As Time Stops
Word Count: 781
Summary: Another way the encounter between Harry and Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest could have ended.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All characters and places are property of J.K. Rowling.
'So' he breathed. 'You came.'
Harry tilted his head curiously. 'Did you ever doubt I would?'
'No,' Voldemort replied. 'But one cannot help but wonder'.
Voldemort glided forward as he said this, swiftly closing the gap between them. As he drew closer, Harry's vision tunnelled, his hearing grew muffled and the others in the clearing with them faded out of his awareness. If someone had told him that he and Voldemort were the only two people in the world at that moment, he would have believed them.
Abruptly Voldemort grabbed his chin, tilting his head to stare into the emerald green pools for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, he broke eye contact, lifting a hand slowly, hesitantly to brush away Harry's fringe, revealing the famous scar.
Slowly a smile stole across his face. 'This is what began it all. Isn't it?'
'To think that a mere baby could defeat the darkest wizard of all time and survive the killing curse!'
Voldemort gazed into Harry's eyes once more.
'But you've always managed to achieve the impossible, haven't you little Harry?'
Harry gave no reply and Voldemort's hand come up once more, hovering over the boy's scar. Voldemort glanced briefly at the boy, almost as if asking permission, before letting his hand brush over the symbol of his destruction. The boy closed his eyes and flinched away instinctively, but no pain came.
Voldemort chuckled and Harry's eyes snapped open.
'What?...'
He got no answer. Instead, Voldemort's crimson orbs once more sought his own, searching intently for something.
He obviously found what he was looking for because moments later he spoke.
'I once gave you a chance to join me and you turned me down. I'm going to offer you that opportunity once more little Harry.'
'But the prophecy-'
Voldemort flashed him a humourless smile and cut him off.
'Ah yes. "Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives".'
Voldemort shook his head sadly. 'Little Harry. Hasn't anyone ever told you that you shouldn't take a prophecy seriously?'
'But that one-'
'Is no more likely to come true than any of the other many thousands of prophecies made. A prophecy is a prediction of what could be, not of what will be. If ignored, nothing will ever come of it. It is only if you put store in what it says and act upon it that something will happen, and even then, one can never be sure.'
'Well that didn't stop you from acting on it,' Harry muttered petulantly.
'And look where it got me,' Voldemort replied, surprisingly gentle.
'Well what do you say Harry Potter? Will you take my hand and stand by my side?'
Harry looked away, lost in thought, before lifting his eyes to Voldemort's face, desperately willing him to see the thoughts and emotions raging inside him.
'I... I can't' he whispered brokenly.
Voldemort gazed at him silently for a few moments, before nodding solemnly.
'I understand.'
And with that, he stepped back. The effects were instantaneous. It was as if an invisible barrier had suddenly been brought down, allowing sound and colour to drift in and Harry was suddenly extremely aware of the presence of the Death Eaters around him. He chanced a glance at Voldemort and it saw that his kind and gentle facade had been ripped away, to be replaced with the familiar one of a monster.
Voldemort raised his voice to carry across the clearing.
'My loyal Death Eaters, Harry Potter has made is decision.'
A wild cheer burst forth from amongst the throng.
Voldemort lifted his wand and the Death Eaters fell quiet in anticipation. Suddenly Voldemort paused and stepped forward once more, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder. A moment of understanding passed between the two and Voldemort brushed his lips against the famed scar in a mockery of a farewell.
He brought his wand up to the boy's scar as the boy closed his eye's in silent acceptance. Then Voldemort whispered the words softly that even the most keen eared werewolf could not hear what he uttered. A flash of light, the colour indiscernible erupted from the elder wand and Voldemort caught the boy as he slumped forward.
A cheer rang out across the clearing and a battle cry was taken up as Voldemort smiled triumphantly. He issued orders for his Death Eaters to march on to Hogwarts as he hefted the boy into his arms.
In the chaos, he surreptitiously pressed two fingers to the boy's throat and smiled softly. The Child could afford to sleep for a few hours. He would awake to the dawn of a new world.
A/N Make what you will of this, because I don't quite understand the relationship I'm trying to portray here myself. It could be slash if you like, or it could be plain and simple Harry and Voldie being enemies. I think that maybe after all this time of trying to kill Harry, Voldemort gets to a point where when he gets the opportunity to kill Harry he can't, simply because he can't imagine life without Harry around constantly grating on his nerves. Or he could simply care about Harry, because even though Dumbledore says Voldemort is incapable of love, doesn't necessarily mean it's true. The fact that Voldemort sees Harry as a child might be bringing out his neanderthal protective instincts. I dunno. Tell me what you think! =)