AN: The last chapter. After almost two years, it's finally done. All I can say is enjoy.
Epilogue
Relief.
Relief was Tom's principal emotion over the next few weeks. He saw neither hide nor hair of his wife in that time. He assumed that she had locked herself in the far guest room and refused to come out. Whenever someone asked him where she was, he'd tell them she was extremely ill.
Most of his problem had been solved. The issue of the child was no more, but there was still the issue of Rosaline, and he knew he'd have to deal with it eventually. She knew too much, more than he wanted her to. He hated to admit it to himself, but he had misjudged her loyalty.
In Rosaline's absence, he'd made all the preparations for his further descent into darker magic than ever before. He'd decided to make the first Horcrux out of the ring he'd acquired from his uncle. Now all that he needed to do was decide whose death to use.
Emptiness.
Rosaline was empty, devoid, really, of any emotion in those weeks. She lay in the bed, quiet and almost motionless, cared for by the house-elf who had so detrimentally betrayed her. She was only aware of her surroundings in streams of consciousness. In the very back portion of her mind, she knew that she had made a mistake in involving herself so deeply with Tom Riddle.
If she were to be honest with herself, she had known it since that stormy night when Tom had followed her into the darkness of the corridors. She had only wanted to clear her head in the privacy of the sleeping castle, but he had stalked her like a cat stalking a mouse. Even though she had been too proud to admit it to herself, she'd always known.
She didn't have the strength to question the past. She barely had the strength to draw breath; it was an effort just to inhale and exhale. This is what her life had become, all because she had given herself fully to Tom Riddle.
--
Tom's heavy, even footfalls echoed in the darkness as he made his way to Rosaline's self-exile room. He knew exactly what was to be done, but as he approached the door, he realized that he did not know what he was going to say to her. He had been closer to her than any other human being. It wasn't ever love, but a deep, burning need. He had needed her up to this point. She had been a feather in his cap, and as close to a confidante as he would ever come. He knew all of this very well, and it was the reason he hesitated.
Slowly drawing breath, Tom placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it. As soon as he opened the door into the dimly lit room, the house-elf scurried out past his feet. He directed his attention towards the bed where his wife laid. He hadn't seen her in weeks. As he stepped closer, he saw her more clearly. Her face was sunken and unnaturally pale, and in it was only a shadow of her former beauty. When he stood next to the bed, she turned to look at him with expressionless eyes. Something deep within him twanged unpleasantly and made his stomach turn. Was it guilt?
Rosaline stared at her husband for a few moments before slowly sitting up. His eyes reminded her of stone.
"Hello, Rosaline," he said.
"Hello, my lord," she replied with the tiniest bit of wryness.
There was a long, steely pause. Both parties did not break eye contact, and nothing in the world could have made them.
Rosaline was the first to speak. "What have you come for?"
He didn't respond. Slowly, she stood from the bed for the first time in weeks, to face him.
Tom's face twitched slightly. The movement was so small that no one but the trained Rosaline would have noticed it. The weight of the words he was about to say was visible in his entire being. Rosaline had never seen him this way, but remained stoic nonetheless.
He took a deep, steadying breath, for what he was about to say was the purest truth he had ever and would ever tell.
"Rosaline, you've been closer to me than any other person. I didn't think I would ever let someone so close to me, reveal as much of myself to anyone, but you some. For some time, I was sure that you were perfect, that our relationship was perfection, but you betrayed me. You must understand this. Albus Dumbledore is my mortal enemy. By having any kind of contact with him, you ruined whatever trust I had in you. And your pregnancy was doomed from the beginning. You and I could never have raised a child, Rosaline. The risk would have been too great on many levels."
He paused, allowing her to fully absorb his words. She said nothing, but stared back at him intently. He continued.
"I must admit, I would never have foreseen the state into which you've fallen. Your former glory and beauty is now but a glimmer in you. I don't recognize you, Rosaline. This, I cannot bear. Over the years, I have crossed every single boundary of magic ever drawn. What I have achieved will be branded into the pages of history for eons to come. I have found a way to keep myself living eternally."
