Title: Might As Well Try And Change The Stars
Summary:Tom Riddle and Minerva McGonagall finally meet after twelves years of pain and agony. Can one possibly change their stars?
Spoilers: SS, possibly CoS and OOTP. Not much though.
Rating: R; just to be safe. Sexual innuendo.
Disclaimer: I do not own in anyway, shape or form, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter and everything in the works of Harry Potter. It is published by Bloomsbury Books and © goes to Warner Brothers as well as the very talented J.K Rowling.
"Might As Well Try And Change The Stars"
By Darkened-Roses
She remembered the night very clearly, how could she not?
It had been as normal as a life Minerva McGonagall could ever had hoped for; she was happy with what she did -even if some of it could undoubtedly be called harmful, she had a very nice place to live near friends and family, had enough money to halfway fill a vault in Gringotts, and yet, she couldn't seem to be happy, as if some part of her had died when she had left Hogwarts.
That made perfect sense, she thought to herself undeniably, as she flipped another page of the classical wizard literature she had not partaken on herself to read a few years back at Hogwarts. She wasn't really reading the book, that was apparent by how little she seemed to be taking in of it's contents. At least the tea here was good enough to satisfy her. The day was coming to an end and most of the guests or visitors to the small café in Diagon Alley had already left. This was absolutely comforting to Minerva; she didn't liked to have her progress hindered when she was deep in thought. A light tap awoke Minerva from her rumination and she looked up to find an employee in the small shop smiling at her, kindly.
"It's closing time Minnie."
Minerva nodded and picked up her belongings, the candle on the table finally folding in on its wick and burning out.
The night air was warm and truly felt like the mild summer the wiziarding community had felt for a month or so in time. Gossamer tendrils of cloud floated overhead in the tepid breeze as Minerva strolled down the cobblestone street. Shopkeepers were shooing away the last of inhabitants and boarding up their shops for the night. Strangely enough, Minerva felt a twinge of loneliness as she made her way up to her flat, book in hand, not really caring about her pace.
As she reached the landing to her makeshift quarters, she looked up and stopped dead in her tracks.
The cloaked figure turned around, he was rather tall and impressively built. A strange glimmer in his eyes shone through as he spun around in his old manor, a quick look at her and the anomalous flicker vanished. He smiled, that old smile she used to know so well. He began to advance towards Minerva. Before she had time to react; the man had her in a soft hug. Minerva blinked rather confusedly as the man pulled away from her, his hands resting on her shoulders as he beamed down at her.
"Minerva. It has been to long."
With that the strange man placed a kiss on Minerva's obsidian hair. Minerva looked up at him, shook her head, and then strolled past him to her door. She fumbled with the keys; she preferred the old muggle form of security along with the added help of wizardry. Her hands were shaking, her mouth suddenly having a dry spell.
"Tom. What are you doing here?"
She finally got the keys into the door handle and waving her wand over the door she entered followed by the rather perplexed newcomer. He followed her to he kitchen like a lost puppy.
"I thought I'd see you. It's been so long…"
"Twelve years." Minerva said with a bit of bitterness in her quavering voice.
Tom laughed nervously, coming up behind her and placing his long hands on her shoulders.
"Have you really been counting? You always were very stringent on keeping time…"
Minerva dropped a tea glass, whirling around to Tom, the container shattering into pieces on the hardwood floor.
"Counting! Of course I've been counting Tom! Don't you dare tell me off for counting! You left without a word, without a note, no owls in twelve years either…"
She bent down to pick up the glass shards, holding her tongue from letting out stinging words. Tom remained silent, after awhile careening down to help her as well. Minerva ultimately vanished the pieces with her wand, staring down at the ground rather intently. Then, a hand across her cheek. She looked up to that all to familiar gaze, that all to memorable smile and memories came flooding back to her mind.
"… I'm sorry. Can you ever forgive an old love my puppet?"
The pet name that only she had allowed him to whisper made her heart ache. Breaking down, she sobbed into his chest, her nails digging into his robes. Tom patted her reassuringly on the back, stroking her hair with his free hand.
"Shh… it's okay my puppet."
Minerva looked up to him, restraining her self and regaining her conformity.
"You were gone… I didn't know what to do." She shook her head as she spoke.
"I know. I'm sorry but I'm back now. Everything is fine…"
Tom cupped her head in his hand, smiling down at her and bent forward kissing her. Minerva let her mind go, forgetting the past and indulged in the embrace of their lips. Tom withdrew, biting her lower lip as he did so. He smiled fondly at her and once more pulled her into a hug, this one more personal and affectionate.
"I missed you so much. Merlin, if I could've done anything in the past twelve years, it would've been to see you again. I finally found you in the papers, 'Best unspeakable of our time', nothing else would've suited you my puppet…"
Minerva became slightly flummoxed at his words that didn't make sense. She pulled away from him, gazing towards the heavens and his face.
"That wasn't in the papers Tom… how did you find out? That's classified ministry information."
Tom sighed, pulling her back towards him.
"Never you mind Minnie. That's all in the past."
Despite what he had said, Minerva was still rather unsettled by his secretive ways.
Tom awoke in the middle of the night, his fingers grasping numbly at the silk sheets. He ran a loose hand through his hair, only to find out that he was rather nude and lying next to a contently sleeping Minerva. He couldn't help but smile, the moonlight cast off her face awkwardly, her ebon hair having been cast into ringlets from the night escapade lay all over her pillow and crept onto his in silken layers. Quietly Tom slipped into his trousers, not bothering to button it up.
