Author's Note: OooooooOoooOo things about to escalate. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter rights belong to J.K Rowling. I am simply having fun with my imagination. Thanks

...He moved quickly, knowing that soon Dumbledore and the others would come to the boy's aid. The boy—he seemed to always have someone aiding him. Whatever happened to loyalty? Tom did not stop to think about this. He was gone from the chamber. Gone from the castle. Gone from his life, yet again...

CHAPTER 32: A SERVANT'S RETURN

So…back in the forest again. How wonderful.

He moved along the cold of the woods, feeling sorry for himself again. What had he been reduced to? Well, it had been a long shot. Quirrell had after all been nothing but a pathetic, stuttering little half blood. At least he was gone and dead. But Tom had been so close to getting the stone! And the boy…he had gotten so close to him. He could have killed him. If only he had a body…he wouldn't finished him for good.

The only good that had come out of this last year was seeing Severus again and knowing that he, unlike so many of the others, had not changed one bit in the Dark Lord's absence. And it pleased Tom very much to know that Severus was making Potter's life difficult, however petty his ways were. At least something was being done by someone in the Dark Lord's absence.

But now, Tom was back to square one. He was back where he had been before Quirrell's introduction. And, as though it were at all possible, he was now even weaker than before. He barely had any strength to carry on, much less possess any animals. Though, the snakes that he occasionally found lingering about the forest did give him a tiny bit of energy. Still, it was nothing compared to what he once had, long ago, before everything had crumbled to nothingness. And it was probably foolish of him to hope that he would ever have that again. He wondered, as he stayed under the tree and watched the rain drip from the leaves, whether Dumbledore knew where he was hiding. And, if so, why hadn't he come for him?

TWO YEARS PASS

The snake was being very stubborn. She seemed to have sensed that Tom had chosen her as his next place of refuge. She did not seem to want to stay still. But Tom was ever so clever and cunning. He stayed still and very quiet, fooling the snake into believing that he had forgotten about her. Then, when the snake was convinced that he had and she moved closer, Tom grasped her quickly and forced himself inside. The snake coiled and hissed loudly as though she were having a seizure. And then, she grew quiet.

"Attagirl," said Tom, already inside her.

He hissed his way through the woods, looking for prey. It was yet another lonely summer. Tom had grown so used to these woods that he knew his way around too well. Like it or not, it had become his home, and there was a very good chance that it would always remain his home.

His Death Eaters had turned out to be the worst sort of traitors. None of them remembered him—not a single one. He knew he could count on Severus to remain loyal, but Severus' position was very complicated. It would be a suicide mission to try and contact him, with Dumbledore right at his side. But Tom had given up hope a long time ago. He was sure that he would remain in the forest for the rest of time and that his Death Eaters would eventually die off, after having lived their warm, comfortable lives. Those who were in Azkaban however, were probably not that much worse off than Tom. Dementors, after all, were not pleasant creatures at all when they didn't have Tom to guide them.

Tom had stopped counting the days a couple of months ago but he was still sure that it was somewhere mid-July at the moment. For the most part, it was fairly warm out and the forest animals were always hopping around. Some of them knew Tom too well by now and tried hard to stay clear of him. He must have possessed and killed over ten thousand animals in his time there. How very cruel of him.

One day, he found himself unable to think of anything other than Harry Potter. He must have just finished his third-year at Hogwarts. Tom sincerely hoped that Severus had given him a particularly hard time. He wondered what the boy had been up to. Was he nearly as clever or intelligent as Tom had been at that age? Was his hatred for Tom growing? Was he planning some sort of revenge anytime soon? Nothing would excite Tom more than to face him once again.

Somewhere in the distance, a twig snapped. Someone was coming. Not another Quirrell, thought Tom. Please not another Quirrell.

He waited. Whoever it was, they'd decided not to show themselves, so Tom decided to stay put. He didn't exactly have the strength or energy to go chasing after them. Though, it would be nice to possess another human again. Humans after all had greater lifespans than animals and therefore more energy to provide Tom with. These days, he was finding it difficult to even breathe, let alone move or think.

The forest had been a great home to him, but he wanted nothing more than to get out already. Every tree he laid upon suddenly grew very old. Every leaf he touched died instantly. Everywhere he was, things darkened and weakened. He knew his soul was too strong and too influential for all life in the forest. But for him, his soul was nothing without his powers. The only powers he'd been able to keep were his ability to possess things and to speak Parseltongue. Oh how he missed his wand.

