"What?"
Cedric stared at Lucian in disbelief. "This… this is your victory. We can't—"
"This isn't just a tournament."
Lucian cut him off calmly.
His deep eyes seemed to look far beyond the present—past the maze, past the moment—toward something distant and dark.
"I'm going to meet an old 'friend'… barely clinging to existence."
He paused slightly.
"Going alone would be dull. More people makes it… interesting."
His words were cryptic, almost like a riddle.
"Old friend?" Fleur frowned. "Who?"
Lucian didn't answer.
He simply gestured toward the Triwizard Cup.
The Portkey Activates
Trusting him—despite not understanding—Cedric and Fleur stepped forward.
The three of them placed their hands on the Cup.
Instantly—
A violent force yanked at their bodies from the navel.
The world twisted.
Spun.
Collapsed into a blur of color and motion.
Wind roared past their ears.
Then—
BANG.
They hit solid ground.
The Graveyard
Cold.
Damp.
Silent.
They found themselves in a graveyard.
Broken tombstones.
Dead grass.
Crooked shadows stretching under pale moonlight.
In the distance stood a decaying manor—
dark windows like empty eye sockets.
"Where are we…?" Fleur whispered, gripping her wand.
Cedric scanned the area—and froze.
"Riddle…"
The name was carved into a nearby tombstone.
Wormtail Appears
Footsteps.
A hunched figure approached, carrying a dim lantern.
Peter Pettigrew.
And in his arms—
something grotesque.
A small, twisted, infant-like creature.
Hairless.
Pale-red skin.
Visible veins pulsing beneath.
A flat, snake-like face.
And burning red eyes filled with hatred.
Fleur's voice trembled.
"What… is that?"
Lucian answered calmly:
"That… is Voldemort."
"Not whole. Just a fragment."
The Killing Attempt
Pettigrew panicked seeing extra people.
Then his expression twisted with cruelty.
"Unnecessary… burdens…"
The creature hissed.
"Kill them."
Pettigrew raised his wand.
"Avada—"
Instant Suppression
Lucian moved.
Barely.
A casual flick of his hand.
No incantation.
No light.
No visible magic.
Yet—
CRACK!
Pettigrew's wand was ripped from his hand.
He was lifted into the air—
bound by an invisible force.
Struggling.
Choking.
Helpless.
All in less than a second.
Shock
Cedric and Fleur stood frozen.
They had been a heartbeat away from death.
Now?
The attacker dangled like a puppet.
They looked at Lucian—
still standing calmly, unchanged.
And something shifted inside them.
Fear of Voldemort…
was replaced by something else.
A deeper feeling.
Safety. Awe.
Voldemort Speaks
"Release… my servant…"
The creature hissed.
"Wait until I return… then fight me."
Lucian looked at it.
Unmoved.
Then—
he waved his hand again.
The force vanished.
Pettigrew dropped to the ground, gasping.
The Command
Lucian tilted his chin toward the cauldron.
And said one word:
"Continue."
Confusion
Everyone froze.
"W-What?" Pettigrew stammered.
Even Cedric and Fleur were stunned.
He was… allowing this?
Voldemort himself hesitated.
But only briefly.
Resurrection was everything.
"Do it!" he shrieked.
The Ritual
Pettigrew obeyed.
Shaking.
Terrified.
He began.
"Bone of the father… given unknowingly…"
A grave opened.
Dust and bone fell into the cauldron.
The liquid turned blue-green.
"Flesh of the servant… willingly given…"
He hesitated.
Then—
screamed.
He cut off his own hand.
Dropped it in.
The potion turned blood-red.
Fleur and Cedric looked away, pale.
"Blood of the enemy…"
A prepared vial.
Added.
Then—
He placed the creature into the cauldron.
Resurrection
Light exploded.
White.
Blinding.
Dark flames rose.
Magic surged violently through the air.
Then—
a figure emerged.
Tall.
Thin.
Deathly pale.
Snake-like face.
Red eyes burning with cold malice.
"I… have returned."
The Dark Lord
Voldemort stood fully restored.
Alive again.
Power radiating from him.
Pettigrew collapsed, worshipping at his feet.
But Voldemort ignored him.
He raised his hands—
admiring his new body.
Savoring the power.
And all the while—
Lucian Thornwick stood nearby.
Watching.
Waiting.
As if this… was exactly what he wanted.
~~--------------------------
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