I stared up at the brick house in front of me, a grin itching across my face. Silly. It had been silly of them to think I wouldn't find them. To think they could hide behind that old fool forever. To even imagine that they could escape me: Lord Voldemort.
Little did they know, their dear friend Peter Pettigrew disclosed their location to me mere minutes earlier. I could imagine them sitting comfortably inside unaware that the most powerful wizard of all time was right outside their door. I thought of replaying my little dictator monologue, my Hitler speech then thought better of it. The timing had to be perfect; why waste such a good piece of work on a mudblood and blood traitor?
Still, an overwhelming wave of pure satisfaction washed over me as I pictured the fun I was about to have. I was one more step closer to the power I wanted. After I got this little "errand" out of the way there'd be no stopping me (unless of course you counted Dumbledore, but why bother. For Christ's sake he was like a hundred.) There were two baby boys who fit the prophecy, one of which I disposed of days ago. As I suspected, Dumbledore had tried to hide both and so far he was failing horribly. 'One down, one to go' as the Yanks say. Alas, the Longbottom's had been far too easy to break. One little Cruciatus curse and their minds melted away like the first cube of sugar into fresh hot coffee. They spent there last moments rambling on about random nonsense, completely oblivious to their wounds, and the fact that their son was about to be murdered. In the end, I killed them just to stop the noise. It had been truly: Boring….
My hand grazed the doorknob as I caught my reflection in the window, my fair skin a pale moon in the darkness. My black hair shone richly, the few waves still in place and I smirked at myself. "Honestly, Tom, sometimes I think you're obsessed with me." I unlocked the door with a quick spell (too easy.) and crept inside.
The sitting room was empty; the smell of hot chocolate invaded my nostrils. I felt like gagging. For a second a pictured Albus cozy and content, a pair of adult sized footsy pajamas on. This time I did gag, my contracting involuntarily against the image. A fire burned in the heart, the flames licking the last bits of wood. They must have been upstairs. I moved swiftly through the small living room, my wand at the ready. I was surprised I hadn't encountered anyone yet. Surely they'd noticed my presence by now?
A woman's laugh echoed through the house and I realized they were upstairs and obviously complete unaware of my entry. It was stupid. Almost too stupid to be real; it had to be a trick. Neither really mattered to me, they'd die just the same. I climbed the stairs, my heart in an endorphin pushed frenzy. It felt as if my mind was racing a mile a minute. Not of fear, or nervousness, but sheer anticipation.
I crept softly upwards, my finger grazing the banister. It was still warm. They couldn't have been up here long. I reached the top and the laughed filled the hall once more. It was joyful and carefree and dripping with betrayal as it led me right to her. I stopped outside the door, her door, peaking in through the small crack.
I just stood there for a moment watching as the women placed her baby in the crib. Her name, as I'd been told, was Lily and as her red tresses fell past her shoulders I couldn't help but regret what a waste it would be to kill her. Not a big waste mind you, I just don't usually see such beautiful red heads. Personally, I favor brunettes. She was attractive at most. She was a tad too thin, her jeans hugged her toothpick thighs but above her waist she hid a utopia. Her breasts were large, untouchably soft mounds under her blue shirt and once again I pitied what a waste she was. She could be really cute if she wasn't a dirty mudblood.
The hair rose on my neck as the voice, I tried so hard to shut out, came back full force. It taunted me from the back of my mind. But you're a half-blood Tom. Your father was a worthless mudblood just like her. My grip tightened on the doorknob. I was, wasn't I? Because of my father: The filthy piece of bile that cowered at my feet as I pressed the tip of my wand to his forehead. I'd only met him once but it told me everything I needing to know and all I'd ever bothered to ponder about my beginning. The bloody coward left my poor mother to die. He never bothered to know me. And when I murmured the last words he'd ever hear with mortal ears, he hadn't even realized he was looking into the eyes of his son.
I bit my lip and pushed the thoughts away. Lord Voldemort didn't regret and was never woeful. The sadness crushed my spirit and at times, when I was alone and all my Deatheaters were asleep in their beds, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was a child pretending. That cold….the silence…
Suddenly this was the last thing I wanted to think about. I didn't much feel like pondering the works of fate or finding my way through the web tangles of my deep self conscious (if such a place existed outside my dreams). Right now, I wanted very much to kill the mudblood and spawn and call it a night. Perhaps I'd grab some firewhiskey before going to sleep.
