Yo! I wrote this in kind of a weird way. Basically, I wrote all the dialogue first. There was absolutely nothing other than what was in between quotation marks, not even things like, 'he said, she said, asked this person, that person did this'. It was literally just dialogue. Afterwards, I went back to the beginning and started adding everything else in. Why did I write it like that? I was bored and was waiting for my phone to charge. No real warnings in this other than it being a Fem!Harry fic, and the pairing. I guess it's slightly AUish too, but not in a way that's super important. This is also a oneshot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...

"I blame Malfoy for this."

"I believe I do as well."

"Great, so now that we've got that covered, what do we do?"

"There is nothing to do besides wait. The door cannot be opened from the inside, magic or not."

"So we're stuck in here until someone lets us out?"

"Yes."

"Oh." With a heavy sigh, Violet slid down to the stone floor, her back to the wall, and her knees drawn up to her chest. There really wasn't much space in here. She'd be able to stretch out a little if she was alone, but not only was she not, the person she was locked in here with would probably kill her if she accidentally touched him, so it was better to not even try.

"What are you doing here anyway? Did the foolish old man send you to try to kill me again?"

"Yep, got it in one."

"What a pointless endeavour. You cannot kill that which cannot be killed."

Violet heard Voldemort sigh softly, and there was a shifting of fabric as he too lowered to the floor, obviously unwilling to stay on his feet for who even knew how much longer. "So you are immortal! I've been thinking that for a while, but no one ever took me seriously."

"Why not?" asked Voldemort, although he didn't sound all that interested in the answer.

"They all kept telling me that it's impossible to become immortal," said Violet with a shrug.

"Impossible? No, immortality is a very achievable goal, Potter. You simply have to know what to do."

"I know that, but apparently common sense isn't really all that common anymore."

"How do they believe I survived the killing curse rebounding back on me?"

Violet shrugged again, vaguely this time. "Lack of love?"

"Lack of-what? How would lacking love have saved me?" questioned Voldemort, his voice filled with disbelief. "Surely lacking love would have killed me, if we were to use Dumbledore's asinine logic?"

"Yeah, well, Dumbledore also says love is the answer to everything." She wasn't sure if Voldemort heard the bitterness in her voice, but she certainly did.

"Everything?"

"Everything," Violet confirmed with a nod.

"Then the reason I had heartburn yesterday, despite not having eaten anything spicy is-"

"Love."

"And the reason for this morning's freak snow storm?"

"Love."

"Draco deciding to cast the trip jinx on a statue?"

"Well that one's just plain idiocy, but Dumbledore would explain it as love too, I suppose," said Violet. This was...a strange conversation. Or more like it was a simple conversation that had taken a strange turn. There was...almost a tone of amusement in Voldemort's voice.

"What a strange old man."

"Yep. ...Hey, Voldemort?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"Why did you decide to become a Dark Lord?" Violet asked curiously. It was a question that had been on her mind for a long time now, years, really, but she'd never actually had the chance to ask. Not that she normally even would have, considering Voldemort was always trying to kill her when they ended up near each other.

"Decide?" Voldemort repeated, frowning. "I did not decide to become a Dark Lord. I was declared a Dark Lord."

Violet blinked, a little surprised by the answer. "Declared? So you didn't actually want to be a Dark Lord?"

"Not particularly, no. It certainly wasn't a specific goal of mine."

"Oh." That was actually kind of weird. But it also sort of made sense. How many people out there went on in life with the specific goal to take over the world or whatever? "So it's something that just...ended up happening?"

"Essentially."

"...Did it bother you when people started calling you a Dark Lord?" After all, Violet hated all the things the public called her. She didn't care for titles and labels like this. Wasn't having people call you the Dark Lord the same thing?

"Not really. By that point in time it was completely warranted."

Yeah, that made sense. If he was already doing bad things, and considering everyone had already seen a Dark Lord before him, they'd probably thought it only made sense to call him one too. But that only left her with another question in mind. "What did you want? What were you after then? Before all the Dark Lord stuff?"

"What were my goals before I started being called the Dark Lord?"

"Yeah."

