Disclaimer: Bah.

A/N: These kids are so cray cray.

Pretending To Live

Chapter 22: Edge

"Alphard!" I screamed, "Alphard!"

"...terrible, terrible, Albus..."

"I know, Noelle."

"The boy's parents have been informed. They're on their way now."

A deep sigh. "That is for the best. I'll see them in myself."

There was a short, pregnant silence and then: "But I don't understand...he wasn't pushed...?"

"He jumped," I spoke up hoarsely and both Professor Dumbledore and Madame Laroche stared at me. We were in the Hospital Wing; I was sitting on one of their beds while we waited for...I don't know.

Madame Laroche clapped a hand to her mouth. "He...?"

"He was...he was behind me and...when I turned around...he..."

I buried my face in my hands and Madame Laroche gave a dry sob.

"Ari," Dumbledore said gently, "did Alphard say anything to you, before?"

"No," I said through my hands. "Something about a Snitch. I don't know."

There was another silence. I didn't look up; I didn't want to see the fear on Madame Laroche's face, nor the grave expression on Dumbledore's.

"Noelle," Dumbledore said at last, "please look after Miss de Lioncourt while I am away."

"Of course, Albus."

"Ari?" He said quietly and I looked up. His blue eyes were very gentle."You have had a terrible night. You need rest."

I dropped my eyes back down to my hands. Madame Laroche began to busy herself preparing a flask of Pepperup Potion and I let my gaze wander vacantly along the floor of the Wing. I don't know how much time passed- whether it was minutes or hours- but suddenly the long nosed, freckly face of Ron Weasley was in front of me. I blinked, startled out of my stupor.

"Ron?" I croaked. "What are you doing here?"

He held up a bandaged hand. "I just arrived. Tentacula got me and Hermione reckoned the bite was starting to get infected...well, she was right of course," he muttered, looking dour. "I met Dumbledore on the way and he said you'd be here. He didn't look too happy, did he?"

I didn't say anything and he shot me a curious glance. "What's up?"

"Alphard's dead," I said and he sucked in a gasp.

"Dead?" He said incredulously. "What are you talking about, I just saw the bloke yesterday-"

"I saw it. He..." I broke off, shutting my eyes against memory. I was getting very good at pushing away unpleasant thoughts. But something that Ron had said resonated and grateful for a distraction, I focused all my energy into pondering the reason for why that was. It reminded me of something Alphard had said in the Library...that he was tired because...because of the late night meetings...

That had to be the Knights of Walpurgis, didn't it? I don't know why I was even so appalled by this...no, I was fooling myself. It was simple: I had underestimated Riddle's penchant for Dark magic...

Ron gave a muffled groan and I glanced up. He was rubbing his eyes and shaking his head slowly.

"You okay?" I said.

"Yeah," he replied, but a frown came to his face. "I've just…I've been having such strange thoughts..."

I stared at him. Then there was a bang like a shotgun and he was on the ground, bound tightly from head to foot by the ropes I had conjured out of thin air and my wand pointed at his face.

"What on earth is going on-" squawked Madame Laroche as he ran out from her office looking very flustered and I directed my wand at her.

"Stupefy!" I shouted and she crumpled to the ground as a jet of red light hit her squarely in the chest.

"Ari!" Ron choked out, clawing at the ropes around his chest, "Are you mad, what are you-"

I crouched down beside him and grabbed a fistful of his robes, hauling up. "Ron, this is very important. When was the last time you spoke to Riddle?"

"Riddle?" He spluttered. "I dunno, last night I guess- what the hell are you-"

"Listen to me! Did you have a Knights meeting last night?"

"Yeah-how'd you…?"

Face very pale, I let him go and stood up. I made a start for the doors and Ron yelled, "Hey! Are you just going to leave me here?!"

"Ron," I said urgently. "I'm really sorry, but you're in danger and this is the only way you'll be safe."

"In danger from what?"

"Yourself," I muttered but I was already in the corridor outside.

As I ran, I fumbled for the Map I always carried in my robes and followed its directions to the tiny black dot labelled 'Tom Riddle' until I found its real life counterpart. He was standing in front of one of the stone archways not unlike the one the one that Alphard had jumped from; it looked like he had just finished his rounds. He turned around, frowning and I stopped feet away from him. "Ariadne?"

