Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters presented in this story aside from Brenna, Patrick and Elly.
A/N: Guess what? Only two days!! I actually finished this hours after the last chapter. And chapter 5 is also already finished, so expect that next week. I warn you that this chapter is rather sad and does contain some MM/TMR. Also, be warned that there is a brief section near the end that involves sexual behaviour, but it is not explicit. Enjoy the chapter and please review!
Riddle Me This
Dear Mr. Potter,
I am writing to request the presence of you and your wife at a meeting concerning the behaviour of your daughter, Lily, and your nephew, Hugo, over the last weeks at Hogwarts. I will expect you promptly at ten on Saturday morning.
Sincerely,
Professor Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress of Hogwarts
Minerva put down her quill with a sigh. The face would not leave her alone. She kept remembering that smile, that tiny grin that had acknowledged her brilliance, that tiny grin that had sent her stomach to her knees. She wondered now why he had smiled at her. She wondered if maybe he saw a kindred spirit, someone else who had suffered and would maybe understand. She wondered if he had only seen someone he thought he could control. She wondered if he had sought comfort and she had failed him. She supposed it didn't matter. She had fallen for it either way.
Her head fell into her hands and she groaned in frustration. Some memories she could handle. She had begun to accept remembering Brenna. She had begun to appreciate reminiscing about her early years and Elly, Elly who she hadn't spoken to since she was seventeen, Elly who had been her best friend, Elly who had never forgiven her for this secret. She couldn't think of him. She didn't want to remember. But he wouldn't let her forget. After everything, she was still in love with him. With the him he had been for her, anyway, the boy no one else seemed to have seen. Maybe it had been an act, but that didn't change how she felt. And it had all started with that smile, that first Halloween, and then, here and there, a seat beside him in the library. And then the letters. Dear Tom, she had written. Dear Tom. She wept.
Dear Tom,
Thank you so much for your help in Potions today. I thought for sure I was going to blow all of us up. Do you know what the homework is? I was a bit distracted and forgot to copy it down.
Min
Dear Minerva,
You're welcome. There wasn't any homework. I think Professor Slughorn was too distracted to assign any. You certainly are horrible at Potions.
Tom
Dear Tom,
I'm not that bad! I could be worse. At least I didn't turn a match into an elephant instead of a needle! And call me Min!
Min
Dear Min,
Don't remind me.
Tom
Dear Tom,
Sorry. Meet me under the Quidditch stands to study for that test tomorrow?
Min
Dear Min,
Of course.
Tom
It had been innocent enough then, she thought. Just two young students studying together, in secret of course, since no one would approve of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin being seen together, but it had been innocent. She'd been thirteen before she'd really noticed he was handsome, and it was a few months more before she really fell prey to his charms.
Dear Min,
The Halloween Ball was lovely, don't you think? You dance beautifully.
Tom
Dear Tom,
I do? Thank you. You were quite dashing yourself.
Min
Dear Min,
Shall we meet to study on Saturday?
Tom
Dear Tom,
If we can go to Hogsmeade after. We'll go somewhere quiet. No one will see us.
Min
Dear Min,
If you wish.
Tom
She remembered how her stomach had swooped when he'd written that she danced beautifully. She remembered how they'd gone to the Hogshead for butterbeer and gotten into such trouble for going somewhere students weren't allowed. She remembered how Professor Dumbledore had warned her to be careful, that Tom was dangerous, but she hadn't believed him. She remembered being furious when anyone spoke against him. She remembered how Patrick had told her he was worried, how he had thought she was maybe going Dark, and she had ignored him. She remembered summers, when he was at the orphanage and couldn't write and she worried and worried about him in London, where terrible things had happened. She remembered how she'd pushed people away and sat, in secret, with Tom and some others, listening, but not really hearing, to pureblood propaganda. She remembered, too, how cold he was sometimes, how distant and how she'd wondered if she'd done something wrong. She remembered, once or twice, being afraid of him, or something he'd said or done. But it hadn't stopped her from falling in love with him. She even remembered the date, even.
It was April 17th, in her 4th year. She was fifteen and she hadn't a care in the world but Tom. She had long since stopped the childish pranks with Elly, though Elly often begged her to participate, she always refused. It was late afternoon, and she was doing her homework with Tom. All he had done was smile, and she was lost. She was a sucker for that smile. She would do almost anything for that smile. She knew then, at 7:13 PM on April 17th that she was in love with him. But she didn't tell him then, even when he asked if he could kiss her. Even when he did.
She didn't tell him because she noticed how he was distant after, and she thought, just maybe, she'd seen his eyes flash red. So she kept silent, and waited.
Her head was still in her hands. She remembered his smile so keenly. She still didn't really understand. She remembered how, fifth year, he got more and more distant. She remembered, vaguely, mentions of Slytherin's heir, but she hadn't dwelled on them. She fought with him once, she remembered, and shivered.
"Tom!" she yelled, frustrated. "Why do you never listen to me? I told you we had to meet to finish that project." She was furious.
"You should have just finished it yourself." His voice was cold and distant.
"Finished it myself?! I am not to be used Tom. I'm your girlfriend not your slave!! Sometimes I wonder..."
He cut her off. "Don't push me, Minerva." His voice was harder than ice and sharper than a knife. He hadn't called her Minerva since they were eleven. Suddenly she was frightened. "If you are quite finished, I will forget this happened. I will forget you dared to contradict me." He looked at her. "But don't expect me to forget again." She could only nod, and turn away. She didn't tell anyone. He was just like this sometimes. But she vowed never to argue with him again.
It hadn't been the only time Tom had been cold, distant, and terrifying. Then, she had told herself it was a phase, a quirk, that everything was fine. Now, she wondered if it was the other times that were a fluke, or even an act. After all, he had never really been kind.
Sixth year was the worst. Every day, she felt him slip further away. Soon, she was not welcome to sit with Tom and the others while they planned. Soon, it seemed he hardly ever spoke to her. She hadn't seen him smile in months. Desperate, she had finally told him the truth.
"Tom?" she whispered. "May I speak with you?" He nodded curtly, a bit absently. She pulled him into a deserted room. "Tom...Tom, I love you. I..." Her eyes filled with tears.
He looked up in surprise, but slowly, he smiled. She thought the smile was a bit different, but it was still a smile. He kissed her, and whispered in her ear, "I love you, too." "Come with me," he said later, and they snuck into a secret room and lay down, together, on the bed.
She was unsure, at first, but as he kissed her, she let go. She let him unrobe her. She let him inside her. It hurt more than she'd imagined, and he was rougher than she wanted, but she couldn't tell him to stop. And when she looked into his eyes, her heart burned, because they weren't even looking at her. They were cold, calculating and distant.
After, he rolled over and closed his eyes, his arm tight around her waist. He never looked at her. Her eyes filled with tears, but she refused to cry. Heart aching, she fell asleep.
It wasn't until she woke up the next morning, naked and alone, that she realized he'd been lying.