The Death Eaters
Voldemort looked away from Arthur, examining his new body.
His hands looked like large, pale spiders, his long white fingers caressing his chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, with slits, like a cat's, gleamed more brightly through the darkness.
Voldemort then held up his hands and flexed his fingers with a rapt and exultant expression. He didn't bother noticing Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of Nagini, which had slithered back into Arthur's sight, circling him, hissing.
Voldemort then slipped one of his unnaturally long fingered hands into a deep pocket, pulled out the bone white wand that looked like it was carved out of a bone. He caressed it before raising it, pointing it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground, thrown against the headstone where Arthur was tied; he then fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying.
Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Arthur again, laughing a high, cold mirthless laugh.
Wormtail's robes now shined with blood, wrapping the stump of his arm in them.
"My Lord…" He choked. "...my Lord… you promised… you did promise…."
"Hold out your arm." Voldemort said lazily.
"Oh, master… thank you, master…." Wormtail extended his bleeding stump, yet Voldemort laughed again.
"The other arm, Wormtail."
"Master, please… please…."
Voldemort bent down, pulling out Wormtail's left arm, where Arthur saw something on the inner forearm. It was a vivid red tattoo of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. It was the Dark Mark. This was what was on Karkaroff and Snape's arms as well.
Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.
"It is back…" He said. "...they will all have noticed it… and now, we shall see… now we shall know…."
He pressed his long, white index finger to the tattoo on Wormtail's arm.
Arthur's scar seared with a sharp pain again as Wormtail let out a howl: Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's Mark, which turned jet black.
There was a look of cruel satisfaction on Voldemort's face as he straightened up, throwing back his head and stared around the dark graveyard.
"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" He whispered, his red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"
Arthur knew he was talking about the Death Eaters who said they didn't willingly serve him when they were captured.
Voldemort was pacing up and down before Arthur and Wormtail, eyes still sweeping the graveyard as he did so. Then after a minute or so, he looked down at Arthur, who still glared at him, breathing through his nose, a cruel smile twisting his snake-like face.
"You stand, Arthur Pendergast, upon the remains of my late father." He hissed softly. "A Muggle and a fool… very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child… and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death…."
Voldemort laughed once more as Arthur growled. He still continued pacing, looking all around him, Nagini still circling in the grass.
"You see that house upon the hillside, Pendergast? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who had 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, Pendergast, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage… but I vowed to find him… I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name… Tom Riddle…."
He still paced, his red eyes darting from grave to grave.
"Listen to me, reliving family history…." He said quietly. "Why, I am growing sentimental…. But look, Arthur! My true family returns…."
The air was now full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadow, wizards Apparated. All of them were hooded and masked. One by one, they moved forwards… slowly and cautiously, like they couldn't believe their eyes.
Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them. And then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled forwards and kissed the hem of his black robes, which disgusted Arthur.
"Master… master…." He murmured.
The other Death Eaters behind him did the same thing, each approaching Voldemort on their knees, kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up to form a silent circle which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Arthur, Voldemort and the still sobbing and twitching Wormtail.
There were gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people.
Yet Voldemort didn't expect more. He just looked around at the hooded faces, and as though there wasn't any wind, a rustling ran around the circle, like it had shivered.
"Welcome, Death Eaters." Voldemort said quietly. "Thirteen years… thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it was yesterday… we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"
He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening.
"I smell guilt." He said. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air."
Another shiver ran around the circle, like each member of it longed, but didn't dare, to step away from him.
"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact, such prompt appearances! And 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 said a word. And no one moved except for Wormtail, who was still on the ground, sobbing over his bleeding arm.
"And I answer myself…" Voldemort whispered. "...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 proofs 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 Dumledore?"
Upon mentioning Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle all stirred, some even muttering and shaking their heads.
Voldemort just ignored them. "It is a disappointment to me… I confess myself disappointed…."
One of the men suddenly flung himself forwards, breaking the circle. He was trembling from head to foot as he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.
"Master!" he shrieked. "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"
Voldemort just laughed before he raised his wand "Crucio!"
The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked in agony.
Voldemort then raised his wand and the tortured Death Eater lay flat on the ground, gasping.
"Get up, Avery." Voldemort softly said. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen years… I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?"
He looked down at the still sobbing man.