"Tell me how to stop it." Each syllable rang through the air.

"What?"

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about!" I shouted. "You've been testing the Second Locket, haven't you?"

He became as still as a statue but his grey eyes narrowed infinitesimally. Riddle regarded me coldly and then said simply, "Yes, I have."

Tears of fury sprung to my eyes and I spat through gritted teeth, "How do I stop it?"

"Ravenclaw's Locket," he replied, still looking at me as though I were some sort of fascinating specimen of alien life, "Both lockets reverse the other's magic."

I whirled around and sprinted again for the Hospital Wing; I burst through the double doors to see Ron, still bound, convulsing on the ground. His eyes were rolling back into his head and nonsense mumblings spewed from foam-flecked lips; it sounded like the names of his brothers. At his side, his hands clenched and scrabbled uselessly on the floor.

I ran to him and crouched down. I fumbled for the Locket and held it over him, uncertain of whether this was the right way to do it.

"C'mon," I muttered wildly. "Work!"

To my surprise, the chain grew hot and the Locket glowed searingly white. Then in a blink it was back to normal and Ron was stirring groggily on the floor.

"What...? What happened to me? Why am I tied up?"

I nearly sobbed with relief. I told him all that had happened-leaving out the Lockets, so it was a rather patchy recount- and he was stunned into silence.

"Blimey," he said shakily, "you won't catch me at another Knights meeting after this, let me tell you..."

"Did you see T-did you see Riddle speak to anyone else?"

"No, it was only a few of us he called up afterwards," he frowned, forgetting even that he was still tied up. "Me, Alphard...wait,"he said suddenly. "Oh hell."

"What?"

"Harry," he said, a look of dawning horror coming over his face. "He got him too!"

The blood drained completely out of my face. I scrambled to my feet was out of the Wing again, checking the Map for another minute figure. Horror, as ugly as a fevered nightmare, rose in me as I saw his tiny ink counterpart hovering very close to the edge of the Astronomy Tower balcony and I ran, my legs leaden, knowing I was moving too slow to stop it, to do anything...

I took the stairs three at a time, clawing my way up desperately and it was a twisted sort of miracle when I saw the familiar thin figure standing on the very same stone ledge that Riddle and I had once leaned against the night I had kissed him...

I didn't scream out a warning, didn't even call out his name. Instead, I simply sprinted towards him- he was rocking on the tips of his toes now, only inches away from empty air- and seized the back of his robes just as he began to fall. I dragged him backwards and we tumbled to the ground together.

As he struggled to get up, I pushed him back down, pinning him with an arm and fumbling for my wand with the other. But his knee came up hard and I gasped, winded; my wand flew out of my grip and clattered away.

"I have to kill him, mum!" Harry yelled and stretched out for the ledge and I slammed my elbow into his jaw so that his glasses flew off and he fell back on the ground. I threw my full weight on him, moving so that I was straddling his middle and pinned his arms down with my knees.

"Harry-Harry-"

He howled and thrashed under me. "I have to do it, it has to be me-"

One of his arms managed to get free and his fist caught me in the temple. I reeled back, seeing stars and he escaped my grip, struggling on fours to get back to the ledge.

"No!" I caught a fistful of his hair and yanked him back, I tackled him to the floor; my hand gripped around his throat.

"It's me, it's my fault!" Harry screamed, "He's going to kill them, mum!"

"I'm not your bloody mum!" I snarled at him and pulled the Locket out from under my blouse. It glowed white hot; Harry howled-

And then everything was quiet, the Locket only a silent warmth at my throat.

I stared desperately into his eyes, searching for some glimmer of recognition in their depths. A crease formed between his brows and he said, "Ari?"

I sagged with relief and scrambled off him. I buried my head in hands again to hide the tears running down my face and Harry looked around, shaking and covered in cold sweat as though he had run a race. "What-what happened to me?"

"I'm sorry," I said into my hands, "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."

"What are you talking about?"

"I helped him," I moaned, "I helped him make his Horcruxes."

