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Voldemort stood on a cliff overlooking the sea with Harry sitting on the edge, swinging his legs. Harry peered up at him with an impish grin.
“Isn’t it about time you released me?” Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes against the anabatic winds that tousled his hair. “Why the long face, Tom? Does victory not taste as sweet as you imagined?”
“You’re sitting so precariously on the edge to spite me.”
“You’re the one who called me out here wherever here is. Is this cliff meant to be symbolic or something? Never pegged you as the sentimental sort.” Harry leaned forward, gazing below. “It’s a long fall from here.” He dropped a stone and watched it fall. “Very long.”
Voldemort’s fingers twitched. “Come away from there.”
Harry’s lips curled in amusement. “Worried for me, are you?”
“Stop taunting me and come away from there.” He bit his bottom lip. “Please.”
With a curious look, Harry obliged. “Tom, does saying ‘please’ in parseltongue make you feel better about saying the word? Nevertheless, I thought such words were outside of your vocabulary but I suppose you’ve no choice since what’re you going to do— kill me?”
Voldemort glared angrily. “Tom, Tom, Tom! Stop calling me Tom!”
“Touchy… getting a bit peckish eh?”
“I don’t eat.”
“Oh right, how could I have forgotten. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep… you don’t die. Done a real number on yourself.”
Voldemort turned his back on Harry, leaving him on the cliff.
*
“Missed me already?” Harry asked cheekily. He was sprawled on the soft ground, brushing his hand over the dandelions that began to grow atop the cliff. “That storm cloud looks like the Grim. It’ll rain soon. Don’t stand out in the rain, Tom. You still feel cold, don’t you? Or have you robbed yourself of that too?”
“I’m always cold.”
Harry’s eyes slid over him. His gaze was fire on ice. “That brings me joy.”
Voldemort remained standing under the raging storm long after Harry had gone.
*
“Change of scenery?” Harry asked as he cupped a handful of sand then watched it slip between his fingers. “This isn’t that creepy cave of inferi. You’ve got a thing for caves, don’t you? Perfect crypt for a dark lord.” But Voldemort wasn’t listening. He was knelt before a mound of stones. “Oh… this really is a crypt.” Harry knew at once whose bones were buried underneath the mound. He glanced over his shoulder, half expecting to see her, but no one. It was just Voldemort and his fey self. A smooth blue stone stood out to him in the sand. Harry gently placed it atop the mound. Only then did Voldemort’s dark bloody eyes focus on him. They seemed to hold a small bit of gratitude. “I found another word you’re incapable of saying.” Voldemort maintained his eerie silence as if it were sacred. Harry thought to leave, but hesitated. “The remnants of Slytherin’s locket lies in the Forest of Dean.”
Voldemort disapparated at once. When he returned, he placed the now repaired locket on the mound beside Harry’s blue stone. The locket was finally reunited with its owner.
*
Winter sharpened the scent of sea brine that wafted up the cliffside. He watched Harry stare at the mouth of the cave down below. Harry chose not to comment on it.
“When my father left, my mother took the train with no set destination. She ended up here, in Portloe. She found work salting fish from a fishmonger who in return sheltered her. Perhaps her search for the end of the world was what brought her to the cliffs. When she was heavy with me, she stood exactly where we are now and considered plummeting to her death. My magic was born before me and it pushed her away from the edge. I sometimes wondered if my malignant nature was born that day. She returned to London to give birth to me, hoping to deliver me as close to my father as possible, and named me after him so that I would one day find him. Neither of us are victims. Her infatuation ruined my father’s life and I delivered the final blow. I wonder if I made her proud.”
Harry looked Voldemort straight in the eyes. “She named you Tom because she loved you. That I know from Dumbledore’s pensieve. I’m not saying this to comfort you but I hope it brings your mother some peace. You’re her pride.”
*
Snowfall was rare in Portloe. Voldemort could tell Harry enjoyed watching the snowflakes drift down from the skies. He wondered if it ever snowed on the other side. He doubted it. Ever since he told Harry about his mother, he was mindful not to stray too close to the edge. How could one possess such a foolishly compassionate and impossibly generous heart… Such a soul could never survive long in this harsh world. He would’ve died young either way.
