"Eek~"
For some reason, Peter Pettigrew suddenly shuddered.
He drew his neck in, puzzled, with the uneasy feeling that something bad was happening to him.
"Never mind."
Seeing that no one was around, Fat Rat pushed aside his baseless suspicions, shook his head, and hurried into the dilapidated house before him. He opened the door, revealing a place far larger inside than it appeared. Following the passage downward, he soon reached a spacious underground chamber.
There, Voldemort sat with his eyes closed, a black robe covering half his body.
"Master."
At the sight of Voldemort, a nauseating, obsequious smile naturally spread across Peter Pettigrew's greasy, fat face.
He crept up to Voldemort and dropped to his knees without hesitation, reporting in a hushed voice,
"I've got the results of what you asked me to do."
"Oh?"
Voldemort opened his eyes. A glint flashed in his serpentine pupils.
"So, how many old friends are willing to meet with me?"
A few days ago, the great riot at Azkaban Prison had shown Voldemort a chance to rise again.
After all, the prison held more of his former followers than anyone else: the Death Eaters who had once served him.
Now that he was back, his followers had escaped as well.
The Great Dark Lord could not let such a rare opportunity slip by!
"So far, only Antonin Dolohov, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Mulciber. I'm still working hard to contact the others."
His voice grew quieter as he spoke.
To be honest, Peter was afraid Voldemort would lose his temper.
He had once had countless supporters, yet now only three were willing to return to the Dark Lord's side. Anyone would have been furious.
But Voldemort was perfectly calm.
His expression didn't shift in the slightest.
All he had been through had long since