Another twig snapped. Tom wheeled around and stared at the trees behind him.

"Whoever you are, show yourself!" he demanded into the quiet of the woods.

And then, quite unexpectedly, a short man came from behind a thick tree trunk. He was staring at Tom with such an expression of gratitude. He slowly moved towards him and then knelt down beside him and bowed low.

"M-master!" he cried.

He was literally crying. Tears were streaming all over his face. The man was in a complete state of shock and delight. Tom stared at him, wondering at first if he was a ghost and then deciding that he was as alive as Quirrell had been.

"Hello again, Wormtail," said Tom, coolly.

"Oh m-master, how l-long it's been!" gasped Wormtail. "How f-far I have gone in search for you!"

"Oh really?" said Tom. "And exactly how long have you been searching for me, Wormtail?"

"Just a little over a month, master!" exclaimed Wormtail. "I have been in hiding all this time."

"Yes, that part I already know," said Tom. "Weren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Supposed to be but I narrowly escaped imprisonment in Azkaban!" cried Wormtail.

"Do explain," said Tom.

"When I learned of your downfall, master, I had to act fast. All the others were being rounded up, some that very night, others a week later. I knew that I would have to go into hiding before they figured out that I had betrayed the Potters' location. Sirius was the one who figured it out. He went after me and I decided to stage my death. He is in Azkaban all this time, master, because everyone believed that he killed me along with 12 muggle bystanders."

"What of the others?" said Tom, who was not very interested in this story.

"I do not know much, master," explained Wormtail. "But the Lestranges have been taken away. And Karkaroff and Crouch too. Though, Karkaroff was let out because he gave the court some names. He is now Headmaster of Durmstrang School."

"That slimy git," muttered Tom.

"Yeah, it's certainly surprising how many betrayed each other after everything went bad," said Wormtail, thoughtfully.

"What about Avery and Rowle and Rosier? Where are they now?"

"Hiding, sir," said Wormtail.

Hiding? They were hiding? Tom could not believe it. He had never expected this of them. They had been his most trusted followers! They were the original Death Eaters. They had grown up with Tom, amidst Trophy Room meetings and Hogsmeade attacks. They had laughed and played games on the Hogwarts Express. How could they betray him now, after everything he'd done for them—after everything he'd given them.

"Tell me," said Tom, not wanting to show his shock, "How have you managed to stay in hiding all these years, Wormtail?"

"I never got around to telling you, master?" said Wormtail, who looked a mixture of proud and anxious. "I am an animagus."

It took a few seconds for these words to make sense to Tom. But once they did, he burst out laughing.

"You? Animagus?"

"That's right, sir," said Wormtail, who looked a little hurt now, but nevertheless smiled. "I have been since I was fifteen."

"You don't say," laughed Tom.

"I really am!" cried Wormtail.

"And what do you turn into?"

"A rat."

This stopped Tom's laughter at once. He now knew that Wormtail was telling the truth. He had always imagined him as a rat and it made perfect sense.

"I've been pretending to be some wizard family's pet," continued Wormtail. "And I have seen the boy, master. My owner is his best mate so I have watched the boys."

"What has been happening up at the school?" Tom demanded. He was now very alert.

"Sirius escaped from Azkaban this last year," began Wormtail, "And everyone was looking for him. Dementors had come to guard the castle too. But one of Potter's mates bought this big cat and it somehow seemed to know exactly what I was. It chased me around everywhere I went—even attacked me a couple of times! It was so vicious and I tried escaping but Ron (my master) kept finding me and bringing me back. Anyway, one night we all somehow ended up in the Whomping Willow...it's this tree that Dumbledore planted at the school back when I used to go there. It was used by my old school mate, Remus Lupin. He's that werewolf that Greyback transformed. And the tree leads to a tunnel to the Shrieking Shack at Hogsmeade. Anyway, Sirius was there and he confronted me. They...they were going to kill me, master. They were going to kill me!"

"What happened?" urged Tom.

"Oh, Remus had forgotten to take his potion that night and it was a full moon, so in all the confusion I transformed back into a rat and escaped. I was so sure that the Potter boy was going to go after me for he hadn't been too pleased at learning that it was I who betrayed his parents, not Black."

