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Post by laz on Sept 8, 2011 10:41:32 GMT -5
Tom could feel his head spinning. He used one of his gloved hands to brush away the snow that had collected atop a large, jagged rock. Slowly, he crouched down and sat, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. How could this have happened? One moment he was the most confident man in all of Britain and the next he felt as if his world was crumbling beneath his feet. He had plans, plans he just found out would be dismantled in one night of incredible rage. Tom would ruin everything over some prophecy that he hadn’t even heard yet.
Could a man change his stars? Could he rewrite his own history? He desperately hoped so. Ever since his future self arrived Tom had felt nothing but anger and uncertainly. So he killed Lily and James Potter but, not their son. What if he didn’t go to Godric's Hollow? What if he didn’t listen to that prophecy? What if? What if? Tom leaned his head back feeling the cold flakes of snow fall on his face. This was absolute insanity. He was Lord Voldemort he was supposed to be in control, he was supposed to be on top but, right now he felt tired and lost.
He opened his eyes and tilted his head to get a look at the Shrieking Shack. He’d spent many years during his time at Hogwarts sneaking into that old place. He loved the creaking stairs, the angular architecture, and the remote, allegedly haunted atmosphere of it. It was a great place just to get away from everyone. It was the place he went to after he opened the Chamber of Secrets and set the Basalisk on that mudblood girl in the bathroom. He paced the chipped floorboards for hours debating what to do. Dumbledore was going to close the school and Tom didn’t want to be sent back to the Orphanage. If the school closed he might never be allowed to go back. Magic was his escape.
The Shrieking Shack is where he formulated his brilliant plot to frame Hagrid and that god-awful spider for his murderous deeds. Unsurprisingly, it worked. That oaf was kicked out of school and everything went back to normal. Or as normal as they could possibly get after all the chaos Tom had set upon the students and faculty. It was a soft crunching noise of boots trudging through the snow that brought Tom back to reality. His bright blue eyes searched the surroundings for a moment before he caught sight of a medium sized boy, a teenager, walking toward him.
[/blockquote][/blockquote] TAGGING Harry Potter !
WORDS 450!
WEARING CLOTHES !
NOTES In the future I murder your parents, attempt to murder you, plague you every year you are at school, send people to try and kill you, try and kill your friends and loved ones and oh, yeah that one time I had Wormtail cut your arm to resurrect me. Do you want to be my friend? !
LYRICS BAD REPUTATION BY JOAN JETT !
CREDIT R A W R IT’S E M M A ! OF CAUTION ![/COLOR][/FONT] |
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Post by harryjamespotter on Sept 8, 2011 18:13:02 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] In the end you will realize finally, how are you saved? The Words: 421 The Outfit: here Tag Voldemort, Voldemort, ooh Voldy Voldy Voldy Voldemort! Hogsmeade looked like something he'd seen on a Christmas card. Everything was covered in light, fluffy snow, the shops and restaurants were all done up with beautiful magical lights, and seasonal plants--poinsetta and evergreen branches. All in all it was a cozy feeling in town, but for some reason the Shrieking Shack drew Harry in.
In contrast, the snow that fell lightly upon it seemed to weight heavily on the dilapidated old home, and Harry wondered for the first time how long it had been there. When he was in school it was old and run down, but he figured it would have looked new--or newer, when Lupin went to Hogwarts. It was not so. In fact it was so close to the condition it would be in in the nineteen nineties that memories of his Third Year came rushing back to him. He had to shake the thoughts from his head or risk standing out in the cold, daydreaming for hours.
Then he saw him: an older man, perhaps only thirty, no more than twenty feet away. He was also watching the Shack, and Harry wondered if the home was any newer when he went to Hogwarts. Maybe it was just as run down. Maybe the place was kept in a perpetual state of near destruction to keep that small sense of foreboding old abandoned, and rumoredly haunted, homes had within the people living nearby. There was an abandoned house not far from Privet Drive when Harry was growing up, and walking past it and looking into those dark windows, feeling like something was in there looking back, filled him with a sense of fear and excitement--a craving for adventure. Perhaps the Shrieking Shack was that for young witches and wizards.
