Part Two: They Come and Go.

Years dragged by slowly as I kept a careful eye on Voldemort's activities. From a distance, I observed his powers grow and his influence spread farther than I could have imagined. He had managed to cast the world back into the dark times with which I was familiar. I had constant visions of my past, which haunted my dreams, both waking and sleeping. More than once he had attempted to call me, and more than once I refused to answer. But inside, I was proud of his accomplishments. He had managed to create six out of his seven horcruxes and his appearance was showing it. He had lost many of his human characteristics and closer resembled that of a snake. As his soul had been ripped apart, so too had his eyes. They were discoloured and had turned a violet colour, a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin. I couldn't help but smile, knowing that even I hadn't appeared so inhuman when I made my seventh. The world was terrified of him, and he was in heaven. There were only two things his dark heart and twisted, disintegrated soul still desired. The death of Dumbledore for one, and for me to join with him and make my presence known to the rest of the world. Many families had perished at his hands when they refused to join him and he was currently hunting down another powerful family who, like so many others, were too proud to give in. The Potter's were fools to believe they could defy Voldemort and his growing power. I had heard tonight was the night he was going to finish them, since one of their friends, a snivelling pathetic creature, Peter Pettigrew, had betrayed them. When I found Voldemort pounding on the doors to my castle, I was most surprised and annoyed with myself for not realising he was so close. Hesitantly, I allowed him entry and sat before the fire as he paced before me.

"I have come to ask you one final time, will you give me your dark gift and help me rule the world as you once did so many years ago?" His straightforwardness surprised me, which had probably been the point.

"If you believe asking me so simply will prove your worth, you are wrong."

"How do I prove my worth to you?" He snarled, his face flushing with anger.

"That is something you must figure out on your own." I smiled coyly, patronizing him.

"There is nothing I could do that would impress you!" Defeated, he collapsed into the chair opposite me.

"No, you are not capable of impressing me." I sneered. "But this is not about impressing me, it's about proving you have the self-control to handle such power. Since you clearly have no self-control, there is no way you would be able to handle anything of this magnitude." I paused, smiling coldly. "Now go, kill all the people you want. Destroy the Potter's and their child, but that will prove nothing, not to me, and not to the rest of the world."

"It proves I have power! Power they should fear!" He yelled, jumping to his feet.

"It proves nothing of the sort. Not much has ever been won by repression and terror. Now leave me, and do not think to ask me again." I watched as he stormed from my presence and disaparated in the clearing outside. I breathed easy, hoping he would not do anything foolish. Not trusting his anger, I followed him to the Potter's house and watched as the dark house flashed green twice. I turned to leave as the third one lit up the dark windows, but paused just as the house was suddenly blown apart. I felt Voldemort's presence vanish from my senses. Curiously I examined the remains of the house and found the Potter child, still alive. Aware that the area would soon be surrounded by people, I quickly vanished into the darkness, leaving the child where he was. Voldemort was nowhere to be seen, neither was his presence. I could not understand it until I recalled the scar on the child's head. The boy had been hit by the curse, but it bounced off. I scowled, knowing that in his anger, Voldemort had neglected to notice the fact that one of his parents, or even both, must have died trying to save the child's life. The fool hadn't realized that such a sacrifice would protect the child from his harm. I returned to the castle, disappointed in Voldemort. He should have known better. I was right to deny him vampire blood; he would never be able to control himself. I laughed softly, imagining whatever was left of his soul wandering around, broken and defeated. He'll be able to possess people and animals for short periods of time, but unless he finds someone to attach his soul to his own body, he would remain nothing more than a displaced spirit. He deserves to fade into eternity.

The word of Voldemort's demise travelled quickly, and the Potter child became an overnight celebrity. I cannot help but feel sorry for the child; he will never know how he had done it. How one small child had managed to supposedly destroy the most powerful dark wizard in the world all before he could speak. Even though I almost missed shadowing Voldemort to make sure he was all right, I did not miss the annoying emotions that he continued to stir deep within my soul every time he tried to reach me. But I knew that he was not defeated, not while his six horcruxes were still safe. I remained reclusive, ignoring the calls of the few witches and wizards who were attempting to hunt me down. That was, until I caught scent of the one wizard Voldemort wanted dead at all costs. Dumbledore. Curious, I could not help but lure him closer to my home and assist him in finding me. I allowed him to walk into my castle, sensing his present the whole time and only watched him silently with emotionless eyes as he came in cautiously and sat opposite me. I admired his bravery, it was written in many books that I had killed men for much less than trespassing.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" He asked politely. I motioned for him to continue, arguing with myself over the purpose of his visit. He lit his pipe and I watched as he inhaled deeply. He was nervous; I could tell by the way his teeth gripped the pipe.

