Dark

Chapter 35

Harry
“My Lord…” Wormtail choked, “my Lord…you promised…you did promise…”
How had this happened? How had any of this happened? It was all too fast, all so sudden, from the moment that my and Cedric’s hands grasped the Triwizard Cup. How had they turned it into a portkey? Where was Eleanor? Why did Cedric have to die?
I struggled against the bindings holding me to the tombstone. I tried to break free of them, but it was no use. I sat by, hopeless, as Wormtail trembled and Voldemort looked down upon him in disgust.
“Hold out your arm,” Voldemort said lazily.
“Oh Master…thank you, Master…” Wormtail gasped as he extended the bleeding stump that was left at the end of his arm.
“The other arm, Wormtail.”
“Master, please…please…”
Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail’s left arm, forcing the sleeve up to reveal what looked like a vivid red tattoo – a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. It was the same image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup the previous summer. It was the Dark Mark.
“It is back, he said softly, “they will all have noticed it…and now, we shall see…now we shall know…” Voldemort hissed.
He pressed his long white finger to the brand on Wormtail’s arm.
In an instant my head began to sear with pain, feeling as though it could burst at any moment. I screamed out, but it made no difference. It didn’t lessen the pain, it did bring attention to anyone who could help me. Wormtail howled as well and when Voldemort removed his finger, I could see that the mark had turned jet black.
Voldemort straightened up with a look of cruel satisfaction on his face as he stared around the graveyard.
“How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it? He whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed now upon the stars. “And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?”
Soon his snakelike face turned toward me, a cruel smiling twisting his features.
“You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father,” he hissed softly. “A Muggle and a fool…very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child…and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death…”
Voldemort laughed as he paced up and down, with his snake circling lazily in the grass.
“You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was…He didn’t like magic, my father…
“He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage…but I vowed to find him…I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name…Tom Riddle…
“Listen to me, reliving family history…” he said quietly, “why, I am growing quite sentimental…But look, Harry! My true family returns…”
The air around us was suddenly fill with loud pops and swishing cloaks. Wizards were apparating all around us, each of them hooded and masked. The moved forward, forming a circle around the scene before them, drawn to Voldemort like moths to a flame.
“Welcome, Death Eaters,” said Voldemort 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? I Smell guilt, the stench of it is upon the air.”
It was as though a shiver had visibly run around the circle of Death Eaters. They stood in their places, silent, watching, listening.
“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 for Wormtail, who was still sobbing on the ground nearby, clutching at his arm.
“And I answer myself,” Voldemort continued, “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...
“It is a disappointment to me…I confess myself disappointed…”
“Master!” one of the Death Eaters shrieked as he fell to his knees before Voldemort, pleading. “Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!”
Voldemort laughed as he raised his wand, not a second of hesitation spent.
“Crucio!”
The Death Eater on the ground began to writhe and scream. I just hoped that someone would hear, that eventually someone would come to help. Someone, anyone…
Voldemort raised his wand and the curse was lifted. 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 to Wormtail, considering him for a moment.
“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,” Wormtail moaned, “please, Master…please…”
“Yet you helped return to me to my body,” Voldemort spoke, his voice cold. “Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me…and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers…”
Voldemort raised his wand again, and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver streamed from the wand and wound its way around Wormtail’s stump, morphing into a solid silver hand.
Wormtail’s sobbing stopped abruptly. He raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his wrist.
“My Lord,” he whispered. “Master…it is beautiful…thank you…thank you…”
“May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail,” Voldemort hissed.
He turned from Wormtail and examined the Death Eaters standing before him. He considered each and every one of them, taking in their numbers.
“Luscius, my slippery friend,” Voldemort whispered. “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 towards finding and aiding your master?”
“My Lord, I was constantly on the alert,” came Lucius Malfoy’s voice swiftly from beneath the hood of a nearby Death Eater. “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 –“
“And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?” Voldemort asked, 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 turned away and began to walk among the rest of the Death Eaters, his snake trailing along in his wake.
“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.”
The Death Eaters stirred, another wave of anxiousness seeming to spread through the scene.
“He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight. Though it appears that he didn’t fulfill all of my requests. Someone is missing…someone I very much wanted to meet.”
Voldemort approached me slowly, staring me down.
“Your sister should be here with you, Harry. But it’s no matter. My most faithful will attend to her before anyone knows what’s happened.”
“You leave her alone!” I yelled, struggling even harder against the ropes that were beginning to cut into my skin. “Don’t you touch her!”
