Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Heart of the Warrior Book IV
Chapter 38: The Graveyard Duel
0 reviewsHarry Potter/Ninja Turtles 2003 crossover. Read the first three books first. Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts is marked by the return of the Triwizard Tournament. More complete summary in profile.
1Original
Chapter Thirty Eight: The Graveyard Duel.
Harry’s eyes slowly opened. His head hurt like hell from whatever had hit him from behind and it took him a minute to remember exactly where he was. He looked around, a chilling wind causing him to shiver as he looked around the graveyard. Harry’s surroundings looked like something out of an old horror movie. To cap this lovely situation up, Harry found himself tied tightly to a headstone. Struggle as he might, Harry could not pull himself free from his tight binding against the headstone
“Where am I?” muttered Harry before a robed figure with a hood pulled over his face walked into view. “Who are you?”
The hooded figure didn’t answer, muttering to himself as he walked around the graveyard, checking to see if something was in order although Harry was at a loss as to what. Harry took in the freshly dug open grave a few hundred feet away from him and he had a funny feeling that the grave was reserved for him.
“Is everything ready Wormtail?” hissed a cold high voice from behind a gravestone.
“Yes, My Lord,” said the figure from beneath the hood nervously.
Harry’s eyes went wide with anger. He knew exactly who attacked him from behind.
“Wormtail!” yelled Harry. “I don’t know what you hope to accomplish by bringing me here, but once I manage to get free, you’ll pay!”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you Potter,” replied Wormtail coolly.
“Wormtail quit stalling,” hissed the mysterious cold voice. “Gag the boy and proceed with the ritual.”
Wormtail walked up to Harry, ignoring the glares of pure hatred from the boy. As much as he walked to ditch that worthless half blood, he must continue to play the game for a little while longer to lure Voldemort into a false sense of security so Wormtail could finally achieve the greatness that the old man told him he could years ago.
“Now listen here, you traitorous mother fu…” started Harry but he found himself unable to speak as Wormtail stuck a length of material in his mouth, muting Harry’s speech.
“Bring the cauldron over Wormtail,” hissed the cold voice.
“Yes My Lord,” said Wormtail.
“Hurry,” hissed the Dark Lord. “I’m not a patient man Wormtail and I don’t tolerate failure.”
Wormtail quickly double checked the cauldron that contained the crouched bastardized baby version of Lord Voldemort before bringing it out to the center of the Graveyard, right in front of Harry Potter where the boy could see the resurrection of the Dark Lord.
“It’s ready my Lord,” said Wormtail in an excited voice.
“Excellent,” hissed Voldemort. “Proceed with the ritual.”
Harry felt is scar burn on his forehead as Wormtail bent down on the ground before picking up a long bone. Wormtail walked over to the cauldron, dropping the bone inside.
“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, will renew your son!” chanted Wormtail in a monotone voice.
The cauldron bubbled before a sinister cloud of green smoke briefly erupted from the cauldron. The pain in Harry’s scar rose to an insane level and Harry hoped that the cauldron would explode, blasting Wormtail into oblivion.
Wormtail pulled out a large dagger and grimaced as he braced himself for what he had to do next. The things he did for a bit of power. Wormtail raised the dagger before slicing his left hand at the wrist, cutting the hand cleanly off. Blood spurted from where Wormtail’s hand once was and Wormtail used his free hand to remove all the bones from what was once his hand before walking over. The flesh dropped into the cauldron with a thump.
“Flesh-of the servant-willingly given-you will-revive-your-master,” chanted Wormtail, surveying the cauldron as a sinister cloud of blue smoke puffed up into the air signaling that that aspect of the spell.
Wormtail advanced on Harry with the dagger before tearing the sleeve of Harry’s robe. He raised the dagger before plunging it deep into the flesh of Harry, opening a cut on his right arm. Pulling a vile out of his pocket, Wormtail held it underneath Harry’s wound, allowing drops of blood to drop into the vile until it was half full. Wormtail paced over to the cauldron, tipping the vile before dropping Harry’s blood
“The blood of the enemy-forcibly taken-shall resurrect your foe,” chanted Wormtail before watching the smoke in the cauldron slowly turn from blue to red before swirling around.
Harry sat back tied to the gravestone, his head feeling as if it was on fire. Each part of the ritual seemed to cause his scar more and more pain. A blinding glow of pure black energy erupted from the cauldron, obscuring Harry’s vision from the cauldron. A human body slowly dematerialized from the cauldron, surrounded by a swirl of sinister grey smoke.
“Robe me, servant,” hissed Voldemort and Wormtail gladly complied with Voldemort’s orders. After all, he didn’t want to see the Dark Lord in the nude any longer than he had to.
Voldemort stepped out of the cauldron, now clothed in a stylish black and green robe, surveying his surroundings before turning to attention to the figure tied to the gravestone.
“Harry Potter!” hissed Voldemort looking pleased at the fourteen year old boy’s presence in the graveyard. “I welcome you to my rebirth party. It’s a pity this will be the last party you’ll ever attend as the last item on tonight’s agenda is your complete and utter annihilation.”
If Harry had a Knut for every time someone said they would annihilate him, he would be slightly richer than he was right now. Be that as it may, Voldemort motioned for Wormtail to come over.
“Your arm Wormtail,” hissed Voldemort coldly.
“Of course my Lord,” said Wormtail, extending his left arm, the one he cut his hand off.
“The other arm,” hissed Voldemort even more coldly still.
“My Lord…” said Wormtail but he never finished as Voldemort grabbed his right arm before rolling back the sleeve. Voldemort touched a tattoo on Wormtail’s right forearm that looked like a black skull with a snake protruding from its mouth.
Wormtail screamed out in pain from Voldemort touching his dark mark, but Voldemort didn’t seem to care too much. If anything, he seemed rather pleased he was causing Wormtail pain and discomfort. Voldemort turned to address Harry again.
“It’s extremely amusing how things work, young Harry,” said Voldemort calmly as if he was discussing the weather. “Why tonight you are tied to the gravestone of my late father! He was a pitiful man, festered by the limitations of being a pathetic Muggle. Being compared to that piece of utter rubbish, being named after him, it was utter torture having such weakness polluting my bloodline! But I’ve grown sentimental Harry, talking about the past. After all, the future is where it’s at and look, a few friends have decided to join the party. My true family has arrived to meet up with their Lord!”
