Out of The Shadows (Golden Trio Era) {1}

Returning to Thou Master

After a minute or so, he looked around at Harry again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face. "You stand, Harry Potter, 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 again. Up and down he paced, looking all around him as he walked, and the snake continued to circle in the grass. "You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? And you, Black? 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..." Voldemort paused for a moment, looking at the house in the distance that settled on the hill, before continuing on. 

"He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, 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, "Why, I am growing quite sentimental... But look, Harry! Mikayla! My true family returns..." To their horror, the air was suddenly full of swishing cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked with dark cloaks covering their bodies. One by one they moved forward. 

They were slow and cautious, as though they could hardly believe 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.  "Master... Master..." He murmured reverently. Mikayla removed Harry's gag. Slowly cutting the ropes that bind him immovable. As the Death Eaters formed a line, each of them approaching Voldemort on their knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Harry and Mikayla, Voldemort, the sobbing and twitching mess that was Wormtail. The Death Eaters left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people. Voldemort, however, did not seem to expect more. 

He looked around at the hooded faces, and though there was no wind, a rustling seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered. "Welcome, Death Eaters." Voldemort greeted them quietly. "Thirteen years... thirteen years since we last met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday... We are still untied 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 spoke, his voice amused. "There is a stench of guilt in 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. "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 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 Dumbledore?" At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them.  "It is a disappointment to me... I confess myself disappointed..."

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.  "Master!" He shrieked loudly. "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"  Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand, pointed it at the Death Eater, and said, "Crucio!" The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked. Mikayla was sure that the sound must carry to the houses around them. She prayed and mentally pleaded that the police would come. Voldemort lowered his wand and the tortured Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, gasping for air. "Get up, Avery." Voldemort sneered 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. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?" 

He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob. "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 and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downward and fixed itself upon Wormtail's bleeding wrist. Wormtail's sobbing stopped abruptly. 

His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers, then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder.  "My Lord," He whispered. "Master... it is beautiful... thank you... thank you..."  He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes. "May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail," Voldemort said, his voice hard. "No, my Lord... never, my Lord..."  Wormtail stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears. Voldemort now approached the man on Wormtail's right. 

"Lucius, my slippery friend," He whispered, halting before the Death Eater. "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 toward finding and aiding your master?"  "My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," Lucius Malfoy's voice came swiftly from beneath the hood. Mikayla scoffed, of course Lucius was in Voldemort's top ranks. "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 asked lazily, and Lucius stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius... You have disappointed me... I expect more faithful service in the future."  "Of course, my Lord, of course... You are merciful, thank you..." Voldemort moved on, and stopped, staring at the space, large enough for two people 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.

 Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others and spoke 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. Mikayla remembered him, he was the one who was set to execute Buckbeak.  "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?"  They 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 snapped. "And Fergal, spent your freedom raising two girls and helping the Minister fix things." Voldemort turns to face Mikayla, putting his hand on her cheek were she was sliced. "Family reunions are beautiful things are they, Fergal? I never expected you to raise a blood traitor."