A/N: The Dark Lord shall rise again. I do not own Harry Potter.
Submission for:
The Weird Prompt Strikes Back! [Daily Competition]: [restriction] fic must be entitled "Blood of the Covenant"
Hogwarts Houses Challenges: The Quidditch Pitch - Avada Kedavra
Hogwarts Houses Challenges: Drabble Club - cauldron
He had been waiting alone in this graveyard for a while now, waiting for the moment when everything would begin. After almost fifteen years, a new age was coming and he was standing right at the precipice, about to take the final plunge, whether he was fully ready or not.
The wind blew through the tombstones and monuments around him, sending a chill skittering across his skin. He shivered, though was unable to draw his cloak closer, his hands laden with his charge. Merlin forbid he should drop such precious cargo.
I would have your head, echoed through his ears, sending a dull throb through his skull and he let out a soft sound of fright and pain. For a moment, he had forgotten his thoughts were never private, not from him.
A bright light flashed before two bodies appeared, their wide eyes peering through the fog of the graveyard and their frantic cries breaking the silence. Two? No, this wouldn't do. This would ruin everything and-
Kill the spare, the Dark Lord said in his arms and he wasted no time, aiming his wand at the extra body.
"Avada Kedavra," he hissed, his mouth curling when he heard it hit the ground, never to rise again. Before the other could react, the boy was restrained, struggling against the stone holding him in place.
Everything was in place and now, it was his time to shine. He turned to the simmering cauldron nearby and dropped his charge into the bubbling water. The liquid turned a murky brown before he turned to the excavated grave to his right.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son," he cried, raising an ivory bone out of the ground and dropping it into the potion.
Then he gulped, looking down at his own right hand. This had been the part that had made him hesitate when he first heard of this plan, but sacrifices had to be made, and he had already come this far. There was no going back now.
"Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed, you will revive your master," he said, placing the knife at his wrist and turning away. A scream ripped from his throat as he pulled the blade cleanly through the bone and his hand fell into the liquid. He clutched the bleeding stump to his chest, taking a few harsh breaths before he turned to his captive. Now the final ingredient, to seal the covenant and bring his Lord to new life.
He advanced on the young boy, ignoring the pang in his heart as he recognized James' hair and Lily's eyes. Their deaths had been his fault, he had been the one to betray them. But it had been their lives versus his, and he would make the same decision now when it came to their son.
He pierced the boy's body, a soft hiss reaching ears as he withdrew the knife. The light of fire reflected off the red droplets staining the blade as he returned to the cauldron and held it over the liquid.
"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe," he whispered, as if to a lover, the drops falling one by one. This was it.