Voldemort was now thoroughly pleased with himself.
Under the plotting of his Death Eaters, he not only regained his physical form but also brought his archenemy directly before him.
At present, Voldemort was toying with Harry like a cat with a mouse.
He even found the mood to speak of his father to Harry.
"...You're standing on my father's bones," he hissed softly.
"He was a Muggle and a fool, much like your dear mother.
But they both had their uses, didn't they?
Your mother died protecting you when you were just a baby, and I killed my father.
You see, he has proven quite useful in death..."
He recounted the stories of his parents and his own birth while pacing between the graves, his eyes scanning the cemetery.
"...Listen to me, listen to my family history..." he murmured.
"Ah, it brings back memories... But look, Harry! My true family has returned..."
Suddenly, the air was filled with the rustling of cloaks.
Between the graves, behind the cedars, and in every shadowy corner, wizards' forms appeared.
They all wore hoods, concealing their faces.
Only the Death Eaters continued to wear this attire.
They approached slowly, cautiously, as if unable to believe their eyes.
Voldemort stood silently, waiting.
A Death Eater knelt down, crawled to Voldemort, and kissed the hem of his black robes.
"Master... Master..." he whispered.
Behind him, the other Death Eaters did the same, each kissing his robes before stepping aside, forming a circle around Tom Riddle's grave, Harry, Voldemort, and the groveling Peter Pettigrew in the middle.
There were still gaps in the circle, as if awaiting others to join.
Hermione and Fleur were too anxious to question Alaric about the shocking words he had just spoken.
They nervously covered their mouths, trying to discern the true identities behind the Death Eaters' hoods.
However, Voldemort seemed no longer expecting anyone else to come.
He surveyed the hooded faces, and though there was no wind, a faint rustling seemed to pass through the circle, as if shivering.
"Welcome, Death Eaters," Voldemort said calmly.
"Thirteen years... It has been thirteen years since our last gathering.
Yet you respond to my call as though it were yesterday... We still unite under the Dark Mark, do we not?"
"I smell guilt in the air," Voldemort continued. "The air reeks of guilt."
The Death Eaters in the circle shuddered again, as if each wanted to step back but dared not.
"I see you all, healthy and unchanged in magical prowess—so swiftly you came!" Voldemort exclaimed.
"I ask myself... why have these wizards not come to aid their master, the one to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"
Clearly, Voldemort was furious at the actions of his Death Eaters over the years. His rage stirred them to tremble.
One immediately fell to his knees begging for mercy, only to receive a Cruciatus Curse.
Finally, he rewarded Peter Pettigrew for resurrecting him—raising his wand, he traced a silver, melting-like band of light in the air.
Initially shapeless, the band twisted into a glowing hand, bright as moonlight, which flew down and settled on Peter's bleeding wrist.
Alaric clicked his tongue in admiration.
It seemed Voldemort was not merely a tyrant ruling through fear; he possessed some leadership skills after all.
After his return, he gathered his former followers and vented his anger at them.
However, despite his fury, he merely lifted and dropped the Death Eaters high and low, punishing only one with the Cruciatus Curse, instead of killing them in a fit of rage, showing his magnanimity.
After all, he still needed them to do his bidding, and this threat was sufficient to keep the Death Eaters obedient.
However, those who did not come were treated differently.
The Death Eaters who responded to the call could be forgiven, but those who didn't, well...
Furthermore, his reward to Peter was meant to demonstrate clear rewards and punishment.
Peter revived Voldemort out of fear of old friends like Lupin and Black, not out of loyalty.
After rewarding Peter, Voldemort approached a man on his right.
"Lucius, my cunning friend," he paused before the man, speaking softly.
"I hear you have not entirely abandoned your old ways, despite presenting a righteous facade to the world.
I trust you are still willing to lead in the torture of Muggles?
But you never sought me out, Lucius... your actions at the Quidditch World Cup were rather interesting...
But wouldn't it be better if you directed that energy toward finding and aiding your master?"
"Master, I have always been vigilant," Lucius Malfoy's voice quickly came from under his hood.
"At any sign from you, any rumor of your whereabouts, I would immediately come to you, nothing would stop me—"
"But last summer, when a loyal Death Eater sent my mark into the sky, you fled," Voldemort lazily said—Mr. Malfoy suddenly shut up.
"Yes, I know all about it, Lucius... you disappointed me... I hope you'll be more loyal to me in the future."
"Of course, master, of course... you are generous, thank you..."
Lucius Malfoy is a representative of the pure-blood family who sided with Voldemort.
Voldemort's words meant he wouldn't hold these people accountable anymore, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Then, Voldemort took two steps and stopped, looking at the gap between Mr. Malfoy and another person on his right—enough space for two people.
This was where the Lestranges should have been, but the loyal henchmen of Voldemort were still in Azkaban.
Voldemort loudly announced that he would rescue the Lestranges and give them a huge reward.
He also claimed that Dementors from Azkaban would join them.
Finally, he stood in front of a comical figure.
The man in front of him looked quite young, but he wore tattered old clothes, with an eye on his head, and a fake leg at his feet.
"That's the guy, wearing Professor Moody's clothes, but he's back to his original self," Hermione whispered.
This was Barty Crouch Jr., who had disguised himself as Moody using Polyjuice Potion.
"Ah, Barty Crouch Jr.," Voldemort examined him with hollow, red eyes.
"I know, you have been my most loyal servant, always serving me. Y
ou infiltrated Hogwarts alone, and thanks to your efforts, our little friend will be here tonight..."
Barty Crouch Jr. bowed proudly to Voldemort, and there was a small stir among the Death Eaters as they exchanged covert glances.
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