The Imposter Complex

by Notus Oren

Tom Riddle escapes at the end of Chamber of Secrets, and is quite surprised to find that nothing about the future is as he ever thought it would be. Soon, Tom finds himself on a globe-spanning quest to follow the path his forebear blazed and perhaps, at the end, to put a stop to him once and for all.

35. A Tattered Mind

The Imposter Complex, Chapter Thirty Five: A Tattered Mind

:-:-:-:-:

Terracotta Army vanishes from dig site!

'What the fuck...'

I scurried through the brief article.

Muggle archaeologists in Sian, China were stunned on Thursday when they returned to work only to find that the clay soldiers they spent their days digging up and studying had vanished entirely, from both the dig site and the museum.

Experts from the Chinese Ministry have confirmed that the Army - as well as the anti-magical aura that they give off - are no longer present anywhere in Xi'an. This is made even more disconcerning by the fact that their presence was not felt in neighbouring provinces either. Just where has the ancient Army gone?

The Chinese Ministry has announced that they will continue their investigation.

I scowled. That's all there was? That's all they had to say about one of the most dangerous pieces of magic on Earth just up and disappearing? Fucking British media, I swear to Merlin.

No way it was a coincidence, so soon after Lord Voldemort's return. He had something to do with it. This was going to be a fucking problem.

Dumbledore needed to know.

:—:

'Come in, Tom.'

I put on my customary grimace, and pushed into the Headmaster's office, only to stop again in surprise. Nicolas Flamel was here, sitting across the desk from Dumbledore. They were in the middle of a cup of tea.

'Oh.' I said dumbly. 'You're talking again.'

'Yes, we have stumbled upon a compromise to come to.' Nicolas said lightly. 'A man like Voldemort is to all of us, even if the French ministry refuses to see it, a threat most existential.'

It was my first time hearing him speak in English. Unlike his French, which still retained his original medieval Parisian accent, his English was disturbingly devoid of any markers at all. But his sentence structure was odder than ever.

Upon the desk before them sat two orbs on little tripod stands. The one on the left was cracked across its centre, swirling with malevolent black smoke. The other was pristine, refracting light in a strange, shimmering pattern across the room.

I let out a puffed breath at the sight. 'Your Palantír.'

'Indeed it is. We are seeing if devising a method by which we may find repair for Albus' own is possible.'

Now that would be a coup. It had never been achieved before. But much as I hated to admit it, I was looking at two of the greatest minds in Europe, not merely one.

I brushed aside the topic, I could not get distracted. 'That's not why I came here, of course. Dumbledore, we have a major fucking problem.'

Dumbledore sighed heavily. 'It seems our lives have been nothing but major problems for the last few weeks. What is our latest?'

'The Terracotta Army are on the move.'

Flamel dropped his teacup, so startled that for a bare moment the Immortal's Mask fell too, and his alien nature slid across his face. He reasserted himself just as swiftly, but it still sent a little shiver down my spine.

Dumbledore was equally rattled. 'They're coming here?'

'No idea. They've disappeared from Xi'an. I just saw it in the paper.'

He leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath, staring into nothing. 'Shit.'

I blinked in stunned silence. In the subjective decade I'd known him, I'd never heard the Headmaster curse.

'Ours is a big planet. Many moving parts. It is not too paltry a hope to think this merely a coincidence.' Nicolas offered, somewhat lamely.

I shook my head. 'He was the first person to crack into that tomb in two thousand years, and they just happen to vanish two weeks after his return to power? No way.'

Dumbledore focused his gaze back on me, rallying. 'You have fought them before. We can do so again.'

I shook my head again.

'No, I barely got away alive, and that was when they were just defending the tomb, not fielded in battle. Modified muggle guns can slow them down, but they repair themselves in a trice.' I paused. 'There was something though. That sword, the one in Qin Shi Huang's sarcophagus, it could destroy them. But that rat-bastard American bloke stole it.'

'Find him.' Dumbledore commanded harshly. For once, it didn't grate at me. 'Fast as you can.'

'Already on it.' I said stoutly, and made to leave.

'Tom! One last thing.'

I wheeled back around, impatient.

'What?'

'I was intending to inform you after this meeting with Nicolas, but Harry has been given a clean bill of health, a little earlier than we expected. He should be able to return to classes tomorrow. Are you ready to face him?'

I blinked.

'Er, not really.' I don't know if I'd ever feel ready for that encounter. 'But send him to me anyway. May as well get that mess dealt with.'

