Harry groaned as he crashed to the ground unexpectedly as the Portkey’s journey ended. The Triwizard Cup flew off to the side as it was released.

“Where are we?” Cedric asked after a few moments.

Harry pushed himself up to stand, ignoring the slight pain in his left ankle, and looked around through the dark. It was darker here than it had been even in the maze. It wasn’t hard to realize they were in a graveyard.

“Is this still part of the game?” Cedric said, slowly walking and looking around.

Harry felt his stomach drop as he noticed the large black cauldron in the middle of the small clearing in the graveyard. He had seen this set-up before. He quickly turned around to find the final landmark. He hoped he wouldn’t find it, but there it was. The large headstone with the massive stone grim reaper next to it, hooded skeletal face and large scythe.

“We have to get out of here,” Harry said, but too quiet for Cedric to hear. He instantly started to run to Cedric who was examining the inscriptions on the headstone. “Cedric!” he said, but stopped when he saw the grave’s names. 

Riddle.

“We have to get out of here now,” Harry repeated, feeling panicked.

“Why? Is this not another part of the maze?” Cedric said, confused.

“No, it’s not,” Harry said. “We have to leave.”

I have to get home.

Duck, Ron said and Harry instantly threw himself to the ground. There was no time to warn Cedric and he was hit with the familiar green light.

“Cedric!” Harry yelled as he watched Cedric’s body fall and he was faced with the older boy’s lifeless eyes. Tears wanted to well up in his own eyes, but he didn’t let them. He had to be ready for whatever was coming.

“Harry Potter,” a familiar voice said and his head spun to find the source.

His scar was burning with pain, making it hard to focus. He looked through the dark, and his face and body tensed as Peter Pettigrew came into view. Hatred filled him as he grasped his wand tightly. Pettigrew was holding a white, bone-like wand in one hand and a bundle of dark material in the other. He wasn’t able to do anything as Pettigrew waved the wand, and he went flying into the grim reaper statue where the scythe moved and held him there. He struggled desperately, but it was no use. He glanced down at his dropped wand, wishing he was older and knew wandless magic.

He turned his attention to Pettigrew. The little man had approached the cauldron and set a fire underneath. He put his bundle on the ground near the cauldron, muttering and nodding as though the bundle was giving him instructions. He watched as Pettigrew came near him, making him tense. Pettigrew seemed to ignore him, though, and instead levitated a bone from the base of the Riddle grave. Had Pettigrew dug up a body? Why would he need the bones of a long-dead Riddle?

“Bone of the father, unknowingly given,” Pettigrew muttered.

The bone was brought over to the now-boiling cauldron and was dropped into the liquid inside. The bubbling increased and the colour began to darken.

Pettigrew pulled out a large dagger then and held it to his left wrist. “Flesh of the servant, willingly given.” Harry cringed and closed his eyes as Pettigrew sawed through his arm. The man screamed as he did so, and Harry only let himself look again once he heard the clear sounds of something dropping into the cauldron. Pettigrew had paled, was gasping, and was holding his now bloody stump close to his body.

“Now, for the last part,” Pettigrew ground out through his pain, turning to Harry at last. He shuffled over to the restrained student and Harry tried struggling again.

“Get away from me,” Harry spat.

Pettigrew raised the dagger again and pressed it to Harry’s right forearm. Harry cried out as the skin was broken, leaving a long and deep gash all along his arm. Pettigrew returned to the cauldron and shook drops of Harry’s blood into the concoction. “Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken.”

The bubbling increased, it emitted a thick smoke, and it changed to a deep black colour tinted with deep purple and green. Pettigrew picked up the bundle and held it over the cauldron.

“Now!” a voice hissed and Harry’s scar seared again. “Do it now!”

And Pettigrew dropped an alien-looking figure into the boiling potion.

Voldemort, Harry realized with a jolt of terror. What was all of this. What were they doing? Surely the thing that was what was left of Voldemort would drown. Or be boiled alive. Those had to be the only outcomes. He couldn’t accept anything else happening. This couldn’t go the way a part of him thought it would.

