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SIYE Time:10:00 on 29th March 2024
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Return of an Alpha
By Miz636

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama
Warnings: Death, Mild Language
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 409
Summary: For three years, Harry has been Becoming Alpha of Hogwarts. Now another Alpha is returning, bringing with him darkness, chaos, and battle. Watch as sides line up for war, and people and society change.
Hitcount: Story Total: 169570; Chapter Total: 3812





Author's Notes:
A good portion of this chapter comes from Chapters 33 and 34 of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I know many of you might not want to read those scenes over again, but I’ve got my own additions mixed in with JRK’s, so as boring as it is, it would be to your benefit to read it all just so you don’t miss something like Harry’s thoughts. Enjoy.

Thanks to Arnel for editing this.




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Chapter Thirty


Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cats, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant.

He completely ignored Pettigrew, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, and the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry again, hissing no words. Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Pettigrew, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying.

Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

Harry kept his face blank even as he fought back the slight pain in his scar and the emotions that were whirling around in his mind from everything that had happened since he had entered the maze. His Occlumency training was the only thing stopping him from giving away everything he felt to Voldemort, and he knew it, so Harry put extra effort into his shield.

Of course, that weird shivering of his soul wasn’t helping…

Blinking once to show his shock, Harry tried to figure out what was making him feel like that. Moving his eyes down again, Harry saw the snake, and that was when it clicked.

The snake was a Horcrux.

"My Lord…" Pettigrew choked, "my Lord… you promised… you did promise…" Harry looked up and saw that Pettigrew had wrapped his now blood-stained robes around his stump of a wrist.

"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh Master… thank you, Master…"

He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again. Harry could tell that, if Voldemort was going to do something to help Pettigrew, he would only do it after making Pettigrew realize who had the power of the two and also what Voldemort could do to him if he wished. This was Voldemort’s way of showing his power over one of his servants, it seemed.

"The other arm, Wormtail."

"Master, please… please…"

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Pettigrew's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Pettigrew's robes up past his elbow, and Harry saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth - the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Pettigrew's uncontrollable weeping.

"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it… and now, we shall see… now we shall know…"

He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Pettigrew's arm.

The scar on Harry’s forehead seared with a sharp pain again, though he hid it well, and Pettigrew let out a fresh howl; Voldemort removed his fingers from Pettigrew's mark, and Harry saw that it had turned jet black. He had an odd feeling that Voldemort had just sent out a signal to all, which meant Professor Snape would either be coming or playing his part of a spy well by coming late with his excuses.

A look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Voldemort straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

He began to pace up and down before Harry and Pettigrew, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, he looked down at Harry again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face.

“Harry Potter, we meet at last,” he hissed, though in English, not in Parseltongue, despite how at home it would seem with his snake-like face. A white hand reached forward and ripped out the rag in Harry’s mouth, allowing him to breathe properly and speak if he wished.

“You aren’t what I was expecting,” he said softly, crimson eyes looking Harry over, taking care to notice the color of his clothes. “Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, a Slytherin!” Voldemort jeered. “No one was expecting that, I’d wager.”

“No, they weren’t,” Harry said softly, a grin forming on his lips as he remembered the shock after his Sorting. He knew this wasn’t the time to be reminiscing, but he knew that he had to act like a Slytherin right now, at least until he could get away.

“From what I’ve heard, you’re a very ambitious boy,” Voldemort hissed. “Doing the unthinkable by changing Hogwarts, I hear.”

Instead of answering, Harry kept his face blank. He knew that explaining about not only the Houses being united but also the different ancestry would turn Voldemort against him in an instant, bringing his death before he could fight to get away with it.

“You like power, Harry, that much is obvious,” Voldemort said, a small smile on his lips. Harry thought it only made him look freakier than before, but he said and gave away nothing.

“Join me, and you can have power, Harry,” Voldemort said in a soft voice, and Harry realized what he was trying to do. If Harry was on Voldemort’s side as a trusted servant, the Prophecy would never happen, and Voldemort would get whatever talents Harry might have.

“Together we could do much,” Voldemort continued. “Together we could bring your parents back.”