Dozens of large cracking sounds filtered through the air as figures in black hooded robes along with skull masks obscuring their faces appeared in the graveyard, forming a circle around the proceeding. Most of these Death Eaters appeared quite anxious at what their Lord’s reaction would be.
“My faithful Death Eaters, most of you here and in one piece, all your powers are intact and such prompt appearances to,” said Voldemort calmly. “We are all here, united underneath the Dark Mark, prepared to eradicate all that stands in our way. Are we? NO!”
Voldemort said the last word in a completely sinister hiss with the slits on his face that were his eyes glowing a deep shade of red, causing many of the Death Eaters to back off in terror.
“I was in the forests of Albania, powerless after my setback at the hands of Harry Potter,” said Voldemort. “Alone and powerless, holding out hope that one of my servants may be faithful and find me to restore me to power. Of course, I guess that was too much to hope for. All of you went along with your lives and forgot everything we spent decades working for. You went on with your pitiful lives, forgetting about the Dark Lord. Not one visit, not one attempt to recover me. Hell, I would have settled for a bloody post card from you ungrateful idiots!”
“But the Ministry of Magic, My Lord,” stammered one of the Death Eaters.
“But the Ministry of Magic, My Lord,” mocked Voldemort, in a whiny, sing song voice. “Thirteen years and that is the best you can come with. That is just sad. Really it is. I could have rolled over the Ministry of Magic at any time if I wanted to, I just chose not to. I was amused by the fact that the Ministry bumbled around like idiots, attempting to stop me. Of course, the few near threats that might have put up a decent fight before they were crushed hitched up with Dumbledore’s little bird club, the Order of the Phoenix. Perhaps you thought you could find tranquility with Dumbledore. Perhaps you can find solitude with that manipulative old man.”
Voldemort glared at the Death Eaters who gulped before shaking their head.
“You lie,” hissed Voldemort. “I can smell your fear. I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your whimpering.”
“My Lord, please forgive us,” said a Death Eater, throwing himself on the ground on his knees, begging for forgiveness.
“Crucio!” hissed Voldemort, causing the Death Eater to scream out in pain for about thirty seconds before releasing the curse. The Death Eater trembled still on his knees, severely weakened and Voldemort walked over him before pushing the Death Eater over with his hand. “I never forgive. I never forget but perhaps you can earn your way back into my favor if you pay of the thirteen years worth of debt you accumulated by your inaction. Wormtail, cowardly and useless as he is, already paid a bit of his debt by bringing me back to life. Haven’t you Wormtail?”
Wormtail opened his mouth to speak but Voldemort held up his hand to cut him off.
“That was a rhetorical question Wormtail,” hissed Voldemort coldly before lifting up his wand causing Wormtail to twitch in spite himself. “Still, Lord Voldemort rewards those who assist him.”
Voldemort waved his wand, causing a silvery substance to shoot from it. It swirled around before fusing to Wormtail’s wrist where he cut off his hand. After a couple of seconds it formed into a fully functional hand. Wormtail looked at the hand, looking pleased with his new addition.
“It’s brilliant my Lord,” said Wormtail happily.
“Of course it is, after all the greatest Dark Lord who ever lived made it,” said Voldemort pompously before turning to his followers. “Now I must say, I am pleased you could all make it tonight on such short notice to view my greatest triumph. But first a little reunion is in order. Bellatrix, how nice to see you again! Still as dangerous as ever, I presume.”
“Yes, of course my Lord,” said Bellatrix before giggling madly but Voldemort turned away from Bella’s insanity to talk to another Death Eater.
“Lucius, still the slippery fiend,” said Voldemort. “I hear you got into a small spot of trouble with your son recently, getting expelled from Hogwarts. We’ll going to have a more detailed chat about that later of course.”
“Yes, My Lord,” said Lucius Malfoy nervously as Voldemort turned to his next target.
“Evan…Evan Darthmorth,” said Voldemort. “Your Daily Prophet articles amuse me greatly, smearing the reputations of Mudbloods and Muggle lovers so often. Wormtail read me a collection of them and I found them very enlightening. You will do much more than smear their reputations; you will soon be smearing their blood across the wall under the service of your Lord.”
“Naturally My Lord,” said Darthmorth bowing at his Master.
“MacNair, according to Wormtail, you’re executing dangerous beasts at the Ministry,” said Voldemort. “Soon, you will have the most dangerous game to hunt, man.”
“Excellent my Lord,” said MacNair. “I look forward to the hunt.”
“Speaking of people who like hunting men, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the presence of my favorite werewolf, Fenrir Greyback,” said Voldemort. “Now there’s someone after my own heart.”
“Black, my Lord,” said Greyback, grinning evilly from behind the mask.
“Absolutely,” said Voldemort before turning to Crabbe and Goyle. “I suppose you two will be doing better this time, won’t you Crabbe and Goyle?”
“I can speak for my colleague and myself, that during this go around we will do a bang up job this go around, old bean,” said Goyle as Crabbe nodded dumbly at Goyle’s side.
“Call me old bean one more time and your life will be cut short,” hissed Voldemort in a dangerous voice as his eyes glowed a deep shade of red. “Is that clear?”
“Yes my Lord,” said Goyle, gulping nervously as Crabbe once again nodded dumbly by Goyle’s side.
“So many of you here and so many of you I have yet to address but I shall all get to all in due time,” said Voldemort. “Yet, there are a few among our glorious ranks that were unable to attend this little get together tonight. Sadly, a few of our ranks have since passed on and they truly died in the servitude of their Master, so they are going to remembered fondly for fighting our battle to the last breath. Then, there are others who refused to denounce me and have since become trapped within the walls of Azkaban. Once my plans are set into motion they will be broken free from Azkaban.”
The Death Eaters cheered for their Lord’s plans. Harry attempted to struggle from the gravestone but the ropes bound him tightly to the gravestone.
“However, there are but three that I need to address right now, that aren’t here in this graveyard,” said Voldemort. “One of which is too cowardly to face me, due to the crimes he has levied against you by turning some of my followers into Azkaban for his freedom. He will pay for his treachery against all cause. The second is one that I feel has abandoned me forever, being lead astray from the cause. He will be executed for his crimes against Lord Voldemort. The final person that could not be here tonight remains my most faithful, my most trustworthy servant and is responsible for delivering my guest at this time.”