He went to take a step back, to turn and leave, but inadvertently took a step forward, catching the man's attention. He caught his gaze and smiled warmly, silently cursing himself for mixing up his goal and his actual movements. "Afternoon," he greeted, his voice carrying easily through the crisp open air as he walked towards the man. He brushed some snow from a rock just next to the man, sitting down and looking back up at the home they'd both been watching. "Did you spend some time up here when you were in Hogwarts too?" By 'here' he did not mean outside the Shrieking Shack, but inside it, and imagined if the man's attention was so long drawn to it, that he would understand his meaning. |
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Post by laz on Sept 9, 2011 19:06:23 GMT -5
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Surprisingly, Tom did not mind the unexpected company of this boy. He was so befuddled in his own mind that he welcomed the distraction. The boy was of average size and stature with thick, messy black hair and glasses. A Hogwarts student on a trip to Hogsmeade no doubt. Tom remembered those trips fondly. Not much had changed in the small town since those days. Many of the pubs and shops had merely switched ownership from parent to child or belonged to the same grey-bearded man.
Tom nodded his head toward the boy, greeting him in silence. He joined Tom on the rock, his blue eyes peering out at the Shrieking Shack. Tom eyed him for a moment, he couldn't be more than fifteen. But, there was something else, something small and otherwise unnoticeable. Something that Tom had been told about. A thin, pink scar in the shape of a lightning bolt etched into the boys forehead.
Harry Potter.
He remained stoic on the rock, his heart pounding deep in his chest. Could this actually be the boy? This seemingly ordinary specimen? Tom could scarcely wrap his mind around the thought of a child defeating him but, actually seeing him, now that was a shock. His face remained undisturbed as he glanced back to the shack. Obviously, this Potter boy hadn't recognized him else they would not be interacting so calmly. He would have drawn his wand and attempted to kill the Dark Lord by now.
But, seriously, how could he recognize him? The only lord Voldemort this boy knew was the disfigured man with pale skin and a slanted nose. Very few, even in this time, could recognize Tom for the destructive force he was. What with his thick brown locks and seemingly kind smile. Harry spoke to him, his tone calm and even. He had no clue of the man who sat beside him.
There was a moment in which Tom contemplated cursing the boy. Knocking him to the ground, torturing him and then, killing him. But, curiosity of all things stopped him from acting on his urges. "Few are brave enough to enter." his deep voice resounded in the small clearing. "and therefore, few are privy to it's wonders. I spent most of my time at Hogwarts doing things I shouldn't have." A small smirk curled at the corner of his lips.
From what he had heard, he and this boy had a fair bit in common. Voldemort had made him an orphan, to which he felt no remorse merely curiosity. He wondered if not for the death of his parents what would have become of this boy. Harry Potter would have been ordinary. He would no doubt still carry the views of his parents but, would he have been as strong? As able to sacrifice himself for others if his parents had not sacrificed for him?
“It’s been my observation that men only travel to this place to be alone and to think. What vexes your mind so?”
[/blockquote][/blockquote] TAGGING Harry Potter !
WORDS 450!
WEARING CLOTHES !
NOTES In the future I murder your parents, attempt to murder you, plague you every year you are at school, send people to try and kill you, try and kill your friends and loved ones and oh, yeah that one time I had Wormtail cut your arm to resurrect me. Do you want to be my friend? !
LYRICS BAD REPUTATION BY JOAN JETT !
CREDIT R A W R IT’S E M M A ! OF CAUTION ![/COLOR][/FONT] |
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Post by harryjamespotter on Sept 9, 2011 20:08:00 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] In the end you will realize finally, how are you saved? The Words: 543 The Outfit: here Tag Voldemort, Voldemort, ooh Voldy Voldy Voldy Voldemort! "Huh," he commented idly. "You sound like the Weasley twins." He doubted the man would know about them having not been to Hogwarts in years, nor been there to see the newest arrivals from their future, but Harry knew them well and clearly remembered the trouble they caused. Sure they never actually hurt anyone, save for making their noses bleed uncontrollably for a bit, but they certainly caused their fair share of mayhem. Perhaps this man was something of a trouble maker himself--or perhaps his actions were slightly more...maicious. He seemed calm enough that his actions were either small and mundane--being out and about after curfew--or nearing unspeakable. It was just how the calm, quiet guys always were.
