In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you.
Fandoms Without Non-Canon Ships: A Court Of Thorns and Roses, Throne Of Glass, Three Dark Crowns, The Ranger's Apprentice, The Lunar Chronicles, Once Upon a Time...
Lord Voldemort won the war, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix are destroyed.
Three hundred years later, the Dark Lord finally realizes how lonely eternity is.
And it doesn't help that the ghost of Harry Potter is haunting him.
Inspired by "Killing Lord Voldemort" by Bex Drake on fanfiction.net
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Narrator's POV
Lord Voldemort gazed upon the empty throne room boredly, tapping his long fingers on the arm rest of his throne.
He had ruled Wizarding Europe for three centuries, reshaping the magical continent into his own image, but around a century and a half ago he realized something: life eternal was amazing, but incredibly lonely.
Yes, he had attempted using lovers and pets as a way to keep that feeling of loneliness away, but it never worked for very long.
When the Battle of Hogwarts had been won, it hadn't taken long for him to realize that his horcruxes had been destroyed and it also hadn't taken long for him to repair them, so he was fully immortal once more.
After he had solidified his rule after killing that damned 'Chosen One' and that troublesome Order of the Phoenix, he had kept himself occupied by stomping out the dozens of rebellions that formed, and then setting his sights on the rest of the continent, so now, he was not only lonely but also incredibly bored.
"Hey, Tom." A far too familiar voice said from beside him
"Speak of the Devil and the Devil shall appear." The Dark Lord thought, looking to where the voice had come from and there he saw the ghost of Harry Potter
Ghost wasn't a accurate term for what he was seeing, what he was seeing was a hallucination probably caused by insanity, his long forgotten conscious making a desperate attempt, or his indescribable loneliness.
But no matter what had caused it, it hadn't changed the fact that he had been seeing and speaking with the boy he had killed for around fifty years.
"It's ironic." Lord Voldemort thought, "The boy I killed is now the only real company I have."
"Tom, do you hear me?" Harry asked
"Yes, Harry, I do." Lord Voldemort answered
He knew the version of the boy he was seeing didn't truly look like the boy he had killed all those years ago, in three hundred years the details had become blurry but he remembered some of them: round, black glasses; the Killing Curse green eyes; jet black, messy hair; pale skin; a thin waist; and that damned lightning-bolt shaped scar.