Minerva's flat was actually very extravagant he noted as he walked over to the window seat and slouched down into it. Actually, her room looked rather like the Gryffindor's Head Girl room. The scarlet intermingling with the gold all over, the high-canopied bed, and the window seat he was sitting in. She really was a Gryffindor at heart.
Pity he was a Slytherin. He would've given up a lot to have a room like this but he had his travels to consider, as well as pocket cash. It wasn't easy working off of his grandfather's fortune. Sure, there were at least five vaults in Gringotts devoted entirely to him, but that was hardly enough for his future plans.
Tom pulled his knee closer to his chest, his other leg dangling off of the seat. His gaze wandered over the rooftops of Diagon Alley and eventually into London, quickly turning to an owl flying across the moon. He leaned precariously into a crimson pillow with golden bows, sighing.
"Up late?"
Tom turned quickly to the sound then smirked. Minerva was advancing towards him, his shirt clothing her curvilinear body but it's translucence showing how cold she truly was. She slid onto the seat in front of him, pulling her knees up to her breasts. Her hazel gaze looked up at him from above withdrawn knees, her hair still in ringlets from the perspiration from a few hours earlier. Tom reached out and brushed away some hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
"My puppet…"
The grandfather clock tolled once, the phoenix bobbing its head in the light then withdrawing back into its confinement and darkness. Minerva's eyes fluttered at his simple touch.
"Hmm?"
Tom looked at her reproachfully then back out the window.
"What do you want Minerva? Name anything and I'll get it for you."
Minerva snorted and smirked, leaning back into the comforting pillows.
"I want the world Tom, I want the world." She rolled her eyes as if this were some kind of joke.
Tom turned back to her, lost in deep contemplation.
"I can do that."
His voice had suddenly dropped, his eyes loosing their sense of emotion. He gazed at her as if he were serious. Minerva blinked then sighed, looking back out the window, her breath slightly fogging up the glass.
"You might as well try and change the stars." Her voice was barely audible, hardly even a whisper.
"Isn't it possible to change the stars though Minerva? Isn't it?"
Minerva sighed and stood back up, heading towards the bed in a stumble. She shook her head in silence then laid back down on the mattress.
"It's always power with you isn't it Tom?"
Tom stood up and walked over to the bed, laying next down to her and running a smooth hand down her pale backside.
"Only as long as if you're in it with me."
Minerva sniffed; Tom trailed kisses down her neck. She rolled over and looked up at him, running her hand down his cheek, then kissed him, his tongue beginning to ravage the depths of her mouth. She pulled back, Tom blinking at her slowly.
"You know I can't right?"
Tom sighed deeply then clung her to him, enjoying the sensation of her breasts pressing up against him but knowing he would never feel it again. One last time.
"Yes, I know my puppet…"
Then the two lost themselves in each other, lost themselves in the surroundings, in a simple touch, in a simple graze of the skin. Minerva was only aware of Tom- and finally having him again. Having his scent, having his touch, having his body, having him. Yet, knowing that she would probably never have it again. That simple factor caused tears to roll down her cheeks but he brushed them away- brushed away the pain.
Finally he collapsed down on her, panting heavily. Sound was one of the first senses to come back as the grandfather clock tolled three times then all was silent again. Tom rolled over and Minerva leaned onto his chest, her fingers trailing along his body, her mind lost in thought. Tom stroked that hair, that hair that he loved so much.
"I love you…"
Tom looked downwards as the stroking stopped of her long and smooth fingers weighed heavily down on his bare chest. Her eyes were closed, the moonlight reflecting off the lids them, and only them.
"I love you… my puppet…"
Then Tom looked once more out the window.
Minerva awoke, grasping at thin air and silk sheets. She huddled into a ball, smelling his scent and feeling the heat that was still left on the gold. She could hardly describe what she felt at that moment, it hurt- it hurt beyond words.
Standing up, she noted a small trinket dangling from her neck and touched it numbly.
Dashing to the mirror, clinging a sheet to her body, she looked and saw a small blue and green orb dangling in a silver holder. Then the words of the night before rang in her mind:
"I want the world Tom, I want the world…" "I can do that"
Minerva's lower lip trembled and she clung the sheet to her face, breaking down.
In a flash like lightning she grabbed her wand from the bedside table and magicked out of nowhere a pair of scissors and placed them to her hair.
"I want the world Tom, I want the world…"
A quick snip and a lock fell to the floor. In several minutes, a pile of black surrounded her. Finding a spare piece of ribbon, she tied up what remained of her hair into a bun at the base of her neck. Never again would Minerva McGonagall allow someone to scar her; only when he finally returned would she let her hair down. Yet, she knew she wasn't the only one who had been scarred either.
Tom looked out the window, his mind as foggy as the smog outside as the train hurtled onwards into nothingness. He placed a hand in his outer robe pocket, his hand hitting something rather unyielding. Confused and curious he pulled it out.
A golden pocket watch dangled from a fine golden chain. Opening it up, he looked to the snake and a lion in carved very intricately behind the numerous hands. He twisted it, to get a better look at the other side in the dim lighting. Across the other side, in very familiar script inscribed in ruby lettering read the words,
"You Might As Well Try And Change The Stars"
Tom couldn't help but smile as he closed the watch and placed it securely in the breast pocket above his beating heart.
He could;
He thought to himself-
And he would;
Somehow manage to change the stars.
-Finis-