Chapter 3

Hidden in the shadows from his most loyal followers, a corpse-looking wizard with dark red eyes peered at them, submissively kneeling. His anger was evident in the harsh tones. "Twice now I've been stopped from gaining a new body. And each time that meddling child is the reason. Harry Potter!" Each kneeling Death Eater cringed behind their white masks, clutching the plain black robes tightly closer to their body. "I want that impertinent child removed, permanently. I want a way to keep him from interfering once again."

Not one dared to speak. They weren't that stupid to try, even if their curiosity was bordering between survival and sucidial. For ten years, their Lord had been missing and then suddenly he reappeared, calling out to his loyal followers through their Dark Mark, causing them pain and absolute obedience in meeting with him. They knew without having to stare that their Lord had only called his Inner Circle, the darkest and most loyal to him. They were also the ones who could be counted upon, knowing they would follow any intruction sent their way.

As if knowing his kneeling Inner Circle's curiosity, the red-eyed wizard explained his desires in slow, hissing tones, delighting in their flinches, "You are my most loyal Inner Circle, even though a couple are still within the walls of Azkaban. You are the ones I entrust this mission. I want Potter watched very closely. I want to know his every move. I want to know his every weakness, his every action. Is that understood?"

As one, "Yes, my lord."

"Dismissed." Not daring to push their luck, the few followers fled their Lord's sight, gratefully for not being harmed. But one follower had yet to leave, having the instinct to remain behind. "Put me in my bed, Wormtail. I must sleep, then return to your original position until I call again."

Wormtail, formally know as Peter Pettigrew, was a short, bald-headed male with watery eyes and a weak disposition. The cowardly man was once a loving, smiling student at Hogwarts before he turned against the only friends he had. The group, called the Marauders, were infamous for their tricks as well as secretly famous for their ability of being animaguses, that was all but one. He had been a small gray rat, seemingly fitting for his future life since he was as sneaky as a rat for betraying his friends. But he also had been easy prey for the Dark Lord, even too weak to go against anything his Lord wanted.

Speaking of the Dark Lord, the red-eyed wizard was being carefully tucked away in dark green silk. The ruby eyes watched his weaker follower slip away in its animal form of a rat, sneering at his follower's obvious fearful escape. Those same eyes slowly grew distant as he remembered a past so long ago.

/He was once a boy called Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. He also once went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, becoming the perfect student until he was seduced into the dark side. He had a pureblooded witch for a mother, who died giving birth to him. His father had been a very abusive Muggle towards his mother. He knew this because his father never ceased to tell him what a failure she was. But his father abandoned him the minute he learned that seven-year-old little Tom had caused things to explode during one of his tantrums and that his wife had been harboring a secret when his father-in-law made a surprise visit that same day.

His father had been outraged to learn of the secrets his wife had kept when his father-in-law told him of little Tom's heritage. But that wasn't the worse, not even Tom's grandparents wanted him, seemingly no one wanted little Tom nor had he ever found the reason as to why. Therefore, he ended up in an orphanage known to have Muggles, squibs, and unwanted purebloods who shamed their families. He had been in that orphanage since he was seven years of age.

It turned out that the owner of the orphanage hated children, espeically magical children. He believed those children to be possessed, always severely abusing them in hopes of exorcising them of their magic. When it wouldn't happen, the owner would find others who took delight in hurting children, selling the magical ones at a very reasonable price. But the owner had a secret of his own, his delight in young boys and what he could do to them. He would mention to the sellers of each one's talent, something about his sampling. Although he sold the magical ones, little Tom was never for sale. Something about him had caused him to become a chosen target of the owner, though he willingly allowed others to 'play' with little Tom.

For four years all Tom knew was pain. He became intimate with the abuse, never knowing there was any other way. He knew why he was abused, he was different. According to the owner, he was 'special' but never told how special. Then Tom turned eleven.

He learned of a new world that just might save him, only to be disappointed. The Headmaster of Hogwarts didn't seem to worry about the home life of his students, only their safety in his school. Tom was able to heal while in school, surprised each year that his owner allowed him to attend. But then again, every summer he had was returned to his so-called home; sent back to the abuse, emotional and physical, even the painful, sadistic touching of the orphanage owner. Even though he was a wizard, Tom was forbidden from performing outside of the school, threatened that he could never return. Then again something inside of Tom spoke that being sent back every summer was giving the owner more reason to be intimate in Tom's life, giving more reason to abuse him.

That hatred of the orphanage owner, who's touch he could still dream at night, festered and grew. It grew to dangerous levels, which he had a hard time to control. It was that hatred of Muggles that sent him to said orphanage on the idea of eradicating them from the world all together. It was the hatred of Wizards that gave him ideas of controlling the Magical World for never trying to save him, for never venturing out to see his home life. It was those dark days that turned Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr. into Dark Lord Voldemort, the most feared dark wizard.

And it was that hope of domination that led him to his downfall on October 31, 1981 within the home of James and Lily Potter. When he had gone to destroy those prophesized in being his equal and could destroy his reign as well as body and soul.

Oh, how he loved seeing that brilliant green light of the Killing Curse slam into James Potter's body every night in his dreams. But he hated seeing the lovely Lily falling by his wand. He wanted her to live, he actually desired her to be at his side, despite her heritage as a Muggle-born witch. She was quite the beauty; who couldn't fall for those brilliant green eyes mirroring the Killing Curse, fiery auburn strands, fierce lioness pride and temper.

She had sacrificed herself to save her only child, a son that could be a possible threat. But when he cast the Killing Curse upon the child, it rebounded from the pale forehead and tossed Voldemort from his physical being, turning him into a black shadow, forced to hibernate in the bodies of others until he could gain some type of physical form.

And since that day he had been floating around trying to find a way to return to his powerful state. It also started his obsession of avenging his failed curse against Harry Potter, who had become the Wizarding World's savior./

That obsession had led Voldemort to his recent position. He hoped to gain a new body for two years since his return to Britian but Harry Potter had foiled each time. This year Voldemort was sure he could put an end Potter's reign as savior as well as gain his own favor among the Magical World. An ending no one would ever see coming.