The Dark Resurrection

Harry wanted to keep Voldemort talking. He figured that the longer they spoke, the more likely that he would either find a way to escape or someone would send help if they could find him.

He glanced over to see how Wormtail was doing with the giant cauldron that he was moving towards the fire. Realizing that he was running out of time fast, Harry asked Voldemort a question that had been bothering him since he found out why he was famous, "Why me?"

Voldemort was surprised by this question, "Surely, you know why I tried to kill you?" Not receiving an answer, he continued in his tiny, snakelike voice, "We are fated, tied together by a prophecy." He paused, not wanted to give the boy any more information than absolutely necessary.

Deciding upon a plan, Voldemort continued, "Didn't Dumbledore tell you the prophecy? He was the one that heard it after all." He was focusing on the boy's facial features, looking for anything he could use. He wasn't disappointed, fury flashed through their connection and across Harry Potter's face.

Voldemort had been aware of the connection since he had constructed this rudimentary body. He wasn't strong enough to take advantage of it yet, but he would be soon.

The smile that graced the tiny creature's face was horrifying. If Harry could have recoiled, he would have. His fragile hold on his Occlumency Shields shattered when Voldemort told him that Dumbledore had known all along why but had never told him. His inner turmoil was so great that he never noticed Wormtail pick up the tiny form of Voldemort and drop him into the cauldron.

The splash startled him back to attentiveness. He was watching with rapt attention as Wormtail levitated a bone from the grave of Tom Riddle, Sr. and dropped it into the cauldron. He had missed what was said but Harry knew enough about rituals to know that each step was very important.

When Wormtail slashed off his own hand as a sacrifice, panic began to well up inside of him. Desperately, he thought, 'What would the ritual require from me? Can I disrupt the ritual somehow?' He was desperately trying to come up with a plan to escape the awful mess he was in.

Peter clutched his arm to his chest and turned towards Harry to complete the ritual that would restore his master to a proper body. His voice was shaky, and full of pain, as he stammered out, "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."

Before Wormtail could slash him with that wicked looking dagger, Harry said, "I give my blood freely to resurrect my foe."

Peter paused, unsure of what to do. He was panicking now. The ritual had to be completed; there was no turning back once it was started. He stepped up and slashed Harry's left forearm and collected the blood on the blade.

When Wormtail dropped the blood into the cauldron, Harry's scar exploded in pain. However, it was familiar to him and he instinctively knew what to do. Reaching out with his magic, he began to tear at the tendrils of dark magic that was connected to his scar.

With a massive effort, Harry snapped the remaining tendrils free from his scar. The pain was immense and he screamed aloud in pain as he felt something leave his body. Right before he passed out, saw the naked body of Voldemort rising up from the cauldron, alive and looking directly at him.

Voldemort stepped forward and pulled on a robe and picked up his wand. He felt the familiar rush of magic rushing through his veins as he was re-united with his wand after thirteen long years.

Slowly, he turned to survey the scene in front of him. Harry Potter was slumped, unconscious, on the ground next to the Triwizard Cup. Wormtail was huddled on his knees, trying to bow down before his master.

Voldemort began taking stock of his new body. There was something that was slightly off. He couldn't feel his connection to Harry Potter. There were other small differences that he was becoming aware of. First, he had no hair, anywhere. He figured that it was from the reptilian construct that he had inhabited for so long. It was a small price to pay for a new body.

Second, his eyes were different somehow. His vision wasn't changed, but something was a touch off. Waving his wand, Voldemort conjured a mirror to look at himself.

Overall, he looked human with the exception of his eyes and nose. They definitely had a reptilian quality to them. His eyes were slits and his pupils were ringed in red. His nose was gone; in its place were two long slits, just like a snake's nose. 'Minor flaws that I will repair later after extensive research.' He thought idly as he examined his fingers.

With a wave of his wand, he concealed his true features behind a Glamour Charm. He now looked just like he did at the height of his powers but without the damage done by all of the dark rituals. In short, he looked like the perfect picture of a handsome, pureblood, head of house. His hair was a longish dark brown and his eyes their old shade of blue green.

When he spoke for the first time in his new body, he noticed that his voice had a sibilant quality to it that he liked, "Wormtail, give me your arm."

Immediately, Peter held out his left arm, the Dark Mark was plainly visible after being faded for so many years. "My Lord?" he asked.

Voldemort was looking at the mark on Wormtail's arm. The Dark Mark was one of his finest creations. It tied him to his servants so that he was always able to call upon them and they could alert him in an emergency.

The mark burned black on Wormtail's arm when Voldemort pressed the tip of his wand to it. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, feeling the links re-establishing themselves after being dormant for so long.

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