Deep down, Harry knew that he wanted his parents back, he wanted to get to know them for himself instead of through others, but even deeper down, just below that wish, all Harry could see was the truth: They were gone and there was no way to truly bring them back. No matter how much he wished he could have his parents, Harry knew that they were dead and could only watch over him now.

“Only with the darkest of Magics,” Harry whispered, his eyes on the snake slowly circling him. “The snake is a Horcrux,” he muttered under his breath, barely moving his lips as he hoped to whomever was watching over him that Tracey was there to erase the line after reading it and that Dumbledore hadn’t seen it.

“Yes, well, think on my offer to join my family as the rest of it returns,” Voldemort said, spinning around as he gestured up into the air. Around them, the air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward… slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes. Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes.

"Master… Master," he murmured.

The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Harry, Voldemort, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was Pettigrew. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people. Voldemort, however, did not seem to expect more. He looked around at the hooded faces, and the circle appeared to shiver, the clearing very quiet, almost silent, as everyone waited.



“He’s back,” Tracey murmured under her breath, staring at the parchment that Graham was holding out on the table in front of him, rolling it up almost constantly to keep up with the ink that was charmed into it as it wrote.

“We’re in trouble,” Maya agreed softly, nodding as she read over Graham’s other shoulder.

All Tracey could do was watch the words and listen to Graham’s voice as Lord Voldemort talked about Harry’s being a Slytherin and how he had a wish for power. Those who knew Harry understood that he did want power, he did want the Houses united, but they also knew that Harry could understand when he had too much power or when he was abusing it in ways he didn’t need to use it at the time. Harry’s good heart clashed with his ambition, keeping it in check and making him into the kind of leader that even the most noble were willing to follow, and it wasn’t just because of his power.

“And Riddle is now offering to…” Graham hesitated as he read the line, and Tracey understood, but he went on after only a moment. “He’s offering to help Harry bring his parents back.”

To most in the audience who didn’t realize that Tom Riddle was Lord Voldemort but understood that he was a Dark Wizard, they were mainly worried because they didn’t think anyone would be able to say no to getting loved ones back from the dead. Unfortunately, those who did know who he was and knew Harry, as all of those people were in the same category in most cases, they knew that Harry would be fighting internally about having his parents back by joining their murderer or staying true to himself.

Tracey knew what he would choose, and she knew it would eat him up inside as she read him muttering about Dark Magic.

Looking around, Tracey saw that Dumbledore was looking at the crowd, more looking through them then at them as he thought. When she turned back and saw the line about Harry mentioning the snake was a Horcrux appear, she grabbed Graham’s shoulder so tightly that he glanced at her in shock as her right hand dove into her robes and twisted her wand, muttering a spell so quietly that even she couldn’t hear it.

When they looked at the parchment again, the line was gone, only Tracey understanding what it meant.

“Don’t say a word about it,” she muttered as she moved her head to be between Maya and Graham’s ears. “That was for me and me alone. Never mention the word aloud to anyone but me and Harry.”

Both nodded as Graham went back to reading what Tom Riddle was saying.

Breathing a light sigh of relief, Tracey relaxed the muscles that had tensed during those few moments, leaving only the tension from the thought of Harry being around Voldemort, which was, admittedly, a lot, in her body.

She had no idea how Harry knew the snake was a Horcrux, but he did, and that meant he would try to destroy it as long as killing the snake didn’t mean he would die in the process. Even if he didn’t succeed, they would know where to find the fifth Horcrux, which was a better position than they had been before.

Now all she could do was listen as the Death Eaters arrived and watch Draco as he stiffened, knowing his father would be there. All there was left to do was wait and hope Harry would pull off a miracle by escaping.



"Welc ome, Death Eaters," Voldemort said quietly. "Thirteen years… thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"

He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening. Harry wasn’t sure what to think of it.

"I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench or guilt upon the air."

A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare to step back from him.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact - such prompt appearances! And I ask myself… why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved except Pettigrew, who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm, no one except for Harry.

