Author's Note: This story coincides with canon, in that Tom's death is the same as it is at the end of Deathly Hallows. I wanted to take a look into Tom's afterlife, and I wanted to include Minerva as a major component in his Hogwarts years, so obviously it's going to deviate from canon a little. When writing this I was heavily influenced by the movie What Dreams May Come, and its image of "Hell".If you guys haven't seen it then I highly recommend it!
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing the characters. They will always belong to J.K. Rowling.
*
"What are you doing here?" Tom asked quietly, his arms wrapped tightly around himself as he sat, huddled in a dirty corner of the room. He hated this room, always had, but there was no way out this time. No doors, no windows, just ugly gray walls that were cracked and falling apart.
"How did you get in here? You're not supposed to be here!" His voice was weak, childlike and afraid. He had the body of a fifteen year old and yet he was nothing more then a scared little boy.
"I've come to see you." She spoke to him calmly, unafraid.
"Why?" He almost sobbed. He hurt, everything hurt here. "Have you come to take the pain away?"
Minerva's mouth trembled and her young, beautiful face looked so sad, so regretful.
"I can't do that Tom. I wish I could, but I can't."
She stepped closer to him and he stared up at her with wide eyes. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He had been in this room for who knows how long and all he had for all that time was nothing but ugliness and horror as memory after awful memory had plagued him over and over, hurting him, making him scream apologies to people who couldn't hear them.
"I had to see you one last time." She whispered and she stepped even closer until she stood right in front of him, towering over him. She lowered herself down and sat on the dirty floor and they stared at each other.
Tom had tears streaming down his dirt stained face.
"Minerva," he choked, "Don't stay here. It's horrible here."
"It doesn't affect me Tom." She said sadly. "This is your hell. I've only come because… I miss you. Even Heaven is nothing without you there."
Tom's already pale lips went completely white. "H-heaven? You…"
She nodded. "I died Tom. Long after you though."
"No." He said miserably as more tears fell from his eyes.
"Shh, it's ok Tom. I'm in a good place."
"Good place," Tom whispered. "My Minerva, dead, in a good place." He sounded so drained, so lifeless, and that scared Minerva more than anything, because there was life after death but Tom looked and sounded as though he was dying all over again.
She reached a steady hand out towards him and he flinched, looking terrified.
"No please," He said desperately, "It hurts."
"This won't hurt Tom, I promise." Her hand grazed his pale, wet cheek and she shivered. He was so cold, devoid of the warmth that she possessed; the warmth of a healthy, happy soul that had seen the glory of heaven.
"You look exactly as you did in school Tom, do you remember?" Her hand caressed his high cheek bones and she ignored the dirt that smudged her fingers. "We were so young when we first met, young and innocent."
"No!" Tom screamed. Minerva cringed but she didn't pull away. "I was never innocent! Monstrous! I was damned even then; damned to be a monster."
Tom bowed his head onto his knees that were tucked close to his chest, and he cried, his body trembling from the force of his pain.
"No Tom," Minerva said softly, running her fingers through his dirty, unkempt hair. "You weren't a monster, you were lost and alone."
"Not alone." He said, head still bowed and voice muffled. "You were there, trying to help. I kept you close, tricked you, I made you love me. I hurt you, hit you, and raped you. And I didn't care, did I?"
His head shot up then and Minerva had to bite back a scream. He looked crazed, awful, his face suddenly old and lined with years and years of misery and regret. She reached out her hand and touched his cheek again and his face softened, the lines and wrinkles disappeared, and there was her Tom, his face still dirty and sad but still the handsome face that she remembered.
"Forgive me." He cried. "Forgive me, I didn't know. I didn't care how much I hurt you. But I can feel your pain now, like it was my own. I can feel your body breaking and bleeding as I raped you and you screamed and cried, and I didn't care. Forgive me."
Minerva moved forward then and took him in her arms and she held him close while he sobbed into her chest, holding her so tightly it hurt.
"Tom, I forgave you a long time ago. I forgive you of everything."
"No, I don't deserve it. I hurt you, and I can feel it. I hurt you so badly… so sorry. I hurt many and their pain is mine." He cried and she held him. She was surprised to feel how scratchy the material of his strange tunic was. It must be severely uncomfortable for him. Had he no peace here at all? Not even in his clothing that was gray and filthy?
Her heart ached for him.
"Can you forgive yourself Tom? Can you find peace within yourself?"
"No, never." Tom said miserably. "No peace, only horrors."
"No Tom!" She held him closer. "You can have peace, you just need to try. We forgive you Tom, we all do! Death is only for the body but the soul lives on. You killed, yes, but you are forgiven by those who live on in Heaven. Come with me and have peace."
Tom's grip on her loosened. He was pulling away.
"No way out of here. Trapped, trapped with the other orphans. I can hear the little ones screaming for their parents. They don't have parents, none of us do! All alone forever and ever."
"No! It doesn't have to be that way. Your parents are there Tom, waiting for you. Come with me. Come home." She begged and tried to hold onto him but he huddled back into his corner.
"I have no home! Orphaned and alone forever! Nothing but a monster, remember Minerva? You told me that. I remember, and then I hit you and your cheek burned like fire. I'm so sorry!" He was crying again as the painful memories overtook him once more.
"Tom," Minerva sobbed, "I can't stay any longer. I have to go. Please come with me!"
Tom's lifeless eyes stared into her bright ones. "Go." He whispered. "Go to your good place. You were always so good, you don't belong here. So beautiful and clean and pure. Go, my Minerva."
Minerva had tears streaming down her face. "No Tom, please!" She was fading. "Tom, I love…" She was gone. Vanished just as quickly as she had appeared.
He was alone again in the dark. In the room he had always hated, where he was trapped.
His beautiful Minerva was gone. Safe. Away from him, the monster.
"Voldemort," Tom whispered, and saying that name made his insides burn and he cried from the pain. Cried until he fell asleep. And when he dreamed, he dreamed of horrors.