RP: Voldemort
Who: Lord Voldemort Where: Wherever it is he lives When: January 6th, 2025 Rating/Warnings: Summary: Voldemort doubts.
The day have been an utter disaster. A complete and utter disaster. Potter should be dead. He should have a new horcrux. And Potter's body should be the first inferii of a new army of darkness. But everything went wrong.
"What happened!" He yelled at the phoenix-core wand laying on the table. Why wasn't Potter dead? He paced back and forth, as he had done for hours. Stopping only to punch the wall or kick a conjured-chair or otherwise scream at the empty, spartan house.
They had met in the cave. HIS CAVE. That was now likely inaccessible. But that was a matter for another time. Harry dodged several curses. OK, whatever. We all get lucky from time to time. Then their spells met halfway. They were encased in a golden cage with bands of light and phoenix song. And then the little bitch appeared. And told how she died to Potter. He had been so foolish to speak so brazenly about what he was doing to the children and why. Now Potter knew. And so would Dumbledore.
Potter! Why wasn't he dead? Is this was what happened in attempts past? He grabbed his scalp, pulling several hairs out in the process. What made that cage? And why couldn't he break the connection? Is this how the Elder Wand protects its master? But history didn't talk about this happening at the final duel at Hogwarts. But then he had been using the Elder Wand at the time and not Potter.
Or does the killing curse not work on Potter? Would it also not work on his sons? He needed to figure this out. Was his wand useless? The wand made of yew with a phoenix-feather core that had served him so well all these years. It couldn't be useless. It just couldn't be!