Who Am I?

He was flying. It was natural to him, like how it felt to walk, or to run. A great city lay spread out under him. The glow of the many lights of the city resembled fireflies, twinkling merrily against the darkness of the night. He dived down towards the city, speeding up as he searched for his destination. Soon, he neared a skyscraper which had a big globe on top of it, on which the words “Daily Planet” were inscribed, on a metal ring surrounding it. Instinctively, he knew that he had reached his destination. He landed smoothly on top of the building. She was waiting for him. She looked beautiful, as always, her eyes glittering in the moonlight as she rushed towards him. Her embrace was warm and comforting. They separated, ever so slowly, and then her face tilted upwards, her beautiful red lips reaching his…….

He was awake. Gradually, his senses came back to him. He was in a dimly lit, high-ceilinged room. The room was of the medieval type, which struck him as odd; the only sources of light were torches which burned brightly. He would call this place a dungeon, if he didn’t know better. His arms and legs were encased in steel chains. A man was standing in front of him. He was indistinct at first, but then he came closer; he saw a pale white face, hairless, with piercing red eyes and slits for nostrils. The man had a gaunt, skeletal body, and was dressed in long, flowing black robes. Spidery like fingers caressed a long, thin, stick like object, which the man then proceeded to point at him. The man’s lipless mouth curled into a smile. He counted six other men behind the man, who were similarly robed and who were each holding a similar stick like object. However, the faces of these men were hidden by white, skeletal masks.

The leader spoke,” I am Lord Voldemort. In this world, I am all- powerful. I will ask the questions, and you will give the answers. If you do as I say, your life will be spared. Act otherwise, and your death will come quickly, but not before you have experienced pain beyond your imagination.”

“Who are you?”

“I don’t remember.”

Voldemort raised the stick like object.

“Crucio.”

Before he could begin to wonder what would happen, he was hit by pain; tremendous, all consuming. He felt like he was being burnt in a thousand fires. As he reeled in agony, he realised that he had, in his past, felt pain greater than this. A scene came to his mind’s eye:

He was lying face first into the ground. Somehow, from within himself, he summoned up enough energy to sit up. Standing before him was a man. They were in an island which seemed to have been made out of crystals. The man smiled as he brought a shard of crystal close to his face. It was green, shimmering. This crystal was danger, he thought. He had to get out of here. The man kept smiling as he stabbed him with the crystal shard. He screamed like he had never before. He would rather die than undergo this pain. He got up; he had to get away from this man. He took a few steps backwards and then-he was falling…..

He was jolted back into the present. The pain had stopped.

“That was just a taste, my friend. This is just the beginning of what is to come if you don’t co-operate.”

“Now, where is Harry Potter?”

He had never heard that name. He had no idea.

“I don’t know.”

Voldemort smirked,” A little more persuasion is required, I see.”

“Legilimens!”

Neither he nor Voldemort was prepared for what happened next. The prisoner was expecting more pain; but he felt nothing but the smallest of vibrations before images started to flash before him, like advertisements on a television.

He was in his room at the orphanage, how he hated it here; he knew that he was special…..

He was sorted into Slytherin…he felt oddly satisfied ….

He was academically very brilliant, soon becoming Prefect of his House…collecting a band of loyal friends..he preferred followers…who fawned on him…they would make good servants…

He craved power, and immortality….he was fascinated by the concept of Horcruxes….

With the help of his Potions Master, he now knew how to make them……the fact that he would have to kill to create even a single Horcrux did not bother him…..it was merely a means for his rise to power…….

All through, he knew that Dumbledore disliked him, was suspicious of him………the only person who could see him for who he was………so Dumbledore was dangerous……..

He created his first Horcrux by killing his muggle father, who had abandoned him…….

Soon he had six more of them, hence making up the most powerful magical number……..seven…….

The Diary………Slytherin’s Locket…………Hufflepuff’s Cup-which was now in the vault of his faithful servants, The Lestranges………..The Ring……..still in the House of Gaunt……….Rowena Ravenclaw’s Tiara……..which was in the Room of Requirement……….and his beloved Nagini………….who had kept him alive when he was so near Death’s door…………

And then he had heard of the Prophecy that had started it all………….he was at the height of his powers………yet there was someone who was destined to defeat him……………born at the end of july……….there were two candidates…………he chose the half-blood like himself…………..Harry Potter…………that was the child whom he had to kill…………….