In his spot tied to the gravestone, Harry was moving his hands around under the ropes that tied him so tightly to it, moving centimeter by centimeter as he made his way to the closest slits in his clothes on each leg. Finally, as Voldemort spoke, he grasped a handle in his left hand just as his right fingers lightly touched another. Internally, he grinned as he felt the handles for the small mark that was in the shape of a basilisk fang he had carved into these two specific goblin-made knives, the only two that had it.

If either of these knives got stuck in the snake circling him, he knew she would die as they both had basilisk venom in them. Sebae had put it in each knife one of the few times he had gone down to visit her without Ginny, knowing that there might be a day he needed the venom in a weapon and not wanting the others to realize that it was possible. Right now, he was glad he had done it as the knives might both save his life and kill a Horcrux.

"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment…

"And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?

"And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort… perhaps they now pay allegiance to another… perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them. Harry ignored them as well as he thought about Voldemort’s words and realized they all pointed to one thing: His Horcruxes. Lord Voldemort didn’t realize four were gone, destroyed, and hopefully he wouldn’t know until it was too late to protect the rest.

"It is a disappointment to me… I confess myself disappointed…"

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.

"Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Voldemort began to laugh as Harry shook his head at the man’s stupidity; Voldemort would do anything but forgive them, especially this man. Voldemort raised his wand.

Crucio!”

The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked; Harry was sure the sound must carry to the houses around. Voldemort raised his wand. The tortured Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, gasping.

"Get up, Avery," Voldemort said softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years… I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?"

He looked down at Pettigrew, who continued to sob.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," Pettigrew moaned, "please. Master… please…"

"Yet you helped return me to my body," said Voldemort coolly, watching Pettigrew sob on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me… and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers…" Harry disagreed, thinking that Pettigrew earned no mercy, but he said nothing as he tried not to glare at the stupid rat that had betrayed his parents and led to their deaths.

Voldemort raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downward and fixed itself upon Pettigrew’s bleeding wrist.

Pettigrew’s sobbing stopped abruptly. His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers, then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder.

"My Lord," he whispered. "Master… it is beautiful… thank you… thank you…"

He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.

"May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail," said Voldemort. Harry smirked ever-so-slightly as he heard that, knowing there was a curse on that hand that would most likely kill Pettigrew if his loyalty wavered.

"No, my Lord… never, my Lord…"

Pettigrew stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears. Voldemort now approached the man on Pettigrew's right.

"Lucius, my slippery friend," he whispered, halting before him. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius… Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay… but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?"

Harry had to hold in a growl as he listened to what Draco’s father had done despite knowing about it at the time. It was tough to hold a blank face, but Harry managed it, his Occlumency only slightly helping right now as everything continued to happen around him.

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," Lucius Malfoy's voice said swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me —" Harry grimaced internally, knowing what his father’s words would be doing to Draco as his friend held up his own mask and listened to Graham’s voice read it aloud.

"And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?" Voldemort said lazily, and Mr. Malfoy stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius… You have disappointed me… I expect more faithful service in the future."

"Of course, my Lord, of course… You are merciful, thank you…"

Voldemort moved on, and stopped, staring at the space - large enough for two people - that separated Malfoy and the next man.

"The Lestranges should stand here," Voldemort said quietly.

"But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me… When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams. The Dementors will join us… they are our natural allies… we will recall the banished giants… I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear…"

He walked on. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others and spoke to them.

"Macnair… destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide…"

"Thank you, Master… thank you," Macnair murmured.

"And here" - Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures - "we have Crabbe… you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

"Yes, Master…"

"We will, Master…"

"The same goes for you, Nott," Voldemort said quietly as he walked past a stooped figure in Mr. Goyle’s shadow.

"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful -"

"That will do," Voldemort said. Harry was frowning internally, realizing that he would have to do something to help Theo’s living situation now that Voldemort was back. In fact, he would have to look into talking to Draco about that as well…

Voldemort had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying it with his blank, red eyes, as though he could see people standing there.

"And here we have six missing Death Eaters… three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return… he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever… he will be killed, of course… and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already reentered my service."

Harry knew one of those was Snape, and another was probably Karkaroff, but the third worried him greatly as he didn’t know who he could be, and if he was already in service… It meant he was the one to put Harry’s name in the Goblet of Fire.

