Chapter XXXII: The Return of Riddle
(Harry P.O.V)
Harry hit the ground with a devastating thud, his ribs surely bruised by the impact he'd made onto the grey soil that coated the ground of wherever they'd landed. His body trembled as he placed his hands down into the dirt, his fingers curling from the strain as he pushed himself up, scanning the surrounding area. It was gloomy and dark, with summer showers powering down from the heavens like a hail of arrows. Crows cawed in the barren trees as lightning flashed in the sky above momentarily illuminating his view.
Harry squinted under the glare of the bright light, though he was certain he'd just managed to make out a building in the distance, it was large but nowhere near the size of the castle. It was becoming painfully clear that wherever they were, it wasn't Hogwarts. The sounds of groans slipped out from the champions beside him, Cedric leaning Fleur's limp frame against a nearby stone slab as Harry watched the Hufflepuff's eyes begin to scan feverishly. "Where are we?" Cedric whispered.
Harry remained silent, he had no answer. His heart pounded in his ears, everything about this place had given him a bad feeling. With a flick of his wrist, his wand flew to his hand, the tip of it illuminated as he walked across the soaked mud. That's when he saw it, the area was seemingly littered with tombstones, each looking horribly unkempt with ivy and moss covering the fading names. Though one stone remained clear as day, the names engraved into the base of an angelic statue a scythe in its hands. "The angel of death," Harry whispered the statue's inscription beneath his breath before he felt his heart stop in his chest, the names carved into the stone now clear as day.
In Loving Memory of; Thomas Riddle, Mary Riddle, and Tom Riddle Snr. May Their Souls Rest in Peace. "Oi!" Harry shouted out getting Cedric's attention, "We need to get out of here now!"
Almost as if to mock him, Harry watched on in horror as the gates surrounding every exit to the graveyard slammed shut, a glass-like bubble forming around them, trapping them within the cemetery. Harry's heart felt like it was about ready to beat out of his chest, his feet carrying him towards the rest of the group. "Cedric, pick up your wand! We aren't safe here!"
Cedric hadn't even bothered to ask, simply doing as he was told, the two Hogwarts Champions shielding Fleur's immobile frame as they looked towards the door of the Graveyard Chapel. Worse than ever before, Harry's scar burned like hell, his attempts at occlumency completely nullified as the Chapel door swung open, a procession of black-cloaked figures exiting the building. "Harry," Cedric whispered in concern, but he couldn't speak. His focus was completely drawn to the new group, four carrying out a cauldron larger than any Harry had ever seen before, while the figure in the front carried what looked to be a baby in its arms.
"Ah," The smallest cloaked figure whispered his voice sounding like that of a hissing snake, "Harry Potter, you've finally arrived." That voice, Harry thought to himself, his hand trembling against his will as the man continued, "Rather rude to keep us waiting so long."
"Who are you!" Cedric called out in anger, "And where are we!"
"I don't believe I was talking to you boy," The man hissed, "Bella, punish him for speaking out of turn."
"With pleasure, master," The woman replied gleefully as her crooked black wand raised to her hand, "Crucio!" Harry watched as Cedric fell to the floor, his loud screams erupting through the hollow trees, his body twitching and flopping uncontrollably. "Curcio!" The twisted lady cackled out once more Cedric's screams growing even louder. "You will address my master with respect you worm, you will speak when you're spoken to, am I-"
"Expelliarmus!" Harry called but was forced to watch in helplessly as three more masked wizards stepped forward, raising their wand shielding the cloaked lady. "Stop it!" Harry roared, "Reducto! Bombarda! Diffindo!" He unleashed spell after spell, but for every shield he broke, another had come to take its place, Cedric's body convulsing without reprieve, his screams silent by his now hoarse throat.
"It seems the boy can no longer speak," The snake-sounding man hissed out, "I believe he will no longer be interrupting us." At the tiny figure's command, the witch had stopped her torture, Cedric's body curled into a ball, his body unable to stop shaking.
