Author's note: All the characters belong to wonderful imagination of JK Rowling. I could nevertake her credits...unfortunately...I'd be a millionaire by now if I did, living in some remote mansion in the beautiful countryside of Mexico hiding from all the lawsuits for the rest of my life.:P
About The Story/shortie: I don't think this story's long enough for a long introduction so I'll just leave you to your reading. Though I must mention that I would reeeeally appreciate if you would comment it. Constructive criticism is always healthy for our ego and positive criticism is good for our self-esteem. You decide.:-)
p.s. you might notice that the characters my not act the way they would in the books...I'm really sorry for that, hope you'll read it anyway.
Note:This is a repost, the story isn't changed only some mistakes are corrected.
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The night was truly beautiful. There were no clouds to be found in the expansive stretch of the deep blue and black sky – only thousands of bright stars, all twinkling back at the earth. In the centre, like a shepherd between his flock, was the moon. It was unusually big this night. A man sitting on a bench and looking at the night-sky found he couldn't tear his gaze away from it. It was no wonder that he didn't notice another person approaching until they already stood before him.
He tensed. "What are you doing here?"
The woman smiled sweetly and sat next to him on the bench. "I thought you might want some company. You shouldn't be alone on a night like this."
He sneered, looking away. "You thought wrong. I don't want company. Go back to sleep."
When she didn't move, he looked back at her with irritation.
"I'll call you if I change my mind though," he added sarcastically, gesturing for her to leave.
She looked at him with hurt in her eyes, clearly offended…or rather, her vanity was. He didn't feel sorry for her; he didn't feel anything but distaste for anyone who would be foolish enough to think they meant anything more to him than just a tool to achieve his goals.
"Why are you like this?" she asked in a whisper, looking directly in his eyes.
He was just about to snap at her when her gaze met his. He stopped; staring strangely at her eyes, as if hypnotised. Something seemed to swirl within her eyes, faintly glowing with a mystical light. A strange feeling overpowered him. It was as though his insides had turned 180 degrees and was now scattering around trying to compose itself again. The feeling was unknown to him and he hated it. He felt sick – it robbed him of reason and made him feel as though he was no longer in control of his own emotions. In short, it made him feel weak and helpless. Before he could respond in any way, she had moved closer and wrapped her arms around him. He tensed at her touch and tried to shrug her off but he couldn't move. He felt like a puppet on a string and she was controlling it.
"You shouldn't be alone all the time. Everyone needs a partner. Someone they would open up to." Her hand started brushing his back, every move sending electric shivers through his spine. He tried to gain composure but failed. At least when he tried to speak his voice didn't betrayed him like everything else.
"I like being alone," he whispered coldly, "and I definitely don't need or want a partner. I don't want to share my mind, feelings or knowledge with anyone else."
He paused, feeling her arms tightening around him. He knew that if he doesn't do something soon, he would be defeated by this annoying emotion he had always despised, and tried to avoid it as best as he could.
"Besides, Bella, you already have someone. Your husband is in jail, but that is no excuse to start attacking others, especially me of all the people, with your emotional outbursts."
She acted as if she hadn't heard his last remark and snuggled up even closer, if that was possible. He felt himself fall deeper into the black depth of her eyes, feeling confused and agitated as he lost himself to the mesmerizing swirling - it was as though he was falling through a tunnel.
He felt his voice faltering and butterflies fluttering inside his stomach. The invisible wall he always put between himself and others started falling apart. He didn't recognise himself any more. It was just too easy. It took him years to master his emotional side and now she needed only a couple of minutes to destroy his years-long work. As though they heard him, the stars started twinkling in an odd way, almost as if they were laughing… mocking him!
