You know the drill, I don't own much. Characters you know and love are not mine. So don't sue me…. Please.

Sorry bout the wait, I couldn't get onto the Internet, Grr. Anyway this chappy be called, Traitors, Graveyards and Potions, I couldn't fit the whole name into the chapter title. Enjoy!

Chapter 14


A cloaked figure pointed his wand at his throat, and then made sure his hood was in place. Harry stood up from the ground and stared at him for a moment. The man pointed his wand at Harry, who was pushed back against a tree, dropping his wand, the roots then out of the ground, wrapping themselves tightly around Harry, binding his arms and legs to the tree. Harry watched the figure wait for a moment before he saw another cloaked figure approach them from the distance. Harry couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking, it was carrying something. Whoever they were, they were short, and wearing a hood covering their face like the other person. As the person grew closer, Harry saw that the thing it was carrying was a baby, or merely a bundle of Robes? The person stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only a few feet from him. Harry's scar exploded with pain, agony he had never felt in his life.

The short man in the cloak put down his bundle, lit his wand, undid Harry's bonds and dragged him to the headstone. Harry saw the name upon it before he was slammed head first into it.

Tom Riddle

The Taller hooded man conjured the roots again, which rapped themselves around him for the second time. Harry could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; he struggled against the roots and the man hit him – hit him with a hand that had a finger missing. And Harry realised who was under this hood. It was Wormtail.

"You!" Harry gasped.

Wormtail wasn't listening; he took a piece of black material from inside his robes and stuffed into Harry's mouth. The tall hooded figure laughed as he saw this. Harry couldn't make a sound nor could he see where Wormtail had gone, he couldn't turn his head to see past the headstone. Some way beyond him, glinting in the starlight, lay the Triwizard Cup. Harry's wand was on the ground by his feet. The bundle of robes that Harry had thought was baby, was so close by, at the foot of the grave. It seemed to be stirring fretfully. Harry watched it, and his scar seared with pain again. Harry felt something brush past his feet and looked down, and saw a gigantic snake, slithering through the grass, circling the headstone to which he was tied. The thing on the floor was stirring more persistently now, as though it was trying to free itself. Wormtail was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron trying to create a fire with a wand and failing everytime. The tall hooded figure sighed and flicked his wand, creating a fire at the bottom of the cauldron, singeing the back of Wormtail's robes. The large snake slithered away into the darkness.

"It is ready, master." Harry heard Wormtail say. He looked at the cauldron; it had already boiled and was creating fiery sparks and sending them out the cauldron.

Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them. The thing that had came out of the robes, looked as if it was only half created, unborn, and really ugly. But a hundred times worse. The thing had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly looking. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble and its face, it was flat and snake-like and gleaming red eyes.

The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms and placed them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail lifted it. He lowered the thing into the potion; there was a hiss and the body vanished below the surface. Harry heard the frail body hit the bottom of the cauldron with a soft thud.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" Wormtail walked over to the headstone, picked up a bone that was lying atop the headstone and dropped it into the cauldron. The other person just standing there, watching.

Wormtail started whimpering. He pulled a long thin silver dagger from inside his robes. His voice broke into petrified sobs. "Flesh - of the servant – w-w-willing g-given - you will –r-revive your master." He stretched out his right hand in front of him, the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it down. A scream filled the night as Wormtail's hand fell into the cauldron. Harry heard the sickening splash of the hand falling into the cauldron, not baring to look. The potion turned bright burning red; the light of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids.

Wormtail gasped and moaned in pain but he had to continue. He bent over to Harry and Harry felt the heavy breathing on his forehead. "Blood of the enemy – f-f-forcibly taken – you will – r-r-resurrect your foe." Harry could do nothing to prevent it; his roots had him tied too tight. He felt the silver dagger penetrate his skin and moaned a little as Wormtail dragged the dagger down his skin, letting the blood pour out. Wormtail took out a small vial and allowed the blood to flow into it, before pouring the contents into the potion as well. As soon as the blood touched the potion, it turned brilliant white. Wormtail's job was done, and he fell upon the floor nursing the stump that once was his hand.

