Strange and Wondrous

Part 2: A Meeting of Destinies 3

Albania, 1955

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Focus. Control. Concentration. These were the required elements for an Animagus transformation. Minerva McGonagall was sitting on the bed of her room in the Laughing Dragon Inn, breathing deeply, trying to reach a still, quiet place within herself. She found herself anything but still and quiet. Her thoughts kept flickering to Tom's face, Tom's body, Tom's hands on her skin. This time tomorrow they would be gone, together, fleeing lives that had become frustrating and stagnant. She smiled and breathed in. The thought of her new found love and happiness brought the calm she needed. With the light fading fast, dappling the room with shadows, Minerva changed into her cat form.

She loved being an Animagus, loved her animal incarnation. When she was a cat, she was truly a feline, with the thoughts and urges of the animal. She was still herself, her conscious thoughts floating above the cat brain, mingling with the more primitive urges to scratch claws on tree trunks or attack the rustling whispers of creatures in the bushes. Through training as an Unspeakable agent, she'd been taught to control her higher thoughts, to rule the cat. Control had always been such a mainstay of Minerva's life. Control, rigidity, following the rules... She was happy to be done with all of that.

As Minerva settled into her second skin, she felt that something was not quite right within her. Something tangible, but not, she intuited, dangerous. Animagi were known for detecting minuscule bodily changes that indicated illness during transformations, since they were essentially rearranging themselves molecule by molecule. Minerva wasn't sure what the problem was, but she didn't feel it was anything to concern her at this moment. She'd puzzle it out when she changed back after this last mission as a miserable employee of the Ministry of Magic. Then she would be gone, gone with the man she'd loved for years without realizing.

Slipping out of the open window, Minerva crept through the shadows surrounding the Inn and made her way into the dark forest, ears alert for the sound of voices.

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There were preparations Tom needed to make before the sun went down, but he found that all he could do was grin like a madman and think of Minerva. He was readying for their departure at least, reducing his books into minuscule sizes, the better to be placed in a single trunk to levitate away. His snakes he would reduce last; he didn't want them to be distressed before it was necessary. He found himself humming as he did his tasks, stopping every few moments to remember Minerva's voice first whispering she loved him, or her body wrapped around his in the height of passion. Love, true tangible love, was such a foreign emotion for him; it was a bit unsettling the lengths to which he would now go to protect her, to cherish her forever. He was ready to take her away, to find a happily ever after he'd never known could exist.

'But it can't be this easy, can it? There's so much she doesn't know. I've waited for her so long, if I were to lose her now...' He pushed the troubling thoughts from his head. Everything would be fine, and by this time tomorrow, they would be in Alexandria or Algiers or somewhere else exotic and new.

The sun was setting, and he'd done nothing for the evening's ritual. He had to find blood to "prove" he'd killed Minerva as per Modrig's order's. He wished he could simply make a quick Apparation to a Muggle dockside to snuff out the life of a random thug. One who resembled his father, hopefully - he never got tired of reliving that kill. But he needed magical blood; Modrig would immediately know the difference. He also needed to undergo his own ritual to prepare and protect himself, to invite more of the Darkness inside himself to make the ritual that much more powerful for him. He placed the last of the palm sized books into the trunk in front of him. He needed to hurry.

He went to his altar and retrieved a glass urn from within a hidden drawer. Dark red liquid sloshed inside of it as he set it before him. This was the blood of a Tibetan wizard he had killed in a mostly fair duel some years ago. It was potent blood, for the wizard had been old and powerful. But not powerful enough, Tom mused with a smile. He had preserved the blood for his more arcane and demanding rituals, meting it out drop by drop. He would use all of it tonight to protect Minerva.

Setting the blood to the side of the altar, he opened the Parselmouth Grimoire to a ritual he hadn't attempted before. It called the snake spirits above and below to stand between you and danger, in exchange for blood and devotion. Tom had both to spare, but even as he slashed his palm with a dagger to begin his offering, his thoughts were of Minerva.

