Tom landed once again in the pensive, he was getting used to the sensation given the number of times he'd been dragged both in and out of the thing this evening. Truthfully though he wasn't really paying all that much attention to the sensations that it aroused within him. He was feeling more than just a little numb, perhaps even a mild case of shock, seeing himself trying to murder the wizard he loved (multiple times!) would do that to anyone.
Admittedly he hadn't seen any more memories of himself yet, the ones he had just seen were pieces of Hadrian's third year of Hogwarts. Which had made him furious at Dumbledore yet again, how dare he allow Dementors to enter Hogwarts! In the process endangering Hadrian who had fallen fifty foot from his damn broomstick. If he'd thought that was bad, he'd had to endure the sight of Hadrian surrounded by hundreds of Dementors in the process of having his soul sucked out. Admittedly seeing him casting a patronus as weak as he had been, and the sight of it had left him momentarily speechless and his mind had just frozen too. Seeing that he had realized it was little wonder Dumbledore hadn't left anything to chance, Hadrian was just too powerful to risk him finding out he was more inclined towards the dark arts…to his side.
Blinking at the sight before him, he didn't need an explanation, it was the exact same spot Hadrian had Apparated him here when he had gotten revenge on both his father and uncle. This was Little Hangleton, and up the hill stood Riddle Mansion, but not as he remembered it. It was derelict by the look of it, his eyes narrowed at the closeness between Harry and Diggory, even he couldn't deny the boy was handsome. Not that it lasted long, before he noticed movement, and the raspy words 'Kill the spare' followed by green light speeding towards the seventh year and end his life.
"Another pureblood family gone, Cedric Diggory was the only heir to the Diggory family, Amos Diggory did not have another heir, in fact he became a shadow of his former self when he lost his son." Hadrian commented, digging just a little at Tom's indignation, he knew Tom loathed the thought of all those pureblood lines being lost…to know it was him was probably hitting him even harder, although admittedly it would hit him harder when he had a chance to process the fact.
Tom gritted his teeth as he stared at the body, his scathing glare almost begged the damn dead body to get back up.
His scathing glare was redirected when the disgusting rat he had the misfortune of calling a follower dared to manhandle what was his. Death Eaters, another thing he was in revulsion of, why the hell would he call his followers Death Eaters? He had so many questions he wanted to ask Hadrian, he wasn't sure how many would be answered, but he was hoping at least some of them would. Unfortunately he doubted he'd ever get an answer to why he was idiotic enough to give his followers a name like that.
Tom followed Pettigrew, watching what he was doing with an air of interest, watching the ingredients he put into the man sized cauldron, understanding beginning to dawn on him, this was some sort of ritual used to restore someone to their body if his knowledge and calculations were right and he knew he was right despite the fact his Ancient Runes and Arithmancy wasn't exactly one hundred percent yet, he was only up to his sixth year and some of those calculations and runes were admittedly above even someone as intelligent and smart as he was.
"Amazing isn't it?" Hadrian said joining him, "You created this yourself, I hid out in Riddle Mansion when I was on the run from my so called friends, I found a lot of your rituals, I couldn't help but admire you even then. You were fucking brilliant despite everything, I was probably there for the longest amount of time that I managed to hide anywhere before they tracked me."
Despite the situation Tom felt only smug satisfaction that Hadrian thought so highly of him. That was until he caught sight of the homunculus, a curl of his lips was the only thing showing his repulsion. While self-preservation had always been one of his strongest desires, he'd never wanted this. The homunculus was dropped into the concoction, and Pettigrew began the ritual that would return the homunculus to a true body.
"Bone of the father unknowingly given; shall renew your son!" the earth beneath Harry's feet began to shift, then partials began to float in mid air, directed by Pettigrew into the cauldron, the cauldron itself exploded into a different colour, indicating that the first of the steps in the ritual had been completed successfully.
"Flesh of the servant, willingly given: shall revive your Master!" and with that both hardened teens watched as Pettigrew cut off his own hand with a knife, before clutching the bloody stump in obvious agony.
