Missing Pieces [R] Angelina/Cedric
Title: Missing Pieces
Author/Artist: gfeather
Pairing(s): Angelina/Cedric
Rating: R
Warnings: mentions of canon character deaths, extreme plot
Word Count 21 200
Summary: Waking up alone and disoriented in the Forbidden Forest, Cedric's memory is hazy, but he knows something is very wrong. Forced to confront a dark past he can't quite remember, help is offered from others missing pieces just like him.
Author's notes: The prologue of this story is essentially a retelling of chapters 32-34 of GOF to set up my universe. I’m calling this fic ‘demi-AU’ because with a certain logic placed upon it, there is only one major liberty taken with canon here, that is, Wormtail’s incompetence. When you think about it, Wormtail is unlikely to have used Voldemort’s wand to kill Cedric Diggory, Frank Bryce or Bertha Jorkins. If he did not have his own wand, he would have acquired one in his travels to Albania, but I just can’t see Voldemort allowing anyone, let alone Wormtail use his wand. As to how Voldemort has his original wand when he didn’t have a body, well... I’ll just leave that the way canon is and ignore how it manages to be in his possession, ‘cause I still can’t come up with a decent explanation for it. This fic assumes everything from GoF OotP, HBP and DH minus the epilogue has happened.
Written for idea_of_sarcasm for the 2008 smuttyclaus exchange. A thousand thanks to my betas bambu345 and brienze. I probably would have given up without you. All remaining mistakes are mine, mostly due to a stubborness about what should and shouldn't be capitalized.
Prologue
June 24, 1995.
From far away, a high, cold voice said, “Kill the spare.”
A somewhat tremulous voice shrieked, “Avada Kadavra!”
There was a flash of light and Cedric Diggory fell to the ground with a heavy thump. For a moment, Harry looked at the figure on the ground, stunned, but his moment of shock was short lived as he was dragged across the graveyard and lashed tightly to a cold, marble headstone bearing the name Tom Riddle.
Harry was forced to watch in terror as Wormtail pushed an enormous stone cauldron to the foot of the grave, lit a fire beneath it and proceeded to perform the horrendous ritual resurrecting Lord Voldemort.
Emerging from the cauldron, Voldemort was quickly robed and summoned for his followers through the Dark Mark on Wormtail’s arm. Rapidly, the graveyard filled with masked and robed figures that prostrated themselves at the feet of their master, only to be castigated for their lack of action over the past thirteen years. The skeletal figure bestowed a silver hand on Wormtail for his assistance then paced the circle, reciting the story of the years since his downfall and detailing the events which led to his return. When he was through speaking, he turned his attention back to the boy bound to the marble headstone and called for Harry Potter to duel.
Voldemort toyed with Harry like a particularly vicious cat as the young man ducked and weaved through the headstones. In a desperate attempt to defend himself, Harry stepped out from his hiding place and shouted, “Expelliarmus!” as Voldemort cried, “Avada Kadavra!”
The spell light that issued from each of their wands connected in midair and became bright gold. Each of the combatants was forced to clutch their wands tightly as the energy thrummed between them. They were lifted out of the graveyard and set down in a clearing as the single strand of gold splintered and encased them in a dome of light and magic. Though the Death Eater’s circled, Voldemort called them off. Pheonix song filled the air, and beads of light appeared along the strand of magic connecting Harry’s wand to Voldemort’s. Though his wand trembled, Harry pushed the beads of light towards his opponent’s wand.
When the light connected, a scream seemed to emit from Voldemort’s wand followed by a misty spectre of a silver hand. The Dark Lord looked on in shock and apprehension as a larger, thicker, grey mist appeared out the end of his wand and formed itself into a young, long-haired woman, Lily Potter. She spoke softly in encouragement to Harry as more mist emerged and took the form of James Potter.
The spectre of Lily whispered in Harry’s ear, “When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments... but we will give you time ... you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts ... do you understand, Harry?”
