Quirrell's quarters were gloomy, lit only by a few candles that crackled with a faint light. The atmosphere felt damp, with a smell like poorly stored potions.
Aurelian sat down in the chair opposite the desk, crossing his arms. The professor remained standing, watching him intently, as if trying to read his soul through his eyes.
"Tell me, Mr. Gaunt..." Quirrell began in a grave voice, firmer than in the classroom. "What do you know about your parents?"
The question did not surprise him. Aurelian tilted his head, showing a half-smile that failed to soften the edge of his gaze.
"I know enough," he replied confidently. "The goblins at Gringotts revealed it to me when I took my inheritance test."
Quirrell tensed his jaw.
"And what did they tell you?" he asked.
Aurelian held his gaze without hesitation.
"My mother was Elaine Harper," a shadow of melancholy crossed his voice before hardening again, "and my father... was Tom Marvolo Riddle."
For a moment, the candles flickered violently, as if the room itself had reacted. Quirrell took a step back, his eyes flashing with fury.
"No," he murmured, his voice changing, becoming deeper. "Don't say it so easily, boy."
Aurelian raised an eyebrow, showing no fear, even though his heart was beating fast.
"And why shouldn't I?" he said sharply. "It's my father's name, after all."
Quirrell leaned toward him, shadows covering half his face. For a second, the professor's mask cracked, revealing his true self.
Wanting to see how far his father would go when talking about his name, he continued, letting out a short laugh.
"Really?" he said, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair and bringing his hand to his chin, as if pondering something amusing. "That I shouldn't say it... Tom Marvolo Riddle."
Quirrell trembled, his hands clutching the desk like claws. The nearest candle burst, spilling wax onto the floor.
"Shut up!" he growled, but Aurelian leaned forward slightly, enjoying the provocation.
"Tom Riddle..." he repeated calmly, emphasizing each syllable. "It doesn't sound so scary. Quite... ordinary, don't you think?"
Aurelian smiled ironically.
"Too Muggle, right?"
The blow came like thunder. The air in the room became thicker, suffocating. The candles went out suddenly and an invisible pressure pushed Aurelian back against the back of his chair. Quirrell took a step forward.
"Enough games, Aurelian!" thundered Voldemort. "I am Tom Marvolo Riddle and your father."
The air froze. Aurelian felt a chill run down his spine as he heard it directly from his mouth.
Voldemort stood up straight, his aura filling every corner of the room.
"But the world knows me by a greater name..." His voice dropped, laden with pride. "They know me as Lord Voldemort."
The name, spoken by himself, echoed like thunder off the stone walls.
Aurelian narrowed his eyes, not taking his gaze off his father.
"So... that's the great name you've decided to use? Lord Voldemort." He tilted his head, letting out another laugh. "To be honest, I'm not impressed. It sounds weird."
The silence grew heavy. Quirrell's features tensed, his lips stretching into a grimace of fury, but the voice that emerged was grave, deep.
"Measure your words... Boy," Voldemort whispered, the shadows in the room lengthening like snakes toward Aurelian. "Anyone else who spoke to me that way would already be dead on the floor."
Aurelian smiled at him.
"But I'm not like everyone else, am I?"
Voldemort's smile was crooked, and he let out a sound close to laughter.
"Clever. Very clever..." He took a step closer, his magical aura fading. "And you're not surprised, Aurelian? Doesn't it thrill you to discover that your father is the most feared wizard of the modern era?"
Aurelian shrugged.
"The truth is... I already knew. It wasn't hard to come to that conclusion."
Voldemort's eyes flashed with confusion.
"So... you feel nothing? No surprise, no fear, not even a little curiosity about how I can be standing in front of you?"
Aurelian looked at him calmly, crossing his legs indifferently.
"Of course I'm curious... but if you managed to survive your defeat, finding a body to use as a vessel doesn't seem like your greatest achievement to me."
Silence fell over the room once more. Voldemort stared at him, with an expression that would surprise Dumbledore himself. For the first time in his life, he didn't know how to respond.
"Tell me something..." his voice was low, almost a whisper. "Did you ever... love my mother?"
Quirrell's face hardened; that question had pierced a crack in Voldemort's relentless armor. The silence was long, so long that Aurelian almost thought he wouldn't answer.
Then something unexpected happened. Voldemort sighed wearily.
