Fourth Time's a Charm

lvii. tears

Cassie's POV

The Cup. I had to get to the Cup.

Repeated affirmations were the only thing that kept me moving, feeling like the ground was trying to pull me down. I wish it had. I wish I didn't have to deal with the messed-up world around me. But I did, so I would.

I was a stumbling mess, but I was getting closer and closer to the Portkey. If I could get to it I could run for it, get to Harry quick enough and we would be gone. It was just a few more steps.

"The girl," The same mysterious voice penetrated the air and Wormtail turned towards me quickly.

A red flash of light hit me and I was thrown back, slamming into a tree. Now I was even further from the cup and an ache in the lower half of my body kept me from standing up.

Just like they had for Harry, ropes conjured from nowhere, wrapping around my wrists and pulling me up. They knotted around two branches of the tree, just high enough that with my arms extended my feet grazed the ground.

Wormtail stood in front of a cauldron, speaking to the unearthly whispers. It seemed to be rushing him, to do what was going to be done. Whatever it was, it was going to be bad. And Harry and I couldn't stop it.

Wormtail lifted the baby-like creature, black fabric draping around it. Part of the hood fell back revealing a repulsive creature. It was hairless, an unnerving shade of reds with veins protruding across the skin. Crouched like a human child though it most certainly wasn't. Its face was flat, with red eyes that stared straight into your soul.

He lowered the thing into the cauldron. Mentally I begged for it to die. Drown in whatever liquid bubbled in the cauldron, suffocate before this could go any further.

Wormtail began a speech, sounding like an incantation of sorts. His voice shook, seemingly terrified of whatever was happening. If he was scared, what did that mean for us? How could things go so so so wrong?

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given."

With a wave of his wand, the ground in front of Harry trembled until there was a crack in the dirt. Dust flew from out of it, rising in the air until it delicately dropped into the pot.

I noticed a name on Harry's gravestone, half-covered by his body fighting against his ropes. It took a few moments, but as I put together the letters I caught glimpses of, the little hope still left in me completely vanished.

TOM RIDDLE read across the stone. Riddle. I heard that name from the trio far too many times. And if it was a bone from his father—

"Flesh of the servant... willingly g-given."

Wormtail had a knife trained over his arm, hand shaking as he started lowering it to meet the skin. I gritted my teeth and shut my eyes tightly, awaiting the pained screams that were sure to be coming.

The wail pierced the air as a thud hit the ground. It lingered, echoing through my mind even after it was gone. A sickening splash sounded and only occasional whimpers were heard.

I didn't want to open my eyes. I could have easily stayed staring at the safe blackness that shrouded me and waited until the end. But I didn't have that choice. Maybe if it was just me, but I was determined to get both Harry and me out of here. The only problem was figuring out how.

The liquid in the cauldron turned a deep red, swirling around quickly. Whatever was happening was working, and that was the worst outcome we could have.

Wormtail approached Harry, whose eyes were still clenched shut. The knife was clutched in his uninjured hand, stretching out towards Harry's arm.

"Harry!" I tried calling out, though it was more a strangled scream than anything. Nevertheless, it caught his attention and his eyes snapped open, immediately meeting mine.

    He focused on the man in front of him, trying to move away but unable to fight against the ropes. The knife drew down his right forearm, a jagged line as he was constantly pulling in a different direction, trying to find an escape.

I realized I was too, feeling as though the pain was burning into my own skin. Harry's face was contorted in pain, making my heart ache. Why? Why couldn't we have a normal life?

"Blood of the enemy... forcibly taken."

Wormtail pressed a glass vial to the cut, watching as it dripped in. I felt like I was going to throw up. Maybe I actually did. Everything that happened blurred together until I could hardly make out a single event.

The vial was poured into the cauldron before he turned towards me. I could no longer see the glint of the knife, but fear still set in me. I couldn't do it. It had been months since I had to feel the cold metal against my skin. The nightmares had just started to gradually stop coming.

My eyelids flutter closed. I didn't want to watch. I would simply give in to the darkness. My arms were killing me, there was surely blood coming from somewhere. I couldn't do it anymore.

A coldness pressed on my cheek. The hand of death caressing my face. But it grew too hot for me to hope I was being taken away. I looked again and Wormtail's face hovered in front of mine, the same vial held just under my eye.

"Tears of an heir... mourning what's taken."

I didn't have the mental capacity to think about what he said. Thoughts swam across my head but were gone before I could grasp them. The word heir kept drifting in and out of focus but I couldn't piece together what it meant.

Again the vial was dumped into the cauldron, causing the liquid to start violently churning. Task complete, Wormtail dropped to the ground, cradling his injured arm. I almost felt sympathy listening to his sobs. But I couldn't really, not after everything that he'd done.

Please let it go wrong. Let it drown. Please. Please. Please.

There was silence for a moment. The swirling in the pot subsided and I thought maybe it had failed. Nothing was happening. I met Harry's eyes and we both held onto that glint of hope. Behind it hid the doubt, knowing it couldn't be that easy. Nothing was ever that easy.

Then something started growing up out of the liquid. It got taller and taller, contorting in ways a human body shouldn't move. The horrid color remained, but it was getting larger, stronger.

The red eyes remained, two slits for a nose as he had always been described. I pulled against my ropes, wanting more than anything to be anywhere else. This couldn't really be happening.

But it was. Wormtail draped robes over the figure that had once been human. Now he was nothing but a monster, thought to have vanished for good.

But he hadn't.

Because Lord Voldemort had just returned.