“Yes,” Harry gasped.
“Do it now,” whispered the form of James Potter, “Be ready to run ... do it now ...”
With a shout, Harry wrenched his wand upwards, breaking the thread of magic connecting him to Voldemort. The cage of light vanished and the phoenix song ended, but the misty spectres of his parents remained, blocking Voldemort temporarily. Despite his leg wound from the acromantula in the Triwizard Maze, Harry ran as he had never run before in his life, dodging headstones and weaving through monuments. Raising his wand, he summoned the Triwizard Cup. He caught it left-handed and vanished, still running full tilt.
Voldemort let out a shriek of displeasure, pushing through the dissipating mist as Harry Potter grasped the portkey and disappeared back to Hogwarts. Completely enraged, he pointed his wand at the nearest robed figure and screamed, “Crucio!”
The man writhed and wailed in pain until Voldemort lifted his wand and pointed it at another one of his followers. Screams rent the air of the cemetery, as the Death Eaters felt their Lord’s rage.
After several had been subjected to the curse, Voldemort walked around the reformed circle, shouting angrily. “You idiots! You let him take the portkey! If we are fortunate, my most loyal follower will detain him and prevent him from speaking with that fool, Dumbledore! Every top official from the Ministry is at Hogwarts as we speak, including the Minister of Magic, yet our transport to Hogwarts is gone! We cannot go ahead with the takeover tonight. Once more, I shall have to wait.”
A nervous voice from the circle asked, “My Lord, what shall we do?”
The slits of Voldemort’s nose flared slightly as he drew in a long breath before answering calmly. “You shall return to your homes. If Dumbledore has indeed been alerted to the events of this evening, we must, for the time being, remain cautious. It shall be as it was before tonight. Fudge is an idiot and a coward. He will not wish to believe, nor has he any evidence to believe, I have returned. This is to our advantage. All of you will do as you have before; seek out those who believe in our cause, but above all else deny my return to the general public. It will be easier to prepare for what is to come if no one is looking for us, yes?”
Hooded figures nodded and murmured words of agreement.
“Ensure that no one has cause to believe you were elsewhere tonight. Leave now. Time is growing short,” Voldemort commanded and within moments only he and Wormtail remained.
Nervous and shaking, Wormtail kneeled before his master. “My Lord, what would you have me do?”
Voldemort frowned at him for a moment, and then turned his gaze to the stone cauldron. “We too must ensure there is no evidence of our presence here tonight. Fetch the cauldron, while I dispose of the body. We shall have to leave this place, for a short time at least. It is possible that Dumbledore will come nosing around. There are other places we can go for now.”
Wormtail scurried behind as the Dark Lord strode across the graveyard to the place where Potter and the other boy had appeared. Looming over the body, Voldemort raised his wand to transfigure it, and then stopped. His head snapped back, red eyes boring into the nervous man shifting from foot to foot. “Utterly incompetent. It is astonishing that I managed to guide you through the resurrection ritual successfully.”
“My Lord?” Wormtail squeaked.
“You couldn’t even kill the boy properly. Your wand work is atrocious. How you managed the other two is a mystery.” Voldemort said scathingly.
“He’s not dead? But-”
“Your bungling caused only a temporary shock to his nervous system.”
“I will try again. Let me do this for you, my Lord.”
“No. It is no longer important that he be killed. In fact, it has been proven to me twice now the value of those whom the world believes are dead. He shall prove a most useful tool to us,” Voldemort observed before raising his wand, “Renneverate. Imperio.”
A pair of glassy, grey eyes looked up into fiery, red ones. Pointing a bony finger at Wormtail, Voldemort said, “Assist him with the cauldron.”
Blinking once, Cedric pushed himself up off the ground and stumbled slightly as his foot caught the edge of a marker stone. Staggering over to the stone cauldron, glassy eyes turned to Wormtail for direction; ready to obey any command he was given.
