wisps of a veil of smoke filtered away to reveal the graveyard was now choc-full of toads.
"Tch. Useless." Voldemort shook his head at the sorry display. "I'm not sure if I even want to change them back after you become the Boy Who Died."
Voldemort shot forwards, catching Harry off-guard with his hypersonic speed. He elbowed him in the chest, before grabbing his arm and flipping him over his shoulder. When he was on the floor, he opened his mouth and spat a gout of flames over him. Harry's robe was singed, but he managed to transfigure the dirt beneath him into chocolate cake, and tunnelled through the softer filling to catch Voldemort in the back with a roundhouse kick.
They let loose a flurry of magical blasts, a kaleidoscope of colourful wizardry that brought strange things to life and turned them to stone before they became a frothy cloud of bubbles, all in the span of seconds. Harry cast the Wingardium spell on himself right as Voldemort did, and they flew at each other like freight trains. A clash of the ages.
Voldemort and Harry's forearms met, cratering the ground beneath them, before the Dark Lord twisted round and high-kicked Harry to the stomach, sending him flying upwards faster than a Golden Snitch. The warlock whizzed after the boy, whirling around again as he flickered right in front of him to spike Harry right back down to earth with a spin kick.
Harry crashed down, kneeling with his head to the floor as Voldemort pursued, but right as he drew near, the teen exploded up, rocking his fist into a mean uppercut right to the Dark Wizard's chin. Voldemort was sent rolling head-over-heels in mid-air, before Harry leapt right up and reared his left leg back. Voldemort raised his guard—only for the real switch-kick to nail him in the head. A feint.
Voldemort was flung straight through a cluster of graves, and picked himself to his feet, to wipe away a bead of blood seeping from his serpentine nostrils. "My blood, spilled by a brat!? Unthinkable… I will not stand for this! Your life ends here!"
"Funny. You can destroy all of England, but you can't even beat one man." Harry smirked.
The warlock and wizard circled each other back and forth like sharks, before they steadied themselves one final time.
"It's time to finish this. Prepare to join your parents in oblivion!" Voldemort held his arms out to the sides, a venomous green light shining from the orbs of magic he'd produced in each hand. He began to levitate from the sheer mystic power coursing through him.
"I will not let you destroy my schooooooool!" Harry bellowed as he ripped off his singed robes, exposing his barrel-chest. He crouched forwards, and held his hands together at his side, the fingers facing opposite directions as the palms contained a brilliant blue light.
"Av-a-da…"
"Ex-pell-i…"
"—Kedavra!"
"—Armus!"
The bang was like a canon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them at the dead centre marked the point where the spells collided. A toxic-green torrent of evil magic, the most vile and taboo of all spells clashed against the pure azure of Harry's beam of heroic light. Where the two met, was a narrow beam of bright, deep gold.
Harry felt the ground give way around them, and the weight and pressure upon him from Voldemort's beam was so heavy it was a struggle to remain standing. Around the two, a barrier of pure golden magic was emitted, crushing and disintegrating whatever else it came into contact with, sucking up and consuming the graves and grasses.
Harry was feeling the pressure; his arms were shaking, and he was on the verge of buckling under the strain. No! He couldn't lose here! Everything was on the line!
And then an unearthly, beautiful sound filled the air. It was coming from every thread of the magical force-field that surrounded them. It was a sound Harry recognised, even if he had heard it only once before; phoenix song. It was the sound of hope, the most beautiful and welcome thing he had ever heard in his life, and he renewed his struggle.
"Heheheh! Time to put an end to this! I'll finish you off now! Die, Potter!"
But so did the Dark Wizard Voldemort, and now the warlock was using every bit of his strength, all of his magical skill and arcane power to push back and crush Harry Potter once and for all.
"I'm sorry everyone… Mum, Dad, Ron, Hermione, Cedric… I let you all down…"
Harry was on the verge of defeat, despite his determination, in spite of all of his efforts and sacrifices up until now, but then…
"Hey, don't tell me you're giving up now?"
