Marauders' Godson Book 4: The Goblet of Fire

Chapter Thirty-Six

Finally, we get to the big secret!

The four of them crashed to the ground, and Edward just barely managed to keep himself and Harry standing. Harry let out a yelp of pain, and Gabriel hissed behind them.

They were in a darkened, misty graveyard, and everything was silent except for a small breeze. Edward gently lowered Harry to the ground and pulled out his wand, eyes darting around.

"Where are we?" Harry whispered.

"... still in England," Edward responded quietly.

"How-" Cedric began.

"Shh." Edward glanced at him. "All of those names are British." He gestured to the graves.

"Did anyone tell you the Cup was a Portkey?" Gabriel growled quietly, clearly angry.

"No," Edward responded darkly. "This was a trap. Wands out."

At that moment, Harry let out a yell of pain and collapsed, clutching his scar. Cedric and Gabriel instantly crouched beside him, demanding if he was okay, but Edward's eyes were focused on the approaching figure.

He was small and fat, cloaked, and carrying a small bundle. He was gasping for breath as he approached them. He stopped in front of the four students, panting.

And then, Edward heard a high, cold voice, coming from the bundle. "Kill the spares."

"Avada Kedavra!" the short figure squeaked in a familiar voice, and a jet of green light narrowly avoided Edward, striking Gabriel in the chest. She collapsed, eyes blank.

"Cedric, Apparate back to the school and tell Dumbledore-" Edward yelped, but Cedric was already pulling out his wand.

"Obliviate!" Wormtail wheezed, just as Cedric disappeared from view.

Edward winced. Cedric was in for some painful splinching -- but at least he would get back all right.

Quickly, he moved between Pettigrew and his brother. "One step closer..." he hissed warningly, in an icy, slow voice that made the rat shake.

"Ah... Edward Potter..." the high, cold voice said in faint amusement. "Or should I say... Edward Riddle."

Edward froze. Images of his list flew through his mind.

Voldemort, or child of Voldemort:

-Dark wizard.

-Is a Parslemouth.

-Might have wanted an heir.

-Many similarities with our behavior.

-Look very similar; he has black hair, but all other facial attributes match mine

-Same intelligence and flattery

Then, he saw the Mirror of Erised again...

...screaming people...

...his red eyes, his sneer of delight....

"Expelliarmus!"

A squeaky voice interrupted his thoughts, and his wand flew out of his hand. Edward barely reacted, other than to fall to his knees, still in shock. Another wave of Wormtail's wand, and he was immobile.

In a daze, Edward watched as Wormtail put down the bundle and dragged Harry to his feet. Pettigrew pulled Harry over to a tall grave -- which read Tom Riddle -- and magically bound Edward's half-brother to the slab of stone with thick, tight cords. After checking the tightness of the ropes, the small man gagged Harry and disappeared from view.

He came staggering back with a huge black cauldron which, judging by the sloshing sound, was full of water. Wormtail placed it at the foot of Riddle's tombstone and lit a fire beneath it.

"Hurry!" Voldemort's voice spoke again, restless and impatient.

After a pause, in which Edward heard Wormtail stoking the fire, the man said shakily, "It is ready, Master."

"Now..."

Wormtail unravelled the blanket, revealing an extremely ugly homunculus. Edward recoiled, almost shocked out of his... well, shock... at the disgusting humanoid.

Pettigrew picked Voldemort up and dropped him into the cauldron. Edward felt a sinking feeling.

The blood, bone, and flesh ritual....

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" Wormtail said shakily. The grave cracked open, and a trickle of dust rose into the air, dropping into the cauldron.

It was supposed to be a bone, not the dust of a bone, the rational part Edward -- which was very small at the moment -- thought. Already the idiot's messed it up.

The numb part of Edward was thinking rather distantly, That was the bone of my grandfather.

"Flesh -- of the servant-" Wormtail gasped, sobbing now, "willingly given -- you will -- revive -- your master."

And he's stuttered, Edward thought. Now he'll have snake eyes and nose. Idiot.

There was a rather nauseating, squishy noise, then a plop, as Wormtail cut off his own hand and put it into the potion.

Wormtail screamed in pain, and Edward flinched. After a long pause, Pettigrew approached Harry, panting.

WHAT! NO! NOT HARRY!

"B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken," Wormtail sobbed, "you will... resurrect your foe." He sliced downward on Harry's arm, and Harry yelped. Edward flinched again.

Wormtail put the final ingredient into the cauldron and collapsed beside it, shaking and wailing. There was a long silence, broken only by Wormtail's irritating sniveling and the bubbling of the potion, and then white steam exploded from the cauldron, filling the cemetery and making it nearly impossible to see.

A dark outline of a tall man appeared. "Robe me," came the voice of Lord Voldemort. Wormtail picked up the bundle of robes from the ground and dressed his master with one hand. 

As Edward had predicted, instead of having his previous looks, Voldemort now had a snake-like nose and slitted, scarlet eyes. He was also incredibly pale, even paler than Edward was.

Voldemort stepped out of the cauldron, admiring himself. Then he strode over to Edward, smiling darkly.

"Hello, son," he sneered.