The tall man brought out his own wand and made a little gash in his arm taking a vial from his own pocket, allowing his own blood to pour into it. He walked over to the cauldron. "Blood of the Son, generously giving, mix new blood with old, I shall resuscitate my father!"

Harry wasn't listening anymore for the pain that he was now suffering was unbearable. The potion had turned black and had started bubbling away in its cauldron. Let the thing have drowned, Harry thought, Let it have gone wrong Please. Suddenly a surge of black steam billowed thickly, oozing from the cauldron, obliterating everything from view. Harry tried to look through the sea of blackness, but could see nothing. The fog began to clear and Harry looked through again and this time saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rise slowly from the cauldron.

"My Robes." Said a high, cold voice from behind the fading fog. The hooded man waved his wand and the robes that Wormtail had brought floated up and pulled themselves over the figure stepping out of the cauldron. Harry stared at the thin skeletal man that had haunted his nightmares for years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes, and a nose that was as flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils.

Lord Voldemort had risen again.


Voldemort stepped out from the cauldron, examining his hands closely. Large, pale and spider like hands; his long wafer thin fingers caressing his chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cat's, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. Voldemort started flexing his finger, his expression engrossed by the happiness for his new body. He took no notice of the twitching screaming Wormtail, writhing about on the ground; nor the giant snake who had slithered back into view; nor the man who was standing back a little from Voldemort. Voldemort slipped his bony fingers into a deep pocket and withdrew a wand. He studied it for a moment before flicking it quickly, making Wormtail fly into the head stone where Harry was tied. Wormtail's robes were now stained with blood and Voldemort laughed; Wormtail had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.

"My L-lord," Wormtail choked, only just getting his words out. "My l-lord, y-you promised, you d-d-did promise."

"Bring me your arm, Wormtail." Voldemort said lazily.

"T-thank you master-" he extended his bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed.

"The other arm, Wormtail."

"M-m-master please, p-p-please!"

Voldemort sighed, bending over and pulling the robes off Wormtail's left arm. Harry saw something as the robes were ripped off, upon the skin there – a vivid red tattoo - a skull, with a snake protruding from its mouth – it was the same image Harry had seen at the Quidditch World Cup at the beginning of the year. The Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's cries.

"It is back." He said softly, pressing his long white finger to it, causing Harry's scar to burst into pain, as though it was going to rip open. Voldemort got up and turned to the hooded man. "They will have felt it. And now, we shall see who is brave enough to return and who is foolish enough to stay away." Voldemort walked up to the hooded man and looked at him. "Show me your face. I hadn't the chance to see it properly before."

The man lowered his face and Harry was filled with an emotion he hadn't felt for ages. Treachery. Harry shook his head, not wanting to believe that he was there. Why, Will, why? Thought Harry. He felt as though the Will he thought he knew was dead.

"Father." He said, kneeling down at Voldemort's feet. "I'm glad that you have returned to u-"

"Get up, you do not need to bow like the others. They do it out of fear; you do it out of respect. But you are my son. That means something." These words came out with pride. "Put you hood back, they are arriving. Go to the manor. I do not want my men to be jealous of you. You may watch from there."

Will nodded, put his hood back over his head and started to run to the manor, just as the air filled with the swishing of cloaks, not unlike Will's, and skeletal masks. Voldemort stood in silence wait for them to come forward. One of the Death Eaters suddenly fell to his knees, crawled towards Voldemort and kissed the hems of his robes. The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each in turn approaching Voldemort, kissing the hems of his robes, and backing away before standing up. The Death Eaters formed a circle around Harry, Voldemort and Tom Riddle's headstone, as well as the sobbing twitching heap that was Wormtail. Voldemort looked around the circle, noticing the spaces.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," Voldemort said at last. "Thirteen years, it been, Thirteen years and you still answer my call as though it were yesterday. Still untied under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"

Voldemort through his head back into the air, his nostrils flaring. "I smell guilt!" he said after a moment's silence. "The stench of guilt pollutes the air. It's disgusting."

A shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare, to step back and run away from him. But knew it would be the stupidest thing ever. "I see you all, whole and healthy, your powers intact, such prompt appearances! And yet, I ask myself, why did this troupe of wizards never come to the aid of their mater, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved, except Wormtail, who was trying to tie shreds of his robes around his wound to stop it bleeding.

"Nobody? Oh well, I shall answer this myself. You thought me broken and gone! You believed that I, Lord Voldemort, would not rise again. The one, who has taken the most steps to immortality than any other wizard, would never return. You slipped back among my enemies; you pleaded innocence, ignorance and bewitchment. Perhaps you believed there a still-greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort. Perhaps you now pay allegiance to another, perhaps that champion of commoners, of mudbloods and muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore, the Death Eaters encircling Voldemort shook their heads in disagreement. They would never tell their master about switching sides after thinking he was finished. He would kill them if he knew. And yet, somehow, they knew he knew. They knew that he knew and yet they were still denying it, for fear of punishment. Suddenly, one of the hooded figures flung himself onto the floor.

"Master, I'm sorry, we're all sorry. We didn't know, we didn't know!" he wailed, kissing Voldemort's robes.

Voldemort glared at the man wailing on the floor. "Get up, Nott." Voldemort growled. The man, Nott, crawled back from his master and back into line before standing up again. "You will get your punishment. You all will get the punishment you deserve for leaving me. But what do we have here? Eight missing Death Eaters… three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return… he will pay. One, who I believe, had left me for ever… he will be killed, of course… and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who had already re-entered my service. And of course, the Lestranges should be standing here, but they are entombed in Azkaban. They went to Azkaban, rather than renounce me. Azkaban shall be broken open and the Lestranges will be honoured beyond their dreams."


Will walked up the stairs in Riddle Manor to the attic. His father's soldiers were scared shitless of his father. But yet, his father thought that they would be jealous of him. One day, he would make his own army, and do what his father had never achieved yet. Make the world his own. But right not he would serve his father.

Will looked out over the graveyard seeing Harry tied up by the roots he had created and felt a bit sorry for him. It wasn't Harry's fault that Lyra left him. It was his own. And now, Harry was going to die. All because of him.

Will saw Harry's wand lying at his feet and, using his own magic strength and wand technique to make the bonds binding him to the headstone dig themselves back into the ground. Harry's wand was lifted into his hand and Harry looked up to the manor to see who had freed and armed him. He saw a dark figure in the attic of the Riddle manor look down at him. Harry stared into the fierce hazel eyes and realised that he had once again, gained Will's friendship. Will nodded at Harry, giving him a small, forced, smile, before turning away.

Using the knowledge and power he had received from Slytherin, Will picked up an old pull-a-long toy up from the floor and transfigured it into a Desert Eagle pistol and picked up a little model train, transfiguring it into a mobile (cell) phone. Taking the safety off, he walked over to the window, opening it a little and aimed at a bird in the tree opposite Harry, after cocking it and making sure it had ammo in. Will gently squeezed the trigger and shot the bird. The bird dropped down from the tree, landing on top of the crying Wormtail, who immediately threw it off, not wanting the dead bird's blood to mix with his own.

Will stepped back in the shadows as the Death Eaters looked around to see what had done this. He picked up the phone and dialled for the police.

"What is the emergency?" asked the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Police please, I've just heard gunshots coming from Riddle Manor and my name is Will, I've come here to visit some friends." Will knew what he had to say, since he once seen someone break into the house across the street from him.

"We'll send someone over. Thank you." He put down the phone and watched from the window what was happening.

"Your sending muggle Aurors to get your father?" asked Slytherin.

"Yes." Will answered simply, not taking his eyes off the scene that was unfolding before him. The Death Eaters had stopped searching, obviously on Voldemort's orders. Wormtail had got up from the floor and was examining his hand. For some reason, it looked like he had a silver gauntlet on.