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Minerva slunk through the underbrush of the forest, carefully placing her paws in the quietest places. It was full dark, and she heard the unmistakable buzz of human voices in the distance. She headed for the spot, knowing in her Minerva mind that the location matched with the Ministry information she'd been given.

Soon she began to perceive a change in the light. A bright blue glow was emanating from a clearing a few yards away. She headed towards the light, listening to the voices as they came more into focus. Silently leaping into a tree standing before a circular clearing, Minerva settled down and watched and waited.

People were drifting into the clearing. People whose faces were obscured by low, black hoods. Minerva crouched down close to the bark of the tree, shielding her higher thoughts from any Legilimens who would be able to detect them. Sour smells reached her cat nose, smells of poisons and Dark power. She memorized the sights before her, of the robed figures forming a circle, of blue light eerily pouring into the darkness of the forest.

Finally one large shape entered the middle of the circle, cutting through swirling blue mist. "Bow down before your Lord Modrig," he said in deep, accented English. The figures standing in the circle knelt down. "You come to this place this glorious night to partake of my power, to complete the Dark Rites we have begun in our fellowship. Voldemort, the blood gift."

A tall figure stepped before Modrig, kneeled, and handed him a glass urn glowing red. "My master, the blood of the Ministry spy, as you commanded." The man bowed low before Modrig.

In the tree, Minerva froze, her four sets of claws digging into the rough bark of the tree. That was Tom's voice. 'But perhaps it wasn't,' she thought quickly. She prayed to any god that would listen that it wasn't.

Modrig took the urn and lifted the lid, inhaling the fragrance of the blood. "Ho, quite powerful. A fitting gift for our ritual. If only it was truly the witch's blood, you lying traitor." He smiled maliciously and took out his wand, setting the urn on a dais he conjured. The man before him remained kneeling, absolutely still. "Well, well, Voldemort, isn't this an interesting situation we find ourselves in. You have disobeyed a direct order and compromised our evening of triumph. Not wise, boy, not wise."

"I don't know what you mean, my lord," said the man calmly.

Modrig savagely backhanded the man. He wavered under the force of the blow, but came back to his upright position.

"The witch was seen in her room at the Inn this afternoon, you idiot," Modrig snarled. "She sent an Owl, no doubt carrying damning evidence of your activities. You have betrayed your future for pleasure with the enemy. You will be severely punished, but not enough to kill you. Not yet. We'll capture your witch and stage a Dark Revel with her as our honored guest. You will watch every moment of her degradation and torture, and then you will watch her die. Then you will be our honored guest, and you will beg us for death. I have waited for this moment for years, Riddle. Crucio!"

Minerva's eyes were wide and her breath shallow. She felt as if she'd been sharply kicked in the ribs. It was Tom. Even if Modrig hadn't named him, she could see his face now where the hood had fallen away. He was a Dark wizard, and he'd been ordered to kill her. And yet, he hadn't. As she watched him writhe on the ground, suffering from the Cruciatus curse, she caught herself slipping back into human form just in time to focus back into animal shape again. She tried to breathe deeply, to center herself, but found that she could not.

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Tom knelt before Modrig, knowing that his plan had failed but not giving up just yet. His mind was racing with ideas, ways to escape, ways to save Minerva from a fate much worse than death. He could try cursing Modrig now while the bloated toad blathered on, but he'd be pitifully outnumbered by the rest of the assemblage. Cruciatus torture was bad, but he could bear it. He'd find a way to protect her. Tom saw Modrig's wand rise up, ready to cast. He took a deep breath and retreated within himself.

The blast hit him, strafing his nervous system with flares of fiery, spiking pain, but he'd already retreated within his memory, a form of magic and concentration he'd taught himself over the years. The pain was there - there was no way to ever escape it - but he could hide part of himself, as it were, in a tiny corner of his consciousness to deflect the worst of it. It was here, huddled within himself, hearing his own screams while trying to focus on Minerva's face, the feel of her skin, the overpowering emotions he assigned to her and her alone, that a change began.