Voldemort pointed a long skeletal figure at Harry, who shot Voldemort a dirty glare despite being fastened tightly to the gravestone.
“Yes, Harry Potter, my resurrection could not be possible without his presence here tonight,” said Voldemort. “I took his blood, the blood that contained the protection his mother gave him during her vain sacrifice. I should have seen it coming but I was too wrapped up in my work on that Halloween night, fourteen years ago to see what was at hand. No matter now, he is not a threat to me without that protection. I will crush him like an insignificant bug and prove to all of you once and for all how foolish you could be to think that some meddlesome brat could get the better of Lord Voldemort. After all you thought that, didn’t you?”
The Death Eaters shook their heads nervously while murmuring “no, My Lord!”
“SHUT UP!” yelled Voldemort causing his Death Eaters to back off slightly as the sight of the Dark Lord’s eyes glowing red again. “That was a rhetorical question you imbeciles! You would have to think that if you forsaken our cause, if you didn’t come searching for me. But it will be all finished now. No longer will an underage wizard get the better of Lord Voldemort. It ends tonight and in this graveyard. Harry Potter will be allowed to fight and will be given a chance to defend himself, to show each and every one of you the error of your belief that a foolish brat could ever get the better of Lord Voldemort.”
Voldemort looked at the Death Eaters who were all silent and many even held their breath for fear of setting the Dark Lord off again.
“Wormtail untie the boy and give him his wand back,” hissed Voldemort in a commanding tone of voice.
Wormtail obeyed, walking over, using his wand to cut Harry Potter free from his trapped predicament against the gravestone. As much as Wormtail wanted to “accidentally” slice the boy in half, he figured that might not be the best course of action at this present time. Wormtail removed the gag from Harry Potter’s mouth before shoving the wand into Harry’s hand without giving the boy a second glance.
Harry looked at Voldemort who had a sadistic glint in his eye. He had formulated a plan while tied to the gravestone but would that be enough to subdue Voldemort long enough for Harry to escape in one piece. Harry looked to the sheath containing Slytherin’s blade a couple hundred feet away. If he could get to his weapon, he might have a chance against Voldemort.
“You’ve been taught to duel Harry Potter,” hissed Voldemort coldly.
Harry nodded curtly, he knew more than Voldemort would expect a fourth year old boy to know but Harry wondered whether it would be enough as he went toe to toe with the most dangerous Dark Lord in a century.
“Good, now let us bow,” hissed Voldemort.
The Dark Lord inclined his head and Harry bent down to make Voldemort assume he was bowing before shifting into a somersault roll and leaping up, right behind Lord Voldemort. Voldemort did not expect Harry to do something like this and Harry had his wand out, ready to strike Voldemort.
“Spiculum!” yelled Harry, sending a dozen arrows flying from his wand and spiraling towards Voldemort, ready to impale the Dark Lord.
Voldemort waved his wand in a triangular pattern, causing a vibrating pattern of black light to erupt from his wand. The light connected with the arrows, causing the arrows to crumble to dust.
“Crucio!” hissed Voldemort, sending the curse towards Harry. Harry was caught by the curse and he gritted his teeth, attempting to fight out the stabbing pain that was emitting through his body. “Your will is impressive Harry, for not screaming out under the Cruciatus Curse. But mine is stronger and soon you will break because you are only human.”
Voldemort broke the curse, causing Harry to fall to the ground.
“That hurt didn’t it Harry,” said Voldemort mockingly. “Tell me the truth now. What is your answer, boy?”
“Necto!” yelled Harry, causing a chain to shoot from his wand, wrapping around Voldemort, apparently trapping the Dark Lord. Voldemort lazily waved his wand, causing the chain to quickly crumble to dust and the Dark Lord to become free.
“For every little move you have Harry, I have a counter move,” said Voldemort. “Imperio!”
Harry felt a lazy feeling wash over him but he took a few steps back. He was slowly moving himself back, so he could get his hands on Slytherin’s Blade and use it against the Dark Lord.
“Admit that Lord Voldemort is your better Harry Potter,” said Voldemort.
Harry shook his head, which caused Voldemort to so enraged that he broke the Imperius curse.
“You dare defy me Potter,” hissed Voldemort.
“Reducto!” yelled Harry, aiming for Voldemort but Voldemort managed to dodge the spell. Harry winced as his spell hit the Triwizard Cup Portkey, blowing into completely into dust.
Harry’s ticket back to Hogwarts was completely destroyed, inadvertently at his own hands.
“I grow tired of this game Potter,” said Voldemort before raising his wand and wordlessly moving it in a slash like motion, causing Harry to be struck in the side.
Harry fell down, the pain on his side from that curse caused him extreme amounts of pain and for good reason. A deep, gruesome cut on the right side of Harry’s body was open, reaching from beneath his arm all the way down to his hip. Blood gushed out of Harry’s side as he struggled to pull himself up. He was a few feet away from Slytherin’s Blade.
“I think we should wrap this up Potter,” hissed Voldemort.
“Spiculum Incendio!” yelled Harry in a pained voice. A dozen flaming arrows erupted from Harry’s wand. Voldemort managed to cancel the effects of all but two. The first one sailed over Voldemort’s head, doing no harm but the second one impacted right into Voldemort’s left arm, striking Voldemort right in one of the nerves of his arm.
Voldemort gave an angry pained hiss as he tried to pull the arrow out of his wand. The Death Eater spectators in the Graveyard went in a hush. No one had ever harmed Lord Voldemort to the extent where he showed signs of pain!
Harry felt woozy due to the blood loss from the nasty cut he opened but a little pleased due to the fact he harmed Voldemort. Harry bent down, picking up the sheath with the Slytherin’s Blade in it before pulling it out.
“All right Potter, you’ve lived to defy me for long enough!” screamed Voldemort angrily. “Lord Voldemort will wipe you from the face of existence.”
Harry waved Slytherin’s Blade as he glowed a shade of green. Voldemort stopped his rant, eyeing the weapon in awe.
“Slytherin’s Blade,” muttered Voldemort. He had heard of the object before, but he thought he was only a myth. However, if it belonged to Slytherin, then it would be Voldemort’s. He had killed for artifacts that belonged to Slytherin before and this would be no exception. “Give me the Blade, boy and I might make your end a little more pleasant.”
