It’s nighttime. The moon is full as I walk up the dark path to Godric’s Hollow. Looking around, I seem to be the only living thing on the road. The curtains of the houses are all drawn, doors locked and then padlocked. Our world is living in dangerous times, and even more so at night. No-one wants to be caught outside on a full moon, not with werewolves and Inferi and Death Eaters on the loose.

I smile. It is nights like these that I live for. I drink in the scent of fear in the air. I am sure many wizards and witches are peeking out their windows, frightened of the one walking through their little village. Wondering whom he has come for. Do they know for certain who the one hidden beneath the dark hood and cloak is?

I neatly glide among the houses, barely glancing at the dark shutters. I know the address as well as my own name. And what a name it is! Not even Salazar Slytherin himself was able to instill so much fear with just the mention of a name. Lord Voldemort. I love the sound of the title as I say it.

The prophecy I was informed of by my loyal servant Severus Snape no longer worries me. In a few minutes I will be rid of it once and for all. The boy who can kill me, who can ruin my precious immortality, lives on this street and will soon be dead. I have no doubt in my powers.

Thanks to the traitorous Peter Pettigrew, I know the exact address of the Potters. They have long been resistant to me and my followers. This night will teach them a lesson they will never forget. They tried to escape, but by now everyone knows that one cannot hide from Lord Voldemort. All they can do is run, and not even the strongest can run forever and not be caught.

I see the house and walk up the pathway leading to their door. I feel the pressure of countless eyes watching me as I draw my wand and whisper a spell. The lock slides back and the door silently opens, allowing me access to a pitch-black room. I light my wand and look around. It’s a small living room, though it hardly looks lived in. The only furniture is two armchairs and a spindly table in the middle. They’re packed and ready to leave at the shortest notice.

I smile coldly. I’m expected.

There isn’t anyone downstairs, so I go up to the second floor. I see a light on under the door at the end of the hall. The Potters obviously aren’t careful enough. The door is locked, but that will be remedied easily enough.

I wait. Soon, footsteps approach the door. I tense, wand ready for whichever Potter comes through. A foot slowly steps out, then the rest of the person.

It’s James. James Potter! What a pleasant surprise, I tell myself. I watch as he says something to his wife, then backs out and turns around. I throw back my hood.

He sees me instantly. Well, it’s a bit hard not to notice me; with my snake-like nose, scarlet eyes, and pale skin, I’m not exactly easy to miss. I smile at him, fingering my wand. His eyes shoot down to it, and I see it in his eyes. He knows what I’ve come for.

He backs into the room again and slams the door. I hear his voice inside. “Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off —� He sounds very frightened. I hear a baby crying, and my body tenses in anticipation. I have delayed long enough.

I smash through the door. A woman screams. Lily Potter. I look around the room. It’s a small bedroom, with no furniture but a crib at the opposite end from me. I know without a doubt he is in there.

Lily and James are standing by the crib. Lily is hovering protectively over it, but James just watches me nervously, wand at the ready. “Go, Lily!� he shouts again. I notice a door leading to another room from Harry’s bedroom. Lily picks up Harry and runs through it. She slams and locks the door, and I watch, making sure not to betray the slightest emotion through my eyes.

I walk unhurriedly toward James. He backs away for every step I take, and soon I have him cornered. “I — I know why you’re here!� he says shakily, never taking his eyes off my face. “But — you can’t have him! I won’t let you go in there —�

I chuckle coldly. “Do you honestly think I care at all for you and your wife?� I say. “If you step aside, and allow me to have him without you putting up a struggle, I may have mercy.� I hate the word, and sneer as I say it. If he believes I will really give him mercy after killing his precious son, he is a greater fool than I thought.

He hesitates, then something in him seems to harden. “Mercy!� he spits out. “Mercy! Did you give the Prewetts mercy? Did you give the Longbottoms mercy? Whatever you call mercy, I want no part in it. You won’t get Lily and Harry while I still live!�

He opens his mouth and lifts his wand to perform a spell, but I am much faster. How much chance did he ever have against the greatest sorcerer in the world, anyway?

“Avada Kedavra!�

His body falls silently to the ground. His wand rolls from his limp hand. I immediately walk over to it and grind it into the floor with my heel. It breaks with a shrieking, dying sound. I kick it back to James Potter’s corpse, whose glassy eyes stare up at me accusingly. I feel no guilt or regret. I don’t even know what those emotions feel like. I only feel a cold ruthlessness as I step over his body toward the locked door he died guarding. He was in my way. He was an obstacle, keeping me from my goal of immortality. And, as everyone knows, obstacles must be removed.

I glide to the door and blast it off its hinges. It’s a small, bare room, with nothing inside it but a threadbare rug and a small chair. And Lily. She is sitting on the chair, clutching baby Harry to herself in a vain attempt to protect him from the man who has just stepped through her door.

I look down at her. She scrambles up, leaving Harry on the seat, but shielding him behind her. She knows, too. How long have the Potters been waiting for this night? They’ve obviously been expecting me for a long time, maybe even months. Dumbledore must have told them about the prophecy, the prophecy made over a year ago. If I were them, I’d be afraid, too.

