===== Part 44. The Dark Lord's Resurrection ==========
Harry and Cedric broke out into the central square of the maze. Their battered appearance showed just how much this race in the dark had cost them. Potter looked fairly fresh, but Diggory had suffered much more. There were only three hundred metres left to the cup, but Cedric was taller and stronger, which meant he had a better chance. Harry looked doubtfully at his wand, then at the Hufflepuff. Diggory didn't hesitate, but immediately sprinted at full speed towards the cup. Suddenly, Potter noticed something huge rushing across the neighbouring tunnel towards the runner. The creature was so large that the walls of the maze shook with its movements.
"Cedric!" Harry shouted, pointing towards the approaching dark locomotive.
The Hufflepuff spun around and froze, noticing the huge Acromantula flying towards him.
Potter hit Cedric with a repelling spell, knocking him aside. The creature flew past, only slightly grazing the Hufflepuff with the stiff bristles on its huge legs.
"Stupefy!" Potter shouted, trying to immobilise the monster. The spider, hit in the side by the spell, turned viciously and, seeing a new obstacle, immediately rushed towards the Gryffindor. Grabbing Harry, who had not managed to dodge, with its front legs, it quickly dragged him towards its mouth, which gleamed with huge fangs.
"Stupefy!" came a frightened cry from the side — it was Cedric, who saw that Harry was in trouble and rushed to his aid.
The spider ignored the spell and opened its mouth wider, preparing to take a bite out of Potter, when he pointed his wand directly between its fangs and shouted "Expelliarmus," putting all his magical power into it.
Potter's body was torn from the spider's claws, breaking its shoulder and leg in the process, and thrown aside towards the cup. The dissatisfied monster, whose hind legs buckled from the blow and whose front legs rose into the air, was just beginning to get back up when Potter, lying on the ground, shouted simultaneously with Diggory: "Stupefy!" — pointing his wand at the giant arthropod's less protected belly. The spider froze and fell to its side, breaking the green hedge. Harry groaned and began to get up when Cedric ran up and jumped to his aid. Stumbling, falling and gritting their teeth, despite the pain-relieving spells cast by Diggory, they made their way to the pedestal on which the gleaming golden cup stood.
"You won, Cedric. Grab it quickly, but don't forget to send for help, because as you can see, I can't make it on my own," Potter smiled. He wanted nothing more than to get to Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing as quickly as possible.
"No, Harry," Cedric shook his head. "If it weren't for your help with the spider, it would have eaten me. I couldn't even move when I saw that mountain flying at me.
"Let's go together, then," Harry suggested. "We both deserve this victory."
"All right," said Cedric, and they were immediately swept away by the portal.
They didn't fall near the stands, but in a completely unfamiliar place, surrounded by fog. It was cold and damp, and the dirty grey haze made it impossible to tell where they were. Slipping on the wet green grass, the teenagers took only a few steps when Harry felt such a sharp pain in his forehead that he first cried out loudly, then howled and collapsed to the ground, trying to curl up. Cedric looked at Potter in confusion, not knowing how to help his friend, who was gasping for breath, when he heard a cold, lifeless voice in the fog:
"We don't need him, kill him, Tail," and as Diggory turned around, he only managed to see a bright green flash flying towards his chest.
Cedric's dead body collapsed with a squelching sound onto the wet grass next to Harry, who met his gaze with completely empty grey eyes. The cup, glowing dimly with gold, also lay nearby on the grass, slightly touching Harry's wand, which had fallen out of his hand. Potter realised with a shock that just five minutes ago, the lively and cheerful Hufflepuff, with whom they could have become friends and later discussed these adventures many times, was now dead.
"Tie the boy up, Tail. What are you doing?" came the irritated voice again, and next to Harry, literally touching his face with its cold scales, a huge, terrifying snake slithered by. Potter felt himself being lifted by magic and roughly pressed into a stone slab, entangled in ropes.
The fog cleared a little, and the boy saw that they were in an old cemetery among crooked stone gravestones, to one of which he was tied. A small man who looked like a rat, whom Harry immediately recognised as the escaped Pettigrew, busily placed a huge cauldron on prepared stone blocks. He waved his wand, lit a hot fire, and Agumenti filled it with water. The water quickly began to bubble, and the wizard stood near the cauldron and began the ritual in a high-pitched, shrill voice. The boiling surface of the liquid turned into burning lava, throwing sparkling protuberances into the sky. Pettigrew's voice constantly broke into a falsetto, betraying his panic and helplessness to change anything. He raised his wand and cried out in fear:
"Bone of my father, given without consent, bring my son back to life!"