The baby cooed (or whatever you call that insistent babbling) and my mind snapped back to the task at hand. This woman or more correctly, this whelp she made was a threat to me. He would likely to be my undoing. I pushed the door, the wood warm under my cold fingertips, my heart ready to explode. The door creaked open and she turned. It was like slow motion. Her hair whipped around her pale face and her green eyes widened in shock. Priceless.
Strange that everyone makes that same face. I mean, I get it. When most people see me the first thought probably isn't the most coherent. If I was a normal person and I saw the Most feared Dark Wizard of all time my first thought would probably be "oh shit" as well. But seriously everyone makes the same expression. The wide eyes, the inch or two of open mouth it's all the same. The Longbottoms, That idiot waiter the other day. What she did next shocked me. A small gasp of shock escaped her and she turned and started to run for the door in the corner of the room. The baby laughed (probably thinking this was a game) as his mother tried to leave him, he stood up, his hands clutching the bars. Gryffindor, indeed.
Her hand was inches from the door and all I could see was my father. My weak muggle father leaving my mother bruised, crumpled and sick in the dark corner as I slept in her womb. Suddenly I felt sick.
"Crucio!" I bellowed. She fell to the floor, writhing hysterically in pain. My laughter boomed, louder than I ever imagined and the infant laughed. Perhaps he really did think we were playing and at any moment she would jump up and yell "Gotcha.", but I knew better. I concentrated harder and she screamed in agony. My stomach fluttered with pleasure. Yeah that's what I wanted.
"Louder," I said.
"Fuck….you," she managed, through clenched teeth. I couldn't help but smile. It seemed a little late for heroics. Where was this Gryffindor courage a moment ago? I hit her with another jolt of the spell and another blood curdling scream escaped her; Music to my ears.
"Lily?!"
I'd almost forgotten about the blood traitor. I heard his footsteps and lifted the curse just as blood began to drip from her ears in quickening tiny rivers, bubbles of air sprinkled amongst the red. She lay there shuddering on all fours. "James!" She struggled to pull herself up but I threw a small jolt at her and she fell once more, sobbing into the carpet.
"Lily!" The man, James, burst in the room, his wand drawn. A second later it flew from his grip into my hands. "Well, how nice to meet you…James," He seemed to flinch as his name slid from my mouth. He was a tall man, about the same height as me. He was the perfect specimen of pureblood beauty. He had perfect hazels eyes that contrast beautifully with his pale skin, freckle-less unlike his female companion. To call him attractive would be a horrible injustice (apart from all the murders and whatnot.) And to top it all off, he had a mop of unruly black hair that nearly touched his shoulders. Yes, he was beautiful and I couldn't help but wonder what he was doing with such mudblood trash.
He stood there staring at me, his bottom lip quivering. "Well are you going to say 'hello'? Surely a pure blood wizard like you would have more manners. I feel very unwelcome. Your wife has been quite rude"
"Lord V-Voldemort," he choked.
"Yes. Pleasantries aside, let's get right down to business," I said airily. I was going to have fun watching them fall apart. "As I'm sure you know there is a prophecy about a child born to overthrow my rule. I've checked, as I'm sure Saint Dumbledore has and there are only two infants that fit."
"Two?" Lily choked. That was a surprise. I hadn't realized she was conscious, again. She was on all fours again, her red locks cloaking her face. Spots of blood littered her hands in small dots.
"Two," I repeated, chuckling at their stupidity. "Surely you knew of the other." Their silence said otherwise. I couldn't believe it. "Neville Longbottom. I killed his entire family two days ago. Surely you weren't foolish enough to think that was a random killing…..oh wait. Dumbledore didn't tell you, did he?"
Lily began to sob in the corner. James, however, just stared at me. I'd expected him to give me some stupid line about how he wasn't afraid to die and how Daddy Dumbledore would get me but he was silent. He just stood there looking at me with those hazel eyes. I shuddered. It was like seeing God. I looked into those eyes and saw no fear, no sadness, just a burning black hole of rage; A long never-ending well where the darkness is eternal and where the only sense is the stink of rotting flesh.
I cleared my throat, recovering quickly. "I must confess, I'm surprised at you James. You stand here as if you're talking with an old friend while your wife wallows in self pity, in her own filthy tears." His eyes flickered to his wife and I continued with a grin. "Your dear sweet loving wife tried to run when she saw me and you stand here calm as ever, when I'm prepared to kill the very same infant she left to die…"
"No! James… don't listen, he's lying."
"Shut up! Shut up you stupid cunt…," James whispered. "Just shut up."
A/N: left you a little cliffhanger there. Sorry. There so much to reveal I didn't wanna make it too long.