IN THE PENSIEVE
"Mr Potter, my office, NOW!" Professor McGonagall demanded with a rather annoyed tone. Harry sighed, rose from his seat at the Gryffindor table and marched obediently behind the Scottish witch, being careful not to tread on her billowing robes (Snape would have been proud).
When they arrived, Professor McGonagall gestured him inside and took a seat behind her desk. Harry looked around the office; it was warm with light stone walls (two of which were completely covered with books), wooden flooring, a large red rug and a huge crackling fireplace. He noticed a stone pensieve sitting in the corner of the room.
'Strange,' he thought, 'that's not normally in here.' But his ponderings were interrupted by the stern voice of his Transfiguration Professor.
"I believe you know why you are here, Mr Potter."
"I'm sorry, Professor, but he was insulting my father. He couldn't get away with that. I wouldn't let him." Harry's blood was beginning to boil at the thought of that drawling voice and smirking face with eyes full of venom.
"Even so, that is no reason to transfigure Mr Malfoy's dinner into a snake, no matter how happy it makes me to see that you have learned something in my classes, Potter." She smiled now. "We are Gryffindors, our pride is important to us and must remain intact. When it is threatened we attack. It is our nature. But all you need to remember is that your father was a great man and no amount of idiotic insults will ever change that."
"Thank you Professor," Harry replied, "you have no idea how much I needed to hear that."
"No trouble, it is true after all. Next time though… oh Merlin, this sounds so Slytherin… next time, make your attack a tad more subtle and sneaky. Got that?"
"Yes, Professor. I-" Harry was cut off by a loud knocking on the office door.
"Come in."
"Ah, Minerva, could I talk to you for a moment?"
"Of course, Headmaster. Mr Potter and I were just discussing the concept of subtlety. Ah, Potter, would you mind waiting here for me to return? I trust this won't take very long?"
"Not at all. Two minutes, that is all I need." Answered Professor Dumbledore.
"Of course I'll wait, Professor." The two Professors exited the study swiftly, leaving Harry taking in his surroundings once more. He tried to stay seated but the pensieve in the corner persisted in catching his eye. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him and Harry started towards the intricately carved stone basin.
Its watery contents swirled and glistened with a fresh memory. Harry was so drawn to it. He felt like a magpie. Something just seemed to tell him that it was important. Then, all of a sudden, he was falling, plummeting into nothingness, until he felt solid ground beneath his feet.
He was now standing on an oak floor in the centre of a large wood-panelled room. A fire was raging in the marble fireplace where photographic people danced in their frames on the mantelpiece. A grandfather clock was emitting a low ticking noise in the background. Harry could see two figures sitting opposite each other on plump red armchairs. One was a slim, raven-haired woman, with soft facial features that contrasted with her sharp jaw line, who was wearing fitted green robes. The other was a pale, raven-haired man wearing long black robes and a terrible smirk. They could have been related, if it were not for their eyes giving them away; hers were big emerald ones, alive with joy, whereas his were narrow grey ones, dead and marred with torment.
They had an air of old acquaintances about them, yet the atmosphere was thick with tension and neither looked very comfortable.
"Well, Minerva, it's nice to see you again," said the man in a cold drawl.
"I wish I could say the same for you. Alas, I cannot," replied the woman with a soft Scottish lilt.
"Sarcasm never was very becoming on you. I heard you became Head of Department over at the Ministry… congratulations."
"Oh, cut to the chase, Tom. We both know that you didn't show up here to have a nice little chat about my career choices. What do you want?" She looked him directly in the eyes now.
"I want answers, Minerva. I still love you and I have done since the first time I laid eyes on you. I want to know, do you still love me?" Tom asked, grabbing her wrists.
"I used to Tom, I really did. But now… I could never, never love a murderer," she freed her wrists from his grip and refused to meet his gaze.
"So… what… you went off and married a filthy little Mudblood?" He walked over to the fireplace and removed a photograph from the mantelpiece. It depicted a tall brunette man and Minerva dancing around a ballroom. "Is this him?"
"What exactly is wrong with me marrying a Muggle-born?" she asked defensively.
"You could have done so much better for yourself," he said smoothly, "It just seems such a shame to contaminate that lovely, pure blood of yours. Removed you from the family tapestry, have they? What is it they call you now, I wonder? Blood traitor? Scum?" He spoke with all the venom that he could muster.
"Just because my family have sick Pureblood ideals, that does not mean that I share their twisted views. And, in all honesty, I could not give a damn what they think of me or my husband." Minerva was red with fury, her hands balled up into fists.
Harry was shocked, intrigued, proud and confused all at the same time. Shocked at his Head of Houses' revelations (she used to love Riddle?), not to mention how stunning she looked. Intrigued as to why Tom Riddle (also known as Devil's Spawn) was sitting in her living room. Proud that Professor McGonagall was not taking any of his insults. Confused by the whole situation. They had been in love? Why did Riddle turn up there? Why was he being so civil (by his standards, anyway, at least he wasn't cursing her)?
"How did you find me Tom?" she inquired curiously.
"It would seem that our Minister is not so incompetent when he has a dash of Veritaserum in his system."