***
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Author/Artist: gfeather
Pairing(s): Angelina/Cedric
Rating: R
Warnings: mentions of canon character deaths, extreme plot
Word Count 21 200
Summary: Waking up alone and disoriented in the Forbidden Forest, Cedric's memory is hazy, but he knows something is very wrong. Forced to confront a dark past he can't quite remember, help is offered from others missing pieces just like him.
Author's notes: The prologue of this story is essentially a retelling of chapters 32-34 of GOF to set up my universe. I’m calling this fic ‘demi-AU’ because with a certain logic placed upon it, there is only one major liberty taken with canon here, that is, Wormtail’s incompetence. When you think about it, Wormtail is unlikely to have used Voldemort’s wand to kill Cedric Diggory, Frank Bryce or Bertha Jorkins. If he did not have his own wand, he would have acquired one in his travels to Albania, but I just can’t see Voldemort allowing anyone, let alone Wormtail use his wand. As to how Voldemort has his original wand when he didn’t have a body, well... I’ll just leave that the way canon is and ignore how it manages to be in his possession, ‘cause I still can’t come up with a decent explanation for it. This fic assumes everything from GoF OotP, HBP and DH minus the epilogue has happened.
Written for idea_of_sarcasm for the 2008 smuttyclaus exchange. A thousand thanks to my betas bambu345 and brienze. I probably would have given up without you. All remaining mistakes are mine, mostly due to a stubborness about what should and shouldn't be capitalized.
Prologue
June 24, 1995.
From far away, a high, cold voice said, “Kill the spare.”
A somewhat tremulous voice shrieked, “Avada Kadavra!”
There was a flash of light and Cedric Diggory fell to the ground with a heavy thump. For a moment, Harry looked at the figure on the ground, stunned, but his moment of shock was short lived as he was dragged across the graveyard and lashed tightly to a cold, marble headstone bearing the name Tom Riddle.
Harry was forced to watch in terror as Wormtail pushed an enormous stone cauldron to the foot of the grave, lit a fire beneath it and proceeded to perform the horrendous ritual resurrecting Lord Voldemort.
Emerging from the cauldron, Voldemort was quickly robed and summoned for his followers through the Dark Mark on Wormtail’s arm. Rapidly, the graveyard filled with masked and robed figures that prostrated themselves at the feet of their master, only to be castigated for their lack of action over the past thirteen years. The skeletal figure bestowed a silver hand on Wormtail for his assistance then paced the circle, reciting the story of the years since his downfall and detailing the events which led to his return. When he was through speaking, he turned his attention back to the boy bound to the marble headstone and called for Harry Potter to duel.
Voldemort toyed with Harry like a particularly vicious cat as the young man ducked and weaved through the headstones. In a desperate attempt to defend himself, Harry stepped out from his hiding place and shouted, “Expelliarmus!” as Voldemort cried, “Avada Kadavra!”
The spell light that issued from each of their wands connected in midair and became bright gold. Each of the combatants was forced to clutch their wands tightly as the energy thrummed between them. They were lifted out of the graveyard and set down in a clearing as the single strand of gold splintered and encased them in a dome of light and magic. Though the Death Eater’s circled, Voldemort called them off. Pheonix song filled the air, and beads of light appeared along the strand of magic connecting Harry’s wand to Voldemort’s. Though his wand trembled, Harry pushed the beads of light towards his opponent’s wand.
When the light connected, a scream seemed to emit from Voldemort’s wand followed by a misty spectre of a silver hand. The Dark Lord looked on in shock and apprehension as a larger, thicker, grey mist appeared out the end of his wand and formed itself into a young, long-haired woman, Lily Potter. She spoke softly in encouragement to Harry as more mist emerged and took the form of James Potter.
The spectre of Lily whispered in Harry’s ear, “When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments... but we will give you time ... you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts ... do you understand, Harry?”