Harry stared at me. He was squinting, blinking fast because he didn't have his glasses but there was no mistaking the expression of disbelief on his face. "Ari, what are you talking about?"

"I was dying." The words came out in a desperate rush. "I needed help, but there was nothing anyone could do- anyone except him. So I made a deal- his Horcruxes for my corpus defessum...my sickness."

I looked beseechingly at him, begging him to understand my fear, my reasons for what I did what I did. But he only stared back, his eyes wide with horror and revulsion. He looked as though he were trying to find a way out of the barrage of information I was giving him

"I don't understand," he said, at last.

And so I told him. I told him everything- about my corpus, about the Twin Lockets, where I had been the night of the Christmas dance and what had happened in the days succeeding between Riddle and I...

"I'm sorry," I said, again and again. "I'm so sorry."

But he didn't reply; he looked angry and sick all at once. He couldn't even meet my eyes. It had begun to rain; in the distance, thunder clapped and a bolt of lightning ran through the sky.

"I can't let anymore people die," I murmured to my hands, "I have to stop this. I have to stop him...but I..."

I looked directly at Harry. "I need more Time."

He met my eyes and then he understood; his hand flew to his wand but mine was already out.

"Obliviate!" I shouted.

His eyes slid out out of focus and his expression became dreamy; I caught him as he slumped down.

"I'm sorry," I said again.

I left him in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room and returned back to the Hospital Wing where I fixed up the mess I had caused there as best as I could. And the whole time, I kept on thinking about the apple that Riddle had once given me, and by accepting, what that had meant for me...

"You lied to me." My words echoed in the empty stone corridor where Riddle was already seated on one of the archways, waiting for me. "You told me you this wasn't your doing."

"It wasn't," he replied, staring out at the rain. "Miss Fawley was the one who set herself on fire, not me."

"Don't play with me!" I shouted. "How could you? He was a good guy, how could...how could you..."

He tilted his head to one side and watched me. "How did you know I had been using the Second?"

"The Snitch," I said, closing my eyes. "He-Alphard- he wanted to be Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons...it was his dream, he said, his lifelong desire..."

"Bertram Caldwell," Riddle listed each of the names of those he had harmed in a bored voice, ticking them off on his fingers. "Ambition. He wanted to be academically and internationally recognized as an author. I made him unable to speak, write or communicate with the Locket's power.

"Nora Fawley. Vanity. She wanted to use her beauty to find herself a handsome husband and live in a big house with their children. I made her set fire to the features which she had prized for so long…"

I felt physically ill. "Alphard Black...he wanted to be a Quidditch player and you made him jump to his death. Ron...Harry..."

"Ah, that one was rather odd," Riddle remarked conversationally. "Did you know what his desire was, Ariadne?"

I shook my head mutely.

His eyes widened dramatically and he leaned towards me. "Why, he wanted to kill someone!"

I backed slowly away from him and he stood up.

"Of course I had to oblige him...but, seeing as I unfortunately didn't see who he wanted to kill, I thought himself would be a good start..."

"You're sick," I hissed at him but he only raised a disbelieving brow.

"Don't be so hypocritical, Ari. You yourself tested out the powers of the First Locket when I first gave it to you, did you not?"

"That was different!" I shouted. "No one got hurt! No one died by my hands, Riddle!"

"Ah," he said, smiling broadly, "I think Miss Hornby would beg to differ."

"How-how dare you-that was-"

"Different?" He shook his head slowly and approached me. "No, it's not, I'm afraid. You led Olive to her death because you were afraid to face yours... and I? I ruined and killed them because I knew that only I was worthy to wield the full power of Salazar Slytherin, and to use it as I see fit. To establish wizards in their rightful place-on the dust of the bones of Muggles," He spat out the last word and his eyes were wild with excitement. "In both cases, it is a question of the greater good. Was it better for Miss Hornby to die or yourself? Is it better that the Second's powers remained untapped and wasted...or that some would suffer in order to usher in a new era of power?"

I was backed up against the wall; he stopped advancing. He bent down and his lips were only inches away from mine.

"Exactly the same," he murmured.

