Chapter Thirty-Two: The Return of the Dark Lord Voldemort
Voldemort eventually left the next morning. He had sat up all night beside Harish with Dobby popping in and bringing him tea around four in the morning. Eventually, he couldn't stand the wait and left, claiming that he had to go to work that evening. Although he would never admit it, the stress and the worry were overpowering. Normally, he didn't worry about other people being hurt. But since this was the one boy he cared for, the thought of losing him was unbearable. It honestly would have been kinder to him if Dumbledore hadn't told him his son wasn't hurt at all, but unfortunately the world did not work like that.
So Voldemort stumbled out of the floo the next morning looking pale with dark circles under his eyes. He dropped his cloak over the arm of his chair before stumbling over to the couch and falling fast asleep. Bellatrix, who stumbled across him on her way to breakfast, ended up draping a blanket over him and he slept the rest of the day until it was only an hour before he had planned to call all of his Death Eaters once again.
When he did wake up, he frantically hopped up off of the couch and changed into a clean set of robes, making sure his hair was combed and that he no longer looked like death warmed over. Then, he went over the plans he and Bellatrix had made for the upcoming war. Finally, that evening, he called up all of his Death Eaters, including the ones who hadn't known he was not dead.
All over the Wizarding World, people's Dark Marks burned. In an unplottable and shadowed location, Jugson scoffed. He would never return to his old master. In Azkaban, the Lestrange brothers began cackling as their marks burned. They knew their Lord was coming for them. Igor Karkaroff ran, abandoning his students. The man thought it would be better to commit suicide rather than returned to the ranks where he would be killed for betraying the Dark Lord's followers. Alone in his home, Barty Crouch Jr. Disapparated, happy that his master had finally called for him. Soon, people were appearing in Voldemort's meeting room with cracks.
Meanwhile, Severus Snape was giving Harish Blake a potion. In the room were Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore. The boy had yet to wake up. As Snape set the empty potion vial down, he hissed and clutched at his arm.
"What is it, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.
Snape gritted his teeth and rolled up the sleeve. Immediately after Voldemort's supposed death, the Dark Mark had faded to almost nothing as the Dark Lord cut off his connection with his Death Eaters. Slowly, over the year the mark had been darkening until it looked like a mere slightly faded tattoo during the third task. Now, however, the Dark Mark looked as dark as the day he had received it; pitch black.
"I've been telling you that the Dark Mark has been growing stronger?" he asked.
Dumbledore nodded in reply.
"He is calling," Snape said.
Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose. This was too soon. He had not anticipated the war starting back for several years. He thought quickly.
"You must go to him," Dumbledore replied. "He must think that you are his most trusted follower. Tell him that you continued working for me to spy on me."
Snape nodded. Then, he pulled his sleeve down over his mark and strode briskly out of the infirmary. Once he had reached the edge of Hogwarts's grounds, he disappeared with a crack.
The man reappeared in an unknown location. The first thing he noticed was that he was surrounded by other Death Eaters. They were all wearing masks and black robes. The second thing he noticed was the room he was in.
On the left hand side of the room was a large black cabinet. There were shelves lining the right hand side that were full of dark objects. At the front of the room was a raised platform with a high back chair in the center of it. There were two people, standing on either side of the chair. Both were wearing masks, but it wasn't hard for Snape to figure out who they were. The one on the right (his right, the other's left) had a mass of dark curls that fell onto her shoulders. The one on the left had straight blonde hair and was holding a cane that ended with a skull.
He knew that the two people were Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy.
But his eyes did not linger on them long as he realized who it was sitting in the high backed chair. His initial impression was that this man was Voldemort. He was not wearing a mask, so it was possible to get a look at his face. The instant Snape did, he realized that it was Anata Blake. The professor's eyes widened, but he wisely chose not to say anything. Then, the man caught sight of him and spoke.
"You are late," he said in a cold voice.
"My lord," Snape said, getting onto one knee and bowing his head.
"Get up," the man snapped. "I realize you still work for Dumbledore?"
"Yes," Snape replied ashamedly. "I remained at Hogwarts to spy on him. I, of course, knew that you were not truly gone."
"Very well," Voldemort replied. "I think it would be most beneficial if you stay there." The Dark Lord turned and addressed the other Death Eaters. "The time has finally come to restart the war. I know some of you might be surprised to find that I am still alive. Some of you might even doubt that I am actually your Lord Voldemort. I have changed faces, after all. But doubt not, for I can assure you that if you would wish, I can demonstrate my power." An uneasy tension filled the air. Everyone knew what happened when Lord Voldemort showed his power—people ended up being hurt. "No? Perfect. Now, Barty? Is Barty Crouch here?"
Barty Crouch stepped forward.
"I am here, my lord."
