Author's Note: Hey readers! As of this moment, there are 17 chapters left until the end of this story. I sincerely hope that you will like them. I am especially excited for the second last chapter. You'll see why. Hope you enjoy this and next update will hopefully be within the next couple of days. Have a great week everyone!

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

"...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..."

CHAPTER 33: BARTY CROUCH JUNIOR

"I am too weak to travel, Wormtail," said Tom as the short man carried him through the dark field. "I must be brought back immediately."

"Soon, my lord, soon!" said Wormtail, apologetically. "He is under the imperius curse, my lord. He will not come back with me alone and I've no strength to break the curse myself, sir."

"Is there anything you can do right, Wormtail?" said Tom.

Wormtail made a sort of grunting noise but handed Tom his wand, which Tom gripped tightly in his hand. Wormtail now carried him up to the front steps of the house determinedly, with Nagini slithering at his feet as she followed.

"It must be quick," Tom hissed as Wormtail said, "Of course, my lord."

Wormtail knocked on the door three times and waited. The door opened, revealing Barty Crouch Senior. Just before he'd reached for his wand, Tom pointed his own at him and yelled "IMPERIO!" The man's eyes became unfocused and he stood there. Wormtail let himself into the house and settled Tom on a chair.

"Close the door, Wormtail," said Tom and Wormtail quickly ushered senior into the living room and locked the door behind him.

As it clicked shut, a man shed an invisibility cloak and revealed himself to be standing in the corner of the room. He stared at Tom for a long time, wide-eyed. Azkaban had really changed his physical appearance. Though he looked like he had been nursed back to health, he did not resemble his younger self. The man looked gaunt, sickly—haunted even. But his facial expression was not that of fear or anxiety. He looked shocked and amazed. And then, he quickly moved across the room and sank to the floor next to the armchair so that he was levelled with Tom. He looked up at him hopefully, his eyes now completely focused and aware, and then he slowly bowed his head.

"Welcome back, my lord," he said, darkly.

"It is good to see you too," said Tom, weakly, "Barty Crouch Junior."

Wormtail held the cup up to Tom's lips as Tom sucked on the milky liquid.

"More," he kept on repeating and again and again, Wormtail moved from Nagini back to Tom. It seemed hours before Tom was finally satisfied and Wormtail heaved a deep sigh. He set down the cup and sat next to junior on the bed, both of them facing Tom in his bundle of blankets on the armchair.

The three were back at the Riddle House. Tom had insisted that they meet there. He had no interest in staying at the Crouches house. Their house elf, Winky, had been jinxed into a deep sleep and would not wake for hours. Crouch Senior was roaming around the Riddle House, humming stupidly whilst under the imperius curse.

"As you can see," said Tom, addressing junior, "I have been weakened to a great degree. I must now survive like this," he slowly raised an arm and gestured at the room, "and have my servant nurse me." His eyes lingered for a moment on Wormtail, sitting next to Crouch on the bed like an excited but frightened dog.

"That is a temporary solution, though, isn't it, my lord?" said Crouch, quickly.

Tom looked back at him in amazement and smiled weakly.

"Yes," he said, "I do not plan on living on like this—most certainly not. That is partly why I have summoned you tonight."

"But how did you—"

"A ministry witch kindly volunteered to provide us with information," explained Tom, thinking of Bertha Jorkins' remains that were stowed away in the corridor closet, waiting for Nagini to return to.

"Us?" said Crouch, glancing once at Wormtail.

"It has just been me and Wormtail this past summer," said Tom.

Crouch looked down at his feet.

"I would have returned, my lord, you know I would have. But I—"

"It is quite alright, junior," said Tom, quietly. "I already know about your imprisonment and I know about the circumstances of your release. I must say, your father is very cunning. Tis a shame he never thought to join our ranks. I could have used him." Tom's eyes lingered over at Crouch senior who was standing over in the corner of the room, looking up at the ceiling with fascination.

Junior made a disparaging noise that was somewhere between a cough and a grunt, but said nothing. Neither did Tom. It felt really good to be reunited with one of his most loyal servants once again—one who had not betrayed him.

"I could kill him, if master wishes it," said junior finally.

"No, I most certainly do not," said Tom, surprising him. "He must stay alive. I have a big job for you, Crouch. Are you ready to risk everything for me?"

"Yes, sir," said junior automatically.

Tom was very pleased with this answer and eyed him for a long time.

