Chapter 65

The Point of No Return

"He wears the smell of blood and death like a perfume, there is fire in his eyes and ice in his veins, but you love him anyway. For he is a star, burning with the light of a thousand suns and your world is dark without him…"

October 31st 1981, Godric's Hollow.

That was when and where it all ended. The town was full of laughter and good cheer, despite the looming chill of an autumn night. Kids were wandering the streets, wearing silly costumes and carrying around jack-o-lantern shaped pails. They were completely unaware that danger was fast approaching from the darkness of the night. Just outside of town, a cloaked figure was sweeping through the trees, at a fairly slow pace. He could have flew directly to the residence he sought and made a dramatical entrance, but where was the fun in that? There was no need to be such a drama queen. The sudden appearance of Lord Voldemort in your home would cause fear and surprise, no matter what type of entrance he made. He had almost nearly arrived to the town of Godric's Hollow. Almost to Lily Potter and the boy, almost to victory. He would finally be able to kill the only thing with the power to stop him, thanks to Wormtail's foolishness and betrayal. If Ellyn and Peter were still alive, certainly they'd be ashamed that he had sold out his best friend out of fear.

Suddenly, there was the rustling of leaves, a great unnatural gust of wind and Voldemort's attention was drawn instantly to a nearby tree. There was a cloaked figure, like himself, peering out at him from behind it, as if it actually thought that would be a sufficient hiding place. Although, he couldn't see the figure's face using only his peripheries to glance, Voldemort knew exactly who this person was. She was technically neither friend nor foe to him. Another twenty-five years had passed between them and finally she was intending on revealing herself, to stop hiding behind Dumbledore like some perpetuate child. He didn't think this day would actually come, a day she showed herself of her own free will, until after he won the war. Naturally, Voldemort had to try and use the opportunity to persuade her to join him once again. It's true she's rather weak when it comes to matter of the heart, she lets her emotions control her far too often, but she's still a strong witch and the only one he found worthy to stay by his side. If drastic measures must be taken for that to happen, Voldemort was even inclined to just drag her off by force, use the Imperious Curse on her. He was honestly growing sick and tired of waiting for her to come around of her own accord. Tonight he planned on getting everything he wanted. Finally, he would have the perfect life that he deserved. Ultimate power, the Potter boy dead, victory in this war, true immortality and her…

"You can't hide from me." he stated, in her direction, removing the hood of his own cloak. He was one thing, but did she really foolishly thinking a mere cloak and tree were enough to conceal her presence from him? Although, something told him she wasn't actually trying to hide from him for once. She had wanted to be seen. Frankie stepped forward, removing the hood of her cloak to reveal her long hazel hair and stolen face. It was just like he had heard. Not a grey hair to be seen, or wrinkle upon her cheeks. She looked exactly like the girl in his memories. However, he would not dare let that sway him, like it did last time.

"Really? I think I've been doing a good job of it the past twenty-five years." she replied, dryly and a bit sarcastic. He laughed a little at the fact she finally learned how to use sarcasm.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be helplessly watch me kill all your friends from that well-fortified castle?"

"I know that Wormtail let Lily and James's location slip and I've come to stop you," Frankie explained, raising her wand at his face. Meanwhile, Voldemort was actually somewhat surprised and it was not because she was ready to attack him. It was the information she had. It was recent and between a certain number of people and himself. He didn't have the time to worry about a possible rat right now. There were far more important things he had to deal with, like the fact that the entire Order of the Phoenix could come popping in around them any moment. However, the night remained for the most part silent of any unnatural noises. If she had really told the order, they would all be here to try and stop him by now. Perhaps, she actually thought she could handle this alone. A rather misguided thought. The age may not affecting her appearance, but it sure was affecting her sanity. "I'd do anything to protect Harry, even if it means facing you again."

"Your words wound me, clever girl," Voldemort fake-pouted, clutching the spot where his heart would be, if he still really had one. He stopped the slightly mocking gesture and, in one giant step, he was only mere inches from her. Frankie unconsciously lowered her wand as he approached. However, she did not flinch at his distorted face that had struck fear in so many others, as it drew closer to her own. He gazed into her eyes, hoping she would show him an expression other than pure and utter loathing, "Why do you always insist on defying me?"

