𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙃𝙚𝙞𝙧

ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴇᴀᴛᴇʀꜱ, ʀᴇᴠᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴛ

NOTE: Hey guys!

How are you guys doing? I can't believe the story is nearly over! Thank you so much for the love and support. You guys are amazing, really.

Here goes another chapter, I'm not sure how I feel about it, but I hope you enjoy it!

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Mia was paralysed by the sight in front of her. Voldemort was smoothing his clothes and kept his eyes fixed on Harry and Jamie. The two boys seemed to be just as in shock as she was, but Euphemia had the slight impression that the panic they must have been feeling was far greater than what she felt.

Euphemia noticed that the man's red eyes weren't paying attention to anything other than the two boys.

Voldemort let out a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

"My Lord... " the short man choked.

"My Lord... You promised... You did promise..."

"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh, Master... Thank you, Master..."

He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again.

"The other arm, Wormtail."

"Master, please... Please..."

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow, and Mia saw something upon the skin there, something she knew just what it was. A vivid red tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth.

The Dark Mark.

Voldemort examined it while ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.

"It is back," he said softly.

"They will all have noticed it... And now, we shall see... Now we shall know..."

He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.

Mia didn't understand what the man was doing, but Jamie and Harry's grimaces of pain were enough for her to comprehend that whatever it was, was somehow getting to them.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars.

"And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

The Dark Lord began to pace up and down before Harry, the weeping man, Jamie and Mia, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, he looked down at Harry and Jamie again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face.

"You stand, Euphemia Graham, Harry and Jamie Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly.

"A Muggle and a fool... I killed him, of course. See how useful he has proved himself to be in death..."

Mia grimaced at his words, and Voldemort laughed again. He paced up and down, looking around him as he walked, and the snake continued to circle in the grass.

"You see that house upon the hillside? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who 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 Potters, 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..."

Still, he paced, his red eyes darting from grave to grave.

"Listen to me, reliving family history..." he said quietly.