The Death Eaters stirred, and Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight…”

“Tracey, find the Death Eater, please,” Harry muttered under his breath as all eyes began to turn to him. “Get the others to figure it out. Use the Maps to find someone who shouldn’t be there. Remember, some people have the same names as their parents like Riddle does…”

"Yes," Voldemort said, a grin curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle flashed in Harry's direction. "Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honor." Harry knew that, in some way, he was the guest of honor. Voldemort wanted him on his side, and that meant he was a guest until he announced his decision.

“So, Harry, have you made a decision?” Voldemort asked, turning to face the young Slytherin whose hands were moving as his knives had finally escaped their sheathes.

“Become your servant, help you kill Muggles and Muggle-borns, and just make you more powerful?” Harry asked, pretending to be curious as he slowly moved the knives, cutting into the ropes around him. He could tell that Voldemort didn’t like his wording, but that was the whole point.

“I’m so very sorry, Tom Riddle, but I’m going to have to decline,” Harry said, yanking his arms forward to finish the cutting of the ropes around him before he shot forward and to the side, shocking everyone.

Rushing forward, Harry kept his knives in his hands as he tried to get to his wand.

Sliding on the ground, Harry ended up near Cedric’s body as he grabbed his wand and held it up, pointed straight at Voldemort, who was pointing his own wand at Harry through his shock.

Putting one knife away, Harry kept the other in his off hand, standing up slowly as his mind spun. Now all he had to do was figure out how to get out of there.



Theo caught Draco’s eye as they realized the Death Eaters had arrived. Both knew that their fathers would be among the ranks, and their names were most likely going to be dragged into the midst by more than one person, meaning everyone would be looking at them.

They came to a silent agreement to act as if they were hearing nothing even as every word filled their entire being with the truths of their fathers, truths they might not have disliked if it hadn’t been for Harry.

Of course, the words their fathers spoke towards Lord Voldemort disgusted Theo even as the reactions around the audience were a mixture of shock as they realized Tom Riddle was alive, fear of the Dark Lord, amazement that these people they had considered good were really Death Eaters, and some disgust at the kissing up that the Death Eaters were doing. Through all of this, people kept turning to look at the children of the men mentioned by Graham, though Theo recognized the apology in the boy’s voice as he was forced to read the names of his and Draco’s fathers.

When Voldemort spoke of a Death Eater at Hogwarts, everyone was shocked.

Theo turned to Ginny, who had already taken out her red Journal and was searching the Map for a name that didn’t belong around the maze, looking up and down over and over to check faces.

“Theo,” she murmured as he was next to her after taking Tracey’s spot, “look.”

Theo looked down at her Journal and saw where she was pointing. Alastor Moody was in his office, yet in front of them was their professor. The dot that was in the spot of Moody said Bartemius Crouch.

Looking up, Theo thought hard about rumors going around the school in the past month or so, remembering one about Barty Crouch coming to the school and acting odd until Professor Moody took him to his office; no one had seen the man since. Of course, that didn’t really help them as Theo had heard about how law-abiding Crouch was, so this made no sense.

Tracey: Ginny, Theo, Harry said to look for the Death Eater and to remember that some people share names. Don’t know why he said that, but it might be because Purebloods like using the same name over, so a Death Eater might share the name of the father.

Seeing that message, Theo realized what was going on.

“Ginny, Moody in front of us isn’t the actual Crouch, but he’s most likely his son,” Theo whispered urgently to Ginny, passing her back her Journal that she quickly put away.

“What should we do?” she asked, and Theo just grinned slightly as he turned around and gestured to Tracey’s father, who was an Auror.

“Professor Moody is the Death Eater in disguise by Polyjuice Potion,” he whispered in the man’s ear. “The real Moody is inside his office.”

Samuel sat up and nodded once, sharply, before quickly getting up and moving towards Madam Bones, who was watching the Task in a different area of the stadium with the other Ministry employees important enough to be permitted to watch it.

Theo had a slight grin on his face as he watched them talk in quiet, sharp whispers, obviously discussing what to do. It wasn’t their problem anymore.

