|The Realms of Fiction
Author: rosai-gryffindor PM
In this story fiction meets reality as Voldemort stumbles through a portal into a world that reveals his true nature. The trio follow closely and find themselves struggling through unforeseen realms as they attempt to hunt down and destroy his horcruxes.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor - Harry P. & Voldemort - Chapters: 5 - Words: 11,594 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 3 - Updated: 06-20-08 - Published: 10-01-07 - id: 3813306
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The First Discovery
Voldemort was feeling anxious again. He sat in his private potions lab deep underground, and rubbed his cool, bald head with his long bony fingers, trying to ease the feeling that he was becoming increasingly used to these days; the feeling that he is not in control of his life.
With an exasperated sigh he shook the feeling from his mind and taking out his wand, began trying out spells again. He was experimenting with the theory that there could be other worlds parallel alongside theirs, perhaps different time streams of their world, or maybe different worlds altogether, and was trying to find a way into them by magic. So far, he hadn't discovered anything, and had only accomplished feeling agitated and strange.
As he muttered different incantations, the ancient, muddy stonewalls of the dungeon began to glisten in the flashes of light coming from his magic. His eyes gleamed redder than ever on his pale face, and his shiny brow wrinkled in concentration.
Suddenly, something happened that was different from anything that had ever happened before. Out of his wand streamed a multicoloured, shimmering light, which shot off towards the far end of the dungeon, and disappeared into the darkness. This was followed by the whole dungeon beginning to tremble, causing the pieces of parchment, broken quills, and bottles full of disgusting, evil potions that were on the table and shelves to wobble and crash to the ground.
Voldemort, who never felt terror of course, clutched the table for support and with his free hand, wrapped his thick black robes around himself, cradling his wand to his lean body.
The shaking soon stopped, but was followed by the main wall of the dungeon going all smoky and distorted, as if he were looking through rough glass. Voldemort screwed up his eyes in discomfort, but opened them again quickly, so as not to miss what was happening. The wall had now gone transparent and pale, like the screen of a muggle computer; only Voldemort had never seen a computer before, so to him it was completely undescribable. It had also split itself into what looked like many windows, each showing a different location, most of which seemed to be reflections of his dungeon.
Noting that the tremors and changes had now stopped, Voldemort was overcome with greedy pride and curiosity. He stepped away from the table, and moved silently forwards towards the shimmering screen, and approached one of the windows, behind which seemed to be an exact reflection of the dungeon he himself was standing in.
He stopped about a step away from it, and cautiously put out a hand to touch it, expecting some sort of resistance. To his surprise, his bony fingers moved straight through it as if there was nothing there.
He could now see himself in the screen, standing opposite him and staring through slit like pupils, only Voldemort was sure that he didn't have that same expression of utter horror etched on his beautiful face.
Feeling smug, he stepped forwards, straight through the screen...and onto the other side, feeling as if he were stepping through a wall of warm, but dry, water.
To his surprise the other Voldemort, who he had thought was a reflection, didn't move with him, but stood frozen by the table, his expression now of anger as he glared at the figure of himself that had just walked through a screen into his private dungeon.
'Who are you? And what are you doing in my private dungeon?' demanded the reflection Voldemort.
Voldemort seethed with anger, causing his expression to match that of his double. 'Your dungeon? This is my dungeon, and I'm the most powerful, evil, darkest wizard in the world!' he replied in a loud and arrogant voice.
The reflection Voldemort, if possible, looked even angrier. 'But I'm the most powerful, evil, darkest wizard in the world. No one is as evil and nasty as me!' His look of anger was doubled up by a sulking pout, as if the idea of another more evil than him was upsetting. 'Anyway, this is my dungeon; I decorated it myself. Being hidden under Malfoy Manor is very convenient indeed.'
Voldemort frowned. Looking around the dungeon, he realised now that his double was right. Through the semi darkness he could see that the walls were painted green and had pink trimmings. His dungeon had been dirty and stony. And since when had his dungeon been below Malfoy Manor? He had lived beneath the Riddle house for ages now, the catacombs and tunnels were endless, providing many opportunities for doing evil deeds.
'Ah, well ok, maybe this isn't my dungeon after all... but I am the most evil, powerful, darkest wizard in the world, and nothing you can say can change that.' Voldemort looked at his double as if daring him to say otherwise, but the other Voldemort had lost interest in that particular battle for now.
'How did you get here?' the reflection Voldemort demanded with a frown. 'You're not in league with Harry Potter, are you?' This question seemed to suddenly bring him to his senses, and he sprang over to Voldemort, disarmed him, and held him at wand point against the grimy green wall.
Voldemort gulped, having been taken by surprise at this sudden attack, and eyed his double through blazing eyes. 'How dare you insult me by even suggesting that I am in league with Harry Potter!' he spat. 'Potter is a silly little boy with a load of luck that will one day run out. He is weak and icky and bleurgh! I would never work with him unless he was working for me.'
The reflection Voldemort relaxed a little, noting the disgust and anger in his captor's eyes, and also feeling slightly happy at the insults of Harry Potter. He lowered his wand, and Voldemort stepped away, snatching his wand back from his double.
'Thank you,' he snapped, in an indignant tone.
'Huh,' muttered the reflection Voldemort, followed by something that sounded like, 'most powerful wizard indeed, can't even defend himself when attacked'.
'What did you say?' hissed Voldemort sharply.
'Nothing…just commenting on how nice your nose is. It's a much better defined shape than mine. Very snakelike indeed.'
Voldemort smirked in the praise of his nose, even though he could see for himself that his double's nose was identical to his own. This other Voldemort seemed to know exactly what he would like to hear, and it was getting on his nerves.
'Well I'll be going now,' he said coolly. 'So I'll leave you to your evil plans. Only before I go, enlighten me as to what is going on in the wizarding world at the moment? I haven't been above ground in a while.' He asked this sneakily, trying to work out what sort of a parallel world this was.
'Well Arthur Weasley has just been nominated Minister for Magic, I am plotting to overthrow him right now, and that fool Dumbledore has formed an army of students to fort up at Hogwarts, whilst Harry Potter has gone off on his own to Merlin knows where trying to come after me.'
Voldemort tried not to be shocked at this news that was so utterly ridiculous to his ears. This other Voldemort hadn't even managed to kill Dumbledore yet. Well that just proved that he wasn't as good as himself. 'Very well,' he finished smugly. 'I wish you great evilness and the best of luck defeating Potter.' He gave a short inclination of the head to his double, before stepping back through the screen into his dungeon, concentrating on blocking the connection as he went. Then he turned to face the rest of the different screens with an even greater interest than before, and, choosing another, stepped through to investigate.