"You didn't…" her voice broke off mid-sentence.
"That hardly matters anymore."
"Tom, I would like you to leave now, please."
"I will leave in a moment. Just… do me a favour?" His voice was low and pleading but his eyes glistened with malice, a look which Harry was familiar with. He could see the corners of Riddle's mouth twitch into a dark smile.
"What is it Tom?" She glared at him suspiciously with a look almost identical to Harry's. "Tom, I-I-" her astounded stutter was cut off as Riddle brushed his lips against hers. But that didn't last long, for Minerva began to push him away.
"Tom, what in Merlin's name-" she was, again, cut off by Riddle's lips. Harry could, this time, see a ruby ring, on the index finger of her right hand, glow green for a second.
"Tom-" again, she was silenced by Riddle. She stuck her hand inside the pocket of her robes, searching, in vain, for her wand. Another push.
"What have you done with my wand?" she demanded. He smiled and removed a long mahogany wand from his own pocket. She lunged for it but he caught her and pushed her back so that she was lying on top of the long scarlet sofa.
"Now, that wasn't very polite, was it? You're just making it worse for yourself," he said, smirking, "Especially since you don't have a wand to defend yourself with and your darling husband is nowhere in sight. Petrificus Totalus!" He pointed his wand at her throat and Minerva couldn't move a muscle.
Harry watched on in horror as Riddle began to unbutton the front of her robes. He wanted to shout out to somebody, anybody, to come and save her. But they wouldn't hear. Riddle got about five buttons down when the door suddenly burst open with a loud 'crash'.
"Rictumsempra," cried a stout man with a thin layer of red hair. Riddle was propelled back into a slumped position at the base of the wall. The man then removed the full body bind and spoke to Minerva. "Min, are you alright?"
"Oh, thank Merlin, I'm fine, Alastor." Alastor summoned her wand and returned it to its owner. She accepted it and hurtled towards the four figures standing in the doorway.
First, there was Alastor, then a tall brunette man with rocky facial features and a muscled frame. Behind him stood a medium-height witch with long blonde hair, dull brown eyes and broad shoulders. Next to her was a short blonde-haired wizard who looked quite similar to the woman beside him. They were all dressed in long black robes with silver 'A's emblazoned on their chests.
Minerva immediately through her arms around the brunette wizard who spoke in a smooth, silky voice.
"I'm so sorry, darling. I should have been here. I'm so sorry…"
"Look, love, th-there's something I need to tell you…" But Harry never heard what she was going to say because he felt the strange force plucking him back to the surface of the memory and into Professor McGonagall's study. When his feet hit the wooden floor, Harry heard a voice.
"How much did you see?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Everything, I think."
"Well," Professor McGonagall sighed, "I suppose you would like me to explain?"
"I-if you're sure, Professor."
"Well," she started, "when I went to Hogwarts, Tom Riddle was a year below me and we started dating when I was in my sixth year. But when I got into my final year, strange things started happening and a girl died, in the end. By the time I graduated, we just… went our separate ways. I married my husband and moved on with my life. At the time of the memory you just saw, I hadn't seen Tom for about seven years but I had heard of the terrible things that he had done. I was Head of the Auror Department at the time and I was also three months pregnant. That's what I was about to tell my husband when the memory ended.
"Tom just turned up on my doorstep, out of the blue, and said he needed to talk. I had no idea he would…" she broke off and looked towards the window in an effort to disguise the solitary tear that was trickling down her cheek.
"Anyway, the four people you saw were all Aurors. There was Alastor Moody, Marcus, my husband, and Rita and Maxim Ridoult. We used to communicate via those rings, I assume you saw it glow?" Harry nodded as she continued, "They glowed whenever one of us was in danger, one of my more brilliant ideas, I must say. The memory you just witnessed made us Riddle's top targets, so we had to watch our steps.
"Then the Order of the Phoenix piqued his interests. He did not know that I was a member the first time around. I avoided Headquarters like the plague and, in those damn group photos that Albus insisted on having, I preferred to stay behind the camera, least of all because I was th only one who could work it properly. So when we were betrayed, the photographs were passed onto Riddle and he began to pick us off, one by one. He forgot about us, that is, until we fought him face-to-face. And now, everybody is a target. I just cannot help feeling that this is my fault. If I had refused to let him in that day…"
"He might have killed you there and then. Professor, it's okay. There was nothing you could have done, honestly." Harry said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. Professor McGonagall smiled sadly at his words.
"Thank you." She pulled him into a tight hug and Harry stiffened in her arms (it just felt plain weird to be hugging a teacher) but, after a few seconds, he returned her embrace. When they stepped apart Harry spoke:
"Now, Professor, I do believe that we were talking about some sneaky attack plans." The two laughed for quite some time and they talked for almost an hour before Harry retired back to the Common Room. He saw his best friends there; Hermione reading a book on Ancient Runes by the fireplace, and Ron feeding Pig widgeon a few owl treats.
"You will not believe what just happened to me!"
A/N: See that little green button? Yeah, that's the one. Please press it and send me a review. Pleeeeeeease (not that I'm desperate or anything… except I am, but that is beside the point) ;-)