Voldemort continued his narrative after his failed attempt to get the Philosopher's Stone.
"And then, not even a year ago, when I had almost abandoned hope, it happened at last... a servant returned to me. Wormtail here, who had faked his own death to escape justice, was driven out of hiding by those he had once counted as friends and decided to return to his master. He sought me in the country where it had long been rumored I was hiding... helped, of course, by the rats he met along the way. Wormtail has a curious affinity with rats, do
you not, Wormtail? His filthy little friends told him there was a place, deep in an Albanian forest, that they avoided, where small animals like themselves had met their deaths by a dark shadow that possessed them...
But his journey back to me was not smooth, was it, Wormtail? For, hungry one night, on the edge of the very forest where he had hoped to find me, he foolishly stopped at an inn for some food... and who should he meet there, but one Bertha Jorkins, a witch from the Ministry of Magic.
Now see the way that fate favors Lord Voldemort. This might have been the end of Wormtail, and of my last hope for regeneration. But Wormtail, displaying a presence of mind I would never have expected from him, convinced Bertha Jorkins to accompany him on a nighttime stroll. He overpowered her... he brought her to me. And Bertha Jorkins, who might have ruined all, proved instead to be a gift beyond my wildest dreams, for with a little persuasion, she became a veritable mine of information.
She told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be played at Hogwarts this year. She told me many things... but the means I used to break the Memory Charm upon her were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from her, her mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. She had now served her purpose. I could not possess her. I disposed of her."
Voldemort smiled.
The others were mesmerised by the tales.
Some regret not taking action in search of their Lord. They were jealous of Wormtail. Surely, Voldemort was going to reward Wormtail greatly for his action.
"Wormtail's body, of course, was ill adapted for possession, as all assumed him dead, and would attract far too much attention if noticed. However, he was the able-bodied servant I needed, and, poor wizard though he is, Wormtail was able to follow the instructions I gave him, which would return me to a rudimentary, weak body of my own, a body I would be able to inhabit while awaiting the essential ingredients for true rebirth... a spell or two of my own invention... a little help from my dear Nagini."
The Death Eaters turned toward a specific spot as they heard the rustling of leaves on the ground. From the dark emerged a big snake that began to circulate among the Death Eaters.
"A potion concocted from unicorn blood and the snake venom that dear Nagini willingly provided. I was soon returned to an almost human form and strong enough to travel. There was no hope of stealing the Philosopher's Stone anymore, for I knew that Dumbledore would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortality. I set my sights lower... I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength.
I knew that to achieve this, I needed to use an old piece of Dark Magic, the potion that revived me. I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant...
My father's bones, naturally, meant that we would have to go to the graveyard, where he was buried. But the blood of a foe... Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormtail? Any wizard who had hated me... as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potter's blood.
I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago... for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too.
But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relatives' care. Not even I can touch him there... Then, of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup... I thought his protection might be weaker there, away from his relations and Dumbledore, but I was not yet strong enough to attempt a kidnapping in the midst of a horde of Ministry wizards. And then, the boy would return to Hogwarts, where he is under the nose of that Muggle-loving fool from morning until night. So, how could I take him?
Well, by using Bertha Jorkins's information, of course. Wormtail here, stationed at Hogwarts, to ensure that the boy's name was entered into the Goblet of Fire. Use Wormtail to ensure that the boy won the tournament, that he touched the Triwizard Cup first... the cup which he had turned into a Portkey, which would bring him to me, beyond the reach of Dumbledore's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And Wormtail was very successful in delivering him to me."
As Voldemort was talking, he continued to walk toward each and every one of the Death Eaters present. They listened silently to their Lord, many times feeling shivers crawling through their skin whenever Voldemort talked about their inactivity in trying to revive him. After that, when the Dark Lord concluded his detailed explanation of the steps he took until he was finally reborn, all the Death Eaters had a question lingering in their minds.
"What happened to Harry Potter?"