Flesh, Blood and Bone (GF)
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Flesh, Blood and Bone is the thirty-second chapter of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.
Contents |
The Little Hangleton graveyard
Harry Potter's feet slam into the ground, and he falls forward, letting go of the Triwizard Cup. Neither he nor Cedric Diggory know where they are. It is obvious that they are far from Hogwarts.
The place is a dark graveyard. The outline of a small church is visible beyond a tree to their right, and a hill stood on their left. Harry can see the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.
Neither of the boys was told that the Cup was a Portkey. They get their wands out, warily eyeing the surroundings. Harry has a strong feeling of being watched —and he's suddenly sure that someone is coming.
A short, hooded figure draws nearer, carrying something. The bundle in the person's arms resembles either a baby or a bundle of robes; Harry cannot be sure in the dark.
The figure stops by a tombstone, and for a while simply stares at Harry. Unexpectedly, the boy feels pain on his scar—worse than ever—, and he falls to the ground.
A high, cold voice says, "Kill the spare."
A second voice enunciates, "Avada Kedavra!"
Something heavy tumbles down beside Harry; the pain on his scar lessens a bit, enabling him to open his eyes. Cedric's body is spread-eagled on the ground beside Harry, with open grey eyes and a blank, slightly surprised facial expression.
Wormtail
Harry is then pulled to his feet. The short man in the cloak lights his wand, and drags Harry (who leaves his wand at Cedric's feet) toward a marble headstone. It reads "TOM RIDDLE".
The man conjures tight cords around Harry, tying him to the headstone. He then hits Harry with his four-fingered hand, and the boy finally recognises the figure: Peter Pettigrew.
"You," he spits, but Wormtail ignores him. He checks the ropes, fingers trembling, so that Harry is entirely unable to move.
Peter stuffs some cloth into Harry's mouth before walking away. The bundle of robes is at the foot of the grave. Whenever Harry stares at it, the pain in his scar returns. A huge snake slithers through the grass, circling the same headstone.
Potion
Peter brings a large stone cauldron to the grave, full of liquid that resembles water. He conjures fire. Nagini disappears. The potion inside the cauldron stirs; the bundle of robes grows more impatient; the cold voice says, "Hurry!"
The surface of the potion lights up in sparks. When it is shining enough, Wormtail announces that it is ready.
Bone of the father…
Peter pulls open the robes on the ground. Harry yells when he sees what's inside. The being was the shape of a crouched human child, but ugly, slimy, scaly-looking, hairless; its skin is reddish black. The face does not in the least resemble that of a human child: it is flat, snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.
The thing lifts its thin arms and wraps them around Wormtail's neck. Harry sees the look of revulsion in Wormtail's face as the former Marauder carries the creature to the cauldron.
Harry's scar is burning almost too much for him to bear. He hears Pettigrew—who is visibly frightened by his own actions—saying, "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
The grave beneath Harry's feet cracks. A trickle of dust rises from it and falls into the potion. The bright surface of the potion becomes blue.
Wormtail pulls a long silver dagger from his cloak and sobs, "Flesh — of the servant — w–willingly given — you will — revive — your master."
He cuts off his right hand (the one missing a finger) and screams, dropping the hand into the cauldron. The potion takes on a blood red tone.
"B–blood of the enemy … forcibly taken … you will … resurrect your foe."
Wormtail cuts Harry's arm with the same dagger and holds a glass vial beneath the wound in order to collect the blood. When he adds this last ingredient to the potion, it instantly becomes a blinding white.
Pettigrew sinks to his knees and lies on the ground; Harry feverishly hopes that the potion malfunctions somehow.
Rebirth
The cauldron suddenly stops emitting sparks; white steam billows instead, fogging up the air around them all.
Harry then sees the dark outline of a man, tall and very thin, rising from inside the cauldron. "Robe me," the same cold voice says. Wormail, cradling his wounded arm, picks up the black robes from the ground and dresses his master.
The man's wide, livid scarlet eyes bore into Harry's. The impossibly white skin and flat, snakelike nostrils are unmistakeable: Lord Voldemort has risen again.
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| The Third Task | Flesh, Blood and Bone | The Death Eaters |
