l? Any wizard who had hated me ... as so many of
them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful
than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potters blood. I wanted the
blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago . . . for the
lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too. .
"But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even
he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him
to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the
boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him
there. . . . Then, of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup. ... I thought his
protection might be weaker there, away from his relations and Dumbledore, but I
was not yet strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of a horde of Ministry
wizards. And then, the boy would return to Hogwarts, where he is under the
crooked nose of that Muggle-loving fool from morning until night. So how could I
take him?
"Why ... by using Bertha Jorkins's information, of course. Use my one faithful
Death Eater, stationed at Hogwarts, to ensure that the boy's name was entered into
the Goblet of Fire. Use my Death Eater to ensure that the boy won the tournament
- that he touched the Triwizard Cup first - the cup which my Death Eater had
turned into a Portkey, which would bring him here, beyond the reach of
Dumbledore's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here he is ... the
boy you all believed had been my downfall. ..."
Voldemort moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand.
"Crucio!"
It was pain beyond anything Harry had ever experienced; his very bones were on
fire; his head was surely splitting along his scar; his eyes were rolling madly in his
head; he wanted it to end ... to black out... to die ...
And then it was gone. He was hanging limply in the ropes binding him to the
headstone of Voldemort's father, looking up into those bright red eyes through a
kind of mist. The night was ringing with the sound of the Death Eaters' laughter.
"You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could ever have been
stronger than me," said Voldemort. "But I want there to be no mistake in
anybody's mind. Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going
to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all, when there is
no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him. I will give him his
chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is
the stronger. Just a little longer, Nagini," he whispered, and the snake glided away
through the grass to where the Death Eaters stood watching.
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"Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."
426
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR - PRIORI INCANTATEM
Wormtail approached Harry, who scrambled to find his feet, to support his own
weight before the ropes were untied. Wormtail raised his new silver hand, pulled
out the wad of material gagging Harry, and then, with one swipe, cut through the
bonds tying Harry to the gravestone.
There was a split second, perhaps, when Harry might have considered running for
it, but his injured leg shook under him as he stood on the overgrown grave, as the
Death Eaters closed ranks, forming a tighter circle around him and Voldemort, so
that the gaps where the missing Death Eaters should have stood were filled.
Wormtail walked out of the circle to the place where Cedric's body lay and
returned with Harry's wand, which he thrust roughly into Harry's hand without
looking at him. Then Wormtail resumed his place in the circle of watching Death
Eaters.
"You have been taught how to duel. Harry Potter?" said Voldemort softly, his red
eyes glinting through the darkness.
At these words Harry remembered, as though from a former life, the dueling club
at Hogwarts he had attended briefly two years ago. ... All he had learned there was
the Disarming Spell, "Expelliarmus". . . and what use would it be to deprive
Voldemort of his wand, even if he could, when he was surrounded by Death
Eaters, outnumbered by at least thirty to one? He had never learned anything that
could possibly fit him for this. He knew he was facing the thing against which
Moody had always warned . . . the unblockable Avada Kedavra curse - and
Voldemort was right - his mother was not here to die for him this time. ... He was
quite unprotected. . . .
"We bow to each other. Harry," said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his
snakelike face upturned to Harry. "Come, the niceties must be observed. . . .
Dumbledore would like you to show manners. . . . Bow to death, Harry. ..."
The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemorts lipless mouth was smiling.
Harry did not bow. He was not going to let Voldemort play with him before killing
him ... he was not going to give him that satisfaction. . . .
"I said, bow," Voldemort said, raising his wand - and Harry felt his spine curve as
though a huge, invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward, and the Death
Eaters laughed harder than ever.
"Very good," said Voldemort softly, and as he raised his wand the pressure
bearing down upon Harry lifted too. "And now you face me, like a man . . .
straight-backed and proud, the way your father died. . . .
"And now - we duel."
427
Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could do anything to defend himself,
before he could even move, he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The
pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he was. . . .
White-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going
to burst with pain, he was screaming more loudly than he'd ever screamed in his
life -
And then it stopped. Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet; he was shaking
as uncontrollably as Wormtail had done when his hand had been cut off; he
staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters, and they pushed him
away, back toward Voldemort.
"A little break," said Voldemort, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement, "a
little pause . . . That hurt, didn't it. Harry? You don't want me to do that again, do
you?"
Harry didn't answer. He was going to die like Cedric, those pitiless red eyes were
telling him so ... he was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it...
but he wasn't going to play along. He wasn't going to obey Voldemort... he wasn't
going to beg. . . .
"I asked you whether you want me to do that again," said Voldemort softly.
"Answer me! Imperial"
And Harry felt, for the third time in his life, the sensation that his mind had been
wiped of all thought. . . . Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as though he were
floating, dreaming ...just answer no ... say no ... just answer no. .. .
I will not, said a stronger voice, in the back of his head, I won't answer. . . .
Just answer no. . . .
I won't do it, I won't say it. ...
Just answer no. . . .
"I WON'T!"
And these words burst from Harry's mouth; they echoed through the graveyard,
and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown
over him - back rushed the aches that the Cruciatus Curse had left all over his
body - back rushed the realization of where he was, and what he was facing. . . .
"You won't?" said Voldemort quietly, and the Death Eaters were not laughing
now. "You won't say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before
you die. . . . Perhaps another little dose of pain?"
Voldemort raised his wand, but this time Harry was ready; with the reflexes born
of his Quidditch training, he flung himself sideways onto the ground; he rolled
behind the marble headstone of Voldemort s father, and he heard it crack as the
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curse missed him.
"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry," said Voldemort's soft, cold voice,
drawing nearer, as the Death Eaters laughed. "You cannot hide from me. Does this
mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish
it now, Harry? Come out, Harry . . . come out and play, then ... it will be quick ... it
might even be painless ... I would not know... I have never died. . . ."
Harry crouched behind the headstone and knew the end had come. There was no
hope ... no help to be had. And as he heard Voldemort draw nearer still, he knew
one thing only, and it was beyond fear or reason: He was not going to die
crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek; he was not going to die
kneeling at Voldemort s feet... he was going to die upright like his father, and he
was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defense was possible. . . .
Before Voldemort could stick his snakelike face around the headstone. Harry
stood up ... he gripped his wand tightly in his hand, thrust it out in front of him,
and threw himself around the headstone, facing Voldemort.
Voldemort was ready. As Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Voldemort cried,
"Avada Kedavra!"
A jet of green light issued from Voldemorts wand just as a jet of red light blasted
from Harry's - they met in midair - and suddenly Harry's wand was vibrating as
though an electric charge were surging through it; his hand seized up around it; he
couldn't have released it if he'd wanted to - and a narrow beam of light connected
the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold. Harry, following the
beam with his astonished gaze, saw that Voldemort's long white fingers too were
gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating.
And then - nothing could have prepared Harry for this - he felt his feet lift from
the ground. He and Voldemort were both being raised into the air, their wands still
connected by that thread of shimmering golden light. They glided away from the
tombstone of Voldemort's father and then came to rest on a 