“Harry has just declined the offer!” Graham called out to the crowd, quieting them as they remembered there was more happening. “What is he — oh Merlin! Harry cut his way out of the ropes with a knife, and it seems he’s just gotten his wand back and has it pointed at the Dark Lord himself!”

Theo grinned darkly as he knew Harry was going to have a tough time getting away if he had to duel Voldemort along with all the Death Eaters, but his friend wasn’t going to give up without a fight if it meant he could survive to fight another day. Harry was willing to retreat, but in the future, Harry would fight to continue living and to get his chance at life .



“Impressive,” Voldemort said softly as he took in Harry’s move closely, the Death Eaters surrounding them with their drawn wands pointed at Harry.

“It seems young Harry here would rather duel me than join me…” Voldemort mused, raising a hand to inform the Death Eaters to stand down as he tilted his head to the side, studying Harry. “Not what I expected from a young Slytherin, but this shall be… interesting.”

“Are you going to fight me yourself or hide behind your servants?” Harry challenged, knowing he had to get Voldemort to fight alone or he’d lose just because he was outnumbered.

“I believe they can watch me defeat the great Harry Potter,” Voldemort whispered softly, and Harry smiled internally as the Death Eaters backed down, recognizing the order intermixed with the statement.

Nagini, attack him from behind,” Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue quietly, and Harry immediately knew that Nagini was the Horcrux.

Don’t!” Harry hissed sharply, surprising most as they hadn’t heard Parseltongue from anyone besides Voldemort before, and it seemed Pettigrew hadn’t known the little detail to tell Voldemort.

You speak it?” Voldemort hissed sharply, and Harry only allowed the right side of his mouth to twitch upwards for a moment before taking advantage of his distraction.

Diffindo,” he whispered softly, watching as the yellow spell raced towards Voldemort and was absorbed by the shield the Dark Lord quickly raised.

“So you wish to play, Potter?” he asked. “Let’s play. Crucio!”

Harry tried to dodge the red spell, but a second, silent one hit him, and Harry was screaming in pain. It was pain beyond anything Harry had ever experienced; his very bones were on fire; his head was surely splitting along his scar; his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end… to black out… to die…

Finally the curse was lifted, and Harry rolled to the side before he could be hit again, rising onto shaky legs as he tried to shake off the aftereffects of the Cruciatus.

Moving even as his body shook, Harry moved behind a tall gravestone, leaning against it to gather himself for a moment before gripping his wand more tightly and moving out, ducking down.

Incendio!” he called, aiming the wand at the grass in front of the Death Eaters behind Voldemort, not at the thing himself. While they were distracted, Harry muttered, “Stupefy, Impedimenta, Stupefy, Protego.”

The Stunners and Impedimenta Curse were reflected by Voldemort’s shield, but they hit the Death Eaters that were trying to put out the fire even as Harry’s shield absorbed the Cutting Curse aimed at his head.

“You know how to duel,” Voldemort commented as he aimed his wand again and called out, “Avada Kedavra!”

Harry jumped to the side, hitting the ground before rolling to dodge the Killing Curse so that he could jump to his feet.

Suddenly, he heard a hiss from behind him, and turning quickly, Harry was faced with Nagini. Knowing he had his back to Voldemort, Harry aimed as carefully as he could with only moments to do anything, and he threw the knife in his hand.

Not even waiting to see if he met his mark, Harry dove to the side just as a green light passed where he had been standing, his hand automatically going for one of the other knives on his person.

Voldemort’s scream said it all as Harry turned with a spell on his lips just as the Dark Lord began to mutter the Killing Curse again.

Stupefy!”

Avada Kedavra!”

Red met green between the two wands, and Harry’s eyes widened slightly as the beam between the wands turned gold and his wand began to shake. He felt his feet lift from the ground. He and Voldemort were both being raised into the air, their wands still connected by that thread of shimmering golden light. They glided away from the tombstone of Voldemort's father and then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves… The Death Eaters were shouting; they were asking Voldemort for instructions; they were closing in, reforming the circle around Harry and Voldemort some of them drawing their wands —

The golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort splintered; though the wands remained connected, a thousand more beams arced high over Harry and Voldemort, crisscrossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now…

"Do nothing!" Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, and Harry saw his red eyes wide with astonishment at what was happening, saw him fighting to break the thread of light still connecting his wand with Harry's; Harry held onto his wand more tightly, with both hands, and the golden thread remained unbroken. "Do nothing unless I command you!" Voldemort shouted to the Death Eaters.