"I was after many things. I wanted power and knowledge, first and foremost. I wished to use that power to spread my knowledge to all. Men, women, children, magical creatures-everyone. I...also wanted to show that being a dark wizard or a dark creature did not automatically make one evil."

There was something strange in his voice there, an odd emotion Violet couldn't put her finger on. The fact that Voldemort had hesitated slightly in his answer was odd enough, but the tone of his voice...

"I...guess that kind of backfired." She winced, not having intended for her voice to come out in a bit of a deadpan. She cleared her throat. "Why didn't you just go through the Ministry? You were smart, and young, and charming, and attractive, and well spoken-it would have been so easy for you to accomplish what you wanted."

"Truthfully? I became...addicted to the dark arts. Dark magic isn't bad on its own, but it is a powerful brand of magic, and as someone who sought power, learning and casting more and more incredibly powerful and dark spells was...beyond enticing. It was almost arousing. I quickly grew addicted to these feelings. It didn't help that I did something very...very dark at the time, that only made things worse. I was losing my humanity, and falling deeper into the dark arts. It made me lose sight of my true goals. All I could think about was gaining more power. Power, and immortality."

Violet was kind of surprised he'd even answered her, let alone told her the truth. He spoke calmly, but his voice rose in hesitation every now and then. It was strange, Violet thought, to hear Voldemort speaking so...normally. It made him seem more human than she'd ever seen or heard him be before. At least in real life.

"You said you were losing your humanity, right?" she said after a moment. "Is that why you sort of went...insane?"

"Yes, it is."

"Oh."

"You sound surprised."

"I didn't think you'd admit it that freely."

He shrugged elegantly. "What point is there in denying it? You have already witnessed me at my weakest point, and now we are locked together in a closet of all things."

Violet sighed, but nodded, understanding. Still, the more they talked, the more questions she had that she wanted to ask. He hadn't seemed angry or upset about anything else she had asked yet, so she asked something else that was on her mind. "Why did you put so much stock in a prophecy of all things?" Violet hated divination, and at least with what she'd learned at Hogwarts, it seemed like it was all fake anyway, or self-fulfilling, at the most. So why?

But Voldemort answered that too, his voice calm and firm. "Desperation. I did not wish to die. I still do not wish to die. There is a reason I made myself immortal. Is that something you can understand?"

Slowly, Violet shook her head. "Not really. I...I've always sort of been the opposite," she admitted. "I feel like immortality would be a curse, you know? Why would I want to live forever? I never even expected to live as long as I already have."

"I see. I did not expect a child to understand, but you can't be blamed for that." He didn't sound bothered though.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Voldemort."

"...No, I suppose you aren't," he said quietly.

There was a long silence. Violet, eyes adjusted to the darkness, looked around, but there wasn't much to see. It was a normal potions storeroom-a small closest filled with various potion ingredients. That was why they couldn't use magic-it wouldn't react well with the ingredients and would probably cause them great harm, and also blow the whole building up. Yeah, they didn't want that. There was also the fact that they just couldn't use magic in here in the first place, even if they wanted to.

Violet let her head fall back against the stone wall with a thunk. "I really hate being locked in small places like this."

"Oh?"

"I spent an entire decade having a cupboard as a bedroom," she said more to herself than the Dark Lord. "You'd think I'd be used to this by now."

"Something like this..." Voldemort hesitated slightly, then continued. "It is one of those things you never truly get used to, regardless of how you think or feel about it."

"You-oh, shoot." One of Violet's feet slipped, kicking out and knocking into Voldemort. "Sorry, my leg fell asleep," she said quickly. "You sound like you're speaking from experience."

"It's fine, and I am."

Wait, did he really not mind that she'd accidentally touched him? That was...also pretty weird. Was he feeling alright? This entire situation was just getting weirder and weirder. "You've-you've been locked in a cupboard before?" she asked instead. It was probably better not to draw attention to anything else right now.

"I was," said Voldemort. His voice lowered slightly, and if it had been a bit brighter, Violet would have seen the discomfort on his face. "I did not have a cupboard as a bedroom, but... The matron tended to lock unruly children in the broom cupboard when she wasn't in the mood to deal with us. It was only ever for a few hours at a time-a day at most, but..."

