Thomas Marvolo, or Lord Voldemort as he was now, gave a shiver and
sat up. His entire body had gone cold again. He stumbled weakly out of bed,
yanking his blanket out and wrapping himself in it securely. His hair,
which had had grown long from the day his father died had returned with his
body, and it now hung around him, tangled from his unrestful slumber.
Outside the rain whipped onto his windows, and the room was cold. But that
was not the reason he trembled, not even close. He paced his room, his bare
feet soaking up the chill from the floor. His mind wandered, but it always
came back to him. Voldemort ran his hand over a full leanth mirror, and on
a whim dropped the blanket, leaning forward to inspect himself. He was not
a large man and thanks to his self-imersment in the dark arts, his body was
frozen in the age nineteen. He was slender, pale and in am light,
effeminate. He did not appear intimidating until you looked deep into his
eyes and saw...
And saw what? That he was soulless? Voldemort turned away at this thought. but yet he knew it was true... he had no real soul. but that was not the result of any spell, any potion... any sin. he had lost his human soul on night, a night that his body had been... hot. He had been on fire... and he had been with him, his body burning under his fingers, and his mouth had been firm on his own. TThen it had happenedm under the kiss his body went cold, and something passed between them, then he had crumpled to the bed, his eyes wide and glazed. Severus had shaken him, yelled to him and then had dropped him, knowing what had happened. Then he cried. The tears had been so cold on Voldemort's body that he had sat up. He felt a little strange... but alive... and as sane as he had ever been. Severus had gathered him, and they spent the rest of the night clutching each other.
They both had known that a love between a human (human? was he ever actually human?) and a half-dementor may someday end that way... but it hadn't ended... the loss of a soul had not affected Voldemort as deeply as one might expect. he was still able to feel, to love and able to be hurt. but the main diffrence was the feeling of streanth... never agian did he fear anyone. And that loss of fear caused him to lead a rebellation aganst the muggles... and the mudbloods. he had moved carefully at first, severus had helped him choose those who would be forever faithful... Lucius Malfoy had been the first. The two had been so close in school, and Lucius had his own grudge aganst those who were not pure. he had come of his own will... along with his two best friends, who were about as smart as a dog... but fierce in their loyalties. A few more and Voldemort was ready to tell these few the secret that no one in the ministrey ever guessed.... that should he ever fall... and he knew that someday he might... that they were to assume the innocent's position, and serve their cause in secret.
This was an important thing... because he knew that now his soul rested in Severus, he was immortal... as long as Severus lived. And love was truely the greatest preservation. So if they could lay low... he could live again... And as he died in the Potter's house... in search of the child that he had lost with Severus... he had been sure that Severus, who after Voldemort became more comfortable alone had lain low to protect their son, would soon bring him back... then he hadn't.
That had hurt voldemort more than anything... and after years he thought his love had turned to hate.... but it hadn't... he still loved Severus dearly and now...standing naked and cold, he realized it. this cut into him like a knife, and sinking down onto his knees, he started to freely cry.
And saw what? That he was soulless? Voldemort turned away at this thought. but yet he knew it was true... he had no real soul. but that was not the result of any spell, any potion... any sin. he had lost his human soul on night, a night that his body had been... hot. He had been on fire... and he had been with him, his body burning under his fingers, and his mouth had been firm on his own. TThen it had happenedm under the kiss his body went cold, and something passed between them, then he had crumpled to the bed, his eyes wide and glazed. Severus had shaken him, yelled to him and then had dropped him, knowing what had happened. Then he cried. The tears had been so cold on Voldemort's body that he had sat up. He felt a little strange... but alive... and as sane as he had ever been. Severus had gathered him, and they spent the rest of the night clutching each other.
They both had known that a love between a human (human? was he ever actually human?) and a half-dementor may someday end that way... but it hadn't ended... the loss of a soul had not affected Voldemort as deeply as one might expect. he was still able to feel, to love and able to be hurt. but the main diffrence was the feeling of streanth... never agian did he fear anyone. And that loss of fear caused him to lead a rebellation aganst the muggles... and the mudbloods. he had moved carefully at first, severus had helped him choose those who would be forever faithful... Lucius Malfoy had been the first. The two had been so close in school, and Lucius had his own grudge aganst those who were not pure. he had come of his own will... along with his two best friends, who were about as smart as a dog... but fierce in their loyalties. A few more and Voldemort was ready to tell these few the secret that no one in the ministrey ever guessed.... that should he ever fall... and he knew that someday he might... that they were to assume the innocent's position, and serve their cause in secret.
This was an important thing... because he knew that now his soul rested in Severus, he was immortal... as long as Severus lived. And love was truely the greatest preservation. So if they could lay low... he could live again... And as he died in the Potter's house... in search of the child that he had lost with Severus... he had been sure that Severus, who after Voldemort became more comfortable alone had lain low to protect their son, would soon bring him back... then he hadn't.
That had hurt voldemort more than anything... and after years he thought his love had turned to hate.... but it hadn't... he still loved Severus dearly and now...standing naked and cold, he realized it. this cut into him like a knife, and sinking down onto his knees, he started to freely cry.