A stream of ashes washed out from under Potter's feet and, flying over the ground, instantly disappeared into the cauldron. The furious lava hissed and exploded in a particularly strong protuberance, the flames fell sharply, and the liquid turned a poisonous blue.
Peter, with a doomed sob, pulled a thin steel dagger from his bosom, its sharp blade flashing menacingly, and spoke again:
"F-flesh... servants... given willingly... revive... your... master!"
Without ceasing to whimper, the mage stretched his right hand over the cauldron, clenched it into a fist, and with his left hand closed over it, he struck with all his might. Harry tried to look away so he wouldn't see the severed limb fall into the cauldron, blood spurting from the stump into the hissing potion. Pettigrew clamped the stump with all his strength with his remaining limb, trying not to lose consciousness.
"Nagaina," called the same cold voice, and the huge snake that had been hiding in the shadows of the graves crawled towards the cauldron and broke off two of its sharpest fangs in one swift movement, which disappeared silently into the blood-red liquid. Hissing furiously in pain, the reptile crawled back to the gravestones, casting a promising glance at the whimpering rat.
"The diadem, Tail, throw the diadem," hissed the voice again, and Pettigrew obediently took out the magnificent ornament and immediately threw it into the cauldron.
Harry watched as the beautiful diadem melted in the boiling liquid and did not notice Peter standing close to him.
"The blood of your enemy... taken without consent... resurrect... your enemy!"
Pettigrew cut the boy's arm without hesitation and immediately held a crystal vial under the gushing blood.
Pouring the red liquid into the cauldron, Peter looked at the milky-white liquid and glanced to the side, where the voice came from again:
"Continue, my faithful servant, the last act remains.
Pettigrew moved in that direction, grabbed someone, and a moment later Harry saw the Devourer holding a homunculus to his chest, which looked like a corpse worm, only huge. The creature resembled a skinless baby, and one glance at it was enough to make Harry retch. The creature wriggled its shriveled hands, some kind of slime dripping from Peter's cloak, and with a look of disgust on his face, he carried the creature to the cauldron. The tail lifted it above its head, and in the moonlight, the face appeared for a moment, ugly and pale as a rotten corpse. The tail lowered the homunculus into the boiling liquid, and the creature immediately disappeared into the depths.
Having finished the ritual, Peter was about to fall to the grass, but a threatening, malicious hissing sound made him watch the cauldron closely. At first, the liquid bubbled evenly, gradually turning from milky white to bright blue, until suddenly a furious protuberance erupted from the centre, swaying unsteadily on the surface of the liquid, then stretched out, instantly reaching Potter, who was twitching in the ropes, and with a smacking sound, dug into his forehead.
Everything Harry had felt before, all the pain and horror, was nothing compared to what he was feeling now. It felt as if his skin had been torn off, sprinkled with salt and set on fire. Every cell in his body burned, the scream that escaped his throat instantly turned into an ultrasonic sound, and Potter twitched frantically in the ropes, trying to move away from the beam that was tormenting him. The pain grew stronger and stronger, and it felt like something was being torn out of his head, tearing him apart. The worst thing was that he couldn't lose consciousness to escape into blissful oblivion and continued to experience this increasing torture every second. Harry felt that another minute of this nightmare and he would simply go mad...
Just as suddenly, the pain stopped, and the beam disappeared back into the cauldron at the same speed. Harry watched through the blood streaming into his eyes, hoping that it was all over. A deathly silence fell, broken only by a faint gurgling sound, when a tall, pale figure slowly began to rise from the cauldron, gradually taking on human form, seeming to create a male body out of steam and mist. Two red dots lit up in the darkness, and a cold voice said haughtily:
"Dress me, Tail, and quickly, you worthless worm.
Peter immediately took out a weightless bundle, which turned into a black velvet robe. With a low bow, Pettigrew threw it over the figure's head and shoulders. The silence did not last long, and then:
"I am reborn!" roared Voldemort, spreading his bony arms wide. "A-ha-ha-ha..." A piercing blue lightning bolt struck out in all directions, tearing up and scattering the gravestones.
