The Purest Kind of Magic

- forty -

I was dragged through the crowd, farther and farther away from Draco. I could just barely make out Snape and Draco's panicked voices before I was apparated-- or portkeyed-- away.

I coughed as I collapsed onto the floor. I could never get used to this. 

"Master, I don't understand how she'll be important to our mission tonight," I heard a raspy voice say.

"Do you need me to show you the ropes to everything we do? Stop asking useless questions and just do whatever the hell I order you to." It's another voice this time. 

I was frozen in place, I didn't dare to move or even make a sound. It took me a bit to make out my surroundings as it was somehow more dark than earlier. I didn't recognize the place, all I know is I've once again gotten kidnapped, but this time in less trustworthy hands.

I then felt someone coming closer to me from behind. I held my breath, hoping whatever it is to just leave me alone and go away. A cold hand pressed onto my shoulders and I gulped. I couldn't even make a single noise even if I wanted to.

As the cold hand pressed down on my shoulders, I couldn't help but shiver in fear and anticipation. The voice that had spoken earlier, the one that referred to "Master," sent shivers down my spine.

"You're lucky to be in the presence of the Dark Lord," the raspy voice continued. "You should feel honored."

The mention of the Dark Lord sent my mind reeling. Voldemort. I was in the clutches of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I closed my eyes shut as I felt them walking around to stand in front of me. 

After a few moment of silence, I cautiously opened my eyes to face the menacing figure before me. My heart pounded loudly in my chest. 

The man's physical features resembled awfully close to that of a rat. I winced silently at the displeasant piece of shit I have to face. It wasn't hard to realize who I was facing. 

Before me stood none other than Peter Pettigrew, the treacherous former friend of James and Lily Potter, who betrayed them to Voldemort all those years ago. 

His rat-like appearance was chilling, and it brought back memories of the stories I had heard about his actions during the first rise of Voldemort.

Pettigrew sneered at me, his eyes filled with malice. "You're not what I expected, but the Dark Lord sees something in you, so you might be worth something after all."

I glared at him angrily since it was the only thing I could do as of now. I swallowed before speaking, "What does he even fucking want."

Pettigrew's sneer deepened at my defiance, clearly amused by my anger. "The Dark Lord has his reasons," he replied cryptically. "You might have some hidden talents or knowledge that could prove useful to him. Or perhaps he merely enjoys toying with his enemies."

I gritted my teeth, refusing to show any weakness in front of him. "I won't serve him," I declared firmly. "I won't be a part of any of this."

Pettigrew's eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer. "You have no choice in the matter," he hissed. "Resist, and you'll suffer far worse than you can imagine."

Despite my fear, I held my ground, determined not to cower in front of Pettigrew. "I'd rather suffer," I retorted, my voice steady. "I won't let myself be used by Voldemort."

Pettigrew's malicious grin faded slightly, replaced by a look of annoyance. He seemed surprised by my resolve, but his sneer returned soon enough. "We'll see how long that defiance lasts," he said coldly. "The Dark Lord has ways of breaking even the strongest wills."

"Shut up, you're talking too much." I didn't even need to guess that it was Voldemort's voice, "Just fucking knock her out and throw her to the side somewhere, she's not important as of now."

I turned to the direction of his voice and began shouting, "Uh- You son of--" 

Before I could finish, I blacked out.

--

"It is ready, Master."

I was barely concious and my eyes tried to make out the figures that stood quite close to me. My eyes shot wide when I saw Harry. Why is he here? Shouldn't he be running around in a maze right now?

"Now..." I heard Voldemort's voice say. 

Pettigrew pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing whatwas inside them, and Harry let out a yell that was strangled in thewad of material blocking his mouth.

My vision finally cleared and I saw what Pettigrew was holding. A human rat. My apolgies, I mean a very deformed Voldemort. The thing was hairless and scaly-looking. If I came across something like that on the street I would've thought it was a hairless rat and killed it.

It--- I mean Voldemort--- raised his toothpick looking arms and put it around Pettigrew's neck, and Pettigrew lifted him. I watched in disgust as Voldemort was lowered into the cauldron with a hiss.

Pettigrew raised his wand with his eyes closed and started speaking.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked and the dust rose into the air and fell softly into the cauldron. I could see the water changing colors. 

Pettigrew pulled out a long, thin, shining silver dagger from the inside of his cloak and started sobbing.

"Flesh -- of the servant -- w-willingly given -- you will -- revive -- your master."

He stretched his right hand out in front of him and gripped the dagger very tightly with his left hand and swung it upward. I closed my eyes tightly before I could see anything.

Pettigrew's scream pierced the night, and my ears too. I tried to raise my hand to cover my ears, but just realized that my hands were tied together behind me. 

"B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will... resurrect your foe."

My eyes shot open upon hearing that. Pettigrew was right in front of Harry. The dagger stabbed through Harry's right arm and blood came running down the sleeve of his torn robes.

Pettigrew fumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut to collect his blood. He staggered back to the cauldron with Harry's blood and poured it in. 

Pettigrew dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and laid on the ground as he held onto the bleeding stump of his arm.

The cauldron was simmering, diamond sparks flew out in all directions. It was so bright that I thought I would've gone blind if I kept looking.

Suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished and a surge of white stream billowed thickly from the cauldron in front of Harry. 

I felt shivers going down my spine as I saw a dark outline of a man, tall and thin, rising slowly from the cauldron. Voldemort.

"Robe me."