Eleanor has nothing to do with this, she doesn’t deserve this. I can’t let them hurt her, but there’s nothing I could do. I didn’t even know where I was, or where she could be.
“Don’t worry, Harry. She’ll soon be dead…she may even be gone already.”
Voldemort slowly moved closer, raising his wand at me. There was a flash of red in his eyes and as soon as the word left his mouth, the pain began.
“Crucio!”
It was pain beyond anything I had ever felt. It was as though my bones were on fire, as though my head was being split open along my scar. I just wanted it to end, I wanted to black out…to die…
Then it was gone. I was left out of breath, my throat soar from screaming, sweat dripping from my brow.
“Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand.”
I scrambled to my feet uneasily as Wormtail untied the ropes that had been supporting me against the tombstone. I could have tried to run for it, I could have tried to dodge their blows but my leg was throbbing still and I wasn’t sure that I would make it. Wormtail thrust my wand into my hand and backed up, joining the ring of Death Eaters surrounding me and Voldemort.
“You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?” Voldemort asked softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness. “We bow to each other, Harry. Come, the niceties must be observed…Dumbledore would like you to show manners…Bow to death, Harry…”
The Death Eaters were laughing, as Voldemort smiled on. I didn’t bow, I wouldn’t give in to his demands. I wasn’t going to let him play his games, I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.
“I said, bow,” Voldemort hissed, raising his wand.
I felt my spine curve, as though an invisible hand were bending me forward, and the Death Eaters laughed even harder than ever.
“Very good,” Voldemort said. “And now you face me, like a man…straight-backed and proud, the way your father died…
“And now – we duel.”
I didn’t even have a chance to defend myself before I was hit with the Cruciatus curse again. I felt as though white-hot knives were piercing every inch of my skin, setting me to flames. But then it was lifted again and I scrambled to my feet, determined to fight back, set on not laying down to die willingly.
Soon there were curses flying, Voldemort’s and my own, and I was able to duck behind another headstone before being hit by one.
“We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry,” Voldemort said, drawing nearer to me. “You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry…come out and play, then…it will be quick…it might even be painless…I would not know…I have never died…”
Breathing hard, I collected every ounce of courage I could muster and I withdrew from behind the headstone, my wand raised toward Voldemort. I shouted “Expelliarmus!” as Voldemort cried, “Avada Kedavra!”
A jet of green light issued from Voldemort’s wand just a jet of red light blasted from my own. They met in midair between us and before I knew what was happening, the wand in my hand was vibrating. The spells had connected, forming a golden light at the center of the battling streams of sparks. As I looked on it seemed that Voldemort’s wand was shaking as well, struggling just as mine was to hold whatever connection our spells had formed.
Suddenly the golden light splintered, sending threads of the same light crisscrossing all around us, forming a dome-shaped web that encased just me and Voldemort.
“Do nothing!” Voldemort shrieked to his Death Eaters. “Do nothing unless I command you! He is mine!”
Neither Voldemort nor I backed down, both of us struggling to maintain the connection between our wands. I had to find way out though, I had to find a way back, they had to know that he was back. Everyone needed to know.
As I fought against the vibrations of my wand, a sight I had never seen before began to unfold before me. Voldemort’s wand was practically screaming with unearthly sounds, and as I looked on I saw the form of Cedric Diggory withdraw itself from the wand. Whatever this version of Cedric was, it stood up and began to walk around inside of the dome that separated me and Voldemort from his followers. Then as he reached me, he spoke.
“Hold on, Harry,” he said.
His voice was distant, and echoing. I continued to struggle, holding the connection as well as I could. Then another person emerged from the wand. This time it was an old man who stood up, clutching a cane in one hand and staring up at Voldemort.
“He was a real wizard, then?” The man said. “Killed me, that one did…You fight him, boy…”
Then the shadow of Bertha Jorkins, the Ministry witch who had gone missing a year ago, appeared.
“Don’t let go, now!” She cried. “Don’t let him get you, Harry – don’t let go!”
Nothing could have prepared me for what came next though. The familiar image of my mother that I had studied in an old scrapbook for nights on end, had appeared from Voldemort’s wand.
“Your father’s coming…” she said quietly. “Hold on for your father…It will be all right…Hold on…”
And then he appeared alongside her, his hair as untidy as mine.
“When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments…but we will give you time…you must get the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts…do you understand, Harry?”
“Yes,” I gasped, fighting harder than ever to keep a hold of my wand as it began to slip from my grasp.
“Harry…” Cedric whispered, “take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents…”
“I will,” I said.
“Take care of her, Harry. Take care of her for us…Eleanor…” my mother whispered.
