Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort, aka You-Know-Who, was in a very pleasant mood. Having just achieved the impossible, and in front of the audience he loathed the most, he couldn't help but act smug about it, completely breaking the edgelord persona he usually carried, even laughing aloud.
"Death Eaters… heed my summons…"
Harry also followed the Dark Lord's line of sight to the sky. It looked ready to burst into rain at any moment, with thin flashes of lightning flickering now and then, nothing unusual… but then faint green sparks began to appear. They were not deep in the clouds, but lower, perhaps a few hundred metres above.
They flickered, then thickened, twisting into dark smoke that began to coil and drift toward the graveyard. Harry counted six, maybe seven, at a glance, a few even coming from the big house on the hill, rushing toward them.
Soon, the soft swish of cloaks echoed through the graveyard, not a lot though, a dozen at most, slipping in between the graves.
Harry's eyes moved over their faces, but he couldn't recognize any of them. Half of them had thick beards and looked wild, like they haven't bathed in weeks, each wearing an unhinged expression.
Only a few looked normal, almost. Then, one by one, they stepped forward slowly, their expressions full of awe, as though they could hardly believe what they were seeing.
The first one fell to his knees. He had perhaps the wildest face of them all, flicking his tongue out again and again as though he were imitating a snake. He crawled toward Voldemort and pressed his lips to the hem of his black robes.
"Master… Master…" he murmured.
The others then followed, each approached on their knees, kissed Voldemort's robes, then retreated, rising to form a silent circle. It enclosed the grave of Tom Riddle, Harry himself, Voldemort, oh, and the sobbing, twitching thing that was Wormtail.
Voldemort slowly turned his head, looking around at the hooded faces. Though there was no wind, a faint rustling passed through them, as if the entire circle had shivered.
"Welcome, my friends…" said the Dark Lord. "Thirteen years… thirteen years since we last stood together like this… your Lord, in the flesh, standing before you. It pleases me to see that we still remain united beneath the Dark Mark…"
He tilted his head slightly, his slit-like nostrils flaring as he drew in a slow breath. "However…" he murmured, "why do I smell… guilt?" his lips curled faintly.
"I see you all, whole, and so swift to answer my call… and I cannot help but wonder… why did none of you come to the aid of the master to whom you swore eternal loyalty, when he needed you most?"
No one answered, or maybe they did not dare.
"Perhaps some of you believed me broken, thought me gone, and so slunk back among my enemies, pleading innocence, ignorance… even bewitchment… And yet… I do not entirely fault you for having taken such measures…"
Voldemort slowly let his gaze pass over the hooded figures one by one, "indeed… how could you have believed I would rise again, when you did not know the measures I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death?"
The Death Eaters stood in silence, heads bowed, whether out of guilt or because they had nothing to say, only they knew.
"However… I must confess myself… disappointed…"
The Dark Lord's intimidation was super effective against his Death Eaters, although he was only speaking and pointing out a few things, he was no less terrifying.
One of the Death Eaters seemed unable to bear the tense atmosphere, suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle, and, trembling from head to foot, collapsed at Voldemort's feet.
"Master!" he shrieked. "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"
Voldemort, however, only laughed at the display before raising his wand and blasting the man point-blank with a dose of the Cruciatus Curse. The Death Eater immediately fell to the ground, writhing and shrieking loudly… Harry also winced at the sight; having felt the curse himself, he knew it was pain unlike anything else.
The Dark Lord lowered his wand slowly, a cruel smile spreading across his unnaturally wide lips, while the tortured Death Eater lay crumpled on the ground, struggling for breath.
"Get up!"
In fact, he was barely holding back his thirst to kill, someone, anyone; thirteen years of pent-up urges had been bubbling inside him. Had it not been for the fact that these were the only thugs he had left, he would very much have liked to drop a Death Eater or two lifeless, but alas, he was so short on thugs now it was almost embarrassing to even think about it.
"Stand up I said... you ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years… I expect thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has already paid part of his debt, have you not, Wormtail?"
At the mention of his name, Wormtail, who lay on the ground sobbing over his bleeding arm, struggled to his feet and staggered forward as quickly as his fat body could.
Voldemort looked down at him condescendingly. "Yes… you returned to me, but not out of loyalty, out of fear, that is all. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, do you not?"
"Yes, Master," moaned Wormtail, "Master… please…"
"But… you have indeed done me a great service, helped return me to my body… worthless and traitorous as you are, you have helped me… and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers…"
After saying, Voldemort lifted his wand and flicked it through the air, then a streak of what looked like molten silver formed at the tip. It twisted for a moment without shape, then slowly turned into a shining human hand, pale like moonlight, which dropped down and fixed itself onto Wormtail's bleeding wrist.