Violet flexed her leg slightly, and nodded to herself, understanding completely. "Being locked in a cupboard is being locked in a cupboard." It didn't matter how long you were locked inside for. The darkness, the small space, the smell, the muffled sounds-it was almost always overwhelming, whether you had to deal with it for a minute, or an hour, or a day. Violet knew that first hand, and it looked like Voldemort did too.

"Yes."

"I kind of want to kill Malfoy for this," said Violet a little harshly. After all, it was his fault that they were currently locked in here.

"I will be the one doing the killing, but I will allow you the first shot."

She blinked. "Wow, how generous of you."

"I live to please."

"...Was that sarcasm?"

"I have emotions, Potter."

Violet blinked again, then sighed. "Yeah, I guess you do." There was another long silence. Things really were just getting weirder. And the strangest part of it all was that even though it was Voldemort she was locked in here with, Violet could only find herself feeling glad that she wasn't alone right now. Then she hissed out a curse as a rush of pain ran through one of her legs. "...Gah, I seriously have to stretch my legs-they're really starting to hurt."

"Go on, then."

"Thanks." Carefully, she stretched both of her legs out. She wasn't sure how exactly Voldemort was sitting, but she didn't end up touching him, from what she could tell. "Oh, that's so much better," she said with a sigh of relief, feeling the cramp she hadn't realized she'd had disappear. She hesitated, then said, "Are you alright? It must be way more cramped for you."

"I am fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Taking his word for it, even though she was sure he was probably lying, Violet changed the subject. "Hey, so I couldn't help but notice that you seem a lot more, er, sane than usual. How'd that happen?"

"I'm surprised you noticed."

"It's pretty hard not to."

"I...regained some of my humanity," said Voldemort slowly.

Violet cocked her head. "Some?"

"Regaining all of it will make me mortal again, and I have no desire to give up my immortality," said Voldemort plainly.

"Oh. So regaining some humanity made you at least somewhat sane again?"

"Yes."

"It must be kind of weird dealing with emotions again," said Violet.

"It is...strange," Voldemort admitted. "I spent a very long time without them, so having them back so suddenly feels odd."

"I can imagine." Violet looked around the dark cupboard, debating with herself. She had another question in mind, but this was one she had no idea whether she actually wanted to risk asking or not. It wasn't that she thought he was going to get mad or anything, she just wasn't sure what the answer would be. "...Do you regret anything you did?"

"Regret...? That is a bold question to ask someone like me, Potter." said Voldemort, sounding a little amused.

"Is it? I figured it's way less bold than asking you if you regretted killing my parents."

"Ah, I suppose that is true."

Violet waited, and when Voldemort said nothing else, asked, "Are you going to answer?"

"Do you actually wish to hear the answer?"

She winced. If he was saying this, then she definitely didn't want to hear it. She already knew what he would say-what his answer would be. It was obvious, and she wasn't sure if she was bothered by it or not. "Probably not."

"Then you already know the answer."

Violet sighed softly. "...Yeah."

"Why do you fight, Potter?" asked Voldemort abruptly. "Why do you throw your life away time and time again for the old man? Why do you obey him without question?"

Violet opened her mouth to speak, but closed it just a second later, a frown crossing her face. "...You know," she said slowly, "I don't even have an answer for any of those."

"No?"

"I guess I...never really thought about it," said Violet, her frown deepening. "Why am I doing this? Why do I keep doing it even when I know there's no point? Even when I know Dumbledore doesn't listen to me or care about me?"

"You have realized that much but never questioned any of this? You have allowed yourself to become his puppet."

"I...I guess I have." And realizing that, understanding that, was like a blow to the gut.

"Is that what you want?" Voldemort asked her. "To be the old man's puppet until one of us manages to kill the other? Do you wish to spend the rest of your life blindly obeying his orders and falling for his manipulations?"

Violet looked away, even though it was unlikely that Voldemort could even see her face in the darkness. "I don't...really know what I want."

There was a slightly awkward pause, before Voldemort said, "...Earlier, you said that you never expected to live for as long as you have. Is that why you never questioned any of this?"