"I only went into the Shrieking Shack once, and it was rather by a series of random, unavoidable events. I believe most of my life is a series of random and unavoidable events, though, so I suppose it was a fitting way of...landing there." Landing perhaps was the best word to describe it, after he slid down the muddy slope beneath the Whomping Willow to enter it. "It's alright, though. A lot of people avoid things because they frighten them. That's the only reason certain places are so important to... us," he said with a shrug, supposing their shared interest in and willingness to enter the shack was enough to provide some sort of kinship--at least for a small while. "If it were not so--if everyone felt comfortable going anywhere they pleased--nothing would be sacred anymore."
An amused smirk unfurled on his lips. 'Merlin, that made me sound so old. Nothing is sacred anymore?' Well, he'd come close enough to saying it, anyway. "It’s been my observation that men only travel to this place to be alone and to think. What vexes your mind so?”
Harry's eyebrows raised as he wondered about that himself. "Well," he began, trailing off a second to collect his thoughts, "it's mostly stuck around one thing. Voldemort." He glanced sidelong at the man, curious if the reaction to the dark lord's name would be the same in the seventies as it was in the nineties. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but things have changed a lot around here--and now there are two of them. And I'm quite sure that means two dark wizards hell bent on seeing me dead. Well, soon enough, I suppose. I don't doubt he'll want to murder half a dozen more people I care about before he finally gives me the pleasure of his presence--whichever one finds me first."
He shook his head and let out a sigh. "Sorry, I'm ranting now, I believe. I must admit I'm rather accustomed to barely managing to survive attempts at my life--really, it's become something of a day to day routine. Kill a basilisk, avoid being killed by a werewolf, handle being rejected by a girl..." He nodded toward the man, a smile on his face, sure he'd, in his own time, felt the gut tightening tension one felt while asking a girl out, the fear of rejection in front of other students.
"And what about you? What brings you to this old and noble place?" |
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Post by laz on Sept 10, 2011 18:44:27 GMT -5
Tom shifted ever so slightly on the rock, realizing that this wasn’t going to be a short venture. He was glad of it to be honest; he needed a bit of relief to his solemnity. All he’d been doing since his future self had arrived was wallowing in his own discontent and it was about time that had stopped. He rubbed his hands together slowly, methodically, his eyes wondering back from the shack to the boy. In the past he wouldn’t have been so keen on settling down and chatting with someone, anyone for that matter. But, today he wasn’t feeling quite like himself and figured that there were worst things than sleuthing with the enemy.
These Weasley twins seemed like quite the interesting pair. But, Tom wasn’t foolish enough to think that they’d be willing to sign up for his crusade. Weasley that was the tip off that got him to thinking. Arthur, that muggle loving boy of a pureblood family. Bellatrix always seemed to be in a dither over him. A curious boy in the ways of those damn muggles but, harmless enough. However, the thought of troublesome twins related to a muggle lover wasn’t exactly a promising endeavor. But, that could be attended to later.
Harry was the passionate sort and Tom didn’t need his future self to tell him that. He could see it in the young man’s eyes. The way he spoke, the pauses he took, the careful consideration of the words he was about to speak and on occasion the utter disregard he had. And then there was the way in which he took to blathering to complete stranger as if they’d been long acquainted. random unavoidable events he said. Tom wouldn’t know a thing about that, not yet anyway. “Fear is what drives us.” he uttered after the boy had finished. It wasn’t an outstanding statement of genius but, it was a statement. One he believed in whole-heartedly.
And then it happened, almost unexpectedly. Harry said his name.
Tom barely batted and eye but, his heart stopped cold in his chest. Tilting his head ever so slightly to the side he replied briskly, “Him I’ve heard of.” Which all together was not a lie. Tom had heard of Voldemort, he also was Voldemort but, that didn’t need to be said. Not yet anyway. Tom was accustomed to lying and not at all ashamed of it. Even now he didn’t feel a flicker of remorse and not because he hadn’t done anything to the boy yet, but, because it was in his nature to be coarse.