The cauldron boiled viciously, the potion almost boiling over the sides. It steamed more and more. The liquid appeared to thicken.

It’ll drown, Harry pleaded. It has to drown.

Harry couldn’t stop the fear rise inside him as he watched a large viscous blob rise out of the cauldron and through the mist. It shifted and morphed in the air, expanding and lengthening and forming. It quickly lost the glutinous exterior and grew into a body: a skeletal body, but a body nonetheless. Fingers and toes lengthened, a long, hairless head was shaped, and the form became wrapped in black robes. The pain in his scar steadily increased as the resurrected Voldemort came into being. It was becoming nearly unbearable.

After a few more endless moments, the process was complete.

Voldemort was back.

“Something’s wrong,” Severus said quietly. “This should’ve finished by now.”

“We don’t know that,” Lucius said, ignoring his own overwhelming worry. Both the Delacour girl and Viktor Krum had been removed from the maze, each in terrible states. Harry and Diggory were still in there. “He’s alright. He knows…he’s resourceful.”

Severus glanced at his friend when the blonde paused. Harry didn’t know what he was doing, not like the others. He was a child in an adult’s game.

“He’ll be okay,” Lucius whispered just before both he and Severus were blinded by pain.

Their arms seared as though being held over white hot flames. They gasped loudly, wishing they could scream in their agony. They both tore back the sleeves on their forearms, revealing their horrid tattoos. Their eyes flew to each other, fearful. The once faded snake and skull had returned in all its glory, solid black and wriggling on their skin as the summons continued. It could only mean one thing…

Voldemort was back.

“Harry,” Lucius whispered and Severus’ heart restricted.

“You have to go,” Severus said tightly. He had hoped this day would never come, that they would never have to go back. “You have to answer.”

“What about you?”

“I will go later,” Severus said. “I will tell him I couldn’t leave because of Dumbledore.”

“You will still be punished.”

“But not as bad as you will be if you don’t go.”

“Go, Lucius,” Alexei said. “I will take care of Severus and be prepared for your return.”

Lucius groaned in pain and knowing Severus was right. He would be tortured endlessly if he didn’t answer the summons, maybe even killed.

“Lucius,” Severus said, getting his friend’s attention again, “find my son.”

Reading the fear and pain in the dark eyes, and the worry in Alexei’s, Lucius nodded and rushed from the stands. He ran across the grounds until he was through the gates and in Hogsmeade. Taking a deep breath, he pressed his hand to the tattoo, allowing it to pull him to wherever Voldemort had returned. As he travelled, he felt the familiar, hated Death Eaters robes and mask materialize on his body. He let his eyes close, feeling the coarse material he had hoped he would never wear again.

His feet touched the ground and he opened his eyes, looking out from behind his mask. He felt others appearing around him, but focused on taking in the environment first. He instantly saw the gravestone. A graveyard. The graveyard, the graveyard Harry had been seeing in his dreams all year. Beyond the developing circle of Death Eaters was a cauldron and beyond that, a body. His stomach clenched as he found the vacant, dead eyes of Hufflepuff’s Champion, Cedric Diggory. He knew the boy’s father.

He dragged his gaze away from the boy and finally spotted Harry. He couldn’t believe the child wasn’t the first thing he spotted. Every inch of him was screaming at him to run to the child—his child—and free him from where he was pinned to the reaper statue. It took all his effort to remain where he was. He quickly catalogued what he could about Harry’s condition. His right forearm had been badly cut and was bleeding freely. He had other smaller injuries, but Lucius knew them to be from the maze. So, what was causing the boy so much pain that was clear on his face?

Just as the question appeared in his head, He swept by Harry. The pain the boy felt obviously increased. He stopped in the centre of his followers’ circle. Lucius tensed his body and clenched his jaw, finally looking at the newly resurrected Lord Voldemort. He grimaced internally. Voldemort hardly looked human with his slit eyes, slit nostrils, thin mouth, bald and scaly-like skull, and long spindly fingers and toes.