"Probably, yeah," said Violet with a sigh. "I guess I just...I dunno, I just thought I'd have already died by now." It wasn't like she'd wanted to die or anything, it was just that, with the way her life had been going, surviving for as long as she had was something that had always just seemed so incredibly unlikely.

"By my hand?"

"Yours, or the Dursleys."

"Your relatives? ...Have they done more than simply lock you away in a cupboard?" Voldemort actually sounded curious now, curious but also slightly hesitant.

"Yeah, yeah, a lot more," Violet confessed. "None of it good. The cupboard...that was probably the best part of it all. And sure, I've got magic, and they're scared of it, but it's kind of hard to fight back when the Ministry's just waiting for you to mess up so they can crucify you. The Dursleys also found out that I couldn't use magic outside of school, so that didn't help either. And then there was the time the Order thought it would be a good idea to threaten them," she added, growing annoyed just by remembering it.

"I take it it did not end well?" Voldemort asked pleasantly.

"Not for me, no." With another sigh, Violet shook her head, pushing those thoughts and memories away. "...Well, that's all said and done now. I left their house a while ago and never have to go back. At least that's one good thing that comes out of finally becoming a legal adult. I figure you probably felt the same when it came to getting out of the orphanage."

"Yes, I did. ...Did you never tell Dumbledore what your relatives were doing?"

"Of course I did. He just thought I was exaggerating. Plus, being there was supposedly keeping me safe from you, so it felt like I didn't have much of a choice."

"I see. I...tended to go ignored as well."

Why was this happening? Why were they locked in here? Why were they talking like this? Why were they asking each other these things? Why were they telling each other these things? Violet didn't understand it, and wasn't sure she even wanted to. Even if she asked, would finding out the answer even be worth it?

"Voldemort?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"Do you still want to kill me?" asked Violet. "I mean, we've been locked in here for a while, and even if we can't use magic, you're physically bigger and stronger than me. Killing me would be a pretty easy thing, I would think. Why haven't you tried anything?"

There was a long silence, before Voldemort sighed and said, "Are you truly my enemy, Potter?"

"Huh...?"

"Do you truly wish to fight me?"

"...Not really," said Violet slowly, wondering where this was going and why he was asking her this.

"Are you opposed to my goals?"

She blinked. "If...if your goals are what they were before you went insane, then no. If your goals are what everyone's saying they are, then yes."

"Regaining my humanity, and my sanity, has allowed me to also regain my desire for my previous goals."

Violet hesitated, allowed herself a moment to think, then made her decision and said, "I-I don't really want to stop you if that's the case. Those are good goals. Those are things that I want too. I want everyone to be equal-especially Muggleborns and magical creatures. And I want to learn more magic too. I don't even care if it's light, or dark, or in between-I just want to learn magic. ...You seem surprised."

Voldemort chuckled softly, and the sound actually was one of amusement, oddly enough. "Your words have just made me recall that that was how I felt when I first entered the wizarding world. My desire was to learn magic. It seems I lost sight of that simple desire as well."

"Yeah...I guess I did too," said Violet softly. "I wonder how things got so complicated? We wanted something so simple, and it ended up turning into something we couldn't even remember we wanted until now."

Voldemort shook his head. "How it happened does not matter," he said. "What matters is that we remember, and now that we remember, it is something we must not lose sight of again." He paused when Violet began to laugh. "...You find this amusing?"

Now Violet was the one shaking her head. "No, not this, but this-being locked in here with you, sitting in here with you, talking to you. I feel like I'm talking to a good friend. It's baffling, but it's also weirdly comforting."

"Yes, it-it is strange, isn't it? I thought I was the only one feeling it, but...it is..."

"Nice?" Violet offered.

"...Yes."

"I wonder how much longer we'll be in here for?"

"I cannot say," said Voldemort with a shrug. "It will depend on whether Draco has enough sense to inform someone of what happened."

"...We're gonna be in here forever!"

"Don't exaggerate. He isn't that big of a fool. Stop muttering like that."

