Rating:
15
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Harry Potter Tom Riddle Lord Voldemort
Genres:
Angst
Era:
Harry and Classmates During Book Seven
Spoilers:
Half-Blood Prince
Stats:
Published: 04/06/2007
Updated: 04/06/2007
Words: 1,574
Chapters: 1
Hits: 280

Long Since Forgotten

PrincessSchez

Story Summary:
Voldemort has been defeated, and as he slowly dies, his life begins to flash before his eyes....

Long Since Forgotten

Posted:
04/06/2007
Hits:
280

Blood was everywhere: on his robes, the floor, his hands, and Harry's hands, as crimson torrents of red liquid poured out from his wounds. Voldemort rested his head on the cool ground, closing his eyes. As the life slowly began to fade from his body, he could hear footsteps around him, followed by the sounds of Harry's triumphant voice. His nemesis had finally defeated him, and now, he waited for the last remaining bit of his soul - and himself - to die.

Flashes of memories shone on the back of his eyelids, playing like movies long since forgotten. He was back in the orphanage, where a strange woman was looking down at him with eyes that stared in slightly different directions. At first, he did not recognize the woman, but something inside him distinctly told him it was his mother. There was something almost comforting about her and the warmth of her arms as they encircled him. She smiled a crooked, toothy grin before speaking softly, almost whispering the words, "Welcome to the world, Thomas Marvolo Riddle."

A bright flash of light burned in front of him as the scene changed, and the woman with the crooked grin and oppositely pointing eyes was no longer there. Instead, as he looked around, he saw that his mother was in an old casket just a few feet in front of him. Mrs. Cole's voice spoke in his ears as she shifted him from one arm to another, telling him that they should go now and leave his mother in peace.

He was older now, perhaps five or so by his guess, and he was standing inside a cold, darkened closet that was only big enough for two very small people. He cried out, tears pouring down his cheeks as he begged to be let out, that the darkness was scaring him.

The scene shifted, and above his head Billy Stubbs' rabbit dangled from the rafters. The sobs of the dead rabbit's owner echoed in front of him as Mrs. Cole tried to console the distraught boy while demanding that Tom tell her what happened. The smell of salty air and blood filled his nostrils as he watched a young girl - around his age - screaming. She was begging him to kill her as blood dripped from deep cuts on the palms of her hand. "Shut up, Amy!" he shouted. Another memory came, this one involving a man with auburn hair and a horrid purple suit sitting on the edge of his bed. It was Albus Dumbledore telling him he had just been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Diagon Alley and all the bustling shops in the little wizarding area faded from his site into a large scarlet steam engine that sped through many tiny villages in the lush, green countryside. His vision went dark as a soft, low voice spoke in his ear that Slytherin would be the right house for him.

Thirteen now, he stood inside the Hogwarts library, where he watched his little group of followers torment a first year Ravenclaw girl. Abraxas Malfoy slapped the girl hard across the face, sending her tumbling back into a table, her head making a sickening sound upon contact. However, the sounds of her cries of pain were drowned out by the familiar sounds of a large snake slithering by him. Now a fifteen-year-old, he was deep within the Chamber of Secrets, watching the Basilisk devour the roosters he'd recently killed. Showers of blood landed at his feet, as the Basilisk crunched noisily on the bones.

A seventeen-year-old girl with black hair and squared glasses pulled up into a loose bun straddled him; her nude body pressing down on his as she kissed him on the lips. She lifted up, running her hands down his body as he lurched with each touch, enjoying the sensation it brought. She leaned forward to kiss him again, her glasses almost sliding completely off her face, as he softly moaned her name into the air.

