Chapter Three: The Forest
Voldemort looked from his dead luetenent, to the Death Eaters cowering behind the trees. He was still angry that his kill had been taken from him, and he shot curses at the Death Eaters. Those he hit fell to the ground, writhing and screaming in pain. He looked back to the Potter's body, but gasped when he saw it was nolonger lieing there.
"Where is he!" Voldemort shouted, and he rounded on the half-giant, Hagrid. He was still bound to the tree. "What did you do with the body of the boy!" He shouted unreasonably at him. He shouted in rage, and cruiciated the beast of a man. The giant blood in him was not enough to shrug off a powerful spell as that one, and Hagrid howled in pain.
"Naughty, naughty," teased a voice from the edge of the trees. Voldemort looked around, and spotted Harry, grinning lightly. "No!" he screamed, and took his wand from Hagrid, aiming it at the boy. With a cassual flick, Harry disarmed the Dark Lord, and caught his wand as it flew through the air. Voldemort was stunned into silence.
"How!" howled Voldemort, no wandless. He had the ability to use magic without a wand, but he could not kill or torture with out it. Harry's grin stretched wider. "I should thank dear Lestrange. Pity it doesn't look like she's in the talking mood." He nodded at the corpse of the departed Bellatrix. Harry laughed quietly. Voldemort took on a look of utter confusion. Was the boy insane?
"No," said Harry in a lazy, drawling voice. "I should be thanking you for not attacking first. Otherwise, I would still be traped." Voldemort's confusion increased. "I should explain, shouldn't I?" asked Harry. Just then, a masked Death Eater poked his head out from behind his tree, and was blasted of his feet by Harry. "Such nosey fellows you hang around with these days."
Voldemort started towards harry, as if to strangle him. He was imobalized at once and stood rooted to the spot. "You really should listen," said Harry. "You see, when you attacked me the first time," Harry said, seeming to stumble on the word 'me.' "You created another Horcrux without knowing. Harry Potter. Had you killed me, you would have killed your own Hrocrux, and you'dve been shit out of luck, I'm afraid to say."
Realization dawned on Voldemort's face. "You mean to say," he started, searching Harry's face. His eyes caught something they had missed before. Harry's eyes were red, and slitted like a cat's. "That you are me?" he asked, shocked. "Catch on quick, don't you?" Harry shot back with a smirk. Voldemort looked furious. "You will not talk to me in that way!" he growled.
"That's really my chioce," said Harry, simply. "Honestly, it would be easier to weed out the filth with you, but I can just as easily go it alone." He rasied his wand, Voldemort's stuck in his pocket. Voldemort looked furious once more, but muttered "Fine." and Harry undid the spell keeping him locked in place. "Hogwarts?" asked Harry. "Hogwarts," growled Voldemort. "And I want my wand back."