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Nothing Lasts Forever by Rebitt

Format: Short story
Chapters: 3
Word Count: 3,973
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse

Genres: Horror/Dark, Romance
Characters: Voldemort, OC
Pairings: Other Pairing

First Published: 05/22/2009
Last Chapter: 07/07/2009
Last Updated: 07/07/2009

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It's funny how one girl pushed him farther into the darkness than he'd ever imagined and yet that very same girl was his only downfall.
Many people thought Voldemort could feel no remorse, but those people have never heard this story.

Chapter 1: Prologue
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Okay, so this story is sort of experimental, meaning that I am not quite sure where it is headed, but I am going to try and keep going with it till the end. It would be most helpful if all you readers could post a couple reviews with some suggestions in them, at least in later chapters.

Thanks for reading!

Here goes:


Lord Voldemort stood directly across from Harry Potter. A smirk grew at his lips. Finally, he thought, the chosen one would be forever gone and he would have no opposition to his rule and laws. Finally, this long awaited day had arrived. It was the peak of the final battle and the two men stood aligned in the center of a circle of death eaters and order members alike. There wasn’t a pair of eyes in the great hall that wasn’t transfixed on him, The Dark Lord.

Wands raised, they stared at each other, circling like vultures. No one in the surrounding crowd dared make a sound. Complete and utter silence engulfed the two men only barely penetrated by their light footsteps on the cold stone floor.

Harry began to speak, tauntingly towards the dark wizard across from him.
"Try for some remorse, Riddle, come on, just try."

"How dare you speak that name!" Voldemort screamed, his eyes burned with a fire so fierce that with one glare he could have set the whole of Hogwarts on fire.

The Potter boy continued his remorse speech, thinking maybe, that if he could stall the Dark Lord from firing a spell, that he could catch him off guard, that maybe, his speech would indeed affect him. Voldemort was only half listening, seeing as it was quite tiresome to listen to pubescent teenage boys.

Harry just kept chattering away, until The Dark Lord decided to raise his voice again. He cut Harry off, mid sentence, rage boiling inside of him.

"I have NO remorse, NO regrets, nothing!!" The feared voice echoed around the silent hall, the sound bouncing off of the high ceiling and walls.

"That is right," Harry continued, "you have nothing and you are nothing, because you don't have love."

At this, The Great Tom Marvolo Riddle paused circling, memories flashed before his eyes. He felt as if someone was performing Legiligmency on him, but that was impossible, he was Lord Voldemort, and besides, the Potter boy hadn’t fired a spell.

Images blended into one another, colors splashed across his eyes. Colors from another time, another world.

There it was, the castle that he knew so well, the same one he was standing in this very moment. He saw the lake as it changed into the deepest corners of the forbidden forest.

He had no control over what was happening to him. He felt weak. Maybe it was the two words Remorse and Love used in close proximity that had brought this upon him. He watched faint glimpses of a girl spin past his peripherals. He was falling, falling backwards, into his memories.

The images were clearer now, he could make out the pattern of her dress as she swam past. He could see her face now, her eyes, and he remembered how beautiful she really was.

He watched the memories pass him and he knew he was almost at the beginning of his time with her. Time spun faster and faster, January, December, November, and then with a sudden jolt, he felt his memories come to a stop.

Ah yes, he remembered this day clearly.

Alright, hope you like the story so far!
It might be a little bit confusing though. Basically, here's what happened. Harry used the words Remorse and Love in the same sentence which caused Lord Voldemort to sort of spin backwards into his head and revisit his only Remorse and Love.

xoxo, Rebitt

Chapter 2: Chapter One
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Chapter One

It was October. Tom Marvolo Riddle sat in the great hall, slowly chewing a piece of buttered toast. He was surrounded by all of his followers, his death eaters, all of them talking quietly to each other, as if they were higher than everyone else in the hall, but Tom paid no attention to them, as they were merely pebbles and twigs on his path to greatness. Instead, Tom was staring at a young woman who sat at the table adjacent to the Slytherin table.

She was a Ravenclaw. A beautiful one too. Tom hadn’t actually noticed her until last year, their sixth year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and even then, he hadn’t noticed her for her beauty.

He had despised her. Tom, who was used to being the best in all of his classes, became enraged when he found out that a girl from Ravenclaw had surpassed him in both transfiguration and charms. How was Tom supposed to be the greatest wizard of all time if he wasn’t the best in all of his classes? He had been so far ahead of all his classmates, that the fact that someone might have almost been equal to him had scared Tom.

He looked again at the girl. Her name was Rebecca Evian. Her dark brown hair, almost black, hung in long waves that cascaded down her back. Her skin was pale, but not white, and it heavily contrasted with her red lipstick covered lips. She radiated beauty. Everything from her petite feet up to her curved eyebrows was gorgeous.