It started as a vibration of current running up and down his spine, pushing against the pain slicing through his body. The vibration grew stronger, and from behind his closed eyelids, he saw red, snakelike forms moving against the black. He opened his eyes, and he still saw them. The red tendrils writhed through the air and around his body, and a rush of power swept into him. He stood, still under the effects of Cruciatus, but nearly oblivious to the pain.

Modrig cast the Cruciatus again, his eyes wide. Tom laughed. He saw through a veil of red now, and power bubbled up inside of him, rolling through his brain. He raised his wand to parry the curse, and with a flick of the wrist the Cruciatus rebound upon Modrig. Now the student loomed over the cringing form of the master.

The others within the circle were whispering amongst themselves, unsure as to what to do. They waited, transfixed by the palpable power throbbing throughout the clearing.

"Ah, Modrig, I have been waiting years for this," said Tom. "I could kill you slowly and greatly enjoy it, but truly, I have wasted too much of my precious time in your wretched company already. Avada Kedavra!" With a flash of green light, Modrig collapsed lifeless to the ground.

Tom was giddy, drunk on the Dark power which shone red from his eyes. The red tendrils had mostly burrowed into his flesh by now. A few small wisps lingered about him, swirling around his body. He wasn't sure what had caused this transformation, but it was glorious. He triumphantly turned to face the group in the clearing.

"Bow down to your Lord Voldemort," he commanded.

Half the group went down to their knees immediately. The other half Disapparated. Only one person remained standing. "How dare you?" screeched Svetlana Karkaroff. "You killed the most powerful Dark wizard left in Europe, you Half-blood bastard."

"No, I didn't, my dear Svetlana," said Tom. "The most powerful Dark wizard in Europe stands before you. If you know what's best for you, you'd bow down before me as well."

Svetlana spat on the ground. "I curse you, Tom Marvolo. I will take care of your Ministry whore myself." She Disapparated, and Tom reflected upon how nice it would be to torture her before he killed her. Minerva would be safe enough at her summit meeting. Even if she were back by now, the Minerva he remembered from Dueling Club would make short work of Svetlana.. Svetlana fancied herself a menace, but in reality she was pathetic. He would deal with her later.

He looked upon the figures bowed before him. "I will continue the ritual," he said. "You will be my followers. I will mark you as my own, even though I might not see you again after this night for some time. Never doubt, though, that your loyalty belongs to Lord Voldemort"

"Yes, Lord Voldemort," spoke a dozen voices. Tom retrieved the book of ritual from Modrig's cloak pocket and began. The Dark ecstasy remained, meshing with the love for Minerva that had kept him walking on air with no magic at all. She would be his Dark queen, and together they would rule the world. He began the ritual, his face glowing with joy. This last twenty-four hours had brought him everything he had ever desired.

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Minerva couldn't move for quite some time. She huddled in the crook of the tree, watching what was unfolding below her, but not quite comprehending what she saw. As Tom began the ritual, she knew she couldn't stay and watch anymore. She'd completed her mission - she'd seen the new Dark power rise. How could he be the man she'd always wanted and be this as well? Why hadn't he told her? Had this all been an act to deceive her? At this thought, her stomach clenched as if she'd been punched.

She stumbled out of the tree, barely able to concentrate enough to retain cat form. She had to get out of the country before any of Modrig's followers found her. Before Tom found her. Her room at the Inn was warded, so she should be safe within it. She would Apparate straight home to McGonagall Castle. Once she was far enough away from the clearing, she began running, mindless of the noise her four feet made.

Soon she was slipping back into her dark room at the Inn. She took a deep breath and upon exhaling she stood up into her human form. She had vaguely remembered to concentrate on the niggling sense of something being awry within her. After a confused moment, her face went white.

"No, it can't be," she whispered to the darkness. "It can't be, it mustn't."

She sat down hard on the bed. Holding her wand with a shaking hand, she waved it over her lower abdomen and whispered. Then she pointed to an empty wall. "Revelare," she commanded.

