Rain lashed the graveyard, turning ash to mud. Harry knelt over Cedric’s body, wand trembling in his hand, as the cauldron bubbled with grotesque life. Wormtail raised the knife. The ritual began.\n\nThis time, Harry didn’t wait. He lunged—not for escape, but for the altar. Green light exploded. Pain tore through him. And then… silence.\n\nHe stood before a figure cloaked in starless void. 'You have died twice,' Death said. 'Now I offer a third path: return, rewrite, redeem. But to save all you loved, you must love the one you were meant to kill.'\n\nA vision flashed—Tom Riddle, not as Voldemort, but as a boy with sad eyes and a voice like cracked glass. 'Will you try to understand me?'\n\nHarry gasped awake in the graveyard, younger, whole—and holding a memory not his own. The Dark Mark burned on his arm. And in his chest, a foreign pulse: another soul, whispering.