Strange and Wondrous

Part 2: A Meeting of Destinies 2

Albania, 1955

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Tom had chosen rooms in the turret of an older section of the sprawling Karkaroff manor. The turret itself housed his main room, a library and living area filled with book shelves lining the tall walls. Interspersed between the shelves were portraits of the Marvolo family he'd collected over the years and glass enclosures housing his snakes. He had several special snakes, rare species all of them. The most special was an Indian python known in legend as Shiva's Servant. She was still a young snake and already five feet long. Tom didn't know how big she would get. He had been assured by the Menagerie Keeper in Calcutta from whom he bought her that the magical snake would grow large indeed. He had named her Nagini, and she was his favorite.

Being a Parselmouth, Tom talked with his snakes, making sure they were happy in their enclosures and pleased with their food. In turn, they freely gave him the venom or scales he needed for rituals and potions. The effect of having so many snakes surrounding the living space could be daunting to visitors. Or so Tom imagined; he'd never actually had visitors. This was his sanctuary, protected by wards even Modrig couldn't breach. But he welcomed Minerva into it that late afternoon.

"Ah, snakes," said Minerva, "why am I not surprised?" She walked through the door and up to the nearest enclosure as Tom hung her cloak on the peg next to the heavy door. Inside was a tiny Coral Spitting Asp. It hissed excitedly even though Tom had told all the snakes that he was expecting company who would not understand them. "Oh, this one is lovely, Tom." She looked into the next enclosure. Her eyes widened, and she turned to him. "An Irish adder? I thought they were extinct."

"A few of the species were rescued during the scouring of Ireland. They've been quietly cultivated on the Continent ever since, but their numbers are still small."

She looked all around the room, and then focused in on the books on the shelf before her. "You've so many books. DeHavilland's Grimoire... Powerful Uses of Potent Poisons... Potencies of the Unicorn... I'm glad I'm not here on official Ministry business." She said this jokingly, but she stopped reading the titles before her. Ignorance was bliss, and she wanted to feel blissful for a change.

"I was always an eclectic reader, Minerva," he said. "You should remember that." He'd concealed any of the seriously prohibited books in his library the night before. "In Albania, it's sometimes good to know what an enemy might have in store for you."

Minerva nodded her head. That did make sense - Albania could definitely be a dangerous place.

"Would you care to sit down?" Tom asked, indicating the sofa before the hearth. "We could have sip of my Christmas present."

"That would be lovely," said Minerva. She walked to the sofa and settled down upon it. He came to sit beside her, conjuring two glasses as he walked. While he poured the cognac, he shifted a bit closer towards her that their bodies touched. A shiver shot through Minerva, giving her goose bumps even as the warmth of the fire enveloped her. She felt wetness between her legs, and tension soiling inside her body. She wondered if she should kiss him now or wait. Again she recognized the ghost of warning flitting through her brain. Did she really know this man anymore? Even after the catching up of the afternoon, so many years had passed, and though they'd been close at one time...

He gazed into her eyes as he handed her the glass of cognac, and his fingers grazed hers. The jolt of electricity between them when they touched, the knowing she felt when she looked into his eyes left her without doubt. This was right. This was destined. And she was tired of playing by the rules. She kissed him, melting into his soft lips, tasting the hint of the heady cognac he'd just drunk.

"Minerva," Tom murmured. He closed his eyes, breathing in her scent of heather and fresh air and arousal.

"Tom, is this too fast? I mean, am I..."

"I've waited years for you, my darling. But if it's too fast for you..."

Setting the glass down, she touched her wand and whispered "Mutatio." Her green velvet gown shimmered and changed into a black negligee. She slid over to straddle his lap and claimed his mouth with hers. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, feeling the heat where his hardness met her softness.

When the kiss broke, she looked at him with half-lidded eyes, and said, "Mmmm, I think we're moving at just the right pace."