The naked girl vanished and he was alone again, standing inside the girl’s lavatory, running his long fingers over a silver faucet while hissing the words, "Open." Somewhere in the lavatory, a girl shrieked, yelling at him to get out. As he turned to look at the girl, the girl's body seized up, and she collapsed onto the floor, dead. Seconds later the vision shifted and Dumbledore was asking him what he was doing out so late, to which he replied that he'd seen the Headmaster. However, Dumbledore's face slowly morphed into an older version of himself. He backed Tom Riddle Sr. against the wall as he began advancing on him, stepping over the bodies of his grandparents, which littered the floor. With a wave of his wand, a jet of green light hit the older man in the chest, causing him to fall to the floor in a heap. It was disgusting how much he looked like his filthy Muggle father...

Yet the corpse of his father disappeared as his own reflection appeared in front of him, his hair now longer as he glanced at himself in a tiny mirror in a dingy little shop. Mr. Burkes had just entered the backroom, looking rather pleased over something as he ordered him to head to Mrs. Smith's house once more to change his recent offer. An old house-elf greeted him into the house, as a stumpy old woman beckoned him to sit down. He reached to kiss her hand, but a flash of light blinded him as he now looked down at the woman's lifeless body. The woman lay slumped over in her chair like a large, morbid doll, the blood slowly dripping from the corners of her mouth, his wand pointed right at her chest. He heard himself laugh as he lifted her head and looked into the face of Hepzibah Smith one last time.

The scene changed again, and he was standing inside Dumbledore's office, many years later. He had come to ask for a job, but judging from Dumbledore's expression, he knew it was a lost cause. The feeling of hatred toward Dumbledore coursed through him as the path in front of him grew darker, his only source of light coming from the moon above. He traveled through a clearing in the forest, the sounds of feet shuffling behind him. He spoke, alerting the others that no one would ever find them here. That vision faded as three frightened young women stood in front of him, each begging him to show them mercy; but he waved his hand without a care as they were slowly carried away into an adjoining room where their screams filled the silent air as he turned his back and walked away.

Another memory came into view - a young woman with heavy lidded eyes and black hair that framed her face reached out a hand to him. He took her into a darkened room where the woman slipped out of her robe and wrapped her arms tightly around him, kissing him.

While a new memory blurred in front of his eyes, this time about his first rise to power, a feeling of immense pleasure filled him as the sounds of people screaming met his ears. A child was crying in the corner as he raised his wand, the Cruciatus Curse hitting the child's mother squarely in the chest as she fell to the floor in violent convulsions. Words of "Avada Kedavra!" left his lips as a bright flash of green light left his wand, pointed directly at a small baby in a crib. The excruciating pain he felt as his soul was ripped from his body sent a chill down his spine as he hovered over his crumpled body. He was nothing more than vapor, a mere ghost as he inhabited the body of a snake, traveling through a densely wooded forest early one morning before his vision was shrouded in purple as the strong odor of garlic wafted toward his nose. The smell faded, the memories growing dark. After a moment, the blurred outline of a tombstone reading Tom Riddle Sr. came into focus, as did a handful of hooded figures standing by the cauldron from which he was reborn.

Flashes of light and sound now met his senses as he was locked heavily in battle with Dumbledore. Deep within the Ministry of Magic, he sent the Avada Kedavra curse toward the aged wizard, but that damned pet phoenix of his swallowed the killing curse as easily as if it was merely water before bursting into a bright shower of flames that forced him to close his eyes. After the excruciating brightness subsided, he slowly opened his eyes again and looked around. The movie that was playing all his life's memories was slowing down now and coming in short, fragmented spurts, stopping upon a recent memory in which Harry had finally succeeded in his long-awaited mission of killing him.

Standing above him, the bright green eyes of Harry Potter were staring down at him, pure disgust and hate etched all over his battle-worn and bloodied face. The world around him began to grow hazy, and within seconds, Voldemort took his last breath as everything around him faded into black.

A bright light shone before him, seeping through his closed eyelids as a woman's voice spoke gently into his ear, "Son, welcome home."


I probably should clear one thing up real fast. That is, I don't think Voldy is going to heaven when he dies. (Think more deep south.) I just thought it was fitting, even for him, to meet his mom one last time.