"You'll pay for this!" Harry roared, "Tenimago!" Black flames poured from Harry's wand, but he felt himself freeze, unable to understand what happened as the malicious woman lifted her wand muttering the counter curse, forcing his black flames to fade.
"Who allowed a filthy half-blood like to read the works of the noble house of Black!" The woman roared with outrage, "How dare you raise your wand to my master, I-"
"Silence, Bella," The man whispered, "I'm sure Potter was just a little upset is all, nothing that we can't work out with words." Harry hadn't even had a moment to react as he found his body floating in the air against his will. The man flicked his wrist, and with rocket-like propulsion, Harry had found his body slammed into the torso of the angel statue's frame. He pushed forward, desperate to recover, but it was too late, the now charmed statue holding him back with the handle of the scythe pressed against his neck.
"Jonathan," The man whispered, "If you'd be so kind as to proceed with the ritual."
Jonathan, Harry thought to himself, Daphne's dad. The flash of lightning overhead had been enough to confirm his suspicions, his heart sinking as the mob of death eater masks came into view. Voldemort, Harry hissed in his mind. He wanted to break free, he wanted to run, if he could only get to the cup there was a chance of escape. Harry had wanted to focus his magic, though it had been broken as the tiny cloaked figure snapped, the bar of the scythe pressing hard against Harry's throat making it difficult to breathe let alone focus his magic.
Harry could only watch through frantic eyes as Jonathan lit the fire below cauldron, standing beneath Harry as he pointed his wand towards the grave beneath him, "Bone of the father," The Greengrass patriarch called out, the ground beneath him rumbling as what looked to be the femur of one of the deceased raised into his hand before being discarded into the boiling cauldron, "Unknowingly given, you will renew your son."
The death eater retreated back towards the cauldron as the man Harry was certain was now Voldemort hissed, "Lucius! Approach at once!"
"Y-yes, my lord," The man whimpered, joining Jonathan at the bubbling cauldron, a blade now hanging just over his wrist. "F-flesh of the servant," Lucius whispered, the man sounding about ready to cry, "Willingly given, you will revive your master." Without a moment's hesitation, Harry heard Lucius wail out in agony, his hand falling into the cauldron with a surgically precise strike from Jonathan.
Harry then swallowed, his eyes locking with Daphne's father, before sparing a quick glance towards Cedric. Come on Cedric, Get Up! There was no hope of reaction though, as faster than Harry could even blink, the searing pain of Jonathan's knife digging into his skin filled his entire body, his blood dripping onto the blade. Harry watched, his eyes trembling as the Head of the Greengrass House dropped his blood into the sinister concoction with a whisper, "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."
"Now Barty!" Voldemort called out as the man holding the miniature frame of the Dark Lord approached the boiling cauldron tossing his body into it without a moment's hesitation. The cauldron hissed at the tiny body's collapse into the bubbling cauldron, Harry's vocal cords feeling as if they'd been lit aflame by the agony he felt in his scar. Yet, through all the pain, Harry had felt something much worse, a magic had begun to flow out of the cauldron, a magic so foul it was what Harry imagine death personified would have felt like, a rapturous laugh somehow escaping from beneath the depths as a black mist flowed out of the pot.
Before his very eyes, the cauldron had caught fire, the bubbling growing louder as a figure began to form from beneath the flames. Harry saw his eyes, glowing serpent-like red eyes, without a doubt, those were the eyes of a devil. A scream bellowed through the air as the flames evaporated and floating there was a sight that had made Harry forget how to breathe. The man, if he could even be called that was hideous, he was thin and whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was as flat as a snake's but with slits for nostrils."
Harry watched as the man that had haunted him stood before him in the flesh, his overgrown nails running down his skin, as a look of almost euphoria filled the man's face. His servants bowed before him, lowering their heads as Harry screamed in agony, unable to do anything but gaze as Voldemort approached his most faithful, stopping before a man Harry had never seen. The man was pale with freckled skin and a mop of fair hair, his tongue hanging out as he licked his lips simply salivating. "My wand, Barty," The Dark Lord whispered as the man bowed even lower, removing a thin white-yew wand from his cloak handing it towards the figure.
