Authors note: This is a one shot. R&R guys.
He felt cold. He was always cold these days, even though there was a roaring fire burning brightly in the grate, he shivered. The flames danced, throwing the small room into sharp relief. His small form reclined on a high backed chair, covered in blankets.
The cushions were soft and comfortable. He took a deep breath and the smell of age and decay pervaded his nostrils. It was high time he did something about it. He started to move and fell back in exhaustion. Oh, how he missed the days when he was strong and fit, the days when he was the personification of power.
But, he was patient. He would overcome his weakness in time. For now, he would wait for his servant to return from wherever he had scurried to.
That sad excuse of a man would have to apply his meager skills better. Even in his current state, he refused to live like a pathetic fool. He would have all the comforts he needed, or so help his idiot of a servant. He would need to teach the fool the meaning of pain.
He feebly looked around for his pet. It was nowhere to be found. A pity. Its presence would have been a great comfort.
He sat back and tried to make himself more comfortable. The roar of the fire and his discomfort receded into the background as his mind set about thinking of his plans. He knew the method that had to be used if he wanted to rise again to his former glory.
Only, the path that needed to be taken to achieve his goals had not been clear. Luckily, his servant had, with a brilliance he not expected of him, stumbled upon someone who not only had given him a way to test his long unused powers, but also proved to be a goldmine of very useful information.
The valuable information extracted from that now dead fool would be of much use to him. In it were the means to gain a trustworthy individual to carry out his plans, the plans that were crystallizing under the direction of his mind. A mind that had only grown and become stronger under the torment he had suffered over the past decade and more. There must be no loose ends. His very existence depended on it.
After a few more minutes of deep contemplation, he slowly smiled as the last few pieces of this plan clicked into place. Yes, it would succeed. He took another deep breath and the dust in the air almost made him sneeze. He ruthlessly quashed the reflex.
No, this would not do. He would conquer his weakness.
He slowly lifted his arm from the confines of the blanket that covered him and concentrated on the well of power that lay dormant inside him. A wooden stick, bone white in color slapped into his palm. With it in hand the power inside him rose in a mighty wave to do it's masters bidding.
Under his iron willed direction, the power responded and with a muttered incantation, roared out. Only a muted flash signaled the powers action as it swept across the room. The dust and grime in the room vanished with hardly a sound. The smell of decay was replaced with the smell of rich, dark mahogany wood. The cold that had plagued him receded under the onslaught of his might.
Crimson eyes glittered in unbridled joy at the feel of his magic. Yes, let his servant and pet return. He was ready to start moving his pieces into place. After fourteen years of a tortured existence, misery and failure, he would succeed.
He was Lord Voldemort and he would rise again, greater and more terrible than ever before.