And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air… It was coming from every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Harry and Voldemort. It was a sound Harry recognized, though he had heard it only once before in his life: phoenix song.

It was the sound of hope to Harry… the most beautiful and welcome thing he had ever heard in his life… He felt as though the song were inside him instead of just around him… It was the sound he connected with his friends and family. The sound was telling Harry not to break the connection, but he instinctively knew that already.

No sooner had he thought it, than the thing became much harder to do. His wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever… and now the beam between him and Voldemort changed too… it was as though large beads of light were sliding up and down the thread connecting the wands - Harry felt his wand give a shudder under his hand as the light beads began to slide slowly and steadily his way… The direction of the beam’s movement was now toward him, from Voldemort, and he felt his wand shudder angrily…

As the closest bead of light moved nearer to Harry’s wand tip, the wood beneath his fingers grew so hot he feared it would burst into flame. The closer that bead moved, the harder Harry's wand vibrated; he was sure his wand would not survive contact with it; it felt as though it was about to shatter under his fingers —

He concentrated every last particle of his mind upon forcing the bead back toward Voldemort, his ears full of phoenix song, his eyes furious, fixed… and slowly, very slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly, they began to move the other way… and it was Voldemort's wand that was vibrating extra-hard now… Voldemort who looked astonished, and almost fearful…

Harry was concentrating on the bead and sending it back at Voldemort, but he also knew that, somewhere in the back of his mind, he was thinking of his family, his friends, the other students from all three schools. Deep down, he was fighting for them, and he was fighting for Cedric, to be sure he could stop this from happening longer than it had to.

One of the beads of light was quivering, inches from the tip of Voldemort’s wand. Harry didn't understand what it might achieve… but he now concentrated as he had never done in his life on forcing that bead of light right back into Voldemort s wand… and slowly… very slowly… it moved along the golden thread… it trembled for a moment… and then it connected…

At once, Voldemort’s wand began to emit echoing screams of pain… then — Voldemort's red eyes widened with shock — a dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished… the ghost of the hand he had made Pettigrew… more shouts of pain… and then something much larger began to blossom from Voldemort’s wand tip, a great, grayish something, that looked as though it were made of the solidest, densest smoke… It was a head… now a chest and arms… the torso of Cedric Diggory.

If ever Harry might have released his wand from shock, it would have been then, but instinct kept him clutching his wand tightly, so that the thread of golden light remained unbroken, even though the thick gray ghost of Cedric Diggory (was it a ghost? it looked so solid) emerged in its entirety from the end of Voldemort s wand, as though it were squeezing itself out of a very narrow tunnel… and this shade of Cedric stood up, and looked up and down the golden thread of light, and spoke.

"Hold on, Harry," it said. “More people are coming.” Harry nodded slightly, not expecting Cedric to say anything more, but the thing spoke again in Cedric’s voice. “Harry, what happened here wasn’t your fault. If I had made the suggestion, the same thing would have happened; neither of us knew this was coming. Please, don’t blame yourself.”

There was nothing Harry could say to Cedric, but deep down, his words had calmed Harry slightly, though he knew he would forever be changed by this evening.

Harry looked at Voldemort… his wide red eyes were still shocked… he had no more expected this than Harry had… and, very dimly Harry heard the frightened yells of the Death Eaters, prowling around the edges of the golden dome… More screams of pain from the wand… and then something else emerged from its tip… the dense shadow of a second head, quickly followed by arms and torso… an old man Harry had seen only in a dream was now pushing himself out of the end of the wand just as Cedric had done… and his ghost, or his shadow, or whatever it was, fell next to Cedric's, and surveyed Harry and Voldemort, and the golden web, and the connected wands, with mild surprise, leaning on his walking stick…

"He was a real wizard, then?" the old man said, his eyes on Voldemort. "Killed me, that one did… You fight him, boy…"

But already, yet another head was emerging… and this head, gray as a smoky statue, was a woman's… Harry, both arms shaking now as he fought to keep his wand still, saw her drop to the ground and straighten up like the others, staring…

The shadow of a woman surveyed the battle before her with wide eyes.