"Because you're a monster." she replied, simply and bitterly, a small crack in her voice.

"Most people don't think I'm a monster. For instance, Bellatrix Lestrange. I think she's rather fond of this version of me, unlike you," he reasoned, even though he knew that it was the truth. He was a monster. He just wanted to mention his most loyal follower's obvious affections for him to see how she'd react. A woman who accepted this version of him would certainly make Frankie guilty, if not a little jealous. Her face had slightly flinched at the mention of Bellatrix's name and his curled up with a taut, wicked smile, knowing the infinitesimal motion meant he was successful. "Jealous, much?"

"In your dreams. I would rather rot than be with a horrible creature like you." Frankie spat back at him, rather sternly and defensively. Her words would've probably somewhat stung if he could still feel properly. However, he stared at her impassive and unemotional.

"Come now, my dear. You keep saying things like that I might be forced to break you."

"Your threats do not frighten me in the slightest, Tom."

His emotionless expression faltered quickly at the call of his real name. It'd been years since someone had called him that to his face. Probably around twenty-five considering he hadn't seen either Frankie or Dumbledore after that night in 56' and they were the only ones who still dared to call him that.

"I see that both you and Dumbledore still insist on calling by that name, even though you claim that's not who I am anymore." Voldemort sneered, yet he still somehow managed to keep a relatively calm tone of voice.

"He told me that it infuriated you and I wish to make you angry." Frankie added.

"Do you really think that, just by getting me angry, I'll start treating you like everyone else and try to kill you?"

"That was what I was hoping for."

"If that's what you really wish, I of course will humor you." He bowed to her, signifying that he would honor her wishes and fight nobly against her. Frankie returned with a simple curtsey, out of respect and tradition. Then, they both raised their wands and begun to duel.

Although, both worked quickly on their feet, Voldemort was the first one to get a spell out. With a quick movement of his wand, he easily tossed a flurry of red sparks at Frankie. However, she managed to quickly produce a shield charm and the sparks merely faded away as they hit. She returned with a giant fireball, which he extinguished just as quickly. He was faster than she was. Which unfortunately was an extreme advantage. In the second she had to think about the next move, Voldemort had already cast his. Suddenly, the earth tumbled around her, sending bullet-like rocks towards her face. However, before they were able to do much harm, Frankie had lost her footing and slid down the slight slope that they were standing on. She fell into a slight shallow hole that had been hidden at the bottom and the leaves and sticks that had covered it showered over her. Odds are that it was probably a Halloween trick that had been left for some poor unsuspecting kid. In the momentary blunder, that had not really been her fault, she could hear Voldemort snickering at her.

"You've got to finish what you've begun, sweetheart."

Frankie scrambled out of the shallow hole, at the implication that she was running away from this battle. Her face was contorted with fury. She glared at Voldemort and hastily hit him with a hex in that second he allowed himself to be distracted. He tried to block it, but he wasn't fast enough and the spell surrounded him in a greenish vapor. Suddenly, his back became stuck to the nearest tree and the vapor formed a slithering snake over him, restraining him there. You'd think he would be finally properly angry at her for being able to immobilize him, struggling and hissing at her to let him go. However, Voldemort made no struggling efforts to escape.

"You aren't horrible." he simply stated. It was supposed to be a compliment. A compliment she might've found slightly charming and endearing, if he were still Tom. He rarely ever gave out compliments. However, Frankie stayed straight-faced and serious. She couldn't let anything he did or say distress her. Voldemort sighed at her continued resilience and, although he had generously complimented her handiwork, it really only took one hiss and the snake released him immediately. Frankie expression changed from serious to slightly bewildered. Since when was he a Parselmouth? Being able to talk to snakes was a power you were born with, it wasn't just something you could learn to do because you had a creepy snake obsession. Which meant, that this was something that Tom had kept from her. Even though it wasn't something that concerned her in anyway, she thought he would've bothered to tell her he had such a special power. It was another lie, another secret he'd kept.