"I commend you," Voldemort said with a smile. "Not only did you go looking for me, but you managed to escape Azkaban as well. You were one of the few Death Eaters that still believe I was alive."
"Thank you, my lord," Barty replied eagerly.
Voldemort paused and his eyes roamed across all of his followers.
"Look at you all, standing there," he said in almost a whisper. Everyone heard him perfectly. "Thirteen years…thirteen years since we last met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday…We are still united under our masks then! Or are we?"
He looked around at them all, knowing quite well what most of them did to avoid prison. They denied ever following him. They pleaded that they had been under the Imperious Curse, forced to attack Muggles. They had even sold out other Death Eaters just to avoid being left to the mercy of the dementors. Finally, Voldemort spoke again.
"I have asked myself how you could possibly not believe that I would rise again. That I would return…you, who knew the steps I had taken to bring a new era into the Wizarding World. You, who have seen the immense power with which I have demonstrated?"
"But then I answered myself, perhaps they believed a greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort…perhaps they now pay allegiance to another…perhaps that champion of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"
At the mention of Dumbledore's name, his followers stirred and muttered, shaking their heads. Voldemort ignored them.
"It is a disappointment to me…I confess myself disappointed."
One of the Death Eaters broke forward, trembling, and threw himself at the foot of the platform.
"Master!" he shrieked. "Master forgive me! Forgive us all!"
"Get up!" Voldemort barked. Then, he said in a much softer voice, "There are a few of you missing, however. The Lestrange brothers, who went to Azkaban rather than renounce me…Three also died in my service…and one who has fled. He will pay, of course."
One of the Death Eaters stepped forward once again. This time, it was Nott.
"Please, my Lord," he said. "Some of us are wishing to know…where have you been all this time?"
"A good question!" Voldemort replied with a smile. "I have been waiting. Oh, how long I have been waiting! I knew that the Ministry was growing stronger. I knew we only had a matter of time before we would be overpowered…So I decided to lull the public into a sense of false security. I knew that if everyone believed me dead, then they would grow comfortable. And indeed they have. But no matter, we will overtake them easily this time…"
Voldemort conveniently neglected to tell them that the main reason he disappeared was because of the boy he was forced to care for. Snape realized he was working for two monsters. Dumbledore—who had promised to protect Lily, but had sacrificed her to see if Harry was the prophecy boy. Now, there was Voldemort, who had promised to spare Lily but ended up killing her and adopted her son as his own.
Snape remembered his own words he had spoken years ago.
"My lord — the prophecy — it only speaks of one with the power to vanquish you. Not that he actually will vanquish you — this power could prove to be useful to you…"
It seemed as though the man had actually taken his advice for once. Snape couldn't decide whether this was a good or bad thing—at least Harry wasn't being used as Dumbledore's puppet, being blindly leaded to his death; as Snape was sure was what would have happened o Harry had he not been taken in by Voldemort…
"But the Lestranges, Barty, and all of the other Death Eaters were arrested because of your disappearance," another Death Eater pointed out. "How will you replace them?"
"Another excellent question," Voldemort replied. "We will gain them back once we have control of Azkaban…the dementors will easily join us as we are their natural allies. We will also recall the banished giants. I will have an army once more."
Voldemort continued to talk for some time, explaining his plans—to an extent—and giving out orders. He had ordered several Death Eaters to go and reach out to the giants. He also spoke to the ones that were working for the Ministry of Magic, telling them to see if they can achieve more influential roles in the Ministry.
Finally, Voldemort said, "Now go and do as I have told you. I want you all to leave this room except Severus."
Severus was slightly shocked for a moment as the Death Eaters disappeared, the room filling with pops. Lucius Apparated from beside Voldemort and Bellatrix, Snape noted, did not Disapparate, but simply walked from the room. Then, Voldemort turned on Snape.
"Severus," he said. "I realize that the only way you can remain a spy for me is if you act spy for Dumbledore. If he asks you what happened today, you may tell him about my plans to send envoys to the giants. I know he will already suspect me of planning to do that anyhow. And, as I am planning to become public within the year, I do not mind you telling him who I am."
"You mean acting as Anata Blake, my lord?"
Voldemort's mouth twitched into a smile for a brief second.
"Yes," he replied. "You may leave now."
Severus nodded and prepared to Disapparate, but he paused and blurted out rather suddenly, "Is he happy?"
"I beg your pardon?" Voldemort asked. "Harry. Is he happy with you?"
Voldemort seemed to consider this before replying, "Why don't you ask him yourself? When he wakes, of course."
Snape nodded and turned on his heel, Apparating to Hogsmeade. As he walked back up to the castle, he couldn't help but remember Voldemort's face as he had sat by Harry Potter's side. The man had only looked that worried when he had thought that no one was looking. Could it possibly be that the Dark Lord Voldemort had come to care for the boy?