They stayed on the couch for a time, exploring each other with hands and mouths, whispering words of passion and thrilling to the tension mounting in their hearts and bodies. Finally, Minerva commanded, "Bedroom. Now."

They managed to part long enough to stand up, but Tom brought her immediately back into the circle of his arms. "Wingardium Leviosa," he said, and she felt his wand hand swish and flick behind her back. They rose into the air, and Tom guided them towards a large portrait of a handsome Marvolo named Julius. Julius winked at them and said, "Well done, old boy."

"Power and glory," Tom said quickly, and the painting moved aside to reveal his bedchamber.

Wand out, Minerva quickly muttered a Contraception charm as she found her footing again. As one they moved towards the bed. Minerva shifted them both down onto the silken bedcovers, lying down on her back and pulling him to her. Tom slipped his hands under her gown to caress her bare skin, and she removed the obstacle of fabric by shimmying out of it. She could have used her wand to undress him, but she rather liked the feel of his clothing against her naked skin. Tossing her wand aside, she closed her eyes and exulted in the touch of his hands. She wrapped her legs around him, holding him close as he planted kisses down her neck and then encircled her nipples one at a time with his tongue.

Tom could barely process the barrage of sensations he was experiencing. He'd had many lovers, mostly during Dark Revels or in brothels, but he'd never before known this intensity of passion. Hearing her whimpers and gasps made him tremble. He was proficient in numerous sex charms and hexes, but he couldn't remember even one. Didn't really need them at this moment. She possessed a wandless magic that made him agonizingly hard with desire and anticipation. He shrugged off his robes without moving his mouth from her breast and threw his wand onto the night stand where hers had landed.

Skin to skin now, with Minerva's hands entwining through his hair, he kissed and licked his way down her body. He was doing things with his tongue that Minerva had forgotten were possible. She shuddered and came, and Tom moved back to her lips. Tom rolled her over onto her side, still locked in the kiss. When his mouth lifted from hers, she opened her eyes and looked directly into his. They were dark, so dark, so full of need.

"I want you so, Minerva," he said.

"Then take me," she replied, her hand finding him. She slowly guided him inside her. Tom let out a sigh of relief and pleasure as he sank into her. He paused a moment, eyes closed, settling into her, and then he rolled over on his back, bringing her with him. He began rocking back and forth, moving inside her, glorying in the sensation. For the first time in his life, he didn't care about power or destiny or vengeance. He only cared about the woman in his arms.

Minerva loved being on top during sex, loved the feeling of control it gave her. For Tom to choose this position for her made her even more excited. He knew her so well without even trying. None of her other lovers had made her feel this known, this special. His hands were roaming over her body, tormenting every sensitive place. She could feel the tingle of her orgasm begin to build. She began grinding into him, setting her own pace to release the incredible tightness welling up inside her. She rocked forward again, bending down to kiss him, and as she did, she took his wrists and pinned them to the pillow beside his head. She smiled at him, a devilish, hedonistic smile, and the waves of the orgasm overtook her.

Tom stayed still under Minerva, his wrists held tightly by her shaking hands. She had collapsed on top of him, breathless and trembling. That he could make her feel this way astonished him and made him throb deep within in her. Her hands released him, and he wrapped his arms around her, rocking them back over to lie face to face. He stroked her cheek and ran his fingers through her hair, damp now with perspiration.

"You're a goddess, Minerva. I worship you. I always have." He kissed her softly. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Minerva whispered without thinking, knowing in her heart that it was true. His eyes grew wider, softer, and he brought her hand up to his lips, kissing the palm. Greedily Minerva moved her hand out of the way and sought his lips with her own. She nudged him over, sliding her body under his.

He increased the intensity of his lovemaking. Propping himself up on his elbows, he cradled her head in his hands, bringing the entire lengths of their bodies as closely together as possible. Her eyes were closed, and she was biting her lip as her head thrashed from one side to the other. He was so close, but he didn't want this to end.