A shudder ran up his spine as the madman began to speak, his voice closely resembling a snake’s hiss.

“My friends,” Voldemort said, spinning to look at the dozen or so Death Eaters that had appeared.

Lucius swallowed thickly. How he had wished—hoped—he would never find himself in such circumstances again. He had foolishly prayed Voldemort was gone forever.

“How long we have waited for this,” Voldemort said. “How long I have waited. Thirteen long, lost years.”

Lucius stiffened again, watching Voldemort’s face change. Something was coming.

“Thirteen years and not one of you tried to find me!”

Lucius had to stop himself from jumping at the shout and as Voldemort began to sweep around the circle. He tore away the masks, making them dissolve and obviously inflicting some kind of pain as each Death Eater fell to their knees with shouts. He looked out at Voldemort from behind his mask, steeling himself. His mask was removed and it took all his strength to remain standing through the ‘mild’ Cruciatus Curse tearing through his skull. He managed to do nothing more than gasp before meeting the slit, red eyes.

“Not even you tried, Lucius, my most loyal,” Voldemort hissed.

“I have come to be constantly watched, my Lord,” Lucius said. “I could never come to your aid without drawing suspicious attention to myself and you whereabouts.”

“Very well,” Voldemort said before flicking his wand.

Lucius cried out as the curse tore through his body. It had been so long since he last felt a full Cruciatus. He wasn’t holding up as well anymore. When the curse ended, he was on his knees, breathing heavily.

“It is of no matter anymore,” Voldemort said, walking away from the Death Eaters. “Tonight, is special. Tonight, it begins. Tonight, we take our world.”

He walked past the cauldron and over to the Diggory boy’s body. He stopped and looked down. Lucius got back to his feet, watching the scene. He could see Harry struggling on the statue.

“Pity,” Voldemort muttered, without meaning or feeling.

“Leave him alone!” Harry yelled and Lucius groaned.

Voldemort turned to Harry with a disturbingly gleeful expression on his snakelike face. “Ah, Harry. I was so distracted I completely forgot you were here. Our guest of honour!”

Some of the Death Eaters laughed and jeered. Harry glared down at Voldemort, ignoring the pain in his scar. Voldemort stepped closer, making them only inches apart.

“How…freeing,” Voldemort said quietly. “Free of Dumbledore and Lily Potter’s sacrifice, our shared blood…all barriers removed.”

Lucius shifted, listening closely. What was Voldemort getting at?

“I can touch you now with no consequences,” Voldemort said and instantly pressed a couple of long fingers to Harry’s forehead.

Harry screamed at the agony that ripped through his head. The pain was white-hot and blurred his vision. Tears rose in his eyes as it continued. It was difficult through his own screams, but he managed to recognize that someone else had started to scream with him. His pain ceased as Voldemort finally removed his hand. As he was able to focus, he realized it was Voldemort that had also been screaming.

“What is this?” Voldemort snarled. “What protection do you have? A charm, a potion…how have you recreated your Mudblood mother’s protection?”

Harry frowned to himself through his glare. What was Voldemort talking about? Recreation of his mother’s protection? While he was contemplating, the scythe holding him up disappeared and he fell to the ground.

“This is where it ends,” Voldemort said, moving away closer to the Death Eaters. “Harry Potter will cease to exist. You will fade into myth. This world will only know how Lord Voldemort won and brought this world into a new age.”

On his knees, Harry glared hatefully at his newly resurrected enemy, particularly when his wand was thrown at him.

“Pick it up and get to your feet,” Voldemort said, flourishing his own wand and taking an offensive stance.

Harry kept his hard stare on Voldemort as he slowly reached for his wand. He was fighting hard to ignore Lucius. He so badly wanted to meet the man’s eyes to try and communicate something…anything. He wanted to tell Lucius that he was alright, but also how terrified he was. He wanted to admit there was a part of him that believed he was not leaving the graveyard alive. A part of him believed he was never going to see Severus or Alexei again.