"S-so," said Wormtail, nervously. "W-w-what happens n-now, my lord?"

"Now," said Tom, speaking to both of them, "Senior should be brought back to his home. I have placed special enchantments around it so that he cannot leave unless the imperius curse stops working...and it will not stop working until I lift it. He shall return there and go about his regular duties. He shall contact the ministry only by mail and only regarding work. Nothing else."

"Can't I simply dispose of him, sir?" tried junior.

"Not yet, old friend," said Tom.

Junior smiled slightly.

"I heard of the happenings at the Quidditch World Cup," said Tom.

Junior's face darkened.

"I am not mad," said Tom, mistaking it for shame. "I am most pleased. It has been a long time since the dark mark was conjured, I dare say... too long."

"But master," said junior, darkly. "Master, you should have seen them. Your followers...the ones who once long ago swore their loyalty to you...they swore it!. . . and they ran like cowards! I could have killed them then and there. I ought to have killed them. That is no way to treat their master!"

"Calm yourself, junior," said Tom, simply. "Everyone will eventually get what they deserve, I will see to it myself."

Junior nodded and then rose to his feet and led his father out of the room. He returned alone just an hour later and informed Tom that Crouch Senior was in his home, as planned. Tom nodded approvingly and junior knelt down before him.

"What happens next, sir?"

"Next, we shall concoct a plan to bring everyone back together. But first, oh yes, my priority…first, I want to be resurrected." He paused. "I want a full body."

"How are we to achieve that, my lord?" said Crouch at once.

"I have tried several different ways over the last thirteen years, junior," said Tom, thoughtfully. "I possessed animals for a long time but they died off too quickly. I possessed a young wizard a few years back but he too ended up dead. It seems that all my powers have been stripped from me, with the exception of my ability to possess other living things."

There was a moment of silence.

"Y-you w-w-w-w-want t-t-t-to possess–us?" said Wormtail, who looked to be on the verge of tears.

Tom laughed out loud.

"Most certainly not," he said, "You Wormtail are dead. You can't go walking around freely, can you?"

"Would master like me to volunteer for this?" said Crouch in a low voice.

"No," said Tom, smiling down at him. "I have another job for you. A very important job for which I know you will be perfect."

He smiled to himself, thinking of the brilliant plan that he had devised in Wormtail's absence. He now knew it would work for Crouch had just shown him in the last few hours alone of his continued loyalty and servitude. He knew it would be successful.

"But more of that later," he added. "For now, we shall focus on my resurrection."

The two men nodded and listened intently. When Tom was finished describing the procedure for his resurrection, neither of the men spoke. They sat in deep thought for a long time. Wormtail looked as though he were contemplating something, but was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

It seemed that an hour had passed in the silence. Tom motioned for Wormtail to bring him more milk at one point. Finally, after Wormtail had put the cup back and took his seat on the bed again, Crouch spoke up.

"As I understand it, my lord wishes to use the Potter boy."

"Correct," said Tom, smiling again.

"But—" began Wormtail.

"And my lord wishes for me to bring the boy?" said Crouch, who had lowered his voice even more.

"Yes," said Tom. "In the coming days, you and I will further discuss the specific way you will go about this."

Crouch nodded in understanding. Beside him, Wormtail was wrestling with something he wanted to say but was not sure if he should say it. Ignoring him, Tom turned to Crouch again.

"Let me see your mark."

Crouch immediately leapt off the bed and went to sit beside Tom. He rolled up the sleeve of his arm and held it up for Tom to see. The Dark Mark was there, black against Crouch's skin. It was moving very slowly as though it were breathing.

"The time is close now," said Tom, observantly.

"M-m-m-my lord, I think I h-h-h-h-hear something," said Wormtail, who was now looking around the room violently.

"It is an old house, Wormtail," said Tom. "I am the meanest creature here. Do not worry. Before I forget, I understand you are in need of a wand, junior." Tom reached over to his side and pulled out a wand which he held out to Crouch. Crouch took it in his hands and examined it.

"Thank you, my lord," he said. "Whose was this?"

"Bertha Jorkins," said Tom, simply. "She won't be needing it anymore, I think."

"M-my lord," said Wormtail, again, who looked completely and utterly worried. He moved closer to Tom with careful steps that made the floorboards beneath his feet creak. With every creak, Wormtail jumped as though someone had hexed him. "I…m-my lord, I have thought about your plan . . . about your procedure. And I completely understand everything, sir, I do. B-but… m-my lord, it'll be impossible to get to the boy now. Just simply impossible! He is untouchable."

