Miss Holmes, A Harry Potter Fan fiction

Chapter 29: Voldemort

My mind raced into overdrive, trying to come up with an answer. How could he have known my Mother? They wouldn't have been anywhere close to being in the same school year, or even close enough to be friends, so what was the explanation?
I needed answers. It had been seconds since I had heard the simple statement yet the yearning feeling was there- the feeling of dark desire that so often overcame me. In those moments I embodied a Slytherin more than ever- I knew what I wanted and was willing to do anything to get it.
Yet when a dark chuckle came from across the room, I knew I'd slipped up. In that moment of hesitation my occlumency shields had weakened and a new presence lingered in my thoughts. I was able to push the intruder out with great force but it was already too late.

"Yet you are nothing like her, it seems. She was a cowardly weak child who ran at the sight of danger. But you? You have potential. I see the darkness inside you, you fear it yet the temptation clutches you- I can feel it."
Paranoia whipped through my mind palace like a tornado, scattering the books, my memories and composure. I could only stare back at him, desperately trying to keep a neutral face and mask the storm behind my eyes.

"Do your care to explain?" I said, despite trying to sound nonchalant yet the mocking the syllables sounded too stressed on my tongue.

"Your Mother, Corona Holmes, was meant to be everything you are- after all she had the blood of both Ravenclaw and Slytherin- how could she not be the effortless genius who craved knowledge and power? Yet even when she was a few years old it was clear she would never amount to anything. She had ran away at the age of 11 and lived the rest of her life in hiding."

Everything seemed to fall into place.
The words of warning from the sorting hat, my personal traits, the book of magical heritage, even the small things like the words from the Ravenclaw knocker.

"So you are the one the sorting hat spoke of them? The Grandfather on my Mother's side of the family."

This seemed to bring him slight amusement.
I decided to continue despite myself, I knew it was unwise to tell anything to Voldemort, no matter how insignificant it seemed. I wanted more information yet I couldn't stop myself.
"The hat told me that other than my intelligence I took after two members of my family equally- my Father and you."
He seemed to ponder this information for a moment before continuing.
"I hear from Quirrell that you have taken a rather fond liking for the dark arts. That the books you have been reading have been getting darker and darker in content."

It was true.
The books in the library had no dark magic as they could be accessed by anyone and even the restricted section seemed tame now. I couldn't find anything in there that really excited me anymore. Recently I had found that the room of requirement couldn't conjure specific dark books but could turn into a room of abandoned objects- something I had taken full advantage of. People hardly wanted to dispose of anything innocent.

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.
"There are far darker books here at Hogwarts. I left a collection of books here, along with several other dark objects. I had no need for them when I left, I had mastered all of the spells contained in them. Hopefully you will find them as useful as I did."

I knew what he was doing, if he came back to full power I would be a very useful ally to have- especially if I mastered those spells.
Yet we both knew the temptation was too great for me.

A cruel smirk grew on Voldemort's face- he was fully aware of this.
"Just past Salazar's portrait in the dungeons a small snake is carved into the wall, simply speaking parseltounge will reveal the entrance."
I thought for a second, could I speak parseltounge? I hadn't really had the opportunity to discover it naturally and I had no reason to suspect I could.
Though if my biological grandfather was a descendent of Slytherin..?
A twisted sense of power crept through me, an importance and potential I was not aware that was akin to an awakening.
I liked it.

Yet whilst I once again been lost in my head I failed to notice the singular pair of approaching footsteps. One pair? Where had the other two? The traps weren't that difficult, were they?

Yet I stepped aside, back into the shadows. I knew this wasn't my fight- and even if it was it wouldn't be beneficial to side against either.
Voldemort had clearly be paying more attention than I had an the turban was re-secured around his face.

"You!" Gasped a surprised Harry. Clearly he hadn't taken my warning seriously and was expecting Snape, not Quirrell.

Their predictable introductions gave me ample time to ponder the revelations of the evening.
My grandfather was Voldemort. I wonder what Dumbledore would think if he found out? Or did he already know? I certainly wasn't going to tell him.
And what of the ring I had, that coat of arms didn't belong to the Gaunts, the most recent descendants of Slytherin, so it couldn't belong to my Mother. It must be my Father's ring.

"LIAR!" Harry shouted suddenly, the evil face of Voldemort looming over him, red eyes flashing manically.

Harry stumbled backwards, hand clutched to his scarred forehead. Yet Quirrell recoiled as he touched Harry, the skin on his hands looking painfully red and burned.

The voice of Voldemort hissed from behind,
"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" The harsh shriek pierced through the room as Quirrell stumbled to draw his wand and raised his hand to perform the deadly curse.
Harry reacted instantly, reaching up and grabbing his face. Quirrell keeled over in agony.
"KILL HIM!"
Yet Quirrell was fading and Voldemort with him.
Of course he he would be back- that was inevitable. But for now he was gone.

Crash!
Harry had blacked out on the stone staircase, bruised and slightly bloody, but nonetheless alive.
Bending down I went to lift Harry back to the hospital wing...but...
A small shiny stone lay clutched in his hand. The Philosopher's Stone. I picked up the stone and simply admired it. Imagine how much more powerful this stone could make me. Being immortal would give me so much more time.

"You are fascinated by the power of the stone, Miss Holmes?" The steady voice of Dumbledore pulled me back to the room.
I caught his gaze before glancing back at the floor like a guilty child with their hand in the cookie jar.

"It is not wrong to want power." He started, approaching me. I noticed him looking at Harry, concerned, but he continued to talk.
"But for Tom Riddle it became an obsession. He sank so deeply into the dark arts that he was contorted beyond all recognition. He strives to gain immortality, for he thinks that there is nothing a person can face that is worse than death. His failure to understand that there are worse things that can happen to a person is his greatest weakness and was his downfall last time."

He paused for a moment. Not in thought, but waiting for me to think his words over.
"I'm no Voldemort." I replied in a steady voice.
'Not yet' my conscience jibed snidely.
"I'm aware. But you certainly have the potential to be, we are both aware of that. Just remember that you will have to make a choice one day between what is right and what is easy."
And with that Dumbledore flicked his wand, conjuring a stretcher beneath Harry and walked back towards the castle.

A/N: Heyyy guys (if anyone is still here). I hope you enjoyed, I know it's been absolutely ages since the last chapter was posted. I'll try and get another chapter up soon but we all know how that goes.
Please vote if you enjoyed the chapter :)