He nodded solemnly, and I took my leave.

:—:

'...so the Great Hall is in absolute chaos, Lily is about four seconds away from hexing James' bollocks off, at which point I say "Hey Remus, I'm starting to think we should have checked what the counter-charm was before we convinced the entire school they had forgotten their pants!"'

I chuckled, and Sirius grinned. I'd needed a laugh, after a day like this. I'd set my classwork aside, and had spent the whole time sending off correspondence to my contacts around the globe. Gentleman thief Prosper Deveny may have gotten away with slipping my mind once, but he would not hide from me for long now.

It was late, and Sirius and I were in my office, sharing old stories whilst we awaited his ward. I'd decided it would be better if Sirius was here, mitigate the risk of Potter responding... poorly.

'Here mate, give this a geeze.' I said lightly, pulling out the bottle of alcohol that Krum had gifted me.

He took one strong whiff, and started coughing immediately.

'Merlin's beard, what the hell is that?'

'Rakija.' I grinned. 'Better get used to it, Viktor's instilled something of a fondness in me.'

His snide reply was cut off by knock at my door, audibly tentative even though it was shut. Sirius and I both sobered in an instant.

'Enter.'

The door swung open, and true enough, Harry Potter stood on the other side. He stiffened at the sight of me, even though he surely was expecting it.

'H-hello Professor.'

'Harry.' I said, configuring my expression into something non-threatening. 'How are you feeling?'

'Er, I'm alright. Still a little sore, I suppose.'

'Yes indeed. Facing down Lord Voldemort is no joke.'

He stood in the doorway, making no motion forward.

'Come in, Harry.' Sirius said gently. 'Shut the door, best not have any students listening in.'

Potter seemed to draw strength from Sirius's presence, and I silently congratulated myself on having arranged it. Even Gryffindors needed a rock sometimes. He strode into the room with newfound confidence, sitting down across from me. For a moment neither of us spoke.

'Are you really Voldemort?' He blurted out suddenly.

I sighed. 'Yeah. Or at least, I was, back in the day.'

'Dumbledore said you were the Diary.' His face scrunched up, suddenly angry. 'You tried to kill me!'

I grimaced and Sirius scowled, but remained silent as we had agreed. This was Potter's confrontation to make. He was only to intervene if Harry attacked me.

'I did. I'm sorry for it. I was... confused. I didn't have all the facts.'

'So what!' He snapped. 'I was twelve! Ginny was eleven! You tried to murder us! You should be rotting in AZKABAN!'

He lashed out at my desk, sending papers and ink bottles crashing to the floor. Sirius tensed, but I hardly noticed the damage, my gaze fixed on Harry. For one of the few times in my life, I had no words. The explanations I had carefully prepared had fled me, and I found myself unable to form a defence.

Harry glared daggers at me. 'Say something.'

What was there to say?

'SAY SOMETHING!' He demanded, practically screaming at me.

I steepled my fingers, and collected myself.

'...There is no defence for what Lord Voldemort and I have each done to you, Harry. No penance I can undertake that would make it all go away. You've every right to despise me for the rest of our lives. But I am not that person anymore. Quite literally in fact. I have dedicated the rest of my life to proving it.'

Potter folded his arms at me, thoroughly unimpressed. 'How?'

'By fulfilling this Vow.' I said, unbuttoning my sleeve and pulling it back to display my scar. 'Lord Voldemort will see his end by my hand, that I can assure you.'

Potter scowled viciously. 'Voldemort didn't try to eat Ginny's soul. That was all you.'

I drew a ragged breath. Why was this affecting me now, all of a sudden?

An insidious thought suggested trying for the same fiction I'd fed Bones, that the girl would have lived, but I quashed it. Lying to the boy now would defeat the entire point of this.

'...What I say now is not an excuse for my behaviour, for there can be none. But it is an explanation. When I met you, in the Chamber of Secrets, I was... not myself. I spent fifty years in that Diary, in an endless cycle of searing madness, and agonising sanity. When I was given the opportunity to escape, I seized it with both hands, and paid little attention to whatever was standing in my way. The human beings that I was hurting in the process.

'After I escaped the Diary, things... well things started changing. I reclaimed lost pieces of myself, each piece making me feel a little more human than the last. I turned against Lord Voldemort, and I've saved your life twice since. What I did to you - and to Ginny - was abhorrent. I can offer you little more than my regret.'