"Oh, ok." Laughter echoed through Will's head. Will knew that the police wouldn't come. They wouldn't normally come unless it was a real emergency like someone had died. Hunting was probably done a lot around here and a friend visiting wouldn't know. Plus he didn't give his full name.

Will broke the phone in half and transfigured the first half into a shoulder holster, strapping it around himself and placing the Desert Eagle into it. He then transfigured the second half into an ammo magazine. He put it in his pocket and looked back out the window. Voldemort had finally remembered that Harry was there. Harry stood up, facing Voldemort.

"You have been taught how to duel?" asked Voldemort softly, his red eyes boring into Harry's emerald green eyes through the darkness.

Harry remembered the duelling club Hogwarts had in his second year. It sucked but at least it taught him a good duelling spell. 'Expelliarmus' – the disarming spell.

"We bow to each other, Harry," said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snake-like face upturned to Harry. The Death Eaters started laughing and pointing at Harry. "Come now, Harry. Dumbledore would want you to show some manners. Bow to death, Harry."

Voldemort's lip-less mouth was smiling and the Death Eaters around him jumped up and down with glee at the sight of their Master about to kill the person who had destroyed their master, years before. Harry did not bow. He was not going to let Voldemort play with him before he killed him. He was not going to give him the satisfaction.

"I said, bow!" Voldemort raised his wand and brought it down, making Harry bend over, as though a huge invisible hand was moulding Harry's back into shape.

The Death Eaters laughed even harder and Voldemort lifted his wand. Harry straightened himself out.

"Very good, and now you face me like a man. Straight backed and proud… the way your father died… And now - we duel."

Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could react, the Cruciatus Curse washed over him. The electric blue light encased him, sparks of energy flying everywhere. The pain was so intense, that Harry no longer knew where he was. It felt as if white-hot knives pierce every inch of his flesh. He screamed louder than he had every 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 he cut his hand off. He staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters and they pushed him away, back towards Voldemort.

"Hurt, didn't it, Harry? Perhaps a little break?" the slit-like nostrils flaring with excitement. "You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

Harry knew what he was trying to do. He could see it in those pitiless red eyes. Harry wasn't going to play along. He wasn't going to give in.

"I asked you whether you wanted to do that again?" Voldemort said softly. "Answer me! Imperio!"

Harry felt as if his mind had been wiped of all thought…. Bliss. Not having to think, it was if he was floating, dreaming… A voice popped into his head. Just answer 'No'… say 'No'… just answer 'No'…

A stronger voice in his head echoed through the nothingness that was, now, his head. I will not, I won't answer…

Just say 'No'…

I won't do it! I won't say it…

Just answer 'No'… The voice was now getting angry.


The words burst from Harry's mouth; they echoed through the graveyard and the Dream State was lifted as though cold water had been tipped onto a sleeping version of himself. Back rushed the aches and pains from which the Cruciatus curse had created for him. Back rushed the realisation of where he was and what he was facing…

"You wont?" Voldemort asked quietly, watching him, studying him. "You won't say 'no'? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die… Now, how about another dose of pain?"

Harry was ready this time. His Quidditch reflexes had trained him to be ready for anything. The Cruciatus curse was thrown towards him, and, visualising the electric blue curse as a bludger, he threw himself behind Tom Riddle Sr.'s gravestone.

Voldemort laughed, and his Death Eaters laughed behind him. Following his lead. "We're not playing hide-and-go-seek, Harry. Does this mean you're tired already of our little duel? Come, come now, Harry, you don't want to die now do you? Well, of course you would like to die. You want to see your parents again. Come out and play, Harry. It will be quick… it might even be painless… I would not know… I have never died… you don't want your parents to have died for nothing!"

All emotion left Harry except for one. Rage. Right now, he wanted to kill Voldemort. He wanted him to feel the most pain, anyone had ever cause him. He wanted him to suffer like he had. He wanted to avenge his parents. He was going to kill Voldemort.

Harry stood up from behind the gravestone of Voldemort's father, glaring at the older man. Harry's emerald eye's burned with rage, piercing into Voldemort's red ones. And for once, Harry saw a hint of fear in Voldemort's eyes.