“I doubt he’ll be too quick to act.” His voice trailed off with the wind. He let the pause stand for a few moments, inhaling a deep breath of cold air before continuing. “Even for a prize such as you, Harry Potter.” His blue eyes peered into Harry’s, “Patience. As disoriented as you are now, he is ten-fold. Imagine his distress.” Tom half-chuckled, “News of your endeavors have traveled faster and farther than you know. A grown man learns he is to be a defeated by a child; he’ll take his time.”
Tom wasn’t sure if he meant to soothe the boy with his sentiments or himself. He blinked; listening as Harry described his various encounters with death. Tom had to admit he was impressed he had survived in the face of such dangers. Werewolves and his Basilisk; Harry Potter was obviously a force to be trifled with. He would have to be careful with this one. He smiled warmly when the boy talked of being rejected by a girl. Tom had little interest in women these days but, during his time at Hogwarts there had been quite a few he’d had his eye on. He wasn’t completely inhuman, after all.
“Indignation.” his voice echoed once more. He ran his fingers through his hair, disheartened that he would soon be without it. “I can scarcely put to words the tempest of my mind. Much like you I have come to encounter certain evils in my time. More recently a phantom of the future that seeks to haunt me.” Tom thought only of the man who had brought together this madness, his own self and it bit at his very core. “In short, I came to escape, if only for a moment.”
[/blockquote][/blockquote] TAGGING Harry Potter !
WORDS some!
WEARING CLOTHES !
NOTES In the future I murder your parents, attempt to murder you, plague you every year you are at school, send people to try and kill you, try and kill your friends and loved ones and oh, yeah that one time I had Wormtail cut your arm to resurrect me. Do you want to be my friend? !
LYRICS BAD REPUTATION BY JOAN JETT !
CREDIT R A W R IT’S E M M A ! OF CAUTION ![/COLOR][/FONT] |
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Post by harryjamespotter on Sept 10, 2011 19:09:56 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] In the end you will realize finally, how are you saved? The Words: 351 The Outfit: here Tag Voldemort, Voldemort, ooh Voldy Voldy Voldy Voldemort!
"Fear is what drives fools." The words burst from his mouth without consideration, and he took a second to process how quickly they had come out before he continued. "That is, when a person uses fear to drive them in every place in life. Fear has its uses sometimes. Sometimes it can save a person's life. But that's only once in a while, and if it's not saving your life, ironically, it's crippling it--and other people's.
"Think of this: Voldemort was, from what I've gathered, afraid of death." Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, as if it was the dumbest thing he could ever think of. "Really stupid, especially for someone who's apparently so smart. Anyway, because of that he killed my family, tried to kill an infant, and spent years barely surviving on unicorn blood and other people's souls. Hell, he even came back a few more times and tried to kill me again. For someone who wants to live so much, he's really not enjoying what pathetic excuse for a life he does have. Honestly, I think he would have been better off if he just went about his business like a normal person. I know I would be--I'd actually have a chance to be normal."
His rant concluded into silence, and for a moment he only watched the snow fall over the shack. "That's good," he replied quietly. "Maybe he'll take this time to reconsider his actions--ones he's made already and ones he's planning on making. It seems unreal that someone could be so hateful, you know? There's got to be something in every person that cares about others, even if it is just a tiny thing."
They were quiet again and Harry watched snowflakes fall silently, only nodding when the man talked about indignation and ghosts. Everyone was haunted now, by their past or their future. He wondered what the man had seen, but then wasn't sure if he really wanted to know right away. Their mutual brooding, though more than likely quite unproductive, was somehow comforting.
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Post by laz on Sept 11, 2011 18:17:47 GMT -5
He was a passionate lad, indeed. Tom smiled to himself as the boy began sputtering about fools being driven by fear rather than humanity as a whole. But, Tom couldn’t deny the fact that the boy was correct. Bravery was advancing in spite of the fear you were faced with, fools are unable to face fear. They can’t stand the conflict nor endure the sensation of terror. It was the very thing that Tom fed off of; that moment when a man (or woman) is faced with that he (or she) fears the most. You could tell a lot about a person based on how they reacted to pressure, shock, and fear. The weak gravel. The strong endure.