"...Oh." Violet stiffened slightly. Voldemort had grabbed her ankle. Well, not really grabbed, more just set his hand on it, his fingers curled around it, and his thumb was stroking over her skin slowly.

"Do you object?"

"No...it's okay." The physical contact was kind of nice, actually. Even though they'd been locked in here together, and had been talking for all this time, the touch made her really feel like she wasn't alone, more than his presence and voice. Violet didn't know if that actually made sense, and was half debating on actually letting herself think about it, when Voldemort spoke again.

"...When were you going to tell me you dream of me, Potter?"

Violet froze. "I don't dream about you, Voldemort."

"Liar."

She didn't bother answering at first. He was right, she was lying, and it was all too obvious. But even then, admitting something like this, admitting what she had been thinking, admitting what she had been feeling... "How would you even know that?"

Voldemort didn't seem surprised or bothered by the question, and continued stroking her ankle soothingly as he said, "We are connected, you and I. Those dreams...are shared between us."

Violet's eyes widened as the understood the implications behind those words. "Wh-what? Wait, then-"

"Yes, I have been having the very same dreams."

"Oh...I-that's.." Embarrassing? Awkward? Creepy? ...Welcoming?

"I don't object to the dreams," said Voldemort conversationally. "I enjoy them. I would enjoy more than just the dreams as well."

Violet understood that too. What he was saying. What he wasn't saying. The dreams were one thing-they'd been kind of odd, but she'd sort of started liking them. Because they were just dreams. Because they weren't real. Or so she'd always told herself. But when it came to real life, when it came to the two of them in real life- "But-but isn't it...isn't it wrong?"

Voldemort smiled slightly-Violet could hear it in his voice when he next spoke. "Wrong? Perhaps. For more than one reason. The only question that remains is, do you care? Do you care that it is wrong?"

He was right, it was wrong, but his question was spot on too. Did she care? Did it really matter? Who they were, what they were, how they were treated. These things made it all the more complicated. In most circumstances she'd have said yes, she'd have said that she did very much care about this all being wrong. But right now, considering everything about them, considering everyone around them... "No, I guess I don't," she conceded. "Maybe I should, but I don't." She hesitated. "But even then-"

"We want the same thing, Violet," said Voldemort surprisingly gently. Now he sounded the exact same as he did in the dreams, and all it did was make Violet hesitate even more. "The dreams are proof enough of that." He reached out to her in the darkness.

"Ah...!"

"Tell me what you want, Violet."

Violet dropped her head back again, and she could feel her heart already beginning to beat faster. His hands felt the way they did in the dreams-big, and soft, and a little cool, but not unpleasantly so. "You-you're making this r-really unfair!"

"Am I? I'm barely even touching you."

He really wasn't, but Violet had always found herself to be sensitive to touch-his touch, in particular. Even in the dreams he barely had to do anything to send her reeling. But there was still caution and hesitation. He was waiting to see how she would respond, not physically, but verbally. Would she agree with him and join him-help him, or would she deny everything, refuse everything, and continue to fight until her death?

Violet didn't have to think for very long to make a final decision. "D-damn, fine! Fine." She moved towards him in the small space, sliding onto his lap, fisting his robes in her hands and kissing him firmly. "...There. I-I admit it. I do want it. I don't want to be a puppet anymore. I want to-to be me. I just want to be Violet."

His arms came around her immediately, holding her in place as he leaned into her, pressing their foreheads together. "And so now you are. You have made this decision on your own. This is life, Violet. It is about time you finally get the chance to experience it properly."

"Marvolo..." She'd always called him that in the dreams-it was what he'd told her to call him, and she supposed it made sense to call him that now too.

"Yes, Violet?"

She shook her head, kissing him again before she pulled back slightly, grinning. "I guess we'll have to thank Malfoy for locking us in here instead of killing him."

"Nonsense. There is absolutely no reason why we can't do both."

Violet laughed. "True enough!"

And as they embraced again, somewhere further in the large manor, a certain young man suddenly felt a dreadful shiver run down his spine.

FIN

Like I said at the beginning, this is a simple oneshot, so don't expect anything more. Regardless, I did enjoy writing this, even if I did it in a weird way. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!