Capítulo 77: 77 Bone, flesh and blood
Sasuke and Harry felt like they were transported to another place, where they fell to the ground.
Sasuke, dropped the Triwizard Cup.
-Where we are? she asked.
The two looked around, the Hogwarts grounds had been abandoned. It was evident that they had traveled many kilometers, because they could not even see the mountains that surrounded the castle. They were in the dark and neglected graveyard of a small church, the silhouette of which could be seen behind a large yew tree to their right. To the left rose a hill.
Sasuke looked at the Cup and then at Harry.
"Did anyone tell you that the Cup was a Portkey?" she asked.
"No one," Harry replied, looking around the graveyard. The silence was total and somewhat eerie. Will this be part of the test?
"No idea," Sasuke said seriously. Should you take out the wand?
"Yes," Harry agreed, pleased that the Uchiha had suggested it first.
"Someone is coming," he said suddenly.
Peering into the darkness, they caught a glimpse of a figure walking straight toward them through the graves. Harry couldn't make out her face; but, from the way he walked and the stance of his arms, he thought he had something in them. Whoever it was, he was of small stature, and wore a hooded cloak over his head that hid his face. The distance between them shortened with each step, allowing them to see that what the hooded man was carrying looked like a baby.
Harry lowered his wand a bit and glanced at Sasuke. He returned a puzzled look. Both of them looked again at the one who was approaching, who finally stopped next to an enormous vertical marble tombstone, two meters from them. For a second, Harry, Sasuke, and the little man did nothing but look at each other.
And then, without warning, the scar began to ache. It was a pain stronger than any other she had felt in her entire life. Raising his hands to her face, her wand slipped from his fingers. His knees buckled.
He fell to the ground and was left unable to see anything, thinking that his head was going to explode.
From afar, above his head, he heard a cold, high-pitched voice say:
"Kill the other one."
Then he heard a whistle and a second voice, which shouted into the night air these words:
"Avada Kedavra!"
Through closed eyelids, Harry caught a flash of green light, and heard something heavy crash to the floor beside him. The pain from the scar reached such intensity that he gagged, and then began to subside. Terrified at what he would see, his eyes widened.
Sasuke lay next to her, on the grass, his legs and arms outstretched. He was dead.
The little man in the cloak had put down his bundle of clothes and, wand lit, was dragging Harry towards the marble tombstone. By the light of the wand, Harry saw the name inscribed on the headstone before he was thrown against it:
Tom Riddle
The cloaked man magically conjured up ropes that held Harry firmly, tying him to the headstone from neck to ankle.
He struggled, and the man struck him: he struck him with a hand with a missing finger, and then Harry realized who was hiding under the hood: Wormtail.
-You! She said panting.
But Wormtail, who had finished holding him, did not answer: he was too busy checking the tightness of the ropes, and his fingers trembled uncontrollably as they fiddled with the knots. When he was sure that Harry was so firmly attached to the tombstone that he couldn't move an inch, Wormtail pulled a long strip of black cloth from his cloak and stuffed it into Harry's mouth. Then, without saying a word, he turned his back on her and hurried away.
Just beyond, glittering in the starlight, was the Triwizard Cup. Harry's wand was on the floor at his feet. The bundle of clothes that Harry had thought would be a baby lay near him, next to the grave.
It was shaking unnervingly. Harry looked at him, and the scar ached again... and suddenly he realized that he didn't want to see what was inside those clothes... he didn't want the mess to open up...
He heard a noise at his feet. He looked down, and saw a giant snake slithering across the grass, circling the tombstone he was tied to. He heard again, louder and louder, Wormtail's rapid, labored breathing, which he dreamed of as if he were carrying something heavy. Then he came into Harry's field of vision, who saw him pushing what looked like a stone cauldron, apparently filled with water, into the grave. He heard it splash to the floor, and it was bigger than any cauldron he had ever used: it was some kind of stone basin capable of holding a full-grown man sitting up.