Minerva writhed underneath him, her nails scratching down his back as the pressure once again built up to a frenzied pace. Had she ever come this often, so closely together without magic? She didn't think so. His voice alone could make her tingle, much less the perfect way his body brushed her most sensitive skin with each movement.

"Come for me, Minerva, come for me," he whispered in her ear before nipping at her neck. She was taken over the edge almost immediately. To her astonishment, the orgasm didn't fade, but kept echoing through her.

"Harder... There... Keep, keep...Yes!" she screamed as another wave smashed into her. Tom came a split second after her, and they both collapsed together in a panting, quivering heap.

"You're mine," she purred contentedly in his ear. "All mine, forever."

"I am yours, Minerva," he replied, brushing her hair from her face. "You'll never be rid of me." He smiled at her, knowing he sounded like a fool, and not caring.

She snuggled in closer to him. "Tom, I've a question to ask you. It's rather serious, I fear, and you must be honest with me."

"What?" He tried to sound calm but his insides turned to ice water. What could she want to know?

"Were you using magic just then?"

"No," he said, worriedly.

She laughed. "Gods, then can you imagine what it'll be like when do use our wands? Sweet Circe, Tom, this was... For once I'm speechless. Was it what you'd imagined?"

Tom kissed her. "I'm an imaginative person, Minerva, but I can honestly say that making love to you was more wonderful than anything I'd dreamed of."

"Hmm, honesty from a Slytherin. Will wonders never cease?" They both laughed, secrets and suspicions forgotten and destinies cast aside. They talked together for some time about everything and nothing at all till finally they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the happiness of each other's presence.

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In the middle of the night, Tom awoke with a start. His body was intensely itchy all over, like there were insects crawling under his skin. "Gods," he whispered, "forgot the ritual." Every night he Invited Darkness into him with rituals from a Parselmouth Grimoire he'd found during his travels in India. It was unique, and he'd obtained it through less than honorable means. With the evening's events, his normal routine had totally slipped his mind, and he found he could never go long anymore without performing the rituals. He carefully moved Minerva's arm from his chest. For a moment he ignored the crawling under his skin to gaze at her sleeping form enshrined in moonlight from the high window.

'Merlin's teeth, but she's beautiful,' thought Tom. 'Did this night really happen?' The passion between them had been unexpected and furious and were it not for the persistence of his need, he would have stayed there forever just admiring her. However he needed the Darkness, so he cautiously slipped out of bed and grabbed his wand and a robe. Slipping on the robe as he padded to the portrait opening, his heart began pounding with a different kind of anticipation.

He levitated from the bedroom down to the main room. The floor under his bare feet was cold, but he didn't notice as he walked to a bookcase. With a flick of his wand, the bookcase turned silently around until his Dark Altar moved into place. It was a grisly thing, and Tom had worked very hard to make it perfect. The ebony wood of the altar shone with polish, its carvings of bones and images of agony standing out it stark relief. The skull of his first sacrificial victim, illegal potion ingredients, an urn filled with the bones of a child, vials of blood and venom, and other gruesome paraphernalia of the Dark Arts were displayed with care under hanging rows of jewel handled knives.

He reached for the chained Grimoire he kept under glass in the middle of the altar, but then decided against anything elaborate. He didn't want Minerva to wake up and find him here. He was fairly certain that she was not the simple bureaucrat she claimed to be. His orders were to kill her no matter what, but he had never been one for taking orders. She would not die at his hand, nor at anyone else's. But if she caught him, that would make things difficult. No, he would do a quick Ritual of the Knife. That would serve.

Picking a dagger at random, he began murmuring the chant for the ritual. He pricked his thumb and let the blood drip onto the skull. When he finished the incantation, he felt the air turn electric. He was barely aware of his snakes hissing in the background as the building field of energy woke them. His hair was standing on end, goose flesh prickling over his body, as red fumes began to rise from the skull like unholy steam. The fumes spiraled up and entered into his body through the puncture wound. The Darkness took him, burrowing into every cell of his body.

