Author: eena_angel2001
Email: [email protected] or [email protected]
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Joss owns Buffy and the crew. J.K Rowling owns Harry
Potter.
Pairing: Willow/Tom Riddle, Willow/Harry
Author's Notes: Response to the Quickie Challenge, Pairing #23 and
#40. After season six for BTVS, and a future fic for HP.
Warning: This is a very dark fic, with lots of character death.
It was that time of the year again. The snow was falling and
that old Christmas spirit was in the air. People raced over the
streets in a hurry, fumbling with gifts as they scurried home. She
wished she could be like them, she remembered what it was like to be
them. But that was all gone now.
London was a pretty place; she wished she could enjoy its
beauty while she was here. But there was no point. It might not be
around for much longer. It was possible nothing would be around much
longer. He was planning it, getting ready to launch it in the New
Year. He thought it had some sort of wonderful symmetry to it. The
start of a new year with an end to the old world.
There it was, that black non-descript SUV roaming around the
streets in a circle. It was right on time, it always was. She
usually only had three days of solace before he found her again. He
was probably most anxious to have her back this night, Christmas
Eve. Evil as he was, he wanted to be with the one he loved during
the holidays. And as good as she was in her centre, she would go to
him.
Because she loved him too.
The car stopped its circling, stopping right in front of her
now. She watched emotionlessly as three men in black dusters
emerged. The blonde one looked her way with an almost exasperated
look to his face. She bit back a grin, loving the way Malfoy was
charged with chasing after her during one of her disappearances. He
always thought there was something more important for him to be
doing, and there probably was. But HE didn't care about anything
when she was gone. He wouldn't be able to function until she was
returned to him.
"Come on Willow," Malfoy urged her, dragging her to her
feet. "He's waiting."
She followed him without complaint; tossing a bit of a
remorseful look at the corner she had been hiding herself in for the
past day and a half. One of the nicer hideouts she had had during
her "trips", one where she could look at all the happy people without
interference.
She was placed in the backseat of the car, Malfoy climbing in
to sit next to her. He admonished her lightly for taking off again.
She knew what this did to him, so why did she always run off? Why?
Well, because quite frankly, she had to do it. It was maddeningly to
be with him all the time, to know what he was planning. Knowing she
could stop him, but her love made her too weak drove the redhead out
of her mind. So she ran whenever she could.
It was impossible that she should continue to love him. But
she did, even through everything he put her through. He had wormed
his way into her heart too long before any of it went down, making
her completely lost to him. She could still remember the first time
he had ever appeared to her, in her dreams. He just floated in,
taking away all the nightmares left over from Tara's death and her
own actions. And he came, night after night, so much that she
thought she had made him up. But in her heart, she knew he was real,
out there somewhere, waiting to come to her.
She had been too caught up in him to even notice the changes
going on around her. On retrospect, she probably should have paid
more attention to Dawn as the younger girl started to retreat into
herself. She didn't notice the little differences, the silence, the
haunted look, and the possessiveness she displayed around that stupid
little book. She probably should have asked Dawn where she had
gotten the damn thing, probably should have taken it away after the
first of the incidents occurred. She should have known something was
wrong when people began appearing dead for no reason all around
Sunnydale. And she definitely should have done something when she
noticed how Dawn always seemed to be around the scene of the
disturbances.
But she didn't, and her friends paid the price. It was funny
because it had happened exactly two years ago from this date. Around
the holidays, all the Scoobies gathered around the Summers' living
room and excited about the approaching Christmas. Anya had been
arguing with Xander, demanding to open all her presents at that exact
moment. Xander insisted it must be done at midnight while Buffy
wanted everyone to go to sleep so they could open them in the
morning. Dawn had been oddly quiet, book in hand. She never did
find out what the book was; only that it was the catalyst for
everything.
Funny, they had argued right until midnight, Xander proudly
proclaiming that he had won. They were awake, just wait the thirty
seconds and open them then. She had watched them happily from the
couch, not paying attention to Dawn until the girl cried out. The
book was glowing and a wind picked up in the room. Buffy leapt to
her feet, hand going for her axe immediately, but it was no use. She
heard the words before she even saw who it was.
"Avada Kedavra!"
By the time the dust had cleared, only Willow was left alive
in the living room. And from amidst the bodies of her friends, there
he stood, ready to take her away. Her mind had been too numb to
fight him just then, and by the time it was, it was too late. She
did love him, like a fool, and she couldn't kill him.
So she ran from him whenever she could. She was a powerful
witch, able to bypass any of the charms he could put around her.
For three days he would not be able to find her, and for three days,
he would do nothing but have his people search for her. He honestly
couldn't survive long without her.
He was planning on ending it. It was his great plan, one he
had been working on for two years. The day he would come into the
Muggle world and destroy all was there as well. He had already
destroyed everything in the Wizarding world, killed the greatest
wizard of all time, Albus Dumbledore. He believed that front to be
won, and now only the Muggles remained. He was wrong.