"Well, I wasn't exactly sitting on my arse doing nothing while I was hiding away." she replied, trying to act slightly smug. However, truthfully she was amazed and intrigued by the sudden appearance of this special ability he had. A part of her wanted to question him about it, know all about it, and another was furious and wanted to shout at him.

"I didn't expect so," Voldemort remarked. "But surely you can't keep up with me forever. Remember, only the Potter boy is destined to have the power to kill me."

"Harry. His name is Harry," Frankie stated. Her voice was brittle, yet strong and clear. Voldemort was actually listening, maybe even a bit mesmerized. This was different than the fake front of blind hatred she had been putting up so far. It was real. Which made him scowl, because it was that boy she really cared about. She was really only here because she cared about that boy, "Remember his name, Tom, because one day he will be the one to stop you."

"Putting your faith in the hands of a child, that's rich," he scoffed, cruelly. It was honestly so stupid to care about a boy who was not her son, a child that was to be dead within the hour. What did she expect the one year old to kill him? It was a ridiculous notion. "Come now, I thought you were here wishing to save me too."

"I've wished for a lot of things, but it doesn't mean that I'm going to get any of them. We both know you can't just magically turn back into Tom—"

"Oh but I can." Voldemort interrupted, with a knowing smile. It wasn't like he wished to change back to how he used to be, but rest assured he could if he wanted too. Voldemort was the most powerful wizard in the world, there was hardly anything he could not do. Nowadays, he had the power to change his appearance at the drop of a hat. He waved his wand upon himself and red piercing eyes grew dark and cold again. His dark hair grew neatly back into place and his flesh regained the little color it once had, so he was now longer a sickly ghostly white, but his normal pale palette. Tom Riddle was back. In appearance only, though, "Indulge me. I wanted to hear your little speech to try and win me back. Also, every second you keep me here is a second I'm not killing the Potters. So, if I were you, I'd just do it and get it over with."

"Change back." Frankie stated, despite his demands. Her voice was wobbly and quivering in fear. She slowly backed away from him, obviously more frightened then she was of Voldemort, was the clear evidence that he was actually once Tom Riddle.

"Why? I thought you wanted me like this," Tom questioned, drawing closer to her as she kept backing away. Finally, he was getting a pleasant reaction out of her. She was cuter when she was truly, utterly frightened. "Such a superficial girl. I mean, really, all you ever cared about was my looks. What an awful person."

"You know that's not what this is about."

"How about a dance, then? Imperio!" Suddenly, before she could even comprehend the fact he used one of the Unforgivable Curses so nonchalantly, she became limp and dropped her wand to the ground. He recovered the remaining distance between them and pulled her into a waltz. Frankie tried to escaped, but her feet moved of their own accord. He looked down at her feet and laughed, "Promise to step on my foot?"

"Let me go." she hissed, with the little resilience she had left. She would stomp on his feet with all her might, if only she could control her own. Frankie felt unexpectedly dizzy, wanting nothing more than to just drop to the ground, but another part of her wanted to continue dancing with him. She kept trying to convince herself that it was only a trick, but in all honestly, it was starting to feel a little like a dream. A really good dream that she didn't want to end.

"Not till you admit how you really feel."

"I—don't know how I feel." Frankie replied, to the best of her ability. She was feeling a number of things for him right now, but mostly, she felt muddled. Not knowing whether he was inserting all these feelings into her mind through the curse, or if she was actually feeling them herself.

"Don't you?" Tom inquired, quizzically. "Ugh, you're too confused, when it is all so simple."

"What is?"

"All of this, this is all that irritating old man's fault, really. Dumbledore was the one who locked you away. He has kept you away from me all this time, made you blind and messed up your mind. He's made you into what he wants you to be, but I can set you free…"

Tom was looking down at her with a smile, which was actually not his normal taut or evil grin. His voice was honeyed and she knew that it could not be trusted. She had to stop herself from saying yes, like he was willing her to. The curse was strong, but she had to keep resisting. This wasn't real. He was just trying to take her away. It wouldn't stop him from killing someone dear to her.

