Heir of Merlin | Harry x Reader

Downfall

Let's get into it.

First Person POV - Y/n

"My Lord..." said Wormtail falling to his knees, "my Lord...you promised...you did promise..."

"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh, Master...thank you, Master..."

He extended the bleeding stump he had been holding, but Voldemort laughed again.

"The other arm, Wormtail."

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

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's other arm, and he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow.

The Dark Mark was there. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's 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.

My chest started hurting again and my hands were now glowing. It wasn't until Voldemort pulled away that it stopped.

With a cruel look, Voldemort straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

"Hey asshole," I yelled out, "Where the hell are we?"

"You stand, Y/n Emrys and Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly. "A Muggle and a fool...very like your dear mother, Harry Potter. 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 again. Up and down he paced, looking all around him as he walked, and the snake continued to circle in the grass.

"Worried no one's gonna come?" I asked, "It has been more than a decade since the infant versions of us killed you."

"Didn't do a good job though did you?" asked Voldemort, "Listen to me, reliving history while my true family returns."

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating.

"Traitorous bastards," whispered Harry as I looked around angrily.

All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward, cautiously, probably not believing their eyes.

Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them.

Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort, and kissed the hem of his black robes.

The Death Eaters behind him did the same, each of them approaching Voldemort on their knees and kissing his robes.

After that, they seemed to form a circle around the grave.

Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years...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," he said. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air."

A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare, to step back from him.