!*!*! ATTENTION... ՈՒՇԱԴՐՈՒԹՅՈՒՆ ... DİKKAT !*!*!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me in any shape, way, or form. The proof is the fact I'm writing a fan-fiction about it.
Note: At the end of this chapter, all parseltongue is in italics.
Voldemort looked at himself in the mirror critically. If his plan was going to work, he needed not to look like himself.
He raised his wand and pointed it at himself, running the tip over parts of his body. His almost paper-white skin darkened to a healthy tan, his hair shortened to a crop, and his features became more chiseled. Finally, he passed his wand over his eyes, turning the rich scarlet to a mundane brown.
He stared at his reflection. It didn't resemble him in the slightest, but he frowned, not quite happy with it. Then, his lips twitched upwards in the ghost of a smile, and he passed the wand over his eyes once more. When he opened his eyes again, they were a bright, stunning green. A color very similar to a certain Boy-Who-Lived eyes. Perfect.
Another few seconds later and his black wizarding robes had been replaced with dark denim jeans and a button up navy shirt. He even had a pair of trainers on. Unlike most of his followers, he actually knew quite a bit about the muggle world. After all, the first rule was to know your enemy, and, while he accepted that muggle-borns didn't deserve to be skinned and hung from the ceiling, muggles were another story entirely.
"You look very nice, Tom," a dreamy voice spoke up from behind him.
He turned around to find Luna Lovegood staring at him and wearing magenta robes that seemed to be intent on blinding him. "Thank you, Ms. Lovegood. Do I look like a muggle?"
She did an odd head bobble that seemed to be both a yes and a no at the same time. "On the outside, you do, Tom. But your energy is all wrong for a muggle. I have an amulet that could help regulate-"
By now, he was sincerely sorry he had asked. He cut her off his an imperious wave of his hand. "Never mind. I'm going to be gone for several hours. You know how to reach me if any of the idiots here muck something up or anyone starts a revolt." He almost wished someone would revolt. It might alleviate some of his boredom.
She nodded. "Yes. I know what to do. Tom, may I ask you a question?"
"Yes, but if it annoys me, I will crucio you."
Unafraid, she asked anyways. "What exactly do you plan to do with Harry Potter?"
He paused, head tilted to the side in thought. "I might kill him, but… I'm not sure. Whatever happens, I'm sure it will be interesting," he answered finally, the gleam in his eye reminiscent of a particularly naughty child who had found a B.B gun and lived in a glass building.
Then, before she could ask anything else, he turned on his heel and disapparated.
There was blackness and the familiar unpleasant feeling as if being simultaneously being pressed from all side in a steel vise and being forced through a tube. And then it was gone, and he was standing in a small alleyway. Old red brick buildings lined either side, and a cat hissed and sped away at his sudden appearance.
He straightened his shirt and walked out of the alley, joining the throng of people traversing the sidewalk.
The building he wanted was one of the ones forming the alley. It was a small red brick building that looked like it belonged in a different century. A sign over the door proclaimed in peeling script, "Reid's Fine Books."
He blinked, and checked the address. It read 134 Cross St, and the wide windows were filled with books on display. How very odd. Harry Potter was working in a bookstore. He wasn't aware that the boy had any interest in literature at all. Hadn't that been the specialty of his muggle-born friend with the bushy hair? None the less, this was were Amelia Myrtlerford had told him to go, and he knew she wouldn't dare lie.
Without another thought, he pushed open the door and entered the shop. Despite the huge windows, it was dark inside the shop, with row upon row of books. They lined the walls, filled the shelves, covered tables, and there were even some stacked on the floor in precarious looking piles. The air was slightly musty and old. It was the smell of libraries and old bookstores everywhere.
Voldemort looked around, and then froze, eyes fixed on something, or rather someone.
There he was.
Less than two meters away, sitting behind a desk, was Harry Potter. There was no mistaking him. He still had the same unruly and wild black hair, even though it had grown out a little, curling around his ears and completely covering his scar. His skin was lightly tanned, a soft gold color, and his face was, not delicate, but more defined somehow. All of the baby fat of his youth had melted away. His familiar round glasses perched on the edge of his nose.
