Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plot (and I'm sure this plot-idea has already been explored at least once somewhere)
Rating: T for adult themes and swearing
Warnings: Spoilers for the whole Harry Potter series. Seriously, Voldemort is the main character, so all of his secret plans will be revealed, dear readers. If you haven't read Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows yet, (then why are you reading HP fanfic?) you're going to be spoiled.
Chapter 1: Killing Curse
Lord Voldemort stepped over Lily Potter's corpse.
The witch had refused to stand aside, even when he had offered – thrice – to let her live. Instead she had pleaded him to spare her child, despite knowing full well that he was here for him and him alone. He walked to the cradle where his target was crying loudly and sensed powerful protective magic swirl around the little creature.
He glanced at the witch's corpse. Had she had the time and presence of mind to cast a ward over her spawn? A furtive glint of respect flashed in his eyes for the dead woman.
His attention snapped back to the cradle and the infant lying in it. He ran a few checking spells but could not pinpoint exactly what that strange magic was.
He paused and considered his options.
He could leave, do some research and come back later and better prepared to destroy his tiny nemesis. Avoiding confrontation with a defenceless baby seemed absurd – cowardly – but only Gryffindors cared for foolish heroics. Slytherins were more about self-preservation and he was, after all, the ultimate Slytherin.
But if he left now, he strongly doubted that he would be able to find the child again. He owed the information to Pettigrew, who would be exposed soon, which forced him to act now.
Maybe he could kidnap the child? Raising Harry Potter to become his pawn and follower held a delicious irony, one he could not help but want to make happen. After all, he liked to surround himself with powerful wizards; and a wizard prophesied to vanquish him could only be powerful. Furthermore, if he later changed his mind about killing the child, he would have easy access to him.
While tempting, this option left too much room for Harry Potter to escape his control, be rescued by the Light side of his war or even end up growing more powerful than him and choose to replace him as the new Dark Lord. The possibility of betrayal was too annoying to allow, and he quickly shot that plan down.
No, his future enemy needed to die, tonight.
His decision taken, Voldemort pointed his wand at the wailing child. If someone had walked in this instant, they would have seen the glimmer of something akin to regret on the Dark Lord's expression, but all the other occupants of the house were dead and a mask of cruelty soon deformed Voldemort's almost human face.
"Avada kedavra."
There was no hesitation. The intent behind the spell was absolute as the green beam shot from his wand and struck the child.
And the blood wards sprang to life.
And the killing curse rebounded.
Pain sliced through him; an unbearable suffering that reduced the Cruciatus curse to a tickling charm.
His soul, made unstable by the multiple horcruxes he had created, was almost broken under the strain, but he placed all of his will into maintaining it whole. He could not afford to fragment his mind again; his sanity would not endure it. Focused on maintaining his soul intact, he could not stop it from being torn from his body.
The pain stopped immediately, washed away by a wave of cold numbness, and he felt his strength and his magic bleed away in the nether. For a fraction of eternity, he drifted, too shocked to even think about what to do. Then, his self-preservation kicked in and, by a monumental effort of will, he forced himself into the closest living receptacle around.
He felt the innocent, delicate mind of the other recoil at his contact, like a small creature touched by fiendfyre. Good. He was definitely not sharing his new body. He burned it again for good measure, and then smothered the tiny conscience within him, intent on destroying it completely. The frail mind burned; its cry a note of purity as it agonized. When the soundless cry stopped, the silence was bearing the death of innocence.
Stuck inside the body of the baby he had tried to kill, weakened beyond everything he could have believed possible, Voldemort contemplated his actions so far.
He should have gone with plan one.
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This is a weird plot that kind of... happened in my mind, at some point, and then I had to start writing, but I have no idea where it's going. So... yeah.
Enjoy