“Get up, Potter!” Voldemort yelled.

Harry gripped his wand tightly and slowly got to his feet. He hid his wince as he put weight on his injured ankle. He never let his eyes leave Voldemort even as he felt and saw in his periphery that the Death Eaters were moving to form a semi-circle behind Voldemort.

“Come on, Potter,” Voldemort taunted. “Show us the power of the Boy Who Lived.”

Harry glowered and jumped to the side to avoid the Killing Curse that Voldemort flung at him. Most of his weight fell on his injured ankle and he unintentionally fell to the ground from the pain.

“Fight back!” Voldemort shouted angrily. “I will take this world through a fair fight. I will see the life leave you!”

Then the worst pain Harry had ever felt coursed through his body. He could feel his body writing with the agony. White-hot daggers were slicing through him. He couldn’t possibly survive this. This pain was inhuman and beyond comprehension. After what seemed like endless ages, it stopped. His body fell still, only slight remnants shaking him every few seconds. He was out of breath and some tears had stained his cheeks.

“Now, get up and fight,” Voldemort hissed.

Harry knew he couldn’t handle more of that pain, so he forced himself to move and staggered to his feet.

He couldn’t believe how much hatred he felt towards the barely-human man in front of him. He also couldn’t believe how scared he was. He had absolutely no way to fight Voldemort; he was too powerful, even minutes after resurrection. He had no chance against Voldemort.

“Avada Kedavra!”

Harry just reacted. “Expelliarmus!”

Harry waited for the green light to bypass his own red, but it never happened. Instead, their spells hit head-on. He frowned as he felt strange power begin to emit from where their spells had connected. A bright white light exploded from the connection and rose into the air above them where it exploded again, forming a large transparent barrier around the two of them.

What was happening?

Through the light, Harry could see Voldemort’s confusion as well. So, even Voldemort had no idea what was happening. He looked past Voldemort then the best he could, trying to spot Lucius. He didn’t know if Lucius could see him, but Harry hoped he could. He wanted Lucius to know he knew the man was there and that he was still okay despite what was happening.

He looked back at their wand connection, where multiple bright orbs burst from the spells. They all floated around before each finding a spot around the two of them, each forming into misty, white-blue, translucent people.

Harry stared in absolute shock as he was suddenly faced with Cedric and his own parents.

How was this possible?

“Harry, you need to bring me back,” Cedric said. “My body. Bring it home to my father.”

Harry glanced over at Cedric’s body and then nodded, promising.

“Harry, my brave son,” Lily Potter said with a small smile.

“You have done so well,” James said.

Harry felt his eyes water, emotion filling him.

“We can help you, but only for a moment,” James said.

“As soon as you let go, you have to get to the Portkey,” Lily said.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“When we say, you have to break the connection,” James said.

“We have to do this now,” Lily said and James nodded.

“Are you ready?” James asked.

“Snape, Lucius…do you—” Harry tried to say.

Both James and Lily gave gentle smiles.

“Those three have given you the most wonderful family,” Lily said.

“I can’t imagine anyone better for you,” James said.

Harry gave a broken smile and a few tears fell.

“Ready?” James asked and Harry nodded.

“When we say,” Lily said and they each put their hands on Harry who felt a surge of magic flow through him.

He focused it on his spell, making it stronger and pushing the connection closer to Voldemort. He soon felt a jolt and knew the connection had hit Voldemort’s wand.

“Now!” James and Lily yelled.

Harry forced the spell to break. The ghostly apparitions rushed at Voldemort, temporarily blinding him. Harry dashed to Cedric’ body and grabbed the arm. Quickly glanced over to where he knew Lucius was. He hoped Lucius saw his look as he summoned the Triwizard Cup and instantly disappeared, the Portkey pulling him and Cedric back to Hogwarts.