Coup de Foudre [Fred Weasley] [4]

⚡️ Chapter 72 ⚡️

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. Death Eaters. Vega could only stare at them in shock through her smudgy vision, fear amplifying through her body.

We're... really going to die, aren't we?

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, murmuring incessantly –

"Master ... Master,"

All 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, Vega and Harry, Voldemort, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was Wormtail.

Yet they 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 rustling seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," Voldemort said 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?" He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening. "I smell guilt. There is a stench or 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. Vega could only hear her own blood pumping through her ears, and she was scared.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact – such prompt appearances!" Voldemort spoke. "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 – but Voldemort completely ignored them.

"It is a disappointment to me..." Voldemort said. "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, shrieking, "Master! Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked; Vega couldn't bear to watch and closed her eyes. Voldemort raised his wand. The tortured Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, gasping.