Chapter 838: Tom, Baby
Chapter 838: Tom, Baby
In his life, Peter Pettigrew probably never imagined that someone would be observing him through a crystal ball, and that the person staring at him was once his enemy who sent him straight to Azkaban prison.
Yes, Peter would never have imagined it, nor would he want to know. Otherwise, the timid Mr. Pettigrew would have lost all motivation to help Voldemort search for unicorns in the depths of the Albanian forest and would have instead abandoned his half-dead master to flee.
At this moment, in a certain dark forest in Albania, Peter was swiftly making his way through the trees, trying to locate a solitary unicorn.
However, Peter's grades in Care of Magical Creatures class back in the day were mediocre at best, and he had no idea how to track a unicorn in the forest. Fortunately for him, he was able to get a general idea of the unicorn's location through his shady little friends.
But merely finding the unicorn was not enough; obtaining its blood was a challenge. Unicorns were inherently powerful magical creatures with exceptional speed, and ordinary magic rarely harmed them. While their resistance to magic might not be as strong as that of a dragon, it was still a force to be reckoned with. Moreover, Peter was certain he couldn't match the unicorn's pace.
However, obtaining unicorn blood was the first task Voldemort had given him. Peter was well aware that he had to grit his teeth and accomplish it, unless he wanted to simply walk away. If he did that, there would be no place for him by Voldemort's side, and he would find himself on the Dark Lord's hit list.
Peter Pettigrew, the little traitor, gazed into the depths of the forest and scoffed, "Isn't this what I wanted?"
The current state of Voldemort was extremely weak, having lost most of his power and even the ability to use magic. He was barely surviving, like an insignificant insect.
This situation filled Peter with elation.
Only by offering his loyalty when the Dark Lord needed help the most could he possibly gain higher honors than the other Death Eaters.
Of course, Peter never expected to attain such glory, and he knew that Voldemort didn't fully trust him.
But so what? The Dark Lord wouldn't do anything to him. If he killed someone who was helping him at his most vulnerable, how could he expect to gain the loyalty of other Death Eaters? Who would dare to continue following and pledging their allegiance to him?
As long as he helped Voldemort regain his body, no Death Eater would dare to cause trouble for him, and the wizarding world in Britain would be plunged into chaos. The Minister of Magic would likely have a massive headache by then.
Found it! After spending a considerable amount of time searching, Peter finally spotted a solitary unicorn deep in the forest. It was drinking by the river, and from a distance, it looked incredibly beautiful. The unicorn seemed to sense the presence of an unwelcome guest, lifting its head and staring at Peter with alertness in its eyes.
Peter knew he only had one chance; once the unicorn started galloping, it would be out of his reach.
A sharp, piercing cry tore through the night sky.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A burst of bright green light illuminated the dark forest.
As the light faded and the forest returned to normal, Peter realized that his spell had missed its mark. The unicorn gracefully sidestepped the Killing Curse and darted away, vanishing from Peter's sight in the blink of an eye.
"Damn it!"
Just as Peter attempted to chase after it, he sensed movement to his right. The unicorn had emerged from the side and nearly impaled him on its horn. Fortunately, Peter managed to disapparate just in time to dodge the unicorn's attack.
"What a cunning beast," Peter muttered.
He had never found unicorns to be this troublesome. Expecting another surprise attack, he was taken aback when he realized the creature had fled, leaving him alone, still cautiously scanning his surroundings.
Peter had no choice but to search for a new target. Adult unicorns were incredibly tricky to deal with, and he even doubted if the Avada Kedavra curse could instantly kill such a powerful magical creature.
Peter regretted his recklessness and thought that perhaps things wouldn't have been so bad if he had found a younger unicorn.
Through his rat friends, Peter located other unicorns. This time, he didn't rush into action, suspecting that he might repeat his previous mistake. He spent several days searching and finally found a group of unicorns, but they seemed too formidable, so he ultimately gave up and wandered along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, seeking any stragglers.
Peter's luck wasn't too terrible, as he stumbled upon a solitary, young unicorn.
The unicorn's mournful cry echoed through the forest.
"It's still alive?"
As the green light dissipated, Peter watched the unicorn struggle to its hooves.
The Avada Kedavra curse hadn't instantly killed the unicorn, but it had inflicted severe damage.
Peter's magical prowess was only slightly above average among wizards, but the Killing Curse was generally sufficient to take down any creature. The fact that the unicorn was still standing, albeit injured, took Peter by surprise.
Peter cast a few more Avada Kedavra curses to ensure the unicorn was truly dead before he approached, breathless, to collect its blood.