Tom stared at him for a long time, and when he finally spoke, it was with a kind of coldness that became very present in the room.

"As I recall, not long ago you called the nearest gutter pipe home. Could it be that nursing me has taken its toll—has been too much for you, Wormtail? Am I that much of a bother?"

"No, no, of course not, my Lord Voldemort," said Wormtail quickly, and he was now trembling with fear as he moved closer to Tom's chair and knelt down. "I only meant…c-couldn't we just use anyone—to speed up the process? You s-said so yourself that it m-must be the blood of an…an enemy. M-master has many enemies, I remember…perhaps, if we were to do it…without the boy…?"

"No!" hissed Tom, making Wormtail jump backwards. "The boy is everything! It cannot be done without him and it will be done exactly as I said!"

"But s-sir," said Wormtail, who was close to tears.

"Harry Potter is as good as mine, Wormtail," said Tom, boldly. "It is decided. There will be no more argument."

Crouch edged forwards, giving Wormtail a dirty look, and then turned back to Tom and looked him in the eyes determinedly.

"I will not disappoint you, my lord," he said.

"Good," said Tom, finally feeling like he was actually being heard.

He would much rather have had anyone else return rather than Wormtail. But having Crouch here now was the best news he'd had in a long time.

Crouch began to say something but was suddenly interrupted by Nagini's loud hissing as she slithered her way into the room, past the old wooden bed and up to Tom's armchair.

"It is that filthy muggle, sir, he's in the corridor, eavesdropping on every word of your meeting, sire," she hissed.

Tom frowned.

"Nagini tells me that the old muggle caretaker from across the hill is standing just outside the door," he informed his two servants.

At this, Wormtail jumped to his feet and stormed at the door, while Crouch seemed to immediately understand Tom's look and handed him his wand, which had been resting on the little table beside his chair.

"Stand aside, Wormtail," said Tom coolly, who was gripping his wand, "so I can give our guest a proper greeting."

He could almost taste the fear in the air now. How he longed to bite into the man's flesh. Wormtail moved away from the door just in time as a jet of green light—light which Tom had most dearly missed making—shot out of Tom's wand and blasted the old man backwards. Tom's laughter cackled for a few seconds before turning into tired coughs. He wheezed a little bit as Crouch brought a cup of milk to his lips.

"Nagini," said Tom after he'd drunk, "Dinner."

"You are most kind, master," she said, and she quickly slithered over to the dark corridor for it was now her turn to have a little fun.

Tom awoke in the dead of night with a terrible feeling inside his stomach. His breathing was faster now and he could feel some kind of sweat forming all around him for he was completely soaked in some kind of a nasty liquid. He looked around the room in a sort of panic, his eyes searching frantically for Wormtail. It was several minutes before he remembered that he'd asked him to sleep downstairs for the snoring had bothered his sleeping. Now, Tom was very much regretting that decision.

"Wormtail!" he tried to call out but his voice was very low and hoarse that he doubted there was any chance the little man had heard him. He tried to move but his arms and legs felt much heavier than before. He had no idea what was happening but knew that he needed to get outside soon. Looking around frantically, he finally spotted his wand lying right next to him. He picked it up, pointed it at the corner of the room, and muttered "Bombarda". The spell blasted off half the wall, sending floorboards flying everywhere. As anticipated, Wormtail came running at once, a wand clenched in his hand.

"M-m-my lord, is everything alright?" he cried.

"Get me out of here!" hissed Tom. "Take me outside, quickly!"

Wormtail fought his way through the rubble and hastily picked up Tom who was bundled up in the blankets. With a flick of his wand, the rubble moved aside, allowing them to pass through.

"Almost t-there, m-my lord," whimpered Wormtail as he sped down the stairs, holding Tom like a child. Tom's breathing was very hard now and he found himself remembering those many Death Eater parties back from the war. He thought of the food and the drinks and the celebrations of the Malfoys' marriage. He thought of the toasts and the music and all the promises made. It angered him. It made him furious. He knew that once he saw his Death Eaters again, he would have to control himself to avoid killing them all at once. They deserved death. They deserved torture. They deserved to feel every bit of pain that Tom had felt for the last thirteen unbearable years.

The cold night air felt very good against his skin and almost immediately relieved his sweat. Wormtail was huffing and puffing as he moved quickly across the yard, not sure where he was going.