A surge of pure hatred ran through me and then two things happened at once: at my neck, Ravenclaw's Locket became blistering hot and Riddle jumped backwards from me with a pained grimace. His hands were at his throat and when he took them away there a nasty red burn that roped around his neck. Reflexively, I touched my own but the skin there was perfectly smooth.

"Well," Riddle panted, "the First certainly seems to work better for you than it did me."

I gripped the Locket tightly in my fist and staggered away from him; when I was free from his sight, I bent over to the side of the outdoor path and was sick in one of the bushes. Coughing, and revolted beyond thought at everything I had gone through, I made my way to the Gryffindor Tower.

888

"I need more Time."

"Are you okay?" Harry asked me during our free period the next day. We were both working our essays on non verbal protective spells.

I forced myself not to look at the red marks around his neck from when my nails had dug into it during our fight and I nodded. "Fine."

"I heard about Alphard," he said quietly. "His parents collected his stuff in the Slytherin dormitory this morning."

I put my quill down and concentrated very hard on my hands. "Professor Merrythought's retiring because of it. I heard him at the staff table."

"It's Riddle," Harry said. When I didn't immediately reply he said, frustrated, "I just know it is, Ari-"

"Of course it is," I said tiredly. "It was always Riddle."

I put my head on my arms. I needed time to think about this. About what I was going to do.

What better time than the present, as they say?

The First Locket that hung around my neck, despite its diminutive size, felt like an immeasurably heavy burden. I felt like I was being dragged down because of it. And it was a burden in every sense, because just by having it, I held the lives of an infinite number of innocent people in my hands. If I didn't reunite it with the Second in our future…

"The world is running out of time." Dumbledore's words from so long ago roared in my mind.

What was the matter with me? It was though I had suddenly been doused with cold water and I was seeing my actions again through new eyes. How selfish was I, to withhold something so important from my friends? Simply because I...

I shut my eyes and forced myself to think the words.

I wanted to stay. The ultimate taboo. I wanted to stay here, in 1945. Here, I had everything I'd been searching for for the past three years: a home, friends...and perhaps something more than that. Whatever Dumbledore may have said, I knew deep down in my heart of hearts that I didn't belong here, in this wonderful, frightening world full of magic. And when we returned to 1997, I knew that the distinction would be all the more apparent. There would be no mission, no purpose to hide behind. Just a girl, in a world that did not belong to her.

Riddle was proof enough of that. I was only so arrogant as to believe that I could change him, that my presence would somehow negate all his past and future wrongs. I was only so foolish to think, 'yes, but he's really a good person underneath it all, believe me...'

But he was not mine. I could not change who he was at my whim and fancy. I could not change who he was going to become.

I couldn't change Fate.

"Ari?" Harry said and I resurfaced.

"You know, I'm not really feeling well. I think I'll drop in around the Hospital Wing for a bit." I gathered my things into my bag and left.

As I rounded the corner though, I changed direction so that I wasn't heading to the Wing at all, but the Transfiguration office.

I was going to see Dumbledore.

I had to tell him everything- Riddle's Horcruxes, my corpus defessum, the Twin Lockets. I would take whatever punishment awaited me-even though just the thought of it made my palms sweat and my heartbeat accelerate- because I deserved it. I couldn't let anyone else get hurt because of me. I wasn't being a martyr; I was only doing what I should have done long ago.

Dumbledore's office was only two more corridors away but I stopped abruptly in my tracks. I became very still; all the hairs on my body rose and the Locket around my neck warmed faintly.

"What are you doing, Tom?" I said without turning around. I knew without looking that he was at the end of the corridor behind me and the Locket grew hotter the closer he moved.

"I could ask you the same," he replied softly. My fingers inched towards the Locket. "Did you need to see Professor Dumbledore?"

"Of course."

"What about?" His tone was polite, disinterested even. But even though he wasn't mine, I knew him and I could her the strains of tension and anger in his voice.

My hand crept up higher. "Oh, this and that. Homework."

"I could help you with that," he said quietly. He was moving closer.

"I'd rather you not."

"Why is that?"

I stayed silent.

"Don't you trust me?" He murmured. My fingers found the Locket; I turned it-

Time stopped.

