It was a weakened Voldemort who appeared in front of a set of iron gates that guarded the path up to a large mansion. As he stumbled, drops of his own blood pelted the ground around him. Voldemort looked down at his newly created body where he noticed the large diagonal laceration that striped his chest and was discharging blood at an alarming rate.
"This will not do," The Dark Lord thought as he watched more blood drip upon the path. He knew his regenerated body could not afford to lose so much blood so soon. He brought his wand up and moved it slowly along the gash. As it trailed over the opening, the skin started to close until only a thick red line of scar tissue remained.
"Better," He thought. "But the scar cannot remain. I must not appear weak in front of my Death Eaters. Now for a robe," He looked around until he found a branch lying under a tree. He quickly transfigured it into a passable robe and hood. Clothed and mostly healed, the Dark Lord turned his attention to the gates and the powerful wards he felt surrounding the property. He put his hands upon the plate affixed to the bars that bore the crest of the Malfoy family. As he did, he felt the magic give way and allow him passage.
"Well Lucius, at least you didn't remove me from your wards," Voldemort thought as the gates opened in front of him. Once he was through the wards he apparated onto the front steps of the mansion. He felt more wards around the door but this time when he placed his hands upon the wooden entrance he could not feel a sense of acceptance from it. He quickly overwhelmed the defenses with his own magic and opened the door.
It was an uneasy Lucius Malfoy who sat in his study trying to concentrate on the parchment that lay in front of him. As he read through the missive that had been sent in reply to his own concerning ways to undermine Veela's rights in the country, his attention was drawn once again to the red mark on his left arm; now as dark as the days his master had been alive. In the last few minutes it had started to itch; an itch no scratching would make go away. Just as he rose from his seat to pour himself a drink, he felt the outer wards allow a visitor. Malfoy glanced at the large grandfather clock with its pendulum swinging in its never ending arc.
"So Fudge decided to drop by after all," He muttered to himself as he sat a second glass next to the first and filled it as well. The minster had mentioned he might drop by to discuss the latest political events surrounding Bagman's dismissal and the announcement of his replacement and of course the possibility of further donations to Fudge's reelection funds.
"WHAT!" Lucius exclaimed to the empty room when he felt the wards around his front door disintegrate. He immediately pulled his wand from the walking stick next to his desk and hurried toward the entryway. As he neared the hallway, he could only see a shabbily robed and hooded individual was standing there. He knew whoever it was, they were uninvited and he had only one response. He made the proper motion and a quiet stunning spell was sent toward the individual. Malfoy was surprised when one of Narcissa's priceless vases rose in the air and disintegrated as it intercepted the spell.
"Lucius…Lucius, is this is how you greet your Master?" A high-pitched voice came from under the hood. Long white slender fingers rose to lower the cloth that surrounding the face of the intruder.
"M…my Lord," Lucius responded when he saw who it was. He quickly knelt and bowed his head as he asked the question. "Bu…but how? I mean I knew you would, it has been..."
"Enough!" Voldemort replied forcefully and then turned to the ashen-faced blonde witch who had just arrived to see what the noise of the vase smashing had been. "Ah, Narcissa bring me some essence of Dittany immediately and a blood replenishing potion as well."
Though Narcissa Malfoy was shocked to her core to see the Dark Lord alive and in her home, years of obeying her own husband kept the shock off her face and she replied instantly. "Yes my Lord," She wasted no time as she as she disappeared out of the hall.
Turning back to Lucius he said. "Rise Lucius. I have need of you. Have your elf bring me your finest robes."
"I no longer have an elf my lord, but I'll attend to it myself."
A quick passive Legilimency scan told Voldemort what had happened two years prior. Anger poured through the Dark Lord's body as he realized Lucius had sacrificed one of his Horcruxes just to be able to take advantage of a few muggles. He just managed to control the anger and not exact the punishment at that time. Voldemort knew he could do that another time after he had marshaled his forces.
As Voldemort watched his death eater walk quickly away he started prioritizing his own needs. He knew there were many things he needed to do to reacquire the power he once had. Many thoughts ran through his mind on what those were but the main one was persistent.
"I have to know the complete prophecy before I do anything," He thought. "Potter has now survived the killing curse twice. I can't afford to make another mistake."
Narcissa was the first back with a vial of a reddish brown liquid and a brown bottle. Not trusting anyone, Voldemort cast a potion detection spell and was soon satisfied the vial was in fact a blood replenishing potion. He unstoppered it and quickly consumed the contents. He could feel the rush of strength as the potion did its work. Opening his robes to reveal the scar upon his chest he looked at Narcissa and commanded. "Attend me."
With only the smallest of hesitations at the sight of the Dark Lord's body, Narcissa opened the brown bottle and dabbed several drops of the liquid onto a cloth. Controlling her desire to retch at the sight of near white skin in front of her, she ran the cloth over the red wound. By the time she was finished Lucius was back with his best robes and with a bow handed them to his master.
"Give me your arm," Voldemort commanded Lucius once he was properly attired and healed.
"M'Lord," Lucius replied knowing what his master needed. He offered his left arm while pulling back on the sleeve of his robe.
Voldemort grasped the arm firmly and then placed one of his long white fingers onto the red tattoo that stood out on the forearm. As Lucius fought to not show the pain he was enduring, the Dark Lord reveled in the power he held over the man and at the thought of his servants returning to his side.
"Now we shall see who is brave enough to return when they feel my mark once again, and how many will be foolish enough to stay away," He turned to Lucius. "Lower your wards for now. I want my faithful to come directly to me. I will replace then shortly with wards of my own creation."
Lucius hesitated only a split second before he obeyed.
Voldemort moved to the den off of the entry way and sat upon the large high-backed chair that Lucius had for himself. It had a throne like quality. Minutes passed until finally dark cloaked figures started appearing and looking around to where they were. At first no one noticed the man in the chair but several saw Lucius Malfoy. Walden McNair whipped off his silver mask and turned angrily toward Malfoy.
"How did you make the mark burn Malfoy?" McNair snarled menacingly as he raised is wand. "Answer me or I'll kill you where you stand."
"He didn't," A high-pitched voice said as Voldemort rose from his chair. "I did."
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