One-shot. Can be interpreted however you like it. Reviews would be appreciated ofcourse
The night was cold, the ground was frozen. There was a feeling of dread everywhere around the landscape. The last remaining plants were shuddering in the colds and were devoid of any colour. In the middle of the wasteland stood a small wooden house.
The house was old and the roof leaked. The house was frozen from both the outside and the inside. A lot of planks were missing or broken, the windows were shattered and the glass that remained was decorated with ice crystals. In the ruins of the house sat one tall man on a chair, breathing in and out, forming small white clouds.
The scenery was only disturbed when with a small pop another man appeared. The man sat on another chair, which cracked considerately at the weight put under it, although the man was by no means thick; indeed, no trace of fat could be found.
"I spoke to your mother," the man who just Apparated said. The other man didn't answer for a while.
"So, what did she say?" he finally brought out.
"She's disappointed in you," the other man answered. "And yet she feels… proud, in a certain way. She feels proud as a parent."
The man snorted, drawing a few wheezing breaths. "Proud?" he asked, his voice tainted with disbelief. "I could be proud, my… associates could be proud. She cannot hold pride in her heart. Not for me."
"You're wrong. She does feel something for you."
"I haven't noticed," the man answered dryly. "Are you going to talk about that thing called love now?"
"I'm not," the other man answered, sighing a bit. "I've seen that every talk about emotions leads to a dead end. It's no use any longer."
"Yes, it is indeed no use to do so," the man drawled. "But no 'any longer.' There wasn't an use in the first place. Tell me, where have emotions brought you today?"
"Here," replied the man simply.
Both were quiet after that. For a while, nothing could be heard except for the blowing wind, and if you listened very carefully you could even hear a wolf howling and the cold cracking under it's own icy pressure.
But the two men kept quiet. Finally, the man with black hair, the man who Apparated began pacing.
"So, what do we do now?" the man sitting on a chair asked. He got no response except for a stare from the other man. Those eyes, those haunting eyes.
"Do your friends know about me?" the man continued. He still got no response.
"Have they left you?" the man lisped. "Have they left you… because of me?"
Still no response. The black-haired man kept his mouth shut and seemed to be in a state of… quaintness.
"What do you tell them? What are your answers to their questions?"
The man suddenly stopped pacing.
"My answer is that you're life is of no more meaning, Tom."
And the pale man, the red-eyed man, the menace once known as Voldemort shrieked loudly.
"Life? Death? I do not posses qualities of both! I am immortal, young one. My life is of no more meaning since it – doesn't – exist!"
Voldemort began pacing through the room now, mumbling angry. "I am more worth than life, I have cheated death by making it not exist, I am worthy, I am a God not you, you with those eyesthosefreakingeyes those things from your mother, I am not in a prison!"
The black-haired man smiled sadly.
"Still no progress, Tom. Goodbye for now."
And the man once named Tom Riddle, now known as Voldemort by everyone – since you're dead, Albus, you're dead and I've cheated it but you're dead and you'll never be alive anymore, and you are not immortal and I am immortal – began shrieking with rage again and he walked out of the house and through the barren wilderness.
And he had no food for days and had heard of no water for longer than that, since he was immortal.
But yet, after he reached the green horizon, he got trapped into the clouds and he could go no further and he could see no further, he couldn't hear, he couldn't speak…
And all the while a black-haired man followed and when Voldemort was caught into the clouds the man smiled ruefully.
"It's all an illusion, Tom," he said and with a small incantation Voldemort was freed.
The black-haired man walked away from the horizon and appeared in the world where he came from once again. And he watched as his great-grandchildren played and had fun and no worries in their life. And then he looked at the sky and slowly floated towards it.
"He's doing okay," the black-haired man said to the shadow of a young woman with strange eyes. And then both the young woman and he dissapeared
When the being once known as Voldemort looked around he saw only white, but his hands could be touched and he could feel that he walked on something…
I've cheated death
Furious and something – (happy?) – the being once known as Voldemort walked further and further until he saw something at the horizon. And the being once known as Voldemort ran towards the something at the horizon.
And what he saw chilled his bones and he breathed ice clouds once again and he cursed and he yelled and he kicked and he raged.
And finally he sat on a chair, waiting.
And he waited for eternity and he waited for what…?
And many people talked with him and many times he ran.
But for the immortal no redemption came. And when the world finally was gone, in a time nothing could describe, he walked once again through darkness and through light.
Finally he arrived at a grave. His thin, long fingers stretched out and touched the grave. The stone collapsed at his touch and many red lights emerged from the grave, and they were the first colour the immortal had seen for too long to be sure.
And then he looked at the grave and saw that it was a tomb and that once it had been white. But the tomb disappeared and colours appeared and they swirled around the immortal. And the immortal was sure he heard whispers.
And then the boy called Tom Riddle arrived at the platform amidst of many happy and laughing faces.
'come on, you don't want to be late, it's the first day of Hogwarts! By the way, what's your name? I want to meet a lot of friends and you're going to be first and we're going to be wizards and be heroes and scholars –'
Tom Riddle smiled.
Years later a small mischievous boy entered Hogwarts. And when he saw lots of things and talked with lots of friends he looked at the Head Table just as the Headmaster rose to his feet. And the Headmaster looked at him, of that the boy was sure.
And the Headmaster smiled to the boy, the boy that did not bear any curse mark and then he opened his mouth.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!"
fin