If Voldemort were the type of man to experience emotions such as love, or even affection, this moment might be more surreal than it already was. It might be filled with heartfelt emotions, and a reunion both impossible yet taking place nonetheless. It might be the start of something wonderful, new, and splendid, where he discovered a bit about himself and chose to give up the path of immortality courtesy of his new outlook on life.
Of course, Voldemort was not the type of man to experience emotions such as love or affection, and he wasn't about to become one simply because the woman who had pushed him from her womb turned up on his doorstep. In fact, there was a definitive rage burning within him at this slip of a creature who had given him life, yet seen fit to do so alongside a filthy Muggle. He didn't strike out at her, however, but instead waited. He was curious, above all else, and if he killed her right now he'd be left with nothing but that curiosity for the rest of his life.
So he kept his anger in check as he slowly turned to face her fully, faint amusement twisting his lipless mouth as she spoke.
"Do I?" he murmured. His wand was in his hand, then, although he didn't aim it at her. Instead he continued to speak and simply held the slim piece of wood between his fingers. "Allow me, if you will, to tell you a small tale. It begins with a witch of the purest of blood, who fancied herself in love with... someone her lesser."
The term 'Muggle', of course, couldn't be uttered. Not with Bellatrix still within earshot. That just wouldn't do. Still, unphased, he continued with his story.
"Eventually, through a great amount of cunning that would make her ancestors quite proud, she managed to get the man she chose into her bed." His eyes were focused solely on his mother as he spoke, pinning her with a look that dared her to turn from him.
"It wasn't long after, of course, that she found herself with child." It was then that he raised his wand, his story stopping as he began to paint letters in the air in front of the hearth.
TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE
The letters hovered, crimson and sizzling, as his finished with a simple, "She named her for his father, as well as her own." The letters began to move then, zipping around as they rearranged into something else entirely.
I AM LORD VOLDEMORT
"Although he later opted for a new name. A name that others would someday fear to speak, fear as much as they feared the wizard himself." The letters disappeared into thin air, and Voldemort smoothly returned his wand to his robes. "And became the man you see standing before you. The most powerful wizard the world has known, and the heir to Salazar Slytherin himself."
It was then that he stepped toward her, his much taller form seeming to tower over her as he hissed out in a low tone, "Do allow me to say what a pleasure it is to meet you... mother."