Voldemort enjoyed his loyal subordinate's tearful gratitude for a while, but ultimately did not forget the business at hand.
He turned his head to glance at the tightly bound Harry, then turned his serpentine eyes back to Ter Yaxley.
"Stand up and hold out your hand."
"Yes..." Ter Yaxley began to tremble and held out his intact right hand.
Voldemort gently pulled up his sleeve, exposing the thin, pale arm beneath, then raised his wand and pressed it against the unmarked skin of Ter's right arm.
"Urgh..." Pain crossed Ter's face. Even the pain of losing his hand seemed no match for the pain of Voldemort simply laying his wand against his arm.
But beneath that pained expression, his eyes held an uncontrollable fervor.
Moonlight happened to break through the clouds, briefly illuminating the ground below. Su Er clearly saw a design gradually emerge on Ter's previously bare arm.
It was just like the mark he had seen hanging above the branches at the Quidditch World Cup-a skull with a snake emerging from its mouth.
"It has appeared again." After engraving the design on Ter's arm, Voldemort put away his wand and gazed at it. "I do look forward to seeing how many will have the courage to return after feeling it."
Voldemort looked up at the cloudy night sky.
"And how many... will be foolish enough not to come?"
Ter Yaxley shuddered violently, keeping his head lowered and saying nothing.
After gazing at the sky for a minute, Voldemort finally turned his attention to Harry.
"Potter." A chilling smile curled at his mouth. "Do you see that house over there? That is my home. Oh, no, my father's home. He was a Muggle fool who disliked magic, loathed magic, just as he discarded my mother like a filthy rag