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A/N November 21,2005 – This was written Pre-HPB, so it may be off a little factually based on what was learned in that book. I edited this a bit for grammar; if you catch any more mistakes please let me know.


He screams.

My nonexistent heart is breaking.

No one knows what goes on inside the Dark Lord’s head. No one has yet managed to pierce behind and see the true motivation within me. My servants believe that the reason I am like this is because I cannot love, and was unloved. They believe that all I want is power.

At least part of that is true.

But the love…it’s a lie. It’s all a lie and I am the webweaver, spinning half truths and false facts until they are so tangled that they don’t realize they are hanging above the pit of doom, waiting to be dropped in at my command. I drove these people to believe that I am a heartless, cruel bastard. I made them believe that is all I’ve ever been, and all I ever will be.

It’s not true, and it is, all at the same time.

It started when I was young. I am a halfblood; not pure, although those I lead are. They must be. I seek to purify the race of wizardry to prevent what happened to me when I was a child. To prevent the future ostracizing of young mages, such as what happened to myself. To prevent their abandonment and disillusionment with the world. Because it killed my mother. My father’s disappearance after he found out broke her heart. It hardened mine.

I am disillusioned with the world.

None of this seems real to me. How I, a boy without a father, and eventually without a mother, could rise to be the most powerful wizard…but I’m not the most powerful. I have to keep reminding myself of that fact. As I’m torturing those unwilling to succumb to my plans, there is one face that comes to mind…one person that could stand up to me and end what I have done.

Dumbledore…the one person I cannot overcome. I’ll never let my followers know how he frightens me. I know that he knows me. Knows me better than I know myself. When he looked into my eyes as a child, he saw what I could become…and he let me make the choice to become it.

Its his fault.

If he had sought to prevent this, he could have. I hate to admit it, but he could be more powerful than me. The man could rule the world if he aspired to. But no…he sits passively by and lets the wheel of fate roll, lets promising children like me rise or fall based on a few choices…I hate him.

I HATE him.

I hate him for what he made me be. For I have no heart. Not anymore. No room for love.

He watched me go to that muggle orphanage every summer. He saw me struggle to just get through the conditions there. He knew that I could have been placed in Hogwart’s care, if the headmaster hadn’t been so preoccupied with other things. He could have helped me. He could have fought for me.

He could have saved me.

But he chose not to. Power is a fickle thing. You must grasp it before it slips away and becomes something unattainable. Dumbledore doesn’t grasp at the power. He takes what falls in his lap. His reach could extend to all the corners of the earth, but he sits and waits. Ever patient, always biding his time.

Waiting for the moment.

The moment is now, Dumbledore. Your favored students are falling, one by one. Tonight, two of your favorites will lose something precious to them. Will you be there to save the day? To right the wrongs of the world? To finally stand up and do something about evil?

They do love their lives, and their son. I’ll give the Potter’s that. Such devotion to their little family…their little boy. Of course, Dumbledore helped to shield them from me. Helped to make Peter their secret keeper.

The fool.

For such a powerful wizard, he should have seen what Peter was. All of that trouble to protect Lily and James and their little Harry, and their secret keeper was already in my employ. Already feeding me valuable information to help bring the two down.

But that’s what love does. Blinds you. Disables you. You can’t see properly, sense things clearly…love of life, family, lovers, friends…it only brings you down in the end.

Love is such an overrated thing, anyway. I grew up without love, and it made me powerful. Power…power is something tangible. People quake before me, prostrate themselves…give themselves to the dark forces if I command them. Nations fall before powerful forces. Submit themselves to the rule of others. People die because of supreme power.

But love…love makes you weak. I loved once. I loved my mother. And she died. The pain I felt at her death made me collapse in anguish. I still remember touching her cold hand, trying to find some comfort in it. As I felt her icy skin, I felt my own heart freeze over. I stood next to her casket, fighting the tears, feeling the director of the muggle orphange’s hand on my shoulder…I vowed to never love again. Love can debilitate the strongest man. There was no room for love in my life. And when he pulled me away from my mother, when he made me go to that place…I closed the door on love.

Death…death is what makes me fear Dumbledore. In my heart, I feel like he is truly the only threat to my safety and wellbeing. For I control my deatheaters, and they will sacrifice their lives to the aurors to protect me. But Dumbledore…I do not believe that they can hinder him. Dumbledore can find anything, if he decides he desires to.

My followers are the opposite of me. They cling to the train of my power, dragging themselves along in my wake. I am hard, heartless, and couldn’t care less for them…but they need me. This symbiotic relationship works well on my behalf…I loathe them. They have no morals, no principles, other than the ones that I give them.

But they do the work. They torture those I need tormented, and they dispose of those that are standing in my way.