I whirled around in time to conjure a silvery white shield; the red curse Riddle had fired at the same time collided heavily with it with a noise like a gong. With a wave of my wand, my shield disappeared and I shot a volley of purple hexes at him

He vanished them with a sweeping movement and then another spell was flying at me like a bullet; I held up my bag to block it; it split and its contents tumbled to the ground. I pointed my wand at it and immediately a mass of books, quills and ink bottles rose in the air; I directed them at Riddle and then turned tail and ran for Dumbledore's office as Riddle's howls as he was attacked by my school things rang through the air.

Heart pounding, I sprinted down another corridor. I managed to get a fair distance away when the First Locket glowed a warning at my throat and I twisted around to block another curse from a dishevelled looking Riddle while I was still running.

I heard him shout something behind me and suddenly the armored knights that decorated the sides of Hogwarts' halls leapt down. I skidded to a stop, eyes wide and mouth open as they formed two straight lines in the middle of the corridor and began to march towards me, their spears and battleaxes held threateningly out the side so that the way around them was blocked.

I threw a desperate glance behind me; Riddle was approaching, his mouth curving into a smirk, and I swore. I looked back at the line of knights and began to run straight for them. I aimed my wand at the floor.

"Glacius!" I shouted and the carpet running between the knights turned to ice; I hit the ground and screamed as the momentum of my run carried me so that I slid on the ice through the barrier of knights. I tumbled to a stop and scrambled to my feet; I started running again and Riddle bellowed a curse.

Something caught around my ankles and I fell; I looked down and saw ropes like live vines twisting their way around my legs and I slashed at them frantically with my wand. They broke into pieces that thrashed on the ground like snakes and they crawled towards me.

"Incendio!" I yelled and they burst into flame.

Panting, I glanced longingly at the last corridor I had to run to get to Dumbledore's office but when I looked back I knew it was too late; Riddle had reduced his barrier to dust and was striding towards me, a mad red glint in his eyes.

And suddenly I was furious- at him, at myself. How dare he, to try and stop me. How dare I, to let him.

I pushed myself upright, gripping my wand until my nails cut into my palms, and faced him dead on: him at one end of the corridor and myself at the other. We stared at each other, red against brown, for a long time, the both of us as still as statues.

Then he raised his wand; I mirrored the movement, and we began to duel for real.

Light crackled across the walls as spells were deflected and fired; our wands flashed and blurred like swords. He was the better spellcaster, of course, and once he could have beaten me easily. But I'd spent every day and every night with him since once and I was all too familiar with his style and a lot harder to kill because of it.

I ducked under his jinx and ignored its explosion in a cloud of smoke that obscured my vision; I aimed dead center of the grey fog and fired a curse of my own. Immediately the fog vanished and Riddle was staring at me; his eyes wide with shock as he touched the long, deep cut at the side of his neck that was now bleeding profusely onto his clothes.

"I missed," I called out, trying to hide the breathlessness of my voice. His eyes darkened in response and his face became thunderous behind his mask of eerie calm. I raised my wand and we were fighting again, amidst the wreckage of debris and dust at our feet.

I was beginning to feel triumphant; slowly but surely we were edging backwards along the final corridor before Dumbledore's office. If I could just get us closer, I could restart Time and-

I deflected three silver curses from Riddle, all fired one after the other; I raised my wand just as Riddle brought his down-

A bolt of violent purple light sliced through my body and we both froze. His eyes were wide, the skin around them a taut white and my expression mirrored his shock.

Drip. Drip.

I looked down at my arms. Fresh cuts and scratches were opening all over my forearms; I gave a gasp of pain as the healed wound on my shoulder from the Albanian forest reopened.

My wand fell from my hand that was slippery with my own blood and I opened it to see that the twin scars that ran along my palm were a gaping, raw red; the Locket flared hot...

"Ariadne?"

I collapsed to the ground, breathing deep gash Riddle had once inflicted on the whole left side of my face and that been healed by Madame Laroche so long ago reopened and I began to cough as something hot and violent clawed its way up my throat.

Then blood, black and thick splattered onto the floor.

There were footsteps then, but they were muffled by the roar of my faltering heart in my ears, as did the shouts of the boy beside me…

My vision trembled around the edges; it vanished altogether.

