Disclaimer: I do not own anything and all rights go to JK!
A plot-hole-pointing-out Harry visits the graveyard and Voldemort has issues with planning evil schemes.
"Why are you calling Pettigrew by his nickname?" Harry asked the Dark Lord. He had enough information by now to realise that the man who tried to kill him very year was making another attempt – and right on time! "I mean, I know who he is. It's really obvious. So why are you acting like you have to conceal his identity? He's not even wearing a mask!"
"I-" Wormtail began to speak, but Harry didn't let him finish.
"-Are you calling him by his old school nickname for fun? Just call him by his name! Do all of your death eaters have code names or something?"
"Lucius, why did you not attempt to seek out your master? The Lestranges-"
"And why are you naming your death eaters? Aren't their identities supposed to be top secret? Isn't there some kind of 'each death eater only knows one other death eater' thing? I mean, that's why they weren't all rounded up after the first war, isn't it? Now, if one person squeals – and I doubt these cowardly little worms' ability to keep a secret, if it means they can save their own necks – then you'll have literally no followers. Also, let's face statistics; it's highly likely that I'm going to get out of here, and now I know the identity of each and every one your death eaters!"
"But that's the point Potter- you won't escape this time!"
"Yeah, I will." Harry said, disparagingly.
"No you wo-"
"Actually, now I think about it – why wasn't I here sooner?" Harry gestured to his surroundings.
"What do you mean, Potter? This was the soonest I could get you here and still enact my GENIUS evil plan for my resurec-"
"Yeeeahhhh…" Harry rolled his eyes and tilted his head to one side. "But it wasn't."
"Explain." Voldemort demanded, looking rather put-out.
"Well, in order to bewitch the Triwizard cup, you had to have a secret agent in a figure of authority, probably Moody if you look at my track record for DADA teachers. Meaning there was no need for this elaborate plot, or the millions of holes in your apparent plan to bring me here, where it could have all gone pear-shaped."
"What holes?" Voldemort shrieked. "My plan was fool-proof!"
"Your whole plan depended on a fourteen year old boy being able to get past challenges that caused even legal adults to struggle! Even if I do 'supposedly' have a lot of power for my age, that's not a very secure plot! Couldn't your agent just have knocked me out at any point and brought me to you? Just a simply stupefy and a short walk to outside the wards and – bam! – you've got me!"
"You didn't even need to have an inside man! All Wormtail needed to do was use his animagus form to sneak inside the school and kidnap me! This could all have been over on the first night of school."
The pale face of Lord Voldemort was steadily turning a lovely shade of crimson.
"And that's not even the first place where your plan's a little shaky. I mean, this whole charade depends a lot upon the phrase 'unwillingly given'. If I had just said, 'Here, have some blood!' you would've been so screwed. Also-"
"Potter! Just go!"
"Take the portkey and just leave!"
"Please!" Voldemort had his eyes closed and Harry could have sworn he was about to cry. The Boy-Who-Lived-To-Frustrate-The-Dark-Lord shrugged helplessly and walked over to the abandoned cup. Harry glanced over to check if the Dark Lord had changed his mind, but Voldemort just shook his head and gestured for him to leave. Harry Potter picked up the cup and, when he felt the familiar jerking on his naval, he waving at Voldemort and called out, "See you next June! I mean you're so predictable-"
Voldemort's scream of frustration was the last thing Harry heard before he arrived at the beginning of the maze.
"Why have I appeared here?"