"My wand, Pettigrew," he said without looking, and Pettigrew immediately placed the wand in his hand.
Looking closely, Harry was surprised to see a certain resemblance to his own, which was now lying next to Cedric.
Voldemort began to examine himself and test his body's capabilities. He bent forward, bent his arms, and turned in different directions. Finally, satisfied with his condition, the dark wizard looked at Peter, who was kneeling, and ordered,
"Give me your hand, Pettigrew.
Pettigrew held out his trembling stump, but Voldemort pushed it away with disgust, snarling,
"The other one... The one with the mark, you idiot!"
The whimpering Peter held out his whole hand, and Voldemort immediately summoned his followers by their marks, causing the rat to squeal in pain as his hand burned under the pressure of Voldemort's black magic.
"How many of my loyal followers are left? And who will dare to answer my call?" he hissed, looking around. "And how many idiots will decide to flee from my power?"
Stopping in front of Harry, Voldemort looked at him mockingly and spoke insinuatingly:
"The child of prophecy, the boy who lived, the victor over the Dark Lord. So many epithets for one little nobody. And here you are, in my power, now that your blood is mine, your mother's protection unable to prevent me from destroying you.
He ran a sharp claw across Harry's face, cutting his skin, and licked his finger with a forked tongue like a snake.
"See, Potter, I feel nothing. Your protection is useless now. You're going to die today, puppy!"
Harry stared at Voldemort in horror, and at that moment, frequent pops of apparition sounded around them. Faceless figures in black cloaks and silver masks appeared here and there in the cemetery, moving quickly towards the wizard standing next to Potter. Approaching cautiously, they looked at the Dark Lord, who was leaning calmly on a nearby gravestone, and could not believe their eyes. Suddenly, one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees and quickly crawled towards Voldemort.
"Master, you have returned to us!" the figure cried enthusiastically and began kissing his master's robe. The other Death Eaters immediately joined in, and the cemetery was flooded with a chorus of joyful voices. After standing for a moment, enjoying the general servility, Voldemort raised his wand and brought his arm down sharply. The Death Eaters were immediately scattered in all directions, and they stared fearfully at their master. Voldemort looked closely at each of the figures lying on the ground and spoke in a cold, evil voice:
"Welcome, my loyal comrades, I am glad to see you. All those who answered my call, those who did not betray me...
Voldemort shook his head, pacing back and forth among the kneeling figures.
"But I can feel your fear and guilt," his forked tongue flashed from behind his bloodless, narrow lips. "That foul stench coming from your souls!"
The kneeling Death Eaters shuddered and tried to make themselves smaller and less visible.
"I see that you are healthy and full of strength. So why, I ask you, has no one tried to find me in thirteen long years? Why did you not come to the aid of your master, to whom you swore eternal loyalty?
Their silence was his answer, but the Dark Lord did not need words; he simply enjoyed their fear and submission.
"I will answer these questions myself," Voldemort said, walking past the kneeling wizards again. "You decided that I was dead, that I had fallen in battle... So you decided to betray me and switch sides to my enemies. You did not believe that I am far more powerful than all my enemies. I have defeated death!" he roared again, raising his hands to the sky. "Lord Voldemort is immortal! What more proof do you need, you vile worms? Or will you make up stories that Dumbledore or the Ministry are stronger than me?"
A muffled murmur was heard in response, but Voldemort paid no attention to it, reveling in his power."I am in doubt, in great doubt... Do I even need such servants?"
The entire crowd immediately tried to crawl closer to kiss his feet.
"Crucio!" Voldemort barked, and all the dark figures immediately began to writhe in pain. Potter even hoped that someone in Hogwarts would hear the screaming Death Eaters.
Finally, the Dark Lord grew tired of it, and the Death Eaters stopped writhing. The wizard raised his wand again and barked:
"Thirteen years you thought I would not return, thirteen years of betrayal and service to my enemies. Do you think that can be forgiven? Simply forgotten? No, Lord Voldemort forgets nothing and forgives no one. Only loyal service can repay this debt. So far, only Wormtail has atoned for his guilt a little," he said, looking at Peter lying near the grave. Peter shuddered in fear, cradling his stump.
"You found me and proved your loyalty? No, Wormtail, you ran to me because you were afraid of Dumbledore and what he might do to you. You deserve this punishment, you vile worm!"
