Keeping The Dark Lord (on his toes)

Chapter - 37. The Consequences ( 26 September 1996 )

~Voldemort~

He knew the very moment his deepest fears came true as his mind clouded over with memories of another life that he’d never lived. He tried to fight through the fog as familiar, and yet still mostly unknown, memories assaulted his senses.

He watched from a first-person view as a familiar form stood off against his own. Watched in awe as his mate bested him again and again but unlike the awe he currently felt, he could feel an immense madness that resided in the form that he was currently trapped in, and no matter how he whispered words of assurance and outrage, the husk never strayed from its path.

Instead, his anger seemed to fuel the husk until he could only watch helplessly once more as the Death curse was cast from his wand. It struck his mate and madness consumed him even further, no matter how much he tried to reassure himself that his mate wouldn’t be able to die.

Fear is an irrational thing, after all. It takes no sense or meaning from anything but the vision you think you see before you and suddenly Voldemort found himself in control of his own body once more. Before him, stood the snake-faced version of himself and next to him he caught a glimpse of Dumbledore’s body slowly shriveling into nothing with cries of excruciating pain. The ritual had mostly run its course.

Yet he didn’t feel the relief he thought he would. Instead, he suddenly found it quite ironic that he now faced himself as a threat to his mate’s happiness, but he refused to let it drag on longer than it needed to.

With a simple thought, he summoned the sword of Gryffindor and thrust it through the second version of himself, and for a few moments, the beast inside him roared in triumph. But then he almost felt himself shatter as the other version of himself smiled and faded away, as if it played some sick trick, and he found himself holding the hilt of the sword that now protruded from Harry’s back.

His mate looked down in shock, before looking up again to catch his gaze, but instead of betrayal, he only saw the love his mate had for him mixed in with a knowing gaze as if he could guess what had happened, “You know, normal couples talk it out like civilized people. We aren’t even married yet and already it looks like we need couple counseling.”

Voldemort wanted to cry out that this wasn’t a joke, but he was interrupted as the sword suddenly started glowing and Voldemort had to release the sword to not get burnt.

A moment later, the sword seemed to sink into Harry’s skin and the wounds magically healed before he could even think of casting a healing spell on his mate. Voldemort wanted to step closer to Harry to see if he was truly healed, but he was unsure about whether it would be ok to do so.

His doubts suddenly came back to the forefront of his mind. What if it happened again? It felt like he was always hurting his mate given their past. Would it be safer if they weren’t together? What if…

Voldemort went crosseyed as he saw Harry’s hand move towards his forehead. He didn’t really comprehend what was happening until a sharp pain flashed through his head and he glared at his mate, who simply smiled sadly at him after flicking his head like a small child’s, “It wasn’t you, and I’m fine, see?”

Harry turned once as if to make a point before he frowned, “Though I don’t know how.”

His words were barely cold before a jovial Godric appeared and Voldemort glared at the man, “I thought you said that the sword would ensure that I wouldn’t hurt Harry!”

Harry looked between them in confusion, “You mean you trusted a Gryffindor to come up with a survival plan that didn’t carry any risks?”

An affronted, “Hey!”, from Godric was followed by a snicker, and Harry and Voldemort fully turned to find a beautiful woman standing behind Godric when he finally stepped out of the way.