"That's quite a story," commented Tom. "All this happened this last year, you say?"

"Yes, sir," said Wormtail, who looked pleased with himself.

"And what about the year before? Anything interesting occur?"

There was silence.

"You won't be pleased," warned Wormtail.

"What?" urged Tom. "WHAT HAPPENED?"

"Well," said Wormtail, slowly. "It's Lucius, master. Lucius Malfoy. He…he did something terrible."

"What has he done?"

"I don't know exactly how he did it…I was only a rat at the time. But from what I heard my owner discussing with the Potter boy, they suspected that Lucius slipped some kind of a diary into a young girl's cauldron…a diary that belonged to you. And...and she was talking to you in that diary all year...the girl...and...and apparently the diary m-manipulated her into opening the Chamber of Secrets and…."

"And what? WHAT?!" cried Tom, whose rage was now increasing at an alarming pace.

"Well the monster attacked students," said Wormtail.

"Did it really?" said Tom, "How many? Were there any deaths? Was Dumbledore absolutely furious?"

"Oh, he was furious," said Wormtail. "But no, no deaths. Lots of people were petrified—mostly muggle-borns...er, mudbloods, I mean. But Potter saved the day again, as usual, and Dumbledore awarded the House Cup to Gryffindor. Can you believe it?"

"FOOL!" shouted Tom. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE HOUSE CUP! WHAT HAPPENED TO THE DIARY?!"

"Oh," said Wormtail, who had jumped a couple of times in alarm. "It…P-potter destroyed it, s-s-sir."

If Tom had thought that things had been bad up until now...

First, Lucius and his family betrayed him by pretending they'd been cursed all along. Then, they went ahead and got themselves prestigious ministry jobs and forgot all about him. And now this...

Tom was quiet for a long time. He didn't know exactly how to respond to this. He didn't know how to carry on anymore. He felt shamed. He didn't want anybody looking at him in this fragile state...not even Wormtail.

"Wormtail," he said in a quiet voice. Wormtail leaned closer to listen. "I need a body."

"I understand, master," said Wormtail. "I've come back to help you."

And at this, he pulled out something Tom had not seen in 13 years and offered it to him.

"It took me a while to get a hold of it, but I found it," said Wormtail, and he bowed his head.

"My wand," said Tom, softly. He eyed it with a kind of longing he could not control, and almost felt tears.

"Keep it with you for now," he finally said, restraining himself. "I cannot hold anything, if you haven't noticed."

"Yes, my lord," said Wormtail. "Tell me what to do and I'll do it, sir."

Tom thought for a long time and then sighed. This was his last chance. He could not think of another way to do it. There was no alternative.

"Wormtail," he said. "Bring me Nagini."

Tom watched through the window as Wormtail made his way across the dark lawn, followed closely by the large, green snake slithering at his feet. He was also carrying a bag with the essential items in it, and he had his wand clenched tightly in his hand. Tom heard the door downstairs burst open and then the creaking of the stairs as Wormtail climbed them.

"Master!" he said once he'd reached the bedroom. "I've brought everything, master, and the snake is—"

"Well, well," she interrupted as she slithered into the room. "If it isn't my master at last."

"Good evening, Nagini," said Tom in Parseltongue. "How long it's been."

"Yes, my point exactly!" hissed Nagini, apparently furious. "I've waited for you for thirteen years! Where have you been all this time?!"

"Nagini—"

"You promised you'd come back for me that night, do you remember?!" she said in a sort of child's voice.

"Enough!" hissed Tom, angrily. "I've been delayed, as you may have noticed."

Nagini was now wrapped around his chair and hissing violently. Meanwhile, Wormtail spilled the contents of his bag onto the floor and sorted through them—books, jars of unicorn blood, and empty bottles.

"Alright, alright!" said Tom, finally. "I have missed you too, Nagini."

She hissed but did not object to his words of affection.

"Have you got it, Wormtail?" said Tom.

"Y-yes, master," said Wormtail, who had cracked open one of the books and was skimming through the pages. "But you need the snake's venom."

"You heard the man, Nagini," said Tom in Parseltongue.

