Voldemort scanned the graveyard with his glaring red eyes, the snowy whiteness of his face twitching as he looked about for that annoying teenager. If only he could be made to understand, everything would be so simple ...,
He turned down a blind alley of tombstones backed with impenetrable briars, and there was Harry in front of him.
Harry swallowed hard and levelled his wand, but he did not unleash anything Voldemort's way, no doubt foolish and desperate enough to expect Voldemort to say something that might help Harry out of this impasse.
Yet Voldemort was not about to try any unwarranted aggression, and in fact when he spoke his voice was almost gentle.
"Why do you insist on running, Harry? Why don't you join me? You know it is futile to resist. Join me, and together we can rule the worlds of wizards and Muggles alike. There is nothing we cannot do ...,"
"I'll never join you", Harry said. "Never! Do you hear? I'm not like you at all."
"Ahh", said Voldemort, "but Albus never told you the truth, did he? About what really happened on that night fourteen years ago ...,"
"He told me enough. You're a mass murderer. You've slaughtered hundreds of wizards. You murdered my parents. You murdered my mother. You killed my father."
At that, Voldemort's face grew solemn and a little sad. Holding his wand aside, he spread his arms in greeting.
"No, Harry. I did not kill your father. I ... AM your father."
"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!"