Elysia Dumbledore [A Harry Potter Fan Fiction]

Chapter Seventeen ~ Pack Your Things

I watched in utter repulsion as Wormtail dropped Voldemort in to the massive cauldron. I hadn't even paused to suspect why we hadn't been reprimanded and drained of some blood for our Father's rise. My hand instinctively clung to Viperous's, making sure that she was still beside me.

Wormtail's eyes closed, and words flowed out of his mouth as he raised his wand,

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

Out of Voldemort's apparent fathers grave seeped a slow trickle of dust, obviously the bones of his long-dead father. Pettigrew then drew a long, threatening dagger from his robes and raised in the air, hovering above the wrist of his mangled hand..

"F-flesh of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - receive - your master..." he stammered, averting his gaze far away from the act he was about to commit

The deathly 'thud' that proceeded was far outweighed by the piercing scream from the throat of Voldemort's loyal servant. I gazed over to Viperous, who seemed very much conscious now. Her face showed a very different emotion than mine, which showed my sheer disgust, her face shone with what seemed to be... happiness?

"He deserved it..." she hissed, closing her eyes and smiling softly.

My gaze was broken by the distraction made by the splash that Pettigrew's hand made when added to the potion. Harry's breathing was audible even from here, as well as with the gag softening the noise of it, he was clearly terrified.

My eyes widened as Wormtail edged closer to Harry, ignoring the heavy flow of blood flowing like a crimson fountain out of his forearm. Harry's eyes were so tightly closed that he didn't see what was coming when Wormtail sliced the crook of his elbow, and watched gleefully as the blood dripped down his robes.

"B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will.. resurrect... your foe..." he stammered, reaching in to his cloak.

Outstretching a glass vial, he captured but a few droplets and turned to add them to the potion. Viperous's eyes were wide with a curiously scared purple. I watched her shift in her position, until she finally lifted her body in to an upright position.

I watched her step over Cedric, and felt the tears run down my face as I took a good look at the boy that I had danced with on the night of the Yule Ball... The man who pointed my gaze to Neville, the friend who had spoken to me when others wouldn't.

Cedric Diggory.

My gaze followed my sister, my friend, as she shuffled closer to Pettigrew and the potion. She snatched the knife from Peter's frightened hands and keeled over the edge of the cauldron. Slicing deep into the palm of her hand, she allowed a single drop of her blood to enter the potion.

"Cursed blood of the daughter... Promising a death ensured by the girl lost to prophecy... You will aid the fall of your father!" she bellowed, the words essentially finishing the potion.

I smiled at Viperous's genius. She had just ensured that she would play a part in the fall of Voldemort, even if she was 'lost to the prophecy'. This could be the most essential move in the entire war... this could mean the end of the war in good time.

And in a shocking sight, the sparks that the spitting cauldron was emitting ended. They were soon replaced with a thick, white smoke that clouded Viperous's vision as well as Harry's. Clutching the cold tomb, I heaved myself to stand upright, though I couldn't see anything.

Taking a step forward, I leaned over Cedric and planted a soft kiss on his forehead, before stepping over his corpse to enter the scene in front of me. The closer I got, the clearer the outline of a man became, shocking me to my core.