Luna's POV
Luna sat in the Room of Requirement bawling her eyes out. She came here because she felt closer to Harry in this room. It was where she spent most her time watching him. When he was working, he gave very little attention to any observers. No, he concentrated on teaching those he was sparring with. He was hardly ever caught unawares, making her wonder how he got caught in the first place. She knew that he had some kind of alarm system in his head that let him know who was around him. He had showed her and Neville the first time they came into this room.
Another reason he relaxed here, was that and he was surrounded by friends. There no manipulative men running around this room, no Dark Lord lurking in the showdown, or vindictive Potions Masters sneering at them. The amnesiac was quite at home here. She looked around and saw places where he let go and just be a teenage boy. Laughing and teasing his friends, and generally pulling those that knew about this room into his very ridged circle. It was very hard to get close to Harry, but once you got there the companionship of the teen was a wonderful feeling.
Right now, she drew that feeling of closeness around her like a comforting cloak. She wanted to embrace the fact that he was strong, and powerful. She was hoping that by thinking those thoughts they would waylay her fears. However, she hated the fact that there was nothing she could do to save Harry from whatever he was facing. Not that she knew exactly what it was, only that he had to go it alone.
She had no idea if it was going to be tragic, complicated, or simple. All she knew was that she wasn't going to be standing by his side, which was devastating her. She hadn't felt this way since her mum died in front of her. It was distressing then, and it was overwhelming now. Not matter how safe she felt, she could stop the tears.
She damned her sight for not giving her more to work with. She had told Sirius all that she had seen. It did little good, because Harry was gone before she could get help. She couldn't even tell who had kidnapped him. All she saw was him tied to a large stone object. His head was lolled like he was drugged or knocked out by a blow. She truly hoped it was the first, since a head injury might aggravate his amnesia. Of course, if what they thought about Snape was true, a potion might as well.
Luna had been crying for about a half an hour, when Hermione, Neville and the twins joined her in the Room. They had made their way here when they couldn't find neither her, or Harry. They started when the group noticed the couple was missing at lunch. Worried, they looked for them, first they searched for the missing male in the dorms. Then they looked in the Shrieking Shack for the couple, when no one was there, they came here.
The jovial group didn't expect to see one of their friends crying. They thought they would catch the two snogging. The twins had even planned a joke to break them apart. It would have been great. They had put their money on those two getting together. No matter what Harry says, there was a great deal of tension between the two youngest members of their group. The others really hoped that it wasn't something Harry had done to the girl that was making her cry. Because they, like Luna, treasured the tightness of the friendship they all shared.
Upon seeing her friend in tears, Hermione marched straight to her, sat next to the blonde and hugged her close. "What's wrong? Did Harry do something?" she asked but got a shake of the head for an answer, which made everyone sigh in relief. "Oh? Did those bullies start up again? Do we need to have a talk with them?" she asked as she stroked the blonde's hair.
Those damn girls started up again when they noted they weren't getting hurt by Luna's pranks. It had then taken all of them to get the girls in Ravenclaw to back off. Not even the twins' pranks helped, since they had to keep them non-harmful. It wouldn't do if they got expelled. Unlike Harry, everyone else was expendable to the Ministry and the Board. It wasn't until Harry threatened to do damage to their looks that they finally did. The Ravenclaw bullies knew that he meant business when one of the girls in Luna's dorms came down with a cast of bright orange skin and green hair, which Harry admitted Sirius had been the inspiration for. It had taken her giving back his friend's schoolbooks for him to turn her back.
"Yeah," said the twins. "We'll talk to them," they offered as they cracked their knuckles. They were tired of being held back by the rules. And no one messed with people they cared about. Besides if they were smart about it, it would never be pinned on them. The new magic that Harry had taught them, would make it impossible to get caught.
"No one messes with our friend," added Neville, echoing the lookalikes' thoughts as he sat on the girl's other side. He didn't hug her, but he did run his hand up and down her arm in a comforting gesture.
"No, it's not them," the distraught girl said softly with another shake of her head. She sat up a bit and dried her eyes, looking at the people who were dear to her. Taking a deep breath, she explained, "While I was sitting in History class, reading along with Professor Binns, I had a vision that Harry was going to be kidnapped. I didn't know if it had already happened, so I left class straightway and went to Sirius. He got ahold of Mr. Lupin, and we discovered that I what I saw was true. Harry has disappeared," she stated as fact. The tears started again and fell faster, but she was feeling a bit better to be surrounded by friends. She laid her head on Hermione's shoulder and closed her eyes, letting the older girl comfort her.