“So you’ve outlived them all, every single one of them. You haven’t aged a day since you were born out of your cauldron. I can’t begin to comprehend such an empty, soulless existence. What good is there standing all alone, being left behind. You’ve tragically robbed yourself of both life and death.”
“Maybe I wanted to see what I was made of, so I started a war. I don’t regret a thing.”
Harry turned to him then with an unreadable expression, face frozen in youth yet eyes far too weary. It was likely unpleasant being dragged back each time though Harry never complained.
“I don’t either. All the choices I made, I would do it again but if I could do just one thing differently that would be to give Snape a hug before he died. Poor guy needed it. Maybe all you ever needed was a hug too. Only problem with you is that you’d kill me before I ever got within ten feet of you.” Harry laughed. It sounded thin and far away despite him standing right beside him.
“Try me.”
He liked the way Harry’s lifeless eyes lit up with surprise. It made his blood race a little quicker. Harry stepped towards him, hesitantly lifting his arms. Just before Harry could embrace him, Voldemort dropped the resurrection stone to the ground.
A hug wouldn’t fix him— it would undo him.
*
They stood in the graveyard of Godric’s Hollow.
HARRY POTTER
31 JULY 1980
2 MAY 1998
From death to life
“You honored me with a grave.” His headstone was beside his parents.
“Does that surprise you?” There was a strange note of anticipation in Voldemort’s voice. Harry got the impression Voldemort meant for this to be some sort of special surprise. If he had a pulse, it would have stuttered. Loneliness truly does erode at a man.
“It’s not everyday you get to see your own grave,” Harry replied dryly.
“There was no funeral.”
“Good. I wouldn’t have wanted one anyway.”
“Honoring my greatest enemy with a grave seemed like the only proper thing to do. You were magic at your best.”
Harry’s eyes widened a fraction. “Tom, you’re your biggest enemy. Magic was just the nail in the coffin.” Dawn broke through the clouds, bathing Harry in an otherworldly glow. “Magic was the only thing you ever loved.”
Neither said another word.
*
It was inferno on earth.
“It’s been a while.” Harry gazed at the sea drenched in red. The sky was on fire. “Has it finally come to the end of the world?” Harry offered him a small smile. Maybe it was to taunt him or maybe it was sincere. Voldemort couldn’t truly tell. “Why the long face? Got no where else to run to?”
“Where else would I go. We’re at the end.”
“When Death beckons, even dark lords must heed his call. So much for immortality. I bet you thought you could outlive this world but I guess even Lord Voldemort has his limits against an apocalypse. So this is goodbye.” Harry fixed him under his somber gaze. “I remember being afraid too. Like you, I held onto that hallow. Looks like I’m the only one here for you.”
“I’ve done what I’ve done, seen the things that I’ve seen. You’re the only witness to my soul. There was only ever you.” That was the truth. Prophecies were not set in stone but he chose Harry. In all his long existence, Voldemort never knew another soul the way he knew Harry Potter. He outstretched his arm and held the resurrection stone over the cliff. “It’s time I release you.” They both knew it was long overdue.
The sky was falling.
“Goodbye, Tom.”
Fine. Only for you, I’ll be Tom.
He dropped the stone over the cliff and watched Harry vanish without a trace. He lamented the company by his side but he was ready for this inevitable calamity. This bit he would face alone as Harry once had long ago. He understood now, the part he played in it and the part Harry played in it, their tiny place in the fabric of the vast universe. That’s all they ever were, two intertwined threads snagged in the cloth.
“Goodbye.”
Only silence replied as the world frayed away out of existence. He once feared death’s eternal solitude but he was no longer afraid. He knew who would be waiting for him on the other side.
*
Tom had never been embraced before, never understood the simple concept of having two arms wrapped around him. Never understood the desire for such weakness. That was until Harry held him in his arms. Strange how such a simple, harmless gesture evoked such a visceral reaction within him. He released the breath he had been holding inside of himself all his existence.
“Hullo again, Tom.” Harry noticed how he no longer stiffened at his birth name. “See? All you needed was a hug.” Here in this forever land, he was no longer cold. “Sure kept me waiting,” Harry murmured against him. They stood in an endless field of white lilies. It was a long journey from death to life but he was here now, with Harry.