He wanted to stand up but somehow his body didn't obey. It was as though somebody else had taken control of his body and he was just observing everything from nearby. As if in slow motion, he saw Bellatrix leaning towards him, her lips inches from his. A short pang went through his heart as her lips touched his and he shivered as they kissed. There was something swelling up inside his chest like a big balloon and he felt sort of…mellow…
After a couple of seconds (which seemed like a couple of hours to him) they parted and Bella smiled sweetly at him. She smoothed his collar, when he felt a soft pain in his chest. He looked down and noticed a wand pointing directly at his heart.
"Bellatrix, what are you…Dumbledore!"
Bellatrix faded away into nothingness as he looked up, instead he found himself face to face with the smiling old wizard who stood at his side, radiating with a pure light. Frantically, he started searching for his wand, but couldn't find it in his robes.
"Looking for something, Tom?" Dumbledore waved Voldemort's wand whilst his own still pointed at the Dark Lord's chest.
Tom looked stunned. "Dumbledore! ...But you were killed...!"
The great wizard shook his head sadly. "There are many things you never could understand, even though you were one of the brightest students Hogwarts ever had. Talent is a terrible thing, if used in the wrong way... You never could accept the fact that death is far from being the end. For me it was more of a blessing. You did me a favour of sorts, really," Dumbledore chuckled. "I am much more agile now --" (Voldemort couldn't hide his surprise as the old wizard started whirling around and doing things that even he, in his best years, couldn't.) "--and much stronger too."
It seemed as though Dumbledore completely forgot why he was there and he kept jumping around like a four-year-old until Voldemort cleared his throat.
"Bellatrix…?" Voldemort didn't finish the question, narrowing his eyes in deep suspicion and mistrust. He wore an expression of revulsion. "This was all your doing, wasn't it?"
Dumbledore stopped as suddenly as he began and sat on the bench.
"My dear Tom, I must ask you this. How did you feel tonight?"
Voldemort glared at him. "That is none of your business, old man."
"Oh, on the contrary, that is very much my business," the wizard smiled in amusement. "You see Tom, I know how you felt – I saw the look in your eyes. You were confronted with the unknown. All these years you denied the existence of anything more powerful than the Dark arts, you scorned at me when I told you that there are powers greater than anything you've seen so far. Now you were faced with the power of love and even though I saw the way you tried to resist it, you were helpless against it at the end. I could have killed you, you were powerless…but as I said many times before, death is not a proper punishment. It is far more valuable to teach you a lesson. All your anger, resentment, and hate towards other human beings were nothing against this little display of caring…of love. As hard as you try to deny it, you will never win. At the end Tom, power of Light will prevail, and not because I say so but because people (wizards and muggles alike) will realise that darkness offers nothing but pain and despair and they will turn towards the Light."
For a few moments they sat in silence. Voldemort's head was spinning and he couldn't bring himself to say anything to the old wizard he hated so much. Suddenly Dumbledore stood up, pointing his wand towards the sky.
"Don't worry Tom, none of this is real and Mrs. Lestrange is safe in her bed. I just wanted to teach you a lesson, which I never could when you were a student… Oh, and Tom – happy Valentine's Day." With a chuckle Dumbledore slowly disappeared out of sight and the whole world swam in front of Voldemort…
The Dark Lord jumped to his feet only to realise he had fallen asleep in his chair. He checked the hand-made, old cuckoo clock in the room. It was only 3.15 am. While stretching himself he remembered the dream – no, a nightmare, he thought. Had it really been Dumbledore or was it just his subconscious mind working against him? It had seemed so real, so vivid. But then again, he played the same mind trick on Potter once and the fool fell for it. He was sure now that Dumbledore wanted to play the same trick on him, though it was beyond him how the old muggle-lover could appear in his dreams. It doesn't really matter, what matter is that Dumbledore wanted to make him soft; he wanted to make it easier for others to defeat him. Love, he sneered, love makes you weak and that is what defeated him. He would never fall in love like in the dream; he would not become weak and sappy as do those who believed in love. No one would be able to defeat him. He would show them that there is no power as strong as the power of the Dark side.
Happy Valentine's, you old fool.