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Getting Bella to let him go had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He'd cleaned up, changed his shirt and was now standing outside the door that led to the library and Voldemort's chamber. It only took him a second to get the door open and step inside. He made his way straight past the library to realized that the door was closed. He knocked once, twice, three times but Voldemort didn't open up. He hadn't come here to give up and he just knew that Voldemort was in there. He banged on the door with his knuckles until they started to hurt,

"I'm not leaving here until you come out."

He picked up a book on thestrals from the library, settled down on the floor, leaned back against the door and banged on the door once again just to remind Voldemort that he was here before starting the book.

He spent hours on the cold, marble floor but he was obstinate when he wanted to be. He had banged on the door after every ten minutes regularly and finished his book on thestrals before starting another one on Phoenixes. That was what that bird he'd seen in the forest had been called, a Phoenix…He was utterly engrossed in the book when the door opened and Harry fell backwards and looked up into Voldemort's furious gaze. He didn't even have the chance to blink before Voldemort had pulled him up to his feet and had him pinned against the nearest wall.

Harry stared defiantly into rage filed crimson eyes and Voldemort struck him hard across the face,

"Did I not make it abundantly clear to Bella that I shall kill you if I see you again?"

Harry was about to reply when Voldemort backhanded him,

"Do not open your mouth or utter a single word if you value your life."

Harry couldn't help but grin at that,

"I don't value my life and I won't die before I say what needs to be said. You're not a bad person, Tom. You did the right thing…. you did the right thing when you killed Albus. You did the right thing but what happened to you wasn't right. It wasn't right. You didn't deserve it…"

Voldemort clamped a hand down over his mouth and whispered,

"Not a word more…I shall have to silence you permanently."

Voldemort conjured a knife and held it over his throat as he grinned wickedly,

"Look into my eyes. I wish to see the life drain out of them."

The knife sat precariously on his skin, soft enough to not pierce his neck, hard enough to enforce the intended message. The harsh metal should have been cold and raw against his bare skin, but his numb body could not feel anything. His throat and heart held in a silver grasp, and all he could do was stare defiantly at the crimson eyes that belonged to the man who held the blade and saw a terrifying coldness he had never seen before. The snake grew larger around his throat and the darkness grew impossibly darker. Harry saw no trace of the innocent boy…no trace of Tom…no hope…Tears flowed from his eyes as despair welled in his heart.

Trembling, he tipped his chin up into the sharpened edge, tempting him to end his anguish, half hoping he would. A small stream of blood trickled from the feeble cut he could not feel. Voldemort didn't flinch or remove his eyes from his, a cruel smile stretched out across his gaunt features. Harry's bruised and broken heart shifted at the sight of his merciless gaze, his legs almost failing beneath him. Voldemort's steadfast grip on the polished weapon shifted, causing more crimson liquid to flow from the raw wound he had inflicted. A choked sob escaped Harry's lips and was muffled by Voldemort's hand still clamped tight over his mouth. Voldemort's grinned widened and he tilted his head as he asked,

"You do not wish to die? Is that what the tears are for?"

Harry wanted to shake his head, but the knife was already digging into his skin and all his survival instincts kicked in and forced him to remain still. Despite his strong wish to die, his body absolutely refused to go along with that. Voldemort chuckled darkly, and Harry turned his gaze away from him to look at the mammoth of the snake. It was large enough to swallow him whole and Harry closed his eyes as the sight of it made him shiver involuntarily,

"Open your eyes."

The knife dug deeper and Harry opened his eyes to look into Voldemort's crimson one's imploring him with his gaze to end it. He was tired…so tired of this endless cycle of hope and despair. His heart couldn't take any more of it. Voldemort grinned viciously and moved the blade another inch and Harry saw how much pleasure he took in his torment. Harry could feel his life flowing down his skin in tiny rivulets, but his gaze remained fixated on Voldemort's. His heart beat a steady rhythm in his chest and he relaxed against the wall as everything grew dim and foggy. His knees were about ready to give out but Voldemort kept him pinned against the wall with his body. When he spoke, Harry detected an undertone of pain in it,

"Do you feel it, Harry?"

Voldemort vanished the blade and Harry noticed that he was wearing leather gloves as he held him up. How curious…

"Do you feel your life slipping away?"

Harry's head lolled to the side and he would have replied if Voldemort would just remove his hand from his mouth. Voldemort turned his head back, making him face him. Harry had to blink to bring Voldemort's crimson eyes into focus and he saw how ashen he looked. It almost looked as if it wasn't his life that was draining out but Voldemort's. But the pleasure in those crimson eyes was unmistakeable. The image was so contradictory that Harry's head spun. Why did Voldemort look like he was in pain when he was obviously enjoying his death? What was happening? His eyelids fluttered close and Voldemort laughed maniacally as he patted him on the cheek,

"Harry…Open your eyes…let me see you off."

Harry forced his eyes open and held Voldemort's gaze again. Voldemort finally pulled away his hand from his mouth and spoke,

"Any last words?"

Harry shook his head. No words would ever be enough to bring Tom back. He had lost. He was truly and utterly defeated. His breaths hitched in his throat and he rasped out,

"Bye, Tom."