Brother

Voldemort sat at the end of a long table in a dark room. Currently he was pondering. Oh how the wizards world will finally be his. What he didn't intend however was for the room to turn darker and colder. At first the Dark Lord thought it was the work of dementors but quickly dismissed that idea, not possible, another dark beast then?

Voldemort slowly rose from his throne-like chair and gripped his wand tightly. The room was almost pitch black if not from the lit fire several meters away from where Voldemort stood. Casting a wordless lumos he slowing backed up towards the fire place, prepared to battle any creature that had the misfortune of crossing his path. 'What is happening?' If there is one thing the Dark Lord hates, it is being clueless.

"Hello Tom"

The dark lord sent several deadly spells into the darkness where the mysterious voice originated from. 'Tom?, that is not his name'

"Please lower you wand, Tom. I come in peace and loyalty"

The voice was young and familiar. And for the first time, in a very long time, Voldemort felt something close to fear. But Voldemort did not show it, he never did. The Dark Lord decided to draw his enemy out of the darkness.

"Show yourself coward"

And Nico Di Angelo stepped into the light of the fire. A cold smirk gracing his face.

"Long time no see brother"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At first Voldemort stared at him. All he could conjure in him mind was fleeting images of a young Italian boy from his childhood and a girl with dark hair wearing a floppy green hat. This boy in front of him resembled his old brother so much but it cannot be him.

"Tell me who you are!"

Voldemort growled. He kept his wand raised at this stranger even though he looked quite relaxed, does he not know that he is standing in the presence of The Dark Lord? The boy raised an eyebrow at him and almost laughed.

"Do not tell me you don't recognize me Tom"

Voldemort sent a wordless cutting hex at the boy. As the stranger lifted his hand the wipe the blood coming out the side of his face when Voldemort spoke.

"I don't know who you think you are" The Dark Lord sneered, "But that name is dead and so is the man along with it. Now I will tell you once again, Tell me who you are!"

Voldemort walked closer the the boy and jabbed his wand into the boys neck. And he was almost impressed. Voldemort had seen grown men sob when they were merely in his presence and this boy had barely bat an eye, even with blood rushing down his face.

"It's me To-," He stopped himself at the last second, "your brother, Nico Di Angelo"

The boy, Nico, raised his hands in defense but Voldemort only jabbed his wand harder into Nicos neck.

"Impossible. The Nico Di Angelo I know would be either dead or 80 years old by now."

But Nico only smiled.

"I could say the same thing to you, brother. Yet here we both are"

Voldemort lowered his wand slightly. As much as he knew this could be a trap, he couldn't help but feel as though Nico was telling the truth. Voldemort looked at Nico and tried to push into his mind but Nico only growled in response.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you, brother"

Another cutting hex was sent his way. But this time dangerously close to his neck. Nicos hand flew up to the wound to keep pressure on it, lest he wanted to bleed out.

"You do not speak to your Lord like that. If you are who you say you are, then prove it before I kill you where you stand"

Nico looked straight into Voldemort's eye

" I swear on my magic, that I am the Nico Di Angelo you remember , your brother"

Nico reached into the wand holster on his upper thigh and pulled his wand out preforming a simple lumos but all Voldemort did was raise his hairless eyebrow.

Nico sighed and reached into his pocket to pull out an old photograph. He held it up for Voldemort to see. It was an old portrait of Bianca, Nico and Tom. The Orphanage had raised enough money to take some photos for their records. It helps the kids get adopted, if the potential parents could see their faces before hand. But of course Bianca, Nico and Tom insisted on having their photo taken together. If one was getting adopted, they all were. Voldemort's was almost shocked at the photograph. He snatched it from Nicos hand,

"Where did you get this?"

"Before we left, Bianca and I" Nicos voice faltered slightly yet Voldemort didn't notice, " I went into the office and stole it from the Matrons. It was the only thing I had of you that I could hang onto"

Voldemort lowered his wand completely.

"Where did you go? How are you so young?"

What Voldemort really wanted to ask was 'why did you leave me all those years ago?' 'Why did you leave even when I begged you to stay?'

Nico moved towards the fire seeing that he was in the clear and looked into the flames.

"Bianca and I, we were placed in a cursed building. A building designed to slow time and trap you. We were under the impression that we spent only a few weeks in there but in reality, it was a few decades"

Voldemort moved beside him, feeling more and more convinced that this was his brother. It may not of been the story he told but the way he moved and spoke. That was how his brother moved. Not many people can fake being another person. At least not down to another persons mannerisms.

"And where is Bianca now?"

Nico froze, this Voldemort did notice.

"She's dead Tom. She died a couple years back"

Voldemort never experienced grief but if this feeling, this awful, terrible feeling inside of him was grief, then there was a first time for everything. He didn't even notice that Nico had called him Tom but this time he felt only comfort in the name, instead of disgust.

Neither of them moved for quite sometime finding comfort in each others presence until Voldemort broke the silence.

"You're a wizard as well"

It wasn't a question

"Yes. I found my father- " Voldemort turned his gaze on Nico, "He informed me recently, said it ran on his side and my mothers. He gave me my wand, taught me everything"

There was a burning question in Voldemort's head, one he was almost afraid to ask.

"And Bianca?"

"She didn't live to find out"

"Oh"

Voldemort's was busy thinking away in his head '"said it ran on his side and my mothers" so he's a most likely a pureblood then'. He seems powerful, but just how powerful?'

"How did you find me?"

Nico looked up from the fire at last, blood dried  on his face and neck, already stained his shirt. He lifted his hand and Voldemort watched in fascination as shadows began to form around it forming obscure shapes.

"My Father, he possesses a special type of magic that was passed onto Bianca and I. It allows us to manipulate the shadows, control them, even use them for travel. When I heard whispers of your return, at first I didn't believe them but all I had to do was focus on your magical signature and-" The darkness around Nicos hand disappeared suddenly. "Poof, I was here, having spells fired at me left and right"

Nico managed a tight smile. 'He was powerful, very powerful indeed"

"Join me"

Nico seemed almost shocked at the request and soon shook his head.

"I'm not a follower, surely you know that, brother"

Voldemort did.

"Not as my follower, Nico. As my equal, my brother. You are immensely powerful. I will benefit greatly from having you on my side. And I remember from the time when we were children, we always did everything together-"
The Dark Lord resting his arm on the mantle piece and leaned into where Nico was standing "whether it was annoying the other children or getting punished by the matrons we were always together"

And Bianca

"What do you say brother?"

Voldemort held his hand out. Nico grinned and took his hand at the elbow before sliding it down to his hand for a hand shake. Unbeknownst to Nico, that was the final test to see if it was truly him. Nico and Tom used to shake their hand like that every time they agreed on something, whether it was an oath to always look at for each other or simple things, like agreeing to share a cookie Bianca managed to grab for them. It was just their thing.

"I wouldn't of come here otherwise Voldemort"

Nico said, yet somehow it didn't sit right with the Dark Lord.

"Tom"

"Excuse me?"

"You may call me Tom"

"Alright Tom"