Unicorn blood and souls? Tom frowned, he must have been quite desperate in the future to resort to such indecent methods. However, the perseverance of his future self was not at all a shock. Tom didn’t like being insulted, especially by the boy who would usurp him. Normalcy , is what he spoke of. Tom hated the sound of it. Why would you want to me ordinary when you could be extraordinary? Who would resign themselves to such a fate? He reckoned that Mister Potter had endured enough in his short life span to warrant such a request but, did not pity him for it. In fact, he was going to aid the boy. He was going to kill him and save him from the pain of being the Chosen One. Or perhaps, he would torture and kill his friends and family before doing him in.
He was growing weary of the boys complaints but, kept his face soft and attentive. “Hate is a carnal thing, Mister Potter. It resides in the deep recesses of our hearts and manifests itself in the strangest forms.” he finally spoke. He glanced out to the shack once more, musing to himself before adding, “Everyone cares for something. That is not to be mistaken. However, you may assume that what he holds in high regards can be mistaken for heartlessness.”
They sat for a moment, neither speaking nor looking at each other. Tom had no doubt that his future self would have already attacked Harry, even if he had Tom’s form. His hatred was manifested in this boy and this boy alone. But, Tom didn’t hate Harry Potter. He found him to be a minor annoyance and could understand his future hatred of the boy, but as of this moment he didn’t hate him. If anything, he felt a tug of curiosity. He wanted to know about him, explore the inner workings of his mind, and dismantle him one piece at a time.
“Had you encountered him, the man who was to become your greatest enemy, would you show him compassion? Would you not give into your hatred and destroy him before he had a chance to do that which in the future has been done?” Tom turned back to Harry, his cold eyes searching the boys face.
[/blockquote][/blockquote] TAGGING Harry Potter !
WORDS 450!
WEARING CLOTHES !
NOTES In the future I murder your parents, attempt to murder you, plague you every year you are at school, send people to try and kill you, try and kill your friends and loved ones and oh, yeah that one time I had Wormtail cut your arm to resurrect me. Do you want to be my friend? !
LYRICS BAD REPUTATION BY JOAN JETT !
CREDIT R A W R IT’S E M M A ! OF CAUTION ![/COLOR][/FONT] |
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Post by harryjamespotter on Sept 13, 2011 9:40:12 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] In the end you will realize finally, how are you saved? The Words: 525 The Outfit: here Tag Voldemort, Voldemort, ooh Voldy Voldy Voldy Voldemort! Harry blinked and looked at Tom curiously. What did hate have to do with..? No, it made sense. "Yeah, it is. I think it's one of the purest of human emotions--like fear. But that means it's also really easy to manipulate and twist. I just think it's something people should be really careful with." He slouched and looked down, thinking a moment. Hate was always one of those emotions people said were bad, and Harry supposed the were usually right. Even if someone acted on hatred and something good happened from it, what would they do then? Would they still feel hatred in their hearts and move on for another thing to funnel it into, one that could end up hurting a lot of innocent people?
Even though he knew an generally 'evil' emotion could come with a good end, it typically didn't stop there. But then that was how fear operated too, wasn't it? "No, definitely not," he said quickly, shaking his head. "I think he's short sighted and maybe a little selfish, but certainly not heartless. After all, if he didn't have a heart, how would he get oxygen to his brain?" he joked, smirking, the first bit of humor the two had seen in a long while. "But seriously, I really don't think he's a heartless person all in all."
Harry shrugged at this man's next question. He certainly was bringing up opinions and points the boy rarely ever heard, but somehow he couldn't complain--actually enjoyed it. It made him think, for it was so much different than what he was taught his entire life, and even if they ultimately would walk away in disagreement, Harry could tell he was a very, very smart person. "Well, for one thing, I can't say that I really hate him. Not yet, anyway--not the person he'd be...well, right now. I believe, though, if I encountered him, I would make an effort to...well, kill him. I think he's a little too powerful for your usual arrest and reprimanding," he admitted with a laugh.
