Icy Destiny
By: xxlostdreamerxz
Disclaimer: No I do not own HP.
Chapter 12: Hold Me
"Up!"
Tom smiled fondly and gently picked up the wiggling form of his two year old son. He shifted the boy and leaned forward to peck the boy on the nose, causing Harry to giggle in delight. "You're getting quite heavy, child," he murmured, as Harry snuggled into his arms.
"M'not fat," Harry pouted.
Tom's lips curled in amusement. "Of course not," he said evenly.
The boy gave his father a considering look before smiling brightly, all things forgotten. "Okay," he said cheerfully, reaching up to play with his father's wavy black locks. They were so shiny and soft! It was then decided that something that shiny had to be tasty! Harry reached out and gave the lock a hard pull…
"No, eating hair," Tom chided gently, having mentally prodded his child's thoughts. "I promise it won't taste good."
Harry gave his father a sad look…
Voldemort jerked back to reality with a start, meeting the elemental's emerald green stare curiously. He didn't know why it was that memories of him suddenly decided to surface. His jaw clenched in both self-loathing and frustration. Of all the colors, why did the elemental's eyes have to be the exact same shade as Harry's?
"What's your name, Elemental?" Voldemort demanded, his voice not as harsh or cold as he would have liked.
The boy stared up at him with unabashed curiosity, tilting his head to the side to get a better glimpse of the Dark Lord. He shifted his posture like a bird would; it was almost as if he was trying to study him from all angles. "My name is Harry," he said finally.
Harry? How dare he possess the same name? Voldemort grinded his teeth angrily, shooting the boy a dangerous stare…with which the boy met unflinchingly. He had no reason to both conversing with the child. He should have gone ahead with his plan and eliminated the Elemental from the start. But…Voldemort's hand tightened against his wand…after years of mindless torment over his son's murder, he wanted some reprieve. He wanted to...
"Are you the Dark Lord? The one whose name everyone is afraid to say?"
Voldemort studied the boy, taking in his appearance. The child looked about sixteen years old and was wearing the most peculiar outfit – a shirt patched from leaves, khaki pants, and no shoes. He paused as he really looked at the boy. Dark wavy black hair, high cheekbones, and a particularly familiar pair of emerald green eyes. His heart thumped loudly in his chest.
"I am," he hissed, refusing to take his eyes off the boy. The resemblance was uncanny. But it was preposterous! Voldemort's ire heightened, as his heart and mind battled for dominance. He couldn't possibly be my child. Harry was a squib. He couldn't have survived the storm…"
Instead of backing away in fright, Harry's expression brightened with curiosity. "Really now," he said, interestedly. "I've been waiting to meet you for quite some time now." Harry paused, lips quirking into a smile. "Well, maybe not that long, I suppose. But I do have some questions for you…if you'll answer them that is," he said as an afterthought. "And then we can fight afterwards?"
Voldemort's head spun. I can't believe someone is negotiating with me!
Most people either burst out in tears or dug out their wand and cursed him with every spell they knew. "Why do you want to speak to me?" he spat, feeling decidedly frustrated that he couldn't raise his wand to the boy until he uncovered the truth. "Are you getting tired of being Dumbledore's little attack dog?"
Harry looked unaffected at Voldemort's little dig.
"Attack dog?" he scoffed, "I've hardly ever fight actively beside Dumbledore's Order." The boy sighed, feeling decidedly tired. "But yes, I wanted to ask you why you chose to instigate this war...and what your aim is?"
Voldemort resisted the urge to both crucio the boy and pat him on the back. "To create a pure, dark society of course," And hurt them as much as they've hurt me. He sneered, carefully weighing the boy's expressions and behaviorisms. They were so similar. "Hasn't Dumbledore brainwashed you yet?"
This time Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course not," he said evenly. "He's a Light Lord, for Merlin's sake! He wouldn't deprive someone of their free will." He paused, before adding, "Though…I do suppose he does make it a point to constantly prattle on about how 'evil' you are." He shrugged lightly. "But it's not his fault that his followers follow his suggestions almost blindly."
"If you are already aware of my agenda, why pester me with all these inane questions?"
The boy clicked his tongue thoughtfully, pausing to carefully consider the dark lord's words.
To be Continued...
Note: Sorry this is so short, I decided to cut and edit out the fight scene to make the story flow better.
