The Little One with Green Eyes

37: Death?

-November 27, 1991-
Three days. Three whole days. Three whole days with the irritating being that refused to leave him alone. Three whole days of non stop bickering and vague responses, all of which threatened to drive Voldemort completely insane. Despite his best efforts, the nameless being refused to leave Voldemort's side, and continued to speak to him, despite knowing that no one else could see him!

The being had at first agreed to research with him, but after three hours of Voldemort reading and unhelpful remarks from the nameless being, Voldemort came to the conclusion that the being was not actually going to help him. If anything, the being was hindering Voldemort's research.

Whenever Voldemort would come across anything that seemed even remotely helpful, the being would interject with sarcastic comments that caused Voldemort to grind his teeth together.

"You mentioned you were of divinity?" Voldemort had asked, four hours into their impromptu research session---one that was occurring at five in the morning, and Voldemort had already been up all night, so he was incredibly irritable.

"Yes." The response was curt and offered Voldemort no insight into what the being was thinking.

"There are several types of Divinity," Voldemort prompted. "Are you of a magical descent? Muggle?"

"You're right. I forgot. I am a muggle god appearing to you, a wizard, with the intention of declaring war against your race. Your gods and my kind shall fight to the death."

Voldemort scowled. "Your sarcasm is not appreciated."

"Really? I thought it was fantastic."

Voldemort sighed. "Are you actually going to help me?" he asked, lifting his head from the book that he was reading to meet the gaze of the nameless being currently leaning against his bookshelf. He was looking at Voldemort with an irritatingly smug grin. At some point during the four hours that they'd been together, he had shifted from the female form to the form of a stout middle-aged man.

"Where's the fun in that?" he asked, tilting his head to display the mousy brown mustache resting above his thin lips.

"The fun would be getting to know new information so I can go to sleep." Voldemort said with a frown. "And hopefully, find a way to get rid of you."

The being pouted. "That's mean! If you're so sleepy, I can fix that for you!"

"Oh? Pray tell."

The being suddenly stood up and began to approach him. Voldemort, fearing yet another display of affection from the being, leaned back, away from the approaching figure. The being held out his hand and pressed his pointer finger against Voldemort's temple.

Suddenly, all the fatigue that Voldemort had been feeling for the past few hours was gone. Feeling refreshed, yet incredibly confused, Voldemort looked up at the being. "What did you do?" he asked curiously.

"I removed your fatigue. Do you feel better, my Dear?" the being asked him.

"I do..." Voldemort said suspiciously. "Why would you do that?"

"That's what friends do for each other!" the being responded happily.

That was three days ago, and Voldemort found himself growing quite tired of the being and his confusing take on what 'friendship' was. After the being removed his fatigue, they continued to research (read: Voldemort researched, the being was altogether a nuisance) until Little One awoke and barged in the room.

The second Little One entered, the being disappeared. Voldemprt let out an audible sigh of relief when the being's icy presence disappeared. Voldemort spent the day with his son and his son's adoptive duckling Larry, ignoring the lurking presence of Greyback somewhere on the grounds, and allowed himself to relax.