Tick Tock

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

Laying in his soft bed, under his Zac Efron bedsheets, with Bellatrix Lestrange cuddled up next to him, Lord Voldemort stared at his Zac Efron clock as it tick away the seconds, minutes, hours.

Tick Tock

Another second closer to Potter’s demise.

Tick Tock

Another minute closer to Dumbledore’s death.

Tick Tock

Another hour since he betrayed his best friend.

Voldemort closed his eyes, and tried to block out the guilt that laid heavily in his chest, much to his annoyance. After all, he was the Dark Lord, feared by all, a murderer, the future ruler of the Wizarding World, and soon the whole word, which would technically become the wizarding world. He shouldn’t be feeling guilty about sending one person to Azkaban to die.

Voldemort let out a small moan, and pushed aside Bellatrix’s arm, before sitting at the edge of his bed. He put his head into his hands, and let out a whine of guilt.

Tick Tock

Another second spent in Azkaban.

Tick Tock

Another minute hating him.

Tick Tock

Another hour wishing he were dead.

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

Another day missing him.