Percy Jackson and the Triwizard Tournament [Book 4]

136) Lord Voldemort Touches Himself

The cauldron stopped sparking all at once. The liquid stilled, and white steam rose above it. The steam was so thick I couldn't see anything except for Harry.

I choked back a sob. The pain, the fear, the loss, it was all standing in front of me in the form of a figure cloaked by steam.

"Robe me," The cold, high voice of Voldemort ordered Wormtail. Pettigrew groaned, whimpered, then scrambled to his feet, clutching his stump as he went and picked up the robes. He pulled them one-handed over his master's head.

The man — thin and pale — stepped out of the cauldron, staring past me and at Harry. I was simultaneously relieved and horrified. Relieved because his focus wasn't on me, and horrified because of what he would do to Harry.

As Voldemort grew closer, I realized this was just a stronger form of the last — one just as accurate. Cold, cruel, ugly, and powerful. His skin was whiter than a skull's, and his wide eyes were a painful scarlet. His nose was flatter than a snake's.

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

***

He was quick to bring his attention off of Harry, for that of which I am grateful. I felt as if he wouldn't find much use for either of us now that the deed had been done. The less he thought of us, the better.

Instead, Voldemort focused on his body. His fingers, long and similar to a spider's legs, caressed his body. He seemed pleased with whatever he was finding. He held his hands in front of him, examining them raptly.

He didn't seem to pay attention to anything but himself. He didn't mind Wormtail, who was gasping and whimpering. He didn't address the great snake that had started slithering around the headstone. He didn't focus on mine or Harry's pained, exhausted breaths.

Voldemort dipped one of his long fingers into the pocket of his robes, and pulled out a wand. He gently ran his fingers along it, as he had been doing to his own reborn body moments before.

In a flash of a second, Voldemort raised his wand at Pettigrew, and the man slammed against the headstone at our feet. He curled up and whimpered in pain. It was pitiful. He deserved it, truly, but I couldn't help but feel sympathy. I didn't do anything, probably due to the fact that the sympathy was buried deep within mountains of other emotions.

"My Lord..." Wormtail choked, his robes wrapped around his stump, "my Lord... you promised... you did promise..."

"Hold out your arm," Voldemort said carelessly.

"Oh Master... thank you, Master..." he held out his bleeding stump.

Voldemort laughed — high and unkind, filled with ice and lacking life, "The other arm, Wormtail."

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

Voldemort didn't bother with letting Wormtail do it himself. He bent down, grabbed Pettigrew's left arm, and forced his sleeve up. My stomach churned. The Dark Mark was imprinted on his arm, red and raw and twisting. It was more vivid than the black one I'd seen on Snape's arm. It was crueler. Voldemort stared at it for a long moment, examining the mark with a gleam in his eyes, ignoring Wormtail's cries.

"It is back," Voldemort spoke with a gentleness I didn't think him capable of, "they will all have noticed it... and now, we shall see... now we shall know...." He pressed his index finger against the mark, and it turned jet black. Darker than Snape's, vivid in its evilness. Harry stiffened beside me, and when I glanced at him, his face was scrunched up in pain.

Voldemort straightened quickly, powerfully. He stared around the graveyard in fascination. "How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it? And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

He paced up and down before us, eyeing the graveyard in slight anticipation. After about a minute, he turned, his eyes landing on Harry.

A cruel smile twisted his face, "You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father. 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 he has proved himself, in death...." He laughed again, and began pacing, looking up and down as he moved. "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...

"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...." He kept pacing, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. "Listen to me, reliving family history... why, I am growing quite sentimental.... But look, Harry! My true family returns...."

This is my favorite chapter title. Mmm. A lot of stuff has been going on at my school as of late. Drama. Someone stole some faucets. The school said he'd just get suspended if he gave them back. He said no and now has a court date. There was also a rape. That was terrible. It was a boy in my class, I may have mentioned him before. I carried him. Didn't seem like a terrible person, but I know that you can't always tell. It was him, he's a 10th grader, and an 8th grade girl. I was told at first that he dragged her into the bathroom and did it in there. Terrible stuff. Then my cousin says that the boy said that the girl gave consent, and regretted it afterwards, so told everyone it was a rape. Not gonna lie, it was believable. I decided not to believe anything until I had more concrete proof of one side over the other. I got that proof today. He came back to school. If it had been non consensual, he wouldn't be back. They must have checked the cameras. That was wild. I don't think it was right for him to do that with an 8th grader, but I also don't think that in itself is terrible. Just bad. This next story is funny, minus the bad parts. Long time ago, but not that long, there was a fifth grade teacher who had sex with some of her students. This one boy in my class brought her up when we were talking about all that's been going on. We had a substitute teacher that day. He got pulled back by her after class, though he hadn't really done anything wrong. Today I asked his sister what happened, and it turns out that he got snapped at cause the sub was the fifth grade teacher's mom. Hilarious. Bad stuff, but I've got a special place in my heart for dark humor. Funneh.

Anyway, I hope you guys have had a tasty Tuesday, and I'll see you on Thursday CT. Love ya!