"Cedric?" Harry gasped, and sure enough, the ghostly form of Cedric Diggory hung before him, from beyond the grave.
"It's not just me…" Cedric stepped aside.
"He was a real wizard, then? Killed me, that one did. You get him, boy!"
"Whoa! It's some random old guy!" Harry gasped again.
"Forget the groundskeeper, look over here!" he heard another voice, this one feminine.
In front of him floated the spirit of his mother. He recognised her face from the Mirror of Erised. Huh, they really did share the same eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Harry!" she cheered, "Keep it up! Keep it up! You still haven't used all of your power! Let it explode!"
"But I'm already using my full power! This is all I've got!"
"That's not true."
Harry's father stood beside him, his arms forward, putting his own strength into the spellbeam. "Dad!"
"Somewhere in your heart, you're worried about damaging the village. Don't worry about it, you're a wizard Harry, you can fix it! Besides, fuck muggles, who cares anyway! It's magic, you ain't gotta explain shit!"
"D-dad… holy based! B-but isn't Mum a—"
"Never ask a racist the race of his girlfriend." James Potter winked. "The others will get us the opening. You just have to give it your all, son!"
Voldemort smirked, and gave one last push. "Farewell, Potter!"
But then he was knocked upside the head, and his attention flinched for just a moment. "W-who!?"
And when he saw honest to God ghosts in front of him, even the Dark Lord took a second to process what he was seeing. And that second was enough.
"NOW HARRY!"
"HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH! ! !"
The explosion from the beam completely overtaking Voldemort was tremendous enough to make one's ears bleed. The clouds were utterly wiped away. The spell went right through the Dark Lord, through the entire graveyard, and through the mansion on the hillside, and blasted off the face of the Earth beyond its orbit. Harry's glasses were blown clean off, and he wasn't even facing the brunt of it. That was all on Voldemort.
The mansion crumbled in on itself, and a deep gouge had been ripped right through the land, like someone had taken a giant knife to the face of the Little Hangleton.
Harry breathed heavily and deeply, as the lightning around him died down, and the magical glow faded. His raven hair fell around his face, parted around his bloody thunderbolt-scar. He rubbed at the scrapes and cuts on his skin, as a trudged towards the kneeling, crumbling body of the Dark Lord.
The Dark Wizard Voldemort had been hit by the combined power of an Expelliarmus and an Unforgivable blended together into an unknowable torrent of magic. His arms had been blasted clean off, and he had turned completely grey, like ash. It seemed the fused spell had treated his arms as the parts he was spellcasting with and disarmed him of them. What was left of him wasn't fairing much better.
"H-how can this be…?" he wheezed.
"How, you ask?" Harry began, "I am a wizard who travelled all the way from Hogwarts to defeat you. A wizard pure of heart, awakened by rage. I am the legendary Boy Who Lived! !"
Harry howled forwards, and the sheer volume of it blew the ash that made up Voldemort away into a cloud that settled over the cemetery. From the dust, flowers sprouted in seconds, blooming under the now cloud-free sky. Fitting that the Dark Lord would meet his end in his muggle family graveyard, and not even need a coffin after all.
At last, Harry fell backwards, landing on the soft grass with a proud smile on his face, and he stuck a thumbs-up towards the sky.
"Mum, Dad— I did it!"
{DRAMATIC FINISH! ! !}
{HARRY! Wins! !}
Author's notes:
I've had no WiFi at my dorm all week, so whilst I was offline I just wrote this since I couldn't access my other stuff. This was inspired by both my own twisted imagination plus "Harry Potter and Goku FUSION | Voldemort vs Harry Potter | Dragon Ball Z Budokai Tenkaichi 3 (HD)", AKA one of those meme Mexican Tenkaichi 3 Mod videos where Peter Griffin and Big Smoke do the fusion dance to fight Mega-Thomas the Decepti-Tank Engine-con.
I tried to mix the tone of Harry Potter's books and DBZ for this story. Also, I wanted it to start all normal, and get progressively more unhinged as it went on, lol.
Also NINJA GAIDEN 4 JUST GOT REVEALED HOLY SHIT! We're so back!