Categories > Books > Harry Potter
Admirable Love
0 reviewsOne-shot! Voldemort was not only fighting Harry's parents on the night of their murders, but also some warring emotions within himself as well... (SLIGHT HBP SPOILERS)
2Insightful
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or anything related to it.
SUMMARY: While I don't think that Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was my favorite book in the series, one of the things I did like about the book was the insight into Voldemort, especially his past. After thinking about things, I finally got the idea for this fic. Here's one explanation for why Voldemort told Lily to step aside, offering her the chance to live...
NOTE: This takes place the night Harry's parents were murdered and when Voldemort was blasted out of his body.
/"Admirable Love,"/
By Quillian
Voldemort descended upon the home of the Potters, almost as silent, eerie and frightening as Death itself.
He was sure that the magical wards tied to the house had gone off by now, but it didn't matter to him; besides, he wanted to confront the Potters face to face, so he could actually see them die by his own hand.
With the protection of the Fidelius Charm now worthless, Voldemort barged his way in. With his goal so near, the self-styled Dark Lord almost gleefully burst his way through the house's defenses.
Just before the final protective ward fell, he could hear the brave James Potter telling Lily Potter to take their son and run. He was so close to killing that blasted prophesized boy, Harry Potter, once and for all...
But even as he barged his way in, he felt something stirring deep inside him... something he dreaded...
Love...
James Potter loved his son to the point where he was willing to die for him. Voldemort's father didn't even care for his son, and took off well before he was even born.
Rage boiled inside Voldemort like magma in an underground volcanic chamber, just urging to be unleashed. As he crossed the threshold, he threw a few dark and painful curses just to toy with the senior Potter, until he finally got up fed with it and simply threw a Killing Curse at him, simply ending it right then and there.
Throwing a last disdainful glare at James Potter's lifeless and motionless body, he stalked after Lily Potter.
Voldemort swept into the room where Lily was clutching her infant son protectively, but the love he felt within him, for his own mother, who was now long-dead, threatened him. That one good emotion threatened all the evil inside him which he fed upon, the same way light threatens shadows with making them retreat and disappear.
His negative emotions fueled his darkness, and the darkness fueled him in return. Like some sort of evil, twisted food chain, it was how it worked for him and kept him going.
And for Voldemort to allow this light, this love to break the chain was inconceivable.
The Heir of Slytherin was so frustrated that he didn't even bother with fighting Lily Potter, who now placed Harry in his crib and stood protectively in front of her son against him.
The figurative magma now became figurative lava, as Voldemort thought of his own mother who simply gave up on him and died, not thinking about her son who would become an orphan. He was so angry at that moment he couldn't see straight, let alone even think straight. He demanded for Lily Potter to stand aside, too frustrated to even utter the incantation for a Killing Curse. He just kept thinking about his mother who obviously must not have loved her son that much to just die of a broken heart, thinking she had nothing and no one left to live for. Didn't her own son count!?
For a brief, fleeting moment, he even admired Lily Potter's love for her son, and envied Harry Potter for having such a loyal, caring, devoted, strong-willed and loving mother...
And with a roar of rage, trying to do anything to bash those thoughts from his head, Voldemort fired off a Killing Curse, killing her instantly and on the spot.
Panting heavily, Voldemort berated himself for feeling such things, such as jealousy for example. To feel such things would mean weakness, and he could not afford to be weak. He - Voldemort, the Dark Lord and the Heir of Slytherin - could not be weak, and was not weak, and would never be weak.
It took a moment for Voldemort to finally remember why he was there, and upon remembering, he immediately turned to see a wailing infant Harry Potter.
With a high, cold laugh, he savored the moment as he made to end his personal mission once and for all.
It looked as though young Harry Potter would be with his family again... just not in this physical realm of life.
Voldemort raised his wand, and then...
"Avada Kedavra!"
A/N: So, how was that? Personally, ever since reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets/, I always wondered if Voldemort was somehow /jealous of Harry of having parents who loved him and cared for him.