"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, master…" Wormtail moaned. "...please, master… please…."
"Yet you helped return me to my body." Voldemort said coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me… and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers…."
Voldemort raised his wand again, whirling it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. It was momentarily shapeless until it writhed and formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which then soared dowards and fixed itself upon Wormtail's bleeding wrist.
His sobbing abruptly stopped. His breathing was now harsh and ragged as he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, which had attached seamlessly to his arm, like he was wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed his shining fingers, then, trembling, he picked up a small twig on the ground, crushing it into powder.
"My Lord." He whispered. "Master… it is beautiful… thank you… thank you…."
He scrambled forwards on his knees, kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes.
"May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail." Voldemort said.
"No, my Lord… never, my Lord…."
Wormtail stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his new hand, his face shining with tears.
Voldemort then approached the man on Wormtail's 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 towards finding and aiding your master?"
"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert." Lucius Malfoy's voice said swiftly 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?" Voldemort said lazily, making Lucius stop abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius… you have disappointed me… I expect more faithful service in future."
"Of course, my Lord, of course… you are merciful, thank you…."
Voldemort moved on and stopped, staring at the space that was large enough for two people, a space that separated Lucius and the next man.
"The Lestranges should stand here." Voldemort said 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…."
He walked on. He'd pass some of the Death Eaters in silence until he paused before others, speaking to them.
"Macnair… destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic, now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide…."
"Thank you, master… thank you." Macnair murmured.
"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?"
The two bowed clumsily, muttering dully.
"Yes, master…."
"We will, master…."
"The same goes for you, Nott." Voldemort said quietly as he walked past a stooped figure in Mr Goyle's shadow.
"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful -"
"That will do." Voldemort cut him off.
He then reached the largest gap of all, 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… 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 reentered my service."
The Death Eaters all stirred and Arthur saw their eyes dart sideways at each other through their masks, jealous of Crouch Jr.
"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived tonight…. Yes." Voldemort said, a grin now curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle now flashed in Arthur's direction, who glared at all of them with contempt. "Arthur Pendergast has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honour."
There was silence until Lucius Malfoy stepped forward and spoke through his mask.
"Master, we crave to know… 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." Voldemort said. "And it begins, and it ends, with my young friend here."
He walked lazily over to stand next to Arthur, which meant that every Death Eater would look at them. Nagini continued circling.
"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" Voldemort said softly, his red eyes on Arthur, whose scar now burned so bad that he nearly screamed in pure agony. "You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother 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 now raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Arthur's cheek. "His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice… this is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it… but no matter. I can touch him now."
Arthur felt the cold tip of his long white finger touch him and felt like his head would burst with how much pain he felt.
Voldemort laughed softly in his ear before taking the finger away, continuing on to address the Death Eaters. "I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. Myr curse deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon me. 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. What I was, even I do not know… I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal - to conquer death. And now, I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked… for I had not been killed, though the curse should have done it. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself… for I had no body, and every spell which might have helped me required the use of a wand…. I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist… I settled in a faraway place, in a forest, and I waited… surely, one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me… one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body… but I waited in vain…."
The shiver once more ran around the circle of Death Eaters and Voldemort let the silence spiral horribly before he continued. "Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me. I sometimes inhabited animals - snakes, of course, being my preference - but I was little better off inside them than as pure spirit… and my possession of them shortened their lives, none of them lasted long…. Then… four years ago… the means of my return seemed assured. A wizard, young, foolish and gullible, wandered across my path in the forest I had made my home. Oh, he seemed the very chance I had been dreaming of… for he was a teacher at Dumbledore's school… he was easy to bend to my will… he brought me back to this country, and after a while, I took possession of his body, to supervise him closely as he carried out my orders. But my plan failed. I did not manage to steal the Philosopher's Stone. I was not able to be assured immortal life. I was thwarted… thwarted, once again, by Arthur Pendergast…."
Silence fell again, though nothing was stirring, not even the leaves on the yew tree. The Death Eaters were all motionless, the glittering eyes in their masks were fixed upon Voldemort and Arthur.