“Do it now,” my fathered called, “be ready to run…do it now…”
“NOW!” I yelled into the night. As I pulled away, breaking the connection between my own wand and Voldemort’s, the ghostly figures around me rushed forward. This was my only chance, I had to run.
I ran faster than I could have ever imagined, bowling straight through two stunned Death Eaters as they watched on. I jumped over a headstone and came crashing to the ground beside Cedric’s body. I raised my wand and called out, “Accio!”
As the handle of the Triwizard Cup flew into my outstretched hand, I gripped tightly onto Cedric, determined to not leave him behind. And then the pulling sensation, the feeling of losing all the air in my lungs, pressed me once again into nothingness.

Draco
A loud crack rang through the air, disrupting the excited sounds of the crowd. It only last a moment though before the cheering began yet again. Someone had appeared out of the maze, someone had won.
And yet, something was wrong.
A scream echoed through the pitch and the cheering came to another abrupt end. The whispers followed, spreading from the front of the stands toward the back. Frantic voices eventually reached us, and the words they uttered forced my breath to catch in my throat.
“It’s Potter and Diggory…They’re back, but Cedric’s dead…”
“He’s saying he’s back, he’s saying Voldemort’s back…”
“How could this have happened?”
“It can’t be real, can it?”
I stood, trying to catch sight of what was happening below the stands. As a number of people moved around below us, Potter came into view, desperately clutching at Diggory. The whispers seemed to be true…Diggory wasn’t moving, wasn’t breathing…
“Where’s Eleanor?” I asked.
“Isn’t she down there?” Astoria asked from next to me, clutching sharply at my arm as she stood atop of the bench, trying to see what was happening.
“She isn’t there…why isn’t she down there?” I asked again.
And then next wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd. Nearly everyone was asking where Eleanor Potter was. She hadn’t returned with Potter and Diggory, but no sparks had been sent up for help since Krum had been retrieved from the maze. Was she still in there?
I couldn’t help but look on, wondering what could have happened, and where things had gone so wrong. Diggory was dead, Eleanor was missing, and as I looked down at the scene before me again, I saw Potter being pulled away from the crowd by Moody. He was bleeding, and his eyes were wide as he tried to break free of Moody’s grasp, trying desperately to reach out again toward Diggory. It wasn’t Potter’s fate that bothered me though, it was only Eleanor’s.
“Look…” Zabini said from beside me, pulling my attention back toward the hedges.
Dumbledore was speaking hurriedly to that half-breed Hagrid. Then the giant ran off into the hedges, bowling them down with ease. In a matter of seconds he couldn’t be seen anymore.
“What is he doing?” Astoria asked, her voice cracking.
“I don’t know.” I said. “Could she still be in there?”
It felt like hours had passed before we could see movement in the maze again. It was as if a collective breath had been held among the crowd as we sat in a sort of limbo of unanswered questions. Then the hedges moved apart and a new wave of cries rang out as the great oaf reappeared, cradling Eleanor in his arms.
She looked tiny compared to him, as if he was carrying a small child. Hagrid laid her down before Dumbledore and as her head tilted back against the ground, the true horror of the night hit me. She was covered in blood, and a wide gash had been opened in her neck.
My first thought was that she was dead, that she couldn’t possibly be alive after something like that. I felt my knees nearly give way as I looked on, a sick feeling overcoming me completely as I fought back the bile that rose in my throat.
How could this have happened?
Then I saw it. She had seemed so still at first, but I noticed as Dumbledore directed his wand at her, whispering incantations, that she was shaking. Practically convulsing in a way, as her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her eyes were closed, but she was moving. She wasn’t gone yet.
My feet moved before I had registered the conscious thought of wanting to do so. I was pushing my way through the crowd around me, trying to fight my way down the stands, desperate to find out what was going on. But before I could get further than another two rows down, a hand clamped tightly around my upper arm, pulling me to a stop.
“Draco, there’s nothing we can do right now. You know they won’t let us near her.” Zabini said, redirecting me. We were still moving quickly through the crowd, but we weren’t headed toward Eleanor, we were headed toward the entrance of the pitch.
I wanted to fight back, I wanted to know what was happening, what would happen next. But I couldn’t. I had never felt so driven to do something, and yet so weak that I couldn’t accomplish it. Endless questions streamed through my mind as I allowed Blaise to pull me up the grounds toward the castle. It wasn’t until we crossed the threshold into the Entrance Hall that I noticed Zabini had a firm grip on Greengrass as well.
This couldn’t be happening. She was almost finished with the tournament, she was nearly there…