Voldemort sighed. "A drink, Wormtail," he said, and sneered menacingly, "Or
else Wormtail a drink. Right, Nagini?"
Voldemort heard the oh-so-familiar voice of his beloved snake. "Yes, master." Voldemort smiled cruelly. As always, the s' in "yes" and "master" were drawn out, creating a terribly dramatic effect...
"Yes, sir. Right now, sir," Wormtail stuttered and hastily kissed the hem of Voldemort's robe. Voldemort snickered. Yes, he was evil, but lived, or existed, still, quite a boring life. Harassing his "subjects" was a favorite pastime of his – after all, the only things he did were exactly that, plus a few killings here and there, recruiting followers, and of course, trying to rid of Harry Potter. Voldemort sniffed. That boy always got out of it. But Voldemort smiled a grimace. He had figured out how to get to Potter. With the death of Black, Harry was deterring slowly.
"H-h-here is your d-d-drink." Voldemort was awoken of his dreamlike trance and snapped back to his old, murderous self. Wormtail held out a jewel- studded wineglass filled with warm snake's milk.
"Yes," Voldemort sneered, grabbing the glass and nearly spilling the contents on his own midnight black cloak. "You may leave."
As soon as dirty, pathetic Wormtail left the room Voldemort relaxed as much as one can while being the darkest wizard in the room. He frowned. He was now able to recall the memory... ...Of his sudden launch into darkness as a boy.
*~* Flashback
I love her. I love her. I LOVE her! Riddle thought in History of Magic one sunny morning. I LOVE MYRTLE!
Tom looked around, embarrassed, as if someone had actually heard. No one had, luckily – they were all asleep, lulled by the monotone drone of Professor Binns' voice. Though Tom had many friends, Myrtle was nobody, rejected. He hadn't planned to fall in love. After all, nobody knew he could.
At the end of class, Tom mustered up his strength and walked up to Myrtle. Sure, eyes were glancing, shocked. Sure, she wasn't the prettiest. So what?
"Will y- I mean, will you, maybe, well you don't have, to, but I would like y- What I mean to say is..." "I love you, will you go out with me?" Myrtle looked about to cry. "That's not funny, no!" Tom blushed. Inside, he was angry. No one rejected Tom! He had an idea – an idea that would make him never feel again.
*~* End Flashback
From then on, he was Lord Voldemort the killer. Myrtle never would truly know what she had done.
Voldemort heard the oh-so-familiar voice of his beloved snake. "Yes, master." Voldemort smiled cruelly. As always, the s' in "yes" and "master" were drawn out, creating a terribly dramatic effect...
"Yes, sir. Right now, sir," Wormtail stuttered and hastily kissed the hem of Voldemort's robe. Voldemort snickered. Yes, he was evil, but lived, or existed, still, quite a boring life. Harassing his "subjects" was a favorite pastime of his – after all, the only things he did were exactly that, plus a few killings here and there, recruiting followers, and of course, trying to rid of Harry Potter. Voldemort sniffed. That boy always got out of it. But Voldemort smiled a grimace. He had figured out how to get to Potter. With the death of Black, Harry was deterring slowly.
"H-h-here is your d-d-drink." Voldemort was awoken of his dreamlike trance and snapped back to his old, murderous self. Wormtail held out a jewel- studded wineglass filled with warm snake's milk.
"Yes," Voldemort sneered, grabbing the glass and nearly spilling the contents on his own midnight black cloak. "You may leave."
As soon as dirty, pathetic Wormtail left the room Voldemort relaxed as much as one can while being the darkest wizard in the room. He frowned. He was now able to recall the memory... ...Of his sudden launch into darkness as a boy.
*~* Flashback
I love her. I love her. I LOVE her! Riddle thought in History of Magic one sunny morning. I LOVE MYRTLE!
Tom looked around, embarrassed, as if someone had actually heard. No one had, luckily – they were all asleep, lulled by the monotone drone of Professor Binns' voice. Though Tom had many friends, Myrtle was nobody, rejected. He hadn't planned to fall in love. After all, nobody knew he could.
At the end of class, Tom mustered up his strength and walked up to Myrtle. Sure, eyes were glancing, shocked. Sure, she wasn't the prettiest. So what?
"Will y- I mean, will you, maybe, well you don't have, to, but I would like y- What I mean to say is..." "I love you, will you go out with me?" Myrtle looked about to cry. "That's not funny, no!" Tom blushed. Inside, he was angry. No one rejected Tom! He had an idea – an idea that would make him never feel again.
*~* End Flashback
From then on, he was Lord Voldemort the killer. Myrtle never would truly know what she had done.
