Part 62
Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining his own body. He took not the slightest notice of the woman, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry again, hissing. Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at the woman, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied; she fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh. Then he stalked over to them and gripped the woman's left arm. He forced up her sleeve and Harry got a look at what was hiding underneath. It was a tattoo of a skull and a snake. The same image he had seen at the World Cup finals. Voldemort kept looking at the mark, ignoring the woman's whimpers.
"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it. Now, we shall see, now we shall know."
He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on the woman's arm. As soon as he did Harry's scar started hurting again. It felt as if someone had pressed a hot knife into it, trying to split his skull. The dull ache even drowned out the screams and whimpers from the woman by his feet. When Voldemort removed his finger the once red mark was now black. He started looking around the graveyard.
"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"
He began to pace up and down before Harry and the woman, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, he looked down at Harry again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face.
"You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly. "A Muggle and a fool… Very much like your own mother. Tell me, how fare the fair Lily these days? Should my first visit be to her and that idiot you call a father?" Harry glared at the man in front of him. Voldemort only laughed and continued his pacing.
"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter?", Voldemort added after a little bit. "My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was. He didn't like magic, my father. He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born. She died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage. I vowed to find him. I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name. Tom Riddle… Listen to me, reliving family history, why, I am growing quite sentimental… But look, Harry! My true family returns!"
The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward. Slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes while Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes.
"Master" he murmured.
The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Harry, Voldemort, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was the female servant. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people. Voldemort, however, did not seem to expect more. He looked around at the hooded faces, and though there was no wind rustling seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered.
"Welcome, Death Eaters," said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years… thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we? I smell guilt. There is a stench or guilt upon the air."
A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare to step back from him.
"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact - such prompt appearances! I ask myself: why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"
No one spoke. No one moved except the woman, who was upon the ground she had stopped crying now and just sat there stoically.
"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment. And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed 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 times when I was mightier than any wizard living? And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater 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 the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them.
"It is a disappointment to me", Voldemort went on. "I confess myself disappointed."
One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.
"Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"
Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand.
"Crucio!"
The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked. Harry was sure Voldemort or the woman had put up a silencing charm, otherwise Muggle authorities would have been here by now. Harry partly wished they would be, then he realized they would be chanceless against Lord Voldemort and he wished for it no more. He did not wish for another innocent person to die. He moved his gaze from the tortured Death Eater to Dorian's body. He looked peaceful. As if he was merely sleeping and would jump up at any second, proclaiming this all a cruel joke. However Harry knew that was not the case and never would be again.
"Get up, Avery," said Voldemort softly, breaking Harry out of his musings. "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. My servant here has paid some of her debt already, have you not, woman? You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of anger towards the people you serve, isn't that right?"
"Yes, Master," the woman replied, her voice trembling just a little. "To serve my master."
"You helped return me to my body," said Voldemort coolly. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers." He waved his wand around and a streak of what looked like molten silver appeared. At first it was formless, shapeless and then it took the shape of a human hand. It attached itself upon the woman's bleeding wrist.
"My Lord," she said and got up, testing the fingers strength. "Thank you master it is the most beautiful gift I have ever received. It shall serve me and you well. With this hand I shall do my master's bidding and strike down the vermin I so loathe."
"May your loyalty never waver again," said Voldemort.
"Never my Lord", she replied and stood back in the circle. Voldemort approached a man on her right.
"Lucius, my slippery friend," he whispered, halting before him. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius. Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay, but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?"
"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your 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 sent it into the sky last summer?" said Voldemort lazily, and Mr. Malfoy stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius. You have disappointed me. I expect more faithful service in the future. "
"Of course, my Lord, of course. You are merciful, thank you."
Voldemort moved on, and stopped, staring at the space - large enough for two people - that separated Malfoy and the next man.
"The Lestranges should stand here," said Voldemort quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me. When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honoured beyond their dreams. The dementors will join us. They are our natural allies. We will recall the banished giants. I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear."
"What of the werewolves my Lord?" the woman asked, almost in disgust.