Harry was still for a few moments, absorbing what I had said. Finally, his face twisted again back to hate.

'I don't forgive you. Rescuing me from Crouch doesn't change what you did. I don't care if you've got Dumbledore and Sirius convinced. They don't know, they weren't there. They didn't see. You're a monster, Tom Riddle. You'll never be anything else.'

The words stung me, more than they should.

It was difficult to argue. After all, even back then I'd recognised what I was doing was ghoulish. Yet I hadn't hesitated, even for a second. Was I truly any different now? If I were cast back into that Diary, how swiftly would I find myself willing to do it all a second time?

'Perhaps you're right.' I said quietly.

'I know I am.' He said coldly.

The room sat in long silence. Finally, I breathed deeply and broke it.

'Monster or no, I intend to fight Lord Voldemort regardless. If you cannot find it in yourself to trust in me, then trust in this Vow.'

Potter looked at the scars again. 'Dumbledore said you Vowed that you would answer for your crimes after Voldemort is defeated.'

'I did.'

He leaned forward, and the vicious glint in his green eyes reminded me of myself.

'Then I will be there, and I will make sure they lock you in with a Dementor and throw away the key.'

At face value, the threat was laughable. After all, he was little more than a teenage boy, and I was, well, myself. Yet when I met his gaze, the intensity I found there gave me pause.

'If you must.'

That vindictive fire seemed to go out of him. He half-collapsed back into his chair, sullen.

'Was there anything else?' He asked in a monotone.

I cleared my throat. 'Unfortunately yes. There is still the matter of the Horcrux in your scar.'

Potter frowned. 'What's a Horcrux?

Gods damn you Dumbledore. You said you'd told him everything you senile old fuck-

I hid my irritation long before it showed. 'I'm sorry. Albus had advised me that he had brought you up to speed. Clearly he left out a couple of details. A Horcrux, Harry, is an extremely Dark bit of artifice. In essence, it involves the tearing of one's own soul, ripping a part off to be stored in an object. So long as that object still exists, its owner cannot die.'

I paused for a moment at the growing look of horror on his face. 'Lord Voldemort made several of these. I am one of those soul fragments. Your scar contains another.

Potter looked like he was going to be sick. 'Voldemort's soul is living inside of my HEAD?!'

'Just a fragment, Harry.' Sirius spoke up, his tone reassuring. 'But we're going to get it out of you now, you don't need to worry.'

'How?! You're not going to cut it off, are you?' Said Harry, his expression going from disgusted to fearful.

I shook my head. 'Of course not, Harry. It should take nothing more than a touch, and I should be able to extract it without injuring you.'

'How do you know?' He asked suspiciously.

'Harry please, I mastered this ritual before I was your age. You have nothing at all to fear.' I paused. 'Given how your scar responded to Voldemort's touch, it may hurt quite a bit, but it should only take an instant. A few moments of pain, and you won't have to worry about this scar ever hurting you again.'

Potter grimaced. 'No more dreams about seeing through his eyes?'

I tilted my head. 'You got those too, eh?'

'Yeah. I never got any visions from you though.'

I furrowed my brow. Curious. If Perenelle were here she could probably tell us why. Some odd quirk of soul magic, perhaps.

'Odd. I occasionally received visions from you. Nothing embarrassing Harry.' I interjected quickly, when the boy flushed. 'It's actually how I was able to find you at Crouch's, and when Lord Voldemort had you.'

He still looked mortified. 'Yes-I-would-like-it-removed-please.' He said in a rush.

I conjured a small rubber cylinder. 'Alright. Here, put this in your mouth so you don't bite your tongue or something. As I said, this is going to hurt.'

'I'm right here, Harry.' Sirius said, taking his hand. Harry closed his eyes with a look of fearful anticipation.

I reached out with one long finger, and brushed against Harry's scar. The world melted around me, and I was thrust into darkness.

:—:

As soon as I arrived on that familiar infinite plane, I knew something was wrong. The light on the horizon that ringed this place was not white, as it had always been in the past. Here, it was a deep bloody red, that flickered and flared like a dying lantern.

I turned, and spotted my other self. Only... he too was wrong. His form was fluctuating rapidly, in time with the light on the horizon. One moment he was as Lord Voldemort had appeared upon his first death - a blurred, melted face, a cruel grey-green gaze to match my own. The next, he became an abomination, a horridly asymmeterical merging of his first adult self and Harry Potter, lurching horridly to one side as one leg was abruptly shorter than the other, a mismatched jaw struggling to open.