"Rise," Voldemort whispered, and at their lord's command, each member of the army rose at attention, a sinister grin growing across the Dark Lord's face. "Welcome, my friends, back into the age of our supremacy. Thirteen years, it's been, and yet here you stand before me, as though it were only yesterday." Harry had wanted to shoot a killing curse right towards the man's head but had felt himself becoming dizzy from the lack of air, his eyes barely making contact with Fleur. The girl was awake no doubt, the look of fear on her face telegraphed that perfectly, and yet, she remained glued to her spot, unable to move.
"Among us, we have some new faces, members that shall be awarded for their efforts and contributions, but none so more than Jonathan Greengrass." Voldemort turned facing the blonde man who bowed once more, "You will rise to the ranks of my elite death eaters for your assistance, and once this magical world is under my command, your dominion will be second only to few."
"Thank you, my lord," The man whispered, his voice trembling.
"However, some of you, have disappointed me greatly," The man hissed, "Crabbe," At the mention of the man's name, Harry watched as the wizard fell to the ground in pain, "McNair! Goyle!" The Dark Lord sneered, "All of you were too cowardly to answer the call when I had vanished, though I suppose that is better than making a disgrace of our ranks. Isn't that so, Lucius?"
The father of Draco Malfoy hadn't moved, his body looking as if it had been glued in place as he looked at his still bleeding hand. "I-I'm sorry, my lord." Though Voldemort said nothing, simply waving his wand creating a stump where the man's hand used to be. "My lord, my hand, it hasn't been recovered. How-"
"You will get a new hand once you regain my respect, for now, you aren't fit to even wear that mask," Voldemort hissed knocking Lucius to the ground with a Cruciatus Curse dropping the man to the ground, his spasms becoming violent. Though Harry knew his nightmare was far from over as his eyes locked once more with the Dark Lord's. "Though, I suppose for those wishing to begin to reclaim their lost honor, they could start by removing the spares. I'd ordered Karkaroff to take care of it, but it seems that once again the buffoon failed me."
"Don't touch them!" Harry bellowed a sickening grin forming across Voldemort's chapped lips.
"Ah Harry, worry not, I haven't forgotten you were here," The man hissed his pale head now right in Harry's face, "Standing on the bones of my father. I'd introduce you but word has it you're almost as famous as me these days." Voldemort turned glancing at his followers, "The Boy-Who-Lived," A semblance of a chuckle had left his lips only for a moment before Voldemort's head snapped back, glaring viciously at Harry, "How lies have fed your legend, Harry. "
Once more Harry could do nothing, gazing on as Voldemort turned to face his followers, "You know of course, that they have called this boy my downfall? You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him — and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen... I could not touch the boy. His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice... This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it... but no matter. I can touch him now."
The Dark Lord swung back, placing one of his long bony fingers against Harry's scar. It hurt, to Harry it had felt as if a thousand blades had been skewered into his body, the torture curse feeling like child's play to his current agony. "Astonishing what a few drops of your blood will do, isn't it, Harry?" Harry gasped for air as Voldemort broke the handle that held his throat his knees hitting the damp ground with a thud, "Pick up your wand, Potter, pick it up!"
Harry gripped the base of the statue, pulling himself to his feet as Voldemort paced incessantly, "You've been taught how to duel I presume? First, we bow to each other, I didn't go through all this work for you to spoil my fun. To imperious Crouch Sr. to recover your birth certificate and my wand from the Ministry, using your mother's writing of your name to form the contract with the goblet. Ordering Crouch to tamper with the goblet so it would choose you. It was a lot of work, and I won't have it go unappreciated, now bow!"
