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chapter sixty-four

DEATH EATERS

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He was back. He was back, and all Verena could think about was to not be killed. She wished for mercy although she knew it wouldn't come. She knew she would see another friend die. She knew that she would be taken by him to be used and abused. She hoped that her family might stand by her side, but she knew they would be too afraid to. She would have no one.

"My family!" the Dark Lord said with a rare gleefulness.

Verena looked up at the sky. There were lines of black wisps in the air, hurtling towards the ground. They came from all different directions and landed in the graveyard, surrounding the Dark Lord.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," the Dark Lord said, and they all bowed their heads. "Thirteen years it's been... thirteen years since last we met. Yet, you answer my call as though it were yesterday... We are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?

"I smell guilt. There is a stench of guilt upon the air. I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers still 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?

"And I answer myself," he 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 knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen no proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?

"And I answer myself, perhaps they still 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 Dumbledore? It is a disappointment to me... I confess myself disappointed... "

One of the Death Eaters walked forward, breaking the circle. He collapsed at the Dark Lord's feet, his hands trembling.

"Master! Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

He laughed, raised his wand, and said, "Crucio!"

Verena couldn't watch. She heard his screams in pain and agony. It was almost as though she were feeling every stab herself. She would have liked to see it – she thought she would like to see the people who tortured Dahlia in pain, but she didn't; she felt guilty.

"Get up, Avery," the Dark Lord said softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years... I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?"

Wormtail was still sobbing, grasping his wrist tightly as blood seeped through his robes.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends," said the Dark Lord. "You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," Wormtail replied. "Please. Master... please... "

"Yet you helped return me to my body," said Voldemort, staring down at him. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me... and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers... "

The Dark Lord took his wand and waved it in the air. A substance that looked like molten silver appeared and moulded itself into a replica of a human hand. It then set itself upon Wormtail's bleeding wrist.