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"Lord Voldemort....," came a hiss from behind him. "My master..."

Tom had fallen to his knees in the rapture that overtook him during Dark ritual. "What, Nagini," he hissed back to his snake.

"Who is the woman, Master? She is not One Who Walks In Darkness. Why is she here? Are you going to kill her? Am I going to feed?" The snake had risen up, her body climbing the glass of her enclosure.

"Be quiet, Nagini," he hissed fiercely. "It's none of your business."

The snake wavered for a moment, and then with a drawn out "ssssssss" coiled herself into a corner.

Tom heard a rustling from the bedroom above. He shakily stood up and waved his wand to return the Altar to its hiding place. The Dark magic was coursing through him, but he felt emptier than usual. The spells from the Grimoire had always made him feel complete and more powerful. He realized with a bit of a shock that what he had shared with Minerva had been more intense than his Dark rituals. He was so used to being alone and hell bent on his destiny. To have another person make him feel more complete than his magic was startling. Confused, he floated back up to the bedroom, where his goddess, his Minerva, waited for him.

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Minerva awoke feeling Tom's absence. His side of the bed was empty, but not cold. She looked around Tom's bedchamber for the first time. It was rather spare compared to his main room. Nothing on the walls, no windows except for one high, narrow one. There was a wardrobe and a comfortable looking armchair beside the fireplace. She smiled when she saw another small bookshelf tucked into the wall by the chair. Beside the four poster bed was the night table with her wand and a small picture frame. She looked closely at the photograph and realized it was Muggle picture. A woman with dark, bobbed hair stared from the frame unmoving. She wore a wedding veil, and it was apparent that someone else in the picture had been cut out. 'This must be his mother,' she thought.

Strange hissing sounds came from the room below. Minerva set the picture frame down. It sounded almost as if the hissing were a conversation. The doubt that had been reduced to a niggling in her brain flared again. Tom in school had always been upstanding on the outside, but she had perceived cracks in his demeanor, little flashes of something deeper and darker. Truth be told, it was something that fascinated her though she would never admit it. The Karkaroffs had a reputation, and he did work for them. And after all, she was here on a serious mission in the battle against the Dark...

Then she was struck by a startling realization. If Tom was dabbling in the Dark Arts, she didn't really care. Hadn't she done her fair share of curses, including the Imperius Curse and several killing hexes which, if not Unforgivable, were not exactly aboveboard either? Even if what she'd done had been in self defense and sanctioned through the Ministry, it didn't matter. Using the Dark Arts didn't necessarily make you evil. It wasn't like he was the rising Dark power the Seer foretold.

She'd found him again, and he made her happier than she could remember being. She would worry with his involvement with the Dark Arts if and when the time came. Minerva had no idea what the morning would bring and for once in her adult life, she didn't care

Her thoughts were interrupted by Tom walking back into the bedroom. He looked flushed, as if he'd been exposed to a great source of heat.

"What was that hissing, Tom?" she asked.

Tom's eyes widened for an instant before his face smoothed into a casual expression. "Oh, the snakes sometimes become excited when I wake in the night. I think they always hope for an extra meal. Sorry they woke you." He sat down beside her and caressed her face gently. "Minerva, you look like a statue carved from stone with the moonlight shining on you. A statue of a goddess. My goddess." He whispered the last, enthralled by her eyes, her lips, her soft skin.

She kissed his hand. "I'm so fortunate I found you here in the least likely of places."

He kissed her then, softly bringing his lips to hers, barely touching her as he felt the ardor between them begin to escalate. She pushed his robe off of his shoulders, and he shrugged it off the rest of the way as their kiss deepened.

Minerva lay back down on her side, and Tom scooped his right arm underneath her, pulling her to him, twining his fingers through her hair. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, wanting him closer to her. His erection was almost painful as it pressed into her soft belly, and a thought flickered through his mind. 'I'm tainted by the Dark ritual, I shouldn't touch her, I shouldn't dirty her with it.' But then he slid his hand over the curve of her body to her hip, and she moaned softly with desire and need. All rational thought left him, and he was lost in her, as lost as he had ever been in the most ecstatic Dark Rite.