Tom was already beginning to suspect what the last ingredient was, it was confirmed moments later as he helplessly watched Pettigrew weakly make his way over to Harry, slicing into his arm, he hated seeing Harry that way. The urge to curse the disgusting wizard was so strong, but it was merely a memory, there was nothing he could do to make up for his future atrocities. Harry was terrified, and it didn't help that Hadrian and Harry looked alike, mostly, minus the glasses and the messy hair.
"Blood of the enemy forcefully taken: you shall resurrect your foe," Pettigrew then stepped back, the cauldron was frothing, bubbling crazily, then without much pause, a figure stood up the homunculus gone, replaced by a newly resurrected Dark Lord who inspected his new body with fascination, paying close attention to his fingers.
Tom barely managed to stop himself choking, if he had thought the vision of him that he had seen in Godric's Hollow was bad…it was nothing on the sight in front of him. This figure looked more snake than human, he had no nose! No lips! No hair! Harry had his face clenched up as if he was in unbearable agony, had he been cursed? No, it wasn't possible yet there was undeniable proof that he was in pain. Which caused him to clench his fists and grit his teeth. He did take satisfaction in the fact Pettigrew was thrown clear through the air, and landed next to the grave Harry was bound to. The wizard continued to plead, saying that 'he' had promised, it looked as though he would acquiesce to the pleading only to laugh at his followers suffering.
"What is that?" Tom asked staring at the Pettigrew's arm intently.
"The Dark Mark, Voldemort uses' it to summon his followers, it is also a identifying feature that causes those marked to be found out." Hadrian commented, "If you do something like that in future, do it so that each mark is different and put them in different places, that way it isn't as obvious." he suggested.
Tom nodded thoughtfully, critically analyzing the mark for a few moments, slotting Hadrian's ideas for future inspection and thought.
"It is back," said Voldemort softly, "They will all have noticed it…and now, we shall see…now we shall know…" Then Voldemort touched the tattoo with his finger; just then Harry's scar seared with pain. The tattoo had gone black now, and he watched Pettigrew scream in agony.
"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" the Dark Lord whispered once more, his red eyes gleaming. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"
"You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," Voldemort hissed softly, "A Muggle and a fool…very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child…and I killed my father; see how useful he has proven himself, in death…"
"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was…he didn't like magic, my father…he left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage…but I vowed to find him…I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name…Tom Riddle…"
"Listen to me, reliving family history…" Voldemort said quietly. "Why, I am growing quite sentimental…But look, Harry! My true family returns…" and the sound of Apparation filled the graveyard, everyone dressed in black with their masks adorned their faces. Answering the call of their Master even after all this time without so much as a hint of reluctance.
"You always keep that flare for dramatics," Hadrian teased him, but all he got in turn was a blank look from Tom he obviously didn't know how to respond to everything. Maybe he shouldn't show him everything tonight, it was getting late…but he feared if he stopped then he would chicken and not show him everything as he promised.
"Welcome, Death Eaters," Voldemort said. "Thirteen years…thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it was yesterday…we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"
"I smell guilt," Voldemort whispered, "There is a stench of guilt upon the air."
The black clad figures didn't dare move, they stood just as still as the statues surrounding the graveyard.
"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact ― such prompt appearances! And I ask myself…why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their Master, to whom they'd swore eternal loyalty?"
Tom frowned, there weren't many wizards there, he had more people willing to follow him now than he had in the future. There was one figure there that he knew without further confirmation on who it was, a relative of Abraxas Malfoy for certain. The masks obscured them, preventing him from figuring out who they were, and which families had remained loyal to him over the years.
"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "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?"
He had every Death Eater present frozen stiller than statues; he had them hanging on every word, and if Tom was honest…it was a sight to behold even though he felt nothing but disgust for this disfigured version of himself.
"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 of another…perhaps even to that champion of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore!"
Every Death Eaters had all flinched at those words, and began shaking their heads, muttering and denying the accusation levelled their way.
"It's a disappointment to me… I confess myself disappointed."
The Death Eaters were kneeling before Voldemort, begging for forgiveness, only for one to be hit with the Cruciatus Curse that had the wizard in unendurable agony.