"Imperio!" Voldemort cried. Harry had felt the effects of the imperious curse before, but the pressure of Voldemort's will was like none that he'd ever seen before, his body fighting vigorously against the command as Voldemort frustratingly only got the slightest bow from him. "Now, we can begin," Voldemort hissed, "Depulso!" He roared, knocking Harry to the ground, "Crucio!" Though Harry had just managed to roll out of the way of the Dark Lord's spell, springing to his feet, his eyes just barely catching the glow of the portkey.
"Miasmora!" Harry bellowed a plume of black smoke rising around him as he raced towards his fellow champions.
"Crucio!" Voldemort cried out into the mist, "Don't you dare run from me, Potter! I want you to look at me when I kill you! I want to see the light leave your eyes!" Harry continued to bolt, dodging blast after blast of magic, before he hit the ground with an agonizing scream. The curse was beyond hellish, putting even Moody's version to shame as Harry tried crawling towards Cedric and Fleur, hoping to get to the Portkey, Cedric's body looking as if it had finally stopped the violent shaking.
"Come out now!" Voldemort roared as a gust of wind dispelled his smokescreen, his gliding footsteps approaching him faster than Harry could move. Harry glanced up at the red eyes of the man now standing before him, "No, no, no, don't tell me you were trying to escape. Harry, I cannot even begin to express how disappointed I am."
Voldemort turned his eyes falling upon Fleur and Cedric's exhausted bodies, "Ah I see, just as foolish and noble as your father. You're worried about their safety. Well, I can't have you being distracted."
Harry watched in horror as Voldemort pointed his wand over Cedric's beaten body, "Stop it! Don't touch them! If you want me to fight you then let them go!"
"Harry, Harry, Harry, how naive you are, much like your mother. For all your blood traitorous father's faults, he at least understood one simple fact of life… The weak don't get to choose how they die."
"Reducto!" Harry bellowed, forcing Voldemort to sidestep the blast, his aim no longer on Cedric as Harry turned to Fleur, "Grab him!" The Veela pushed forward, using whatever strength she had to grasp Cedric's shirt as Harry stretched out his hand, "Accio!" He called out the cup zooming towards him before with a flick of his wrist he aimed it towards Fleur's body.
"Do you think I'm a fool?" Voldemort hissed, "Avada Kedavra!"
Harry watched in agony, unable to deny what his eyes saw as a flash of green light hit Cedric's body just before the cup had touched Fleur, the two champions vanishing from the graveyard just as the life left Cedric's core. "Cedric!" Harry called out in anguish, but he had no hope of a reply, the boy had been struck, and Harry was now alone with the Dark Lord and his followers.
"Unfortunately, I missed on, but knowing the fools that lead the ministry, it is unlikely that anyone shall believe the girl's story anyway." Voldemort's voice was chilling as he spoke, "Then again, I suppose none of that matters after I kill you. With their hero gone, the wizarding world will fall within weeks to my power."
"You bastard," Harry growled, the pain in his body now dwarfed by the anger in his chest, "How dare you kill Cedric! Reducto!" Voldemort jetted out of the way, a look of frightening glee gripping his face before a cackle escaped his lips. Harry stumbled, pushing himself upward as he glared towards the mad man, "I've had enough of this. All my life I've dreamed of killing you, now I finally have the chance."
"Hmm, you talk as if you truly believe you can kill me," Voldemort said approaching him, "But you don't understand just how minuscule your power is compared to mine. Fear not though, Harry. I will ensure you understand before I send you to meet your filthy mudblood mother. Avada Kedavra!"
Harry's body jolted out of the way just in time as he snapped his finger, casting the disarming charm. While impressed, Voldemort was not caught off-guard, his wand remaining firmly in his hand as he batted away the spell. Diffindo! Reducto! Bombarda! Stupefy! Harry shot spell after spell, his breaths growing harder and harder to draw as his body trembled from exhaustion. "Good! Good! That's what I want to see! Struggle! Struggle to survive like your blood-traitorous father."
Harry pupils dilated as he watched a flaming snake the size of a basilisk erupt from Voldemort's mouth, the fire feeling different than any he'd come across before. The flaming beast bolted towards him as Harry bobbed and weaved out of its non-stop barrage. Fuck, Harry cursed his right arm getting burned unable to fully dodge the snake's head, I can't keep this up much longer, gotta think of something.