Unfortunately for Tom, he wasn’t the only guy in Hogwarts who lusted after her. He had noticed that she was probably asked out twice a day, and although she normally turned them down, there had been a few lucky blokes who had gotten to date her for a month or two, before she broke up with them.

It was weird, now that Tom thought about it. Her relationships were hardly ever gossiped about in hallways or in the Slytherin common room. It seemed that she was too regal, or celestial, to talk about in a criticizing manner.

She sat facing away from him and as she ran a hand through her hair mindlessly, slightly messing her hair up, Tom shivered. There must have been a draft in the great hall that morning since no one could make the Great Lord Voldemort shiver. No one.

As Tom stared at Rebecca, he wracked his brain for all he could remember about her. He knew she was the smartest witch of her age, he knew she wore a golden charm around her neck, that she played guitar and regularly smoked cigarettes. He knew that her family was relatively pureblood although they didn’t make a scene about it like the Malfoys or the Blacks. It had been rumored that she was a descendent of one of the four Hogwarts founders, Rowena Ravenclaw. Although he didn’t know if the rumor was true or not, it certainly sparked his interest in her more than ever.

It almost seemed like fate, although Tom did not believe in fate, he believed in creating your own future, as he strived to do. But it was very interesting. He had recently learned of his family history, how he was the last living descendent of Salazar Slytherin. A descendent of Slytherin and a descendent of Ravenclaw together, yes it was interesting. It did seem like fate a little.

What else did Tom know about her? He knew she had an older sister, Lucille, who had graduated two years ago. He knew she was very cultured in the arts, music and film. He had once overheard a conversation between Rebecca and her parents at platform 9 ¾ where he had also learned that she lived in London, just as he did, well, when he stayed in London he could barely call it living. The days in the orphanage were dreary and monotonous in the heat of the summer and he would spend his days lying on his bed planning. Planning everything.

Tom continued gazing at Rebecca Evian…

“Tom? Tom? My Lord?” Tom was awakened from his reverie by none other than Abraxus Malfoy, one of his many followers.

“What?” Tom snapped, turning his head sharply towards the young man who cowered away at Tom’s irritated stare.

“We,” Malfoy motioned towards a few other seventh year Slytherins, “ We were wondering if there would be a meeting tonight, since it is Tuesday,” he trailed off.

“Not tonight Malfoy, I’m busy, and let me remind you never to speak to me unless spoken to, otherwise, there will be consequences.” Malfoy flinched at his harsh words, bowed his head slightly and turned away.

Tom had lied, he wasn’t busy that night at all, besides homework that is, but that never took too long. He just needed more time to think things through. And although he would have liked to deny it, he knew he would end up thinking about her.


Tom lay in his dormitory, the head boy’s dormitory. The green satin sheets were hardly disturbed by his lengthy body, lounging, his head rested on his pillow.

He was thinking about her. It was inevitable.

He needed a plan, he decided, a plan to make Rebecca Evian his.


Hogwarts corridors were normally quiet at night. No one ever drifted out of their common rooms for a midnight snack or quick walk through the gardens and fields anymore. Many of the students had grown accustomed to staying in their beds at night, remembering only two years ago, when if someone had traveled throughout the castle at night they would have been attacked by the creature from the Chamber of Secrets.

Rebecca Evian, although a Ravenclaw and filled with common sense, was wandering. Throughout the castle that is. She couldn’t sleep. It had become a pattern recently, lying in her bed for two or three hours before getting up and quietly disappearing out the tapestry leading to the Ravenclaw common room. She never returned to her bed until around two in the morning, where she would quickly fall into a dreamless slumber.

So now, she was wandering and thinking and feeling a little depressed.

Even the most untouchable and popular girls had worries and fears.

Another boy had asked her out today, and without a thought she had turned him down. It was sickening really, how easy the boys at Hogwarts thought she was. There wasn’t a day where people wouldn’t wolf whistle as she walked down the halls.

She honestly didn’t know why it was her. There were plenty of pretty girls at Hogwarts. Rebecca didn’t know how people had deemed her as easy either. She kept her personal affairs, well, personal and private. There were barely ever any rumors about her.

Although she had put up with the cat-calls for years now, it was silently staring to take a toll on her. Whatever self-respect she had had when entering Hogwarts was now hidden away if not completely gone.

It was her last year at her school. And yes, it was her school, she had been deemed the queen bee by all her ‘friends’ and enemies even. She knew she could probably tell each and every student at Hogwarts to dive into the lake and tickle the giant squid and they would have done it. Instantly. All of them, that is, except for the mysterious Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle, she knew, was probably the only other person in the school with as large a social standing as she. He was a lot like her actually. They both were rather quiet and hadn’t come to the school yearning for popularity. She knew that he had no real friends, quite like her. And that gave her a little respect for him, for she knew how irritating life at Hogwarts could get.