"Don't let go, now!" she cried, and her voice echoed like Cedric’s as though from very far away. "Don't let him get you, Harry — don't let go!"

She and the other two shadowy figures began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, while the Death Eaters flitted around the outside of it… and Voldemort's dead victims whispered as they circled the duelers, whispered words of encouragement to Harry, and hissed words Harry couldn't hear to Voldemort. And now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemort’s wand… and Harry knew when he saw it who it would be… he knew, as though he had expected it from the moment when Cedric had appeared from the wand… knew, because the woman appearing was one of the ones he'd thought of more than any other tonight…

A young woman with long hair, the smoky, shadowy form of Lily Potter blossomed from the end of Voldemort's wand, fell to the ground, and straightened. She walked close to Harry, looking down at him, and she spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others, but quietly, so that Voldemort, his face now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear…

"Your father's coming…" she said quietly. “He wants to see you… it will be all right… hold on…"

And he came… first his head, then his body… The smoky shadow of a tall man with untidy hair fell to the ground as the first woman had done, straightened up, and looked at him… and Harry, his arms shaking madly now, looked back into the ghostly face of his father.

"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments… but we will give you time… you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts… do you understand, Harry?" they both whispered into his ears, almost in sync as Harry tried to take in the sight of his parents for the first time that he could remember outside of pictures.

"Yes," Harry gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding beneath his fingers.

"Harry…" the figure of Cedric whispered, "take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents…"

"I will," Harry said, his face screwed up with the effort of holding the wand.

“We’re so proud of you,” his mother said quickly, and Harry felt pride fill him even as he knew they were speaking fast as there was not much time left. “Even as a Slytherin, we’re proud of you, what you’re doing, and what you stand for.”

“Continue what you’re doing and beat this bastard,” his father added, and Harry nodded a bit, his jaw painful from the concentration the connection needed.

"Do it now," his father's voice then whispered, his mother adding it in again quietly, "be ready to run… do it now…"

He didn't think he could have held on for another moment anyway — he pulled his wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke; the cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died — but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear — they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze —

And Harry ran as he had never run in his life, knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as he passed, he zigzagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following him, hearing them hit the headstones — he was dodging curses and graves, pelting toward Cedric's body, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do —

"Stun him!" he heard Voldemort scream.

Ten feet from Cedric, Harry dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it. Gripping his wand more tightly, he dashed out from behind the angel —

"Impedimenta!" he bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at him.

From a muffled yell, he thought he had stopped at least one of them, but there was no time to stop and look; he jumped over the cup and dived as he heard more wand blasts behind him; more jets of light flew over his head as he fell, stretching out his hand to grab Cedric's arm…

"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!" Voldemort shrieked. Harry's hand had closed on Cedric's wrist; one tombstone stood between him and Voldemort, but Cedric was too heavy to carry, and the cup was out of reach —

Voldemort's red eyes flamed in the darkness. Harry saw his mouth curl into a smile, saw him raise his wand. Right by his feet was a dead snake, a knife still in the head, and Harry knew that Horcrux was gone, but Voldemort would never know it had been destroyed because it was a Horcrux.

"Accio!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Triwizard Cup. It flew into the air and soared toward him. Harry caught it by the handle —

He heard Voldemort s scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked — it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and color, and Cedric along with him… They were going back.



Ginny’s mind was mostly on Harry, understandably, as he dueled, but she was also watching as Madam Bones and Samuel got their wands out and began discussing how to take out a man with an eye that allowed him to see out of the back of his head. All she could hope was that they got it done properly.

Suddenly, so unexpectedly that not even Ginny, who had been expecting it, could react, a Stunner hit Moody in the back. Samuel and Madam Bones were out of the stands and down at the man, kicking away the wand and tying him up before grabbing the flask in his pocket, smelling it before making faces.

It seemed she and Theo had been correct; Moody was the imposter.

Grimacing at the thought of having a Death Eater as a teacher for the entire year, Ginny listened to Graham, who had started commenting with a curious sound in his voice.

