Death Never Stopped Me Before

|Chapter 7|

Voldemort slammed the book shut with a frustrated growl, the loud noise echoing against the silent walls of the mildly destroyed library. Out of the corner of his eye, Voldemort could see the mudblood flinch at the loud, unexpected noise, but Voldemort paid her no mind. They'd been searching for hours, and they had still found nothing! Voldemort was seriously starting to lose his patience, not that he had much to begin with.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to force himself to calm down, but it was no use. The anger had bubbled up in his chest and was threatening to spill out and in order to stop himself from blowing up the entire library in his ire, Voldemort turned to address the two traitors.

"Three days." he snarled, relishing their fear-filled gaze. "It has been three days and you have nothing. Nothing!"

"It will take time," Granger said firmly. Although there was much to hate about her, one thing that Voldemort, loathe he was to admit it, admired about the mudblood was her refusal to back down, even when she was afraid. "Everything we're doing is theoretical. There's no precedent!"

"I didn't bring you here for theoretical," Voldemort snapped. "I brought you here to get answers!"

"We're trying!" she cried. "We haven't slept! We barely eat! We are doing everything we can to find the answer we need! But we need more time!"

"WE DON'T HAVE TIME!" Voldemort yelled, slamming his fist against the wall when a strong burst of rage traveled through him, his outburst causing the bookshelf next to him to rock. Granger and Weasley were frozen, their eyes wide with terror at Voldemort's outburst. He breathed in deeply, forcing himself to calm down before he simply said 'to hell with it' and killed everyone in sight. "We don't have time." he repeated, softer this time as resignation coursed through him.

There wasn't much time left and Voldemort was starting to lose himself without Harry, he could feel it. It had been almost two weeks since the battle of Hogwarts—two weeks since Harry...—and while Voldemort didn't know much about the art of Necromancy and the science of bringing back the dead, but he did know that his window was closing. Voldemort had preserved Harry's body but if his soul had crossed over it might be too late to bring him back.

The mere thought of living without Harry sent waves of grief through his body, making his already overwhelmed mind break further under the strain of emotions, something that Voldemort was not used to. He had only just begun to accept and confront his emotions with the help of his lover, before Harry Voldemort had always compartmentalized, and quickly after, Horcruxes took care of the problem for him.

It was a little sad to realize that this was the first time Voldemort's soul had been completely whole in several decades, yet the one person he wanted to share it with wasn't here.

"I swear we are doing everything we can..." Granger said softly, cautiously approaching him the way one would a wounded animal. The sight of her eyes—the unbearable, horrific pity—made Voldemort snarl and back away from her, his hand automatically reaching for his wand. Granger paused where she stood, slowly nodding her head before backing away. "We just need a little more time."

Once again the request filled Voldemort with rage, the grief and resignation from earlier long gone. Voldemort hissed at her, the rollercoaster of emotions overwhelming him and giving him whiplash. "There. Is. No. Time." he said carefully, his tone laced with fury. "Find it now or die."

"This nuts!" Weasley exploded, causing Voldemort and Graner to look at him with equally incredulous expressions.

"Ron..." Granger said, her eyes flitting between Voldemort's carefully blank gaze and her blood traitor's tomato-red face.