Harry Potter and the Re-Discovery of Magic

1: A Dramatic Resurrection for a Dramatic Dark Lord

AN: Hi, just making a full warning for this story that this does contain a bit of torture and murder, and any abuse Harry endures is taken care of by Tom or himself. 

Disclaimer that I'm just borrowing JKR's characters and world, and also adding a few things along the way. (You won't believe the amount of research I've done for some things in this). 

Enjoy!

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"Stupefy"

A ball of red light surrounded Cedric Diggory, and the next second the boy slumped to the ground, the Triwizard cup slipping out of his hands and rolling a few feet away from his loosely closed hand as his body was placed under a tight 'pretificus totalus.'

A few meters away Harry Potter was on his knees, trousers getting soaked by the dew of the grass below him, hands tightly clasped to his forehead, blood dripping from his scar and through his fingers. Through the pain that was thrumming through his scar, Harry was able to glance to his right to see the stilled face of his fellow Triwizard champion and then, through his cracked glasses, to the short and stout man that stood before him, draped in a dark cloak, obscuring his face from view. Seeing the man moving in his direction, Harry moved his right hand to grab his wand that lay in the grass a few inches from his knees, yet he was not quick enough to react as he was with an 'expelliarmus' his wand came flying out of his dirt covered hand. With the figure now directly in front of him, Harry was pulled to his feet.

A wand pointed in the centre of his chest shot him backwards and Harry was slammed backwards into a marble gravestone, only managing to gain a glimpse of the name 'Tom Riddle' before ropes shot out of the lightly coloured wand, coiling tighter and tighter around his body until Harry was sure that the circulation in most of his limbs were cut off. The figure, deeming the ropes as satisfactory for a seemingly defenceless wizard snatched his shaking wand back, the wand nearly faltering out of his grip in a hand that held a missing finger.

"Wormtail." Harry's voice was scratchy as he struggled against the ropes, recognising the wizard, if the snivelling man could be called as such, yet there was no indication from the man that Harry had been heard, instead quickly turning and shuffling away around a row of gravestones, leaving Harry and a stupefied Cedric alone in the middle of a cemetery.

A flurry of movement caught Harry's eyes, just below his feet, where a large snake could be seen slinking through the long grass and had begun to climb around against the numerous gravestones that had gone untended over the years. Harry snapped out of his reverie by the sound of movement coming towards him, watching as Wormtail reappeared, pushing an overly large cauldron. Harry briefly wondered why Wormtail didn't use a simple levitation charm, but was quickly distracted by the sight of a bundle of robes that had been picked up, and though unable to see in the low lighting of the evening, Harry knew what was being contained in the bundle of fabric, indicated by the dull throbbing of pain in his scar exponentially increasing until Harry had to containing a whimper of pain.

There was a crackle of flames that flickered steadily underneath the cauldron, while Wormtail tip-toed around it, sprinkling different materials into it, while simultaneously trying not to trip over the giant snake that lay between the flames and the mass of robes that seemed to shift every few seconds. Though far away from the cauldron, with the unnervingly still air of the graveyard, Harry could hear the steady simmering of the potion that later increased to a boil after finally giving up on struggling out of the bonds that had turned his legs numb.

The fire was then turned down so low that it almost flickered out and Harry watched as Wormtail rolled up the sleeves of his robes, and with shaking arms picked up the bundle off the floor, and at the same time the snake that lay previously dormant in the grass snapped its jaws threateningly. Wormtail jumped and just missed stepping on its tail causing the hood of the cloak that had previously covered his face to fall down and Harry could see that his wiry grey hair had patches missing and his face was screwed up in that infuriating pathetic expression that Harry despised. He was trembling as the bundle of robes shifted, enough to cause one of the layers to fall exposing a humanoid figure that would cause any wizard to throw up their previous meal. The small figure had skin thinner than parchment and was as white as the smoke that filled the glass orbs in Divination. It was wrinkled, like it had been placed in a bath for far too long, and was completely bald. The most captivating part of the figure was its ruby red eyes that seemed to glow even in the darkness of the night. Trying not to gag at the horrific sight, Harry averted his eyes from the figure, choosing to watch the potion that shone silver in the moonlight hissed and spitted, like a snake ready to attack when a high, cold voice pierced the air.