I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER, but I do own a delightful pair of wool socks.
A/N HEEEY guys What's up? I just finished this for you guys it is a one-shot so I suppose I could write more if you asked but I'm not planning on it. Also I don't think I'm going to finish my Harry Potter Heir to the Creed. Note to all DON'T start off with a chapter fic as your first fanfic. Chances are you will quit it. So without further adieu.
He stood alone with only his constant breath to keep him company. The silence there was… deafening, the darkness of the room enveloped everything making a haze all around that nothing, except the familiarity of light could breach. Then one-by-one the lights overhead flickered on and he realized he was not alone, but with himself. He stared back at himself, realizing the horror, the monster he had become. He was surrounded by servants and slaves, but he was alone, with only himself for company. The true horror of the situation dawned upon him and he screamed out at the unfairness of it all. He kicked, yelled, and cried out in a pure animalistic agony. Finally he sank down onto the ground and began to weep and sob uncontrollably. This wasn't what he had wanted, he had good intentions. But the saying always goes. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. He cried forall the things that he had lost, his friends, his love, even his very mind was so twisted and warped that this was the first moment of clarity in many years.
Awaking in bed in a cold sweat he took many ragged breaths and looked over and saw one of his slaves he had taken to his bed. He had never seen her before. He stood up, staggering a bit as he did so, and walked to the balcony of his room at the top of the castle he owned. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The one place that had felt like home to him when he was a young boy. Coming from an abusive family and with nothing to lose. Staring out over the expanses of Scotland he took a deep breath and realized how wrong everyone had been. They had told him that he should have been just as bad as Tom, coming from similar circumstances. They thought he was saintly and a good person before. But he knew that his mind was far too twisted and he had done too many things to even consider redemption he climbed up onto his railing and closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry Daphne, I'm so sorry." He thought to himself as he psyched himself out for what he was about to do. A single tear rolled down his face as he remembered the woman he had once loved. He leaned forward and felt his feet leave the ledge, felt the wind rushing through his hair. He felt... free. For the first time in many years the wind rushed through his hair reminding him of quidditch, quidditch what a peculiar thing to think about at this time. Somehow though it seemed… fitting. For the first time in what felt like forever he smiled. Just before he greeted death as an old friend, just as his forefathers had.
That was how they found him next morning, the crumpled and mangled body of Dark Lord Potter with his final smile, still etched in his face. His followers rejoiced that morning at finally, FINALLY being free. Of their master, but he couldn't care less because after over thirty years He finally reunited with his family