"Are you sure?" her only female friend asked delicately as she firmed her grip. She was both worried and disbelieving. Even with all the things the girl had predicted, Hermione still had a hard time believing that anyone could see the future. The fact that it was random, vague, and sporadic proved to the older girl that it wasn't real. "It's not that I don't want to believe you, it's just…" there was no way to word that without being condescending, and she didn't want to appear that way. Especially if Luna was right and Harry was in trouble again.
"I understand, I really do. You've been taught all your life that divination isn't real, and unlike magic you don't have the sight. However, Sirius has a mirror that he can communicate with. He called Mr. Lupin and confirmed it. Harry's gone," the smaller girl stated, snuggling further into the embrace. It was very rare that she felt such love as she did with these people. Even when Hermione didn't believe her, she still took the time to listen.
"Okay, is there anything we can do?" the bushy-haired girl asked, rubbing the other girl's arm. She looked at the boys to see how they were taking it. They seemed to believe the seer. Maybe it was something she should consider harder.
"No, Harry has to face whatever, or whoever, it is alone," was the watery answer as the girl in her arms started crying to the point she was near hysterics. The bushy-haired girl turned a bit and encased her friend in a full hug. Willing her to calm down, not that she felt much better knowing her best mate was in trouble, again.
"Shite," the three males said as they all looked at each other with worried faces. One thought ran through all their heads. 'Who? Dumbledore or Voldemort?'
"Yeah," agreed Hermione, thinking the same thing.
Remus's POV
The first thing that Remus did, when he got off the mirror, was run outside and start searching. He went around the entire circumference of the building. He started at the main doors sniffing and observing. He toppled over trash bins, pushed abandoned boxes and furniture out of the way, and put his nose to the walls and close to the ground. It was times like this he wished his wolf form was his Animagus form. Then he could really get down and dirty with the ground. But it wasn't, so he had to contend with leaning over.
When he had scented the whole area, his shoulders slumped, because he found no trace of Harry. Back and forth he paced along every wall, twice. Picking up trash to try and find the trail, but there was not even a hint. The only clue he had was the vague trace of the vile perfume at one of the back walls. He got up close and personal with said wall, but it was thick, and the smell was faint. Still, he made a mental note about it and continued with his search.
After he circled the building for the third time, still coming up empty-handed, he made his way inside. Starting on the ground floor and working his way up, he nosed around the entire building. He pushed into offices, searched in corners, and generally looked everywhere. The only time he smelled Harry was when he scented himself, except for the trail to the Minsters office. When he found nothing more, he gave it up as a bad job. Mostly his senses were overwhelmed by manmade fragrances. Perfume and aftershave were the prevailing odors.
Defeated he went to join Madam Bones, who was back at the crime scene. She had spent of her time questioning everyone and generally doing what Aurors did when confronted with a kidnapping. What she had found was that Umbridge had stood guard at the door and threatened anyone who came near. Amelia concluded that whatever happened, the toad like woman was involved. Right now, she was looking around trying to pick up any clue as to where the boy hero went, the only thing she had was the teacup. There was definitely a potion on the inside of it. Bagged and tagged, she gave it to an Auror she trusted to hold on to until she could examine it closer. She had no idea who brewed it, but judging from the note on the calendar, Fudge had talked to Snape in Azkaban. Heaving a weary sigh, she knew she'd have to question the man, again. It seemed that whenever it came to Potter being in trouble that vile man was near. Even now, when he was in the securest place in England.
Those were the only clues she could find. It was obvious that Fudge kidnapped Potter, but she didn't know why, or how they got out of the damn office. No one saw them leave, and as far as she knew the Minister didn't have an invisibility cloak, or any other means to make himself, or another, unseen. Umbridge was no better.
Making it logical that there had to be an escape route in this office. She had been tapping on the walls to see if they were hollow, so far they all came back as solid. She had thrown spells around, but they all came back as negative. She didn't believe it for a moment. There had to be a trick and she was just going to have to search harder. That was for later though. Right now, Lupin needed to be questioned on his search.
"Tell me you found a trail," she demanded of the werewolf as soon as he entered, even though she knew from the sad look on his face he hadn't.
"Nothing," the tired man confirmed. He stood in the doorway, so that he wouldn't contaminate the crime scene any more than it already was. "There is no scent of him in the surrounding area. The only trail I could find was from earlier. It's like he disappeared from this office," was his exhausted reply. "I did however catch the smell of the perfume which is heaving in the air here. It's at the back wall, just under that window," he added, vaguely waving his hand at the window on the far wall. He was still slouching in shame that he let this happen.
