Lord Voldemort stirred fretfully in the bundle of robes he was wrapped in. Nagini hissed loudly, her enormous body barely fitting in the small shack they sat in on the edge of the graveyard. A strange gust of wind followed by a loud thud echoed from within the graveyard. He had arrived, Voldemort thought with a cruel smile.
"Wormtail" Voldemort whispered "It is time." He ordered, his tiny servant gingerly scooping him up and carrying him out into the night. Amongst the tombstones two boys stood, clearly unsure what was occurring, their wands drawn cautiously. A ripple of anger went through Voldemort as he saw the uninvited guest, the same moment the shorter of the boys crumbled to the floor clutching his scar in agony. "Kill the spare." Voldemort ordered angrily, there was a quick flash of green and the young man hit the floor with a loud thud. Wormtail dragged the smaller boy to the large tombstone, restraining him without difficulty. Whether his lack of resistance was through pain or shock, he neither knew nor cared.
Wormtail placed him at Harry Potter's bound feet, Voldemort stirring restlessly, impatient to have his strength returned to him after all these years. Bone of the father, flesh of the servant, blood of the enemy he chanted repeatedly in his head as Wormtail carried out his instructions, sobbing pathetically the whole time. Voldemort felt a stab of satisfaction as his servant's scream echoed into the night, his cut off hand tossed into the potion that turned a blazing red. A yelp above him told him blood had been drawn from his enemy, the final step added to the now gloriously white potion.
Plunging into the cauldron's depths Voldemort felt his feeble body writhe in agony as he reformed. Expanding, his lungs burned desperate for oxygen as his limbs twisted and contorted unnaturally. Standing, he gasped an icy breath as the cool air felt blissful on his burning lungs. Lord Voldemort was reborn, he thought victoriously, triumph running through his freshly formed veins. Caressing his body lovingly, he eyed the reason for his downfall with a cruel smile. Soon, he thought to himself, I shall end the lies of his legend. Approaching Wormtail he pressed the Dark Mark upon his arm, then paced gently as he waited, talking intermittently with his prisoner.
The quiet pops of wizards Apparating around the tombstones signalled his followers had returned. As they crawled pitifully on their hands and knees at his feet, a furious sneer worked on his lips. He resisted the temptation to paint the graveyard with their traitorous blood, to slaughter the unfaithful scumbags. They would pay, Voldemort decided, but in ways more useful than an anger outlet. He chastised them brutally, calling out their cowardice, their betrayal and their misconceptions, taking joy from the discomfort and terror he struck into them. Thirteen years and they feared him no less, he mused, pleased by this. He conjured an exquisite silver hand for the feeble Wormtail, both a gift and a burden, Voldemort knew. He then approached a tall slim figure in the circle.
"Lucius my slippery friend" He began quietly, reprimanding him for his failure to search for him, soon silencing his swift pretence of loyalty. "I expect more faithful service in future."
"Of course, my Lord, of course…you are merciful thank you…" He trailed off as Voldemort watched him. Lucius paused, Voldemort sensing his hesitation even through his collected demeanour.
"Yes Lucius?" Voldemort said lazily, knowing exactly what his servant was afraid of asking but taking sadistic pleasure from his conflict on how to proceed.
"My Lord" Lucius began slowly "…I have…information that you may find valuable….but it is possible you may already be aware…" Lucius faltered, Voldemort remaining eerily silent, giving away nothing. "My most gracious Lord, you have a child….a daughter" Lucius finished swiftly, falling silent immediately as he watched his master for a reaction. The seconds stretched on for an eternity as Voldemort regarded him silently, the eyes of his followers eyed him fearfully.
"Persephone Black." Voldemort said quietly, his mouth feeling round the sound of his daughter's name curiously. "Yes Lucius, I am aware of my daughter's existence." He went on, stepping slight to the right of Lucius, looking thoughtfully at the gap beside him. "Her mother should stand here. Bellatrix Lestrange." He said quietly, the circle holding its collective breath. "I admit, having delved deeper into the secrets of death than anyone before me, I did not believe myself able to be able to produce life. It was an outcome I foolishly did not foresee." Lord Voldemort smiled slightly at the implication of his words before continuing. "By my calculation the child was born after my downfall, but shortly before her imprisonment. However, Bellatrix did not tell me she was carrying my child." He went on, a cold anger leaking into his voice as his jaw clenched. "Perhaps she thought I would punish her. Or maybe she feared for her child, as mothers often do." He went on, talking in such a whisper the Death Eaters strained to hear him despite the surrounding silence. "If I believed she would betray me I would kill Bellatrix for her deceit, however she did not renounce me like so many of you" He said, the circle shuddering with guilt as his eyes travelled round it. "She proudly went to Azkaban in my name, and such loyalty deserves recognition." He continued "When the dementors join us, and we break her and my other loyal followers out from Azkaban, she will have her chance to explain her actions to me." He finished turning to face the rest of the circle, his back to the empty space in the circle.
"It seems Bellatrix kept Persephone secret from the entire magical world, that is, until Minerva McGonagall found her three years ago not even Albus Dumbledore knew of her existence. It appears he took extra steps to attempt to keep her true identity hidden, even from herself. Undoubtedly, he wished to keep her existence a secret from me, an attempt that remained successful until just under a year ago when my faithful servant sent me word of her." Turning back to Lucius he stopped in front of him.
