Author Note: The song lyrics are the English translations of the lyrics of "Ne Me Quitte Pas" by Jacques Brel.
Don't Leave Me Now
The man stirred. A wave of sharp, poignant pain engulfed him- his own, heavy breathing echoed against the inside of his mind, and he gave up every further attempt to move.
It was enough, after all. He'd gambled and lost- it was over and he had been defeated in the end. And perhaps, indeed, it had been her face which had meant his downfall in the end. Her face- which seemed to be so terribly close now…
But no- no, it was no vision!
She crouched down next to his almost lifeless form- her long, black hair thick and loose, the way she had always bluntly refused to wear it in public. Half of her pale face was covered in strange, greyish dust- but the green eyes were big and expressive- the way they had always been.
As she casually, almost- accidentally- rested her hand against his shoulder, he managed to get hold of it somehow. He did not hesitate.
Perhaps she had not meant the gesture this way- perhaps she'd merely wanted to check whether he was still alive, for her own and the world's sake- but he did not care.
Lord Voldemort was past caring.
And when he heard his own voice- laboriously- slowly- painfully, he did not even sigh.
"Don't leave me now."
Don't leave me now
We must just forget
All we can forget
All we did till now
Let's forget the cost
Of the breath we've spent
Saying words unmeant
And the times we've lost
Hours that must destroy
Never knowing why
Everything must die
At the heart of joy
Don't leave me now
Don't leave me now
Don't leave me now
She did not leave, and it surprised him somehow. Then again she had never really left him- it was he who had, through his behaviour, pushed her away.
"Don't- leave me now, Minerva."
"I won't, Tom."
Her voice was calm- and it as it reached his tired ears, it brought memories with it. Memories of a past during which once, the word "happiness" had been applicable to him- to her. Memories of the smiling face of a young, pretty girl- memories of that girl in his arms- memories of him playing with her thick, black braid- memories of her happy sigh.
And now they were old and grey- well, at least his hair showed traces of silver. Hers was as thick and black as ever. It was really amazing, the man pondered, how young she still looked- even at the middle age of seventy-two. Her skin had wrinkled a bit, of course- around her eyes and the thin line that was her mouth- but her green, fiery eyes still smouldered with the flame of youth as she held his hand in silence.
And he remembered the promises he'd made her, once, long ago.
And he made them again.
I'll bring back to you
The clear pearls of rain
From a distant domain
Where rain never fell
And though I grow old
I'll keep mining the ground
To deck you around
In sunlight and gold
I'll build you a domain
Where love's everything
Where love is the king
And you are the queen
Don't leave me now
Don't leave me now
Don't leave me now
A strange shadow of a smile played around her curled lips as she squeezed his motionless hand His face was covered in shadows- in wounds, but then again that was how she had always known him. A man of shadows- a man of wounds.
And he didn't frighten her anymore- and not just because he was dying. Simply because finally, after all those years, she had spotted another, tiny glimpse of the boy she'd been in love with all those years before. Of Tom- and Tom had never scared her. Lord Voldemort had- and for many years she had been frightened, simply because she'd believed that nothing of Tom had remained.
Now she knew that she'd been mistaken. Now, in the hour of his death, she had finally met Tom Riddle again. Even the Lord's voice had altered- and in his eyes lay the fear of the dead, but also the blind trust of the young…
"For-"
She looked into his eyes, and in the deep abyss of darkness she read- love.
"For you-"
For you I'll invent
Words and what they meant
Only you will know
Tales of lovers who
Fell apart and then
Fell in love again
Since their hearts stayed true
There's a story too
That I can confide
Of that king who died
From not meeting you
Don't leave me now
Don't leave me now
Don't leave me now
"Tom, I-"
But no more could she say. No more words were needed, either, for though they did not share their ideas they did share memories- lots of them- and those proved to be enough. Memories of days and nights shared during their seventh year at Hogwarts- memories of desperate kisses exchanged between classes, but also other memories.
Memories of anxious looks exchanged through trembling eyelashes- of knowing that it could not be, that they could never marry or have children together. That they could never share that what lovers wanted to share the most- a life.
Memories of heated discussions in the corridors. Of anger- of tears.
Memories of a parting.
And she had married in the end- married the man whom she had, despite that strange emotion which had always bound her to her first love, always loved very dearly. And he had turned away from her and that man, the way he always had. Perhaps understandable, perhaps even pardonable, but evil in the end…
But he had never stopped loving her, and now, as she held his hand, Minerva finally realized that. He had never stopped loving her with the only love he could feel for someone- the love of a madman.
An old love.
And often it's true
That flames spill anew
From ancient volcanos
We thought were too old
When all's said and done
Scorched fields of defeat
Could give us more wheat
Than the fine April sun
And when evening is nigh
With flames overhead
The black and the red
Aren't they joined in the sky?
Don't leave me now
Don't leave me now
Don't leave me now
"Minerva- I'm dying."
It was a strange thing, the black-haired witch pondered, to hear him speak her name again, after all those years. He'd always had his own way to pronounce it, so different from the way the others- even Albus- pronounced it. More tenderly- more… softly and yet more clearly. Minerva.
"Tom-"
"No, I know I'm dying and I most- probably- deserved- it."
He heavily coughed, and Minerva rested her hand against his forehead.
"Just-"
She nodded, eyesight suddenly blurred by the tears she knew she shouldn't be crying. As the salty drops touched his skin, a strange smile enfolded his almost greyish lips- and Lord Voldemort, Tom Riddle, squeezed Minerva McGonagall's hand.
"Just- don't- leave me- now…"
Don't leave me now
I will cry no more
I will talk no more
Hide myself somehow
And I'll see your smile
And I'll see you dance
And I'll hear you sing
Hear your laughter ring
Let me be for you
The shadow of your shadow
The shadow of your hand
The dog at your command
Don't leave me now
Don't leave me now
Don't leave me now
He died just a moment later, and Minerva's tears drew white lines in the gray dust on her face as she traced his features with a single finger.
"Goodbye, Tom."
With a slow, almost sacred movement, she spread out her emerald cloak over his lifeless form.
And she walked away. Away, to where the battlefield waited for their Deputy Headmistress, for their cool, determined Minerva, who would make sure everything was alright. Where the wizarding world was waiting for her- where Albus was.
And yet she never left.