Scarless

Disclaimer: The idea, characters, places, spells, and all things related to Harry Potter, are property of Ms. J. K. Rowling and Warner brothers. Anything not featured in the books is of my design. This story will have spoilers from the sixth & seventh & pretty much all of the books. IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE HARRY POTTER BOOK SERIES, YOU PROBABLY SHOULD NOT READ THIS STORY, but you can if you want to. This story is based on the premise that Voldemort "dies" right out of Hogwarts.

Book 1: The Sorcerer's Stone rewritten or Harry Potter and the Mirror of Erised

Chapter 9: Farewells

A/n: I am very sorry for this, but I will be unable to finish this story for a while. Due to life circumstances, I am going to be taking a break from fanfiction for at least the next couple of years. I will probably return, but it won't be for a while.

I do intend to finish this story, and I would like to give you a sneak preview of a future scene.

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Voldemort's disembodied soul glided through the Ministry of Magic. Curse Potter, Curse his meddling friends, Curse that Headmaster, and Curse that blasted mirror. Nothing had gone right since he had tried to get that stone out of that mirror. Next time, he was going to double check his sources before he ran off to find something that could supposedly bring him back to power.

Voldemort paused as he wisped down another deserted corridor. It all started with his search for artifacts to make into Horcruxes. After that, everything had seemed to go down hill. He had had to work in that dirty little shop, had spent several months running around in the woods, before climbing over two mountain ranges to find that blasted cave. And then he ended up getting crushed to death by mindless giants. The indignity of it all left him red with rage, or it would if he still had a body to turn red. As it was, he merely stirred angrily and continued on. Supposedly, the ministry kept experiment's related to death down here, and it was possible he could find something to return him to life.

As Voldemort reached the bottomost level of the Ministry, he heard a rather loud crack behind him, and then a rather scratchy, yet high-pitched voice.

"Hello, Tom."

Voldemort whirled in place, his gaseous form forming into a semblance of a face. "Who dares call me by that..." Voldemort paused confused. There was no one behind him.

Someone cleared their throat. "Down here."

Voldemort directed his gaze downward. On the floor was one of the oddest creatures he had ever seen.

It was a house-elf, that much Voldemort knew. But, it looked...different from any other house-elf Voldemort had seen. It took him a moment to realize that it was the creature's body that startled him. The creature's body was toned and muscled, which looked oddly intimidating considering that fact that the creature barely topped three feet in height. It's eyes were narrow, and one eye appeared to have a scar across it. A black skull cap, though Voldemort did not know that was what it was called, rested on the creature's head, with both of the creature's tattered ears poking out through holes in the hat. The creature was wearing a sort of uniform. It looked like it had been cobbled together, as the green pants, that appeared to have once been shorts for someone, did not match the black vest that the creature wore in lieu of a shirt. The most dangerous thing was that the creature was holding what appeared to be a wand.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Dobby. You hurt my Master. Prepare to die."

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And that is a sneak peak into one of the scenes I have planned for this story. If someone wishes to continue this story, or write one based on this story, just submit a review for this chapter stating your intentions. If you want to see if anyone has anything planned for this story, just check the reviews.

Love you all, Happy Writing.

See you later.