'What the fuck...' I murmured.

'Di-di-di-diary! Ring! Chali-lice!' He struggled to articulate, his voice and form skipping and juddering like a scratched record. 'Where are-are-are-are w-we? Why are you-ou-ou-ou one agai-ain?'

'The Soul plane.' I replied. 'What happened to you, Scar?'

'Scar-ar-ar?' He asked, visibly confused across all his faces. 'I am no-not S-scar. I am Lord-ord-ord-ord-ord-ord Voldemort!'

'No...' I said slowly. 'You're a soul shard, like me. You've been living in Harry Potter's scar for the last fifteen years.'

'Harry Pott-tter-tter? No, no I kill-ill-ill-illed him!'

I frowned. One could not lie in the realm of Souls. This didn't make sense.

'What do you mean? You turned him into a Horcrux, that's why you're here.'

'No I did-didn't-idn't-idn't. Why would I make-ake-ake the child of prophecy-ophecy into my Horc-orc-orcrux?'

'Child of- what prophecy?' I demanded.

Scar raised one flickering hand as much as he was able, and the plane around us shifted. For someone who didn't know where he was a moment ago, he seemed to have no trouble at all navigating.

We were standing in a great and dark hall, hewn of obsidian. I didn't recognise it, but I recognised the people that now stood among us. They wore Death Eater robes complete with masks, but I knew them as Lord Voldemort would have.

The memory was as ravaged and corrupted as its owner, interference skittering across the chamber, furniture and people flickering in and out of existence at random. But the audio was mercifully not nearly as warped as Scar's own voice.

Lord Voldemort, adult and intact, sat on his black throne, lounging idly.

'My lord.' Severus Snape knelt before him, almost prostrating himself.

'Severus...' Lord Voldemort crooned, amused at how the relatively new recruit was behaving. 'Why have you requested a private audience with me?'

Snape almost stuttered with excitement. 'My lord, it is a matter that affects you personally. You may wish to hear it alone.'

'Reeeally.' The Dark Lord drawled, his tone mocking. 'Very well, Severus. But I warn you, if you are wasting your Lord's precious time...'

'I-I am certain that I am not, my lord.' Snape said, but I could practically smell the anxiety flowing off him.

'Bellatrix. Abraxas. The rest of you. Leave us. Wait outside.'

'My lord!' Abraxas stepped forward, and I felt a jolt in my imaginary gut. Though he was as masked as the rest of them, I did not need my link with Scar to recognise that voice. 'Are you certain it is wise to-'

'Crucio.' Lord Voldemort said casually, and Abraxas collapsed in agonising throes and screams of pain. I could only stare, aghast.

'Do not question my instructions, Abraxas. I would have hoped you'd have learned that by now.' Lord Voldemort said chidingly when he lifted the curse, as if he was merely issuing a mild rebuke.

'Yes my lord.' Abraxas said through gritted teeth. He picked himself up, and filed out with the rest of them.

Lord Voldemort turned back to a very wide-eyed Snape. 'Well Severus? What is it?'

'M-my lord, I went to apply for the role for Potions Master at Hogwarts, as you ordered. But I arrived early, and I overheard Dumbledore's interview with the Divination teacher.'

Lord Voldemort lolled his head to one side, looking bored already. 'Get to the point, Severus.'

He rapped his wand meaningfully against the side of his throne.

'Er, yes my lord. The Divination teacher, she gave a prophecy. A prophecy about you, my lord.'

Lord Voldemort went very still.

'Is that so?' He said slowly. 'Recite it.'

'Er, I was only able to hear a section of it before I was caught eavesdropping, but-'

'Then recite what you heard, lest I be forced to cruciate it out of you!' Lord Voldemort hissed angrily.

Snape shuddered, and did so without further remark.

'"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will-"' Snape faltered. 'That is when I was interrupted, my lord.'

Lord Voldemort's face twisted into bitter anger. 'You are certain you heard no more than that?'

'No my lord.' Snape cringed back, as if expecting to be cursed. But instead Lord Voldemort became pensive.

'Hmm. So little to go on. So little indeed. Yet, it may yet be enough.'

'My lord?'

Lord Voldemort leaned back into his chair, deep in thought.

'Yes, the criteria is rather narrow. Those who have managed to defy me thrice and lived... as you might imagine my dear Severus, that is a very brief list indeed.'

