Voldemort Drabbles
Erased
Tom Riddle discovered the mirror of Erased before creating his first horcrux.
He looked into it, confident of what he would see. Already he had assumed the name of Voldemort.
But the mirror can show only our most hidden, fearsome longings. No matter how deeply our subconscious might have buried them. He was haunted by an insight, which would mark a turning point in the war.
Much later when he became Lord Voldemort he was to come across the thing again, with something like trepidation.
But he need not have felt troubled.
It showed him only what he wanted.
Rival
When Rodolfus Lestrange learnt of the Dark Lord's deformity he could barely hide his satisfaction.
Surely now, he told himself, he would regain his wife. Bellatrix was forceful, but lacking in constancy. she would not maintain her obsession, he was certain. Not when the beauty of its object had been stripped away.
He stood amongst the followers; waiting, anticipating. Like them when the time came he struggled not to recoil.
All but one.
Red eyes met his, mocking, as with a sinking heart he saw. In her eyes; obsession, adoration, love.
That night, Rodolfus Lestrange conceded he had lost.
Triumph
Regulus Black had felt a burning, savage pride, the night his master seared the Dark Mark into his arm. It had marked the greatest of honours.
in the weeks and months that followed he would cling to the memory, the determination to serve the master who would bring about the world he had thought he wanted.
In time, when observation and a master's madness taught him to question those views, the memory was set aside, replaced by a new determination.
Regulus would know that bliss again, as the dark waters closed above his head, having assured that Master's downfall.
Secret
Even years beyond Voldemort's defeat, Ginny would remember.
The days, smudged and murky, filled with actions not her own. The fear, twisting her guts as she woke from blackness with blood on her hands.
The determination that this must stop, that she would end it, even as the fascination drew her to his diary once more.
Allowing herself to be lost again in the smooth persuasions of its maker, resolutions set aside, forgotten.
Sometimes she would wake screaming, and then her husband would hold her, whispering reassurance while she would close her eyes, and hear another voice entirely.
Her secret....