The Hidden Hero

Chapter-19 The Dark Lord Rises

"Robe me," Lord Voldemort commanded his moaning servant. Wormtail hastened to obey, picking up the robes and draping them over the newly risen dark wizard.

Lord Voldemort ran his hands lovingly down his new body, reveling in his corporeal form. When his hand touched his wand, he stopped and slowly placed his hand inside the robe pocket and gently withdrew the wand. He gazed at it reverently. Then, he raised his eyes to Harry and smirked in triumph.

"I have arisen, Mark Twist. Delayed, it is true, by your actions in preventing me from possessing the Sorcerer's Stone. But, I am back now. Back, and ready to reclaim my natural right as the master of this world."

With a flick of his wand, he summoned Wormtail to him. The crying, moaning man floated a few feet above the air until he dangled limply in front of the other wizard. Voldemort pulled up the sleeve of Wormtail's robe and looked at the Dark Mark burning on the man's arm. "It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it…and now, we shall see…now we shall know…" He pressed a finger to the mark and Wormtail cried out in pain. Behind his gag, Harry cried out too as his scar gave another throb of pain.

Soon, the graveyard was full of apparating wizards who had responded to Voldemort's summons. The masked figures appeared unable to believe their eyes as they saw the Dark Lord, returned after an absence of thirteen years. One by one, the Death Eaters fell to their knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes, obsequiously calling him "Master."

As Voldemort greeted his followers, chastising them for not having done more to look for him during his years in exile, Harry leaned his head back against the headstone and tried to calm his thoughts. Here was the day he had been expecting since Aunt Petunia had told him four years ago that he had been born to defeat a psychopathic wizard terrorizing the wizarding world. His mother had boasted that he was a hero. Today was obviously the day when he would have to defeat Voldemort. Right?

But, Harry didn't believe himself. Who was he kidding? There was no way he could defeat Voldemort. There was Cedric's lifeless body, bearing mute testament to the ruthless efficiency with which Voldemort dealt with anyone who stood in his way. Just a few steps away, Voldemort was effortlessly conjuring a silver hand to replace Wormtail's missing limb. Surrounded by his Death Eaters, Voldemort looked like the Prince of Darkness. How was he, a fourteen year old boy, going to defeat him?

In a dull fog, Harry watched as Voldemort continued to berate his followers, performing the cruciatus curse on a few in punishment for their failure to be more loyal during his time of need. Harry recognized Lucius Malfoy among the Death Eaters.

Voldemort reached a gap in the circle of his Death Eaters. Harry's eyes widened when Voldemort said, of one of his missing followers, "He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived tonight…"

Harry felt as if the puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place. Here was the danger he had feared from the moment his name had been pulled from the Goblet of Fire. A Death Eater had obviously put his name into the Goblet and set in motion the events that had led Harry to this graveyard now, tied to a headstone, waiting for Voldemort to kill him. Was it Snape? Karkaroff? Barty Crouch Sr.? Someone else?

The Death Eaters all stared at Harry and Voldemort continued. "Yes, Mark Twist has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honor." As if sensing the tension in the air, the snake slithered fretfully around the base of the headstone where Harry was tied. Voldemort strode over to stand next to Harry so that, when he spoke, the eyes of the Death Eaters were on both of them.