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"My villagers were nearly slaughtered by those Dark Wizards before they even had a chance to fight back," Elaine said, her voice trembling with anger.
"The little boy with the strange eyes—he was taken. The Dark Wizards used magic to teleport him away—" she continued.
Ethan's expression darkened. The very thing he had feared most had come to pass.
"Elaine, are you sure you don't want to come with us? We can take you back," Ethan offered.
"No. I have to stay and protect my village," she replied firmly.
Ethan hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"Take care of yourself."
With a final glance, he turned to Sirius, gave a quick gesture, and the two of them hurried upstream toward the lake.
Moments later, they emerged from the water, gasping for air.
"Damn it! Damn it!"
Sirius shouted, clambering onto the shore.
"Those damned Death Eaters kidnapped Harry!"
His voice was raw with frustration.
"What do we do, Dumbledore?" he demanded.
"Harry's been taken!"
Dumbledore's sharp blue eyes widened.
"Death Eaters? What exactly happened at the bottom of the lake?"
Sirius quickly recounted everything Elaine had told them.
"Where did they take Harry?" he pressed.
Ethan exhaled slowly, piecing the puzzle together.
"I have a theory," he said.
"If Voldemort was behind this, then the most likely reason he kidnapped Harry is to complete his resurrection. And if that's the case…"
Sirius's eyes narrowed.
"The Riddle family cemetery," he finished, realization dawning on him.
Ethan nodded.
Sirius turned to him in shock. "How do you know that?"
"I have my own sources," Ethan said briefly.
"So, are we going?"
"I'm going! We're leaving now!" Sirius said, barely able to contain his urgency.
Dumbledore, who had remained silent until now, murmured, "Perhaps it's time I see Tom again as well."
Ethan glanced at Dumbledore's injured wrist and frowned.
"No, Headmaster. You should rest. One of us needs to stay behind in case something goes wrong."
Dumbledore flexed his fingers, his gaze thoughtful. Finally, he sighed.
"Very well," he conceded.
"I will await your return."
With no time to waste, Ethan and Sirius exchanged a glance, then vanished into the night.
They reappeared in a dark, overgrown cemetery.
A towering yew tree loomed to their right, casting eerie shadows over an old chapel.
Beyond it, a hill rose sharply into the night.
In the dim moonlight, faint movements flickered in the distance.
Sirius stiffened. He had spotted something—or someone.
Before he could rush forward, Ethan clamped a firm hand on his shoulder, silencing him with a look.
Wordlessly, Ethan reached into his bag and pulled out two Invisibility Cloaks, tossing one over Sirius before he could protest.
"Let's take a closer look first," Ethan whispered.
They moved cautiously, cloaks shrouding them in darkness.
A group of hooded figures stood around a massive stone cauldron, its surface bubbling with a sickly, glowing liquid.
A fire crackled beneath it, casting flickering shadows over the gathered Death Eaters.
Ethan's eyes scanned the figures and immediately recognized one—Bellatrix Lestrange.
Even with her face concealed by a hood, her posture and the way she cradled something in her arms were unmistakable.
Then he saw them.
Suspended in midair, their limbs limp and outstretched, were Harry and Neville.
Ethan's breath hitched. They were both unconscious, but their chests still rose and fell—alive, for now. No visible injuries, but that meant nothing.
Beside him, Sirius spotted Harry as well. His breathing became ragged, his fingers twitching toward his wand.
Ethan tensed. If Sirius acted on impulse, they would be discovered.
And then, all hell would break loose.
But Ethan held Sirius back, gripping his arm tightly.
Ahead, in the valley, several Death Eaters stood guard around Harry and Neville, their wands drawn, their faces tense.
"We need to hurry! The Ministry of Magic isn't as easy to deal with as it used to be!" a Death Eater muttered anxiously.
"Shut up, old Goyle! One more word, and I'll kill you myself!" Bellatrix snapped, her voice like a whip.
At that moment, a cold, hissing voice came from the bundle in her arms.
"Quick!"
"Yes, my Lord! Almost there!" Bellatrix said eagerly.
The liquid in the cauldron shimmered, crackling as sparks danced across its surface, glistening like scattered diamonds.
A massive black serpent slithered in slow circles around the cauldron, hissing softly.
"Hurry! Burn it! Now!"
Voldemort snarled, his voice filled with impatience.
Bellatrix lifted the frail, grotesque form of Voldemort toward the cauldron, the firelight casting flickering shadows across his deformed body.
Ethan finally got a good look at him.
Voldemort had no hair, and his dark, reddish skin was rough and scaly, like freshly wounded flesh.
His limbs were disturbingly thin, hanging limply, resembling a flayed creature. His face was flat, snakelike, his crimson eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Hurry! Hurry!" Voldemort muttered, almost feverishly.
"Yes, Master! Almost there!"
Bellatrix's excitement matched his urgency, as if she longed for his rebirth more than he did.
Sirius tensed beside Ethan, his breath quickening.
"Ethan, we have to move! They're about to attack Harry!"
"Wait! I have a plan," Ethan whispered sharply.
Bellatrix trembled with excitement as she lifted the frail Voldemort and dropped him into the cauldron like an offering to some dark deity.
Holding her head high, she began the incantation, her voice filled with reverence.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
A nearby tomb cracked open. A wisp of pale dust spiraled into the air before drifting into the cauldron.
The liquid reacted violently, hissing and bubbling, the sparks turning a venomous blue-red.
Bellatrix continued, her voice rising in intensity.
"Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master!"
Without hesitation, she pulled a dagger from her robes and, without so much as a wince, sliced off her own palm.
A sickening plop echoed as the severed hand hit the potion, the liquid now burning a brilliant, fiery red, exuding a thick, acrid stench.
A Death Eater barked an order.
"You! Toad-face! Bring Harry to the Dark Lord!"
Ethan's stomach clenched as he saw her.
Dolores Umbridge, draped in a black robe, stepped forward reluctantly, her expression a mixture of fear and loathing.
She reached for Harry's unconscious body, her pudgy fingers curling around his wrist as she dragged him toward the cauldron.
Ethan's mind raced. This was their only chance.
"Sirius, take Harry and Neville. Disapparate immediately. Leave the rest to me," he whispered.
Sirius met his gaze, understanding the weight of the plan, and gave a firm nod. His wand was already in hand, ready.
Bellatrix lifted her arms, exalting to the night sky.
"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe!"
She gestured sharply at Umbridge, signaling her to bring Harry closer.
Sirius moved.
In a blur, he appeared in front of Umbridge and drove his fist straight into her face.
The impact sent her sprawling backward with a shocked, muffled shriek.
The Death Eaters stood frozen for half a second, stunned.
Then, all hell broke loose.