Voldemort's gaze traveled away from his face, and down to his collar. A satisfied smile formed on his lips. Hanging from the boy's neck, on a silver chain, was a small green pendant, just a faceted rectangle of jade, or so it appeared. In reality, it had a spell on it. It blocked magic, or to be more precise, his magic in particular. After all, he couldn't have the boy's scar burning and letting him know that Lord Voldemort was there, now could he? And it had been so simple to have Amelia Myrtlerford to bring him to the jeweler friend of Harry's that she worked for. After that, he took a piece of the woman's jewelry, cast a spell it, which actually involved a spell and a rather unpleasant potion involving his blood, and then used the imperius on the woman to make her beg Harry to wear the necklace on the pretense that he was the inspiration for the line and how happy it would make her for him to wear it.
Voldemort had counted on the boy's… gryffindorness. Even if he hadn't liked the necklace, he still would have worn it to make the woman happy. He shuddered slightly. Harry Potter was just so… nice. It was almost alarming and slightly sickening.
Straightening his shirt once more, Voldemort hoped that the pendant would work. It should cut off their connections, but, as he'd learned form experience, curses were funny, tricky things. He moved closer and closer until he stood right in front of Harry, and then allowed himself a small, smug twitch of the lips.
Harry was completely engrossed in a book, and was most definitely not clutching his scar in pain. That part was almost disappointing.
After a few moments in which he was ignored, Voldemort cleared his throat loudly.
Harry jumped in his chair, knocking several books to the floor. He flushed red and hurriedly bent down to pick up the books, laying them carefully on the desk. "Sorry about that. I was just engrossed in the… Never mind. Um… How can I help you?" he asked, looking apologetic. There wasn't one flash of recognition as he looked at Voldemort.
Voldemort waved his apology away. "No need to apologize," he said, pitching his voice lower than usual. "It's easy to get spell-bound by a good book."
Harry nodded. "Now, what can I help you with?"
Time to have a bit of fun.
"I was looking for a book… on magic."
Harry's eyes widened slightly, and he stiffened. "Magic?" he repeated, voice trying, and completely failing, to sound casual.
Voldemort nodded. "Yeah, magic. A friend of mine has a little sister who's interested in witches, wizards, and that sort of thing. Her birthday is coming up, and I thought I'd buy her a book," he said, lies rolling off his tongue fluidly.
It was almost funny the way that Harry relaxed during his explanation. "Oh, right. Magic! Of course. Um… I think we actually have some books like what you're looking for," Harry said, running his hand through his hair unconsciously. "Would you like me to show you where they are?"
"I'd appreciate that."
Harry slid out from behind the desk and motioned for Voldemort to follow him.
The disguised dark lord took the opportunity to study the boy some more. First of all, he was short, probably around five-six, and he was not skinny, but thin and lithe.
Harry stopped abruptly and pointed to the shelf in front of him. "Try some of these."
Voldemort flipped through the books, repressing a sneer at the images of wizards that looked disturbingly like Dumbledore. Finally, he just grabbed one at random. He was just going to throw it away, or at someone, later anyway. "I'll take this."
Harry took the book and started walking back to the desk. "Oh, good choice. The Enchanted Forest chronicles are pretty good. I'm sure she'll enjoy it," he said, bagging it. "Now, that will be two pounds."
Voldemort handed him a five pound note. "Keep the change."
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but he cut him off. "Keep it and think of it as payment."
"Payment for what?"
"For you telling me your name."
Harry stared at him, and then flushed, red creeping into his cheeks.
The Dark Lord held in a laugh, or cackle to be more accurate. He'd make Harry Potter blush. How incredibly odd, yet amusing.
Harry was slowly shaking his head as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening, but he stuck out his hand. "Harry. My name is Harry Evans."
Ah, using his mother's name.
Voldemort took the offered hand, studiously ignoring the tingle than went through his arm as their skin touched. Apparently, the spell on the pendant couldn't block all signs of their bond. "Well, Harry, my name is Thomas Deldir. It was a pleasure to meet you."
He let go of his hand, and Harry said, "It was nice to meet you, Thomas. Come back for a book anytime."
"I just might do that." Voldemort flashed one last smile, grabbed his bag, and then walked out of the shop. He walked several blocks before dodging into an alley, and disapparating.
A second later, give or take a few milliseconds, he apparated, arriving in his private rooms. He threw the bag containing the book carelessly on a chair, and flopped down onto a bed, running his hand absentmindedly over the scarlet silk sheets.