All of her friends were either constantly trying to bring her down, find a flaw in her or become her. It was all very tiresome.

Rebecca sometimes wished she could pass by unnoticed and invisible, like the wind. Everything, she thought, would be so much easier if she could be alone. But she was never alone, never. There was always someone there with her, ogling at her, or whispering behind her, her followers didn’t takes breaks.

That’s partially why she had taken to wandering the castle at night, sometimes leaving the castle altogether to venture down onto the grounds for a smoke by the lake.

She had forgotten her pack of cigarette back in her dorm so that would not be happening tonight, the smoking that is.

She continued to wander the ancient corridors.

Rebecca didn’t care if she got caught. Nothing really mattered to her anymore.

She’d be leaving soon anyways.

Chapter 3: Chapter two
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Chapter Two

Rebecca awoke early the next morning at quarter to seven.

Lifting her feet from under her covers she gracefully placed them on the cold stone floors. A shiver ran up her body from the tips of her feet. She sighed silently. Another day of schooling awaited her.

Nimbly, she maneuvered the massive piles of shoes and skirts and blouses that littered the dormitory’s floor, making her way to the bathroom.

After a steaming shower, Rebecca wrapped a dark blue towel around her and sat down on the bathroom counter, gently applying her signature red lipstick. She never went anywhere without it gracing her lips.

She quickly cast a drying spell on her hair witched then became instantly wavy, curling slightly at the ends.

Dressed in uniform and schoolbag hanging carelessly off her left shoulder, Rebecca made her way down the spiraling staircase to the Ravenclaw common room, past the sculpture of Rowena Ravenclaw, and out the tapestry.

She made her way down to the great hall. When she arrived, she let out a sigh of relief. It was almost empty. Well, it was to be expected seeing as it was only five after seven and classes didn’t start until nine.

She looked around as she made her way to the long Ravenclaw table. There were maybe two other Ravenclaws, both fourth years who were sitting at the far end. Both of them looked up and stared as she sat down at the other end.

There were no Gryffindors, save four first years, and only one lone Hufflepuff. She then peered over at the Slytherin table.

There were a couple of younger kids in the center, and maybe a few sixth years who she discarded as they quickly began muttering to themselves. She knew it was about her from the continuous glances thrown her way. Her eyesight moved down the table to a very handsome seventh year, just the one, in fact, that she had been thinking about the night before.

He was staring at her too. Not like the other people in the hall, not with jealousy or gossip, but just staring.

After about ten seconds, she quickly averted her eyes down to her half eaten piece of toast. She hurriedly finished it, all the while stealing glances up at the enigma by the name of Tom Riddle. He just kept staring at her.

When done with her toast, she gracefully pulled her legs over the bench and left the hall, making her way to the grounds. She needed some fresh air and some room to think.


Tom had awoken at his usual hour, so he would have time to visit the library. He did not plan on seeing Rebecca in the great hall.

He had been sitting there, in silence, book in hand, quietly minding his own business. That was, until he felt her presence in the room. He looked up, and sure enough, there she was.

He couldn’t avert his gaze. The swinging of her hips as she walked had captured him. Her small wrists and delicate hands. Her flowing hair. There was nothing he could do but stare. He wanted to run his hands up and down her sleek figure, to hold her in his arms and kiss her blood red lips.

He surveyed her as she surveyed the rest of the hall. Why was she here so early? He thought. He had never seen her at break fast. In fact, he had never seen her alone.

But then, as quickly as she had come, she left, and as soon as she had passed through the large wooden doors that led to the great hall, Tom felt his feet and legs begin to act on their own accord. He slowly got up, grabbed his book bag and followed her.

When he reached the entrance to the school, he saw her walking briskly across the large and expansive lawn. He silently strutted after her, keeping a safe distance behind all the while. He watched her as she made her way partially around the lake to a covered and secluded area where, if he hadn’t been watching her walk to, he was sure he wouldn’t have noticed.

He saw her sit down on a rock and take out a pack of cigarettes and begin to rummage through her bag. Tom quickly noted that she was looking for a lighter, and decided that this would be as good a time as any for conversation.

He jogged down to her, but slowed down at the end, to keep his composure of course. Slowly, he made his way up to her, keeping sure not to make a sound.

He stood behind her for a moment, before saying slyly, “Little early in the morning for a smoke, huh?”

Rebecca looked up at him, gave a small gasp, and quickly threw her cigarette into the vast lake, where it floated serenely on the top.