"I am here, my dearest Lady, to ask you about Voldemort." He paused, watching me over his half-moon spectacles. I cocked my head, waiting for him to continue. "I would like to know if he was with you for a length of time a few years ago, four to be precise."

"You must be keen to know, to ask me like this."

"I'm sorry?"

"Now now, Dumbledore, I am not patient, if you ask me the wrong question, then you will get the wrong answer. I believe you have done your research."

"I have."

"I had expected no less from you, Dumbledore. Yes, Voldemort was with me for a length of time, but that is not the real reason you are asking."

"I have heard… rumours, of what you have done, what you are capable of."

"I'm sure you have." My lips twisted into a sneer.

"May I ask what the two of you did?"

"No, you may not." Dumbledore seemed taken aback. I rose and stood before the fire, staring into the flickering flames.

"What did he ask of you four years ago?"

"To train him."

"What did you say?"

"No." Dumbledore was confused, but he hid it well. He didn't ask the right question. I had said no to Voldemort at first, believing him too impatient and insolent to be instructed. His persistence had amused me and eventually I agreed, temporarily. If he had pushed my limits too far, I had planned to kill him. Dumbledore's eyes were on my back and I sighed before turning.

"If you are looking for Voldemort, I have no allegiance to him. He may be my distant relative, but I really don't care much for him. He was rather amusing for a while." I shrugged, "Nor do I know or care where he is or if he is even still alive." I watched Dumbledore's eyes carefully, but he gave nothing away. "You amuse me Dumbledore, stay the night, if you wish. You will find a guest room second door on your left, straight up the stairs. Doors are locked in this house for a reason and they will remain so. Cross me and you will not escape this place alive." I smiled, leaving the room. I spent the remainder of the night in my room, my mind following Dumbledore as he explored the castle. He found most of the doors locked, and true to his word, he moved on quickly. Finding little worthwhile, he retreated to his room and remained there until dawn. Having not slept in months, I drifted into a deep sleep.

Time passes quickly, ignoring me as it has always done. Dumbledore remained with me for several days, trying to avoid a discussion involving Voldemort. Seemingly, Dumbledore left with high spirits, having discovered whatever it was he had wanted. He had thanked me for my hospitality,

"Would you ever consider allowing me to return the favour at Hogwarts?" He asked heartily. The offer surprised me and I hesitated before shaking my head,

"It would be unwise, the students and their parents would not like the thought of a vampire at the school. I appreciate your offer, but I must decline. Feel free to visit anytime you please." We had parted on good terms and I couldn't help but respect the man who treated me with the same respect and awe I deserved. He had also mentioned the Potter's child, Harry, many times, although why I could not fathom. The boy was of no interest to me.

"I feel for the boy, it will be hard for him to understand what took place that night." Dumbledore sighed sorrowfully.

"How long until he attends Hogwarts?"

"When he is eleven."

"He has a while to wait. Where is he now."

"Staying with his muggle Aunt and Uncle and their son."

"Hmmm."

"He is protected there, at least until he comes of age."

"Or until Voldemort finds a way to restore himself." I replied smugly, doubting the possibility. Dumbledore cast me a curious glance. "Do not look at me so. You know very well that he is not dead."

"You are right."

"Of course I am." I laughed coldly. "You don't get to be my age and not tell what a person is thinking, regardless of their skills in occulmency."

"But is it possible he could come back?"

"What does your mind tell you, Albus? Anything is possible with that man, he is driven enough."

"Would you survive a powerful unforgivable curse?" He asked.

