chapter 72

Of course, the first thing Harry attempted when he realized he had been abducted from Hogwarts and taken to an unknown cemetery was to Apparate away. He didn't care where he ended up; he chose Diagon Alley, a key hub for Magical Britain, simply to escape this dreadful place… and hoped Cedric would follow him to safety.

Unfortunately, as soon as Harry tried to Apparate, he collided with a powerful ward designed to prevent such escape. Undeterred, he attempted to use the portkeys embedded in his lordship rings, only to discover they were similarly blocked. Even the Goblet of Fire remained stubbornly unhelpful... Did he really expect his captor to make his escape easy?

"Your s-s-struggle is amusing, but it ends here." A new, hissing voice slithered through the air. Turning, Harry spotted a cloaked figure standing next to a large gravestone about thirty yards away. In their hands was a bundle, child-sized, and Harry recognized it as the source of the voice. "Wormtail!" So it was Peter Pettigrew, meaning that the bundle must hold the temporary body of Tom Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort...

"Yes, Master," Wormtail replied, jabbing his wand at the ground. He quickly ducked behind the tombstone to escape the spellfire sent his way by Harry. A moment later, a large runic array began to glow beneath Harry's and Cedric's feet. It took Harry only seconds to realize what it was: the "Warlock's Fall," a runic trap meant to ensnare a specified magical target and annihilate everyone else within its radius. Setting up such an array took at least a week, which meant the unauthorized portkey in the Goblet of Fire was part of an intricate scheme—one requiring Harry's presence. He doubted Voldemort had any plans for Cedric right now.

Although the area of the trap was limited enough that escaping was theoretically possible, the barrier surrounding it made that impossible; it was designed so that nothing "alive" could pass through it from the inside out. Even if someone could find a way around this simple barrier, time was not on their side, and since Cedric's life was in greater danger than his own, Harry resolved to save him.

"I'm sorry for this," he said, and before Cedric could respond, Harry cast a spell: "Vitai arresto temporale!" Considered dark magic for centuries, this spell had long been lost to modern practitioners. Even in Salazar's time, it was seldom known. It placed the target in a death-like state until a proper counter-curse was applied. If the spell wasn't lifted within a specific timeframe, or if the caster were to die, the victim would perish too.

Cedric's body went limp, like a marionette with its strings cut. Before he could slump to the ground, Harry used a powerful Banishing Charm to send him out of the trap. Fortunately, the barrier viewed Cedric as non-living and allowed passage.

Pointing his wand at Cedric's body, Harry prepared to lift the counter-curse that would bring him back to consciousness when a blinding flash from the runic trap enveloped him, and darkness swallowed his world...

~/ *** \~

Back at Hogwarts, the witches and wizards observing the final task of the Triwizard Tournament were puzzled when the two champions who reached the center of the maze suddenly vanished as they touched the Goblet of Fire. Confusion quickly turned into panic as neither champion reappeared. Dumbledore and the other tournament organizers urged calm, but to no avail; panic only heightened.

Amid the chaos, Barty Crouch Jr., disguised as Alastor Moody, kept his composure. He had sent Potter to his Master, and while Cedric Diggory's unplanned presence might complicate matters, it wouldn't derail the plan.

With that part completed, he needed to deal with the so-called Lady Slytherin, whom the Potter boy had foolishly named. Once she was eliminated, nothing would prevent his Master from reclaiming what was rightfully his.

Crouch discreetly tapped a small magical device with his wand, signaling the weak-minded individuals he had placed under the Imperius Curse earlier. Though he'd prefer not to do this under Dumbledore's nose, recent suspicions from Potter's witch left him no choice. Besides, he had used the wands of nameless wizards for this task, ensuring that only the most skilled Unspeakables could trace the orders.

Moments later, a flurry of colorful curses erupted from various sections of the audience toward the area where Draconica Slytherin sat. While the spells lacked precision from such a distance, a few struck their target—or would have if not for a hastily conjured magical shield thrown up in time to stop them. Yet, the shield was under strain, and Crouch, with his artificial eye, could see it wavering.

With chaos erupting due to the orchestrated attacks on Potter's companion, he decided it was time to act. Moving as quickly as someone on a peg leg could, he made his way toward Draconica's section of the stands.

Eventually, he reached her just as she was dealing with the assault. Covertly signaling the Imperius-controlled attackers to increase their barrage, he stepped next to her, using his magical shield to deflect the curses.

"Lady Slytherin," he said, feigning concern. "There are attempts on your life. Remaining here puts you and others in danger. Allow me to escort you to safety." It was true enough; however, with fifteen attackers targeting her, she sensed a mastermind behind this assault and doubted it was her father—he was far more subtle in his methods. Coupling this with Harry's suspicions about Moody, she realized she needed to be cautious.

"Very well," she agreed, lowering her shield and moving toward the nearest exit. However, she didn't venture far. More attackers could lie in wait, and keeping Moody nearby felt safer.

"You're wise not to rush," he praised, maintaining the shield against the barrage. "But even away from fire, you're far from safe. I shall escort you to the castle, where no one can harm you." He hobbled down the stairs, and since she had no cause for mistrust so far, Draconica followed him.

Once outside, she felt it suspicious that nobody attempted to attack her again while crossing the open area towards the castle doors. Surely the Aurors and fighters observing the tournament would have quelled the attackers...