"As I understand it you are well acquainted with Persephone?" He asked.
"Yes my Lord, she currently resides at my family home, Malfoy Manor." Lucius replied promptly.
"How would you describe your relationship with her?" Voldemort asked, as the masked man hesitated briefly.
"Our relationship is more of a business one than a familial one." He answered.
"She does not like you?" Voldemort asked, an amused look on his face.
"No my Lord, I do not think so. However, she respects the influence I hold, and to use her phrase, she considers me 'useful'." He said, flinching as Voldemort let out a cold laugh.
"She is smart then." He said smiling.
"Yes my Lord." Lucius confirmed. "Persephone…or Penny as she prefers…has a much closer relationship with my wife, Narcissa, and even more so with my son Draco." He went on. "I would say Draco and Penny are close to siblings." Voldemort nodded slowly considering this.
"Interesting. My faithful servant has told me that in both looks and personality, Persephone is strikingly similar to Bellatrix. Smart and powerful, with my gift of Parseltongue. I never intended to produce progeny, and yet, I admit myself intrigued." Voldemort said "I look forward to meeting her myself, but your insight is valued Lucius. Tell me, do you think dear Persephone will readily join our ranks?" Voldemort asked, his eyes piercing to Lucius' hood intently. Before the blond man could respond however there was a muffled noise from the tombstone. Looking round Voldemort saw Harry struggling furiously against his restraints. "Something to say Potter?" Voldemort said with a leer, a flick of his wand removing the gag from the young boy's mouth.
"She'll never join you!" Harry shouted angrily as Voldemort laughed.
"Ah yes, my servant told me all about your pitiful infatuation with my Persephone." Voldemort sneered approaching the bound boy. "The Boy Who Lived in love with the daughter of Lord Voldemort. A beautifully ironic tragedy. Tell me, Harry, does she love you in return?" Voldemort asked, his blood red eyes staring intently into Harry's brilliant green ones. Voldemort laughed his cruel laugh as he read the hurt and inadequacy that danced in the heart broken teen's eyes. "I thought not." He sneered turning back to his followers. "What say you Lucius?" He asked once more. Glancing at the bound boy Lucius considered his answer.
"Despite my wife's and I's best attempts, Persephone remains stubborn in her lax views on blood purity. She readily makes friends with Mudbloods and halflings alike." Lucius said, his lip curling in distaste. "She is extremely mistrustful of anyone in power. She is also head strong and arrogant with her gifts. She will not be easily won over." Lucius concluded. Voldemort nodded slowly, considering this information.
"Not easily perhaps. But she is young, and the young can be taught far more readily than the old." Voldemort mused to himself. "I look forward to meeting her. I am sure she will come to realise her place is at my side." Voldemort said "And if she cannot be taught, then regretfully I shall have to dispose of her. Which would be a pity." He concluded, his face free of remorse.
Voldemort began walking around his circle, addressing a few of his followers before moving on. Reaching the largest gap, Lucius spoke up to ask how he had managed to return to them and he explained. His story featured Harry and his mother many times and his possession of animals and Quirrell before Wormtail came along and the grand plan around the Triwizard Tournament. Afterwards he instructed Wormtail to release Harry and return his wand, torturing his prisoner whilst his followers laughed.
"Hurts doesn't it Harry?" Voldemort mocked as Harry panted. "It shall be a curse I teach dear Persephone, do you think she will take to it as well as her mother?" He jeered as Harry's face twisted in rage. "I asked you a question. Answer me! Imperio!"
Answer she will….say she will…
She won't, Harry replied in his head, she won't.
Say she will
She won't. "SHE WON'T!" Harry yelled aloud shocking Voldemort and his followers in his ability to overthrown Voldemort's control.
"Won't she?" Voldemort said quietly. "You think she will disobey me the same as you? Everybody breaks eventually Harry, perhaps I should remind you" He said raising his wand. Throwing himself aside Harry dodged the curse, cracking harmlessly on the tomb. Moments later, the two wands connected, the gold link and the echoes of spells erupting around them. Voldemort watched in horror as dark figures emerged from his wand, taunting him as they circled.
"Death waits for you" Bertha hissed as she circled him, her fear long forgotten.
"Your time is near" Whispered Frank as he past, making Voldemort recoil. When Harry broke the connection the figure encircled Voldemort, making him shriek in fear, unable to think of a curse that can hurt the dead. Seeing the boy running Voldemort screamed in fury.
"Stun him!" He ordered, his followers and him giving chase. His long legs soon saw him leading the pack as Harry tugged helplessly at Cedric's body. Voldemort raised his wand as the Cup whizzed through the air.
"Avada Kedavra!" He yelled with fury, knowing even as he shouted the curse he was too late, the boy vanishing in a whirl of colour. "NO!" He screamed, the ground around him cracking as his rage flooded his system. He had been thwarted yet again, outdone by chance and pure luck. Now he would know.
Spinning round his followers all instinctively threw themselves to the floor as his curse shot over their heads, shattering the tombstone of his father. Releasing a few more curses he raised his wand up the nearby hill where the Riddle house stood. The huge Manor erupted into cursed flames as the Dark Lord screamed into the night, his followers whimpering at his feet.
Many miles away Harry hit the hard ground, as gasps and screams filled the air around him.