“Yes,” Harry gasped.
“Do it now,” whispered the form of James Potter, “Be ready to run ... do it now ...”
With a shout, Harry wrenched his wand upwards, breaking the thread of magic connecting him to Voldemort. The cage of light vanished and the phoenix song ended, but the misty spectres of his parents remained, blocking Voldemort temporarily. Despite his leg wound from the acromantula in the Triwizard Maze, Harry ran as he had never run before in his life, dodging headstones and weaving through monuments. Raising his wand, he summoned the Triwizard Cup. He caught it left-handed and vanished, still running full tilt.
Voldemort let out a shriek of displeasure, pushing through the dissipating mist as Harry Potter grasped the portkey and disappeared back to Hogwarts. Completely enraged, he pointed his wand at the nearest robed figure and screamed, “Crucio!”
The man writhed and wailed in pain until Voldemort lifted his wand and pointed it at another one of his followers. Screams rent the air of the cemetery, as the Death Eaters felt their Lord’s rage.
After several had been subjected to the curse, Voldemort walked around the reformed circle, shouting angrily. “You idiots! You let him take the portkey! If we are fortunate, my most loyal follower will detain him and prevent him from speaking with that fool, Dumbledore! Every top official from the Ministry is at Hogwarts as we speak, including the Minister of Magic, yet our transport to Hogwarts is gone! We cannot go ahead with the takeover tonight. Once more, I shall have to wait.”
A nervous voice from the circle asked, “My Lord, what shall we do?”
The slits of Voldemort’s nose flared slightly as he drew in a long breath before answering calmly. “You shall return to your homes. If Dumbledore has indeed been alerted to the events of this evening, we must, for the time being, remain cautious. It shall be as it was before tonight. Fudge is an idiot and a coward. He will not wish to believe, nor has he any evidence to believe, I have returned. This is to our advantage. All of you will do as you have before; seek out those who believe in our cause, but above all else deny my return to the general public. It will be easier to prepare for what is to come if no one is looking for us, yes?”
Hooded figures nodded and murmured words of agreement.
“Ensure that no one has cause to believe you were elsewhere tonight. Leave now. Time is growing short,” Voldemort commanded and within moments only he and Wormtail remained.
Nervous and shaking, Wormtail kneeled before his master. “My Lord, what would you have me do?”
Voldemort frowned at him for a moment, and then turned his gaze to the stone cauldron. “We too must ensure there is no evidence of our presence here tonight. Fetch the cauldron, while I dispose of the body. We shall have to leave this place, for a short time at least. It is possible that Dumbledore will come nosing around. There are other places we can go for now.”
Wormtail scurried behind as the Dark Lord strode across the graveyard to the place where Potter and the other boy had appeared. Looming over the body, Voldemort raised his wand to transfigure it, and then stopped. His head snapped back, red eyes boring into the nervous man shifting from foot to foot. “Utterly incompetent. It is astonishing that I managed to guide you through the resurrection ritual successfully.”
“My Lord?” Wormtail squeaked.
“You couldn’t even kill the boy properly. Your wand work is atrocious. How you managed the other two is a mystery.” Voldemort said scathingly.
“He’s not dead? But-”
“Your bungling caused only a temporary shock to his nervous system.”
“I will try again. Let me do this for you, my Lord.”
“No. It is no longer important that he be killed. In fact, it has been proven to me twice now the value of those whom the world believes are dead. He shall prove a most useful tool to us,” Voldemort observed before raising his wand, “Renneverate. Imperio.”
A pair of glassy, grey eyes looked up into fiery, red ones. Pointing a bony finger at Wormtail, Voldemort said, “Assist him with the cauldron.”
Blinking once, Cedric pushed himself up off the ground and stumbled slightly as his foot caught the edge of a marker stone. Staggering over to the stone cauldron, glassy eyes turned to Wormtail for direction; ready to obey any command he was given.
***
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