"Yes, master," Peter stammered. "Please, master, I beg you, have mercy..."
"And yet you found me and helped me rise again despite your cowardice and betrayal," Voldemort said, shaking his head as if in thought.
"You didn't come back to prove your loyalty. You came back because you were afraid of Dumbledore. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. And you know it, don't you?"
"Yes, master," moaned Tail. "Please, master... I beg you..."
"But Lord Voldemort always rewards according to merit," the dark wizard hissed with a sneer, contemptuously placing his foot on Pettigrew's head. "Look!"
He pointed his wand at the wound, and suddenly, with a painful cry from Peter, the joints of the future hand began to emerge from it, quickly growing flesh, veins, blood vessels, and nerves. Pettigrew screamed hoarsely until the hand took on a completely normal appearance and was covered with skin of a perfectly natural colour, with neatly trimmed nails forming in the final stage. Peter moved his fingers incredulously, but the hand felt and worked perfectly.
"Master!" whispered the rat enthusiastically. "I have my hand back. Thank you, master!"
Pettigrew, still on the ground, tried to kiss Voldemort's shoes, but Voldemort pushed him away in disgust.
"Take your place among the Death Eaters, Tail," he said sharply, turning away. "But know this: if you dare betray me... your new hand will strangle you."
Pettigrew, who had been looking at his limb with tears of gratitude, turned pale with horror.
Voldemort approached one of the kneeling Death Eaters and asked in a hissing whisper:
"How are things at Hogwarts, Severus? How is the great Albus Dumbledore?"
The Death Eater bowed, still kneeling, and said in a hollow voice:
"He suspects nothing, my lord. The old man is sure I am loyal to him.
"Good, Severus. Now, when we're done with the boy, go back to Hogwarts and watch the old fool. When it's time to act, you'll get the signal.
Snape bowed once more, without saying another word.
Voldemort shook his head and addressed everyone again:
"It's a pity that my truly loyal comrades are locked up in Azkaban. But never mind, my friends, we will free them and call them back to our banners of giants and werewolves. All those who have been oppressed all these years by the corrupt Ministry of Magic. I would like to introduce to you all, our honoured guest at this impromptu gathering of old comrades, — Voldemort waved his hand mockingly towards the teenager tied to the gravestone. — Look at that face, those glasses. Before you, my friends, is Harry Potter himself. The boy who lived," Voldemort laughed chillingly. He threw "Lumos" into the air so that everyone could see the wounded teenager. The wizard waved his hand and the ropes binding Harry's body dissolved into thin air. Harry immediately fell to the ground, his limbs numb.
"And now we'll have a real magical duel," the dark wizard continued, amused. "And you all watch the national hero die. Tail, give him the wand.
Pettigrew quickly found the wand lying in the grass and threw it to Harry. Trying not to step on his broken leg, Harry got up and took a few steps away from the gravestone.
"You're in no hurry, my little enemy," laughed Voldemort, and the Death Eaters echoed him with obsequious laughter.
"Perhaps you need a little encouragement, you've been waiting too long," Voldemort cooed with fatherly concern, glancing at Potter.
"Crucio!" he suddenly roared, and Harry immediately arched his back in pain. The unfortunate teenager rolled around on the grass, howling in unbearable agony, while Voldemort only intensified the spell. Suddenly, it all stopped, and the dark wizard continued in the ensuing silence:
"Get up, Potter. I have no interest in this duel. You are a complete nonentity, a puppet, the child of a prophecy invented by an old lunatic to trap me. Get up and accept your death like a wizard.
Potter, his glasses smeared with blood, silently rose from the ground, leaning on his good leg, and looked defiantly at the Dark Lord.
"You will never defeat me, you worthless piece of trash! Dumbledore is a thousand times more noble than you.
"Avada Kedavra!" screamed the enraged Voldemort, and Harry shouted back:
"Expecto Patronum!"
A green beam shot out of the dark wizard's wand and headed for Potter's chest, but the counter-spell suddenly formed a magical bond between them and a bright fireball hung between the two wands, moving back and forth. Voldemort increased the pressure and the sparkling ball began to move steadily towards Potter, despite his furious attempts to resist. It seemed that the teenager's death was inevitable, and everyone waited with joyful smiles for the outcome. Snape, whom no one had noticed, gathered his strength and non-verbally cast a repelling spell, throwing Potter aside, where he fell onto the grass, right next to the cup. The boy's eyes flashed with joy, and he grabbed Cedric with one hand and clutched the cup with the other.
