ELEVEN
JUNE 24 1995
“Ladies and gentleman the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin!” Bagman’s voice tightened Harry’s shoulders and he tried to stop his shaking hands. What Sirius had said to him the tent, just didn’t make sense.
Don’t touch the cup.
The point was to win, there was no way the cup could have anything dark spelled on it. It had been checked and placed in the maze by Professor Moody, the most vigilant and paranoid Auror of them all.
Don’t touch the cup.
“Harry and Cedric - three, two, one!” The whistle blew and Harry ran forward.
“Harry!” Cedric was screaming for him from far away. “Are you alright?” Cedric bent over to help him up, “Did it fall on you?”
“No,” Harry tried to stand, bile rising in his throat as his leg shook beneath him. His vision blurred. Cedric wasn’t looking at Harry, he was staring at the gleaming cup a few feet from them. Don’t touch the cup. What Sirius said struck him again. Cedric couldn’t touch it, because something horrible waited on the other side. Sirius wouldn’t have warned him otherwise. But Harry didn’t say anything as Cedric moved toward the centre of the maze. Hufflepuff deserved the glory of having a champion. If it was truly horrible, Sirius wouldn’t have let him into the maze, Harry concluded.
Cedric turned to look at Harry, “You should take it. You've saved me twice in here.”
“That’s not how it works,” Harry retorted, but his brain told him otherwise. He needed to take the cup so Cedric didn’t. So Cedric was safe. Harry couldn’t stop the gut feeling that danger lay on the other side, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself.
“Together then,” Cedric blurted and grabbed Harry under the shoulders.
“No-” Cedric pulled Harry along towards the cup, “Cedric, no, I don’t think either of us should touch it!”
Cedric beamed at him, “On three-”
“No!”
“One, two, three-” Cedric reached for the handle and Harry grabbed it with him, desperate to make sure Cedric wasn’t in jeopardy. The moment their hands grasped the handles, their feet left the ground. The wind rushed through their robes, their ears, drowning out Harry’s cries.
They landed heavily in a graveyard and Harry stood immediately to his feet.
“Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?” Cedric asked, eyes glancing to Harry’s drawn wand.
“No,” Harry thought bitterly. Sirius had tried to warn him and he hadn’t listened. Harry looked over at the large grave in front of him.
Tom Riddle
“No!” Harry backed away from the grave quickly, leg protesting, “You have to get out Cedric. Go, touch the cup! Go!” Cedric was looking at Harry quizzically. Harry opened his mouth again to insist Cedric run when his scar burst into pain. White-hot agony ran down his face and he fell to his knees, a scream ripping from his throat.
“Harry!” Someone called his name.
“Kill the spare! ”
JUNE 25 1995
The screams began to reach the pair hidden in the garden near Hagrid’s hut. It was well after midnight now. Padfoot tensed and let out a low whine. Hermione, hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, put her hand on the dog’s back and it whined again. They both knew they were not screams of exhilaration or triumph. Pure terror had taken over the enclosure where Harry had just appeared with the body of Cedric Diggory. He’ll be okay, he’ll be okay, he’ll be okay, Hermione was telling herself desperately, as the memories of that night flooded her brain. Seeing Harry refusing to let go of his grip on Cedric. Amos Diggory’s long endless scream. Harry being pulled to his unsteady feet, blood soaking his robes.
Hermione was ready for Minerva McGonagall to come running down to the pumpkin patch. She nudged Sirius and he turned to the witch rushing towards him. McGonagall spoke loudly to Padfoot, “Dumbledore needs you to come to his office immediately.” Sirius set off, trotting, Hermione running behind him.
McGonagall kept up with the large black dog, giving the stone gargoyle the password so Sirius and Hermione could enter. As soon as the door closed behind them Padfoot transformed and Hermione ripped off the Invisibility Cloak.
“Oh fuck, Hermione what am I going to do? Fuck fuck fuck,” Sirius was pacing, pulling at his long hair. Soon Dumbledore would enter with Harry, and the two of them would have to listen to Harry reliving the past several hours. Hermione had never told Sirius the details of the graveyard - she honestly didn’t know the extent of them, as Harry had barely ever talked about it. Heavy breaths filled the room as Sirius collapsed into the chair opposite Dumbledore’s desk. Hermione rushed to his side, kneeling to meet his wild and panicked eyes.
“Sirius, look at me,” she put her hands on either side of his face, “You are going to sit by Harry’s side and be with him. You are going to listen and hold his hand and be his godfather. It will be hard. It will hurt, you know it will. But Harry needs you, alright? This has to be the worst night of his life and he needs you to be here. To be his foundation. You’re going to be okay. Harry will be okay. I promise.”
“I told him, ‘Mione,” Sirius cried, grabbing her face too, “I told him not to touch the cup-”
“You what?” Hermione gasped and her mouth dropped open in shock, at a loss for words. Surely he wasn’t that stupid. If Harry told Dumbledore that Sirius had warned him…
They heard Dumbledore’s footsteps coming up the stone stairs, louder than usual so she had time to dive for the Invisibility Cloak and throw it over herself.