"Well, damn," was her rejoinder. "I know they didn't Disapparate, or use a Port-key, the wards are still up." That was the first thing she checked. There was no magical residue of either mode of transportation. The only spells she could detect were a mouth freshening spell and a Levitation Charm, which was faint, like it someone tried to cover it, but wasn't strong enough. "Thank you for trying. I'll see what we can find on that wall. However, I believe it is time for you to go home," she all but ordered the tired man.
"I'm not sure I want to do that," he confessed, very concerned as to how Sirius was going to react. His friend had a very volatile temper, and Moony hated being on the receiving end of it.
"You can't run from your mistakes," Amelia said kindly, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze. She then dropped it and started looking through the papers on the desk, again. She was thinking there just had to be something there to show who the mastermind was. All she had to do was follow the money, Fudge was well known to take bribes. Maybe she needed to get the Wizengamot to get her a court order to seize his vault. Something had to be done.
Seeing that she was now busy doing her job, the werewolf rose and made his way to the door. "You're right," he conceded as he walked. He stopped in the doorway and turned. "I'll get back to you if I hear anything. I know Sirius is searching the Alley. So, maybe he'll find something. Goodbye, Madam Bones."
"Farewell, Mr. Lupin," the head of the DMLE didn't even look up as the man left.
Sirius's POV
Sirius Black couldn't help but remember Luna's words that searching would be futile. She was so positive that Harry would not be found until he completed… whatever it was he was to complete. However, he was having terrible visions that his godson might be being tortured. Years of painful memories, and the fact that he never forgave himself for the death of the boy's parents, made him envision terrible things happening to Harry. Over and over again, he kept seeing some of the Wizarding World's most painful curses being cast on his godson. Which is what drove him here, sniffing around the trash bins, and looking in the larger ones, praying he didn't find a body.
It wasn't that he didn't believe the young blonde girl when she said it was futile, but he just couldn't sit at home, thinking of those scenes, doing nothing. He was going to do his best to make sure he did everything humanly possible to get Harry back. Perhaps, it was a bit of penance that he do so. Whatever drove him here, he was going to finish his task. So, he nosed around the alleys in the Alley some more. Sneezing at some of the more pungent odors.
The only thing that kept his spirits from plummeting into despair, was that she didn't see what was happening now. She only sawthat he was kidnapped and tied to a stone. Not what happened after. So, Sirius, despite the terrible things he was imagining, had great hope that the boy's new magic would get him out of any serious situation. Letting him return to his family and friends unscathed. Though he was still quite vexed at Remus and Bones for this happening in the first place.
His anger was being held back by a fingernail. The books he had been reading were helping a lot in maintaining his cool demeanor, but inside he was a curse ready to go off. The only thing that would calm that volcanic temper was Harry right in front of him.
It took the better part of an hour, but Padfoot had looked all over Diagon Alley, but like the werewolf found nothing. When he had sniffed every corner twice, he went back to the Shack. He expected to be alone to wallow in his grief and anger, but he was met by all of Harry's friends, who had decided here was the best place to wait for news. Not that that upset him in the least. He was glad they were here. It might keep him from killing Remus.
"Did you find him?" asked Hermione urgently. She was sitting next to Luna with an arm around her shoulders. She looked at him with such hope that Sirius was saddened that he only had bad news.
"No," he said with a shake of his head as he made his way across the room, "but I'm pretty sure that he'll be fine," he added, not wanting to show his doubts to the kids. "Think of all the great things he can do with just a thought. How could he not be okay?" the older man asked as he took a seat. He was glad to see his words had the effect that the wanted. The teens' faces turned thoughtful, and glimmers of hope appeared in their eyes.
They were just so used to Harry being in over his head, and coming out of dangerous situations hurt, sometimes near death, that they didn't even think about it. Now that they put their minds to it, yeah, it was quite possible that he'd be okay.
Winky popped in and handed her master a cup of tea, with a dash of Firewhiskey. The grateful man took a sip and let the alcohol relax him. A small bit of steam came from his ears, showing the others that he was drinking something besides tea. Only the twins wished they could join him, but Padfoot had made it very clear that he would not supply alcohol to minors.
"I'm sure you're right. I just feel so helpless, sitting here doing nothing," the bushy-haired girl stated with a great deal of frustration. She wasn't used to being left behind. The only time she was not a part of a Harry Adventure in the past, was when she had been petrified. It was not a good feeling, useless.