“The one born with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…�

Unfortunately, after reporting this prophecy to me, Severus Snape told me that he hadn’t heard the entire prophecy. He was caught eavesdropping and thrown out before hearing the end. Oh well. I had the information I needed; after hearing Snape’s report, all I had to do was find the one who would somehow be able to defeat me. It took over a year to find him, though. Two babies met these requirements, so I was forced to choose the one I thought most likely to rise against me someday. Neville Longbottom didn’t seem to be the one. He was too weak, and I doubted it would be a pureblood who would gain enough power to kill me. So I chose Harry Potter, a one-year-old boy. A half-blood, like myself, but I had already proven that half-bloods could rise to extraordinary heights. Potter was definitely the one.

I look at her, and she shrinks back. “No... No, not Harry, please, not Harry!�

“Stand aside, you silly girl,� I say coldly. “If you value your life, step away from the boy... stand aside, now...�

She’s nearly hysterical, but looking into her large green eyes I see she knows exactly what she’s saying. “Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead —� she pleads. She refuses to stand aside.

I push her away and stride to Harry, looking down at him. His mother steps in front me, wand forgotten in the desperation of trying to save her child. “Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy...�

There’s that word again. I scoff. Why should I bother with mercy when my powers are at stake? Does she think I’m stupid? Mercy never got anyone anywhere.

But I tell her the same thing I told her husband, that I will spare her if she stands aside. The foolish woman resists. She steps closer to the chair, trying to shield her precious baby.

I smile. I point my wand. And I kill her.

She drops soundlessly to the rug. She never even had the chance to cry out. She’s dead before she hits the ground. Her shining red hair floats in the slight breeze her falling body created.

I feel nothing for her. My heart is raw and cold as I turn to face the boy. Harry. I despise the name, despise everything about the wide-eyed toddler staring up at me, who began to cry when he saw his mother fall. He isn’t crying anymore. Instead he’s staring up at me, with a strangely intense look in his eyes. One-year-olds cannot understand anything, I remind myself. But still he just stares, gazing at me as though on the brink of his destiny. As if he knows what I’m about to do. But of course he doesn’t. Such a young child cannot be expected to understand the concept of death. My mind is playing tricks on me.

Eyes stare up at me. I’m momentarily caught by those eyes. Wide, green eyes, exactly like Lily’s. His black hair, and his face, are his father’s, but he has his mother’s eyes. How odd that I should notice something like that at such a crucial moment.

I shake myself, slightly unnerved, but force myself not to care. It is an art I’ve perfected over the years. A cold, hard mask slides over my face.

Harry Potter is as good as dead. I will now be able to live forever, with this final hurdle gone. I revel in the thought of an eternity of fear.

A smile lifts my lips. A chilling smile, but a smile nonetheless. I’ve won. No matter what anybody says or does, from now on, I’ve beaten them all. I’ve beaten the Ministry. I’ve beaten the prophecy. I’ve beaten death.

I laugh cruelly, happier than I can ever remember being. I point my wand and, caught up in the triumph of the moment, I shout the words.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!�

A beam of fatal green light shoots from my wand and hits the baby squarely in the forehead. He screams loudly and begins to cry, but all the curse seems to do is slash his head with a jagged cut. What happened?

Then I see it. The green light, gathering itself back up. For some reason its first attack did not work, so now it’s getting ready to reflect itself back at the nearest target.

Me.

I have no time to dodge or block it. As if in slow motion I see the light get closer and closer until it flies straight into my chest. Then something was happening to my body. It shuddered, trying to shake off the curse; but it couldn’t. I hear an explosion, a huge explosion, all around me, as the energy from the spell shoots back out and destroys the house I’m in.

I scream. Agony, agony... The world disappears, melts into flashing colors. The pain is everywhere... I feel like I’m being ripped to pieces. My body and soul are torn apart, and the body seems to fade away. The pain is everywhere... I don’t remember who I am, where I am, what I was supposed to be doing before this terrible agony...

I’m dying; I just know it. My pain-filled self is hurtling down a dark tunnel. There is no light, like everyone always says. There is just blackness, and the overwhelming pain. I’m dying, dying... I grab onto my strength like a rope, but the rope is slowly unwinding, and it is becoming harder and harder to hold on.

Then, suddenly, I smash into a wall. The tunnel does not want me. I wonder why, then realize: my experiments have worked. I have been separated from Death. It does not want someone like me, someone without only a speck of soul, of a human consciousness.

I want to crow with triumph. Though Harry Potter still lives, so do I. Death is no longer a threat to me. Despite the pain that lingers, I smile. Harry may be alive, but so is the one he was supposed to kill. I still have a chance. I have reached my goal of immortality.

I remember my identity. I am the Dark Lord Voldemort, scourge of both the Wizarding and Muggle world. I am the most powerful sorcerer ever to exist. I am the one... who has a purpose yet to fulfill. I know without a doubt that I will one day rise again. Back to my powers, back to my full strength. Better than my full strength. And when that day comes... Harry Potter will have to watch out. Lord Voldemort cannot die. He will never be rid of me. Never.

I turn and slowly begin the long climb back into Life.