Harry waved the blade, attempting to figure out how exactly to fire it up. When he had it in the Chamber of Secrets, it just sort of worked spontaneously.
“Crucio!” hissed Voldemort but a dome of pure magical energy appeared around Harry Potter, causing the light to ricochet off back towards Voldemort. Voldemort’s eyes widened before quickly summoning a gravestone to take the brunt of the curse. The curse crumbled into dust.
Harry looked at Slytherin’s Blade and he just remembered something. Slytherin’s Blade was what protected him when Lockhart attacked him and Ginny and attempted to wipe their memories clean after the Chamber of Secrets incident. Still, it may have protected him but to hold onto the Blade for an extended period of time felt extremely draining.
Voldemort looked at Potter. Slytherin’s Blade had apparently protected the boy from harm, so he could grab it from the boy without using magic. He turned to his Death Eaters.
“Get the sword away from the boy,” hissed Voldemort. “Use any means necessary except for magic. I must have Slytherin’s Blade!”
The Death Eaters closed in to attempt to swipe Slytherin’s Blade for their Master but Harry concentrated hard attempting to get the Blade to work, despite the fact it was wearing on Harry to actually hold onto Slytherin’s Blade. Harry concentrated, finally getting the blade to glow a sinister red shade before erupting into flames.
“What?” hissed Voldemort, looking at the Blade which was now completely on fire.
Harry pointed Slytherin’s Blade towards Voldemort as the flames shot up in every which direction causing the Death Eaters to back off. Voldemort refused to back down and a large ball of fire erupted from the Blade, impacting Voldemort. Voldemort gave a blood curdling scream as the fireball hit him, as he lit up like a human torch. The fire apparently burned Voldemort to a crisp.
Harry backed off as the effects of the fireball slowly disappeared, as Voldemort was on his hands and knees apparently motionless. A couple of seconds later, Voldemort pulled himself to his feet, smoke rising up from his robes and the sickening smell of rotting burnt flesh filling the graveyard. Some of the Death Eaters became violently ill due to the stink of Voldemort’s rotting burnt flesh.
The mystic properties of Slytherin’s Blade went straight through Voldemort’s robes, burning his flesh to a crisp, barbequing the Dark Lord. Yet, Voldemort was still alive and he wasn’t too happy with Harry Potter right now.
Harry had a feeling of being light headed due to the loss of blood and the strain of holding Slytherin’s Blade was not helping.
“Potter!” hissed Voldemort angrily. “Did you really think that lighting me on fire could get the better of me?”
Harry managed to roll behind the gravestone, putting Slytherin’s Blade back into the sheath while strapping it to his back as Harry couldn’t physically hold onto the Blade any longer.
“Come on Harry, come out and play,” hissed Voldemort, rotting flesh clinging to his skull. “This isn’t a game of hide and seek. Harry, this is the end of you tonight.”
Harry pulled himself out from behind the gravestone, wand raised at Voldemort, holding onto the gravestone due to being weakened from losing so much blood by way of that nasty cut on the right side of his body.
“Tom, it’s not the end until I lay dead, no longer able to breath,” said Harry in a definite, but strained tone of voice.
“What did you call me?” asked Voldemort in a dangerous voice. The Potter boy didn’t fear him as he should, calling him by that pathetic Muggle name. Voldemort would make the boy pay for mocking the most dangerous Dark Lord ever!
“I called you Tom,” said Harry, pulling himself up while formulating a plan to get himself out of the Graveyard. “After all, do you think I should call you Lord Voldemort or the Dark Lord or You-Know-Who? No, I don’t fear you or respect you one bit, Tom. You’re aim is so bad with that Killing Curse of yours is so poor that you couldn’t kill a fifteen month old baby.”
“You dare mock me,” hissed Voldemort.
“Yes,” said Harry. “You couldn’t kill me then and I don’t think you have the power to kill me now, Tom.”
“Avada Kedavra!” hissed Voldemort. A jet of green light erupted from Voldemort’s wand. He would make Potter pay for mocking him in front of all of his Death Eaters.
“Accio,” muttered Harry, pointing his wand toward a random Death Eater. Normally the summoning charm wasn’t supposed to be used on people because it would break every bone in their body but Harry really did not give a damn about if he hurt these Death Eaters or not.
The Death Eater looked horrified as he was jerked right in front of Harry and took the full blast of the Killing Curse. He slumped to the ground, dead but Voldemort didn’t seem to be too concerned.
“Really Tom,” said Harry, saying the second word louder than the first. “You don’t have enough power in your charred body to fire off more Killing Curses then I have Death Eaters to block them with.”
Voldemort considered Potter’s point and reluctantly agreed with him. So Voldemort had only one other option. He turned to his Death Eaters.
“Subdue the boy,” hissed Voldemort to his Death Eaters. “Do not kill him, that privilege will be mine and mine alone!”
The Death Eaters wildly fired curses off in every which way but Harry managed to flip out of sight behind a row of gravestones.
“He’s back there somewhere,” hissed Voldemort. “Take out his hiding place and then get him!”
Harry closed his eyes concentrating. The Triwizard Cup Portkey had been destroyed. He didn’t have his Portus-Amulet with him. Harry only had one other option to get out of here and get back to Hogwarts. The problem was Harry hadn’t tried this before, he had only read the theory behind it. He planned to practice it over the summer.
The row of gravestones shattered into millions of fragments, blowing Harry’s cover. Harry had no choice; he had to try to achieve the impossible by Apparating out of here and into Hogwarts.
Harry concentrated, it seemed as if Voldemort had put an Anti-Apparation field around the graveyard but still Harry was going to either going to kill himself trying or prove Hogwarts: A History wrong.
“Avada Kedavra!” yelled Voldemort, sending the green jet of light towards Harry but a second before it would have connected with the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry vanished in thin air, Apparating away from the Killing Curse.
A moment later, Harry dropped down at Hogwarts, looking battered from blowing right through to Anti-Apparation fields in a row before reaching his destination at Hogwarts. The crowd looked at Harry, wondering what had just happened to him. Harry felt it was a miracle he didn’t splinch himself Apparating under circumstances like that during his first attempt.
