In The End

 

 

"This is an interesting predicament, is it not, little child?" I whispered into her ear. I then paused, a new train of though in my mind.

"Child. No, she can't be called that anymore. A child is innocent, without fear or regret, a naive little thing in a world that's moving too fast to be kept up with. And Virginia Weasley is no longer any of those things. No, she has seen far too much to have retained her innocence," I murmured, picking up a lock of long red hair. In the darkness of the stone chamber, it looked almost like blood from the dancing candle-light. "Innocent blood?" I asked, beginning to twirl the lock around the index finger of my right hand, "No, I think not."

From an observer's point of view, the scene would look almost like Pieta - the statue by Michelangeo with a twist. Instead of Mary holding the dead Jesus in her arms, it was almost as if Jesus held the dead Mary in his arms. But that was not the case. No Biblical characters held the place in this stone chamber, merely two wizards. One nearly dead and the other one newly living.

She was the almost dead - skin pale as marble, eyes closed, shallow breathing. Her head lay against my shoulder and she was sitting on my lap, one arm lying across my other shoulder. She was reminiscent of a rag doll, thrown there - unwanted. I was the one newly alive again - thanks to her life force. My skin was as pale as the grave too, but this was nothing new - it's always been like that. My breathing was deep and slightly ragged - hers shallow and controlled.

"Virginia, Virginia, Virginia," I spoke once more, hearing my voice all but swallowed up into the darkness of the chamber, "I must commend you on such a wonderful job." This line was eerily reminiscent of the one I had spoken to her upon their first meeting, so many months ago. I could almost hear her reply to this one though.

"What do you mean Tom?" she would ask, if she was awake. Her voice would be full of confusion, as would be her expression. Her forehead would be slightly wrinkled as her eyebrows furrowed, trying to make sense of what the meaning of his words were.

"Exactly what I said, my little queen." I whispered, cupping her face in his hands so he could look at her, "Exactly what I said." I rested his lips against her forehead for a moment, feeling the cold skin beneath them. I drew back and looked at her, calculatingly and shrewd. "You know, precious Virginia?" I paused, waiting for an answer. As if she could reply, I chuckled quietly to himself, "You look almost innocent still."

Like on our first meeting, I said to myself, letting her head drop back onto my shoulder. There was no change in her comatose state - she still looked dead. I picked up one of her hands and laced my fingers through her's. Running a finger down her pale cheek, I smiled softly in the darkness, "Do you think I'll let anything happen to you, my precious? No, no I won't. You're mine - mine now and forever."

Another line from our first meeting. I almost laughed at the irony of it all. The same speeches from when we first lay eyes on each other was coming to life once again now - at our last meeting. Of course, she has no idea that this is our last meeting. Although I dare say, she might have some inkling about it.

"Useless now, though." I laughed quietly, looking around the Chamber. "Of course, we won't be down here alone for much longer, will we, my little queen? No, of course not," a rage was beginning to build in me, as it always did when I though about him, "Your precious Harry Potter will be down here before long. But you know what, Virginia?" I asked, my voice rising, "He can't stop me. Or us. He can't stop what has happened and what's going to happen. There's no possible way he can have any inkling of what's to come."

I stopped, listening. Were there any footsteps approaching? No, no footsteps. Not yet.

"Do you remember our first meeting, precious?" I whispered, stroking her hair gently, "All of this started with that one meeting. It all catapulted itself through destiny to here. I remember it well."

"Tom, what do you want from me?" she had asked, her face so open and trusting. That was the first time I had saw her. She was such a child then, barely ready to stray from her mother's apron strings, unable to have an inkling of an idea of what the world outside her safe, warm home was like.

"Lots of things, precious," I had replied. I had simply stared at her then. Her hair had been pulled back in braids - twin woven pieces of red hair that fell to her shoulders, making her ears stick out slightly. Her face had been tanned from the slight air of summer that still lingered amidst the colour-changed trees. Her eyes had looked upon me, as if they were penetrating me. After a few moments, she had hugged me. Her small arms had encircled my waist and I brought my own around her shoulders. I had sat next to her on her bed as she had looked at me, wonder clearly in her eyes.

We didn't say much then, she simply looked at me and I looked at her. We were like that for a long time. I could see that she was becoming tired though - the ability for her to bring me out of the diary would soon drain her strength and she would fall to sleep and I would disappear into the diary for some time. I didn't know for how long, but just that I would.

"Tom, why do you talk to me?" she had asked, looking up at me with her large brown eyes. How innocent they were back then. But not now. Not anymore.

"You're no longer innocent, are you, precious Virginia?" I asked, my voice holding a slightly sing-song tone.

I looked down at her. I thought for a moment that I saw her eyelashes flutter.

"Opening your eyes to what the truth is, my little queen?" I murmured in her ear. Yes, most definitely, her eyelashes were fluttering, "Waking up to the real world?" I paused for a moment, looking down at her face, "Or will you never wake up to reality? Will you spend your life wandering in naive fantasy?"

"Tom, why are you doing this?" she had asked once, I recalled. I replied that I had to do this - that it was very important to me. I almost laughed at her easy submission, at her willingness to give in. I haven't had to threaten her once to get her to do what I wanted.

"Tom?" I could almost hear her whisper. No, wait. I could hear her whisper my name. No, not my twisted imagination - it was the actual truth. "Tom?" she repeated, her voice all but no sound.

"Well, precious, you've woken up," I murmured, "My little queen, you're stronger than I thought."