Hope you all enjoyed that! Please be sure to be on the lookout for my other fics which I'll be working on and updating, Harry Potter or otherwise! -Quillian
SUMMARY: While I don't think that Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was my favorite book in the series, one of the things I did like about the book was the insight into Voldemort, especially his past. After thinking about things, I finally got the idea for this fic. Here's one explanation for why Voldemort told Lily to step aside, offering her the chance to live...
NOTE: This takes place the night Harry's parents were murdered and when Voldemort was blasted out of his body.
/"Admirable Love,"/
By Quillian
Voldemort descended upon the home of the Potters, almost as silent, eerie and frightening as Death itself.
He was sure that the magical wards tied to the house had gone off by now, but it didn't matter to him; besides, he wanted to confront the Potters face to face, so he could actually see them die by his own hand.
With the protection of the Fidelius Charm now worthless, Voldemort barged his way in. With his goal so near, the self-styled Dark Lord almost gleefully burst his way through the house's defenses.
Just before the final protective ward fell, he could hear the brave James Potter telling Lily Potter to take their son and run. He was so close to killing that blasted prophesized boy, Harry Potter, once and for all...
But even as he barged his way in, he felt something stirring deep inside him... something he dreaded...
Love...
James Potter loved his son to the point where he was willing to die for him. Voldemort's father didn't even care for his son, and took off well before he was even born.
Rage boiled inside Voldemort like magma in an underground volcanic chamber, just urging to be unleashed. As he crossed the threshold, he threw a few dark and painful curses just to toy with the senior Potter, until he finally got up fed with it and simply threw a Killing Curse at him, simply ending it right then and there.
Throwing a last disdainful glare at James Potter's lifeless and motionless body, he stalked after Lily Potter.
Voldemort swept into the room where Lily was clutching her infant son protectively, but the love he felt within him, for his own mother, who was now long-dead, threatened him. That one good emotion threatened all the evil inside him which he fed upon, the same way light threatens shadows with making them retreat and disappear.
His negative emotions fueled his darkness, and the darkness fueled him in return. Like some sort of evil, twisted food chain, it was how it worked for him and kept him going.
And for Voldemort to allow this light, this love to break the chain was inconceivable.
The Heir of Slytherin was so frustrated that he didn't even bother with fighting Lily Potter, who now placed Harry in his crib and stood protectively in front of her son against him.
The figurative magma now became figurative lava, as Voldemort thought of his own mother who simply gave up on him and died, not thinking about her son who would become an orphan. He was so angry at that moment he couldn't see straight, let alone even think straight. He demanded for Lily Potter to stand aside, too frustrated to even utter the incantation for a Killing Curse. He just kept thinking about his mother who obviously must not have loved her son that much to just die of a broken heart, thinking she had nothing and no one left to live for. Didn't her own son count!?
For a brief, fleeting moment, he even admired Lily Potter's love for her son, and envied Harry Potter for having such a loyal, caring, devoted, strong-willed and loving mother...
And with a roar of rage, trying to do anything to bash those thoughts from his head, Voldemort fired off a Killing Curse, killing her instantly and on the spot.
Panting heavily, Voldemort berated himself for feeling such things, such as jealousy for example. To feel such things would mean weakness, and he could not afford to be weak. He - Voldemort, the Dark Lord and the Heir of Slytherin - could not be weak, and was not weak, and would never be weak.
It took a moment for Voldemort to finally remember why he was there, and upon remembering, he immediately turned to see a wailing infant Harry Potter.
With a high, cold laugh, he savored the moment as he made to end his personal mission once and for all.
It looked as though young Harry Potter would be with his family again... just not in this physical realm of life.
Voldemort raised his wand, and then...
"Avada Kedavra!"
A/N: So, how was that? Personally, ever since reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets/, I always wondered if Voldemort was somehow /jealous of Harry of having parents who loved him and cared for him.
Hope you all enjoyed that! Please be sure to be on the lookout for my other fics which I'll be working on and updating, Harry Potter or otherwise! -Quillian
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