I find some of my death eaters quite interesting. Take Lucius.

Lucius is as pureblooded as any wizard can be. His family tree can be traced back to the times of King Arthur. No muggles have married into his line. Its quite a feat.

But still, he is in my power. A Halfblood. Me. Commanding the likes of him.

He revels in it. He won’t admit it, but Lucius likes to be dominated. He needs the show of strength and power. He needs to feel safe. And that is what I give to those that follow me.

None of my followers are safe.

I respect those that are working against me. Its noble. But nobility in deed often leads to the downfall of the human body. As these brave people stand up to me and my minions, trying to obstruct our reign of terror and pain, I see them fall. Not right away. But the love that is in their hearts doesn’t allow for the cruelty necessary to bring me down.

Love is a terrible thing.

It crowds out hate, malice, and ultimately, the capacity to reign supreme. Love does not conquer all. Love is crushed by all.

I can’t look away as I watch, even though my head is telling me to turn away and ignore it. Some of my followers are averting their eyes…they will be punished.

Weak fools.

Each time I force myself to see the horror I inflict, it makes me stronger. It tempers me, like steel in the forge. And I will come out unbreakable.

I see myself as an impenetrable fortress. Strong, capable, with secrets inside that the world does not know. There is no army that can breach my walls.

And now, as I walk up these steps, into the Potters home, past their concealing spells and charms, I shiver in anticipation. For this is the one thing that can bring me down.

I found out, through a strategically placed source, that a boy born to people that had defied me would be my downfall. I searched the records for a family fitting this description. How perfect that it worked out to be the Potters.

For now I knew that Dumbledore could not touch me. And by eliminating their son, I would also wound him. He loved the Potters. He helped them as he had never helped me. And now, he would pay, as would they.

No one can stop me now.

The house is quiet. Eerily so. It’s the calm before the storm. Only I know that in a minute, all hell will break lose. The Potters will lose all they ever cherished. And I will finally have it all.

All I cherish is power. Immortality. And with the one being able to take that away eliminated, it will be within my grasp. I can feel it now, taste the fruits of my labor.

All of these years…culminating in this one moment.

Suddenly, I see them. The happy little family. Perfect. What every person dreams of for their life.

Not so perfect anymore.

Then James steps out in front of me.

All I want is the boy, James.

But he doesn’t grasp that he can escape with his life. No, he stands in the way, guarding Lily and Harry.


Killing is so easy after that first time. Once you cross the threshold, you never look back. I won’t lie. It wasn’t as hard for me that first time. I had so much malice stored up that it just took a bit of concentration, and he was dead. But now, its like second nature. As easy as Petrificus Totalus.

But just a bit more deadly.

And now, James is disposed of. Lily looks at me in fear. She sees me look towards the boy…they are all fools.

Why give your life for a child that has barely lived? But she steps in front of him. I can’t be bothered to wait. I’ve waited for months already.

And now Lily is gone.

Its just Harry and I, alone in this room. Oddly, his eyes do not show fear. Confusion, maybe. Understandable. Both of his parents are dead.

How does it feel, Harry?

I hope you’re feeling the pain I felt.

Another child with potential…so like myself…about to be destroyed. I could take him under my wing. Teach him. Guide him. Bring him into my flock.

He could succeed.

I could create an empire of terror, never before dreamed of…I could school him in the ways of the underworld. Of evil.

But what my follower heard was clear. He is the threat to my existance; to my carefully plotted plan. And I haven’t worked this hard, for this long, to be brought down by a boy.

Avada Kedavra

What’s happening? What…he’s still…it hurts…the pain is searing…and the green light is around me…my power…strength…gone…from this boy.

How could this have happened? How could I have overlooked this detail? I’ve never…would never…have never…but I did. And now I’m paying for it.

Harry is looking on, oblivious of what he’s done. He doesn’t realize that he’s just brought me down…but I will come back.

Nothing will keep me down.

Without love, I cannot be fully broken. I may have to retreat. I may have to bide my time. But I will return.

This boy…he will not live. My months of planning were not enough. But the years that it takes for me…the decades…I will come back. I will arise. And he will not stand for long after it happens.

For I am Lord Voldemort. I am what makes the strongest witch and wizard tremble in fear. I am what makes them lock their doors in the falling dusk. I am the phantom their children scream of in fear during the night.

I am strong, although right now it does not seem so. People will think that I’ve gone. That I’ve disappeared.

But I will be everywhere and nowhere at once. I will be that little voice inside your head, telling you to watch out. I will be your deepest, darkest fear.

I do not give up. I will reappear.

I am powerful.

I am.


Any and all comments are welcome! I appreciate all criticism and praise regarding my works. Thanks for reading.

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