As Peter poured the freshly drawn unicorn blood into a glass vial, he looked up and found himself surrounded by a herd of angry unicorns. Yet, Peter remained calm and, without a moment's hesitation, he disapparated just as the unicorns charged towards him.
The forest echoed with the enraged whinnies of the unicorns.
...
"Master, I have obtained the unicorn blood as you requested."
Peter hurried back to the forest where the Dark Lord resided. Holding up the vial of blood, he addressed the shadowy figure within, "Now, what should I do next?"
"I need you to brew a potion with the unicorn blood and Nagini's venom, so I can assume a more suitable form," Voldemort explained, outlining his next step.
At that moment, rustling sounds emanated from the darkness, and a twelve-foot-long giant snake slithered into view. Despite having seen it before, Peter still felt uneasy, but he knew what he had to do.
It didn't take long for Peter to prepare the potion recipe. While unicorn blood was notoriously difficult to obtain, it was no longer an issue.
Peter stood by the cauldron, his lips moving silently as he recited a spell allegedly invented by the Dark Lord himself. Then, he dropped Nagini, possessed by Voldemort, into the bubbling potion. Accompanied by a piercing shriek, a humanoid figure slowly rose from the cauldron, resembling an infant.
Under Peter's control, Bertha Jorkins immediately rushed forward with a towel, ready to catch the ugly infant, if one could even call it that.
"How do you feel now, Master?" Peter asked cautiously.
"This body is still weak, but at least I've regained some of my magic," Voldemort's voice was filled with barely contained excitement, as the situation was taking a favorable turn.
"What can I do to assist you further, Master?" Peter inquired respectfully.
"I know of an ancient Dark spell that can create a revival potion to restore my original body and reclaim the power that is rightfully mine," the Dark Lord rasped. "Once I regain my full strength, you shall be rewarded handsomely."
"Thank you for your generosity, Master. What ingredients do you require, and I shall set out to gather them immediately."
"I need three potent potion ingredients," Voldemort croaked. "Bone of the father, flesh of the servant..."
As he spoke, he turned to look at Peter, who was trembling like a leaf. "Don't worry, I won't need much, and it won't kill you. Moreover, I'll need you to help me control the revival potion."
Peter breathed a sigh of relief and asked softly, "What's the last ingredient?"
"The blood of the enemy," Voldemort replied.
Peter thought this shouldn't be too difficult, as there were still many who hated Voldemort. Capturing a wizard and extracting their blood upon returning to Britain shouldn't be too challenging.
"I know where my father is buried, so obtaining his bone won't be an issue. However... I want the blood of Harry Potter. I want the blood of the one who caused me to lose my power thirteen years ago."
"Forgive me, Master, but targeting Harry Potter is exceedingly difficult. He is currently under tight protection, and I'm afraid I may not succeed," Peter said, his voice shaking. "If we chose another wizard, we could act swiftly and help you reclaim your strength without delay."
"It must be Harry Potter's blood," Voldemort insisted, his voice weak but resolute. "By then, the protection his mother left on him will exist in my blood as well, and that woman's power will no longer shield Harry Potter."
"With my power alone, it may be difficult to achieve this. If you permit, perhaps I should gather the other Death Eaters who weren't captured and sent to Azkaban," Peter suggested softly. "Perhaps, with their combined strength, we can accomplish this task."
"I shall summon them, but not yet," Voldemort replied.
Having lost his power, Voldemort no longer trusted anyone, and he certainly wouldn't reveal his weakened state to those with divided loyalties.
He preferred to wait until after his resurrection, when he could proclaim his might and make those fickle individuals bow before him, letting the traitors live in constant fear until they met their quiet end in some dark corner.
"Now, let's have Bertha Jorkins come closer. I recall you mentioning that this woman works for the Ministry of Magic, and she might provide us with some useful intelligence," Voldemort said as he struggled to pick up Peter's wand and pointed it at Bertha Jorkins, casting Legilimens.
Bertha Jorkins' face contorted in pain as Voldemort forcibly rifled through her memories.
"Oh, how intriguing. Someone has cast a strong Obliviate spell on Bertha Jorkins," Voldemort mused, sounding pleased. "Nonetheless, it seems to have failed against a powerful wizard."
"Master?" Peter asked, his anxiety evident.
"For now, we shall not rush back to Britain. The Quidditch World Cup is taking place there, attracting wizards from all over the world. The busybodies at the Ministry of Magic will be everywhere, keeping watch for any unusual activities. We must bide our time," Voldemort explained patiently.
(End of Chapter)
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