“Harry used Stupefy and Riddle Avada Kedavra, and now… Their wands are connecting? They’re being lifted off their feet and gold beads are going between their wands on a gold beam of light. It seems it’s a contest of wills that Harry is winning as the bead of light closest to Riddle hits his wand.”

Graham couldn’t get excited anymore, not with how dark the topics were, and it saddened Ginny to hear it, but at least he was learning it secondhand rather than first.

“Oh Merlin…” he said softly. “Cedric has come out of Riddle’s wand, and he’s telling Harry that his death isn’t Harry’s fault; they weren’t expecting this to happen.”

Ginny saw that the Diggorys were in tears, and she knew Harry would be reacting just as badly when he finally was able to think about what had happened. Around the stadium, people were showing their sadness by bowing their heads for Cedric, and Ginny did so as well as Graham went on.

“A man, most likely Muggle, says that he was killed by Riddle, and a woman named Bertha Jorkins is telling Harry not to let go.”

A few gasps from the Ministry workers told Ginny that she was one of them and had probably been missing for a while. It was curious that they hadn’t searched for her until she remembered the summer and her father saying that it was Lugo Bagman in charge of it, which meant it wasn’t done well.

“I… I can’t believe it,” Graham whispered, his voice cracking. “Lily and James Potter… They’ve come out of the wand as well.”

Ginny closed her eyes tightly as she thought about how Harry would take seeing his parents outside of pictures for the first time while fighting for his life against Voldemort. He would both hate and love it…

Behind her, Remus and Sirius had stiffened, obviously not expecting that. It was hard to feel anything but sorrow from the two men who had lost their best friends.

“‘Your father's coming…’ Lily Potter is saying. ‘He wants to see you… it will be all right… hold on…’” Graham quoted, obviously using the exact words. Ginny turned to see tears on the cheeks of the two men behind her, and she put a hand on each of their knees, reminding them that they weren’t alone.

“‘When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments… but we will give you time… you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts… do you understand, Harry?’ they both told him.

“Harry told them yes, and now Cedric is speaking. ‘Harry… take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents…’ Harry told him that he will.

“‘We’re so proud of you’ his mother is saying quietly. ‘Even as a Slytherin, we’re proud of you, what you’re doing, and what you stand for.’

“‘Continue what you’re doing and beat this bastard,’ his father continues. ‘Do it now,’ they both said quietly, ‘be ready to run… do it now…’”

Anyone who knew any of the Potters was now in tears, Ginny among them. It was painful hearing that Harry was finally getting to hear this from his parents, and now the memory would always be overshadowed by the other events surrounding it.

“Harry is running away,” Graham continued, his voice shaking sadly. “He dodges spells and then uses Impedimenta just before Riddle yells that Harry is his. Harry is with Cedric and uses Accio on the Triwizard Cup. He’s coming back.”

Ginny looked back down at the maze at the same moment a light flashed at the entrance.

AN: So… Yeah. As I said up top, a bunch of this came from the actual book. I would have edited it, but between school and other real life activities, it never happened, and my Beta, Arnel, couldn’t find the time to help me with it either. I really am sorry about that, but it’s how I wrote the chapter months ago. Didn’t even cross my mind until around when school started to edit it, so it never got edited like it should have. Still, I tried to add my own twists to the chapter how I could, especially with Harry’s thoughts and views on things occurring.

As for the rest of the chapter: Thoughts? I mean, Nagini is dead, Harry met Voldemort rather than Tom Riddle for the first time he can actually remember, and Barty Crouch Jr. was caught. Pretty productive chapter, if you ask me.

Last chapter, many of you thought that Harry, with all his training, should have either at least fought before being caught by Pettigrew or saved Cedric. My view on it is that, despite all his training, Harry is inexperienced in actual conflicts like this. Besides the Chamber, which wasn’t even a huge deal, when has he been in life-threatening situations? Not first year, not third year, and not even in the Chamber, really. He was worried and shocked and then in pain from his scar, unable to concentrate. In the end, he couldn’t act. However, I’m hoping the duel in this chapter makes up for his lack of fighting last chapter.
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