Voldemort's point of view

It had been a long day. He had been working non stop for such a long time. Death Eaters were coming in and out of the room, bringing with them more bad news each second. The worst of it was Lucius, who told Voldemort that the latest attempt to steal the prophesy from the department of mysteries. At this Voldemort lost control. He tortured Lucius for around ten minutes, and forbid anyone to bother him again for the rest of the night, knowing full well nobody would be fool enough to when he was in this mood in either case.

Voldemort was exhausted. The last time he had been so tired was when he was back at the orphanage, at the age of eleven. That had been a wonderful, but very tiring day. He couldn't for the life of him place why he was so tired now though. He got into bed without changing. He was about to drop off to sleep, but suddenly he didn't feel tired anymore, he could feel his adrenaline rising as though he had just been scared by something, and a strong annoyance that didn't belong to him rose up inside of him.

"I'm sick of all of this, I can't take it anymore, I'm done with it, I won't let you control me anymore... Voldemort." Tom's voice rang out in his head. Voldemort turned over if effort to find sleep. He was sure he was being paranoid, imagining things. Tom Riddle was dead... right? He couldn't ignore the sudden changes in emotion, however. As he closed his eyes, the still young voice of Tom Riddle called out again. "When you drop off to sleep, I'll take over again." Voldemort laughed out loud, cruelly.

"You?" He thought firmly, knowing Riddle could hear him. "You're so weak, I was able to overpower you when you were at your peak mental fitness. Taking back control for more than an hour or so is completely impossible for you."

"I have no need for an entire hour... I'll have her get you out."

"You're bluffing."

"I'm not."

"You don't know where she lives."

"Yes I do, she told me."

"You'd never."

"Try me." Voldemort was scared now, and, evidently, Tom could sense it. He laughed at him.

The teasing, humorous, boyish laughter filled Voldemort's mind until he couldn't hear or think of anything else. It stopped even more abruptly than it started. "You say I'm the weak one, you truly are a fool, there's a reason you have never beat Dumbledore yet, because he's right and you're wrong." Tom had crossed the line. Using his immense skill of legilimency he pushed the young spirit back into the depths of his mind. He immediately felt drowsy again, and realized all the energy he had just possessed belonged to Tom. He nearly dropped off to sleep, but the thought of Tom's threat stopped him from doing so.