The Boys Who Lived
Voldemort grimaced as he glanced at this alleged prophecy again. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..." He sat uncomfortably at his desk and stroked Nagini as he considered the validity of this prophecy. It was likely to be the mutterings of a mad woman as Sybil Trelawney was not known for her lucidity. It was also possible but unlikely that his follower Severus, an adept occlumencer, was feeding him a partial truth.
Voldemort had begun to distrust Severus recently. Not that Severus had done anything to directly breach his trust, but as Voldemort fixed his mind on at this point in time, one does not become The Dark Lord by leaving unnecessary risk unattended to. Voldemort rose from his desk and pulled his cloak over his shoulders. He thought of all the precautions he had taken in the past and how close he was to truly realizing his full title, Lord Voldemort.
He stood alone in the darkness for a moment, considering his murders and divided soul. He remembered the times Tom Riddle had felt guilt and loneliness for his obsession with order and power. Times the darkness frightened young Tom. But that was long ago. He had learned that guilt and dependence led to weakness, and weakness could never be tolerated. His lips thinned into a smile, as he stared deeply into the black. Oh, how he had grown since his murder of that naïve boy, Tom! The darkness now soothed him, was inside of him. "Loose ends. That was what Severus's skill in occlumency was and that was what this prophecy was." he mused as he departed his office and breathed, "Come, Nagini."
"You understand why I have to do this Severus, do you not?"
"Yes of course, Your Lordship."
"Very good, do not attempt to resist me... Crucio!"
Voldemort observed as Severus struggled against Nagini's restraining loops encircling both the chair Severus occupied and Severus himself. Severus began to let out groans of pain as his eyes rolled back into his head. Voldemort focused on increasing the intensity. The Cruciatus Curse was only exceeded in the caster's joy by the Imperius Curse in his opinion. Cruciatus was certainly enjoyable to watch, but one could certainly be much more inventive with the Imperius Curse, which appealed immensely to Voldemort's creative side. Voldemort had to know if Severus was hiding anything, as, out of all his servants, his potential disloyalty would be the only true threat. Voldemort had been using Severus as a spy at Hogwarts for some time now. If he turned out to be a double agent the results would be damning. The only way to prove Severus's loyalty with an occlumencer of his calibre was to break his will beforehand.
Severus began to writhe more intensely against Nagini's bindings to no avail, and drool began to foam from his mouth. In Voldemort's experience, most of those he tortured would be pleading for death at this level of magnitude of the Cruciatus Curse. However, Severus was holding up comparatively well, which only served to increase Voldemort's suspicions further. "No matter," Voldemort thought, as he would soon have absolute assurance as to whether his doubts were valid. He decided it was time to begin the Legilimency.
Voldemort delved into Severus's mind. He thoroughly enjoyed intercepting others' most private of thoughts. He could not become the dark lord alone. Although he hated it, he needed his servants to rise to the top. But reliance on others brings disorder that was in direct breach of his obsession with order. This is why Legilimency appealed to him. It allowed him to see his servants ulterior motives. But as Voldemort considered his love of Legilimency, he realized these were his own thoughts and not those of Severus.
Enraged he ceased all magical connections between himself and Severus. He questioned Severus, "Severus! I told you not to resist me, what is the meaning of this?"
"Sir, it's just as I suspected. I believe my talent in the art of Occlumency has provided me with a strong latent protection towards Legilimency." Severus replied.
Voldemort did not respond. He considered what Severus had just said. If this was true, how could he ever know if Severus was telling the truth? He could not. It is dangerous for a master to not be able to know his servant. He would not admit it to himself even, but Occlumency of Severus's power rivalled even that of his Legilimency. It could be used to aid his take over for great and terrible things, especially considering Severus's close ties with Albus Dumbledore. Voldemort feared Dumbledore. He hated that he did, as fear also brings weakness. Perhaps it was this fear, or perhaps it was his obsession with power, but Voldemort decided to take a calculated risk he would not usually take.
"You may go, Severus."
Voldemort stood menacingly over Harry Potter, staring. Harry laid between his dead mother and father, staring back blankly. There was something about Harry's gaze that made Voldemort uneasy. Harry laid there so calmly after the torture and murder of his parents. The boy reminded him of Tom. Young, powerless, and born into unfortunate circumstances. A boy cast from his mother's arms; a boy forced into the arms of an orphanage after the death of his own mother. The world had not been fair to Tom Riddle, and it would not be fair to Harry Potter. Voldemort slowly began to laugh as he embraced his complete transformation. He had become what had created the broken past of Tom Riddle.
As Voldemort regained his composure, he brought his gaze back to meet Harry's. Voldemort stared into the boy's green, glossy eyes. He saw Harry, Tom, and his own mutilated reflection. No! He was not this boy and certainly was not Tom. He had killed Tom and would kill this boy. He drew his wand back. "Avada Kedavra", he screamed as he flicked his wand towards the blank faced Harry Potter. A flash of green light. Then, nothing.
