The Other Potter. Book Four.

The end

Hmm, I think I have a cold.

Yeah, I have a bit of a sore throat.

It’s a bit dry.

I hope I don’t have to cough.

That would suck.

I guess that isn’t really important, seeing how Voldemort was laughing.

“My Lord . . ." Wormtail choked, "my Lord . . . you promised . . . you did promise ..." 
"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily. 
"Oh Master . . . thank you, Master ..." 

"The other arm, Wormtail." 
"Master, please . . .please ..." 

Now I have no idea what is going on.

I need to get Harry, get Cedric’s body, and get the fricking hell outta here.

Cedrics body...

I really just thought that.

It’s still Cedric.

Why was I ever mean to him?

Why?

"It is back," Voldemort said softly, "they will all have noticed it...and now, we shall see...now we shall know...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?" 

I wonder if I could set Voldemort on fire, just for laughs.

I then started to imagine what he would look like.

I imagined someone like Hagrid, but orange and with massive eyes.

I bet he’d have a big nose.

A really massive nose.

"Listen to me, reliving family history . . ." Voldemort was saying quietly, "why, I am growing quite sentimental. . . .”I managed to miss his sentiments. “But look, Harry! My true family returns. . . ." 
The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked.

One apparated beside me, and looked me full in the face before continuing forward. Silent.

“Master . . . Master “one murmured. 

I don’t know if it is an advantage or disadvantage that I can’t see them.

"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 or guilt upon the air. 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 spoke. No one moved except Wormtail, who was upon the ground, still sobbing.
"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "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 Dumbledore? It is a disappointment to me ... I confess myself disappointed..."