The fat man's sobbing stopped immediately, replaced by shock and amazement. Slowly, he lifted his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand now fixed to his arm, as though it had always belonged there, gleaming like a polished glove.
He flexed the shining fingers, watching them move as if unsure they were real. Then, still trembling, he bent down, picked up a small twig, and crushed it effortlessly into powder.
"My Lord," he whispered. "Master… it is beautiful… thank you… thank you…" He crawled forward on his knees, pressing his lips to the hem of Voldemort's robes again and again, until even Voldemort grew repulsed and shoved him aside.
"May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail!"
"No, my Lord… never, my Lord…" Wormtail whimpered even more, crouching and lowering his head as he backed away, then took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears.
Voldemort then approached the man on Wormtail's right. Harry recognized him as the one who had brought him here, Professor Caesar's spy, apparently. But the words he heard next made his eyes widen; it was the last name he had expected to hear, Draco Malfoy's father, standing on the same side as him.
"Lucius, my slippery friend," Voldemort whispered, halting before him. He waved his hand over the man's face, and the disguise vanished like mist, revealing his true appearance.
"You have also rendered me a most valuable service. Without you, I confess, my return might not have been so… successful. For that, you shall be rewarded. Speak… what is it you desire?"
Lucius Malfoy swallowed, his throat dry, cold sweat beading on his forehead as he met those merciless eyes again after so long. Memories of the Dark Lord's cruelty surfaced, and even now, despite being part of Maverick's faction, he could not help but feel terrified.
And that somehow ended up working in his favor in that moment. The fear in his eyes was real, and seeing it, Voldemort did not even consider that he might betray him, let alone be a spy.
"M-my Lord…"
"My Lord…" Voldemort repeated, mocking his frightened tone, before sharpening, "I ask you… what is it you… desire?"
"My Lord, I…" Lucius swallowed again. "I desire only to be of your service… and nothing else."
"Interesting…" Voldemort hissed, his thin nostrils flaring as he leaned closer, as though savoring a scent. "Such fear… and guilt… I sense from you…"
But after that, he seemed to lose interest and turned toward the center, his gaze settling on the gaps between his minions where one stood apart from the next.
"The Lestranges should stand here," he said quietly. "But they are, regrettably, dead… my most loyal servant even, once again sent back to Azkaban. She, was faithful. She never renounced me… I shall storm Azkaban again, and she will be honored beyond her dreams..."
He walked on, passing some Death Eaters in silence and pausing before others to murmur a few words, until he reached the last gap, where he stood surveying it with his blank red eyes as though he could see people standing there.
"And here we have two missing Death Eaters… one, too cowardly to return… he will be killed, of course… and one who remains my most faithful servant…"
The Death Eaters stirred, and Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.
"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, behind enemy lines." He smiled thinly, then turned sharply. "Speaking of Hogwarts… ah, where are my manners…"
"Yes," said Voldemort after a pause, a grin curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle flicked toward Harry. "Harry Potter… I had almost forgotten you were here… you are, after all, the guest of honor tonight…"
Harry: &!^#*@*!^#%@*
Voldemort moved slowly forward, ignoring the muffled sounds from the gag in Harry's mouth, raised his wand and pointed it straight at him.
"Crucio!"
Pain like nothing Harry had ever known tore through him. It felt as though his bones were on fire, as though his head were splitting, his eyes rolled wildly, and there was nothing left in his mind but pain.
He wanted it to stop… to end… but more than anything… where the hell was Professor Caesar?
When the pain finally began to fade, he hung limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Voldemort's father, staring up through a haze into those bright red eyes, while the air rang with the laughter of the Death Eaters.
"You see now, I hope, the absurdity of believing this boy could ever rival me," Voldemort said. "Let there be no misunderstanding. Harry Potter escaped me once, by accident… by luck. Nothing more. And so, I shall correct that error. I will kill him here, before you all, with no one to shield him, and no sacrifice left to save him. I will, however, be generous. He shall be given a chance to fight… and you will all see, beyond doubt, who is the greater wizard..."
Lightning flashed across the graveyard the moment he finished speaking, and it only seemed to please him, as though the heavens themselves were listening. He tilted his head back, his lipless mouth stretching into a cold smile as he looked up at the dark, brooding sky.
It was perfect. The atmosphere could not have been better.
He lowered his head again and stepped back, his eyes never leaving Harry, while more lightning flashed above and distant thunder rolled across the graveyard.
"Untie him, Wormtail. Give him back his wand."
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