He stood suddenly, and made a beckoning gesture. The doors of the hall swung open, revealing the rest of the Inner Circle.

'All of you, enter. I have a task of most vital importance, for my most loyal of servants only. I shall be compiling a list of individuals that are of special interest to me. Seek them out, observe them, and tell me if any are with child, and when they are due. Whomsoever discovered the pairs I am looking for shall be placed first among all of you, my most trusted of all.'

The last thing I saw before the memory flickered and died out of existence was my forebear's cruel smile.

Back on the infinite plane, I turned my gaze to Scar's twisted visage with a sneer. 'Well well well. Dumbledore has been keeping secrets. Again. I'd say I'm surprised, but I don't think I am.'

Scar did not respond, instead simply staring off into the endless distance. I realised he was completely still, even the image of myself reflected in his eye was motionless.

'Scar? Can you hear me?'

I waved my hand in his face. Nothing. I strode around his figure, trying to figure out what war wrong. I had stopped paying attention to him while the memory was playing - how long had he been frozen?

Suddenly, he shuddered back into flickered motion, twisting around to look at me.

'Diary? Ri-ing-ing-ing? Chalice? Where-ere are we-e? Why-y-y are you wo-wo-wo-one again?'

A trickle of cold tingled down my spine.

'I... told you, Scar. We're in the realm of the Soul. You're a soul fragment, like me.

It tried to frown. 'N-no. I-I-I-I haven't perfor-for-for-formed a Horcrux ritual-al in a dec-ecade-ecade.'

Its behaviour making it all too clear that it was right. It was certainly no Horcrux. This was something... else.

'Scar... what's the last thing you remember before you woke up here?'

It became contemplative for a long moment, trying to think.

'I murd-urd-urd-urdered Lily Pott-otter. Then I turn-urned my wand-and-and upon the boy-oy. Then I was here-here.'

I grimaced. I knew what had happened next. I'd just been assuming there was something more.

I could see it now. How this... pseudo-Horcrux had been formed. My other self had made himself too unstable. He'd delayed completing the full set of six by a ridiculous stretch of time, robbing himself of the metastability we'd planned for. I may still not know the exact details of his death, but I knew it was explosively violent. It seems it had been violent metaphysically too.

Scar had frozen once more, when I stopped interacting with it. I sighed. This wasn't a man. This was just a chunk of mind that had been ripped away and left alone in the dark. It was little more than a garbled mess of memories with a skeleton of a personality stretched on top.

I put it out of its misery, driving my hand into his chest and wiping the tattered remnants of his mind away. We became me.

:—:

My eyes flickered open, in time to hear Harry give a muffled shout, and yank his head away from me. His scar had split open, a trickle of blood dribbling down his face.

I stumbled too, catching myself on my desk as a wave of memory crashed over me. Whether it was that my own share of soul had been so much larger, or that Scar hadn't been a real Horcrux, the rush of Lord Voldemort's past thoughts and experiences was far stronger this time. But they were a mess, all out of sync, leaping back and forth in time.

I remembered butchering man over a mandala painted onto an open dirt field, whilst the man's wife screamed and wailed from where he had bound her to a post. I remembered rending myself in twain, and binding a soul piece to a locket bearing the glimmering emerald sigil of Slytherin.

I remembered battling Alastor Moody in the middle of late 70s London, then plucking his eye from his head with my bare hands.

I remembered dragging the wife out, weeks later to create the Chalice. I realised with a pang that I recognised her from my Hogwarts days. One of the MacMillan family.

I remembered appearing by apparition, upon the cliffs in Wales I'd visited as a boy. This, I remembered thinking as I beheld the ragged coast, where lay a cave I knew well. This would do nicely.

The memories began surging by faster now, faster than I could absorb and entirely of order. Igor Karkaroff kneeling at my feet, replaced in an instant by a man who looked almost like Sirius. A stony sarcophagus etched with a Chinese script I couldn't read, fists beating Gellert Grindelwald into raw submission. The Daemon at Herculaneum, its face mocking. The ebony chest, sealing closed forevermore. Flipping through the Atlantean Grimoire. Gazing into James Potter's eyes as I killed him. Cruciating a Native American man in a forest-

'Tom? Are you feeling alright?'

My gaze flicked over to Sirius, and I realised I had been staring off into space, my mouth hanging loosely like a simpleton. He looked worried, despite himself.