"Get up, Avery," Voldemort softly said, "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years…I want thirteen years of repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?
Tom's eyes narrowed calculatingly, still trying to see Avery but failing to do so, the mask must have some sort of spell to keep it attached otherwise it would have fallen off immediately upon his fall, writhing under the Cruciatus Curse.
"It's not our Avery," Hadrian commented, understanding Tom's actions and reactions, "It's his son, there aren't many of the old circle alive, I believe Nott is the only one from our circle still alive in this time."
"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?" Voldemort asked, as if curious what denial he might get.
"Yes, Master," moaned Wormtail, "Please, master…please…"
"Yet you helped return me to my body," said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sobbing on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me…and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers…"
"Of course, I could be wrong," Hadrian admitted wryly. "There could be a few in Azkaban, but the way they continue to reuse their names it makes it impossible to figure out who is who."
"Azkaban?" Tom murmured quietly, calculatingly, perhaps he had more of a following than he thought after all.
"And here we have six missing Death Eaters…three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return…he will pay. Two who remain my most faithful servants, one of whom has already re-entered my service," Voldemort whispered, sounding thoughtful.
"He is at Hogwarts, my faithful servant…and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived tonight…" Voldemort continued. "Yes, Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honour."
"Master, we crave to know…we beg you to tell us…how you have achieved this…this miracle…how you managed to return to us…" Lucius simpered ingratiatingly.
Only six? Tom thought perplexed.
"He's not including the ones in Azkaban," Hadrian snorted, for a wizard who had impeccable control over his emotions, he was very easy to read sometimes, but only sometimes. He was silently amazed that Tom had yet to raise his wand to him, but there was time enough for that.
"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius, and it begins and ends with my young friend here." Tom narrowed his eyes as Voldemort stalked forward towards Harry whoinhaled sharply at the pain in his scar, as Voldemort's long white fingers hovered just inches from his skin. "You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?"
"You all know that the night I lost my powers and my body, I had tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him ― and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen…I could not touch the boy," Voldemort admitted, his red eyes gleaming wickedly as he leaned further into Harry's face; if he'd had a nose, it would have been pressed against Harry's. "His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice…this is old magic. I should have remembered it; I was foolish to overlook it…but no matter, I can touch him now."
Harry's face spasmed in agony at the touch, but didn't so much .Voldemort laughed in his ear, before turning away from him again to address the Death Eaters.
"I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon me. Aaahh…pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body; I was less than a spirit, less than the meanest ghost…but still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know…I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal: to conquer death. And now, I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked…for I had not been killed, though the curse should have done me in. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself…for I had no body and every spell which might have helped me required the use of a wand. I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist…I settled in a faraway place, in a forest, and I waited…surely one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me…one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body…but I waited in vain…"
"Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me. I sometimes inhabited animals ―snakes, of course, being my preference― but I was little better off inside them than as pure spirit, for their bodies were ill-adapted to perform magic…and my possession of them shorted their lives; none of them lasted long…"
"Then…four years ago…the means for my return seemed assured. A wizard ―young, foolish and gullible― wandered across my path in the forest I'd made my home. Oh, he seemed the very chance I had dreamed of…for he was a teacher at Dumbledore's school…He was easy to bend to my will…he brought me back into this country, and after a while, I took possession of his body, to supervise him closely as he carried out my orders. But my plans failed; I did not manage to steal the Philosopher's stone. I was not to be assured immortal life. I was thwarted…thwarted, once again, by Harry Potter…"
Merlin he had forgotten just how much Voldemort had prattled on during his rebirth. He sincerely wished that there was a fast-forward spell that could just get him to the important parts that Tom had to see. Although he had to admit that it was better than having to talk about it all, having him seeing it was the easiest thing, he could see for himself how it had really gone down. At least after this the other memories were considerably shorter…even the so called Battle of Hogwarts.
