Voldemort was a man of action.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have possessed Quirrell, nor would he have dared to search the Ministry of Magic's contraband warehouse for his Magic Ring after regaining even a little power.
After setting the Death Eaters' next course of action, all four of them—the master and his servants—immediately got to work.
Of course, they didn't dare go anywhere like London. The city was now under the tightest security it had ever seen.
Even Voldemort, who had recovered half his strength, got a headache at the sight of all those Aurors and peacekeepers. Peter Wormtail and the others stood even less chance.
If they couldn't go to the big cities, they could only target small places.
Fortunately, they were all used to hardship. A little travel and discomfort was nothing.
They Apparated from place to place, constantly on the move.
With the help of the Dark Mark, Voldemort and his followers had "reaped a bountiful harvest." They really did find quite a few Death Eaters in hiding before the Aurors and peacekeepers of the United Team could reach them.
The Death Eaters who had been living in fear and hiding everywhere took one look.
Huh?
The Dark Lord had actually returned!
Well, there was no choice. They'd just have to obediently hand over their lives.
Without another word, they bowed low and worshipped him, calling him Master over and over.
The one-meter-four Dark Lord's expression didn't change, but inside, he was over the moon.
Great things were afoot~
Three days later, at the Ministry of Magic.
"Clop, clop, clop."
Cornelius Fudge was bent over his desk, writing something, when he suddenly heard the sound of wood tapping against the floor.
He looked up at the office door. Three or five seconds later, a fierce-looking old cripple pushed