The door opened and Harry stumbled in, supported by Dumbledore. Sirius jumped up from the chair and rushed to Harry’s side, putting an arm under the young boy. Hermione’s eyes feasted on her best friend, broken as he was in this moment, so different than the bright young boy that she’d seen earlier that day.
“Harry, are you alright? I knew it - I knew something like this - what happened?” Sirius was shaking from head to toe as he helped Harry into one of the chairs. Dumbledore and Sirius both sat down as Dumbledore began to explain the unfortunate journey of Barty Crouch Jr. Hermione tiptoed behind Dumbledore’s chair so she could look at Harry as much as possible. He was so young, so tired, so hurt. Her best friend was still alive and she was so desperately determined to make sure that he stayed that way.
Hermione half-listened to Dumbledore tell Sirius about young Crouch’s plan to get Harry to the graveyard. Fawkes had landed on Harry’s knee and he was stroking the large bird. The bird was comforting him, and for that she was thankful.
“I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Harry,” said Dumbledore. Hermione quietly rushed back to Sirius’ side and put a cloak covered hand on his shoulder. Sirius answered before Harry could, asking Dumbledore to let Harry rest. Sirius mimicked Hermione, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. Dumbledore stared at Harry until their eyes met. When Dumbledore spoke again it was with reverence and softness that Hermione had never heard from the Headmaster.
“If I thought I could help you by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened.”
At that moment, the large phoenix let out a deep coo, which seemed to straighten Harry’s spine and steel him for what he would have to tell Dumbledore and his godfather.
“The cup was a Portkey. Cedric and I had faced a spider in the maze and I stopped it from getting to him, so he wanted me to take the cup. I wanted him to at first,” Harry’s eyes flitted to Sirius’ and Sirius gave a shake of the head. “But then I told him no, and he insisted we take it together.” Harry’s face screwed up and he took shallow, shaking breaths.
“The cup took us to a graveyard. Cedric and I took out our wands. I thought it must be a part of the task, but no one had told us so we weren’t sure. Then I saw the grave - Tom Riddle’s grave - and someone coming and my scar, it just exploded into pain. It has never hurt like that before. I fell to the ground and then there was a voice - Voldemort’s voice. He said, 'kill the spare,' and then… then...he did. I saw him kill Cedric,” Harry said awkwardly. Sirius tried to speak but Hermione squeezed his shoulder at the same time Dumbledore held up a hand. He nodded at Harry to continue.
“Then I was lifted and tied to the grave. Voldemort’s father’s. I was tied to it and I couldn’t talk. The bundle of robes that was Voldemort was laying at the bottom of it and then,” Harry looked at Sirius, eyes shining, “Wormtail pushed a cauldron forward,” Sirius tensed at the name and opened his mouth again, only to be stopped by Dumbledore’s hand once more. Hermione held his shoulder tighter, her own hands shaking. “It was huge - I’m not sure what it was filled with, but Wormtail pulled out the… thing… that was Voldemort,” Harry shuddered and closed his eyes. “It was like a baby, but it was dark red and covered with flaky scales. All its limbs were long and bony and its eyes… its eyes were red, like his...
“Wormtail threw it into the cauldron. Then he pulled bone dust from the ground. ‘bone of the father’, ” Harry quoted, “Then Wormtail, well, he cut off his hand and put it in, ‘flesh of the servant,’ and then Wormtail came over and sliced my arm-”
“Fuck!” Sirius bellowed as Dumbledore sprang to his feet. Harry jumped and Hermione let out a gasp.
“Hold out your arm, Harry,” said Dumbledore, extending his hand. Harry placed his hand in it and Dumbledore pushed up Harry’s robe to examine the cut.
“He said my blood would make him stronger than if he used someone else’s. He said the protection my-” Harry stuttered, “my mother left in me, that he’d have it too. And he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face.” He and Hermione both shuddered at the thought of Voldemort’s skeleton fingers. Dumbledore seemed to lose all the spark in his eyes as he sat down across from Harry and Sirius once more.
“Very well. Voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. Harry, continue, please.”
“Voldemort’s snake was there. Nagini is her name. The potion turned pure white and it was sparking everywhere and then turned to steam. Voldemort was standing in the cauldron and Wormtail put robes on him and then he… he looked at me. His eyes are red and his nose is like a snake and his skin is… like marble. He turned to Wormtail and grabbed his arm. He had a tattoo of the Dark Mark that turned black when Voldemort touched it.