Tom listened to his other self, beginning to realize why he looked so much like a snake, unicorn blood and snake venom mixed in with this ritual he had done it was little wonder he had gained such an appearance. A furrow appearing on his brow yet again, when his future self said he settled for his 'old body back' that wasn't his old body, he had not looked quite so bad the night he'd seen the attack on Harry's parents…surely his memory wasn't affected? He was brought out of his perplexed thoughts when he caught wind of his future selves plans to harm HIS Harry!
"You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could ever have been stronger than me," Voldemort said. "But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger."
Standing up straighter he turned to Wormtail. "Now untie him, Wormtail and give him back his wand."
"How in Merlin's name do you survive this?" Tom managed to get out, he was surrounded by wizards on all sides of him.
"Luck, sheer dumb luck, it's nothing I did, up until this point I only had four years of magical training, I knew only a handful of spells and none would have touched you let alone done any damage if they had." Hadrian said pensively.
The Death Eaters moved in, completing the circle around the two of them and obscuring the entire graveyard from view. Harry was limping slightly, Tom observed, some sort of wound on his leg, a bite perhaps?
"You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?" Voldemort softly asked, his red eyes glinting through the darkness.
Those red eyes glimmered in satisfaction, his lipless mouth stretched into a smile. "We bow to one another, Harry," he said, "Come now, the niceties must be observed… Dumbledore would like you to show manners; bow to death…Harry." Voldemort bowed slightly but his gaze never wavered from Harry's.
Hadrian grimaced and looked away, unable to stand the sight he knew would come, being forced to bow to Voldemort.
"And now we duel," said Voldemort, "Crucio!"
Anger unlike anything he'd ever felt surged through Tom as he watched the scene in front of him. Once again the thought of why Hadrian would want to be anywhere near him after this shooting through him stronger than ever. This is what he had become? He was nothing more than a monster! Twice he had put Hadrian under the Cruciatus curse, and true to his word, he had not screamed the way Avery had in the common room. There was no denying he was in agony, and self-loathing crawled up his spine. What had he become? He thought once more. He had wanted to become the greatest wizard in the magical world…not this.
Breathing hitching at the beautiful web of pure magic, he stepped back to observe the scene in front of him properly, "What is this?"
"We both have phoenix wand cores, both from Fawkes it so happens, brother wands they're called, it means we weren't able to fight each other, or this would be the constant result, its sort of like a reverse prior Incantatem," Hadrian explained, watching the awe on Tom's face with a sad smile, "I got offered the wand by Ollivander when I got back here, but it exploded in my hand, it was no longer right for me, my core wasn't light or pure like it was when I entered the magical world for the first time. It was almost as if that wand was created for me and no other and that the wand wouldn't accept any other master."
Tom watched as Harry broke the connection, despite the fact he had been placed under the Cruciatus curse twice, and been in a tournament, bitten by something before hand and done Merlin knows what else he ran, avoiding the cursing the others flung his way, it made Tom realize that Harry was a survivor, capable of enduring severe pain, Tom knew even he wouldn't have the willpower to do that after suffering the Cruciatus curse, everyone who he had seen under (or more accurately put under) it, had trouble walking the next day never mind running basically directly after being cursed. He was in awe of him, and deeply concerned where his endurance had come from.
"You risked your life for a dead body?!" Tom snapped the second they were evicted from the pensive, which showed Harry reappearing at Hogwarts with the dead body of Cedric Diggory clutched in his arms. "What the hell were you thinking?" he'd acted like a complete and utter Gryffindor that they both knew he wasn't.
Hadrian just gaped at Tom unable to articulate a response to the utterly random question - at least it was to him. After all he had seen, this was what was bothering Tom the most? Yes, this was definitely not going the way he had always imagined it would. Maybe it would be better if he just described a few things, because the way Tom was going - it would drive him crazy trying to predict his next move which was becoming increasingly clear to him that it was an impossible task…it was true, he was used to dealing with Voldemort, not Tom.
On a completely inconsequential note - Death was getting a great deal of amusement at the scenes playing out in his mind as he collected the souls of the dead. He and Hadrian were connected after all, and he saw everything, everywhere any time he wished to. This night was definitely not one he wanted to miss.
And Hadrian's jaw remained unhinged.