The Dark Lord
It was painfully cold and the stars were dead.
I had always preferred the cold, however, and the absence of the stars was well made up for by the presence of a glorious full moon. Peter would be dealing with that any minute now. Rodolphus was behind the headstone at my back, and Bella was off to my right. Malfoy and the rest of the lot down at his level were swarming the base of the hill. He didn't know it, but I could sense Severus lingering behind a headstone near Bella. His worthless mind revealed that he was waiting for McGonagall. Yes, the Potter boy would have told her we were here. Or perhaps the giant oaf. It certainly wasn't the crazy old Auror or the know-it-all Mudblood, I had seen to that.
Next on the list of things to 'see to' would be Potter, the fool dancing around in front of me. He was employing his usual tactic, ducking behind headstones. The boy had always shown a tendency to rely on the dead. I saw him stand a bit too high and aimed a painful curse at the back of his head. He ducked. He and his father had been excellent Quidditch players. Those instincts, however, would not save him from what I had in store. I laughed a little more, not really to goad him but because something was actually entertaining me. The stupid boy was dodging curses behind headstones while I reminisced about the good old days. Potter always seemed the think he had something I did not. Well, whatever that was, it wasn't important. Anyhow, it would probably prove his undoing. I, on the other hand, had time. Time to laugh. It seemed to be irritating him… Oh, well! Potter took a break from ducking curse-Bludgers and swung around to explain to me, in simple terms, that I had killed his parents. I told him, yes, I knew that, and then got back to business. He seemed to think he could make me feel guilt. Fool. People like him were so annoyingly predictable. Another headstone cracked down the middle.
I gave Potter the opportunity the scuttle over to the next marker and took the time to signal Rodolphus. The purple sparks had barely faded when I heard the werewolf groan as Peter taunted him. At least the rat and his stupid past could be of use to me once more. We had brought the wolf here and tortured him thoroughly, then set him aside for later. As I ticked off these memories and shot curses at random headstones, I was vaguely reminded of Potion Brewing. Let simmer for twenty minutes over high flame. Set aside. Add aconite after two hours… I laughed again.
I was drawn back to my idle reality when Potter stopped squirming and darting about. I had been busy toying with the idea of removing his legs when he had halted in mid-dash and looked up with his bloody face. There was a mysterious ball of fire flashing in and out of existence above us. After I allowed us each time to marvel at this particular fact, I resumed shooting curses at Potter. He, of course, was forced to give up staring lovingly at the fireball and had to continue along his flight to the next headstone. They were definitely thinning…
Then the fire-ball was gone. There was no real sound to warn us of this, but it bowed out to the moon just as I heard Peter smash through the wall of the mausoleum. Good, I thought. The word seemed to echo in my mind, bouncing around, reflecting on all my other thoughts. I lifted my hand in a sign calling for a halt. It was extremely painful, burning, screaming. I turned to look at it, but it was just as it always was, black sleeve and thin fingers, held up and asking Potter to stop running. Where was my wand? It was lying innocently a little ways away from my feet. I bent to pick it up. After a moment I realized that I was still standing perfectly upright, winning some very peculiar glances from the Potter boy, who still hadn't ducked for cover. I tried again to fetch my wand, but as I stared it seemed only to move farther away. I was straight upright, in spite of my efforts to retrieve the offending wand.
That was when I felt him. Him. The frustration was exploding in me, racing through my veins and seeping from my skin. I opened my mouth to scream.
"Stay here Harry," he commanded in my voice, which sounded quite awkward when used so gently.
My mind was screaming at him, but even as I rained filthy little blows down on him, I felt myself sinking backward, losing ground. He pressed around within me and I blinked.
This is my art. This is my body. This is my hour…
He didn't answer me. I choked.
The pain was immeasurable. I was failing.
I was winning.
I didn't answer him, and he choked. His mind slid away, scratching my own, fighting me. But I proved victorious. Every so often his desires would surface, but I batted them away like stray flies. I held up his hand, ignoring the lighting bursting in our arm.
"Harry," he said, I said for him, "Stay here, Harry. I am calling the dementors. Let them come, Harry, please."
Harry looked at the Dark Lord very strangely then, obviously startled by the use of his first name, and by the sincerity of the voice I sent through his lips. I will make you immortal, Harry. I felt the Dark Lord's confusion, which could only mean he did not know. No, the Dark Lord had never known the prophecy. I did not bother to hide it from his mind now- he would not have time to use what he discovered. And either must die at the hand of the other… His rage ran wild in our body, heightening our pain as it coursed through his overcrowded veins, where I was lurking.
He alone can kill you, Harry. He alone, so long as his body endures. And his body will endure. I will make you immortal, Harry.
The dementors were coming now, coming to my signal. Harry gaped at the Dark Lord, allowing the forms of the dementors to invade only the corners of his mind. He shut them out, but did not move for his wand. The Dark Lord summoned it with my power, and we held it. I could feel my beautiful bird's feather within it, and it was still warm from Harry's touch. He slid to his knees, and began to crawl. The dementors were only a few meters away now, the Dark Lord's thoughts clanging in our head. The horrors I alone among the living knew in him were echoing randomly and dimly in his mind, and I stood watching. They were memories he had tried to shed with his innocence in Transylvania, after leaving school. They had returned with him. I suppressed my pity, knowing full well that the pain would be unbearable, would drive him from his own body. The Dark Lord did not know pity, and I needed his soul to remain. I would leave before it happened, before it was too late. And if not? I will make you immortal, Harry.
They were here now. I turned to face them. Five dementors forming a half-ring about me. The Dark-Lord's thoughts were becoming very boisterous. I was letting him return, as I would have to leave him before the Kiss, at the moment when it was too late. Severus would protect Minerva- I had told him to bring her back to our school with him. He was waiting for the end. I would bring Harry back with me, make him understand. I will make you immortal, Harry. The Dark Lord was screaming, I let the sound leave the mouth which I had been borrowing, but no one heard it. The dementors swallowed it. I felt Harry drawing nearer, and as the nearest dementor stretched a hand toward the Dark Lord's neck, I turned his body to face the boy. We both saw that Harry had stood up now, a wand between his fingers, far too long to be his own. The Dark Lord recognized it, and I recognized his emotions. I knew Harry had practiced the curse, thinking he would need it. I fought my way back into the Dark Lord, deeper, deeper, needing to tell Harry no, no, to wait. Wait Harry. It's me. I will make you immortal Harry. Let his body be…I saw it in his eyes, saw it in his face. The anger was etched into his mouth, the hatred, the horror. He was ready. I tried to tell myself that he wouldn't do it, couldn't do it, that the curse would fail.
And either must die at the hand of the other…
"Avada Kedavra"
And time froze as the world ended.
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~*~ A/N- This was a fun one to write… but anyhow, that was Dumbledore's plan. It was pretty obscure, so let me sum up- He came as the phoenix, he possessed the Dark Lord, he called the dementors… the plan? 1. Possess the Dark Lord. 2. Incapacitate the Dark Lord. 3. Do NOT kill the Dark Lord. tadAAAAH! I will make you immortal, Harry… Harry, being his usual self-absorbed self decided to take the necessary action… BOOM! And part two, AN INSTANT AND WHAT COMES AFTER starts with The Werewolf next chapter… Much Love! ~*~