![]() ![]() He had certainly never planned on making it quick, but Potter doesn’t have to know that. “I was planning on a neat, swift affair, but you always did have to make things difficult,” Voldemort comments. Potter attacks right as Voldemort gets into the swing of his monologue. “It’s been very good of you to stay alive all this time for me. “Hello, Harry Potter,” he says, and flicks up a quick shield. Voldemort is pleased that Potter remembers. ![]() His stance is defensive: his left arm is flung out to the side, and his right is levelling his wand at Voldemort’s chest. He blows the door open with a wave of sheer power. So he continues up the stairs, towards the sound of rustling in the same room where he had confronted Lily Potter and her son so many years ago. The faint tremble of his fingers is excitement. There should be no reason to be nervous, even if he will be particularly careful, because Potter is now living in his late parents’ house and that brings up unpleasant memories. He continues up the little cobblestone path and blasts down the front door. He picks at Potter’s wards, and then he gets impatient and just tears through them directly. He’s still angry about it, but the fire of it has cooled into a glacial inevitability. This time it will be a death worthy of such a nuisance, as well, because Voldemort has had three years to think about how to go about the execution. Harry Potter should be… twenty or twenty-one, now. It’s almost nostalgic, following the same path that he did all those years ago, at the same time of night. Death could not hold him, of course, it had only been a matter of time. ![]() Triumph running through his new veins, Voldemort glides up the quaint, narrow road through Godric’s Hollow. ![]()
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