Disclaimer: My name is still not J.K. Rowling, if that helps.

Warning: Harry having a hissy fit…

A/N: OMG is this a new chapter?? XD Yes, indeed it is. I had some of this chapter written already from way back in June (yea, it's been that long, sorry!!) and had a sudden burst of writing inspiration yesterday. I even typed it up for you!! Hehe Yes, I know I'm a horrible updater, but at least here's a new chapter. And we finally get to my favorite part, Harry's hissy fit and Voldie's breakdown!! Enjoy!! :D

---

Harry was cruelly amused to see Voldemort flinch slightly as he stepped into view. His good humor, however, immediately faded as he again noticed the many bodies on the ground.

The Dark Lord opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off. "I will not let you regain power," he said, sounding more confident than he felt. "I will defeat you again." He was surprised when instead of the condescending laugh he had expected, Voldemort bowed his head slightly, though not taking his eyes of him.

"I have no intention of rising to power again," the Dark Lord said quietly, no trace of sarcasm or threat in his voice.

Harry started, greatly taken aback. How could Voldemort, the most feared Dark Lord ever, be resurrected and not want to return to power? This had to be some sort of trick to put him off guard, he decided.

"Of course you don't, my lord," he retorted, sneering. "Because after a few decades of terror, death, and destruction all you're going to want to do when you're resurrected is settle down with a family in a cottage by the sea." The last part came out in a hiss, Harry's entire body seething with barely controlled rage.

Voldemort blinked as magic swirled about the lobby, whipping around both their robes. He found himself grudgingly impressed as the level of magic rose, seeming to press in on him from all sides.

He struggled for something to say that would placate the enraged man, he wasn't sure if he could win in a head on fight in his currently weakened state. His pride would not allow him to beg, so there was really only one thing he could do. He only hoped the boy- no, young man- who had killed him once before would not act rashly and do so again. He did not want to die before making right with the world.

"Potter," he began as calmly as he could, "I'm going to put my wand down and my hands up. I'm not going to hurt you or anyone else. I just want to talk."

Slowly, so as not to startle the other man, he lay his wand down, kicking it a little ways away. As he straightened, he put his hands up, fingers spread. "See? No danger. Can we talk now?" he asked, looking closely for any sign that he was in danger.

Harry was breathing hard, his anger slowly fading, and with it the swirling magic. He suddenly felt tired, as if he had just run a marathon. Sighing slightly, he struggled to compose himself. I wouldn't do to look weak in front of Voldemort.

Opening his eyes, calm once more, he saw the other man looking at him with a strange mix of pity and more than a little sadness. He shook his head, that was not possible. Glancing back up, he saw only a look of calm indifference. "Alright, Voldemort, talk," he ordered, wand still trained on the much older man.

Voldemort smiled slightly to himself. The boy was just as he remembered. "As you've no doubt noticed, I've been revived once again. One of my more cowardly and secretive followers- "he nodded to a black robbed body lying a few feet away- "took it upon himself to bring me back and somehow succeeded. I, however, am not the same man I used to be. I have seen the error of my old ways and want to make amends."

Harry's anger had grown with every word from the older man's mouth. How dare he? How dare he come here and act as if he could make up for what he'd done? How dare he think that anyone would be naïve enough to believe he'd changed?

The Dark Lord shivered slightly as air and magic again began to spin around the fuming youth. "Potter…" he began, unsure of what he could do or say to pacify the green-eyed man.

"How dare you?" Harry suddenly screamed, darts of pure magic shooting in every direction. A small part of his brain winced as a bolt rushed past the older man's shoulder, tearing through cloth and flesh. He quickly pushed that part down, focusing all his energy on his anger. "How can you come and suddenly think everything can be alright?" he asked, quiet tone doing nothing to mask his fury.

Voldemort seemed about to say something but Harry cut him off, voice cold. "You've taken so much away from so many people. How can you even think you can make up for that?" he spat.

The red-eyed man flinched, realizing for the first time that he could never really make up for everything he had done. "I-"

"No!" Harry yelled, magic spinning faster than ever. "I don't care! Whatever you want to say doesn't matter! You can never be forgiven." His voice trailed off and he choked back a sob.

A list of the dead seemed to flash before his eyes. Mother. Father. Sirius, the closest thing he'd ever had to a father. Remus. Tonks. Dumbledore, both mentor and friend. The list seemed to stretch on and on, his sorrow growing with every remembered face. Even Hedwig, who had been the only one he could really rely on all those long, lonely summers at the Dursley's. "There are no second chances."

Harry's words struck a chord deep within Voldemort. He had watched the things he had done over and over, as well as the things that his followers had done in his name, and had time to think on them, but this was something altogether new. He'd never taken into account the pain he'd inflicted, the harsh emotions his actions had caused, the lives he'd ended.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, dropping to his knees. Then, to Harry's great shock, he began to cry. Great, salty drops ran unabashed down the pale, proud face and Harry felt his anger and hate suddenly flee. To see the man who even now inspired fear in so many crying so openly and remorsefully left him at a loss. Slowly, he lowered his wand. The other man didn't seem to be in any condition to attack him at the moment.

The feared Dark Lord continued to cry, oblivious to the world around him, and Harry began to feel a little uncomfortable, perhaps even worried. Tentatively, he walked forward and reached out, to do what he didn't know and wasn't sure he wanted to think about. "Er… Lord… Voldemort?" he asked, unsure.

The older man's head shot up, red and tear stained. "Please," he begged, "please don't call me that." His voice was so full of loss and distress that Harry couldn't help the pity that welled up in his chest. Harry was slightly afraid of what he felt, least of all because it was for his one greatest enemy. He nodded, not knowing what else to do.

"Thank you," the Dark Lord whispered. He breathed deeply, steeling himself for what he still needed to do, only hoping it wouldn't cause another blow up in the younger man.

Carefully, he dried his face on the sleeve of his robe then looked straight into those pure green eyes. "Please," he said, voice slightly unsteady, "I just want to do what I can to make up for what I've done. I know it will never be enough, but I want to do all I can…"

Harry stared deeply into the glimmering red eyes, looking for any sign of deceit. Finding none, he stood, grimacing. "This would be easier if you were still trying to take over the world," he replied, wryly amused.

The older man nodded, sighing slightly as he stood. "Can you help me?" he asked, ready for the worst.

"I'll do what I can," Harry replied. He was rewarded by a small, unsure smile that lit up the other's face. A small part of his mind swore to make that happen more often.

Suddenly, the lobby rang with loud cracks, tell-tale signs of Apparation. The two found themselves at the center of a ring of Aurors, including the Minister himself. They seemed confused, understandable as the Boy-Who-Lived and former Dark Lord realized how close they were to one another and the absence of any sign of fighting.

Harry took a deep breath, rubbing his forehead wearily. He had a lot of explaining to do, it seemed. He could only hope he was doing the right thing.

---

A/N: I believe that was longer than the last chapter, so I hope that made up for it being so long since it updated. So, what'd you think? I liked this chapter :D And just in case you think Voldie is too OOC, mentally he's kind of reverted back to when he was a teenager. He still has all his knowledge, and is just as cunning as he was back then, but he's also more emotional and less stable. That covers any concerns. Anyway, school's starting soon so I'll hopefully get more writing done. Don't hold your breath though XD

REVIEW please!! :D