"Who do you think has him? Dumbledore? Or You-Know-Who?" Neville asked as he worried the hem of his shirt. While he was sure that Harry would be back, he had been raised that both these men were the most powerful men alive. It was hard to get his brain around the fact that a teenager could wipe the floor with them.
"I don't know, for all we know it could be some woman who paid Fudge to kidnap him. Maybe she wants to snare him into a betrothal contract. I am sure that as manipulative as our Minister is, he is not the headman in charge of the kidnapping," the dogman replied, taking another sip of his tea.
"Whoever it is, is going to pay. Fudge too, if we can get near him. I believe you're right, Padfoot, he's not the type to think something like this up," Fred declared angrily. His face was twisted in a something dangerous. It was the same look that he wore when Ginny disappeared in her first years. He and his brothers were ready to tear the castle apart. Only their mum held them back.
"That's right. We may be pranksters, but don't think for a minute that we can't be deadly," George confirmed with a curt nod of his head. He too had quite the angry look. Many of their joke items could be twisted to get that type of job done. One only needed imagination, and the twins had that in abundance.
"Okay, guys, let's not go there just yet," Neville said, trying not to let anyone die needlessly. "However, if he's hurt, happy cursing," he added with a smirk.
The twins put their heads together and started thinking of ways to get their revenge. If it was needed.
"You make a good point, Sirius. That also means it could be Malfoy's dad," Hermione said thoughtfully, bringing everyone's attention to her, bar the twins.
"Why on earth would it be him?" Sirius asked, finishing off his tea. He was thankful when Winky gave him another.
"Well, Harry and Draco don't really get along. And Draco is always saying his father will make Harry pay for the things he has said and done," the girl stated thinking it was quite possible, especially now that Harry was a bit more brutal with his paybacks.
"That's an understatement," scoffed the sandy-haired wizard. "Besides, even if it is Malfoy Sr. we couldn't get past his wards, so we'll just have to wait."
"Still, I feel so hopeless just sitting here," the other girl stated, twisting her hair in her fingers of her free hand.
"Don't fret, Hermione. I get the feeling that we will be seeing our wayward friend very soon," the suddenly perky blonde said as she sat up, wiped her eyes on a handkerchief that Neville had given to her, and straightened her skirt. The smile on her face gave her words credence.
Everyone who believed she was a seer, relaxed.
Hermione huffed, but didn't say anything.
"Well, now that we know he's going to be home soon, let's practice our Animagus forms," Neville suggested, grateful that that weight was off his shoulders. He had a lot of faith in Luna's predictions.
"We'll help," chorused the twins.
"I don't know if I can. I don't think I can concentrate enough," Hermione stated, still agonizing over Harry.
"You can watch," Luna suggested as she got up to join the boys. "Perhaps, you'll pick up what you're missing."
Hermione huffed again, but reluctantly followed the others. She did need to figure out why she was the only one would hadn't completely changed form yet.
While they weren't having a great time, and wouldn't until Harry returned, the exercise did get their minds off the kidnapping.
Harry's POV
An hour later, according to his mind crew —who had been frantically trying to wake him— Harry woke. He was tied to something large, hard and cold. He peered over his shoulder and saw it was a big stone angel. He did wonder for a moment why someone would affix him to an angel, but decided it wasn't as important as finding out what was happening. He wanted to know who kidnapped him and why. That way he could make sure he paid back the correct people. Wouldn't want to kill an innocent.
He looked around and saw that he was in a graveyard. More tombstones were scattered around, many with the faded name of Riddle. He could tell it was later in the day, since the trees were dark and foreboding. They cast creepy shadows on the scene in front of him, making it look like something out of a black and white horror movie. He was just waiting for the evil villain with the handlebar mustache. What he got was a short-hooded man. He was a bit disappointed.
Harry glanced over the scene more, taking in the fact that the October wind was blowing, causing the shadows to crawl on the ground to where the main action was taking place. In the middle of the graves —and wasn't it weird that they formed a circle— sitting on a fire, was a large black cauldron. Inside the big pot was a bubbling, dark green potion. Steam was rising from the lip and billowing over and down. Making the ground look like it was covered in an eerie fog. All the scene needed was a couple of hags, stirring the brew and cackling. Again, our hero was disappointed that all he got was an unknown male wizard. Not that he wanted hags, but some hot babes would have been nice.