Hours later, the potion was complete. Though, it tasted absolutely revolting. But Tom knew that this was only a temporary solution to his problem, so he chucked it down without complaint. The process took several painful hours, during which Tom was sure he'd passed out a couple of times. Wormtail's scared voice kept on fading in and out and Tom's vision was blurred again and again. Finally, at long last, everything stopped and Tom felt free to open his eyes.

Eyes. He had eyes. Real eyes. And fingers. Long fingers which he held in front of him and moved around slowly. Though, they were bony and skeletal. He was barely able to lift his arms for they were still weak. The potion had not given him his powers back but it had given him more strength and the ability to survive in a rudimentary body. This was much better than anything he'd had in the last 13 years. Pleased, he turned to look at Wormtail.

"I'm cold," he said in a low voice.

Wormtail grabbed the covers from the bed and rushed to Tom's side.

"You will need to nurse me, Wormtail," Tom said to him as he was covered with the blankets. "My pain has been lessened, yes, but I still cannot take care of myself."

"Of course, master," said Wormtail quickly. "Anything, master."

"Bring me my wand, I want to hold it," said Tom.

Wormtail jumped to his bag and retrieved the wand instantly. Tom ran his fingers along it, remembering how wonderful it felt to hold it.

"Good," he said. "I am very glad you returned, Wormtail. . . how ever foolish your choices may have been."

Wormtail gulped loudly but still accepted Tom's compliment.

"Master," he said, suddenly. "What is this place?"

Tom looked around at the dark walls and ceiling, the dusty old furniture, the small spider webs in the corners.

"Tis my father's home," he answered after a long silence.

"I didn't know you were from Little Hangleton!" exclaimed Wormtail.

"I'm not," muttered Tom. "I was brought up in a muggle orphanage, Wormtail, you knew that."

"Oh right, of course," said Wormtail.

"When I was sixteen, I journeyed here to find my father. He lived here with his parents at the time."

"Your grandparents!" exclaimed Wormtail.

Tom smiled wickedly.

"I still remember their screams as though it were only yesterday," he told Wormtail. "They had no idea I'd come all that way to kill them."

"D-did you duel? Were they any good?"

Tom screwed up his eyes. He'd forgotten that none of the Death Eaters knew much about his ancestry—about his blood status. They didn't know his father had been a muggle and that his mother was too weak to live.

"Yes," he finally said. "But I was better. I am always better."

"Yes, I know!" exclaimed Wormtail.

"Wormtail," said Tom, suddenly feeling something tight in his throat. "I need the milk. Get me the milk."

Wormtail rushed over to his bag and retrieved one of the jars which contained the milk from Nagini. He poured the contents into a small cup and rushed over to Tom's side. He held Tom as he fed it to him and Tom, disregarding how vulnerable and fragile he was, drank.

"Now," said Tom once he was finished and Wormtail went to sit on the bed. "Enough reminiscing. We have lots of work to do. I need you to go and bring someone back—someone who can supply us with information as to what has been going on back at Hogwarts and the Ministry."

"Yes, master," said Wormtail, nodding.

"You mustn't be long," Tom warned. "As I've said, I cannot take care of myself and I need you here."

"Of course, master," said Wormtail.

"What do you want from me?!" cried Bertha Jorkins.

Wormtail pointed both his wand and hers straight at the old woman as she stood in the corner, trembling from head to toe.

"We just want a little chat," said Tom, who was sitting in his chair and facing the window. "You were gone too long, Wormtail."

"My apologies, master," said Wormtail, quickly. "It took a while to convince her to come back here with me."

"Who are you?" cried Bertha. "What do you want?"

"Wormtail, turn me around," said Tom. Wormtail obliged and as soon as Bertha saw what she was dealing with, her eyes became very round and her face very white, almost ghostly.

Tom pointed his wand at her and could almost feel the excitement building up inside of him. It had been too long a time since he'd last done this.

"CRUCIO!" he shouted and Bertha shrieked in pain.

"Muffliato!" cried Wormtail so that the woman's shrieks would not awaken the nearby villagers.

When Tom lifted the curse, Bertha was trembling on the floor in the corner of the room.

"You remind me a lot of an old hag I once knew," laughed Tom. "Hepzibah Smith, perhaps you've heard of her?"

Bertha shook her head.

"Liar," muttered Tom. "Perhaps another bit of pain?"