"Yes," he said at last, his voice hoarse.
He brought a hand to his chest.
"Yes, Aurelian, I loved your mother... and I still love her."
The confession hung in the air. Aurelian opened his eyes in surprise, not expecting to hear those words from this man. Not from the wizard who had always been described as a monster incapable of feeling anything so human.
Voldemort lowered his voice to a whisper, heavy with nostalgia.
"Elaine was... different. She looked at me like no one else did, without fear, without idolatry. She was the only one who saw me as... Tom." The name trembled on his lips, still refusing to be spoken. "And even though my ambition led me to lose everything, that feeling never went away."
Aurelian's eyes hardened, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. His voice came out cold, with a hint of resentment.
"If you really loved her so much... you wouldn't have let her die."
The words were like a lash. Voldemort clenched his teeth. The shadow covering him stirred as if his magic was rebelling against his son's reproach.
"Don't talk as if you understand..." he began, but the strength in his voice faltered. He lowered his gaze for just a moment. "I... I regret it." The sentence was brief, sounding pained, torn from the depths of his being.
Aurelian looked at him in disbelief, his heart pounding. He never expected to hear his father say those words.
"I should have been with her," Voldemort continued. "I should have been with you. But I convinced myself that love, that union, were weaknesses. Things that would bring me down. I tried to suppress what I felt, to chain it deep within myself."
His eyes lit up, fixing on Aurelian's. For a moment, it was not the great dark wizard looking at him, but a man who had lost the only thing that had ever been real in his life.
"It was a mistake," he said, each word drawn out like a lament. "The biggest mistake of my entire life."
Aurelian pressed his lips together. Part of him wanted to scream, to curse him for abandoning his mother, for condemning her to a lonely and cruel fate.
"What good does it do to say that now?!" Aurelian shouted back, his voice heavy with pain. "She's gone. All I have left of my mother is a domestic elf and a few memories, all because of your decisions!"
"It matters because I'm here now," he replied. "It matters because I can still look at you, call you my son. Because even though I tried to deny it, even though I wanted to erase it... you exist, Aurelian. You are proof of everything I didn't believe possible."
Finally, Aurelian broke the silence, his voice low but full of venom.
"Tell me, father," the word sounded harsh on his lips, "did everything you thought you wanted... everything you sacrificed, everything you destroyed... was it worth it?"
Voldemort did not respond immediately. His eyes darkened, and as he looked at him, he seemed like nothing more than a tired old man inside the stolen body he inhabited. Then he spoke, with a strange sincerity.
"I know I have nothing left. I don't have your mother, I don't have a home, I don't even have a body." His voice broke almost imperceptibly before hardening again. "But you are here. And I want..." He forced himself to say the words. "I want to try to build a relationship with you."
Aurelian watched him silently, thinking of his mother, of the times he had brought her back with the stone, of how she would have reacted to hearing such words.
Voldemort added in a firm voice, as if he needed to remind himself who he was.
"That doesn't change the fact that I will continue to pursue my goal. I will not stop pursuing it, no matter how many obstacles I encounter."
Then Aurelian let out a dry laugh with a hint of mockery.
"Your goal?" he repeated ironically. "They're nothing but empty words, the remnants of a man trying to convince himself that he's still working toward something. What you really want, what you've always wanted, is power and control. That's who you are. A man who can't stand being contradicted."
The words cut him like a knife. Voldemort narrowed his eyes, but there was no outburst of anger, no threat. Only silence.
"Perhaps..." he said slowly, letting the words float in the air, "you're right. Perhaps it all comes down to power and control. Perhaps that's all I am." A twisted, humorless smile curved his lips. "But even if I admit it, I won't change. I will continue to pursue my goals."
Aurelian watched him, analyzing every word. He saw no real remorse in him, but acceptance, something that was even more dangerous.
"I understand," he said finally.
Voldemort tilted his head to one side, pondering his next words.
"I want us to talk again sometime. There's a lot we... need to discuss."
The silence lingered for a few more seconds. Aurelian narrowed his eyes before rising from his seat.
"I'll have to think about it," he replied coldly, turning on his heel.
Voldemort did not stop him. He just watched him walk away, his footsteps echoing in the distance. The Dark Lord remained silent, his thoughts in disarray.
Aurelian, meanwhile, left with his heart racing, still trying to process everything he had heard.
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