He had a habit of overlooking people once he thought he had
won. With the death of Dumbledore, he thought he had ended any
chance of fight in the Wizarding world. But he didn't, he overlooked
the same person he had once overlooked. And he would pay the same
price for that. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Still-Lived, and the
leader of the Resistance. Those wizards and witches still fighting
him in that world, trying to stop him from invading the rest of the
world. And she was helping him.
He didn't even have a clue. He thought her love for him kept
him save from her wrath. He honestly didn't know what she did during
her "trips"; no doubt he would kill her in a rage if he found out.
To find out his beloved dark witch was working with his enemy, to
find out she was in love with him as well.
Yes, she screwed herself over. Loving him was hard enough,
but loving Harry on top of that was just plain stupid. She hadn't
meant to do it, but it happened. She went to him whenever she could
and did the only thing she could think of to aid him. She fed him
her magic, filling him with her own power. It was a draining
process, leaving her without magic for about a day and slowly making
Harry stronger than him.
It had happened during one of these times when she came to
feed him her power. She wouldn't give the sordid details, but they
fell into bed, feverishly making love as Willow emptied her magic
into him. And continued to do so whenever she came to him.
They were alike, both of them. So connected it was like they
were the same person. They probably were, the polar opposites of the
other but still the same. The light and the dark, both of which she
loved like the idiot she was.
The car was stopping, they were there. She allowed Malfoy to
lead her up the steps and into the front lobby. There she was
deposited into the care of the maid, who led her straight to her
room. She followed, still silent, looking at the various Death
Eaters as she passed. They were almost always here now, now that the
day was so close. They thought they were invincible; they had no
doubt that they would succeed.
She was left alone in her bedroom, hearing the others scurry
away in a hurry. She just moved to sit on her bed and to wait for
him. He would come, berate her, claim her, and then forgive her.
Her fingers moved over the sheets of her bed, remembering the
first time she had run away. He had found her, and her first and
only accomplice. One of the girls that he kept locked up here for
the amusement of his Death Eaters. Once back in here, he had killed
the girl and claimed her while the body was still on the bed with
them. Willow had wanted to puke that night, unable to tear her eyes
from the dead form of the girl beside her. She had promised her
freedom but got her only death. Poor girl, poor Hermione, Willow had
really wanted to help her.
"You left again."
He was here, sulking into the room. She took in the handsome
profile, the dark hair and the bewitching eyes. And the anger
defined on his features. He was always angry with her after such an
escapade, always determined to make her pay for leaving him. But he
never did.
"I'm sorry you were worried," was the only thing she said.
It was truthful. She was sorry that he worried about her so much
when she was gone. He knew that, and that was why he always forgave
her.
"It's too close to the time Willow," he continued, stalking
closer to her. "Too close for you to do be doing this to me. You
must make me a promise. Do not run off again."
"I will."
It was the game they always played. He begged her not to go
again, and she always swore she wouldn't. But it wouldn't be long
before she was gone again. He knew it, but couldn't stop it. So he
had only these empty promises she gave him to hold him over.
He towered over her and she tilted her head to look up at him
steadily. She knew what was coming, complying with him as he
descended on her. Her clothes were hastily torn away, as were his.
He was in her shortly, thrusting and claiming her violently. She
closed her eyes and let the sensations sweep over her. She did enjoy
it, enjoy him thoroughly. Her eyes went to the clock in the corner,
feeling oddly fulfilled when it struck twelve. Midnight, it was
Christmas day. It was all coming full circle, and soon.
She turned to him, a sad smile on her face.
"I love you Tom Riddle," she told him, tears slipping down
her cheeks. He only smiled, capturing her lips for a kiss as they
moved together.
He didn't see it coming, didn't hear the door open. She had
placed a silence charm on the room before she had left, and it was
still working. She knew he was there, closing her eyes and clutching
him to herself once more before-
"Avada Kedavra!"
His body went still, eyes wide as he fell down upon her,
lifeless. She lay under him for a bit, breathing heavily as the
tears rolled down.
Her eyes went to the doorway, seeing Harry standing there
with his wand in hand. She quietly got out from underneath her
former lover, covering herself quickly before joining Harry by the
doorway. The silence charm faded away and she could hear the
screaming going on outside her room. There were explosions and
screams, the running of feet and hollering cries of the Resistance.
The plan had worked.
"You love only me now."
It wasn't a question, it was a statement. She could only
nod, taking him by the hand and allowing him to lead her out of the
room.
"The rest are being hunted down," he informed her, pulling
her down the stairs. "No mercy this time. I'm never giving these
people the opportunity to do this again."
See? Two different people, polar opposites, but the same.
Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, the former the hero and the latter the
villain. But neither was completely light or dark. They had both in
themselves, both could be dark, both could be light. Both believed
in no mercy and both loved her.
Light and dark, good guys and bad guys. It wasn't as black
and white as people thought.
The end