“Now, why would you throw it out?” He questioned, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“Well, you are head boy aren’t you?” She stared at Tom, taking in his exquisite figure. “And it is against school policy, to be smoking, I mean,” she continued.

“Everyone bends the rules sometimes,” Tom threw her a dazzling smile. The kind of smile that if he ever showed to other girls they would immediately start drooling, but it didn’t seem to affect Rebecca. “Mind if I join you then?” Rebecca simply shrugged and scooted over on the rock a bit, to make room.

Tom sat down, and she offered him a cigarette, he took it and placed it between his lips. Rebecca noticed this. She had been watching his every move, and when her attention was brought up to his lips, she felt a shudder run down her spine. She quickly discarded it as she looked at him gravely and asked, “Why are you really here Tom?”

Tom, took his time in answering her question. Before doing so, he raised his wand up to the cigarette, gently lighting it. He then inhaled the fumes, relaxed his shoulders and let the mixture of the smoke and his breath out.

Finally, he replied to her query, “You intrigue me.”

This statement caught Rebecca off-guard. She had originally thought that Tom had come to scold her for something or other so it took a few second for his sentence to sink into her skin.

“How so?” She didn’t know to feel flattered or uneasy. She knew that Tom Riddle didn’t usually flatter anyone so if it was flattery, it must have meant something.

“Well,” said Tom, but just at that moment, a piercingly cold gust of wind rolled by, billowing Rebecca’s hair our from under her scarf. Tom looked at her, and it seemed as if time had slowed down. Her hair flowed gracefully in the air, striking dark lines across a dismal and gray sky. He could hear the leaves shiver from behind them, and as the wave of turbulence died down, Tom gently moved his hand to brush one of her long strands of hair behind her ear.

Rebecca blushed at this gesture. She still wasn’t sure why Tom was here though, or why he had been staring at her. It was all a little unnerving.

“You were saying?” Rebecca prompted.

“Oh,” Tom peered into her eyes, “I actually had a question for you, if you would answer, that is.” Tom Riddle was very polite, Rebecca noted. But again, she couldn’t tell if it warmed her to him or if it was a fake politeness, only used when he wanted something.

Either way, she didn’t really feel like she could deny him anything that he might ask.

“There is a rumor going around school,” Tom continued, “and people have been saying that you are a descendent of the great Rowena Ravenclaw.” He stopped, looking at her to see her reaction, if he should continue, or if it was a weary subject. Rebecca merely blinked. “Is it true then?” Rebecca could hear the wanting sound of his voice. He was hungry for information, and part of her wanted to be like a cat and mouse, playing with it’s prey before giving in and killing it. Obviously she would not kill Tom, but she did have a distinct urge to taunt him a little before.

“And why would I tell you, Riddle?” Her eyes narrowed as Tom could see a small grin threatening to break her pristine face. Tom wasn’t sure if break was the right word. A smile would definitely not break her face, probably only enhance her beauty, and for one small moment, Tom wanted nothing in the world except to make her smile.

“Because,” said Tom, “I might tell you something as well.” He wasn’t sure why he had said that. He had never told any one of his followers that he was the heir to Salazar Slytherin, but something compelled him to tell this stunning young brunette. That was, only if she too was an heir to one of Hogwarts’ founders of course.

“Oh.” Rebecca looked down into her lap where a forgotten cigarette lay intertwined in her fingers. Was she interested in whatever he might tell her? She couldn’t answer this question. Although Tom Riddle was an enigma, a part of her felt as if she didn’t really want to know too much about him. Of course, that was only a part of her, and that part was quite smaller than the raging curiosity that was not only brewing in her mind, but in her heart as well.

“You first,” Rebecca said bluntly.

“Ah, but I asked you first, *ma cher.” Tom took another drag from his cigarette, and stared at her lightly. Rebecca knew what ma cher meant, speaking French fluently, and decided she liked the sound of him calling her that. It sounded elegant, graceful and romantic when he said it, as opposed to how corny it sounded in the **muggle moving pictures.

Rebecca looked up at Tom, directly in his eyes, and suddenly felt this swooping feeling in the bottom of her stomach. She gulped. His eyes, were completely dark, she could barely tell that there was a pupil at all, seeing as the iris blended into black. They were captivating. They were striking. She almost felt as he she was being sucked into them, into Tom. It took all her strength to bring her back to the present moment, and lightly nod her head, whispering a faint “Yes,” that gently floated off in the bitter Autumn wind.

Hi, hope you like the new chapter. Remember: Reviews!
Also; footnotes:
*ma cher -- dear in French.
**Muggle moving pictures – seeing as it is the 1940’s in this story, moving pictures is what they called movies back then, since, that is what they were.

Alright, thanks for reading!
xoxo, Rebitt