Twin Power *Cedric Diggory Love Story* (EDITING)

Voldemort returns

And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his Cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.
"Flesh of the servant, willingly...sacrificed, you will revive your master." He stretched his right hand out in front of him -- the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.

I realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened -- I looked away, clamping my hands over my ears, but I couldn't block out the scream that pierced the night. A sickening splash followed as Wormtail's hand dropped into the cauldron.

The potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone across my brown eyes.

Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony as he staggered up to Harry. "B-Blood of the enemies...forcibly taken...you will...resurrect your foe,"

Harry could do nothing to prevent it. The stone handle of the statue's sickle left him immbobilized.

I saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtail's remaining hand. Its point penetrated the crook of Harry's right arm, making a deep cut, causing Harry to emit a horrid scream of pain. Blood seeped down the sleeve of his shirt. Wormtail, still panting with pain, fumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it. Then he went to Cassia and made a similar cut, taking the same amount of blood.

He staggered back to the cauldron with their blood. "The Dark Lord...shall rise...again," he said as he poured the blood into the cauldron. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.

The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness.

The deformed creature rose up out of the cauldron, taking the form of a thin man. Billowing clouds of black smoke engulfed him, turning into robes to cover his body. The man slowly floated to the ground, in front of the cauldron, and passed his hands over his face as features began to show. Before long, I was staring at the man who had murdered countless innocent people. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's, with slits for nostrils...

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

Barefoot, he walked over to the cowardly man who had helped restore him to his body.

Wormtail's robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.

"My wand, Wormtail," Voldemort requested.

Wormtail fumbled in his pocket for a few moments, before handing him a skeletal-looking wand.

"Hold out your arm," Voldemort said lazily.

"Oh, Master...thank you, Master..." Wormtail extended the bleeding stump.

"The other arm, Wormtail!" Voldemort hissed.

Wormtail retracted his bleeding stump and held out his left arm. Voldemort forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow, and I saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. I remembered the image from when it had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup; the Dark Mark. Seeing it again frightened me more than I cared to admit. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.