On the wall, glowing streaks of magic from her wand formed the word "yes". She stared at the word until it faded slowly away. Then she cast the Pregnancy Revelation spell again. The same glowing yes appeared on the wall. Minerva McGonagall was with child. She put her hands over her eyes and tried to cry, but she was in too much shock to do more than gasp for air. She was pregnant, she was going to have a baby - Tom's baby. A Dark wizard's child. What the hell was she going to do? It didn't matter that she'd resigned from the Ministry. Even if she ended the pregnancy, her superiors would know she'd consorted with the enemy. Her mind would be an open book, no matter how she tried to hide her thoughts. She moaned in despair and huddled on her side, curled up and rocking herself as she keened.

She dropped her hands from her face to clutch at the bedspread, and it was then she noticed a small, nondescript owl perched on the wardrobe. It wasn't a Ministry owl, of that she was certain. "Come," she said, her voice sounding foreign to her ears. The owl fluttered down to the bed and stuck out a leg. She took the roll of parchment, but the bird didn't fly off. She read the letter.

Minerva, I miss you already, and you've not been gone more than a few hours. I will be waiting to hear from you the moment you return. Please send back the owl, my love, and tell me when to expect you. I am ready to begin my life anew with you by my side.

Yours forever,

Tom

He must have sent the letter right after she'd left the room. She wanted to rip the letter into shreds. She wanted to hex Tom into oblivion. She wanted to fall into his arms and ask him, why, why, why, and be covered with his kisses till she didn't have to think anymore. Now the tears came. She kicked the mattress and pummeled the pillows for the unfairness of it all.

After several minutes of giving herself over to the rage and sorrow, Minerva slowly sat up. She could feel the rigid discipline that had maintained her throughout a career of spying settle back into place. Walking to the desk, she penned a quick response, tied it to the owl's leg, and sent it back to its master. She reduced her trunk to pocket size. Slipping it into her cloak's pocket, she cast a Camouflage Charm on her robes. Her lips pursed together in thin line, she Apparated to the place she'd arranged to meet her lover and enemy.

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Once the ritual had been completed, his new followers had drifted away into the darkness to await his next call. Tom was exhausted. The power that had rushed through him had slowly dissipated, leaving him feeling drained. He knew that while the Darkness was part of him, he still had to learn how to sustain and control it. . That would require more time and more ritual, but it would be done. If he were confronted by his enemies now, he'd be hard pressed to fight them off. Luckily, he'd always been good at bluffing. Besides, after the power he'd displayed tonight, he didn't think he'd have problems. He leaned against a tree, smiling with his eyes closed, remembering the rush of power. What a night this had been...

He heard the barely discernible rustle of wings enter the clearing and looked up. His owl was returning to him, message attached to its leg.

"Minerva," he breathed, beaming. He took the roll of parchment, and the owl remained perched on the low branch it had landed upon, waiting if it was needed further.

Tom - meet me by the gnarled, lichen covered oak tree in the forest behind the Inn. M

It was time to meet his beloved. He began rehearsing in his head what he would say to her, how he would explain logically and lovingly who he really was. He didn't give much thought to why she ha picked such a place to meet. He walked instead of Apparating to give himself a little more time to work his words out.

She must know who he was, who he could be. He worried she would resist the idea of a love affair with a Dark wizard, but he remembered the Imperio experiments of her seventh year. There was Darkness inside Minerva McGonagall, even if she didn't want there to be. He would nurture her Darkness, show her what powers she could access, what knowledge she could gain. That would be what would reel her in, he decided. He would win her over. There was no doubt in his mind.

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Minerva waited behind the tree, listening for the pop of an Apparation or the rustle of walking feet. She replayed the night's events over in her head, not wanting to believe how she'd seen Tom, how she'd heard the vicious edge to his voice which had always been so gentle towards her. Maybe this wasn't what it seemed. Maybe he was even working for some other European ministry as she was. Maybe he was just...

