|Lord Voldemort (tot_riddle) wrote in time_of_trial,|
@ 2009-11-02 23:39:00
|Entry tags:||character: peter pettigrew, character: tom riddle/lord voldemort|
Who: Lord Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew
What: The Rise of the Dark Lord
Where: Little Hangleton
When: Late Evening
Warnings: None at the current
The house in Little Hangleton was quiet that night, the residents long deceased- no one had moved into the home. There were whispers in the town that it was haunted by the murdered residents. Things had been especially bad there lately, residents had claimed they heard screaming coming from the home.
That was what kept the muggles away, and that was why Peter Pettigrew continue to let that lore live on in the village.
The keeper of the old building had been easy enough for Peter to dispose of, and it had taken him night after night to finally collect everything that he would need for his final project. He had come too far now to fail, it was simply not an option. If he failed, he would die, he would not let the Auror's find him and bring him back to Azkaban. This was something he needed to do alone for his Master, none of the others could know. He wanted to reward for himself.
The final piece to the puzzle was the blood of James Potter, his son had been impossible to get too, even with the distraction in Hogsmeade. He hoped that though this was not exactly what the Potion called for, that it would be enough. He stared into the bubbling cauldron, a moments thrill running through the short mans body as he tipped his hand over the flames. The blood seemed to fall in slow motion as he watched in awe. The Potion started to sizzle, and then there was an explosion that sent the man falling against the opposite wall.
A shriek echoed through the empty home, and Peter tried to shield himself from the wind and the sound. He had failed! There was no bringing the Dark Lord back unless he had the blood of that child, the child who was untouchable! The winds died down, the shrieking stopped and when Peter glanced back he was quite surprised what he saw. In a pool of black robes stood a snake like figure, with nearly translucent skin and cutting red eyes.
"Wormtail.." A hiss echoed through the room, and a chill ran over the other mans body. "My Lord!" he shrieked, falling to the feet of the snake-looking man. "My wand.." the hissing continued, as Peter shook his head. "With Bellatrix Lestrange, My Lord. As instructed." he whispered, his voice shaking. The other man narrowed his eyes. "Keep moving, let no one know what occurred here today." he whispered, disappearing in a pop and leaving a very stunned looking man in his absence.
The Dark Lord had risen again.