Harry found himself to weakened, unable to stand to stand, both from the blood loss and all the magical energy he used blasting through the two Anti-Apparation fields. His knees buckled, before passing out completely from the magical exhaustion from achieving what many thought to be impossible.
Harry’s eyes slowly opened. His head hurt like hell from whatever had hit him from behind and it took him a minute to remember exactly where he was. He looked around, a chilling wind causing him to shiver as he looked around the graveyard. Harry’s surroundings looked like something out of an old horror movie. To cap this lovely situation up, Harry found himself tied tightly to a headstone. Struggle as he might, Harry could not pull himself free from his tight binding against the headstone
“Where am I?” muttered Harry before a robed figure with a hood pulled over his face walked into view. “Who are you?”
The hooded figure didn’t answer, muttering to himself as he walked around the graveyard, checking to see if something was in order although Harry was at a loss as to what. Harry took in the freshly dug open grave a few hundred feet away from him and he had a funny feeling that the grave was reserved for him.
“Is everything ready Wormtail?” hissed a cold high voice from behind a gravestone.
“Yes, My Lord,” said the figure from beneath the hood nervously.
Harry’s eyes went wide with anger. He knew exactly who attacked him from behind.
“Wormtail!” yelled Harry. “I don’t know what you hope to accomplish by bringing me here, but once I manage to get free, you’ll pay!”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you Potter,” replied Wormtail coolly.
“Wormtail quit stalling,” hissed the mysterious cold voice. “Gag the boy and proceed with the ritual.”
Wormtail walked up to Harry, ignoring the glares of pure hatred from the boy. As much as he walked to ditch that worthless half blood, he must continue to play the game for a little while longer to lure Voldemort into a false sense of security so Wormtail could finally achieve the greatness that the old man told him he could years ago.
“Now listen here, you traitorous mother fu…” started Harry but he found himself unable to speak as Wormtail stuck a length of material in his mouth, muting Harry’s speech.
“Bring the cauldron over Wormtail,” hissed the cold voice.
“Yes My Lord,” said Wormtail.
“Hurry,” hissed the Dark Lord. “I’m not a patient man Wormtail and I don’t tolerate failure.”
Wormtail quickly double checked the cauldron that contained the crouched bastardized baby version of Lord Voldemort before bringing it out to the center of the Graveyard, right in front of Harry Potter where the boy could see the resurrection of the Dark Lord.
“It’s ready my Lord,” said Wormtail in an excited voice.
“Excellent,” hissed Voldemort. “Proceed with the ritual.”
Harry felt is scar burn on his forehead as Wormtail bent down on the ground before picking up a long bone. Wormtail walked over to the cauldron, dropping the bone inside.
“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, will renew your son!” chanted Wormtail in a monotone voice.
The cauldron bubbled before a sinister cloud of green smoke briefly erupted from the cauldron. The pain in Harry’s scar rose to an insane level and Harry hoped that the cauldron would explode, blasting Wormtail into oblivion.
Wormtail pulled out a large dagger and grimaced as he braced himself for what he had to do next. The things he did for a bit of power. Wormtail raised the dagger before slicing his left hand at the wrist, cutting the hand cleanly off. Blood spurted from where Wormtail’s hand once was and Wormtail used his free hand to remove all the bones from what was once his hand before walking over. The flesh dropped into the cauldron with a thump.
“Flesh-of the servant-willingly given-you will-revive-your-master,” chanted Wormtail, surveying the cauldron as a sinister cloud of blue smoke puffed up into the air signaling that that aspect of the spell.
Wormtail advanced on Harry with the dagger before tearing the sleeve of Harry’s robe. He raised the dagger before plunging it deep into the flesh of Harry, opening a cut on his right arm. Pulling a vile out of his pocket, Wormtail held it underneath Harry’s wound, allowing drops of blood to drop into the vile until it was half full. Wormtail paced over to the cauldron, tipping the vile before dropping Harry’s blood
“The blood of the enemy-forcibly taken-shall resurrect your foe,” chanted Wormtail before watching the smoke in the cauldron slowly turn from blue to red before swirling around.
Harry sat back tied to the gravestone, his head feeling as if it was on fire. Each part of the ritual seemed to cause his scar more and more pain. A blinding glow of pure black energy erupted from the cauldron, obscuring Harry’s vision from the cauldron. A human body slowly dematerialized from the cauldron, surrounded by a swirl of sinister grey smoke.
“Robe me, servant,” hissed Voldemort and Wormtail gladly complied with Voldemort’s orders. After all, he didn’t want to see the Dark Lord in the nude any longer than he had to.
Voldemort stepped out of the cauldron, now clothed in a stylish black and green robe, surveying his surroundings before turning to attention to the figure tied to the gravestone.
“Harry Potter!” hissed Voldemort looking pleased at the fourteen year old boy’s presence in the graveyard. “I welcome you to my rebirth party. It’s a pity this will be the last party you’ll ever attend as the last item on tonight’s agenda is your complete and utter annihilation.”
If Harry had a Knut for every time someone said they would annihilate him, he would be slightly richer than he was right now. Be that as it may, Voldemort motioned for Wormtail to come over.
“Your arm Wormtail,” hissed Voldemort coldly.
“Of course my Lord,” said Wormtail, extending his left arm, the one he cut his hand off.
“The other arm,” hissed Voldemort even more coldly still.
“My Lord…” said Wormtail but he never finished as Voldemort grabbed his right arm before rolling back the sleeve. Voldemort touched a tattoo on Wormtail’s right forearm that looked like a black skull with a snake protruding from its mouth.
Wormtail screamed out in pain from Voldemort touching his dark mark, but Voldemort didn’t seem to care too much. If anything, he seemed rather pleased he was causing Wormtail pain and discomfort. Voldemort turned to address Harry again.
“It’s extremely amusing how things work, young Harry,” said Voldemort calmly as if he was discussing the weather. “Why tonight you are tied to the gravestone of my late father! He was a pitiful man, festered by the limitations of being a pathetic Muggle. Being compared to that piece of utter rubbish, being named after him, it was utter torture having such weakness polluting my bloodline! But I’ve grown sentimental Harry, talking about the past. After all, the future is where it’s at and look, a few friends have decided to join the party. My true family has arrived to meet up with their Lord!”