"He never would use one of these foul curses on me to make me stay…" Frankie reasoned. She was regaining a little of her resilience back as she thought about Harry, Lily and James. If she just kept them in her mind, she'd be able to break it. She thought about thought about all of her friends, most dead now by his hand, of Dumbledore and Slughorn, whose fatherly protection had guided her, not caged her. Then, she thought about Tom. The real one, sitting under the tree by the lake with his face buried in a book he didn't really have interest in. "Why did you have to become like this? What happened to the real Tom Riddle?"

Tom stopped abruptly and looked down at her with a different expression. His eyes were no longer red, however, she still saw madness within them. The curse broke and her will was instantly returned to her. Frankie quickly backed away and grabbing her wand off the ground as she went, before he could stop her. However, he didn't even attempt to stop her. Tom just stood there, seemingly consumed by her questions. She didn't waste the opportunity, raising her wand to attack. Yet she stopped at the last second when she saw the look on his face.

"What happened to me? What happened to me?" Tom kept repeating, his expression looking so pitiful, almost possibly even sad. However, then it was immediately lost amongst madness and an insane maniacal laughter. Frankie had finally been able to touch the one little nerve he had left and make him properly angry. "You're what happened to me! You are the one who opened up my heart and then left me to bleed, the second it became too inconvenient, to scary and dark for you to handle. You turned away from me when I needed you the most. You're the one who caused all of this!"

She stared at him blankly, not expecting him to lash out at her with such a fury. What exactly was she supposed to say to his outburst? He pretty much blamed for her for his downward spiral into darkness and practically all his actions prior, including this war. He was waiting impatiently for an answer and it probably was best she answered him before he exploded with rage.

"You're right," Frankie agreed, too much of his surprise. Tom looked genuinely astonished. He clearly thought she would deny it. "I ignored the obvious darkness inside you. I always knew it was there. I always knew it was only going to get worst. If I had just stayed by your side, you probably wouldn't have turned into this horrible, pathetic creature, but I was afraid."

"You're the one who's pathetic."

"Being afraid of losing someone you love isn't pathetic," she replied, simply. He scoffed at the sappy statement. What a false ideal. Fear and love were both signs of weakness, she of all people should've been able to understand that. She let them run her life and it made her a weaker person, "You've always been afraid of losing me, which is why you are still so desperate to keep me with you even now. Your life is too dark without me."

"You're wrong. I don't need someone like you. I don't need anyone," he snapped back, in a stentorian yell. That wasn't what this was. She was so infuriating, why couldn't she understand? Although, speaking truthfully, he still didn't completely understand either. What was she to him now? Love was weakness, so he eliminated all traces of it. And yet she was the only thing in this life he truly loved and loved him in return. To be rid of these mixed feelings, did have to take her with him, or take her life? He had raised his wand at her in blind rage, but she merely stared back at him with cold and solemn eyes. Tom desperately searched for the splendor and happiness in her eyes, that sparkle they once had when she used looked at him, but it wasn't there. It was gone and he couldn't get it back no matter how desperately he tried. He had cut that connection with her a long time ago when he chose to be Voldemort. There wasn't actually a way to have both, the choice had always been one or the other. "I can kill you and it won't mean a thing to me."

"I understand," Frankie stated. She was smiling in her mind because smiling on the outside would be too dangerous for him. Finally, he understood that he had to let her go. Now, she would finally be able to do the same, "I've always intended on going down with the monster that I created."

They began dueling again, both a little more solemn and serious than last time. Frankie wasn't easily slipped up by his onslaught of spells. She put up a good fight, however, Voldemort was right. She couldn't keep up with him forever. They got locked in a more heated and serious battle. Spells flying in every direction. However, eventually, she slipped up. Voldemort sent a jet of blue light and Frankie was pushed back onto the ground, unable to block it in time. Realizing this was the opportune time to deliver the final strike, he quickly glided over and pointed his wand down at her. Frankie was lying there, wandless, defenseless, and expressionless. He thought it would frighten her, being this close to death, knowing that by losing she had failed the Potters and signed their death wish.