"The servant died when I left his body, and I was left as weak as ever I had been." Voldemort continued. "I returned to my hiding place far away, and I will not pretend to you that I didn't then fear that I might never regain my powers… yes, that was perhaps my darkest hour… I could not hope that I would be sent another wizard to possess… and I had given up hope, now, that any of my Death Eaters cared what had become of me…."
One or two of the Death Eaters moved uncomfortably, but Voldemort didn't notice.
"And then, not even a year ago, when I had almost abandoned hope, it happened at last… a servant returned to me: Wormtail here, who had faked his own death to escape justice, was driven out of hiding by those he had once counted friends, and decided to return to his master. He sought me in the country where it had long been rumoured I was hiding… helped, of course, by the rats he met along the way. Wormtail has a curious affinity with rats, do you not, Wormtail? His filthy little friends told him there was a place, deep in an Albanian forest, that they avoided, where small animals like themselves had met their deaths by a dark shadow that possessed them…. But his journey back to me was not smooth, was it, Wormtail? For, hungry one night, on the edge of the very forest where he had hoped to find me, he foolishly stopped at an inn for some food… and whom should he meet there, but one Bertha Jorkins, a witch from the Ministry of Magic? Now see the way that fate favours Lord Voldemort. This might have been the end of Wormtail, and of my last hope of regeneration. But Wormtail, displaying a presence of mind I would never have expected of him, convinced Bertha Jorkins to accompany him on a night time stroll. He overpowered her… he brought her to me. And Bertha Jrokins, who might have ruined all, proved instead to be a gift beyond my wildest dreams… for, with a little persuasion, she became a veritable mine of information. She told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be played at Hogwarts this year. She told me that she knew of a faithful Death Eater who would be only too willing to help me, if I could only contact him. She told me many things… but the means I used to break the Memory Charm upon her were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from her, her mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. She had now served her purpose. I could not possess her. I disposed of her."
Voldemort made his terrible smile, his red eyes blank and pitiless. Arthur was truly disgusted by his lack of sympathy and mercy.
"Wormtail's body, of course, was ill adapted for possession, as all presumed him dead, and would attract far too much attention if seen. However, he was the able bodied servant I need, and poor wizard though he is, Wormtail was able to follow the instructions I gave him, which would return me to a rudimentary, weak body of my own, a body I would be able to inhabit while awaiting the essential ingredients for true rebirth… a spell of two of my own invention… a little help from my dear Nagini…" Voldemort's red eyes fell upon the large snake. "...a potion concocted from unicorn blood, and the snake venom Nagini provided… I was soon returned to an almost human form, and strong enough to travel. There was no hope of stealing the Philosopher's Stone any more, for I knew that Dumbledore would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortal. I set my sights lower… I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength. I knew that to achieve this, it is an old piece of dark magic, the potion that revived me tonight. I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant…. My father's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried. But the blood of a foe… Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormtail? Any wizard who had hated me… as so many of them still do. ButI knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Arthur Pendergast's blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago, for the lingering protection his mother once gave him, would then reside in my veins, too…. But how to get Arthur Pendergast? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there… then, of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup… I thought his protection might be weaker there, away from his relations and Dumbledore, but I was not yet strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of a horde of Ministry wizards. And then, the boy would return to Hogwarts, where he is under the crooked nose of that Muggle loving fool from morning until night. So how could I take him? Why… by using Bertha Jorkins' information, of course. Use my one faithful Death Eater, stationed at Hogwarts, to ensure that the boy's name was entered into the Goblet of Fire. Use my Death Eater to ensure the boy won the Tournament, that he touched the Triwizard Cup first, the Cup which my Death Eater had turned into a Portkey, which would bring him here, beyond the reach of Dumbeldore's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here he is… the boy you all believed had been my downfall…."
Voldemort then moved slowly forward, turning to face Arthur. He then raised his wand. "Crucio!"
It was pain beyond any that Arthur had ever felt. It was like his bones were on fire; his head felt like it would truly split open as his eyes rolled madly in his head. He just wanted it to end.
And then it was suddenly gone. He hung limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Voldemort's father, looking up at these red eyes with a supernova level rage and fury. The night also rang with the sound of the Death Eaters laughing.
"You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could ever have been stronger than me. But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Arthur Pendergast 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 mother 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, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."
If you ask me, Voldemort's biggest flaw is his ego.