Minerva grimaced. 'Maybe he's always been immersed in the Dart Arts, even since school, and you were too foolish to realize it.' This wasn't mere dabbling for the sake of knowledge and curiosity; Tom was deeply absorbed in the Dark Arts. Hadn't she had suspicions during the day they'd spent together? She chided herself for not listening to her gut instincts, for allowing herself to swept away by passion. 'But it wasn't merely lust,' she thought to herself, as the sting of tears came to her eyes. 'It felt so right, like we were meant to meet at this time, this place. Oh gods, why is this happening?'

She heard footsteps. Wand out, she went into a defensive stance. Tom approached from the dark, his wand tip aglow. She saw his smiling face, lighting up upon sight of her, and she felt her heart break all over again.

"Minerva, dearest. I didn't see you standing there," he began.

"Expelliarmus!" Minerva shouted. Tom's wand flew out of his hand, and Minerva took it.

"Minerva, what..." Tom looked truly baffled. She could still see a sheen of red shining through his eyes.

"I saw it all, Voldemort," she sneered, her voice more derisive than she'd planned. "I know what you are. Where did I fit in your plan? Was I your special plaything? Were those all pretty lies you told me to keep me in bed and away from the woods?"

"Minerva, what are you talking about?" Tom felt a bubble of panic work its way through his elation. She'd called him Voldemort... How could she have known if she hadn't been there tonight? And why else would she be in a dueling stance, ready to battle him, if not for the fact that... "Modrig was right - you are a Ministry spy."

"I am an Unspeakable Agent. I failed in my duty this mission, stupid enough to be tricked by your lies."

"I didn't mean to... I didn't want... I wasn't the only one concealing the truth, Minerva," Tom said defensively. "Your little story was quite convincing. You've had practice since school. How could I believed you were a petty bureaucrat? Was fucking me part of your mission? Is that what Unspeakables are trained to do with Dark wizards these days?"

"Shut up!" Minerva screamed, feeling sick. She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. "Please, Tom, tell me you're an agent for some Ministry, any Ministry. Please tell me that what I saw tonight wasn't real. Because if it was..."

"What exactly did you see?" There had to be a way Tom could fix this. there had to be a way he could manipulate things back into his favor. There always was a way.

"Everything, Tom, every moment of the Dark ritual tonight. Every killing curse, every drop of blood, every swirl of Dark power you channeled into yourself."

Tom's mouth worked wordlessly for a moment. "How?" Then he remembered that day in the Three Broomsticks so many years ago. How could he have forgotten? "You're an Animagus. That's how."

Minerva nodded her head.

Tom slumped down to the ground onto his knees before her. "Minerva, you must believe I never, ever have wanted to hurt you. I was willing to do anything to protect you, even after I was ordered to kill you. I still will do anything. We were getting on so well, that I didn't know how to tell you the truth, didn't know how you'd take it."

"When were you planning to tell me? Tomorrow, next week, years from now?" The tears were shining in her eyes now. She tried to brush them away, but more took their place.

"Tonight. I knew I couldn't lie to you any longer. I hoped you would... I hoped you would join me. The Dark Arts are fascinating, Minerva. I have learned so much that had been thought lost to the ages, and I-"

"Stop, Tom, please. I will never be follower of the Darkness. And after what I saw tonight... How could you, Tom? How long have you been Inviting the Darkness?"

"Just over a year now," said Tom quietly.

"Then it's almost too late," muttered Minerva. "Which Grimoire - the Black or the Caliginosus?"

"Neither," he said, "It has no name. It's a Parselmouth Grimoire I found long ago in India."

"A Parselmouth Grimoire? But how can you underst... Sweet Circe, you're a Parselmouth, too?" Minerva slumped against the tree. "I suppose it was you who opened the Chamber of Secrets, as well," she said hotly. "No, don't answer. I don't want to know." She held out her hands before her, warding off anymore revelations.

They were silent for several moments, neither looking at the other.

"Was all this, with me, a lie?" Minerva finally asked.

"No, it was never a lie. I love you. I've loved you since the moment I saw you. The short time I've been with you has made me happier than I'd ever known possible. Please believe me." He carefully reached for her wand free hand, taking it in his.