"Miasmora!" Harry bellowed once more creating a smokescreen to hide and catch his breath. Come on Harry, think, think! That's it, Harry thought, looking up at the clear barrier that hung over the graveyard, if this is an apparition barrier, then I only have one shot out of here. "Kreacher," Harry whispered.
His body flooded with relief as the elf appeared before him, but before the elf could say a word, Harry slapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes transmitting the dire situation to the elderly house elf. "Get me out of-," Harry had stopped his command, however, as Voldemort's words echoing in his mind, it is unlikely that anyone shall believe the girl's story anyway. "Son of a bitch," Harry cursed as he looked towards Kreacher. "I have an idea, but I don't like it."
Harry had rarely seen fear fill Kreacher's face the way it did when Voldemort's voice bellowed, "Come out and face me, Potter! Your parents would be so ashamed of your cowardice!" It was clear that the voice had haunted the poor house elf's memory as he turned to look up at Harry begging for the two of them to leave.
"Kreacher," Harry whispered, "Get on my back, and when I give the order, I need you to apparate me back to the center of the quidditch pitch, a place where everyone can see what's happening."
"Master Harry are you planning to-"
"Yeah," He nodded, "It's dangerous Kreacher, and I won't blame you if you want to leave right now. I would-"
"Master Harry is a true and noble heir of Black, Kreacher would be honored to fight by Master Harry's side, just as he did for Master Regulus."
Harry nodded, his heart sinking at the thought of his idea before looking up at Kreacher, "Are you ready?" The elf nodded, "Okay, well, here goes nothing." Harry swallowed hard as he stepped forward from his hiding place the elf strapped to his back with a conjured chain. Like a lamb to the slaughter, Harry had re-entered the ring, but his assistant hadn't gone unnoticed for long.
"Kreacher!" The lady Harry now knew to be Bellatrix called out, "Kreacher what are you doing with that filthy Half-Blood, I command you to leave this place immediately."
Harry had felt his chest grow tight as Kreacher barked back, "Kreacher does not serve you LeStrange. Kreacher serves Master Harry Potter, Heir to the Noble House of Black, and Successor to the Great Regulus Black."
"You worthless little elf!" Bellatrix roared, "How dare you disobey my-"
"Regulus," Voldemort spoke with a hiss, "Ah yes, I remember him, he died like the traitorous scum he was, alone and in agony." Regulus was a traitor? Harry thought to himself with confusion, but he had no time to delve further into those thoughts as a crooked grin filled the Dark Lord's face, "And his successor will die the same way."
"We'll see about that," Harry whispered, preparing his legs for one last sprint, "Bring it on you snake-nosed Bastard!"
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort bellowed, but much to his surprise, Harry hadn't run away from it, rather towards it, the flash of the Dark Lord's killing curse reflecting just off the corner of Harry's eyes as it zipped past his face, the presence of death closer to Harry than he'd ever felt before. But he couldn't worry about that, there wasn't any time to, as with all the strength he could muster, he reached forward grabbing Voldemort's cloak.
"Unhand him now!" Bellatrix roared her hand flinging something shiny from her side, but Harry paid her no mind, his eyes looking more feral than even Voldemort's as a sinister smirk of his own formed along Harry's lips.
"You're coming with me," Harry hissed, "Kreacher now!" A loud crack filled the air followed by a gasp from Kreacher, and then, the two wizards apparated.
(Daphne P.O.V)
When Krum's unconscious body had turned up first without the cup, the reaction of both Karkaroff and the Bulgarian students was almost comical. However, everything had shifted at the next arrival, to her surprise, two people had emerged from the maze, though neither held the Triwizard Cup in hand. The cup instead discarded on the ground as Fleur's body was draped over Cedric the girl looking like she was crying.