Wormtail clapped his hands excitedly.

After the second round of the curse, Bertha gasped in shock and leaned against the wall for support.

"Now," said Tom. "She is ready to talk."

As far as Tom was concerned, there was no feeling in the world like it—possessing someone. He was allowed access to every single one of Bertha's private memories. He glimpsed her childhood, glimpsed her days at Hogwarts with some familiar characters (Sirius Black being among them)… he finally got to the parts he was most interested in: her work at the Ministry. He watched as Bertha discussed various Death Eaters with Barty Crouch Sr. He watched as Crouch muttered something about his traitor son and how he deserved to rot in Azkaban. He watched as Bertha discussed the upcoming Triwizard Tournament with an auror Tom recognised as Alastor Moody. They discussed tactics for the tasks and made arrangements for the competing schools: Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons.

"Get away from me!" shrieked Bertha.

And then, Tom saw something that Bertha had tried desperately to conceal from him. Crouch had placed a memory charm on her, through which Tom was able to fight his way. Tom saw the conversation with Crouch again. He saw Bertha confronting Crouch about letting his son out of Azkaban and taking him home. No one knew about this and Bertha had guessed it.

Tom withdrew from her mind. Beautiful. This was just beautiful.

But the Triwizard Tournament? He'd read about it of course, during his years at Hogwarts, but as far as he knew, it hadn't been hosted for years. Had the ministry finally decided to give it another try? Tom's face brightened up considerably.

"Wormtail," he said, "Go and fetch Nagini for me."

"Yes, master!" cried Wormtail and he was out the door.

Bertha breathed loudly.

"Something the matter, dear?" said Tom, simply.

"W-what do you w-want from me?" she muttered in response.

"Honestly?" said Tom. "I need your life in order to perform a little procedure…think of it as a sort of sacrifice for the greater good."

Bertha grew even whiter. This forced a little smile on Tom's face. He'd forgotten how much he enjoyed doing this. Soon, Wormtail returned with Nagini, and Tom summoned his energy to lift his arm to wave at Bertha. It was quite painful, yes, but so worth it.

"Goodbye, Bertha Jorkins," he said, before pointing his wand at her and then at Nagini.

"Now, you shall stay close to me at all times," Tom told Nagini after the procedure was done. "We are more closely connected now than we have ever been before."

"Yes, sir," hissed Nagini, who was staring hungrily at Bertha's lifeless form in the corner.

"Go ahead," laughed Tom.

"Thanks!" she exclaimed as she made her way over to where the old hag lay and began to feast.

"Wormtail," said Tom after Nagini was done and retreated from the room to explore the house, "I have another job for you."

"Yes, master, anything," said Wormtail.

"You are to go and find Barty Crouch," declared Tom.

"S-s-sir?"

"Junior," Tom clarified.

"But h-he's in Azkaban, master."

"No, no, Jorkins has just revealed to me that he has been released, though no one knows this. It'll be easy for you to bring him. He'll come willingly, I know he will."

"Yes, master," said Wormtail, who began to pull on his travelling cloak.

"Oh and Wormtail," said Tom. "Do not be long this time."

RECAP:

We have now reached the events of the Goblet of Fire. Tom has been reunited with Wormtail and Nagini. He has finally made her into a Horcrux. I know it's not canon that Nagini was around in the first wizarding war but in this story, she was. So now that she's back and she's very useful, Tom makes her into a Horcrux because why not? And, as you saw at the end of the chapter, an old friend will soon rejoin them. Yay.

If you were a little puzzled by the sudden 'two years later', I did not fast-forward because I don't know what Tom did in that time. I know exactly what he did, but it is irrelevant to the story. All you need to know is that he spent those two years in that Albanian Forest, feeling even weaker than before and brooding over his Death Eaters—the traitors.

One last thing…about the whole Diary Horcrux getting destroyed…no, Tom did not know that Lucius went against his orders and slipped the diary to Ginny Weasley's cauldron…nor did Tom feel anything when the diary was destroyed. As J.K mentioned in an interview, he did not feel pain when his Horcruxes were destroyed. I will stay true to that with the first couple of Horcruxes. After, Tom will start feeling something whenever another one is destroyed.

Sorry for the rant, and please PM me if you have any questions or suggestions or requests for anything!