Back to the Beginning
Harry Potter is not mine, I am not JK Rowling. This is my first fan fiction, please rate and review! Note- The Angel of Death has several different names. The name that they are listed as while you are reading it is based on the glamour they have on at the time and what their current name is. I also had this idea that she has the ability to speak tons of different languages. I do not know any other languages, so if she is speaking in another language the dialogue will be italicized and I will state which language she is speaking in. She may also change languages in the middle of her sentences.
Chapter 1
The cloaked figure strolled through the battlefield, stepping over the bloodied bodies of fallen soldiers. Onyx wings stretched out from the figure's back, dripping with crimson blood. The sound of bones being crushed under the figure's combat boots echoed through the empty plain. They paused to loot the body of a fallen Death Eater, collecting a few wands and some food from the unrecognizable corpse. The figure laughed in a guttural fashion that resonated unnaturally among the dead bodies. The figure removed the mask covering the Death Eater's face, smirking at the horrid fate of the person. They waved their hand, and the corpse lit on fire, a bright beacon in the black night. The person continued this process on many of the bodies, before sighing and burning the entire plain.
The figure moved their feathered wings, rising off of the ground. They flew over to the nearest town, full of crumbling buildings. Rivers of blood flowed down the streets. The figure flicked their wrist, and waited for the spell to signify signs of life in the broken city. The spell did nothing, and they shook their head as though expecting those results. They opened the door of the nearest house, before stepping inside. There was a crater in the roof, and shattered glass littered the floor. They scanned the house, their gaze resting on the body of a young child. The figure conjured a ball of light, and noticed an expression full of pain and agony on the young girl's face. The girl looked terrified, and appeared to have been tortured to death. More bodies littered the floor in the next room. The figure strode out the door they had come through, flying out of the town again. They came to a rest in a forest with a pensive expression on their face; they seemed to be waiting for something.
There was suddenly a sound of leaves being crushed and branches being snapped a few feet away from the figure. They jumped up, smirking as a pale man with snake-like features sauntered towards them.
"Tom Riddle. I have been waiting for you all night." The winged figure rasped in a cold voice. "I see you and your Death Eaters have been busy. This battle has destroyed the last town in Spain. There is nothing left of Europe. There is also nothing left of your Death Eaters, you will see that I have killed them all."
"You are nothing but a menace," sneered Tom, "A menace that must be destroyed. I do not tolerate rebellion under my rule. You will regret your actions, pitiful as they may be. You shall die in vain; your rebellion shall perish with you."
"Do you not think that there is a reason that I have survived so long?" The black-clad individual whispered as Tom raised his wand, "A reason that I stand before you, while your entire army has just been massacred? A reason that I am the last one to oppose you, while every other magical being has been slaughtered? A reason that I have been the one to single-handedly annihilate your entire army while they hunted me?" They asked, as Tom paled, the smirk disappearing from his face. "I am the Angel of Death, Tom Riddle. I am a bringer of death and destruction. And yet, I was once a wizard. A wizard who hated you and opposed everything you stood for. My view has not changed, now that I work with Death."
Tom's expression hardened. "I am not afraid of you. I am Voldemort! I cannot be killed. I have never heard of an angel of death, you are just stalling. I cannot be killed by someone as pathetic as you."
"Avada Kedavra!"
The Angel of Death simply held out its blood stained hand and the spell went soaring in another direction. "You are so naive Tom Riddle. You think I have not learned your tricks, and how to evade them? I have been fighting you for decades, with different names and different allies." The figure stepped to the side as a few more green bolts of light flew towards where they were standing.
"Do you really want to fight me, Tom Riddle?" The Angel of Death goaded, as they conjured a ball of flames in one hand and held out the other palm, ready to cast deadly spells. Tom's expression turned to one of apprehension.
The Angel of Death threw their ball of flames, igniting their surroundings. They then wordlessly and wandlessly casted a deadly-looking green and purple spell, stepping closer to Tom as they did so. Tom simultaneously casted another Avada Kedavra, ducking his head to avoid the spells flying towards him. The spells collided, and Tom went flying back a few hundred yards from the force of the impact.
The Angel of Death had been standing much closer to the collision of the spells. They jumped to the side, trying to avoid any effects of the explosion. The Angel of Death looked up just as the spells hit each other. The impact resulted in a wave of heat and white light washing over everything momentarily. A small object suddenly appeared in their line of vision, golden and shaped like an hourglass. Their eyes followed the object as the white light hit into the hourglass, their expression turning to one of befuddlement, and a moment later intense anger.
"Time." They seethed as the hourglass shattered upon touching the light. Golden sand blew onto the angel's face from the shattered hourglass, suddenly glowing as though it had been touched by the sun's rays. A moment later the Angel of Death disappeared, leaving an unconscious Tom Riddle slumped against a tree in the dark and lifeless forest, sure to wake with a vengeance and confusion over the scorched path of earth where the angel had been standing.