"Slow down!" Tom hissed at him. "I just want a simple walk."

"Y-yes, master," said Wormtail, and he slowed his pace considerably.

"Good," said Tom, who sighed deeply as his breathing returned to normal.

Wormtail walked around the yard for hours, all the time carrying Tom like a bundled up baby. They did not talk but simply walked. Tom's breathing was much easier now and the panicked feeling had escaped him completely. He felt relaxed and, for the first time in a long time, comfortable. Soon, the sun began to rise and Tom decided that it was time to return to the house.

They were somewhat surprised when they finally entered the old sitting room again to find that someone was standing there, waiting for them. But Tom did not panic for he had sensed, even before Wormtail had opened the door, that Crouch had returned.

"What is it?" said Tom as Wormtail led him over to the couch and laid him gently upon it in an odd sitting position. Crouch moved forward and sat on the floor by the foot of the couch, the most recent copy of the Daily Prophet sitting in his lap.

"My lord," he said, eagerly, "My father had me sit in an invisibility cloak at the beginning of the match back at the world cup. My lord, I overheard some ministry workers talking. That auror you mentioned—"

"Alastor Moody," said Tom, coolly.

"Yes," said Crouch. "He is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."

Tom smiled.

"Yes, I already know," he said. "Bertha told me everything I needed to know. And this is where you come in, junior."

"My lord?"

"You remember the plan we'd discussed a few days ago?"

"Yes, sir, of course."

"I shall require you to persuade Alastor Moody to allow you to take his spot as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"How am I to do that, sir?"

"Find him, curse him—do not kill him. I feel he will not be useful to you dead. No, he must live…at least for now. You must impersonate him for this school year, junior. There is an important event happening at Hogwarts School and I require someone inside the walls."

"I understand," said Crouch after a moment's hesitation.

"The Triwizard Tournament has been an important magical tradition for hundreds of years…the three competing schools—Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang—gather to select three champions. These three champions complete three tasks, all to win some ruddy cup."

Wormtail giggled stupidly in the corner.

"I shall require you to enter Harry Potter into the tournament," continued Tom. "And it is crucial that he win it. You must work with him and help him win it."

"My lord?"

"The three tasks have always been changed but the ultimate goal of the last one has not," explained Tom. "It is a well-known fact that in order to complete the tournament, the champions must touch the Triwizard Cup in the last task. I do not know what the task will entail but I feel that Albus Dumbledore will be very open with his dear old friend Moody."

"Yes," said Crouch, slowly.

"You are to transform this cup into a portkey that will then transport the boy here. It is on that night that Wormtail shall perform my resurrection."

Wormtail made another strange little noise from the corner of the room, which both Tom and Crouch ignored. Tom looked Crouch in the eyes.

"This is perhaps the most important job I have ever given to any of my Death Eaters and it is crucial that everything goes well."

"I accept, my lord," said Crouch, confidently.

Tom smiled.

They spent the next couple of days together, planning carefully until they decided that the Polyjuice Potion was their best bet.

"Have you met Alastor Moody before?" Tom asked Crouch who now closed up the dusty old book and set it on the table.

"No, sir," he answered.

"He has a metal leg and a glass eye," said Tom.

Crouch stared at him.

"You will have to make your performance convincing, junior. Have him under the imperius curse at all times and talk to him when you are alone. Find out about his past experiences and his habits. You need to be able to fool even Albus Dumbledore. I am counting on you, junior."

"I will not disappoint you, my lord," Crouch repeated, perhaps for the hundredth time that summer.

Still, these words were very assuring to Tom and he felt hopeful for what was to come in the near future. This could perhaps be his last ever chance at resurrection.

"Oh and junior," said Tom, remembering a little fact he'd overlooked briefly, "You may run into an old friend whilst at Hogwarts...Igor Karkaroff. As I understand it, he is the Durmstrang Headmaster. Do not be too nice to him for when I am resurrected, he will meet his end. But also, do not give yourself away."

"Yes, my lord," said Crouch as an evil grin spread across his face. "It will be my pleasure."

At the end of August, Crouch and Wormtail went to Alastor Moody's house to take him as their hostage. A few hours later, Wormtail returned to Little Hangleton, looking very pleased.

"I take it things went well?" said Tom.

"Crouch is packing up for Hogwarts as we speak," said Wormtail, proudly.

"Very good," said Tom. "I shall also require you to occasionally visit his father's home and check up on him...check that he is still doing as he is told."