"My word!" Bagman called out, "That's the Triwizard Cup! No doubts about it! And it looks like it has been retrieved by none other than Miss Fleur Delacour! What an upset to the rank-"
"Help!" Fleur shouted, "Help!" Daphne pushed forward trying to get a closer look as she caught the shimmer of Dumbledore's silver hair racing towards the French Champion, tears flowing uncontrollably from her eyes as her body laid upon an unmoving figure. "He's hurt!" Fleur called out, "Help him!"
Cedric! Daphne's mind had felt like it was going numb as Dumbledore helped guide Fleur's body off the Hufflepuff prefect, the crowd gasping at the unordinary paleness of Cedric's skin. "Merlin," Bagman whispered, "Is the boy- Dumbledore is the boy-"
Daphne had felt a large figure push against her shoulder, her eye barely making it out to be Amos Diggory as he bolted down the stands towards his son, "That's my boy!" The man called out his voice tearing as he spoke, "That's my boy!" Daphne couldn't even think let alone speak as she watched Amos raced towards the unmoving Cedric cradling him in his arms
"Ms. Delcaour," Dumbledore said firmly, "What happened? Tell me everything."
"He's back," Fleur whispered, "He's back. The Dark Lord. I saw him, he killed Cedric. He would have killed me too if Harry hadn't- if Harry hadn't-"
"Where is Harry?" Dumbledore spoke with his voice filled with panic for the first time, sending Daphne's heart racing as she was soon met by Remus, Tonks, and Sirius all looking over her shoulder at the base of the Quidditch Pitch.
"He stayed behind!" Fleur called out unable to control herself as she rocked in fear, "The cup was a Portkey, it took us to some graveyard, and the Death Eaters were there. They revived him, The Dark Lord is back!"
No, Daphne hissed, watching as without a moment's hesitation Sirius bolted towards the cup, only stopped by Remus pinning him down to the ground. "Get off me, Remus!" Sirius roared, "I have to get to Harry!"
"Even if that Portkey did bring you back what's the point of you going without any idea of what's-"
Remus hadn't even had a chance to finish his sentence as a loud pop echoed through the pitch, the sight before them leaving Daphne unable to breathe. Harry had returned looking bloody and beaten, his body straddled over a man whose appearance had made her queasy, the figure's red eyes sending chills down her spine. "You bastard!" Harry roared before with a monstrous crack, she watched her boyfriend's fist make contact with the snake man's face, blood leaking from the older man's nostrils.
A loud roar erupted from the man sending Harry flying backward into the stands, the mysterious man's eyes scanning his new location with such bloodlust as he roared, "Damn you, Harry Potter!" The crowd screamed in terror, the students racing towards the exit as the professors stood there in utter disbelief. The figure raised her wand once more towards the crater he'd shoved Harry into as he hissed, "Avada Kedavra!"
Though faster than Daphne could blink, a stone slab had been conjured, the marble erupting at the contact dissipating the killing curse. "You don't look nearly as in control as you normally do, Tom," Dumbledore spoke in a flat tone approaching the black-clad wizard, "It was foolish of you to allow yourself to be brought into the public view."
"I agree, old man, it is certainly not ideal," The wizard's voice had shifted greatly becoming calmer, and somehow more frightening, "Though I suppose it matters not if I simply kill you and the boy here."
"Without a doubt, the Auror's are already on their way," Dumbledore whispered, "It would be wiser for you to simply surrender."
"Yes what you say may be true, but by the time the main force arrives, I shall be gone, and you, shall be dead." The snake-like wizard raised his wand as he bellowed, "Avada Kedavra!" But Dumbledore simply dodged with ease flicking his wand making the whole stadium erupt as large mounds of the earth became lifted into the air. Daphne ducked as the clapping of Dumbledore's hand sent the orbs of pure earth towards the foul wizard, yet to her surprise, the wizard had elevated himself into the air, flying without assistance.
"I'm wasting too much time," The man hissed, "Time I don't have." Daphne couldn't even begin to understand what she was seeing, but it didn't take the ability to sense magic to understand that she was way out of the two elderly wizards' league. She watched as more and more Auror's had begun to rush the stands each with their wands drawn at the man.