Upon entering Hogwarts, the peg-legged man headed to seldom-used rooms on the eastern wing's ground floor. Draconica felt uneasy—she knew she and Harry had protected quarters, and guiding her to a deserted area without anyone around felt wrong. It had been ages since these rooms saw cleaning, making it a perfect spot for foul deeds.

"This will do," he said, kicking open a door. "No one looking for you will find you here." The killing intent escaped him just before he roughly seized her by the neck and thrust her inside. "Yes, no one will find you here, wench!" he hissed as he advanced, wand aimed at her. "Crucio!"

Fighting to stand, Draconica collapsed, screaming in agony as the Cruciatus Curse surged through her. "Do you relish the pain, bitch? Do you?" he taunted as he held her under its thrall. "Too bad I can't show you the pain a blood traitor like you deserves—my master wants you dead quickly, so nothing stands in his way when he reclaims his power!"

Lifting the curse, Crouch stepped closer, wand pointed at her heart. "Avada Ke—"

But he leaned too close, and Draconica reacted instinctively, kicking him between the legs. As he doubled over in shock, she rolled away, kicking his peg leg, causing him to fall face-first onto the ground.

"Sorry, but today is not my day to die!" she declared, sitting up, reclaiming her wand, and aiming it at the infiltrator. "Petrificus Totalus!" The spell struck before he could shield himself. Though he lay paralyzed, Draconica pressed on: "Incarcerous!" Thick ropes ensnared him, and she followed up with additional spells to ensure he remained immobile, then summoned his magical eye, wand, and peg leg.

"Elf!" Draconica commanded, and a house-elf appeared instantly.

"What can Mipsy do for you, mistress?" Mipsy asked, fear evident from the scene before her.

"Bring Headmaster Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey, and Madam Bones here immediately. Use force if necessary." The elf nodded and disappeared with a pop.

Around seven minutes later, Dumbledore and Amelia Bones arrived, panting as if they had sprinted from the Quidditch pitch. Behind them were Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, along with several Aurors from Bones' support.

"Merlin's beard! Ms. Slytherin, explain this!" McGonagall demanded upon surveying the room, her weapon ready. Dumbledore and Bones stood prepared with their wands drawn.

"That man, whether he's the true Alastor or an imposter," Draconica began, gesturing to the bound figure. She pointed at her bruised neck—evidence of the struggle. "Attacked and attempted to kill me. Check his wand; the last spell should be the Cruciatus Curse or an unfinished Killing Curse. Either is a life sentence in Azkaban... even capital punishment." The head of the DMLE nodded and picked up the wand.

"Poppy, please examine Lady Slytherin." Bones ordered, then turned to her Aurors. "If Madam Pomfrey confirms she was under the Cruciatus curse, I want this man..." she indicated the bound figure, "in the Department's holding cells. I don't care if it's the real Alastor or not; anyone who uses Unforgivables belongs in Azkaban." Her gaze was sharp and commanding. "If he escapes, you will take his place in Azkaban. Keep your eyes on him!" The Aurors nodded quickly, understanding the gravity of her words.

Bones studied the wand in her hands. "Prior Incantato!" Instantly, the last spell cast emerged from the wand: the Cruciatus curse.

As Madam Pomfrey confirmed Draconica had suffered the effects of the curse for several seconds, the disguised Crouch began to change. Before them lay the man long believed dead...

"Merlin's pants, is that Bartemius Crouch Junior?" Voices murmured, astonished. Yes, it was the Death Eater responsible for numerous atrocities during Voldemort's reign.

~/ *** \~

Harry slowly regained consciousness, bound to a tombstone in a way that rendered any chance of escape impossible. Without his wand, he found it futile to work magic to free himself.

Before him, a large cauldron simmered on a small flame, brewing a potion. Peter Pettigrew—Harry assumed it was him—moved about the cauldron. Voldemort's young body was absent, sending a wave of unease through Harry.

After completing some ritual tasks, Wormtail raised his wand and intoned, "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" The grave labeled "Thomas Riddle" cracked, releasing a trickle of dust that drifted into the cauldron. It caused something within to change, though Harry couldn't see the details due to his position.

Pettigrew continued, whimpering as he drew out a long silver dagger: "Flesh... of the servant... willingly given... you will... revive... your master." He extended his hand, revealing his mangled fingers. With a tight grip, he sliced into his flesh, letting the blood drip into the potion.

Harry grasped the reality unfolding before him. Voldemort was trying to resurrect himself. He recognized the ingredients: his own blood—the blood of an enemy, taken against his will. This was why he had been abducted via the Goblet of Fire. Although puzzling, he knew Voldemort's mind worked differently from his own.

Determined to weaken Voldemort's return, Harry willed himself to think he was offering the blood willingly. It wouldn't ruin the ritual, but hopefully, it would hinder the Dark Lord. Distracted by this thought, he didn't notice Wormtail approach until a dagger sliced open his arm.

"B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will... resurrect your foe." With those words, the trembling man returned to the cauldron, letting Harry's blood drip into the bubbling potion. For a few agonizing seconds, nothing happened. Then, a thick white steam billowed from the cauldron, obscuring everything—until a dark, gaunt figure began to rise.

"Robe me," commanded the chilling, high voice. Lord Voldemort had returned.