"Of course, master," said Wormtail.

As he went to the back room to fetch the last of that week's milk supply, Tom sat back in his chair. Somehow, he could not help but wonder if perhaps Dumbledore would be able to see through this little trick.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. The cold had swept over the little village and soon, Wormtail was bundling up too before he took Tom out on their little walks about the grounds. Every day, after Tom's morning feeding, Wormtail would leave for an hour and bring back that day's copy of the Daily Prophet. They would read the entire thing at least twice, hoping for news of anything happening at Hogwarts. There was no news of an arrest made with regards to a Hogwarts teacher, so Tom thought it safe to assume that everything had gone smoothly and that Crouch was now residing in what would be Moody's office. He was quite impressed.

It was not until after Halloween that the Prophet finally provided an article of some interest:

RITA SKEETER INTERVIEWS HARRY POTTER

Harry Potter, age 12, is a suspect entrant in the Triwizard Tournament. His eyes are swimming with the ghosts of his past and he's choking back tears as he tells me what persuaded him to enter.

"I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now…yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it. . . I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me…"

Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school.

"W-what does this m-mean, my lord?" said Wormtail, who was frowning at the paper now.

"It means," said Tom, who was now smiling violently, "That Harry Potter is a Triwizard champion." He paused and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "The plan is working."

And so it was that every day was spent the same way—Wormtail feeding Tom Nagini's milk four or five times a day, taking long walks around the yard in the nighttime, and reading and rereading Daily Prophet articles. The next bit of interesting information came as the winter neared. The Prophet stated that Harry Potter, along with the other Triwizard Champions, had successfully completed the first task and was scheduled to participate in the second task in February.

"Everything is working as planned," Tom said conversationally during another one of their long walks.

Wormtail only nodded as he held Tom closely and walked around the graveyard. His face was illuminated in the moonlight and Tom could tell that Wormtail was very nervous and anxious about something.

"Spill it," said Tom, finally. "I hate surprises."

"It's n-nothing, m-my lord," said Wormtail.

"Do not lie to me," said Tom, darkly.

Wormtail gulped nervously.

"It's just that… my lord…I feel a bit…troubled with what you described is required for the…for the…uh…the procedure, sir."

"Indeed?" said Tom, who had not expected this answer at all. "And what part exactly troubles you so?"

"The…" said Wormtail, whose voice was now quivering uncontrollably, "The p-p-p-part about…about the servant's s-s-s-s-sacrifice."

"Please do not stutter, Wormtail, it reminds me too much of that idiot Quirrell," said Tom, who sighed heavily.

"S-sorry," said Wormtail, quietly.

"He was absolutely useless," said Tom, bitterly as Wormtail continued to walk along the snowy graveyard. "Couldn't possibly do anything right."

"W-when did you meet him, sir?" said Wormtail.

"The summer before the school year had started," said Tom, who was now thinking of Quirrell and his purple turban and his pathetic little stutter. "I'm glad he's dead now…that's one less thing for me to do."

"Of course, my lord," said Wormtail, quietly. "Sir," he added after a moment's silence. "W-why have you chosen this location for the procedure?"

Tom frowned at the question and thought for a minute.

"It is the birthplace of my father," he finally answered. "You see his grave, just over there? It is the tallest among the others." Wormtail nodded vigorously. "The bone of my father must be used for the procedure. It is buried there. You will extract it soon enough, won't you Wormtail?"

"Yes, my lord, of course," he replied.

"Wormtail," said Tom after another moment's silence. "What was junior put in Azkaban for, exactly? I don't recall they had any particular evidence of his association with me."

"Crouch?" said Wormtail. Tom nodded against his bundle of blankets. "He and Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange sought you after you disappeared. They looked in all the places they could think of but they didn't know exactly what they were looking for—see, no one knew what had happened to you or what you looked like, sir. So they decided to pursue the Longbottoms."

"The Longbottoms," repeated Tom, remembering the night Snape had come to him with the news of the prophecy and Tom's decision that he would go after the Potters, not the Longbottoms.

"Yes, sir," said Wormtail. "Well, they tortured them for information. They thought perhaps Frank and Alice knew something about what had happened to you."

"And Crouch too?" said Tom.

"Yes, sir, he initiated the Crucio," said Wormtail.

"Interesting," said Tom, thoughtfully.

"His own father sent him to Azkaban," Wormtail added.

"I see," said Tom. "And the Longbottoms?"