'Yeah. I just-' The words stuck in my throat. I did, in fact, not feel alright. I had a strange sensation building up a presence behind my sternum. Was it possible to get soul indigestion?

'How's Harry?' I said instead.

'M'alright.' said Harry, standing up. He had a lightness to him, a spring to his step. 'Spectacular, actually.'

His scar had been sealed over again, by a spell from Sirius no doubt. It had already begun to lose its lividity; in time it would look like merely an ordinary scratch.

I dismissed them both shortly after, a wave of exhaustion sweeping over me. I needed sleep.

:—:

A whispered word and tossed pebble, a window sliding open. A dark form clambering out, leaping down into my waiting arms. A mischievous giggle, then a yelp when I pinch her arse.

'Tom, yous gonna get us caught!'

Me, chuckling, carrying her easily over my shoulder. She, not knowing I'd confunded the night watch lurking down the road.

'Fear not, my lady, I shall save you from these blighty dragons yet!'

She, guffawing merrily despite herself. 'Let me down, ye great lummox!'

Me, mock-offended. 'Lummox? Perhaps I ought to drop you in the loch?'

Her, kicking at my chest with her knees. 'Don't ye dare, Tom Riddle. I'll give ye a bonny black eye.'

Me, letting her down at last. She, brushing fiery curls out of her eyes. She was beautiful, alabaster in the moonlight.

'Where are ye taking me tonight then?'

'A special place.' My eyes glittering.

I'd told her I came from money, she was never surprised when I had a driver, and a Bentley to tuck her into.

'Is this finally the eve where ye steal me away for good?' She, saying it with a giggle as she always did. Me, finding no humour this time. The man I held under Imperius sliding us neatly away into the night. 'Far we going, Tom?'

Me, distantly. 'Somewhere private. I found something you're really going to love.'

Forest and farmland passing by, she and I huddling close in the back seat. Me, quietly adread of what is to come...

A cellar door, a long stony stairway.

She, nervous. 'I don't know about this Tom, this is fearsome.'

Me, reassuring. 'It's alright Sandy. Do you trust me?'

She, rolling her eyes despite herself. 'In every way there is.'

Me, grinning.

A mirror pushed aside, a dark hallway devoid of passers-by.

She, fearful now. All she sees is a ravaged ruin. 'Oh Tom, no I don't like this at all. We should go.'

Me, running my fingers through those coppery locks, the way I know she likes. A murmured Confundo, to take her edges off.

'It'll be worth it Sandy, I promise. You're going to love it.'

The Chamber's entrance, left open in my absence. A risk, but a necessary one. A long slide down to the chamber - she, whooping as she slides. Me, more reservedly.

She, buoyed by the charm, rushing ahead. Me, ambling behind. She, admiring the ancient statues.

'Oh it's bonny, Tom! I've nae seen anything like it.'

Me, smiling coldly where she can't see. 'I know you haven't. This place was built almost thousand years ago.'

She, awestruck. 'Woow.'

The mandala, laid out upon the cold stone before us. The Confundus charm dropping away. She, returning to her senses.

'Tom... fit is this place anyway?'

'Stand in the middle there, Sandy. It'll give you the best view.'

She, uncertainly now. 'Alright...'

Me, one arm around her from behind, a lover's embrace. A knife in my hand, rising.

Me, murmuring lowly in Greek.

'What did ye say there?'

She turns. I bring the knife down.

I shot awake, my world afire. I tried to scream, but the noise died in my throat. It was a searing agony in my chest, unlike any I'd felt in all my life.

It was the memories. The memories I'd kept at bay for so long, even at my lowest state. The months I had spent, seducing her to love me, whilst I, the fool I am, grew to love her. Sandy McKellan's face, arising unbidden and unbound before my eyes. It goaded me, waves of regret, of guilt, crashing against my mind in a tidal wave of self-loathing.

My vision flickered, and warped. Somewhere, Lord Voldemort was screaming too, vomiting blood on the floor of his throne room, his Death Eaters cringing in terror.

The words from Herpo's Grimoire floated back to me. Warning me of that great poison, the terrible doom of my kind lest we ever let it take hold: Remorse.

:-:-:-:-:

A/N: It's hard to believe it's been a full year since I started this fic. Thank you all so much for your feedback and support, I never expected to get such good responses from my first piece of fanfiction. Looking forward to what the future holds for this story, and what comes next when it's done.

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