"No!" screamed Voldemort as Potter was sucked into the portal.
***
Barty moved purposefully towards Hogwarts. There was one thing left to do: finally, he would finish off Moody, find out why Potter had returned alive from the cemetery, and kill him if possible. There were too many strangers around the boy right now, but when everything calmed down, Barty would sneak into the hospital wing and finish the job. It was unlikely that his master had let the bespectacled boy go; he had probably managed to escape by some incredible feat.
Alastor cursed hoarsely once again and threw the rope made of hair back up, perhaps for the hundred thousandth time, but the wizard did not despair. He had a growing feeling that he was going to die soon, so Moody tried to get out to sell his life for a galleon, not for a Knut.
Suddenly, the distracted dark warrior's hand jerked, and he felt with amazement that the rope had caught on something. Unable to believe his luck, the one-legged cripple carefully pulled the rope toward him, but it did not budge, held fast by something above. Alastor pulled harder and, clinging to the knots, began to slowly climb up.
Tumbling over the edge of the prison section, he saw the coveted recess above him and pressed down hard. The emergency exit lever worked, and the cover swung open with a bang. The light blinded Alastor, but he grabbed the edge of the chest, pulled his body out of the expanded space, and fell outside. Blinking, Moody moved the secret latch on the chest and pulled out his wand.
The room was sparsely furnished, but clearly lived in. Looking out the window, Alastor recognised the courtyard. He was at Hogwarts. With a malicious grin, Moody conjured a prosthetic limb from a vase on the windowsill, attached it to his stump, and sat down on a chair. Sooner or later, the one who had captured him would come here, and Alastor would wait for him, the shapeshifter would kill him, he would definitely wait...
Barty quickly limped to the room and the wizard, already pointing his wand to open the door, stopped. The magical eye, which had been spinning in all directions, froze, staring straight ahead, and Barty saw Moody sitting on a chair through the door. "Well, that'll make it even more fun," the Devourer decided with fierce joy, and, throwing on his shield, burst into the room. Moody attacked as soon as the door began to open, but since the wizard couldn't see who was coming in, he didn't use any deadly spells. The Expelliarmus beam was deflected by the shield, and Barty immediately cast Crucio at the old dark wizard. But Alastor had not been the Dungovers' nemesis for so many years for nothing, so he deftly dodged the flying beam and fired a whole barrage of attacking spells in response. Jumping to the side and dodging some of the most dangerous ones, Barty took the rest of the spells on his shield and immediately shouted, "Avada Kedavra," firing the killing spell at point-blank range.
Alastor, by some miracle, managed to bend backwards, dodging the green death, and rolled behind the chest. Enraged, Barty began to cast an "explosive" spell, but suddenly the door behind him shattered into splinters, and Dumbledore's angry voice said, "Expelliarmus," "Incarcerate."
Rope-like strips of the headmaster's wand immediately wrapped around the Death Eater, and Barty's wand ended up in Dumbledore's hand. Unable to keep his balance, Crouch immediately fell to the floor.
"You're just in time, my old friend," Moody began to rise from behind the trunk. "A little longer and that Mordred's foster son would have finished me off. I must have weakened a little in the trunk," Moody said, sinking heavily onto the lid and wiping sweat from his forehead.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor and Minerva McGonagall and Snape, who now looked even paler than usual, burst into the room.
"Severus," Dumbledore turned to him and nodded towards Barty. "Give him a few drops of Veritaserum. I think Mr. Death Eater, who took the form of our friend and led us all this time, has a lot to tell us." Snape approached Crouch impassively and grabbed him sharply by the chin, prying open his clenched jaw. He dripped three drops of Veritaserum into his mouth and stepped back behind Dumbledore.
"Tell us who you are, sir," asked the great light-haired man.
Simultaneously with the interrogation, Albus thoughtfully searched Crouch's memory, paying no attention to whether the Death Eater would remain sane after such an ordeal. He needed to piece together a complete picture of what had happened that year. So, he learned everything that was in Barty's memory, saw Voldemort and Pettigrew in his thoughts, their actions and conversations. He discovered what had caused the attack on Narcissa Malfoy. He was particularly interested in the passage where the homunculus argues that Crouch is too weak to get the rest of the Horcruxes. Albus carefully reviewed these fragments of memory several times. So, the ring is in the old Gonts' hut, the locket is in the cave, and the cup is in Gringotts. That means they have to be retrieved from there to prevent Riddle from gaining great power.
