Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR 
 
 
Prior Incantatem 
Wormtail approached Harry, who scrambled to find his feet, to support his own weight before 
the ropes were untied. Wormtail raised his new silver hand, pulled out the wad of material 
gagging Harry, and then, with one swipe, cut through the bonds tying Harry to the gravestone. 
There was a split second, perhaps, when Harry might have considered running for it, but his 
injured leg shook under him as he stood on the overgrown grave, as the Death Eaters closed 
ranks, forming a tighter circle around him and Voldemort, so that the gaps where the missing 
Death Eaters should have stood were filled.
Wormtail walked out of the circle to the place where Cedric’s body lay and returned with 
Harry’s wand, which he thrust roughly into Harry’s hand without looking at him. Then Wormtail 
resumed his place in the circle of watching Death Eaters. 
“You have been taught how to duel Harry Potter?” said Voldemort softly, his red eyes glinting 
through the darkness. 
At these words Harry remembered, as though from a former life, the dueling club at Hogwarts he 
had attended briefly two years ago… All he had learned there was the Disarming Spell, 
“Expelliarmus”… and what use would it be to deprive Voldemort of his wand, even if he could, 
when he was surrounded by Death Eaters, outnumbered by at least thirty to one? He had never 
learned anything that could possibly fit him for this. He knew he was facing the thing against 
which Moody had always warned… the unblockable Avada Kedavra curse – and Voldemort was 
right - his mother was not here to die for him this time… He was quite unprotected…
“We bow to each other. Harry,” said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snakelike face 
upturned to Harry. “Come, the niceties must be observed… Dumbledore would like you to show 
manners… Bow to death, Harry…” 
The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemorts lipless mouth was smiling. Harry did not 
bow. He was not going to let Voldemort play with him before killing him… he was not going to 
give him that satisfaction…
“I said, bow,” Voldemort said, raising his wand - and Harry felt his spine curve as though a huge, 
invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than 
ever. 
“Very good,” said Voldemort softly, and as he raised his wand the pressure bearing down upon 
Harry lifted too. “And now you face me, like a man… straight-backed and proud, the way your 
father died…
“And now - we duel.” 

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Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could do anything to defend himself, before he 
could even move, he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was so intense, so all-
consuming, that he no longer knew where he was… White-hot knives were piercing every inch 
of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain, he was screaming more loudly than he’d 
ever 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 his hand had been cut off; he staggered sideways into 
the wall of watching Death Eaters, and they pushed him away, back toward Voldemort. 
“A little break,” said Voldemort, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement, “a little pause… 
That hurt, didn’t it Harry? You don’t want me to do that again, do you?” 
Harry didn’t answer. He was going to die like Cedric, those pitiless red eyes were telling him 
so… he was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it… but he wasn’t going to 
play along. He wasn’t going to obey Voldemort… he wasn’t going to beg…
“I asked you whether you want me to do that again,” said Voldemort softly. 
“Answer me! Imperio” 
And Harry felt, for the third time in his life, the sensation that his mind had been wiped of all 
thought… Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as though he were floating, dreaming… just 
answer no… say no… just answer no…
I will not, said a stronger voice, in the back of his head, I won’t answer… Just answer no…
I won’t do it, I won’t say it…
Just answer no…
“I WON’T!” 
And these words burst from Harry’s mouth; they echoed through the graveyard, and the dream 
state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over him - back rushed the 
aches that the Cruciatus Curse had left all over his body - back rushed the realization of where he 
was, and what he was facing…
“You won’t?” said Voldemort quietly, and the Death Eaters were not laughing now. “You won’t 
say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die… Perhaps another little 
dose of pain?” 
Voldemort raised his wand, but this time Harry was ready; with the reflexes born of his 
Quidditch training, he flung himself sideways onto the ground; he rolled behind the marble 
headstone of Voldemort s father, and he heard it crack as the curse missed him. 

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“We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry,” said Voldemort’s soft, cold voice, drawing nearer, as 
the Death Eaters laughed. “You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? 
Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry… come out 
and play, then… it will be quick… it might even be painless… I would not know… I have never 
died…” 
Harry crouched behind the headstone and knew the end had come. There was no hope… no help 
to be had. And as he heard Voldemort draw nearer still, he knew one thing only, and it was 
beyond fear or reason: He was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-
seek; he was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort s feet… he was going to die upright like his 
father, and he was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defense was possible…
Before Voldemort could stick his snakelike face around the headstone. Harry stood up… he 
gripped his wand tightly in his hand, thrust it out in front of him, and threw himself around the 
headstone, facing Voldemort.
Voldemort was ready. As Harry shouted, “Expelliarmus!” Voldemort cried, “Avada Kedavra!” 
A jet of green light issued from Voldemorts wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Harry’s - 
they met in midair - and suddenly Harry’s wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were 
surging through it; his hand seized up around it; he couldn’t have released it if he’d wanted to - 
and a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep 
gold. Harry, following the beam with his astonished gaze, saw that Voldemort’s long white 
fingers too were gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating. 
And then - nothing could have prepared Harry for this - he felt his feet lift from the ground. He 
and Voldemort were both being raised into the air, their wands still connected by that thread of 
shimmering golden light. They glided away from the tombstone of Voldemort’s father and then 
came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves… The Death Eaters were 
shouting; they were asking Voldemort for instructions; they were closing in, reforming the circle 
around Harry and Voldemort, the snake slithering at their heels, some of them drawing their 
wands – 
The golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort splintered; though the wands remained 
connected, a thousand more beams arced high over Harry and Voldemort, crisscrossing all 
around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond 
which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now…
“Do nothing!” Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, and Harry saw his red eyes wide with 
astonishment at what was happening, saw him fighting to break the thread of light still 
connecting his wand with Harry’s; Harry held onto his wand more tightly, with both hands, and 
the golden thread remained unbroken. “Do nothing unless I command you!” Voldemort shouted 
to the Death Eaters. 

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And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air… It was coming from every thread of 
the light-spun web vibrating around Harry and Voldemort. It was a sound Harry recognized, 
though he had heard it only once before in his life: phoenix song. 
It was the sound of hope to Harry… the most beautiful and welcome thing he had ever heard in 
his life… He felt as though the song were inside him instead of just around him… It was the 
sound he connected with Dumbledore, and it was almost as though a friend were speaking in his 
ear…