Dozens of large cracking sounds filtered through the air as figures in black hooded robes along with skull masks obscuring their faces appeared in the graveyard, forming a circle around the proceeding. Most of these Death Eaters appeared quite anxious at what their Lord’s reaction would be.
“My faithful Death Eaters, most of you here and in one piece, all your powers are intact and such prompt appearances to,” said Voldemort calmly. “We are all here, united underneath the Dark Mark, prepared to eradicate all that stands in our way. Are we? NO!”
Voldemort said the last word in a completely sinister hiss with the slits on his face that were his eyes glowing a deep shade of red, causing many of the Death Eaters to back off in terror.
“I was in the forests of Albania, powerless after my setback at the hands of Harry Potter,” said Voldemort. “Alone and powerless, holding out hope that one of my servants may be faithful and find me to restore me to power. Of course, I guess that was too much to hope for. All of you went along with your lives and forgot everything we spent decades working for. You went on with your pitiful lives, forgetting about the Dark Lord. Not one visit, not one attempt to recover me. Hell, I would have settled for a bloody post card from you ungrateful idiots!”
“But the Ministry of Magic, My Lord,” stammered one of the Death Eaters.
“But the Ministry of Magic, My Lord,” mocked Voldemort, in a whiny, sing song voice. “Thirteen years and that is the best you can come with. That is just sad. Really it is. I could have rolled over the Ministry of Magic at any time if I wanted to, I just chose not to. I was amused by the fact that the Ministry bumbled around like idiots, attempting to stop me. Of course, the few near threats that might have put up a decent fight before they were crushed hitched up with Dumbledore’s little bird club, the Order of the Phoenix. Perhaps you thought you could find tranquility with Dumbledore. Perhaps you can find solitude with that manipulative old man.”
Voldemort glared at the Death Eaters who gulped before shaking their head.
“You lie,” hissed Voldemort. “I can smell your fear. I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your whimpering.”
“My Lord, please forgive us,” said a Death Eater, throwing himself on the ground on his knees, begging for forgiveness.
“Crucio!” hissed Voldemort, causing the Death Eater to scream out in pain for about thirty seconds before releasing the curse. The Death Eater trembled still on his knees, severely weakened and Voldemort walked over him before pushing the Death Eater over with his hand. “I never forgive. I never forget but perhaps you can earn your way back into my favor if you pay of the thirteen years worth of debt you accumulated by your inaction. Wormtail, cowardly and useless as he is, already paid a bit of his debt by bringing me back to life. Haven’t you Wormtail?”
Wormtail opened his mouth to speak but Voldemort held up his hand to cut him off.
“That was a rhetorical question Wormtail,” hissed Voldemort coldly before lifting up his wand causing Wormtail to twitch in spite himself. “Still, Lord Voldemort rewards those who assist him.”
Voldemort waved his wand, causing a silvery substance to shoot from it. It swirled around before fusing to Wormtail’s wrist where he cut off his hand. After a couple of seconds it formed into a fully functional hand. Wormtail looked at the hand, looking pleased with his new addition.
“It’s brilliant my Lord,” said Wormtail happily.
“Of course it is, after all the greatest Dark Lord who ever lived made it,” said Voldemort pompously before turning to his followers. “Now I must say, I am pleased you could all make it tonight on such short notice to view my greatest triumph. But first a little reunion is in order. Bellatrix, how nice to see you again! Still as dangerous as ever, I presume.”
“Yes, of course my Lord,” said Bellatrix before giggling madly but Voldemort turned away from Bella’s insanity to talk to another Death Eater.
“Lucius, still the slippery fiend,” said Voldemort. “I hear you got into a small spot of trouble with your son recently, getting expelled from Hogwarts. We’ll going to have a more detailed chat about that later of course.”
“Yes, My Lord,” said Lucius Malfoy nervously as Voldemort turned to his next target.
“Evan…Evan Darthmorth,” said Voldemort. “Your Daily Prophet articles amuse me greatly, smearing the reputations of Mudbloods and Muggle lovers so often. Wormtail read me a collection of them and I found them very enlightening. You will do much more than smear their reputations; you will soon be smearing their blood across the wall under the service of your Lord.”
“Naturally My Lord,” said Darthmorth bowing at his Master.
“MacNair, according to Wormtail, you’re executing dangerous beasts at the Ministry,” said Voldemort. “Soon, you will have the most dangerous game to hunt, man.”
“Excellent my Lord,” said MacNair. “I look forward to the hunt.”
“Speaking of people who like hunting men, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the presence of my favorite werewolf, Fenrir Greyback,” said Voldemort. “Now there’s someone after my own heart.”
“Black, my Lord,” said Greyback, grinning evilly from behind the mask.
“Absolutely,” said Voldemort before turning to Crabbe and Goyle. “I suppose you two will be doing better this time, won’t you Crabbe and Goyle?”
“I can speak for my colleague and myself, that during this go around we will do a bang up job this go around, old bean,” said Goyle as Crabbe nodded dumbly at Goyle’s side.
“Call me old bean one more time and your life will be cut short,” hissed Voldemort in a dangerous voice as his eyes glowed a deep shade of red. “Is that clear?”
“Yes my Lord,” said Goyle, gulping nervously as Crabbe once again nodded dumbly by Goyle’s side.
“So many of you here and so many of you I have yet to address but I shall all get to all in due time,” said Voldemort. “Yet, there are a few among our glorious ranks that were unable to attend this little get together tonight. Sadly, a few of our ranks have since passed on and they truly died in the servitude of their Master, so they are going to remembered fondly for fighting our battle to the last breath. Then, there are others who refused to denounce me and have since become trapped within the walls of Azkaban. Once my plans are set into motion they will be broken free from Azkaban.”
The Death Eaters cheered for their Lord’s plans. Harry attempted to struggle from the gravestone but the ropes bound him tightly to the gravestone.
“However, there are but three that I need to address right now, that aren’t here in this graveyard,” said Voldemort. “One of which is too cowardly to face me, due to the crimes he has levied against you by turning some of my followers into Azkaban for his freedom. He will pay for his treachery against all cause. The second is one that I feel has abandoned me forever, being lead astray from the cause. He will be executed for his crimes against Lord Voldemort. The final person that could not be here tonight remains my most faithful, my most trustworthy servant and is responsible for delivering my guest at this time.”