We were in the graveyard near where his father had lived. He told me about his parents. His dad was a muggle, and his mother died giving birth to him and left him in an orphanage,” Harry looked expectantly at Dumbledore but he did not seem surprised by the information. “The Death Eaters were summoned. They all crawled and kissed his robes before standing in a circle…
“He gave Wormtail a new hand… out of some silvery stuff. He said the Dementors would join him and let everyone in Azkaban free. Malfoy asked him how he came back and he started talking about the night my mother died,” Harry explained as much as he could remember of the speech, where Voldemort had been hiding and what had happened in the last thirteen years. “He killed Bertha Jorkins. He lived off the snake’s milk. He said he could have come back using anyone’s blood, but he wanted mine. He said I was better protected than I knew…” looking quizzically at Dumbledore, Harry continued, “He devised his plan to get at me using the Tournament. Then he… he used the Cruciatus Curse on me.”
Hermione closed her eyes, muscles twitching in remembrance of Bellatrix’s torture on her. Sirius was barely breathing now, eyes fixed on his godson. “Then he let me down. He wanted to duel me. I thought about running, but my leg…” Harry’s leg was barely bleeding now, “He made me… bow to him,” Harry spat out, almost snarling. “I couldn’t even think of a spell and he Crucio’d me again. I fell into the Death Eaters and they pushed me back towards him. He asked me if I wanted him to do it again. I refused to answer him though.
“He tried to use the Imperius Curse on me. But refused to answer him,” there was satisfaction in Harry’s voice. He had beaten a mind control curse that Voldemort had cast, which was a remarkable feat. Sirius’ chest swelled with pride for his godson.
“He tried to torture me again, but I jumped out of the way behind the headstone. He said it was the end of our duel. I didn’t want to give up. I wanted to die fighting. I didn’t know what to do, so I tried to disarm him. He used Avada Kedavra,” Harry’s voice caught, “And something happened. Our spells connected and the beams turned gold. My wand was vibrating. We were lifted into the air… and suddenly there was a phoenix song coming from the connection. And then there were a bunch of different beams of gold and then I pushed the center of the connection back to Voldemort and it connected with his wand...” Harry couldn’t talk anymore. He paled significantly and looked like he was going to be sick. Dumbledore seemed to be giving him time to process and think but it didn’t look like he would be speaking again. Hermione could see Dumbledore’s mind whirling.
“The wands connected? Why?” Sirius asked, turning to Dumbledore.
“Priori Incantatem, ” Dumbledore murmured, locking eyes with Harry again.
“The Reverse Spell effect?” Sirius bit out.
“Exactly. Harry’s wand and Voldemort’s wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact,” Dumbledore smiled and Fawkes sitting on Harry’s knee.
“My wand’s feather came from Fawkes?” Harry gasped.
“Yes. Mr Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left his shop for years ago.”
“So,” Sirius was looking at the phoenix with disbelief, “What happens when a wand meets its brother?”
“They will not work properly against each other. If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle … a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed -- in reverse. The most recent first… and then those which preceded it…” Dumbledore looked to Harry for confirmation, “Which means that some form of Cedric must have reappeared.” Harry nodded slowly, eyes shining.
“Diggory came back to life?” exclaimed Sirius.
Dumbledore shook his head, “No spell can reawaken the dead. All that would have happened is a kind of… reverse echo. A shadow of the living Cedric would have emerged from the wand… am I correct, Harry?”
“He spoke to me,” Harry gasped out, “The… the ghost Cedric, or whatever he was, spoke.” Dumbledore nodded, reiterating that it was just an echo of Cedric.
“I am guessing other forms appeared…” Dumbledore inquired, “Less recent victims of Voldemort’s wand…”
“An old man. Bertha Jorkins. And…”
“Your parents?” whispered Dumbledore.
“Yes.”
Sirius reached up and gripped Hermione’s hand over the cloak. Hermione was crying. Harry had never told her that he had seen his parents that night. She had only been given vague details of the connection and Cedric’s request.
“The last murders the wand performed. In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you retained the connection,” Dumbledore nodded, “Very well, Harry, these echoes, these shadows… what did they do?”
“They all started yelling at me to fight. To hold on. To beat him. They were also whispering things to Voldemort that I couldn’t hear. My mother appeared. She said that I needed to hold on because my dad was coming,” Sirius had buried his head in his hands, tears running down his face. Hermione didn’t let go of the vice grip on his shaking shoulder. Fawkes jumped down from Harry’s knee and was resting his head on Harry’s leg.
“My dad came out and told me that when the connection was broken they would stay for a moment and give me time to get to the Portkey and get back to Hogwarts. And then… then Cedric asked me to take his body back to his parents and I… I did,” Harry’s voice cracked and he slumped in his chair, hands shaking violently. The phoenix let large glistening tears drip into Harry’s wound and it healed itself.
“I will say it again. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight, Harry. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard’s burden and found yourself equal to it -- and you have not given us all that we have a right to expect,” Dumbledore was looking at Harry solemnly, but proudly. “You will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace… Sirius,” Dumbledore turned and looked at the man, “would you like to stay with him?” Dumbledore’s eyes flickered to the spot on Sirius’ shoulder, hidden from Harry, that was invisible because of Hermione’s grip. Sirius nodded without moving his hands away from his face and transformed into Padfoot once more.