"What's going on?" I almost couldn't hear what she had to say, her voice was so weak. She had opened her eyes and they stared up at me - lifeless hazel orbs.

"Well, it's just the final stage," I said, running one finger down the side of her face. I could feel her shiver slightly under my tough - like she was afraid that even touching me would bring despair and death to everything. Why wouldn't it? I wondered with a mirthful smile, playing with a few strands of her hair, after all, it seems like I'm best at that.

She closed her eyes and swallowed before continuing her questions, "Final stage of what?"

 

"Shush, my little queen," I whispered, "You're exhausting yourself." I could see that she was beginning to fade back into the darkness. Her skin was becoming almost translucent, "No, don't go yet." I whispered, grabbing hold of her hand. I closed my eyes and almost mentally I could see myself forcing strength back into her. To keep her alive for a few more minutes.

"Final stage of what, Tom?" her voice was stronger, almost commanding. I opened my eyes and saw that she looked solid - like a real human being instead of like a shade or a . . . memory.

"You know what the final stage is of," I said, cupping her face in my hands. She shifted a bit so that she could see me better and one of her hands came to rest atop my own, "And we can't fail now."

"But what if we can?" she asked, a hint of fear creeping into her voice, "What if we do fail and I - - " she trailed off there, unwilling to finish the sentence.

"What if you die?" I finished the question for her, "My little queen, you will not die, most assuredly. Our plan is too foolproof to fail even if that Potter interferes."

"Your plan, you mean," she muttered, a note of resentment clawing its way into her voice, "You came up with it and I went along with it."

"Are you regretting it now?" I asked, slightly snappish, "Are you wanting to back out and be a coward?" I asked, my voice hardening with anger, "Because you know, precious Virginia, that I detest cowards."

"Would I be a coward if I was in Gryffindor?" she replied back, her voice high-pitched. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to draw back from my hands. She couldn't. I was already too strong for her and I knew she realized this when I saw the look in her eyes as she opened them.

"Of course not, my little queen," I murmured, removing my hands from her face. Her head almost lolled to the side without any support.

"Would you have been happier if I was in Slytherin?" she asked softly, resting her cheek against my shoulder.

"Perhaps," I said, my voice equally as soft, "But then again, you might not be the same person you are now."

"What you mean," she whispered, "Is that I wouldn't be in love with Harry."

The minute she said that one sentence, I felt like my insides froze up. I was extremely jealous of that twelve-year-old boy, even though i would never admit it to anyone. How could she love him, I would wonder. I asked her about it once.

"Oh, Tom, he's just one of the best people you could ever meet. He's so nice and kind and caring. He won't say a bad word about anyone and he's so incredibly brave. . ." she had begun to blab on about him for the longest time as I tuned her out.

"But, precious Virginia," I said, trying not to let my anger show through in my voice or on my face, "I thought you said you loved me."

"I do love you, Tom," she said, a slight confused look passing over her face, "But it's a different kind of love. I don't know how to explain it though." she looked up at me with her wide eyes, "And I'm not sure how you feel about it, because you've never said anything about it to me." her voice was almost fading into the darkness of the chamber, "You've never shown any emotion except anger and hatred. . . do you even know how to love?"

I started at this and stared down at her face with slight shock, "You say that . . ." I trailed off into silence.

 

"Do you, Tom?" she asked, lifting her head so that she could look me in the eye, an urgent note trembling in her voice, "Do you know how to love?"

"Dammit, Ginny," I snapped, letting her nickname slip through. I haven't called her that in a long time. I refused to call her that after her twelfth birthday, saying that it was a child's nickname, not one fit for a young woman.

She started at me with unblinking eyes. I hated when she did that. It made me feel as if she could see right through me.

"I love you," I said, grabbing her chin forcefully. I pulled her face to mine and kissed her roughly. I could feel her surprise and resistance at first. But she wasn't strong enough to resist. Her mouth soon moved in time with my own as she gave into me, as she always had and always would. I pulled back after a few moments and she was staring at me, with a slightly glazed look in her eyes.

"I love you too, Tom," she whispered, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. I felt her lay her head down on my shoulder without looking. I was staring straight ahead, "And I always will," she added, her voice becoming thicker, like she was falling asleep. One quick glance at her face and I discovered she was sleeping.

"Final sleep, my little queen," I whispered, picking her up. She was almost as light as a feather. I stood up unsteadily, feeling my energy slowly draining from my body. No matter. Once Potter was down here, I could kill him. Kill him and take his energy. Then Virginia would be mine and no one would be able to stop us. I walked over to where the statue of my ancestor began. I lay her down at his feet, almost like some twisted offering to a primeval god.

Her head rolled to the side as I lay her down on her back. It was a bit eerie, seeing her like that. She had been full of life and laughter up until now and she looked like a corpse. Might as well finish the delusion, I said to myself, an unsettling grin spreading across my face. I took her hands and crossed them over her chest so that the illusion of a corpse was complete.

"Sleep well, precious," I whispered, kneeling down and kissing her once more, "For when you wake, it shall be a new era where I shall be king and you shall be queen."

I stood up and started to walk towards the entrance. I stopped, hearing footsteps. I listened for a moment longer. No, these footsteps were nothing of my imagination, they were real.

"Right on time, Potter," I muttered to myself in the darkness, leaning against one of the ceiling-high pillars. I smiled softly, "But then again, it doesn't matter if you're on time or not. Things will work out my way, whether you try to stop me or if you let me go on my way. In the end, it doesn't really matter."