It was hot.
Heat rose around him.
Steam hissed around his ears.
The water was propelling him upwards. He could feel his body growing. His arms and legs once so thin and frail grew longer and stronger. Thick white steam rose from the cauldron and he rose with it elated with all the happiness of the world.
"Robe me," he called to Wormtail who scurried forwards with his long black robes fumbling to get them over his head with just his left hand. His stump of a right hand flailing uselessly.
But just at that moment, or for that matter any moment, Wormtail was not important enough to be the object of his attention.
No, at that moment his focus was directed entirely at the boy trapped by his father's tomb.
Harry Potter.
His mess of black hair hung in his face. Blood dripped from the cut on his arm. His robes were dirty and ripped. But his eyes, his eyes shone like little fires and they were staring back at him with a mixture of revulsion and terror.
Then, he turned his attention inward. Examining his own new body. It felt odd. Different than how he had felt before. He was thin to the point of almost looking sickly. His skin was whiter that than before. His long thin fingers looked almost like bones as they held his wand.
Nevertheless he was human again.
He was back.
Lord Voldemort was finally back.
He was in raptures by his own body. How good it felt to have a human body again.
Wormtail was still sniveling, cowering before him.
He felt distinctly annoyed. He raised his wand gently and with a flick sent Wormtail flying across the graveyard, slamming into his father's grave not three feet from Potter.
Potter flinched, and Wormtail slumped to the ground.
But he just laughed. High, cold, and cruel. He had returned. He's assent to power would be quick and fast. There would be no mistakes this time. His time would come just as soon as he called them to him.
He turned to Wormtail who was still shamelessly crying over what used to be his hand. His robes where covered in blood.
"My Lord, My Lord," he sobbed. "You promised, you did promise."
Voldemort was vaguely annoyed at being reminded what he promised, when he was not sure he was going to grant it. Especially when there were more important things to attend to. "Hold out arm," he said in an almost lazy voice to disguise his annoyance.
Wormtail, obviously believing he meant to fix his stump of an arm, held out his right hand. But although as amusing this misconception may be that was not Voldemort's intentions. He laughed again before saying softly, "The other arm Wormtail."
"Master," Wormtail blubbered. "Please, pleeease."
Impatiently Voldemort grabbed Wormtail's left arm and pushed the sleeve of his robes rough up past the elbow.
There it was. His mark, shining like rubies on Wormtails skin. He bent to examine it further.
"It is back," he whispered softly. "They will all have noticed it. And now we shall see, now we shall know." He raised a long white forefinger and pressed it to the Mark.
Wormtail let out a fresh scream and somewhere behind him, Voldemort thought he heard the Potter child scream too. But it didn't matter. The ruby mark turned the color of onyx on the blackest of nights.
They all would have felt it burn. They all should be on their way.
With an air of satisfaction Voldemort straighten and glanced around the grave. "How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it," he wondered aloud to no one in particular. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away."
He glanced at the stars, but there was no hint of movement. Averting his eyes from the heavens, Voldemort began to pace back and forth occasionally glancing around. After a while he tired of this and turned to the boy tied to his father's tomb. "You stand Harry Potter," he began. "On the remains of my late father. A Muggle and a fool."
At the mention of his father, Voldemort's voice changed to more of a hiss than a whisper but he continued. "Very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child, and I killed my father. And see how useful he has proven himself in death."
He began to pace again. "Listen to me," he said realized how silly he must sound regaling tales of the past. "Reliving family history. Why I'm growing quite sentimental." Voldemort paused briefly at the sound of a distant pop. "But look Harry, my true family returns."
All around the air was filled with the familiar sound of wizards Apparating and the swishing sounds of their cloaks as they crept closer in shocked disbelief at the sight of him, which could not be hidden even from behind there masks. They all stood there for a moment.
Had they forgotten?
Finally Nott fell to his knees and crawled forward kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes.
"Master," he whispered. "Master."
At the sight of him the rest of the Death Eaters followed suit until Voldemort was surrounded by people on their knees kissing the hem of his robes. Voldemort relaxed. So they had not forgotten, he thought as each backed away into their spot forming a circle around him and his father's grave.
But there were gaps. At least 15 people were noticeably missing. But Voldemort didn't bother waiting. The ones that weren't there, were not coming.
"Welcome Death Eaters," Voldemort said addressing the group of hooded masked figures in all around him. "Thirteen years since last me met. Yet you answer my call as if it was yesterday. We are still united under the Dark Mark then? Or are we?"
At the last three word's Voldemort's voice grew noticeably harsher than before. He put his head back and sniffed the air.
