What He Saw
AN: This is something that I put together when I started thinking about what happened when Voldemort passed out after "killing" Harry. Hope you like!
It was silent. The death eaters surrounded him, flanking him, as always. They looked at him expectantly, then switched their eyes onto the boy. They were watching, watching and waiting for someone to make the first move. But the Dark Lord knew that he had nothing to fear, he could see it in Potter's eyes. The boy was broken, broken and weak. Voldemort was unstoppable, and he tilted his head at the end of it all, lifting his wand arm, grinning if only a bit as he watched Harry Potter take his last few breaths of air...he had waited for so long for this.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" He screamed, tightening his grip on his wand as his eyes widened. There was a flash of green light, reflected in the eyes of the Death Eaters. A smile appeared at the sound of the body falling to the ground, but it was replaced soon with a look of surprise as he fell himself, blacking out.
It was bright. Brighter then anything that he had seen before. He grimaced at it all, stumbling to his feet as he looked around. That was when he realized something different-he had his old body back! Flexing his fingers, Voldemort looked at his arms, humanly pale. He also realized that he had no clothes on, and he cursed in his head whoever had brought him here.
Was this death? No, death was certainly not this. Besides, he was unable to die-he still had his horcruxes, scattered around, protecting him. Besides, he didn't believe in anything after death.
Voldemort began to walk around, but it was hard to see where he was going: there was nothing but white everywhere. He took deep breaths as he kept walking blindly, reaching out now and trying to grab onto something. After a bit of that, he caught onto something. Reeling it in, he saw it a robe, which he greedily put on, pulling it over himself before drawing back to his normal height.
He glanced around him. There was no noise, no sound, no nothing.
"What is this?" He demanded angrily, menace in his voice. "Answer me!" He demanded. There was silence for only a moment before a figure became prominent against the white. He was a familiar figure to Voldemort, one all too familiar in his opinion. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the old man, his hair long and wispy as ever.
"You! Your dead!" Voldemort said, holding up an accusing finger. Albus Dumbledore sighed.
"So it would seem, Tom."
"Don't call me that name," Voldemort hissed, his teeth gritted.
"Oh yes, I've forgotten your dislike for that name. A fine name, in my opinion..."
"I'm not interested in your stupid small talk, old man. I think you'll want to know that the war has turned for the better-for me-ever since a few moments ago. Harry Potter, dead at my hands!" Voldemort stared at the man, curious at his reaction to the death. But instead of crying, begging for Voldemort to bring him back, Dumbledore merely frowned, the age on his face showing. This wasn't what Voldemort had wanted. "Well? Are you going to say anything?"
"It seems you've won," Dumbledore said, raising his eyebrows. That was what Voldemort had wanted, but for some reason it didn't make him happy.
"I have," Voldemort whispered.
"Tom."
"That's not my name!"
"It is the name given to you by your father-"
"DON'T SPEAK OF HIM!" Voldemort bellowed, walking towards him. "I may not have my wand, but I can still hurt you!"
"I am dead. You cannot hurt me. You will only be hurting yourself."
"I don't have time for your cryptic riddles. I am the winner! I have bested so many others before me! James Potter, Lily Potter, Harry Potter, all dead! I am the winner!"
"But at what price?" The words were bellowed as well, interrupting the loud rejoicing of Voldemort. He gritted his teeth, shaking his head and laughing now. A high, false laugh that echoed.
"What price? There is no price. I have become the supreme wizard, above all others. I regret nothing."
"Do not lie to yourself, Tom."
Voldemort laughed, but this time, it was more of a nervous laugh. An insane one. "What are you talking about? Why shouldn't I be happy? I have everything! I have power!"
"But is this what you have always truly wanted?"
"Yes, of course. There is nothing more that I want than power! I am power!"
"But don't you ever think that if you could go back, go back and change anything, you might feel remorse..."
"Nothing could make me feel remorse. I am not mortal. I have my followers. People tremble in fear at the very mention of my name! I have everything that anyone could ever have hoped for. Why would I feel something foolish like remorse?" There were silence at the words, as though Dumbledore was still thinking about what Voldemort had said.
"...I see." There was silence. "Tom, you are not a murderer. This is not who you are."
"I'm not a child anymore! Things have changed. I can do whatever I want. I will hunt down and kill every mudblood that there is, all muggles will die by my word! This world will die, and I will be the one who everyone looks to for the blame. But what these people don't understand is that this is only a game to me. And I am the winner!"
"You have won? What have you won?"
"Power. Strength beyond comparison. Anything that I could have ever wished for and more."
"So is this what you were planning? Ever since that day at the orphanage, when you found out that you were a wizard? Did you want to see so much death and destruction?"
There was a pause this time. "O-of course," was all Voldemort replied with. "Why wouldn't I want this?" His voice trembled.
"Because, Tom, you are a human being. There is only so much that anyone can take."
"That is a lie," Voldemort whispered. "I have no regrets."
"None?"
"Never."
"You miss no one?"
"There is no one to miss. There is nobody who cared about the affairs of a small orphan boy. That is why I swore to take revenge, on all of them." This made a sad frown appear on Dumbledore's face.
"But that is not true," he whispered.
"It doesn't matter anyway," Voldemort snapped, taking a step back. "What is done is done. I am the one who killed the "chosen one." I am the Dark Lord!"
"There were those who cared."
"And they are dead!" He screamed. "It is a lesson to learn! Those who care are those who die."
"You gave up everything..." Dumbledore whispered.
"Everything for glory. And fame. And everything that they said I wouldn't have."
"Do you feel happy then? You have proved your point."
Voldemort frowned. "Take me back," he said quietly, "Take me back to the forest. I want to begin my new life."
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "It's obvious that the boy who I knew is gone. But he was there, and he has left his mark. Think about what I've said, Tom, and think about if you believe in everything you've done." But even as he said these words, Dumbledore faded away from Voldemort's view, and he covered his face as he was blinded once more by a flashing light.
Voldemort's eyes flashed open once again, and he sat up. Around him was a crowd of his followers, eyes widened with curiosity and fear. "Away!" he ordered, standing up.
In front of him, in the middle of the clearing, was a body, lying on the ground. Voldemort stood still where he was, staring at the figure as though he couldn't move. Bellatrix, beside him, moved to his side. "My Lord..." she whispered, a happily foolish grin on her face. Voldemort held up a hand to silence her.
"Is he dead?"
His words rung out, and he looked around at his followers. "Well?" He thundered. With this, Narcissus Malfoy broke from the crowd, running over to the boy. She knelt beside him, seemingly checking his pulse. The clearing became tense, and Voldemort drew in a deep breath.
But as Narcissus arose, she had a relieved grin on her face. "Harry Potter is dead," she declared. At these words, several cheers broke out. People began to dance around, and Bellatrix ran to her master's side.
"That's it then!" She cackled insanely. "It is over! You have won everything you ever wanted!"
Voldemort nodded. "Yes..." he said, looking once again at Harry Potter's lifeless body.
But what was the price for this?