"Hey! You! Hooded guy! Who the fuck are you? And why the bloody hell did you bring me here? I'm not into this kinky shite. I mean really, bondage? Aren't I a little young for that? How about you untie me, and I'll be on my way," Harry called, watching the man warily as he looked over the scene trying to figure out what to do. Should he stay or go. Both had their benefits.
He tried to poof to the other side of the graveyard, so he could watch and see what was up, but the ropes seemed to be inhibiting that ability. He had a fleeting thought of taking the statue with him but decided that that would give away his hiding spot. He looked at the ground and tried to lift a rock with just a thought. Upon seeing that worked, he was relieved. It meant that he could still move shite with his mind. That'll come in handy. He knew he could leave at any time, just think the ropes away and turn into a bird. However, where was the fun in that?
While Harry watched, the short, hooded man raised a knife and cut off his hand. He then let it drop into the cauldron. The teen cringed at that, he was sure that the whole hand wasn't needed. If it was then this must be a slightly Dark ritual. Only those required such a sacrifice, the Darker the rituals got the more you had to give, until it was your life. Which made doing such magic redundant, unless it was to get revenge. Even then you weren't around to see it.
The amnesiac had done some research in the Restricted Section when they told him the Dork Lord could come back. He wanted to make sure that he knew the ways how, so he could prevent it. And while he didn't recognize this particular ceremony, he could tell that it was not something he wanted the other man to finish. He crew was frantically going over ways to stop this from being completed. It was Spock's simple logic that saw the solution.
"Flesh of the servant willingly given; you will raise your master," the creepy sounding man stated, jolting Harry from his thoughts. The now one-handed man turned and started coming towards the bound boy. A golden shield flared, keeping the man with the knife far away from the tied-up youth.
Those words proved that Harry was correct; the man was trying to resurrect someone, and the teen wizard was having none of it. So, with his mind he started levitating things into the potion. Grass, rocks, pieces of tombstones, and dirt flew from everywhere and landed in the cauldron. There were loud hissing noises when he added the consecrated dirt from the graves, proving that this was indeed a Dark ritual.
The potion started sputtering and the cauldron was shaking on its tiny legs. The toxic concoction was now bubbling over with black smoke and green sparks. Harry continued to gleefully add things, making whatever had been brewing, utterly ruined.
The fire under it flared, lighting up the entire graveyard. A large explosion came from the liquid inside. It sprayed the weapon wielding man in the back, causing him even more pain, and making him turn.
"No! This is not possible! Master!?" the still unknown man cried as he rushed to save the potion, dropping the knife as he went. He put his good hand in front of his face to ward off the sparks and the flying liquid. Not that it did any good, his robes now sported holes where the fluid landed. And his face was covered with red marks.
A high-pitched scream came from the bubbling mixture, and then it stopped. Harry hoped that whatever had been in there died.
When all the hissing died down, the now scarred man peeked over the lip of the pot. "Master, tell me what to do," he begged, vainly trying to see in the black murk that used to be a well-made green potion. He was sure nothing could save it now.
A small head broke the surface and gasped for air. "Fool, tip over the cauldron," came the gargled voice from that black doll-sized head.
So, the injured man, used his good hand, put his back into it, and tilted it over. He then hurriedly stepped back, not wanting to get the acid like goo on him.
Black muck poured out, making the ground billow with steam as the dirt form into boiling mud. It came to the ritual blade and melted the metal, leaving nothing for Harry to gather. Which was a shame, he was sure Bones would want it, if only to find out who this man was.
After the potion was finally spilled, out came the most disgusting thing Harry had ever seen. It was small, naked, and its pink skin was now covered in puss-draining sores. There were also large red spots that looked like it had, well, taken a bath in acid. The skin pulled back tight, like it had been shrunken, and now was taunt against the bones and muscles of the toddler like body. It was a very ugly thing to look at. You could tell it was in pain, by the grimace on its unpleasant face, but it seemed to be holding it in. Probably so it wouldn't look weak.
The hooded man quickly ran forward and snatched the baby-sized thing out of the steaming sludge. He scurried back and peered down on his master. Seeing it still covered in goo, he cast an Aguamenti from his wand and washed the thing off. Slowly the sludge cleared, and the creature now looked like a scabbed, deformed human toddler with a gruesomely distorted face.
Harry kinda liked it better when it was covered in muck.
"Cover me, you fool," the tiny being demanded in a tinny voice as it tried and failed to glare at its servant.
"Yes, Master," came the weak reply. Still carrying the creepy thing, the hooded man wandered to where a cloak laid folded on the ground. Awkwardly he wrapped the… creature up. When he was sure it was covered, he turned to face Harry.