"Ready?" asked Harry, feeling hungry for revenge.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort shouted, his wand pointed straight at Harry's heart.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry knew what he was going to do; he had to finish Voldemort off. He was the only one that could do it.


Will watched from above as the two spells collided into each other, merging together. He could see the two tones of the killing curse. Harry's, having never killed before, was a brilliant emerald green. Voldemort's was much darker. It was the same colour, but if you looked into it, you could see the experienced spell classing with a purer spell. Will was going to stand here and do nothing. He opened the window and jumped out, his wings unfolding through the black material.

Will levelled his altitude and hovered at he watched the point where two spells merged get pushed back and forth between Harry and Voldemort. Will wondered how this was possible. From all the information he had received from Slytherin, it wasn't possible for two spells to merge between the casters wands. Unless, Will searched his brain for knowledge. Nothing. He could find nothing.


Harry's wand began to shudder. Vibrating as though an electric charge was surging through it. His hand seized up around his wand… he couldn't have released it if he'd wanted to. The green beam of light, connecting Harry to Voldemort and vies versa, was now turning a dark red. The dark red started turning into a brilliant orange. Which then turned into a deep, but brilliantly bright, gold. The Death Eaters surrounding, and Will above were all mesmerised by the golden beam of light connecting the darkest wizard in a millennia, and the child who had defeated him thirteen years ago.

Harry's eyes followed the golden beam of light to Voldemort's own wand, his long white fingers having trouble holding onto his wand. Nothing could have prepared Harry for this – Harry felt his feet lift in to the air, their wands still connected by the thread of shimmering light. They were gliding further away from the tombstone of Voldemort's father, and to a clearing. No tombstone, trees, or bulging graves. The Death Eaters started shouting, asking Voldemort for commands, closing in around the two floating males, re-forming the circle a further away from before but more tight and closer together, leaving no gaps.


From above, Will could see the lustrous golden beam, connecting Voldemort and Harry, starting to splinter as the beams merge point moved closer to Harry or Voldemort. He could see the Death Eaters close in further like a pack of angry hyenas. The splinters of magic shot off, higher and higher, Will had to fly back to the Riddle Manor, so not to get seen. He turned back and saw that the offshoots were creating a dome-like cage around the two Wizards. Voldemort shouted something to the Death Eaters which Will couldn't here over the shouting of the Death Eaters.

And then an unearthly and beautiful and mesmerising sound filled the air… it was coming from the thread of light-web that was connecting Harry and Voldemort, vibrating around them… locking them inside.


The song filled the air around them and everyone was mesmerised by it, not wanting to stop listening. The song filled Harry with hope… no, it was the sound of hope… the most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his life… he felt like the song was inside him, not around him, but coming from his soul.

Don't break the connection.

I know, he told the voice that was speaking for the music, I know I mustn't. After Harry had thought it, his wand began vibrating more powerfully than before, like it was daring him… daring him to let go and see what happens.

The point of merge, started sliding again, but this time, when it got near Harry, he could hear the music change a little… it became a more sinister music… it was as if, Voldemort's music was now winning. Harry pushed with his wand. The merge point began to slide. The corrupt and sinister music began to change. Now it was Harry's turn. It was the music of his soul, cheering him on.

Harry grinned a darkly happy grin… he was going to do this; he was going to finish Voldemort, once and for all. He forced more magic energy into the connection, pushing the merge point to go closer to Voldemort. Harry closed his eyes, focusing all of his will power, magic power, and physical strength on moving the merge point away from himself. It seemed that the closer it came to one of them, the more the person's wand shook. The merge point moved slowly across the stream of light binding Harry's wand to Voldemort's. It started to pick up speed, as it made its way to Voldemort's wand. The song grew louder and more cheerful as the merge point came closer to Voldemort's wand… and then it connected. At once, Voldemort's wand began to vibrate violently, and he looked like he would love nothing more than to just break the connection between them.