"Greyback shall be brought back to my side", Voldemort continued. "Better having a dog on a tight leach and when they are no longer useful, we can make sure the wretched beast will know its true place."
"There is a woman in Azkaban that might be useful", Mr. Malfoy spoke up and Voldemort turned to him. "A formidable murderer. She is as discrete and dangerous as she is beautiful. If we make haste she might be spared from the kiss." Harry realized who he was talking about and wished that they would be too late. That woman needed to stay where she was, with or without a soul. Voldemort looked at Malfoy before continuing his walk. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others and spoke to them.
"Macnair, destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, my female servant tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide."
"Thank you, Master. Thank you," murmured Macnair.
"And here" Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures. "We have Crabbe, you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"
They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.
"Yes, Master."
"We will, Master. "
"Ah there you are, Nott," said Voldemort quietly as he walked past a stooped figure in Mr. Goyle's shadow. Harry stared at the figure that was leaning on a cane. Theo's father was here? How? Wasn't he supposed to be on house arrest?
"My Lord, I have never renounced your name, but I was trapped within my own house so that my son would not be orphaned. He is a good wizard. I shall make sure he joins our cause."
"That will do," said Voldemort sounding pleased. "Young Theodore will make an excellent addition to our ranks."
He had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying it with his blank, red eyes, as though he could see people standing there.
"And here we have six missing Death Eaters", he said. "Three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return. He will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever. He will be killed, of course. And one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already re-entered my service."
The Death Eaters stirred, and Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.
"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight." At Hogwarts? It must have been Snape he was talking about, Snape or Karkaroff!
"Yes," said Voldemort, a grin curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle flashed in Harry's direction. "Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honour. "
There was a silence. Then the Death Eater to the right of the woman stepped forward, and Lucius Malfoy's voice spoke from under the mask.
"Master, we crave to know", he said. "We beg you to tell us… how you have achieved this, this miracle. How you managed to return to us."
"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius," said Voldemort. "And it begins - and ends - with my young friend here. "
He walked lazily over to stand next to Harry, so that the eyes of the whole circle were upon the two of them. The snake continued to circle.
"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" Voldemort said softly, his red eyes upon Harry, whose scar began to burn so fiercely that he almost screamed in agony. "You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His grandmother died in the attempt to save him - and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen. I could not touch the boy." Voldemort raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Harry's cheek. "His grandmother left upon him the traces other sacrifice. This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it, but no matter. I can touch him now."
Harry felt the cold tip of the long white finger touch him, and thought his head would burst with the pain. Voldemort laughed softly in his ear, then took the finger away and continued addressing the Death Eaters.
"I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. Aaah... pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost. But still, I was alive." Harry lsitened as Voldemort described to his Death Eater, the snake and him how he had survived. He told them of Bertha Jonkins and how Harry had been made a champion in the Tri-Wziard tournament.
"The last thing my loyal servant did was make sure that Potter reached the goal", Voldemort continued. "He reached that cup", he pointed at it and some of the Death Eaters craned their necks to see. "And was brought here. Not alone as you can see. A werewolf came with him, but he was dealt with rather quickly. And now you see me here before you, back to my full power and back to face the child whom has been called my downfall."
Voldemort moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand.
"Crucio!"
It was pain beyond anything Harry had ever experienced; his very bones were on fire; his head was surely splitting along his scar; his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end, to black out, to die. Was this the pain his uncle had gone through each month as a child? Was this the pain Blaise went through one night each month? If it was he did not envy them and if it was he now understood what they went through and he would make sure they never had to feel it again. This intense pain destroying him from the inside out. And then it was gone. He was hanging limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Voldemort's father, looking up into those bright red eyes through a kind of mist. The night was ringing with the sound of the Death Eaters' laughter.
"You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could ever have been stronger than me," said Voldemort. "But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no grandmother to die for him. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. Just a little longer, Nagini," he whispered, and the snake glided away through the grass to where the Death Eaters stood watching. "Now untie him, and give him back his wand."
TBC most of this is taken directly from the book, with some slight changes. Everything you recognize is not mine.