This story takes place in the summer after the Goblet of Fire, before the events of the Order of the Phoenix happen.
Lord Voldemort Needs a Confidence Boost
The Dark Lord shut himself off in his private quarters to ponder his current situation. Nagini, his faithful snake, slithered up next to his feet and curled itself around his ankles. Voldemort affectionately petted his snake, his loyal companion. There were so many things that had to be done, so many mistakes that had to be corrected. He had to start from the bottom once again.
Voldemort looked at his new face in the mirror. The spell had worked; he had a body once more. Yet he was not content. Voldemort understood that in order to be the great wizard that he was he had to make certain sacrifices, but this… this was downright pitiful. He knew he should be grateful he at least had a body. He shuddered as he remembered how he was reduced to sharing a head with that idiot, Quirrell. And then, again, when he was forced to rely on an even bigger idiot: Wormtail. How day after day he saw him flinch every time he saw him, and how he cringed when he was forced to touch him. Wormtail tried to hide it, but Lord Voldemort sees all. He saw the dread in his face when he sent him to do his bidding.
Voldemort wistfully picked up a picture of him as a young man. He remembered how handsome he used to be. He remembered how he had charmed everyone around him and had how easy it was to gain influence. Now he had to rebuild all of that, all his followers, everything. Thank you so much, Harry Potter, for making his life just a tad more difficult. He sighed and his eyes flickered up back again to the mirror. Inside of him, deep, deep inside, where the last fragment of his broken soul lay, a tiny part of him died. He knew he should not be so vain, but he couldn't help it.
He had no hair, no eyebrows, no eyelashes, no nose, he was pale, his skin was leathery and disgusting. And he had Wormtail's hands and feet… his ugly claw like ratty digits. He cursed himself for not picking a better looking servant to perform the ritual. But what could he do? It was slim pickings and Lord Voldemort had been alone. His precious Death Eaters had not been there, none of them had even tried to extend a hand in his time of need. He laughed bitterly. Was he really so unwanted? Well then, they'd just have to deal with him because he was Lord Voldemort! He did not simply go away. He, who has no second thoughts of murdering anyone, he who has a cave full of Inferi at his bidding, he who was the only one to ever come close to killing the great Albus Dumbledore, he who had gone so far as to fracture his own soul!
He could make them do anything he wanted. Of course, it was mostly out of fear that they obeyed him rather than loyalty but it makes no difference! Fear and respect come hand in hand. He still had Severus on his side and Lucius and…. Oh yes. And Bellatrix. Bella had always, er, serviced him well. In fact, she had worshipped at his very altar! She would not be repulsed by him now. No, she would be in awe! Yes. That's it.
Azkaban, here comes Voldy!