And then I was gone, gone, gone.

888

It was so quiet.

Not a whisper of wind, not a sigh of a breath. Not the ticking of passing Time.

It was so quiet.

I opened my eyes. It took them some moments to adjust. Where was I? I thought I recognized the ceiling, but it was hard to tell, it was so dark...

My throat was so dry; it felt like it was burning. My whole body ached, but not in the way that I expected- not the surface ache of physical exertion, but deeper somehow- a ringing, weary ache that came from deep in my bones. I felt heavy, like I was sinking into the bed I was lying on.

What happened to me? A dull panic made itself known at the back of my mind. There had been so much blood, I remembered...

I tried to sit up but I felt weak; my arms collapsed as they failed to support my weight and I fell back on my pillow, abruptly tired.

"You're awake."

The hoarse, scratchy voice startled me. My eyes had some trouble making out the shape sitting in the chair beside my bed-I was in the Hospital Wing, I realized suddenly- and the person pulled his chair closer so that I could see him.

It was Riddle-but Riddle as I had never seen him before. His face was pale and gaunt and there were deep purple shadows under his bloodshot eyes. His hair was sticking up in all directions and dark stubble was budding around his jaw. He looked terrible-if I hadn't known better, I would have thought him to be a corpus defessum victim too.

My eyes travelled down to the collar of his shirt, which was splattered gruesomely with blood from the still unhealed wound at his neck.

"I didn't think you were going to wake up," he said, when I said nothing. "You've been asleep for almost a week."

I looked around and he read my expression.

"I brought you to the Hospital Wing," he explained and he cleared his throat. It sounded like he hadn't spoken in a while. "I had to use your Locket to stop Time again. The spell broke when you..."

I didn't say anything. The silence dragged on between us and then Riddle did something very uncharacteristic; he buried his face in his hands.

"I thought I was going to kill you," he whispered. "I so nearly did."

I stared, uncomprehending of his reaction but he continued on, apparently speaking more to himself than me.

"Why didn't I? Why shouldn't I kill you right now, with my bare hands?" He removed his hands and contemplated me coldly. "It would be very easy."

I only stared back at him.

"I thought this would be different," he muttered after a while. "I didn't expect you would go to Dumbledore...how could I? When you..."

His gaze was dark and perfectly unreadable.

"I should have killed you then and there. But..." He stared at his hands, "you're alive, aren't you?"

He looked up at me and I flinched. His cold facade had been stripped completely and what I saw behind it frightened me: his eyes were wild and his expression was torn between fury and something like desperation.

"What does that mean, then? I could have left you!" He shouted suddenly and I recoiled. He looked like a madman, driven completely past the edge and all the more dangerous because of it. He stood up, the movement sending his chair crashing down to the floor and began to pace rapidly, like an animal in a cage. "I could have left you to bleed to your death on that floor-and if you died? So much the worse for you, so much the better for me," he said bitterly.

"Yet here you sit in front of me." He smiled without humor. "Heart beating, breathing. Alive," he spat.

His chest was rising and falling rapidly; he turned away and he gripped his hair as though to rip it out; the tendons standing out hard against his skin. Then, in a movement so quick it took my breath away, he was kneeling by my bed, gripping my wrists with a crushing force.

"Tell me why I shouldn't do it," he said, and his grey eyes were desperate again as I looked down at him. "Tell me why I cannot do it."

I remained silent.

"Answer me!" He screamed and it echoed off the walls: answer me, answer me, answer me...

But only silence replied and I thought for one awful moment that I saw the last shred of sanity leave his eyes- but he merely closed them and staggered back to his upturned chair. He set it upright and slumped into it, his breathing ragged as though we had duelled again.

I was afraid of him. I truly was. But not for the reasons that one might think-not because he had nearly killed me, not because some part of him still wanted to...

I was afraid of him because he hadn't. And there were many implications that followed that negative, and some were far worse than death because I realized what it meant even though he hadn't...because he couldn't...because it was impossible, for him...

"Get me out of here." My voice was rougher than his; it cracked in the room's silence.

Riddle looked up; his exhausted eyes snapped to my own. Then, very quietly: "Where?"