Voldemort pointed a long skeletal figure at Harry, who shot Voldemort a dirty glare despite being fastened tightly to the gravestone.
“Yes, Harry Potter, my resurrection could not be possible without his presence here tonight,” said Voldemort. “I took his blood, the blood that contained the protection his mother gave him during her vain sacrifice. I should have seen it coming but I was too wrapped up in my work on that Halloween night, fourteen years ago to see what was at hand. No matter now, he is not a threat to me without that protection. I will crush him like an insignificant bug and prove to all of you once and for all how foolish you could be to think that some meddlesome brat could get the better of Lord Voldemort. After all you thought that, didn’t you?”
The Death Eaters shook their heads nervously while murmuring “no, My Lord!”
“SHUT UP!” yelled Voldemort causing his Death Eaters to back off slightly as the sight of the Dark Lord’s eyes glowing red again. “That was a rhetorical question you imbeciles! You would have to think that if you forsaken our cause, if you didn’t come searching for me. But it will be all finished now. No longer will an underage wizard get the better of Lord Voldemort. It ends tonight and in this graveyard. Harry Potter will be allowed to fight and will be given a chance to defend himself, to show each and every one of you the error of your belief that a foolish brat could ever get the better of Lord Voldemort.”
Voldemort looked at the Death Eaters who were all silent and many even held their breath for fear of setting the Dark Lord off again.
“Wormtail untie the boy and give him his wand back,” hissed Voldemort in a commanding tone of voice.
Wormtail obeyed, walking over, using his wand to cut Harry Potter free from his trapped predicament against the gravestone. As much as Wormtail wanted to “accidentally” slice the boy in half, he figured that might not be the best course of action at this present time. Wormtail removed the gag from Harry Potter’s mouth before shoving the wand into Harry’s hand without giving the boy a second glance.
Harry looked at Voldemort who had a sadistic glint in his eye. He had formulated a plan while tied to the gravestone but would that be enough to subdue Voldemort long enough for Harry to escape in one piece. Harry looked to the sheath containing Slytherin’s blade a couple hundred feet away. If he could get to his weapon, he might have a chance against Voldemort.
“You’ve been taught to duel Harry Potter,” hissed Voldemort coldly.
Harry nodded curtly, he knew more than Voldemort would expect a fourth year old boy to know but Harry wondered whether it would be enough as he went toe to toe with the most dangerous Dark Lord in a century.
“Good, now let us bow,” hissed Voldemort.
The Dark Lord inclined his head and Harry bent down to make Voldemort assume he was bowing before shifting into a somersault roll and leaping up, right behind Lord Voldemort. Voldemort did not expect Harry to do something like this and Harry had his wand out, ready to strike Voldemort.
“Spiculum!” yelled Harry, sending a dozen arrows flying from his wand and spiraling towards Voldemort, ready to impale the Dark Lord.
Voldemort waved his wand in a triangular pattern, causing a vibrating pattern of black light to erupt from his wand. The light connected with the arrows, causing the arrows to crumble to dust.
“Crucio!” hissed Voldemort, sending the curse towards Harry. Harry was caught by the curse and he gritted his teeth, attempting to fight out the stabbing pain that was emitting through his body. “Your will is impressive Harry, for not screaming out under the Cruciatus Curse. But mine is stronger and soon you will break because you are only human.”
Voldemort broke the curse, causing Harry to fall to the ground.
“That hurt didn’t it Harry,” said Voldemort mockingly. “Tell me the truth now. What is your answer, boy?”
“Necto!” yelled Harry, causing a chain to shoot from his wand, wrapping around Voldemort, apparently trapping the Dark Lord. Voldemort lazily waved his wand, causing the chain to quickly crumble to dust and the Dark Lord to become free.
“For every little move you have Harry, I have a counter move,” said Voldemort. “Imperio!”
Harry felt a lazy feeling wash over him but he took a few steps back. He was slowly moving himself back, so he could get his hands on Slytherin’s Blade and use it against the Dark Lord.
“Admit that Lord Voldemort is your better Harry Potter,” said Voldemort.
Harry shook his head, which caused Voldemort to so enraged that he broke the Imperius curse.
“You dare defy me Potter,” hissed Voldemort.
“Reducto!” yelled Harry, aiming for Voldemort but Voldemort managed to dodge the spell. Harry winced as his spell hit the Triwizard Cup Portkey, blowing into completely into dust.
Harry’s ticket back to Hogwarts was completely destroyed, inadvertently at his own hands.
“I grow tired of this game Potter,” said Voldemort before raising his wand and wordlessly moving it in a slash like motion, causing Harry to be struck in the side.
Harry fell down, the pain on his side from that curse caused him extreme amounts of pain and for good reason. A deep, gruesome cut on the right side of Harry’s body was open, reaching from beneath his arm all the way down to his hip. Blood gushed out of Harry’s side as he struggled to pull himself up. He was a few feet away from Slytherin’s Blade.
“I think we should wrap this up Potter,” hissed Voldemort.
“Spiculum Incendio!” yelled Harry in a pained voice. A dozen flaming arrows erupted from Harry’s wand. Voldemort managed to cancel the effects of all but two. The first one sailed over Voldemort’s head, doing no harm but the second one impacted right into Voldemort’s left arm, striking Voldemort right in one of the nerves of his arm.
Voldemort gave an angry pained hiss as he tried to pull the arrow out of his wand. The Death Eater spectators in the Graveyard went in a hush. No one had ever harmed Lord Voldemort to the extent where he showed signs of pain!
Harry felt woozy due to the blood loss from the nasty cut he opened but a little pleased due to the fact he harmed Voldemort. Harry bent down, picking up the sheath with the Slytherin’s Blade in it before pulling it out.
“All right Potter, you’ve lived to defy me for long enough!” screamed Voldemort angrily. “Lord Voldemort will wipe you from the face of existence.”
Harry waved Slytherin’s Blade as he glowed a shade of green. Voldemort stopped his rant, eyeing the weapon in awe.
“Slytherin’s Blade,” muttered Voldemort. He had heard of the object before, but he thought he was only a myth. However, if it belonged to Slytherin, then it would be Voldemort’s. He had killed for artifacts that belonged to Slytherin before and this would be no exception. “Give me the Blade, boy and I might make your end a little more pleasant.”
