HP X LOTM : Please Call Me Mr. Error.

There weren't many things Voldemort feared. Especially not since he didn't even know what fear was anymore.

Although he could manipulate and control people's desires and induce fear in them by torturing them or destroying the things dearest to them, Voldemort felt untold fear in the moments he'd met the man for the first time in his life.

"Tom?" The man asked as he silently appeared in front of him when the hall he was sitting in was void of death eaters.

The casual tone and the sudden presence of a person other than himself inside his range caught him off guard and surprised him a little, but what he felt the most was intrigue and curiosity.

So Voldemort turned towards the remarkably old man and looked at him with slight confusion before noticing that the man in front of him was at least a Saint like him too.

"Who are you?"

The old man smiled and then calmly waved his hand.

Voldemort didn't see what happened directly, but he almost immediately felt the clear distinction in his surroundings. It suddenly felt like he and the man had been pulled out of the world. Like someone had concealed their presence.

Voldemort wasn't surprised by the concealment ability since it was something he had come across before while he had one of the Black family members working under him during his previous rise to power.

What did surprise him however was that the man who used it clearly wasn't a Black Family member, at least not one he recognised immediately.

"Who are you?" Voldemort asked again in an even calmer tone.

He hadn't retaliated in any way yet since he didn't feel any hostility from the man. As such he chose the more descent option, he uncharacteristically decided to talk because he felt a slight warning from his intuition about attacking the man.

Nothing great enough that he would feel threatened. But just enough to know that if they were to fight then coming out on top wouldn't be very easy, making him sure that the man was about as strong as he was in a fight.

The man only looked at Voldemort and smiled again without answering his question directly.

"You must have already guessed who I am by now. But that is not very important. What is important is that I have something to offer to you. Something you desperately need and something that you desire…"

The old man's voice was carefully toned.

Even though Voldemort had met countless demons before, the man's voice sounded much more like the sweet whispers of a devil.

Even still, because he didn't have any emotions, the words did not evoke the right feelings.

The old man noticed all this but didn't let his enthusiasm simmer down.

Except Voldemort frowned almost immediately.

Now that he had observed the man for a few seconds longer, he suddenly realised that the man was very much like him. In that, the man didn't have many emotions…it was almost as if the man was just as coldblooded as him.

But since the man clearly wasn't an Abyss pathway Beyonder, Voldemort for the first time in a while felt a little surprised, he had never seen a person like this naturally.

Even the closest murderers he knew displayed emotions for their 'favourite' things. They might've been devoid of emotions normally, but when they were committing the act, they were usually exuberant, or scared, or just something in between.

But the man was emotionless. Even though he looked exuberant visually, his emotions were dead.

That was when the old man's smile widened as he spoke-

"You want to be free of 'Her' leash don't you?"

Voldemort's blood froze cold.

From what he knew, it was impossible for anyone to divine anything about 'Her'. At least not without dying immediately after because of coming to comprehend information regarding 'Her'.

As such, Voldemort almost immediately raised his defences.

His spirituality was primed as he moved to attack the old man in front of him, but he controlled himself from acting on impulses at the last second.

Not because the Old man spoke to him or even created remarkable defences to stop him from attacking.

No, it was entirely because even though the old man had thought of and spoken about 'Her', he wasn't corrupted yet, 'Her' gaze hadn't even arrived at his position for a moment even though the man had very clearly thought about 'Her' directly.

This meant that whatever means the old man was using to conceal himself and Voldemort from the outside world was keeping 'Her' gaze away.

"Oo~ scary!" The old man shivered as if he was scared but he held a sarcastic smile on his face as he looked at Voldemort, staring him down as if he were looking at a foolish child.

It irked Voldemort, but he remained calm since he could still feel his connection to the Abyss which meant that should things come to the worst he could still move into the Abyss.

By this point, Voldemort had already pieced two and two together and come up with the most possible identity for the person in front of him.

"Gelert Grindelwald."

The old man nodded and gave Voldemort an exaggerated bow.

"In the flesh."

"Why are you here?"

Gelert looked at Voldemort with his eyes gleaming as he spoke in a simple but lethal tone-

"We wish the same thing and I am here for it."

Voldemort was a little confused since he wished to be the strongest.

Did Gelert aim to fight him for the title?

Gelert only shook his head while maintaining eye contact with Voldemort.

"I guess I know you better than yourself."

Voldemort instantly frowned at the arrogance Gelert was showing but he wasn't given a chance to speak-

"Don't we wish for the downfall of the White Lord?"

Voldemort's eyes instantly widened.

"You see, I cannot make a direct move against 'Him' because of a few reasons. But that doesn't mean I cannot help someone else make a move. You know, nudge things along the way so that the same thing I need happening, happens."

"Get to the point." Voldemort spoke, impatient since Dumbledore had been the one wrench in his plans ever since he had learnt more about 'Him' from the Mother Tree of Desire.

"Ah! The younger generation. Truly impatient." Gelert shook his head with slight disappointment but the smile on his face still remained.

And then he spoke with an even wider smile-

Voldemort opened his eyes once again and found himself sitting in the room with the rest of his Death Eaters and as the silence stretched thin, Voldemort finally pulled his thin lips apart as he spoke in a *hissy* voice.

"Your next mission is to find a way to destroy all the prophecies in the Hall of Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries."

The death eaters all frowned simultaneously, even Bellatrix, in fact, Bellatrix was the one that frowned the deepest since the order was a little uncharacteristic of Voldemort's usual ruthlessness and violence.

She even began to suspect that Voldemort had been replaced by Loki once again.

This order was almost as if it had been planned to do something deeper, something more sinister. Something which was uncharacteristic of Voldemort. A person who attacked from the front with wands blazing.

And while they did not understand what it meant, they did realise that something had changed, or rather, something about Voldemort had changed itself to become much more sinister.

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