"Anywhere."

He stood up-I could hear his joints protest at the motion- and without preamble, scooped me from the bed so that he carried me in his arms, my legs dangling uselessly from one side of his cage.

I returned the gaze he gave me and nodded. The Locket was burning around my neck and I could feel the heat from his through his shirt. Somehow I knew without asking that the combined magic of the Founders' lockets would let us Disapparate from the school that they helped build with their own hands but I didn't have time to think much on it because Riddle turned on the spot-

And then the smell of salt surrounded us and there was the sound of distant crashing in the background. The wind whipped my hair back from my face and I tasted the briny scent of sea.

"Where are we?" I whispered. He set me down carefully on a black boulder and I winced because it felt like all the bones in my body jolted with the movement. It took me a minute to get my breath back and while I did, Tom wrapped his cloak around me and then straightened up, looking in the direction of the wind.

We were standing on a high outcrop of dark rock. It was night and the waves that churned below were the same impenetrable black as the sky above. Behind us, a towering cliff stood, flat and as solid as a wall.

"I used to come here when I was younger," he murmured and his eyes were as dark as the sea. "There was a village that they used to take us to..." He trailed off. "I don't know why I thought of it."

"All the good memories?" I rasped. He only looked at me and I closed my eyes, fighting for breath again.

"No," he said slowly. "Nothing good." He sounded bitter.

"It's your fault."

He whipped around and he looked angry. "My fault?"

I nodded because it drained me just to say those few words and Tom gave a mocking laugh.

"Of course. Would you care to tell me why?"

"You hurt people," I said and the smile disappeared from his face. "People don't like being hurt."

"Why should that matter?" He replied cruelly.

My throat blazed and coughs that wracked my whole body ripped out of me. My head was spinning and I rested my clammy forehead on my knees. Everything hurt. I wanted to shield myself from the sting of the salt spraying up from the waves but I was too exhausted to move my arms.

Suddenly Tom was at my side and he pulled his cloak tighter around me.

"I shouldn't have brought you here," he muttered. His fingers caught the loose strands of my hair and he pulled them away from my face with a gentleness that was disconcerting. I raised my head to his and he stopped, as if realizing what he was doing. His grey eyes grew tight and he disappeared from my side so that the wind whipped my face again. He stood at the very edge of the outcrop, his posture rigid and his hands behind his back.

I watched him and the fear welled up again. Hermione's words echoed in my mind and it was only now that I was beginning to appreciate the full truth of them: it's dangerous...

And it was, because we were both balanced perilously on the edge of something that was desperately unfamiliar to both of us, an abyss that was as dark and wild and frightening as the ocean that churned perilously beneath Riddle's feet. I wanted to run away, run far, far away but at the same time I didn't want to leave him, this awful person who could not seem to bring himself to kill me.

Then in a wave of comprehension so fierce I felt it burn as it washed over my body, I understood finally, finally, that this was it: this was the decision I had to make. The decision that mattered most in the end.

To fall, or to run?

What was worse: to lose love or life?

"Come back," I said abruptly. His head turned fractionally towards me. "Tom."

He remained frozen. Then slowly, he turned so that the rest of his body was facing me and then he was at my side. I could feel his gaze burning into my face but I couldn't meet his eyes.

I had to do it. I had to make the decision.

"Ari?" Tom murmured.

And so I did.

I couldn't speak; fatigue seemed to have rendered me mute. So it was in silence that I drew as close to him then as I had ever dared and slipped my hand in his. His fingers wrapped unconsciously around mine and I was grateful beyond belief of their bruising grip as I, at last, sealed my Fate.

A/N: These stupid kids. I don't even know at this point which one could be considered crazier.

But I did enjoy writing this sort of internal conflict- Riddle's desire for control and battle against the loss of it, and Ari's struggle between right and wrong. And erhmagawd, relationship development, hnnnnghhh-

Hope you enjoyed, as usual. It'd be much appreciated if you leave a review- I'm trying to see if I can hit the 200 milestone in the last three chapters I have left of this story, haha- but regardless, I still wholeheartedly thank you for sticking around to read these words.

Until next time!