The Potters tried to hide……with the Fidelius……..but they were deceived……….their Secret Keeper was one of his followers……….he turned up one night………the charm broken…………killing the parents was easy………they didn’t put up a fight……..how could they……..they had trusted the traitor……….the mother begged him to spare Harry’s life, to kill her instead………..he had grown impatient and was more than happy to do so………..then he pointed his wand at the child very carefully……….

“Avada Kedavra!”

And then he broke……… He was nothing, nothing but pain and terror, and he

must hide himself, not here in the rubble of the ruined house, where the child

was trapped and screaming, but far away……. far away………

He roamed the earth like a ghost……..for thirteen years………..none of his followers came for him……..and then, Wormtail showed……….the traitor….the whimpering, pathetic man who had no will of his own……..assistance was welcome,regardless of the source………

He was elated…….his plan had worked……….Harry Potter lay bound and helpless in front of him………tied to his muggle father’s tombstone………as he admired his new body…….created using the boy’s own blood………..his Death Eaters were back to his side………he would kill the boy now, as a mark of his triumphant resurrection……….

He was angered….he had underestimated the boy…………who was brave and stubborn like his father………Potter had succeeded in getting away……….however, another plan came to his mind as he explored the mental connection he shared with Potter………He lured Potter to the Ministry……….using his godfather as bait………so that he could obtain the prophecy……..this plan failed too……Potter was saved by Dumbledore………that old fool……..

So he decided to kill Albus Dumbledore………he gave Draco Malfoy the job……..although he knew that if something went wrong, Severus, his faithful spy, would ensure that the plan did not fail……he was successful at last…….Dumbledore, one of the biggest obstacles in his path, was dead……..soon after he captured the Ministry of Magic…………and disposed of Arthur Weasley, one of the blood traitors who was close to Harry Potter……….he had tried to torture information about Potter out of Weasley……..but he was loyal to Potter till the end………

Hogwarts fell before him……….his Death Eaters took the place by storm………Severus was now the Headmaster of the school……………he had used the power of the Ministry to form the Blood Status Law……..now only those who were pure of blood could obtain magical education………the mudblood filth were captured and imprisoned………..his plans for the muggles had finally come to fruition………..after his giants and followers had crushed whatever pathetic resistance they offered, they were packed off to concentration camps………..where they worked till they were dead………..

The Light side…………..in a desperate last stand, engaged his forces in Diagon Alley a year ago…………he was victorious……….he had finished off Alastor Moody, the famous Auror, in an absorbing duel……….and his followers had ended the challenge of the Weasley twins……….only a few left that battle alive……….but none were willing to stand up to him………….choosing, indeed, to flee the country…………

Severus found the Spell of the Rising……he was exultant……he could finally extend his power to other realms………..he would create history……….and then, Potter had risen from the ashes……..his pathetic Death Eaters had allowed Potter to break the Spell………once again, Potter had proven to be a thorn in his side……..His anger knew no bounds………..Lucius Malfoy had paid for his blunder with his life………..he was killed in front of his son……….to send a message to his Death Eaters……….no more mistakes like these would be tolerated………..

Suddenly, the images stopped and the prisoner was pulled out of Voldemort’s mind. It was too much for him, the memories, the killings, the torture this man had inflicted on innocent people. There were many things which the prisoner did not understand, magic which he did not know of, sights he had never seen before; but amongst all this, one thing was clear as crystal. Voldemort was a murderer;an evil, sadistic monster who had to be stopped. He looked up-Voldemort had got over his surprise and an expression of rage set into his features; he raised his wand, no doubt to kill him. The prisoner knew that he had to get out of there. He strained his arms and legs; the steel chains broke away as if they were nothing but air-he dodged Voldemort’s curse; it moved past him almost in slow motion, as if someone had slowed time down. The Death Eaters raised their wands, but before they could cast a spell, he was out of the room. He speeded up the stairs as fast as he could. There were Death Eaters in the hall; they appeared to be frozen in place as he flashed past them; he headed straight for the door; which was torn off its hinges by the sheer momentum of his motion.

He kept running, not stopping until he had left his pursuers far behind. He found himself in a forest; it was silent and nobody but the animals seemed to be there. He decided to rest there for the night; he had so many questions, and so few answers. He needed to know more….a lot more. He didn’t know his name, where he was from, and how he ended up in Voldemort’s lair. He knew where he could find the answers. One name kept repeating itself in his mind…….Harry Potter. He had to find Harry Potter.