Footsteps sounded again in the corridor, and the Minister of Magic burst into the room, accompanied by his guarding Dementor.
"What's going on here, Dumbledore?" Fudge exclaimed sharply, staring first at the bound Moody, then at his exact copy, sitting in simple rags on the lid of the chest. "What's going on here?!"
At that moment, Moody's reverse transformation began. His magical eye fell out, replaced by a real one. His prosthetic leg fell off, and the stump began to rapidly lengthen and take on the shape of a normal leg. The man's face changed significantly, becoming younger and more elongated. In place of the former dark wizard sat the long-dead Barty Crouch Jr., a contemptuous smile on his lips.
"The Lord will win anyway!" he spat. "Death awaits you all, Morgana's spawn! For he has returned from the dead, ha-ha-ha..."
Cornelius stared at him in horror, then shouted:
"That's Barty Crouch Jr., what's he doing here?!" All the wizards turned to the pale-faced minister, while the Dementor flew past and bent over the bound man, drinking his soul.
"Expecto Patronum," Dumbledore shouted, throwing the Dementor out the window. "Why did you do that, Cornelius?"
"He chose to do so himself," Fudge grimaced, "probably sensing the danger I posed to him.
"Why did you bring a Dementor to Hogwarts?" shouted McGonagall.
"I am the Minister, and I decide who I need for my protection," Fudge snapped. "At least now Crouch can't hurt anyone! He's a dangerous murderer, and that's where he belongs.
"But now the Death Eater can't tell anyone," squeaked Moody. "Tell everyone that Voldemort is back. Tell us why he killed all those people and his own father.
"No one has returned!" Fudge squealed. "Don't talk nonsense, Moody. Crouch is just crazy, everyone knows that. He was talking nonsense about an invisible master who made him kill. It's over, the murderer has been caught, the case is closed," the minister snapped, clapping his hands nervously.
McGonagall glared at him, while Snape and Moody grimaced contemptuously.
"Now let's go to Mr Potter," Fudge said decisively. "We do have a winner of the tournament, after all, and I should have a word with him.
"But the boy is in the hospital wing!" McGonagall exclaimed. "He has a broken leg, wounds on his body and face. What do you want from a boy in that condition? He has been tortured by Cruciatus! Give him time to recover a little. The boy has endured such torment that he is surely unable to speak.
"The entire international community is waiting for him," Fudge snapped. "I must see Mr Potter immediately.
They moved as a crowd toward the hospital wing, Minerva glaring at the Minister all the way. Dumbledore walked along, deep in thought, with Snape and Moody following behind.
Opening the doors to the hospital wing, they saw a row of beds, one of which was occupied by a pale, bandaged Harry Potter. Madam Pomfrey, hearing the commotion, rushed out of the adjoining room and glared angrily at the wizards who had entered.
"Mr. Potter, can you hear me?" Fudge called loudly.
The bespectacled boy slowly opened his eyes and focused on Fudge.
"What happened, Mr. Potter? Why are you here with Mr. Diggory's dead body?"
"He was killed by Voldemort," whispered Harry.
"There is no Voldemort, Potter," Fudge screeched. "Stop this nonsense!"
"No. It was Voldemort!" Harry shouted furiously. "He killed Cedric in the graveyard."
Fudge turned away from the wizards in disgust and curled his lips.
"And I was hoping the Daily Prophet was wrong when it said Potter was constantly fainting, complaining of headaches and talking nonsense. Perhaps we should send him to Mungo's.
"Harry is not mad," Dumbledore thundered, his glasses flashing fiercely. "It does you no credit, Minister, to bury your head in the sand.
Fudge pulled the golden cup and the bag of galleons from his robe pocket."Here is the tournament cup and the prize for the winner — a thousand galleons. The cup is yours," Cornelius threw it to Potter. "And I'll give these gold coins to Mr. Diggory's parents. At least that will compensate them for their loss. I think you killed the Hogwarts champion, Potter. It's a pity I can't prove it yet.
He shoved the bag of galleons into his pocket and left the room without looking at anyone.