Minerva began crying and her knees buckled. She let him take her in his arms, let him wrap strong arms around her. He was kissing her hair and her forehead, making shushing noises. The chemistry between them reignited upon touch, and she felt the stirrings of the passion they'd shared. She had to tell him her news and get away from him before she lost control or fortitude to make the right decision.

"Tom," she said, gently pushing him away from her, "I have something else I must tell you. I'm not sure how, because I know we both used the right charms, but I noticed in my transformation tonight that I was... I verified it twice with a Revelare charm, but I'm... I'm pregnant. And I don't know what to do."

"You're... going to have a baby? My baby?"

Minerva nodded her head. "It would seem so," she managed to say.

"Oh," he said flatly. "Do you even want it? Now, I mean?"

She hadn't thought about that yet, but even as he asked, she knew she wanted to keep the baby. Hope flared within her for the first time since she'd recognized him at the ritual. "Yes, I do."

Tom smiled. "I never thought I'd be a father. Oh, Minerva, this is wonderful. I'll do whatever you want me to do, Minerva, name it, if that's what it takes for you to stay with me. We could be a family." At that moment, Tom might have promised even to give up the Dark Arts, but he knew he would never be able leave it for long. If only she'd see his way...

Minerva smiled too, a fleeting thought of escaping her troubles by going away with Tom. Maybe he would quit using the Dark Arts if she helped him. Maybe there was something in the Dark Mysteries for her after all. She could simply research it, learn more of the taboo subject. The temptation was tantalizing. She knew in her heart, however, what she must do.

"You can't give up the Dark Arts, Tom, and that's what I would require. It's too much a part of you now."

"But Minerva, I could try. You could help me." But Tom knew he was lying, even when he spoke the words with such sincerity. After tonight how could he possibly deny himself the power? Maybe, though, maybe if he believed hard enough, she would, too. "Give me the chance, at least. If we're not together, what will we do?"

Minerva started to speak, but her face crumpled. The sobs came fast, wracking her body. "I don't know. But it's Azkaban for me. They'll know, Tom, they'll know, and it won't matter that I've resigned or I've served them with a flawless record, they'll know."

"Wait, Minerva, shhh," Tom said, holding her close to him again, rocking her. "What are you talking about?"

"My superiors in the Unpseakables division. They'll know I've consorted with the enemy. Last month they sent one of my colleagues to Azkaban simply for letting the wife and children of a Dark wizard slip away. When they know I slept with you with consent, I'm done for. Oh gods, why is this happening?" She began pummeling him with her fists, hitting his chest and upper arms as hard as she could. "Why you have to turn out this way? Why did you have to come back into my life all so perfect and just how I needed you? My life is ruined, and it's all your fault!"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Tom had never said those words and meant them, but he did now. He closed his eyes and held her closely as her fists beat against him. Finally she went limp

"What am I going to do?" She sighed in his arms, allowing herself the sin of breathing him in and snuggling closer to his warmth.

"Don't you have strong enough Occlumency skills to keep them out of your thoughts?"

"Not strong enough. I could fool the Empaths, maybe, but not the strongest Legilimens. They know everything. And agents are stringently scanned upon debriefing."

"Then you must come away with me. You'll be safe."

"No, Tom, I can't. I fight the Dark. I don't want to succumb to it."

He dropped his arms from her and moved away. Anger was starting to swell inside of him, anger at her for not being sensible. If she just ran away with him, the problem would be solved. But he had to protect her, no matter what.

"I know a way. The Silentium charm."

"That won't work. I'm banned from using it, and they automatically check for traces of secrecy charms like that."

"I know how to hide the traces of Silentium. I've done it before and never been found out."

"Do you... Do you have to use Dark magic?" Minerva quailed, but if it would work, if it would protect herself and the baby... and if it would protect Tom, she'd do it.

Tom nodded.