"They survived, my lord."

"Not well, I presume?"

"No," agreed Wormtail, who was now circling back towards the Riddle House over the hill. "They have been at St. Mungo's ever since."

"Thought so," said Tom. "I'm very impressed with the Lestranges and with Junior. Though, I always knew they were loyal."

Wormtail gulped nervously again.

"M-master, I have a-a-always been l-loyal—loyal to betray the o-o-order and join y-you!"

"Do not make a fool of yourself, Wormtail," said Tom. "You came back because your school friends would have your neck otherwise."

"M-master, p-p-please!" cried Wormtail, who was now surely going to start sobbing, "I s-swear it. I have a-always been on your side!"

"Tell me," said Tom, who was half bored and half amused, "If Black had not escaped Azkaban to come after you, and if he and Lupin did not threaten to kill you in that shack, how long would you have stayed hidden as a rat for, while I was left to rot in that ruddy forest?"

Wormtail's tears were coming down quickly now and he held Tom closer to him in a kind of hug.

"I am s-sorry, my lord, so very s-s-sorry!" he wailed.

"That's enough, Wormtail," said Tom, lazily. "Take me back inside the house."

The rest of the walk was thankfully silent, with the exception of Wormtail whimpering every couple of seconds.

By the time the second task of the Triwizard Tournament was reported on—and the results revealed that the Potter boy was still headed for victory—Wormtail had nearly filled Tom in on the whereabouts of every single one of his main Death Eaters.

"I know what Severus has been doing," said Tom, who was a little annoyed now. "I was also at Hogwarts three years ago, Wormtail."

"Of course, my lord," said Wormtail, quickly and he brought another cup of milk to Tom's lips. "I'd forgotten, my lord."

It was a cool Saturday morning in February and they were in the sitting room. Nagini was playing with something upstairs and whispering about Crystal Cave. Tom ignored her and listened to Wormtail's rant about Snape's achievements in almost getting Potter expelled from Hogwarts for using underage magic, back in the boy's second year.

"That is all I know," Wormtail concluded.

"What of the Malfoys?" said Tom, who was growing impatient with Wormtail's stupidity.

"Lucius works in the Ministry," said Wormtail, knowledgably, though it was nothing Tom didn't already know. "His son goes to school with Potter and they are rivals."

"Naturally," said Tom.

"But Lucius has kept up his pureblood claims, my lord," Wormtail added. "He proudly states in public that he believes muggleborns have no business studying magic."

"So he has not renounced my teachings…only me," said Tom, slowly.

"It seems so, my lord," said Wormtail, who seemed a bit proud of this fact. "Oh!" he jumped in his seat. "I almost forgot—Walden Macnair, you remember him—he works at the ministry now too."

"I remember Macnair all too well," said Tom, recalling his sighting of Macnair in Knockturn Alley just a few weeks after Tom had lost everything.

"I don't know and don't care," Macnair had said when Borgin asked him where Tom was.

Tom distinctly remembered those exact words and he remembered his vow to himself that he would not let Macnair off for that.

"What does he do?" he asked Wormtail now.

"He is an executioner, my lord," said Wormtail, quickly. "He was s-sent to execute Hagrid's buckbeak….Hippogriff was his name, I think. It was that very night that I encountered Black and escaped his attack."

Tom closed his eyes and tried very hard to control his temper. He so wanted to kill Wormtail right there and then. It would provide him with the most joy he'd had in years. The man had just gotten on his nerves a tad too far this time.

"You need him," hissed Nagini's voice, startling Tom a bit.

She had slithered her way into the room and was now at the foot of the couch, looking up at Tom.

"I know," Tom replied, through gritted teeth. "Come here, my beauty, so I can see you."

Nagini moved up on the couch and settled herself near Tom.

"We're almost there," Tom hissed to her, "Almost."

The following week however, Wormtail returned from his visit to Crouch's house, full of tears. He dropped to the floor and bowed low as he continued to sob.

"JUST TELL ME!" cried Tom, with the most energy he could muster. "WHAT HAPPENED?!"

"C-c-c-c-c-crouch esc-c-caaped, my lord," wailed Wormtail.

Tom stared at him, trying to make meaning of these words.

But how could Crouch have escaped? He'd been under the imperius curse! And as though he'd read his mind, Wormtail hastily added, "He learned to fight the c-c-curse, m-m-my lord!"

Tom glared down at him.

