Marked

That Godforsaken Graveyard

TOM RIDDLE

'Shit,' Harry thought to himself. 'Of course I'm here because of Voldemort. What in my life isn't because of him?' Harry struggled against the binds Wormtail was using to tie him to the grave, earning him a slap from Wormtail and a foul-tasting rag stuffed into his mouth.

Cedric watched as Harry was being tied to the grave in horror. 'This can't be good' He thought while struggling against his restraints.

And indeed it wasn't good. They both watched in trepidation as the largest cauldron they had ever seen was dragged into view by Wormtail. As he started a fire underneath it, the once calm liquid inside of it became alight with sparks and bubbles. In any other setting, they may have found it beautiful.

Wormtail picked up the bundle, revealing an ugly, slimy, monstrous thing in the shape of a human child. Harry could have puked at the sight and the pain exploding from his scar, but the fabric in his mouth prevented it. Wormtail dropped the hideous form of what Harry had a hunch was Voldemort into the overlarge cauldron. Wormtail pointed his wand at the ground beneath Harry's feet. Harry watched as the ground erupted below him and a trickle of fine dust rose out of the ground, into the cauldron.

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

The liquid inside the cauldron turned a toxic looking blue, sending a fresh wave of sparks into the night sky.

As Cedric stood there, bound, he seemed to try to compose himself and tried to move. Unfortunately, he stumbled and fell onto the damp earth. Cursing, he managed to manoeuvre himself so he could see the cauldron again. Just in time to hear Wormtail (almost literally) cry,

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

Cedric didn't hear the splash of Wormtails hand falling into the cauldron, as at that moment he spotted a large snake slithered over to him, hissing.

Panicking, he tried moving to the best of his abilities away from the large serpent. While scooting away, his back bumped into the forgotten Triwizard Cup. Cedric felt the telltale pull on his navel as he was portkeyed away, still bound by the ropes.

Now Harry was alone. With no Portkey to take him home.

Wormtail paid no mind to the now missing boy. He had a job to finish. Harry, on the other hand, felt hope rise within him. 'He can get help.. oh please don't be too late... please.. ' He was brought out of his internal pleading by Wormtails pained breaths on his face.

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

Harry's bright green eyes widened as he realized what this meant. He struggled against his bindings and spat enough curses through the rag in his mouth to make Molly Weasley faint (not that she wouldn't have already fainted at seeing her not-son-but-might-as-well-be-son in a situation like this. That or she would've AK'd everyone involved) but Wormtail brought up the dagger and cut through Harry's robes and into Harry's left arm.

As the blood started dripping down Harry's arm, his vision started to blur, his eyes filling with unshed tears from his sheer terror. 'Your a Gryffindor, Harry, ' he told himself, 'You've survived years with the Dursleys, faced off against a troll and Quirrelmort in the first year, Aragog and a FUCKING Basilisk in the second year, Dementors in third, and this whole goddamn tournament this year! You didn't cry then, Harry! You can't start now! You can't let him see weakness!'

Nevertheless, he could feel tears starting to pour down his face. Hot tears welling up in his emerald eyes, falling down his face, over his cheek. Maybe it was because, unlike in those previous situations, he felt so helpless. Without his wand or the cup to take him back, he could only hope Cedric relayed the message so Dumbledore could trace the Portkey back to this graveyard. He could only hope it wasn't too late when he arrived. That Dumbledore wouldn't find a body, his body , and an empty cauldron.

Wormtail ignored the small tug of guilt at seeing the boy cry. He'd gotten good at that. He ignored when he first started working the Dark Lord, when he started lying to his friends, when he revealed the location of the Potter's, and when he killed all those muggles and condemned Sirius to Askaban. Over time, it became easier to ignore, and it became smaller. So ignoring his guilt, he took out a vial from his robes and held it up to the blood dripping down his former best friend's son. A lookalike of one of the few people to truly trust him and care for him.

When the vial was filled with Harry's blood, Wormtail walked over to the cauldron. He poured the blood into it. The sizzling liquid inside turned from the sickening red colour it took when Wormtail sliced off his own hand, to a blinding white. It illuminated all of the nearby headstone and trees, causing Wormtail to squint at the light before finally collapsing onto the ground. He finally gave in to the sobs he had been holding back as he cradled his stump of a hand.

Harry still had tears slowly falling down his face, but they had slowed considerably. As Harry watched the cauldron, the bright light was suddenly gone. Pleading to himself that this demented ceremony had failed.

But through the mist rising from the cauldron, Harry saw it.

Rising from the cauldron. It requested its robes from Wormtail, who obliged it. As it stepped out of the cauldron, it made eye contact with Harry, causing a shiver of pain to wash through his scar.

Its eyes were vivid scarlet slitted pupils. Its nose was practically non-existent, flat against its face like a snake. Its skin was whiter than a skull, from its smooth head down to his spidery like hands.

Lord Voldemort had risen again.