The thing inside the bundle of clothes, on the floor, was shaking more persistently, as if trying to break free. At that moment, Wormtail was doing something at the bottom of the cauldron with his wand. Suddenly crackling flames sprang up beneath him. The snake slithered away into the darkness.
The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat up very quickly. The surface began to not only bubble, but also send out scorching sparks, as if it were on fire. The steam thickened, blurring the silhouette of Wormtail, who was tending the fire. The bundle of clothes began to shake more vigorously, and Harry heard her cold, high-pitched voice again:
-Hurry up!
"It's ready, master."
"Now..." said the cold voice.
Wormtail opened the tunic-like bundle of clothing, revealing what was inside, and Harry let out a cry that was drowned out by what Wormtail had stuffed into his mouth. It was as if Wormtail had lifted a stone and exposed something hidden, hideous and slimy... but a hundred times worse than can be said. What Wormtail had brought with him was in the shape of a crouching child, but Harry had never seen anything less like a child: it was hairless, and the skin was scaly-looking, a dark reddish-black, like raw flesh; the arms and legs were very thin and weak; and the face...
No child alive would ever have a face like this: it was flat and snakelike, with glowing red eyes.
He seemed unable to fend for himself: he raised his thin arms, threw them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail picked him up. As he did so his hood fell off, and Harry saw, in the firelight, a look of disgust on Wormtail's pale face as he led him to the edge of the cauldron.
Then he saw, for a moment, the flat, evil face illuminated by the sparks that flew from the surface of the potion, and heard the thud of the frail body against the bottom of the cauldron.
Let him drown, Harry thought, his scar aching almost more than he could bear. Please... let him drown..."
Wormtail spoke. His voice came out shaky, and he looked terrified.
He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night:
"Father's bone, unknowingly bestowed, you will renew your son!"
By this time, Wormtail was whimpering. He drew from inside his robe a long, thin-bladed, shining silver dagger. His voice broke into terrified sobs.
"Meat... of the vassal... willingly offered... you will revive your lord!"
He held out his right hand, the hand with one finger missing. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand, and raised it up.
Wormtail sobbed and moaned in pain. It wasn't until she felt his ragged breathing on his face that Harry realized she was right in front of him.
"S…blood of the enemy…taken by force…you will resurrect the one you hate.
Harry couldn't do anything about it, he was so firmly bound.
Glancing down, struggling uselessly with the ropes that held him to the tombstone, he saw the shining silver dagger, quivering in Wormtail's remaining hand. He felt the point enter the crook of the elbow of his right arm, and blood trickle down the sleeve of his torn tunic.
Staggering, he carried Harry's blood to the cauldron and poured it into it. Instantly the liquid turned blinding white. The job done, Wormtail fell to his knees beside the cauldron; then he fell on his side and lay on the grass, clutching his bloody stump, sobbing and gasping...
The cauldron boiled, spurting in all directions sparks so blindingly bright that everything else seemed velvety black.
nothing happened...
That he's drowned, Harry thought, that he's gone wrong...
And then suddenly the sparks flying from the cauldron were extinguished. A huge amount of white vapor billowed out in thick clouds and engulfed everything so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Sasuke or anything other than the vapor hanging in the air.
It's gone badly, he thought. He has drowned... Please... please let him be dead... »
But then, through the mist, he saw, terrified, the dark shape of a man, tall and thin as a skeleton, slowly rise from within the cauldron.
"Dress me," the cold, shrill voice said through the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and groaning, still clutching his maimed arm, scrambled for the black robe on the floor, scrambled to his feet, went to his master, and stood up. he placed it on top with one hand.
The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry… and Harry stared at the face that had nurtured his nightmares for the last three years. Whiter than a skull, with purple-red eyes, and a nose as flattened as a snake's, with little slits in it for holes.
Lord Voldemort had returned
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