The manor was quiet. Bellatrix was out hunting up a muggle for entertainment later. Lucius was overseeing his businesses so as to ensure a steady flow of funds. Wormtail was out spying or more likely just hiding in a dark hole somewhere. The Lestranges were just out. All of the other Death Eaters were either out tending to their cover lives, on missions for him, or otherwise occupied in the efforts to secure the world for him. This night was one of the very rare times when no one was actively groveling at his feet, begging for mercy, screaming under his wand, or conniving for his favor. A detestably boring and dull night, one that always led to introspection.
Voldemort looked into the mirror at his new body and sighed. For weeks after the resurrection ritual and his failed duel with Potter, anytime he caught sight of his reflection, his anger would surface and he often struck out at his followers for trivial matters, especially Wormtail, the "master" of the ritual.
Even now, he looked over his slightly deformed body and remembered his youthful appearance. For the first time in weeks, he did so without the surge of anger that usually accompanied his thoughts. Muggles would refer to this as an acceptance point in a long psychiatric treatment for a serious case of trauma. Voldemort, of course, didn't know this and probably wouldn't have cared in any case. While looking over the miserable excuse for a body he had now, he though back to the ritual and wondered about what was the actual turning point in the process where things went wrong. His research into the spells had shown that this was never the outcome of the ritual; that it either failed horribly or went perfectly. This half state was highly unusual.
He considered the information he had gained since then. The easiest point of blame, and now frequent target of the Cruciatis, was Wormtail for being less than "willing" to give up his flesh. If the idiot could cut off his own finger to save himself from Black, why didn't the rat cut off another finger to revive his master? The ritual didn't call for his entire hand. That was just stupidity on the rat's part. Of course, the key was more about the "willingly given" part. The fact that Wormtail gave his hand as much out of fear as any other form of loyalty may have been what corrupted the ritual's intent. Perhaps Bellatrix would have been a much better choice. After all, her loyalty was absolute. Insane? Yes, but absolute all the same. Of course, a female servant's flesh might have had other consequences beyond the obvious ones this ritual had already manifested.
But other information was also both disturbing and enlightening. Voldemort recently learned about the encounter between Potter and the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. Apparently, during the ensuing battle, Potter was bitten by the monstrous snake and would have died except for a phoenix's tears. Quite enlightening to know that the legend that had always surrounded the tears and the venom was actually true, but was trivial compared to other information about them. While the tears did indeed save Potter's life, it did not remove the venom from his blood. Nagini had confirmed this later when she smelled her master and informed him that the elements of Potter's blood included the venom of the great snake and the tears of the phoenix in perfect balance with each other. This made Potter immune to poisons of any type while also making his blood a dangerous thing to be flinging around.
Voldemort frowned while thinking about this. Was the basilisk venom the mistake? The tears? Wormtail's perfidy? Why was his body this horrid mess?
With a sigh, he realized that it really didn't matter in the end. He was stuck with this ghastly parody of a human shell for the foreseeable future. Did he really want to keep this dark lord thing going like this anymore? Were these damnedable pureblood sheep really worth ruling over?