"Now I see why you really came!" I cried, a smile spreading across my lips. "You wonder if I turned him. There are many other ways to escape death. I found most of them. Do not assume he was turned to a creature of darkness like myself. You should know me better! I do not share power." I laughed sarcastically. "And you would do wise not to assume Voldemort sought me out for the most obvious reason. My secrets are exactly that. Few are worthy of the knowledge." Dumbledore remained quiet for the rest of the night, and I knew he was deep in thought, trying to understand why Voldemort was still alive. There were many reasons why I didn't tell him, mainly because he did not ask outright if I had taught him the art of horcruxes, or perhaps he had dismissed that as a myth, especially since my own appearance disproved it. Little did they all know. I personally had doubts that Voldemort had the strength to pull himself back into power. Few knew of his horcruxes and I daresay his own followers believed him to be dead. If he had tried to call me, I had not heard. He probably did not have the strength for it anyway. If he was lucky, one of his minions may find him and figure out a way to resurrect him.

I haunted the shadows of time for a few more years until I heard rumours of Voldemort's whereabouts. I never searched for him. He deserved to suffer for his arrogance. The first came from Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts. I had seen Dumbledore occasionally before the event when, with the help of a brainwashed Professor he had attempted to steal the Philosopher's Stone. What I found the most amusing was that this simple child managed to foil him yet again, and this time he was conscious of it. Dumbledore sought me out shortly after and asked what I knew,

"I had sensed Voldemort's growing presence at Hogwarts, but that did not surprise me. The fact this boy intervened and survived is what surprises me."

"Yes, I'd say Voldemort still hasn't realised the protection on Harry due to his mother's self sacrifice for her son."

"The fool." I laughed softly. "Voldemort never could see beyond his own personal desires."

"I would like to ask you to come to Hogwarts. Come teach Defence Against the Dark Arts." I raised an eyebrow at his proposal.

"No."

"Will you not think about it?"

"No." I paused, studying him closer. "I will not be put in that position; I have no alliance to neither you nor Voldemort. I have passed from this world, I live now only to wait until the end."

Dumbledore asked again after the second attack the following year with the diary. Although Dumbledore had not realised it at the time, but the diary had been one of Voldemort's horcruxes. Still I refused and I contentedly sat back and watched Dumbledore carefully as he dealt with the trouble during Harry Potter's third year. I was amused when Dumbledore informed me that the man, Peter Pettigrew escaped. I smirked at the memory of his betrayal of the Potter's in the first place. The thought occurred to me that if anyone would hunt down Voldemort, it would be this Pettigrew man who no longer had anything better to do in life. My instincts served me well, for I watched the inevitable. The Triwizard Cup was a disaster in my eyes. Several times Dumbledore sought my assistance, and several times I refused to become involved. The last time Dumbledore came to me, was with the confirmation that Voldemort had indeed risen again and that Harry had, yet again, escaped his wrath. He watched my reaction carefully, but I showed nothing. The news did not surprise me; I had felt his call the moment he was reunited with his body. I had shrugged, uncaring and bid him farewell. That was the last time I had seen him.

Voldemort wasted no time in searching for me. I allowed him to come to my castle, sensing his urgency. It was the first time I had laid eyes on him in fourteen years and wasted no time in mocking his many defeats.

"I am curious, how is it a boy has managed to defeat you four times now?" I smiled coldly as he entered the room where I sat before a flickering fire.

"Is that the greeting I get after fourteen years? Your scorn?" He frowned. I studied him carefully, noticing how his tone had changed.

"You have changed." I said, standing to greet him properly.

"You have not." He smiled, slightly warmer. He lifted my hand to his lips and with his touch sent me directly into his memory of the night he came back. The scene unfolded before me and I watched, amused at the mistakes Voldemort had made. Releasing me, I glared at him,

"You are a fool."

"My teacher, my mentor, what am I doing wrong?" He begged longingly.

"The boy shares the same type wand as you, and what have I told you?"

"Not to depend on it." He sighed.

"Yet you still do! The power is within you, you don't need a piece of wood to use it, it just helps to control and centre that power." I snarled, snatching his wand from his pocket. To his horror, I snapped it and tossed it into the fire. A cloud of purple smoke wafted from the burning wood as Voldemort watched helplessly. I could feel his anger rising.

"Now you have a chance to kill the boy." I said, turning my back to him and leaving the room. He hurried to catch up with me as I ascended the stairs. "And the boy managed to take control of the beam because he has a better focus and as much, if not more determination than you. Control yourself first, and then you can control those around you. You cannot always depend on fear. The boy does not have enough fear in him for you to manipulate." I turned to him at the top of the stairs, "I trust you remember the rules of the house?"

"I do." He whispered, deep in thought.

"Then see that they are obeyed."