[3] //Harry J. Potter\\
August 1, 1995
I sit there for a while, settled in the mysterious yet comfortable embrace.
I’m not sure how long passes as sobs turn to sniffles, and sniffles into nothing.
I look up through dry eyes at my mysterious intruder.
Red eyes adorn a sculpted face, with a soft nose, high cheekbones, and a sharp jawline.
Wait a second-
Red eyes. Deep, crimson red eyes. The only person with red eyes is Voldemort.
Instead of trying to get away, I stare at him with morbid curiosity. I study his face, wondering how he looks so human, considering the snake-faced monstrosity he appeared as in the third task.
“Voldemort.” A statement.
“Kill me?” A request.
§NO!§ An outraged denial, in parseltongue no less.
§Why?§
Confusion.
Why would he refuse? This is the prize he sought for years, why would he refuse such an opportunity?
His eyes seem to break a little, in… sadness? I don’t understand why...
§Oh my little soul,§ He caressed my hair in an oddly comforting way.
§Rest awhile, hm? We can converse later§
With my eyelids already drooping, and my vision relaxing, I was welcomed into the gentle embrace of unconsciousness.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
I slowly awaken, my head feeling like a porcupine’s nest, and my throat drier than sand.
The mattress beneath me is soft, but not to the point of sinking into the filling, and the pillow supporting my neck is fluffy and feather-soft.
Hold up-
A pillow? And a mattress!?
How-
It all floods back to me.
The Durlseys going on vacation.
Me taking the handgun from the garage.
My freedom being stolen from me. Voldemort .
How DARE he!? How dare he steal my freedom! And for what? His whole life goal was to kill me! I handed his most sought after prize to him on a lead-adorned platter and he denied it!
“Why? Why would he deny me the one thing we both desire the most!?” I voice my thoughts out loud.
§Because, darling; you are the keeper of my soul§ A voice shocks me out of my stupor, and I leap from the bed.
“You- why are you spying on me!”
§I was here the whole time§ He chuckles gently. He literally chuckled. THe big bad Dark Lord, Moldevort himself, chuckling? Gently?!
“What game is this? Why are you keeping me alive? Just kill me off already! It’s not like I’d stop you!”
“I will never kill you! As now I am aware of you as the keeper of my soul.” He seems incensed at even the mere thought of my demise.
“What do you mean!” I cry desperately. “You mentioned it earlier, in the garage, but I don’t understand!” I sound childish, but I am not embarrassed. It’s not like I’ve ever had a chance to be a child, anyway. And why should I pay respect to a man that has never done me the same common courtesy?
“It means exactly as I said- you have a fragment of my soul within your magical core, and it appears to have merged completely, making any possible removal of it impossible without fracturing your core.”
In an act of perhaps, kindness?- that will forever astound me, Voldemort brought me into a snug, warm embrace, and we gently sink to the ground.
Shocked, I let out a shuddering gasp, unconsciously leaning into the embrace. My mind starts to feel a bit fuzzy, and warm. “Mmm... feels nice..." I slurred, not feeling very cognizant.
He shifts a bit, and I cling to his front like a lifeline.
I don’t want this warmth to leave!
I let out a whimper of sorts at the thought of being left in the lonely, cold world, with nobody to even exist alongside.
My mind is even more fuzzy, but it’s comforting. It feels warm, and I just want to stay in this embrace forever. But I can’t, what if Voldemort decides he doesn’t want to kill me, but torture me instead? To leave me praying for demise even more than I already am. With the fear rooted in my mind, I desperately attempt to cling to my lucidity, trying to avoid the drowsiness attempting to drag down my consciousness into sleep.
“Hush, mi alma. You can let go, I will take care of you.”
Strange. I never thought Voldemort could sound comforting until now. The soft, deep, timbre, lowly resonating throughout his chest, washing over my ears. I subconsciously relax even further, melting against his chest.
Hmm, being taken care of? I think I might like that for a change...
And with that last thought, I allowed the comfortable haze to take over my mind.