"Iit wouldn't be to stop him from killing my parents, or because I think I'd ever enjoy killing someone, though." His tone returned to its serious nature. "He's already killed people, or had his followers kill people, and the future tells us that he won't stop there. Taking one life to save hundreds of others and, if you want to see it that way, avenge them too, seems rather logical to me. The idea is terrible, but I suppose he would've had to expect it at some point. Live by the sword, die by it as they say." |
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Post by laz on Sept 16, 2011 12:47:32 GMT -5
He didn’t think he was heartless. That should have told Tom something about Harry but, he mused that it said more about himself. He’d automatically assumed that the boy would think him a monster, for even he felt it sometimes. Tom wasn’t ashamed of it, in fact he reveled in it. It showed that Harry was smart. He knew that in order to do the things Voldemort had done he needed a heart. Only passion could have driven a person to such actions and you can’t have passion if there is no emotion. Tom leaned his arms back on the rock letting the snow land on his chest.
“I can’t say I really hate him. Not yet anyway.” Tom blinked. Now there was something he hadn’t expected. Where was the passion, Mister Potter? Where was the unbridled rage? Voldemort slew your parents, just that should have evoked some spark of detest. Add on the numerous attempts on his life, the slaughter of friends and family, and Harry should have been rampaging about how much he wanted to…
“I would make an effort to...well, kill him” there it was. Not exactly how Tom had envisioned it but, he had expected to hear it nonetheless. Harry Potter would have been a fool to say he’d spare him.
Tom chuckled softly with the boy. A reprimand in Azkaban was certainly not the answer. Even if they could get him there, Tom would never crack, never surrender. He was on a crusade and nothing was going to stand in his way. “Fifteen, eh?” Tom smirked, “Had my eyes been closed I would have mistaken you for an older man.” Harry Potter was different from what Tom had spent weeks speculating about. His future self called him a fool, an annoyance, and a fraud. But, that was anger talking. Tom, with about as level as a head as he’d ever had, found the boy to be wise beyond his years but, still naïve. He spoke of dispatching Voldemort like it would be simple. Like he would just lay down and die. He most certainly wouldn’t.
“I digress,” Tom’s pale blue eyes wandered back to Harry, “You shouldn’t be made to think of these things. Your mind must be cluttered enough without my musings. How are you finding 1976?”
[/blockquote][/blockquote] TAGGING Harry Potter !
WORDS 450!
WEARING CLOTHES !
NOTES In the future I murder your parents, attempt to murder you, plague you every year you are at school, send people to try and kill you, try and kill your friends and loved ones and oh, yeah that one time I had Wormtail cut your arm to resurrect me. Do you want to be my friend? !
LYRICS BAD REPUTATION BY JOAN JETT !
CREDIT R A W R IT’S E M M A ! OF CAUTION ![/COLOR][/FONT] |
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Post by harryjamespotter on Sept 24, 2011 6:35:58 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] In the end you will realize finally, how are you saved? The Words: 421 The Outfit: here Tag Voldemort, Voldemort, ooh Voldy Voldy Voldy Voldemort!
Harry snickered. "Don't let me fool you. I'm just as immature as the rest of 'em most of the time." Harry shook his head, not wanting the man to stop. Something about his words seemed familiar to Harry, as if they were those of someone he knew well, or perhaps they were the kind of thoughts that spun in Harry's mind when he was in a bad mood. "No, Tom, don't apologize. You're fine." Even if Tom's words were boring or irritating, it would be rude to agree. 'Yes, yes, please stop talking' certainly seemed unfair.
"Nineteen seventy-six is certainly an interesting year to find myself in. I think I mentioned this before, but I've met my mother, and that in and of itself has been quite rewarding. It's also interesting to immerse myself in a time that's usually been history for me, to meet people I know at a younger age--or the parents of people I know. What do you think, Tom? Do you think you'd like to go back in time and experience a different era than the one you were born in?"
It seemed like a silly question, but Harry was genuinely interested. Everyone had a favorite place or time in history, and that usually spoke a lot of their personalities. He tried to imagine what Tom's response would be, for the man was already proving himself rather introspective, but Harry couldn't quite pinpoint a time period that seemed to fit his personality.
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