Harry waved the blade, attempting to figure out how exactly to fire it up. When he had it in the Chamber of Secrets, it just sort of worked spontaneously.
“Crucio!” hissed Voldemort but a dome of pure magical energy appeared around Harry Potter, causing the light to ricochet off back towards Voldemort. Voldemort’s eyes widened before quickly summoning a gravestone to take the brunt of the curse. The curse crumbled into dust.
Harry looked at Slytherin’s Blade and he just remembered something. Slytherin’s Blade was what protected him when Lockhart attacked him and Ginny and attempted to wipe their memories clean after the Chamber of Secrets incident. Still, it may have protected him but to hold onto the Blade for an extended period of time felt extremely draining.
Voldemort looked at Potter. Slytherin’s Blade had apparently protected the boy from harm, so he could grab it from the boy without using magic. He turned to his Death Eaters.
“Get the sword away from the boy,” hissed Voldemort. “Use any means necessary except for magic. I must have Slytherin’s Blade!”
The Death Eaters closed in to attempt to swipe Slytherin’s Blade for their Master but Harry concentrated hard attempting to get the Blade to work, despite the fact it was wearing on Harry to actually hold onto Slytherin’s Blade. Harry concentrated, finally getting the blade to glow a sinister red shade before erupting into flames.
“What?” hissed Voldemort, looking at the Blade which was now completely on fire.
Harry pointed Slytherin’s Blade towards Voldemort as the flames shot up in every which direction causing the Death Eaters to back off. Voldemort refused to back down and a large ball of fire erupted from the Blade, impacting Voldemort. Voldemort gave a blood curdling scream as the fireball hit him, as he lit up like a human torch. The fire apparently burned Voldemort to a crisp.
Harry backed off as the effects of the fireball slowly disappeared, as Voldemort was on his hands and knees apparently motionless. A couple of seconds later, Voldemort pulled himself to his feet, smoke rising up from his robes and the sickening smell of rotting burnt flesh filling the graveyard. Some of the Death Eaters became violently ill due to the stink of Voldemort’s rotting burnt flesh.
The mystic properties of Slytherin’s Blade went straight through Voldemort’s robes, burning his flesh to a crisp, barbequing the Dark Lord. Yet, Voldemort was still alive and he wasn’t too happy with Harry Potter right now.
Harry had a feeling of being light headed due to the loss of blood and the strain of holding Slytherin’s Blade was not helping.
“Potter!” hissed Voldemort angrily. “Did you really think that lighting me on fire could get the better of me?”
Harry managed to roll behind the gravestone, putting Slytherin’s Blade back into the sheath while strapping it to his back as Harry couldn’t physically hold onto the Blade any longer.
“Come on Harry, come out and play,” hissed Voldemort, rotting flesh clinging to his skull. “This isn’t a game of hide and seek. Harry, this is the end of you tonight.”
Harry pulled himself out from behind the gravestone, wand raised at Voldemort, holding onto the gravestone due to being weakened from losing so much blood by way of that nasty cut on the right side of his body.
“Tom, it’s not the end until I lay dead, no longer able to breath,” said Harry in a definite, but strained tone of voice.
“What did you call me?” asked Voldemort in a dangerous voice. The Potter boy didn’t fear him as he should, calling him by that pathetic Muggle name. Voldemort would make the boy pay for mocking the most dangerous Dark Lord ever!
“I called you Tom,” said Harry, pulling himself up while formulating a plan to get himself out of the Graveyard. “After all, do you think I should call you Lord Voldemort or the Dark Lord or You-Know-Who? No, I don’t fear you or respect you one bit, Tom. You’re aim is so bad with that Killing Curse of yours is so poor that you couldn’t kill a fifteen month old baby.”
“You dare mock me,” hissed Voldemort.
“Yes,” said Harry. “You couldn’t kill me then and I don’t think you have the power to kill me now, Tom.”
“Avada Kedavra!” hissed Voldemort. A jet of green light erupted from Voldemort’s wand. He would make Potter pay for mocking him in front of all of his Death Eaters.
“Accio,” muttered Harry, pointing his wand toward a random Death Eater. Normally the summoning charm wasn’t supposed to be used on people because it would break every bone in their body but Harry really did not give a damn about if he hurt these Death Eaters or not.
The Death Eater looked horrified as he was jerked right in front of Harry and took the full blast of the Killing Curse. He slumped to the ground, dead but Voldemort didn’t seem to be too concerned.
“Really Tom,” said Harry, saying the second word louder than the first. “You don’t have enough power in your charred body to fire off more Killing Curses then I have Death Eaters to block them with.”
Voldemort considered Potter’s point and reluctantly agreed with him. So Voldemort had only one other option. He turned to his Death Eaters.
“Subdue the boy,” hissed Voldemort to his Death Eaters. “Do not kill him, that privilege will be mine and mine alone!”
The Death Eaters wildly fired curses off in every which way but Harry managed to flip out of sight behind a row of gravestones.
“He’s back there somewhere,” hissed Voldemort. “Take out his hiding place and then get him!”
Harry closed his eyes concentrating. The Triwizard Cup Portkey had been destroyed. He didn’t have his Portus-Amulet with him. Harry only had one other option to get out of here and get back to Hogwarts. The problem was Harry hadn’t tried this before, he had only read the theory behind it. He planned to practice it over the summer.
The row of gravestones shattered into millions of fragments, blowing Harry’s cover. Harry had no choice; he had to try to achieve the impossible by Apparating out of here and into Hogwarts.
Harry concentrated, it seemed as if Voldemort had put an Anti-Apparation field around the graveyard but still Harry was going to either going to kill himself trying or prove Hogwarts: A History wrong.
“Avada Kedavra!” yelled Voldemort, sending the green jet of light towards Harry but a second before it would have connected with the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry vanished in thin air, Apparating away from the Killing Curse.
A moment later, Harry dropped down at Hogwarts, looking battered from blowing right through to Anti-Apparation fields in a row before reaching his destination at Hogwarts. The crowd looked at Harry, wondering what had just happened to him. Harry felt it was a miracle he didn’t splinch himself Apparating under circumstances like that during his first attempt.
Harry found himself to weakened, unable to stand to stand, both from the blood loss and all the magical energy he used blasting through the two Anti-Apparation fields. His knees buckled, before passing out completely from the magical exhaustion from achieving what many thought to be impossible.
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