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The morning sunlight shone down upon the two lovers tangled in a heap atop the covers of the bed, panting and laughing. Sex during levitation was intensely pleasurable, but it also demanded concentration. Unfortunately, neither Tom nor Minerva had been able to focus enough to stay in midair upon climax, and they'd fallen rather hard to the bed below.

"Ow, I think I pulled a muscle," Minerva gasped, laughing. She untangled her legs from his.

Tom rolled over flat on his back, arms splayed out. "I'll kiss it better once I can move again. Next time we try that, we don't go so far up. But it was fantastic, bruises and all."

Minerva leaned up on one elbow, turning to him. She loved the way he smiled and laughed, how smooth his skin was over the hard muscles. His arm scooped her closer to him, and she put her head on his shoulder.

"When do you have to leave, darling?" Tom asked.

'Probably an hour ago,' thought Minerva. Thank goodness she'd sent in the bloody report already. The Albanian Ministry would have to do without her today. "Um, probably around three or so. I don't think they need me for the entire summit. I'll go for my part and my part only." She had made her decision- she was quitting the Ministry effective almost immediately. She might as well skip one last hideously boring meeting. She would complete her mission tonight, and that would be it. "I'm not sure when I'll be done though. It might not be till late this evening." She hated lying to him.

"That's all right," he said, lazily stroking her arm, "I have a previous commitment tonight, as well. Owl me as soon as you get done. I'll wait up for you."

"Well, the thing is, I might have to Apparate back to London to give my report. Sometimes my orders are changed at the last minute. Can we plan on meeting in the morning?"

"That's fine. But if you change your mind, let me know. I won't be able to stand being away from you for long."

"Do you like your job? I mean, really like it?" she said suddenly.

"No, not really. As a matter of fact, I loathe it. Why do you ask?"

She shifted back a bit so as to better see his face. "I despise mine. I mean, truly despise it. Meeting you again, realizing how I feel about you... It's almost as if I've woken up from years of sleep. I feel like I have a chance at new start. Tom, this might sound daft, but let's run away together. I'm quitting the Ministry - I'd decided that even before I saw you at the Inn. If I go back to England, I'll have to face my father and everyone else I've let down. Unless, I mean, unless I'm moving too fast."

Tom kissed her, his heart leaping with joy. "I think we're moving at just the right pace. How about Alexandria? I've always fancied going there. Or maybe Istanbul" Modrig would not release him from his service easily, and if he left without his consent, he and Minerva both would be in danger. And what of his destiny, his promises over the years to the memory of his dead mother... He couldn't lie to Minerva anymore. She would have to know what she was getting into with him.

"Or Rome," said Minerva, "I can speak Italian. Or maybe Algiers."

Tom almost told her everything then. But her excitement about their new life together was infectious. They began making plans of all the things they'd see and do together, and Tom was convinced that everything would be perfect. It was time he made his own way instead of relying on the tutelage of others. He would figure out a way to escape Modrig, tell Minerva the truth, and be with her forever. He was Lord Voldemort, and he could do anything.

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"Finite Incantatem," Minerva said with a sigh, pointing her wand at the rumpled black negligee. It transformed back into the navy blue work robe she'd first transfigured Christmas morning. She left it laid out on the bed, being much more comfortable in a borrowed dressing gown of Tom's.

"My, how bureaucratic, dear," said Tom, arching his eyebrow at the functional garment. Minerva responded by throwing a pillow at him. He waved it away with his wand. "Not that I want you to go, Minerva, but it's almost three."

Minerva got out of bed and stretched. They hadn't left the bed much that whole day, and Minerva didn't want to leave it at all. Not yet, anyway. She walked to stand in the shaft of sunlight from the bedchamber window.