That had been… interesting, but several things just weren't making sense. Harry Potter was alive and living under an alias as a muggle. Harry potter was a Gryffindor through and through, completely devoted to the light, or that's what he had thought, but those two facts just didn't go together. Why did he vanish? Why did he leave the light to fend for themselves and run away?
A slithering alerted him to another being in the room, and he reached out to caress the cold, almost jewel-like, scales of Nagini.
"Where have you been?" she asked, sounding remarkably motherly, gliding over him and resting her head on his chest.
"I went to see Harry potter," he hissed back, parseltongue forming on his lips easily.
She cocked her head to the side, looking inquisitive, and he told her everything that had occurred. When he was done, she was silent, black tongue flicking in and out thoughtfully.
"What do you think?" he asked, running fingers delicately over her.
"I think the boy has more in him than you think." That wasn't exactly what he expected her to say. She continued, "Go see him again. Learn more. This will be good for you."
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Good for me?"
"No more boredom. Your followers will be happier."
He smirked. It was true. When he was bored, minions had a tendency to get maimed… a lot. "I think you're right, Nagini. I'll go visit him again soon."
"Of course I am right."
He pushed her off of him gently and strode over to the mirror, staring at his reflection intently, memorizing how he looked for when he donned the disguise again. The eyes… His eyes were dull in color compared to the vivid, brilliant, almost avada kedavra, green of Harry Potter's. He waved his wand over his appearance, and the changes melted away, leaving him handsome, pale, and crimson-eyed again.
Nagini crawled up and draped herself around his shoulders. He petted her head and grinned slowly, an almost predatory grin.
Right now, Harry Potter was a puzzle, and he loved puzzles, either solving them or breaking them. Yes, he was going to visit Harry Potter again, and things were going to get very interesting.
Well, I got rather positive reviews on my first chapter of this story. And now you've read the first encounter between Voldemort and Harry. I hope you all enjoyed it. Poor Harry, he doesn't know what's going on at all. I have a feeling that Voldemort is going to turn his new life completely upside-down. This was just a quick meeting between the two, but next chapter I'm going to introduce some of our favorite characters. Can anyone guess who? So, I guess I can say... next chapter, things are going to get interesting. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I never expected that many on my first chapter.
Ja ne,
Rumer Hasit
itachisgurl93: Well, thank you for reviewing. You're my first reviewer on this story! Thank you very much, and I hope this update was quick enough for you. So, what did you think of this chapter?
Calluna Rose: I'm glad you think this was a good beginning. Beginnings are really important, no? They're what draws the person reading into the story. I actually wrote it a few months ago, but never got around to posting it.
PhoenixPhlame: Ah, a promising story? And you like it? Thank you. Thank you very much. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. In the next chapter, I think some other of our favorite characters will make their appearance.
SnowflakeChemistry: Ah, thank you for your review! I'm glad that you like what I did to Voldemort. I wanted to humanize him, like you said, but not make him into some goody-two shoes. No, he still likes to torture people and execute dastardly plots. Don't worry, he's not going to be too harsh on Harry. He's going to make him into his new plaything... Okay, you might want to worry.
Brandy Bandshoe: Yep. I just think Luna's a great character, and I thought it would be interesting to see how she and Voldemort interacted. You may be right about the Voldemort not muggle-borns, but I wanted to put in that piece about Muggle-borns and halfbloods being better, so it fit, and it explained his sudden change of heart. Sort of. Anyway, thanks for reviewing.
Gemini Peverell: Ah, thank you. I'm glad to hear, or read, that you think that. Oh, and I like your username. It's got a nice ring to it, plus it ties in with Harry Potter. Just thought I'd mention that.
spoonring: Umm... Okay. Well, if you did check back for this chapter, then let me know what you think, okay?
Reader-anonymous: Hmm... You really think about the story that you're reading and try to understand it, don't you? Sadly, I'm not going to tell you why Harry ran away yet, because it would spoil part of my story, but I am going to tell you that you are partially right in what you wrote. And you gave me a bit of an idea to make it more realistic, too. So, thank you, both for reviewing and giving me the idea. Oh, and cool name, by the way.
Fireotaku18: Ah! I got you curious with the first chapter, didn't I? Well, hopefully you liked this chapter enough to stick around for the next one.