She knew it was wrong, and she knew that she would one day have to answer for this treason, but she didn't care. "Help me, Tom." She was weak. Even in her anger and betrayal, she couldn't help but love him. She reached for their wands which she'd dropped to the ground. Handing him his, she flashed on the thought that he could hex her now, if he wanted to. He could even cast Imperio upon her and force her to do his will. Just as she thought this, she also knew somehow that no harm would come to her. Not by his hand, not now.

"I'll hide it with a blood charm. I'll have to have a drop of yours. Is that all right?"

Minerva laughed. "Of course it's not all right. None of this is all right. But I'll give you whatever you need."

"Minerva, this is foolishness. Just come with me! I'll protect you. You must know that I would never, ever hurt you."

"I believe you, Tom. You wouldn't hurt me now. But your are Inviting Darkness inside yourself. You know it will slowly work changes in your psyche and in your body. You can't promise my safety forever. Not if you become someone else because of the changes you bring upon yourself."

He had never thought of his Invitations of Darkness in that way. In his quest to better himself, would he also lose himself? He decided not to dwell on it. "You know how Silentium works, right? We state what we want to keep secret, and after the charm is complete, we will not be physically able to communicate those secrets to anyone but each other."

"Yes. And if the Silentium is to be broken, we both must agree and cross wands to end it."

Tom held his wand up, and Minerva touched hers to it. They both spoke at the same time. "Silentium!"

"The only person I've ever loved is Minerva McGonagall. Minerva is the mother of my child. She is an Animagus and was an Unspeakable Agent. I will love her to the end of my days. I will do my best to protect her and our child against all dangers."

"I love Tom Marvolo Riddle. He is the father of my child. He is a Dark wizard called Voldemort. I will... I will protect him from discovery by the Ministry of Magic, and I will... I will love him always, even if we must stay apart."

Together they said, "By this charm of secrecy may our thoughts and tongues be sealed."

"Minerva, you didn't have to say all that."

"I meant it. Now for the blood charm, yes?"

Tom nodded his head. He used the tip of his wand to cut his finger. The blood dripped onto his wand. Minerva copied his actions. Holding the tips together once again, Tom said, "Seal this spell with the powers of the night. Obsconderus!" Minerva felt the rush of Dark magic slam into her, filling her brain with a fuzzy, intoxicating heat. She gasped. It was.. so good.

Tom saw the effect of the magic upon her. She had tasted the Darkness; maybe it would work on her mind and bring her to him after all. "Your thoughts are hidden now. Nothing will be detected. Your memories will be edited even if they are deposited into a Pensieve."

"Thank you, Tom" she said. "I can't stay any longer. I have to think things through, and if there's a way, maybe..."

"Maybe," he said, hopefully. "I'm.. I'm going to leave here tonight, but I want to know... I mean, you will tell me about the baby, won't you?" He was letting her go when he could keep her by his side with a flick of his wrist. But he wouldn't really want her under Imperio. She wouldn't be his Minerva then, she'd just be a simpering copy. And it wouldn't be right, which was a foreign concept for Tom, but true nonetheless.

Minerva nodded her head. "How will I contact you?"

"Take this," he said and conjured a small golden heart. "If you touch this and say, "Come to me", I will be by your side in an instant."

"Even if you are leading a Dark ritual with your followers," she said, a bit more acidly than she'd intended.

"Especially so. I will be at your beck and call, Minerva. Please let me be."

"I'll call you when I need you, Tom, I promise." Even as she said the words, she wasn't sure if she'd ever use the magical device at all. He would change, the Darkness would force it. The only question would be how long it would take. If he tried to take away the baby, or tried to hurt her...

"Do you need to go back to the Inn?" Tom asked, hands helplessly forced into the pockets of his robe.

"No, I have everything with me. I have to Apparate to a Portkey location."

"Then it's good-bye, for now."

"Good-bye, Tom," Minerva whispered, the tears welling again.

Tom rushed towards her, took her in his arms, and kissed her once more. "I will love you forever, Minerva. Please, don't leave me."

She touched his face gently with a trembling hand, stepped back, and Disapparated.