The Other Side

Chapter 6: Decisions

"I feel your fingers cold on my shoulder
Your chilling touch as it runs down my spine
Watching your eyes as they invade my soul
Forbidden pleasures I'm afraid to make mine
At the touch of your hand
At the sound of your voice
At the moment your eyes meet mine
I am out of my mind; I am out of control
Full of feelings I can't define"

-- from "Dangerous Game", Jekyll and Hyde

~*~

For several moments, Minerva found herself unable to utter a noise; what would she have possibly said? To say `no´ would be a death sentence, but to say `yes´ would close the door to any chance of ever returning to her former life.

She longed to love, and be loved in return.

Was it worth giving up her beliefs, her morals, her past and everything she had stood for?

And all for a man who has sold his body to become immortal, his soul to become powerful...

Twiddling his wand lazily, he stood there, awaiting her response. His lips curved in a mocking smile; his stark white skin created a frighteningly iridescent glow around him: a pure mockery of the angels.

She bit her lower lip nervously, a habit she had acquired over the years, and glanced up at Voldemort, her emotions carefully masked as she studied him. His eyes were giant pools of darkness rimmed with crimson - so deep that she felt that she was drowning in them.

"Minerva?" His voice was softer, gentler. She could hear Tom in there: her Tom. Memories of long walks and warm conversations rose to her mind, and she tried to banish them without success. That wasn´t him, couldn´t be him...

"I...I don´t know," she whispered, shifting her gaze from him to glance around the room. The door was slightly ajar.

In one swift motion, she stood up and broke into a run, heading for the door. She ran quickly across the room, but he was quicker, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the illuminated door and shoving her into the wall. He started to talk, but stopped when he saw the ill-concealed terror frozen on her face.

"You," he said slowly, "are afraid of me."

She bit her lip and turned to the side where the door was still ajar - ajar, but forever locked to her. "Just...do it," she whispered, turning back to him. He saw resignation in her dark eyes, mixed with anguish and weariness.

One hand still pinning her to the wall, one hand caressing her cheek - ironic to have both sides of him in one gesture - and his voice, his true poison, had ripped into old wounds and left them bleeding. "What would you have me do?" he asked in a low voice.

A burning anger surged through her veins and, forgetting about her current situation, suddenly burst out furiously, "What do you want me to do? Jump off a cliff? It´s already bad enough that you´ve brought me to this miserable place and shredded me to pieces, but now you want me to sign my own death warrant and kill myself? Fine...go ahead and kill me then. It´s what you´ve wanted, isn´t it?" She stopped shouting and, standing defiantly opposite Voldemort, took a deep breath and glanced at his expression, expecting anger at her defiance, and then her death.

But instead, he was studying her closely: he was staring at her, and it unnerved her. For several heartbeats, for what seemed like an eternity, his steady gaze was trained on her; she had to resist the urge to squirm under his scrutiny, grown witch that she was. Finally, he broke eye contact and stepped closer to her. "You are my other side," he murmured, "and I would never willingly kill you."

She was silent for a long time as she tried to digest what he had just said, and finally, with her hands trembling slightly, she asked, "What would happen...if I decided to join you?"

"Then, my love, we would be together once more."

His words, spoken without doubt, without fear - as if it were factual - chilled her to the bone; in the past, Tom had been a very...possessive...lover, but how much more possessive had he become as Lord Voldemort? She stared up at the lonely little window, and thought of home. Yes, home...

He coughed slightly, bringing Minerva back down to earth; back down into the depths of what she affectionately termed `Hell´. She would never get to return to Hogwarts, except perhaps as an enemy to her former allies; and if she died here, she would never see it again at all.

She had left her home once to be with him; would she do it again? "Tom?"

"Yes?" he murmured, locking his eyes with hers.

Her thoughts drifted to another time when he had made the same offer to her. She remember the regrets she had harbored, the years they had spent together in and out of school before breaking up on uneasy terms with the sudden proposition. She remembered how it had felt to be loved, worshipped, even. She remembered the exhilaration that came with the rush of power and knowledge, the excitement in discovering the unknown...

And that she now had no future elsewhere.

Was it really that bad to join him?

Of course it is. Not that you ever cared, though.

But she did care...she did, didn´t she?

Somewhere within her clouded mind, she knew she didn´t.

Merlin, I´m as bad as he is...

The last wall of her defenses crumbled before her.

Her hand slipped unconsciously into his, and she was surprised when she met with a cold bony grasp instead of the warm hand that she had been accustomed to. It served as a reminder that while Tom was inside, somewhere, she was inevitably dealing with Lord Voldemort.

But she had always dealt with Lord Voldemort, in one way or another. She could handle it. She would.

Don't bite off more than you can chew, you brave, stupid, foolish girl.

Go away.

"Are you sure?" his voice asked.

You don´t have a choice, his eyes said.

Summoning what shreds of human dignity and pride she had left, she looked him squarely in the face and held his gaze steadily. "Lead the way," she said.

"Only for you, my Lady," he replied, guiding her away from the wall and, opening the door with a wave of his hand, guided her step-by-step out of the dank prison and into the hallway.