Voldemort's red eyes hardened. "Fifty lashes, Rodolphus," he said calmly. "Harry needs to understand that disobedience would only lead to punishment."
"Yes, master," Rodolphus grinned. He gripped the end of the whip. With those numerous cuts Bellatrix had made on the boy, even the slightest contact would cause unending pain. Forcing Harry to stand up as he tied the boy's wrists with invisible ropes, making his arms rise above his head, Rodolphus slashed the whip across Harry's bare back.
Harry grimaced but did not utter a sound. The Death Eaters watching were unnerved by the nearly fifteen-year-old boy's pain tolerance. He had suffered multiple Cruciatus Curses by the Lestranges and Voldemort himself, had been the subject of numerous other torture curses, had his entire upper body covered with deep cuts from where Bellatrix had used a knife, and now, he did not utter a sound as Rodolphus whipped him?
Rodolphus frowned. He increased the strength of the whip as the whip impacted Harry's body again.
Harry grunted, more tears rolling down his cheeks, but did not say anything. He took two more whips before he began screaming in pain as the whip hit him in the chest. Deep gashes formed on his back, chest and stomach as the whip impacted him. Harry was sure he would die from the excruciating pain and his heart filled with emotion at the thought of never seeing Daphne and Dylan again. Unending, irrational hatred filled his heart and he vowed to kill Voldemort one day… if he survived the night.
"It is done, master," said Rodolphus, ignoring the bloody, beaten, unconscious boy on the ground.
"Good, take your place," ordered Voldemort. He got up from his throne and pushed Harry on his back. Touching the boy's face with his foot, he shook his head.
"Such power, such intelligence, such handsome looks… tsk tsk… what a waste. If only you had decided to join me, Harry. Maybe I should have held back on the torture. I did want to duel you; see what the Duelling Champion is made of."
Just as Voldemort turned around, he heard a groan. All of them watched in disbelief as Harry tried to get up. For two whole minutes, he was unsuccessful, but he finally managed to stand on both feet, supported by a large gravestone.
"I'll d-d-duel you," he rasped out, the effects of the Cruciatus Curse causing him to stutter. "If t-that's what you want, I'll duel you. I won't go d-d-down without a f-fight."
"My, my," said Voldemort, smirking. "You certainly have quite a tolerance to pain, Harry. Fine, I'll humour you."
Removing Harry's wand from within his robes, he tossed it in the air. Harry wandlessly summoned it to his left hand, his right still helping him lean on the gravestone.
Holding his wand tightly, Harry looked around the graveyard which would help him fight Voldemort, but he doubted he would be able to perform any complex charm or transfiguration or even move, for that matter. His strength lay in his ability to dodge and move around, but that was impossible considering his present state. However, there was one particular spell he knew he would be able to use effectively.
"First we bow to each other," said Voldemort teasingly. "Come now, Harry. Sirius and Amelia would want you to show manners. The godson of the Minister of Magic couldn't be found lacking!"
Harry bowed slightly but remained stationary.
"Very well," said Voldemort. "Now, we -"
Before he could finish, a very familiar jet of green light came towards him. Snarling, Voldemort cast his own Killing Curse, mentally amazed that the boy was able to use the Killing Curse silently even after being so badly injured. The Death Eaters scrambled for cover as the jets of light flew in all directions from where the two curses met. Harry began moving back as Voldemort gained ground. He could see a hint of blue just ten feet away - the Triwizard Cup! That Portkey had been keyed to the wards!
Just as Voldemort moved closer, Harry released the curse, dived out of the way and summoned the cup. Just as it connected with him, he saw Voldemort's red eyes and heard a scream of anger and rage as he was whisked away.
...
Harry impacted the ground amidst cheers, but it soon turned into gasps and screams when they saw the state he was in; it was pretty bad. He was lying on the ground, shirtless, his pants were torn in several places and he was bleeding everywhere. Harry knew that he would fall unconscious soon, but he needed to tell someone, anyone.
"Harry!" yelled Sirius as he moved forward, holding the boy's shoulders to support him. People were now surrounding them, muttering about what could have happened. "Harry, please, talk to me, son. Someone get a healer, NOW!"
"S-S-Sirius," he choked out. "V-V-Voldemort is back. B-B-Barty Crouch is an imp-p-poster!"
That was all Harry said before he fainted in his godfather's arms.
....
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