"It can't be," She heard an Auror to her left whisper.
"There's no denying it," An Auror that had appeared to her right whispered, "That's him."
"Put the wand down, Tom," Dumbledore called out, "It's over."
"No, no, no," The man Daphne knew could be none other than Voldemort whispered, "It's only just begun. My initial plan may be ruined but there will be more chances. Though I suppose, you win this one, old man." A wave that felt similar to the one Harry had expelled during the ritual had shot through the entire arena, sending nearly every Auror flying backward.
Daphne's body had begun to tremble uncontrollably as the foul sensation of his magic filled every cell in her body. Though alongside Dumbledore, the other person left standing was none other than Harry, his eyes now looking venomous as he roared out, "Come back here coward!" Daphne had never heard that level of mania release from her boyfriend's lips, "Come back and fight me!"
Her legs had seemingly begun to move on their own as she raced toward Harry, the boy looking just about ready to die standing up. She'd seen Harry in a variety of horrendous physical conditions but never had she found Harry looking so weak. She watched as Harry's legs trembled just to support his weight, the way blood leaked from what looked like hundreds of mini-gashes all over his body. His arms were caked with red mud, and his breathing had looked so faint. Harry, She whispered in her mind, knowing now that the only thing keeping him from collapsing was his will and hatred towards the escaping Dark Lord.
Though even that couldn't last forever as he fell forward into Daphne's arms, his breathing shallow, that's when she saw a sight that was possibly even more horrifying than her boyfriend's condition. Strapped to Harry's back was a crushed figure, the back of its head compounded thanks to the impact of Harry crashing into the wall. If the obvious head damage wasn't bad enough though, the silver blade that had seemingly pierced clean through the creature's chest cavity had made it clear it's injuries were fatal. "M-master H-Harry."
The tiny elf's voice had become instantly recognizable to Daphne as she cut the conjured chain from around Harry's torso tying the elf to his back. The familiar house-elf had fallen with a thud, the knife now clearly protruding through the front of its chest, the bleeding happening at an extremely fast rate. "Kre-acher," Harry panted out, turning to face the damaged elf by his side, his eyes filling with pain as she watched Harry look down at the servant of House Black.
"Did Kreacher- did Kreacher do a good job?" The weak House-Elf whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked up in a daze to the sky, "Do you think-," Kreacher coughed, blood spouting from his mouth, the fluid clearly beginning to build in the small elf's lungs, "Do you think I made Master Regulus proud."
"Yeah Kreacher," Harry whispered his voice filled with anguish as he reached his hand out towards the dying elf, "I know you made him proud."
"Kreacher has one last request," The elf whispered, "In Kreacher's room, in this third cabinet, there is a locket. Master Regulus said it was important to the Dark Lord, Master Regulus told Kreacher to destroy it. But it doesn't look like Kreacher is going to be able to complete that order." Blood spewed from Kreacher's mouth, splattering on the ground as Daphne felt the elf's skin growing cold, "Promise Kreacher that Master Harry will destroy the locket for him. Promise."
"I promise, Kreacher," Harry whispered, tears now leaking from the boy's cheek as he dragged Kreacher closer to him hugging the tiny elf. "I promise I will."
"Kreacher is happy," The elf whispered, "Kreacher was a lucky elf, Kreacher was proud to serve the Great Harry Potter." Harry hugged the elf tightly, the leaking blood pouring onto his shirt as tears streamed uncontrollably down his eyes, the coldness of the body becoming readily apparent to Harry.
Daphne watched helplessly as Harry turned to face Fleur and Cedric. The French Veela cried uncontrollably as Madam Maxime did whatever she could to comfort the girl, but that had been far less painful than Cedric's father, who held his son's corpse wailing in agony. "Damn it," She heard Harry whisper below his breath as Sirius and Remus each placed a supportive hand on his shoulders, "Damn it all."