But Voldemort didn't break the connection, he held on to it as if it were the cords of his life, and if he snapped them, he would die. Screams erupted from the wands tip and then a dense smoky hand flew out or the tip and vanished… it was the ghost of the hand he had made Wormtail… more screams… screams of terror… screams of pain… screams of thing unimaginable… and then something larger began to blossom from Voldemort's wand tip. A great silvery something that looked as it was made of the purest silver… a head formed as the hazy silvery mist began to take shape.

Harry watched the silver mist take the form of a head, trying to poke itself through the wand tip. Now a chest and arms… the legs followed and the silvery mist took the form of an elderly man. The man looked at Voldemort, then Harry, and finally the golden strip of magic, connecting the two. He looked back at Voldemort and growled.

Turning back to harry and leaning on his walking stick, the man began to talk. "He was a real wizard, then? Killed me, that one did… you fight him boy…"

Already another head had began to make its exit from Voldemort's wand tip… the head was followed quicker than the mans had, by the torso… a woman's torso… Harry, both his arms shaking as he kept hold on his wand, saw her drop to the ground and straighten up like the man before her. The shadow of Bertha Jorkins surveyed the battle before her with wide eyes.

"Don't let go, now!" she cried, and her voice echoed around the graveyard as through being shouted from afar. "Don't let him get you, Harry… don't let go!"

She began to pace the inner walls of the golden cage, with the old man, while the Death Eaters flittered around the outside of it. They whispered words of encouragement to Harry, and hissed words of Hate to Voldemort.

And now another head was emerging from the tip of the wand… a head that Harry had been expecting since the first ghost person had appeared… he knew… knew, because the woman appearing was the one he'd thought of more than any other tonight… The silvery shadow of a young woman with long hair fell to the floor as Bertha Jorkins had done, straightened up, and looked at Harry… and Harry, his arms shaking ludicrously now, looked back into the ghostly face of his mother.

"Your father's coming…" Lily said quietly. "He wants to see you… it will be alright… just don't break the connection… Hold on…"

And then Harry's father came… first his head, then his body, like the others. His untidy hair, blowing slightly as he stood up… he straightened up and stood on the other side of where his wife stood by Harry. James looked down at Harry and smiled, before his face turned serious.

His voiced hushed and muffled, so Voldemort wouldn't hear him. "When the connection is broken, we can linger for a moment and only a moment, but we will give you time… get to the Portkey… it will return you to Hogwarts… do you understand, Harry?"

"Yes," gasped Harry; fighting now to keep hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding through his fingers. His face was screwed up with the effort of holding the wand.

"Do it now," Whispered his father's voice. "Be ready to run… do it now… NOW!"

Harry yelled as he broke the connection; he didn't think he could have held on for another moment anyway – the golden thread broke; the cage of light vanished; the phoenix song died; but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not fade… they were closing in upon Voldemort… shielding Harry from his gaze…

And Harry ran as fast as he had ever ran in his life, knocking two bewildered Death Eaters aside as he passed; he zigzagged behind headstones; feeling their curses following him, hearing them hit the headstones.

"Don't let him get to the Portkey!" He heard Voldemort scream. Harry watched as four Death Eaters quickly circled the Portkey and growled.

Harry decided to try another tactic. From behind the gravestone he was hiding at, Harry aimed his wand at the closest Death Eater. "IMPEDIMENTA!" Harry bellowed. The spell hit the closest Death Eater straight in the chest.

The spell was thrown with such power, that the Death Eater fell over backwards and cracked his head on one of the gravestones. Blood spilled across the floor, staining the gravestones around him. But Harry felt no remorse. He pointed his wand at the Triwizard Cup and shouted, "Accio!"

Focusing his energy he shot another curse towards a Death Eater as the Triwizard cup hurtled to him.

"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!" shrieked Voldemort, aiming his own wand at where Harry was. He sent the Killing curse at Harry who just watched it rush towards him. The spell was just a second away from him but just Harry turned away…

End of Chapter 14.

A/N: Yeah I know it was short, but it has to run with the next chapter. Tell me what you think, I shall take all criticism.