No one is pure evil. There are those that come close, but no. No one is pure evil. Fact.
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Voldemort sat, alone in the room. He liked being alone. It gave him time and the chance to think. Wormtail was around somewhere, probably on an errand. Voldemort had pity for the man. So unsure of himself.
Harry Potter. That name had plagued his thought for the past 15 years. He hated the boy. Partly because of his nature, as the heir of Slytherin, he was to hate the heir of Gryffindor, due to circumstances beyond his control and events that happened a thousand years ago. Slytherin had left the Hogwarts four after a heated argument with Gryffindor about the students he wanted to be bought to Hogwarts. From that moment on, the war had been passed on. From father to son. From mother to daughter. One day, the descendants of Slytherin would triumph. At least, that is what had been told. Voldemort knew the boy was strong and had to be got rid of before it was too late.
But even in his hatred, Voldemort envied Harry Potter. Harry once had parents who loved him more than anything. Voldemort admired the bravery of James Potter, who fought and lost in a vain attempt to save his wife and son. Of course, the once heir of Gryffindor would have been brave. It was a quality honoured by Gryffindor. Lily Potter. She was no threat to him, being of muggle parentage. He had even offered to spare her but she was too stubborn and protected her son with old magic. Strong old magic. How was he to have known that the moment he tried to kill the boy the spell would be reflected back onto him? Lily had been killed, of course but Harry survived, leaving Voldemort nothing more than a spirit.
Yes, Voldemort envied Harry Potter. His friends loved and cared for him. He had glimpsed one of them. A girl with brown hair 5 years ago. She showed her true feelings for him and her faith and trust in him. No one trusted him. Feared yes, but trusted no. He could see the bond between them and knew that it was unbreakable.
Only once had Voldemort ever been cared for. A long time ago, when he was till Tom Riddle.
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Her name had been Elizabeth, Lizzie. It was in her and Tom's third year at Hogwarts. She was a Gryffindor, with long blonde hair and deep blue eyes. She was very very pretty and very kind. Even with their differences, they had become best friends. They first met after they were paired for a potions lesson. Despite working with a Slytherin, she was friendly towards Tom, genuinely finding him interesting. As the years progressed, they became closer and closer until they were Head boy and Girl in their final year a Hogwarts. At Christmas, Tom finally confessed his feelings. Luckily, Lizzie returned them and they spent the last 6 months at Hogwarts together. Even with all the taunting of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin dating, they stuck together.
On the last day, Tom proposed her at the ball. She accepted happily and there were tears from both parties. It was young love. Beautiful and true. They thought it would go on forever.
But, nothing lasts forever. As Tom became more and more engrossed in the dark arts, he turned and gathered a secret group of servants and they used the name he had hidden from Lizzie, Lord Voldemort. They killed many and pitied none. Voldemort made many powerful enemies.
One day, Lord Voldemort returned home to find a doors slashed, windows broken and blood covering the walls. Panicking, her ran upstairs and found his fiancée, lying on the bed, covered in blood. He ran over to her. She wasn't breathing. She was gone. On the table next to her he found a gun. A muggle weapon used for killing. And a note saying 'Pay back'
The young man cried and wept for a long time, before he informed the Ministry of Magic. They hadn't had wind of his killings yet.
Ironically, he took no shame in killing others, but when something he loved was destroyed, he was distraught and in grief.
And that was the end.
Voldemort became obsessed by his grief and his killings grew more brutal. An angry persona took over and the loving side of him was concealed forever.
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Still alone in his room, Voldemort took a small picture from a deep pocket inside his robes. It showed two teenagers, one a boy with black hair and a girl with long blond hair, happy together. These were the happy, bright times. Now, it was dark times.
So, no one is pure evil. There are those that come close but no one is pure evil. No one.