"Alert junior immediately," he instructed.

Wormtail bowed his head again and then left the house. He returned an hour later, looking a little less frightened than before.

"Well?" said Tom, restlessly. "Did you tell him to get rid of his father by any means necessary?"

"He s-s-said he will t-t-take care of it, sir," said Wormtail in a small voice.

Tom sighed heavily.

"Another mistake like this and I shall feed you to my snake."

He felt a surprising little tinge at repeating these exact words which he'd last spoken to Lestrange, his old school friend.

As the days began to get slightly warmer with spring nearing, Tom took it upon himself to go over the procedure with Wormtail every single day, so that Wormtail was sure to know exactly how it ought to go, since it was nearing so quickly and Wormtail was far from bright. They continued with their long nightly walks, sometimes taking afternoon walks as well, and Tom repeated the procedure over and over again.

"Bone of the father," said Wormtail, "Blood of the enemy, and f-f-flesh of t-the s-s-servant."

"Good," said Tom. "Very good. You will need to leave me in a few weeks' time to go out and get a cauldron. Do you think you can manage that, Wormtail?"

"Y-yes, my lord," said Wormtail, who now looked distraught.

Tom sighed happily and looked up at the shining afternoon sun.

"How I long to see the boy," he said in barely more than a whisper. "How I long to be close to him so that he could whimper like you so often do, Wormtail."

"Yes, sir," said Wormtail, nervously.

"The boy is everything," said Tom. "He is everything. And I shall terminate him soon enough."

"M-m-my lord," said Wormtail, who was now screwing up the courage to speak. "You may recall that I…h-had some c-concerns r-r-regarding a s-specific p-p-part of the procedure…"

"Yes, I recall," said Tom, frowning up at Wormtail now. "I realise my powers have been stripped from me but my memory is perfectly fine, Wormtail."

"Yes of course, my lord, I didn't mean anything by it, my lord," said Wormtail quickly. "I only meant…" he sighed. "My lord…f-f-flesh of the s-s-servant. I d-don't f-f-feel too good a-about that particular part."

"I shall only require a hand," said Tom, simply. "Can't you sacrifice that much for your master? Haven't you always been on my side? Aren't you my so-called 'most loyal servant', Wormtail?"

Wormtail gulped loudly.

"M-m-my lord, I—"

"You will not disobey me," said Tom. And just as Wormtail opened his mouth again to speak, he added "End of discussion."

Wormtail did not speak of the matter again.

In fact, the next time he spoke to Tom willingly was a few days later when he brought back the Daily Prophet with a small smile.

"News?" said Tom.

"The third task is scheduled for June 24, my lord," said Wormtail.

"That is next week," said Tom, coolly, though he could not quite suppress the excitement.

It was so near now—his bright, sparkling future. He could practically feel himself reaching out and grasping it. Nagini also could not seem to contain her excitement at this news, for Tom had already promised her that after he was done with Harry Potter, she could have him as a reward for her loyalty.

Strangely, on June 24, Tom found himself unable to think of anything but his Horcruxes. He thought carefully of each one in its hiding spot. He wondered silently why he had not felt anything when the diary had been destroyed two years ago. It contained a piece of his soul, after all. Would he not have had to have felt something? He searched his memory, going back to all those lonesome days in the forest, but could not pinpoint a single moment when he'd felt a strange sort of pain. It was simply nonexistent. This was most peculiar. After all these years and after all he had accomplished, magic still managed to surprise him at times.

By nightfall, Tom instructed Wormtail to slowly start heading for the graveyard. Surely, Potter would be arriving any moment now. Wormtail had been particularly quiet all day and remained quiet as he picked Tom up, covered him in a long black cloak which he had brought for the occasion, pocketed his dagger, and set out for the graveyard, with Nagini slithering happily at his feet.

Small explanation: I realise that some of the events do not coincide exactly with the book. That is because I did a mixture of the book's account and the movie's, since I liked both equally. I tried to fit it as best as I could. I am of course talking about the whole Crouch thing. It took quite a bit of research and I realise Voldemort and Wormtail stayed with Senior at his house with Winky for that time that he was held hostage until he escaped and then they sent a message to junior to stop him from talking to Dumbledore. I changed this up a bit because I wanted to include the movie versions from Harry's dreams at the beginning. anyway, all the same important events still happen so hopefully you still enjoyed the chapter and don't forget to review!

PS. the next chapter will also be a mixture of the book's account and the movie's