"Harry Potter," said the raspy voice of the baby-like thing. "Look at what you have done. Mark my word, boy, you will pay for this. I will come back, and nothing you do will stop me, foolish child. You may have won this round, but I will win in the end. I am immortal, you are not. Thus, making me far more patient than you ever will be."
"Right..." drawled Harry, still tied to the headstone, yet completely relaxed, as if he weren't facing one of the most feared wizards of the age. "Who are you then?" he asked, quirking his head to the side.
"Ah yes, I had heard rumor that you have amnesia. Very well then, I am Lord Voldemort," the thing said as importantly as something that was being carried could, which to tell the truth wasn't very. The tinny voice, the small body, and the fact that it was covered in boils and huge red spots, made it appear like an ill child playing dress up.
"Right," came another drawl. "Are you sure? You're much smaller than I thought you'd be," Harry asked, kindly, squinting his eyes to see if he could see the all-powerful Voldemort. When he couldn't, he just shook his head, and smirked. "Sorry, I just don't see it," he added cheerfully.
"Stop your cheek, boy. I will make sure you suffer for that. No matter how much time passes, I will win," it said, and then turned its head and looked at the still hooded man. "Wormtail," it stated, making Harry's head snap to the other man as he recognized the name, "stand still while I get Nagini. Once she is secure we are leaving." Then it started making hissing noises, which Harry knew was parseltongue, but for some reason he couldn't understand it. That was something he was definitely going to have to research.
"Yes, Master," came the weak reply. What little skin that was peeking out of the robes of the short man was bone-pale. He was swaying in place, like a drunk, barely holding on to his master.
Harry could tell by the blood on the sleeve of his robes that the man was bleeding, though as not much as the teen thought he should be. He must have used a hot knife to cut his hand off. Still there was blood, making the boy tied to the headstone think that this Wormtail was losing too much of it.
'Good, let the bastard die,' the tied-up teen thought. 'I hope he slowly bleeds to death, while his 'Master' can do nothing. That would just the right punishment for him. If he does miraculously recover, well then I'll think of something else.'
The dark-haired young man felt a small smirk play across his face at that thought. He knew, from what he heard, that his old self would have felt bad knowing that this man could bleed to death, but this new him just wanted to watch the man slowly fade away. From what he had been told it was this man, and that thing he was carrying, who made him an orphan. No, he had not pity for either one.
"Hey, you guys aren't leaving, are ya?" Harry asked, like the two were simply going home from a party. "I mean, you're not going to leave me tied up in a graveyard, are ya?"
"I am sure someone will be looking for you shortly. Though, the thought of you starving to death gives me great pleasure. I do hate to cut our visit short, but as you can see I have matters to attend. Next time we meet, Harry Potter, I will have my vengeance," the small homunculus stated as fact. Then once more called his snake.
"Right, like I'm going to just stand by and wait for you to kill me. Tell you what, next time we meet, let's do tea. I'm sure there are many things you can tell me. Of course, you'd have to hide your face. There's no way I could stomach looking at you and eating," the teen said casually. "And hey, if he survives you can bring your minion as well. I would love to talk to him."
While he teased the greatest Dark Lord of the times, he was thinking about just ending this now, but with the horcruxes out there it would be a waste of energy. Not to mention it would show his hand. He had been very lucky that neither… man had seen him do any magic. One was in the cauldron, while the other had been facing him. Harry looked at the minion and saw that that man wasn't going to be a problem soon, so there was no sense in him giving up the game yet.
Suddenly a bush rustled, and a large snake came from the woods. It slithered around Harry's dome and quickly went to the two standing in the middle of the graveyard. It was as if it knew that there was something deadlier than it, and it wanted to leave now. It rapidly wrapped itself around the dying man. When it got up to his chest, Wormtail said, "Sanctuary," and they were gone.
Harry huffed. Now, Wormtail might die where he couldn't watch. Bummer. Still it was a pleasant thought, his demise.
Looking at the ropes, he used his mind to unravel the knots, and in a few short seconds they fell to the ground. He jumped off the headstone, and poofed back to the Shrieking Shack, making a very worried group of people startle.
They all drew their wands but made happy noises when they saw who it was. He was hit with two females who were both talking a mile a minute. The men were clapping him of the back. He gave everyone a reassuring smile and just basked in the love.
Harry never saw the shadow that watched from the trees that surrounded the graveyard.
That was okay though, he was home.