However, Frankie seemed rather calm. She didn't egg him on anymore, make any attempts to try and get her wand back, or get any last witty jabs at him before her inevitable end. She just laid there, staring at him blankly with those beautifully bright hazel eyes, waiting. He had a choice to withdraw his wand and let her go. However, then the battle would never end. It was clear Frankie intended on fighting him until death, even though she knew it was impossible to beat him.

"I love you…"

"I know..."

Frankie flashed one of her genuine smiles, despite her position, despite what he was about to do. She smiled at him because he knew that's what he loved the most about her. Never did he imagine that the strange girl he met in the orphanage garden when he was six years old would be lying on the ground before him several years later, smiling, and he would be pointing a wand at her throat, poised to kill her. And yet he still blamed her for all of this. It was her own fault for inserting herself into his life. If she hadn't been so keen to be his friend, if she hadn't entranced him with that smile and her kindness, they wouldn't be in this situation right now. They had both come so far together, but now she was in his way, no longer willing to be by his side. She had to die. He had kept it in the back of his mind for many years, knowing she would never follow him into darkness and, in the end, he would have to kill her for it. He allowed himself to examine her features one last time for his memories.

And in one green flash, she was gone.

Frankie hadn't closed her eyes and mentally prepare herself for death. She had decided to leave those famously colored eyes wide open for him to still be able to see those eyes he'd loved after she was gone. The ones he'd caught staring at him from the bushes several years ago. Although, like a seemingly kind and sentimental last act, it was horribly cruel of her. She had wanted to make him see the light leave her eyes, secretly knowing he would suffer when he did. His heart which was frozen, now burned with a heat that enveloped his insanity and he became filled with intense emotions he didn't understand. It was a sort of sick feeling, like when you dry swallow a huge pill and it tries to crawl back up your throat, or realizing you're falling down the stairs and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Was this what remorse felt like? Or was this pity? Or fury? Or anguish? He had to turn away from her body to push back most of these feelings he'd kept locked up inside for so long. Once he managed to contain all of them again and compose himself, Tom turned back to her,

"Idiot."

With that last sentiment, he turned himself back to Voldemort. He no longer had a reason to ever be Tom Riddle again and he wasn't exactly going to be able to strike fear in the Potters with his charming, handsome face still on. Voldemort was about to turn away again, when the faintest glimmer caught his eye. A dulled gold locket had fallen out of her blouse and was forcing him to look at her again. Voldemort tore the trinket from her neck and clasped it around his own. He still needed two more Horcruxes and it seemed to be a sufficient item. Normally, he'd been aiming for items of historical significance to the world. However, this had historical significance to him, like the diary. She probably wouldn't approve, especially considering she was not going to be the victim he made it with. He wasn't going to use her death in such a wretched way. But he still was going to honor her memory by giving the locket a piece of his soul. She would get whatever bit of Tom there was left and they would always be able to be together. He drew his hood once more and continued to walk towards the town of Godric's Hollow and the Potter house, like he hadn't even been stopped in the first place. Their story was finally over, yet he had to continue on without her, because their end was only the beginning of whole other story.

The End.

A/N: Well, that's like four years of my life I'll never get back. (haha, I kid) This fic is actually somewhat helped me get into college and I don't know what I'll do with my life now that it's over (probably work on spiffing up that secret collection of bonus stories I have about these two). Honestly, I wake up and go to school an hour early just so I can go to the library and work on this fic. It relaxes me when I can just sit down there and write, despite the fact I also stay up late working on it and am very sleep deprived. I just wanted to thank you all so much for reading my first fic ever. I really appreciate those who've been since me since chapter 1, day 1. When I started this, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. You've had to deal with my horrible grammar and spelling, before I spent that entire year editing everything (I mean I'm still awful, but it used to be a whole lot worst), and you guys are extra amazing for being able to endure that. Well, I guess that's all I have to say for now. I'll see you all around! Hope you decide to read some more of my stories in the future (and re-read this one, even though it might've made you really sad)