I don't own any of this and this story is in protest of a story when Voldermort and Darth Vader fought to a tie. My best friend and I wrote this story together.
An Epic Battle between Lord Voldermort and the Dark lord of the Sith
After a mishap at the Ministry of Magic, Lord Voldermort was transported into a dark room. As Voldermort looked around the room he saw that the only source of light came from a circular window in the wall ahead of him. To his shock the window looked out into the dark void of space. From the little light that came out of the window, Voldermort saw an outline of a single chair with the chair's back facing him. "Welcome Lord Voldermort" said the Voice behind the chair. "I have been expecting you."
"Who are you?" asked Voldermort "How do you know me?" The chair turned slowly around to reveal to the Dark Lord an old man dressed in a simple black cloak and in the man's right hand, he held a gnarled cane. "I have foreseen your coming," said the man in cloak. "Guards leave us." Voldermort looked behind him to see two men dressed in blood red armor turn and without a word walked out the door.
"Who are you?" asked Lord Voldermort again of the old man. "Your knowledge of my name is irrelevant for soon you will be dead" said the old man. "You're presence here in this galaxy is a threat to the peace and stability of my empire." With that Voldermort drew his wand out but before his hand could point at the old man his wand flew out of his hand. Voldermort was shock to see his wand as the old man snapped it in half.
"Your feeble magic is no match against the dark side of the Force," said the old man as he raised his hand and Voldermort felts feet leave the ground as he hovered in midair. In the same instant he felt his throat tighten, as if an invisible hand was choking him. His hands clasped his neck in a vain effort to save himself as his lungs and brain was deprived of oxygen and his vision began to blacken out. Soon, when conscious thought became almost impossible and Voldermort unconsciously knew that he would soon die, but it was at that moment that the hand, the cold, unforgiving hand of death, released him and he fell to the ground.
It was several moments before Voldermort felt strong enough to stand, and it took all of his concentration not to fall. The old man, his tormentor, coldly cackled. "Your powers are useless, and your way of life cannot save you." Lightning came out of his hands and hit Voldermort in the chest. A wave of pain shot through his entire body and he fell back to the floor as his eyes glowed in pain. As Voldermort looked up into the old man's face from the frigid steel floor as he started to laugh. "And now, foolish wizard, you will die." He raised his old hands for the final time and pointed them at Voldermort as lighting came out of his hands. The prophecy was wrong; Harry Potter would not kill him. Instead Lord Vorldermort would die at the hands of an even more powerful Dark Lord.