A/N: Sometimes love and insanity go hand in hand. Tom/Minerva. Inspired by Harley/Joker. I'm surprised I wrote so much, since I usually write less than 500 words.
Submission for:
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): Care of Magical Creatures Assignment #5 - Write about someone driven to literal insanity.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
She looks around the burning tables and crumbling walls around her. She listens to the dying screams of her colleagues with half an ear.
She can't believe she's gotten herself into this mess, that she is the cause for all this. She's usually so careful, so thorough. She always had a plan, and a backup plan, but all it took was one mistake, one fatal flaw, to make everything fall apart.
"Minerva," she hears from behind her, the soft yet high pitched voice sending a shiver through her spine.
She doesn't turn, she doesn't give him satisfaction. He tricked her. He manipulated her, planted lies and feelings in her head, and made her do all this.
Her sudden resilience makes him chuckle. He takes almost soundless steps towards her before he places a cold hand on her shoulder. She jumps, causing the chuckle to turn into a loud laugh.
She turns, her eyes meeting with his bright red ones and freezing her in place.
"Don't worry, dear. I'm not going to kill you," he says softly. He raises his hand to caress her cheek slowly, and she fights the urge to flinch under his touch.
For a moment, she can remember how he used to be, the love and care that he used to show her during their times together before the incident. In this moment, she softens, her facade falters, and she doesn't recognize the smile on his face for what it truly is.
The next second, she lets out a painful gasp as she's slammed against the wall by an invisible force, her arms and legs spread and her wrists and ankles held in place. He raises his wand and whispers so sweetly, "I'm just going to hurt you real bad."
She leans against the cold stone wall as she stares out of her cell. This is her home now, as it has been for she can't remember how long - she lost count after about two weeks. She doesn't even know how long before she had been here - she woke up inside the cell after she passed out from the pain he inflicted on her.
She scrambles to the back of the cell as she hears a door open in the darkness. She's come to associate that sound with nothing good.
"Bad kitty," the blonde haired man says as he approaches the iron bars, laughter glinting in his eyes.
She snarls though she doesn't move from her position. The blond was one of his people, the one she had let into the facility to free him. He trusted the blonde haired man somewhat, enough to put the man in charge of her daily affairs. But she knew the blond was dispensable, just like all his followers. Only she knew who he truly was, only she was the one he couldn't let go. Sometimes she wishes he would.
The blond places a bowl through the door to her cell. She reaches out with a hand and upturns the bowl, spilling the contents onto the stone floor.
"Minerva," the blond chides, "You know if you don't eat he gets upset." He withdraws wand and waving it at the spill. The liquid flies back into the bowl and everything is as it was a few seconds ago.
But Minerva doesn't care. She wants the man to get upset. She wants him to take out his anger on her and finish her once and for all, to make her pay for her mistakes. She reaches out and swipes at the bowl once more.
Red rises up the blond's neck and aims his wand at her. "I'm going to teach you some manners. Cruc-"
"Lucius!" a loud voice booms in the darkness behind the blond.
The wand pointed at her face falls instantly to the man's side as he falls to his knees. "My Lord," he grovels.
Soon he is standing at her cell door, and again, those bright red eyes pierce her in the darkness.
"Tom," she breathes, a slight curl on her lips. She crawls towards him, despite her hatred of this place and the fact that he is the one that put her here. Other feelings are overpowering her, strange feelings she still cannot understand but the same ones that got her to help him escape.
But then a sneer comes across his and he glares at her. He raises his own wand and without hesitation, casts the same spell that the blond was just about to curse.
She falls on her side, her breathing heavy and her muscles aching once the spell is cut. Her face feels wet but she's not sure if it's her own tears, an open wound, or the spilled liquid she has landed in. She listens as his footsteps fade into the dark and he mutters, "Never call me that again." A second set of footsteps follows quickly after.
She stretches languidly against the bars of her cell, staring out into the darkness. She's been waiting all day for some sign of entertainment. Her visits have become less frequent now, the blond rarely comes at all - always sending someone else in his place, but every day, she gets at least one visit from him, the one visit she actually looks forward to. But for some reason, he's late... or maybe she just thinks he is. Maybe she just wants to see him as much as he wants to see her.
"I wonder what's taking him?" she asks out loud.
"Maybe you should start screaming," a voice responds. "That'll get his attention."
"Or you could cut yourself," another says, a bit deeper that the other. "He always seems to know when you're bleeding."
She giggles, "But he wants to be the one to cause the bleeding, not me." She pouts and adds, "He'll punish me."
The first voice says, "That could be fun," prompting her and the voices to all laugh.
The voices are her friends. They keep her company in the dark, but she doesn't know when or where they came from.
A lot of time has passed, and every day she continues to breathe, she owes to him and his love for her. Even the curses no longer hurt as much. Sometimes, she thinks he's holding back. He doesn't want to hurt to her too much. He takes her to the edge but doesn't send her over. And when she wakes up after passing out, she sees him there, just staring at her without saying anything. She knows that if he wanted to, he could kill her without thinking. She's seen him kill others right in front of her cell for just coughing too much. But she's still here, and he still comes to see her every day.
The door in the darkness opens and she grins, making sure to stretch even more helplessly across the bars. He likes to see her this way, almost dying for his attention.
"Voldy!" she says, her voice high-pitched like an innocent child. "You've finally come!"
His expression doesn't change as he raises his wand and the bright red spell flies towards her. She gasps at the impact, the pain still somewhat surprising, but she bears it, giving him a feral grin as she maintains his gaze throughout the onslaught. She feels the pain level increasing, the glint in his eyes getting stronger, but she doesn't look away, she doesn't scream.
Eventually, the spell stops. She leans against the bars, slightly exhausted, but she doesn't fall. She just laughs.
This prompts a grin to spread across his own lips. He points to the lock and the bars swing open. She stands up straight and smiles, but before she can wonder what this means, he captures her mouth with his, his arms wrapping around her. His kiss is fierce, his teeth biting into her cracked, but soft lips. His nails digs into the thin skin over her sharp hips. She falls into him, realizing that she's finally getting what she always wanted.
Then it is quickly over. He pulls away but he doesn't let her out of his arms. He stares deeply into her eyes and asks, "Are you ready to help me, Minerva?"
Her smile widens and she says, "Of course, Voldy."