Ah the pain -- glorious pain, how it shoots up through the entire body. It is good pain. Pain that can be used for energy, and as I duel the darkest of the dark wizards Voldemort, the pain feels good.

It lets me know I am winning.

We are in a dark and gloomy house that smells bad, like rotten things -- eggs, meats, cabbages -- I'm not good at describing stuff much, but let me tell you something really important: the smell was so bad, so bad, that it was tough to concentrate on my spells.

But I have a secret that makes me good at duelling, I have a list of spells that I run through mechanically. I am a machine. A dueling fighting machine and that gives me my advantage.

How can Voldemort surpass a machine like me? I can fire spells at a rate of two hundred a minute. Ten spells in total, the first ones are easy, the last one's hard: Avada Kedavra.

I hate the hate in it, but I have to use it or else Voldemort would see through the pattern and then I'm basically fucked. But the first spell is good.

Stupefy. A nuetral spell, its soothing, because it has no use for me. It can be batted away easily by even moderately skilled wizards, but it is the start.

The gateway to the best duelling minds.

Then comes my favorite spell, its even better than the stupefy because it is powerful.

Expelliarmus.

This can be batted away too, but if I do both the spells fast enough, like say two or three spells a second while running through my list, they combine to form a single bolt of power.

Which is hard to shield from considering the avada kedavra has no shield.

I am very intelligent.

Voldemort is clever.

There's a big difference you see because intelligence is simply put, awareness.

Cleverness is the mobility of mind.

Blitzkerieg.

Speed, mobility, firepower.

I have all three, Voldemort does too but he is not aware of what it takes to win.

Because he does not have patience.

I have read more books than any man alive, over three hundred thousand maybe.

I have intelligence. Slow, cumbersome, tedious intelligence.

But its brilliant.

Combined with my mechanical way of duelling and my unorthodox methods of war, I can win.

So we fight in this house, the Riddle Mansion, where I have cornered him. Can I beat him here? I doubt it. In all our fights, we reach a draw, a standstill so what hope do I have of beating him here? We fight like we play ping pong, we bounce off our losses and defeats and we come right back to win against each other.

Voldemort is a man of my own heart.

Merciless, laughable, crazy.

"We could have been allies," I said as we caught our breath, "We are so similiar to each other."

Voldemort's eyebrows rose and he smiled, "No, Potter, you are on the wrong side."

"And so are you AVADA KEDAVRA!"

He Dodges. Wizards like him always dodge that.