“The crimson bird took in the sight of his blackened, frostbitten body and cried. He heard its musical lament and saw the sorrow in the depth of its obsidian eyes for the loss of its master, a loss that it would carry for the rest of its immortal life, and for the first time the Dark Lord understood empathy. He would grant it mercy.
They say it is a great sin, to slay a unicorn. They say it is an atrocity, to kill something so pure, so innocent… That to drink its blood will save you from the brink of death, but that the moment the liquid touches your lips, you will live a half-life…a cursed life…They say nothing of what it means to kill a phoenix.
To take the life of the eternal. No one has ever accomplished such an impossible feat, would even think to try. But the ability of Lord Voldemort knows no bounds, bows to no laws, conforms to no boundaries… He drank its tears and drained it of its blood. He consumed its heart. …Such power. Such ancient, pure magic. It ignited in him. It was the healing fire. It brought his frozen limbs back to life in a burning, scorching pyre.” Hauntingly