"Do you have an owl? Or could you get one for me?"

Tom walked over to her, stunned for the umpteenth time since he'd met her again by just how beautiful she was. "I could call for one. Why?"

"I'm thinking of telling the Ministry to sod off at this very moment instead of finishing out my duties. They've had enough of my time and energy. Besides," she said reaching for his wandless hand, "I don't want to leave." She brought his hand to rest on her breast.

"As much as I would like you to stay," Tom said, slowly caressing her nipples one at a time, "would you really feel right doing that?"

She moved his hands to step in closer to him, resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her tightly. "No, and I will go. I just like the idea of being defiant sometimes."

He kissed the top of her head and waved his wand towards Minerva's work robe. The robe flew to his hand. "Here you are, my sweet. I think you'll be happier fulfilling your responsibilities, dreadful though they are. You are a Gryffindor, after all, even if you've been extremely naughty lately."

"Mmmm, and you would know about being naughty, wouldn't you, you Slytherin," she said, letting the dressing gown pool to the floor. She slipped her robe over her head. "It's hard to concentrate on dressing when you're standing there naked, by the way."

"What about underwear?" asked Tom in a low voice, as he started buttoning up the front of the dress.

"I'll conjure some later," said Minerva, the pressure from his fingers making her skin prickle hot and cold with desire. She smoothed her hands down his chest and further down. She stroked up and down the length of his hardness, smiling.

Tom loved watching the lust wash over her. Her hands on his flesh could enslave him. He leaned over to whisper kiss her earlobe. "You should go, Minerva, or you'll be late."

"And you should fling me up against the wall and fuck me senseless," she growled. In a flash of silver light, she was thrown back to the stone wall, held in place by his spell. In another instant, his arms were around her like bands of steel, and the magic released her. She moaned and wrapped her legs tightly around him and then he was inside her, thrusting hard and fast, just how she wanted.

"Yes, Tom, more, oh gods, so good," she shouted. The orgasm building up was going to be huge. She closed her eyes and focused on the feel of him inside her, the way he fit to her, the pleasing scent of his sweat, and his eyes, his dark eyes that made her weak whenever she looked into them.

"I love being inside you," he said, kissing her neck. He sensed how she was already trembling in his arms and knew that the pleasure of release for both of them would be fierce. "You're so beautiful, Minerva. You're so mine."

She pulled his head to hers, kissing him so they were locked together as tightly as could be. The orgasm slammed into her, overwhelming her senses. She screamed into his kiss, and then her head fell back, her body relaxing in his arms as he cried out and came. Slowly their bodies slipped apart, both of them panting and trembling. Minerva's feet found the floor, as she leaned back against the wall, sheltered in Tom's arms.

"I love you, Tom," she said when she could find her voice again. "I never want to be apart from you again."

"My Minerva," he said, stroking her hair, "I waited so long for you."

"I have to go."

He kissed her forehead. "Go, my sweet. Owl me as soon as you get back. I might be late myself, but remember that tomorrow we start over. We'll be together from now on. Accio cloak." Minerva's cloak flapped in through the open portrait hole and into his hands.

He kissed her one more time, long and lingering as he wrapped the cloak around her. Minerva Summoned her wand, and Tom moved away from her ever so slightly so she'd have room to Disapparate. When she disappeared, he reached for the space where she'd been standing. He missed her already.

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When Minerva opened her eyes again, she was in her dank room at the Inn. Her prior enchantments had ended and the room looked like it usually did - bleak and oppressive. She felt the loss of Tom immediately and would have Apparated back to him if she hadn't seen the two Ministry owls waiting impatiently for her.

Sighing, she went to them and took their messages. Neither flew off, which meant an answer was required to each. She scanned through the first which berated her for not attending the summit. Then she read the second, a briefing on tonight's events complete with speculated locations for the Dark Rite.

She sat down at the rickety desk and began to write her resignation letter, rejoicing with every word she set down to parchment.