Wish Upon A Star

Voldemort's rise

Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

A laugh that made the blood in Ashlyn's veins run cold, as her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. Her breathing was short and uneven.

"My Lord . . ." Wormtail 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 . . ."

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

Ashlyn heard Harry's muffled screams as Voldemort touched Wormtail's, Dark Mark.

"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?"

He began to pace up and down before Harry and Wormtail, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. 

"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? 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 . . ."

'Happy thoughts, happy thoughts' Ashlyn screamed in her head, lest she might pass out at this rate. She couldn't even breath properly for fear. 

'Just a book, girl It's just a book. Harry'll manage. He'll be safe. Cedric will be safe. That's why you are here,' she told her self.

'And look at good ol' Voldy, like all villains talking about his past,' she tried joking.

"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. . . .Listen to me, reliving family history... .why, I am growing quite sentimental. . . . But look, Harry! My true family returns. . . ." Voldemort said

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. 

Ashlyn pointed her wand at herself, disillusioning herself again, just in case.

Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward . . . slowly, cautiously, 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.

The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Harry, Voldemort, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was Wormtail. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people.