"I smell guilt. There is a stench of guilt upon the air. I see you all whole and healthy, with your powers intact. Such prompt appearances. And I ask myself why this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore internally loyalty."
He paused for a long moment before continuing. "And I answer myself; they must have believed me broken. They thought I was gone. They slipped back in among my enemies and they pleaded innocence and ignorance and bewitchment.
"But then I ask myself, how could they believe I would not rise again? They who knew the steps I took long ago, to guard myself against mortal death, they who had seen proof of the immensity of my power in the time when I was mightier than any wizard living. And I answer myself; perhaps they believed any even great power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort. Perhaps they now pay allegiance to another. Perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods, and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore."
At this many around the circle began to stir, shaking their heads and starting to protest, but he paid them no mind.
"It is a disappointment to me. I confess myself disappointed."
At that, Avery flung himself forward at Voldemorts feet babbling a plea for forgiveness.
Voldemort laughed, "Crucio!" he said pointing his wand at Avery who shrieked and writhed in pain on the ground. After a few moments he whispered, "Stand up Avery. Stand up. You ask for forgiveness. I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years. I want thirteen years repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail has paid some of his debt already. Have you not, Wormtail. You returned to me. Not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain Wormtail. You know that don't you?
"Yes master," Wormtail whimpered. "Please master please."
Voldemort looke down with distain at the man he had to depend on for so many long months. "Yet you helped me return to my body. Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me, and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers."
Voldemort waves his wand and watched as a shining silver hand attached itself to Wormtails arm.
"My lord," Wormtail began in tranced by the silver hand. He had stopped crying. "Master it is beautiful thank you, thank you."
"May your loyalty never waver again Wormtail."
"No my lord, never my lord." Wormtail looked as if he could continue in this manner all night but Voldemort didn't have time for such a thing. He turned away from Wormtail who finally got up and took his place in the circle.
Voldemort began to walk around the circle. "Lucius my slippery friend," he said to Malfoy. "I am told you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You were still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle torture. Yet you never tried to find me. Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun I dare say. But might your energies have been better directed towards finding and aiding you master."
"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert. Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of you whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately. Nothing could have prevented me."
"And yet you ran from my mark, when a faithful Death Eater send it into the sky last summer." Lucius looked slightly shocked. "Yes I know all about that Lucius. You have disappointed me. I expect more faithful service in future.
"Of course my lord, of course." Lucius seemed relieved. "You are merciful thank you."
The spots next to Lucius were empty. He came to a stop in front of them. "The Lestranges should stand here." Bellatrix and her husband. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful." She was faithful. It was quite obvious to him that the Lestranges efforts to find him were entire due to her efforts.
Voldemort continued, "They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me. When Azkaban is broken open the Lestranges shall be honored beyond their dreams." Yes they would. That would make her happy. His most loyal. His Bella would like that indeed. But he did not linger in front of her spot.
Voldemort moved on saying, "The dementors will join us. They are our natural allies. We will recall the banished giants. I shall have all my devoted servants return to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear."
He passed several of the Death Eaters in silence, their frightened beady eyes following him apprehensively. He stopped in from of some, giving a few comments, a few reprimands here and there. Finally he stopped in front of the largest gap in the circle.
"And here we have six missing Death Eaters," Voldemort began softly. "Three dead in my service," Rosier, Wilkes and Black, the traitorous Black, perhaps one of the biggest disappointments. Voldemort continued his speech. "One to cowardly to return; he will pay." Snape. "One whom I'm afraid as left me forever; he will be killed." Karkaroff. "And one remains my most faithful servant, and who has already re-entered my service." Crouch. But the others didn't know this. They were all looking confused. Some glanced at Wormtail. Others seemed to be trying to guess which of the men that used to stand there, he meant.
"He is at Hogwarts that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived tonight." They all glanced at Potter. "Yes Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go as far as to call him my guest of honor."
There was silence. Lucius finally broke it. He step forward and said, "Master, we crave to know, we beg you to tell us how you achieved this, this miracle. How you managed to return to us."
Voldemort smiled and he began to regale the long story that led up to that night. About everything. About Harry Potter and his mother. About being ripped from his body. About surviving only as barely spirit, possessing animals, merely to exist. About that foolish wizard and his failed attempt to acquire the Sorcerer's Stone. About how Wormtail, out of cowardice, came to find him. About Bertha Jorkins and her useful information. About the magic that restored him to a weak body. About how he placed a faithful Death Eater inside Hogwarts to get close to Potter and kidnap him. And finally about the dark spell that fully restored him to his body and his powers.
He was happy.
His Death Eaters wouldn't waver again, now that they'd seen his power at escaping even death.
This time there would be no mistakes.
This time would not fail.