Rosaline's eyed widened slightly at this statement, but she remained silent.
"I have decided that I want you to be a part of this process. In order to preserve a piece of my soul, great steps must be taken…I must take the life of another, Rosaline." He stopped speaking as a thicker silence than before filled the room.
The truth dawned on Rosaline. She understood what he was saying and slowly nodded her head, her expression just as, if not more, stoic that before.
"Rosaline, I want you to be a part of the process that will make me immortal. You have been vital to me throughout my quest, and although I could not have foreseen this being the way that in ends, it is altogether fitting."
There was another long, dense pause. Rosaline surveyed Tom intensely, saying nothing. "Well, have you nothing to say?" he said, his voice raising slightly, his hands beginning to shake.
"Perfection," she began slowly, as if tasting the word. "You're right. We were never perfection. You will never achieve perfection. You may achieve what you think is perfection, but you will never truly have it. There will always be something lurking in the darkness.
Since we began our relationship, I've given myself fully to you. This began that one night in the corridor when you followed me out of the common room. Ever since then, I've been nothing but loyal to you. Anyone who came between us was a tool used by one or both of us. Covington, Katrina, Brice Avery.
Brice is perhaps the greatest example of this. When he kissed me in the classroom during the Winter Ball, he told me he was in love with me. People like us aren't capable of love, Tom. You know this as well as I do. I believe that this is what we had the most in common. And Brice factored in again when I used him to make you jealous and you used me to test his loyalty. What a perfectly laid plan that was. It worked out well for you, didn't it?"
Tom's face slowly drained of color as she spoke.
"Brice is the opposite of you and me. He operated solely on his love for me. He could never have known how futile it was, it wasn't in his nature.
And my pregnancy. I must tell you, I did not ever believe that it was doomed. I had certain misgivings, but I grew attached to the child growing inside of me. I dreamed that he or she would one day grow to be a perfect hybrid of you and me and would assist you in your reign. I also grew attached to the thought of being a mother. Twice Albus Dumbledore tried to sway me away from you. Once was just after I graduated, I'm sure you found out about that at some point. The other time, as you know, was a few months ago. He told me to leave with him, that my child could not be safe if I stayed with you. Twice I defied him, Tom. At this point, I have no motivation to question my past decisions, because I truly believe that none of that matters anymore.
But you see, in killing your child, which you did do, whether or not that was your initial intention, you destroyed any kind of legacy you would have had. I know that you think you will be immortal, Tom. Since I already know what my fate is, I will tell you what I know is to happen. Someone like Brice will come along someday, in ten, fifty, even a hundred years. I said that Brice operated entirely on love. The key element he lacked was courage. Someone will come along, Tom, someone who is fueled only by love and courage will prove that nothing is immortal. Therein lies your undoing. You will see one day that even the most meticulously laid plans will inevitable have flaws, there is no such thing as perfection. And you will fall."
Unable to contain himself any longer, Tom raised his wand to Rosaline's chest and uttered the words "Avada Kedavra!" filling the room with green light.
Rosaline's still body slumped to the floor. As Tom worked the Horcrux charm over her, beside himself with rage and, deeper inside of him, what he would come to know as fear, Rosaline's eyes remained open with the same look of defiance that they had held while she was still alive.
Tom would store what she'd said in the back of his mind for many years. He eventually convinced himself that it was a lie, that it could never be possible, but with him it stayed regardless. And on the day of that final battle at Hogwarts, at the moment that his own spell had rebounded against him at the close of his duel with the boy who was pure of heart, the only thought in Voldemort's head was Rosaline in the last moments of her life. It was then that he realized that those moments were the only times in his life where there had been perfection.
AN: Thanks so much to everyone for the amazing reviews! I'm thrilled that as many people liked my story as much as they did. I'm thinking of writing another, but I'm not sure if I want to commit to that yet. Stay tuned