Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Minerva curled and stretched gently before hopping into the shower. The warm blanket of the shower dried the soreness from her exhausted muscles, just as she swiftly toweled the water from her aching body. The past two weeks of training had been beyond intense. Albus and Tom switched off designing obstacles courses and training scenarios for the staff. Each day left the staff, accustomed to only slightly less dangerous work of teaching teenage wizards, more sore and tired than they had been in years. And Minerva was beginning to feel the effect. Her feline animagus crept into tiny sensibilities such as stretching. Tom walked into the room several times to find her in the most uncanny stretches, and he would chuckle and lovingly wrestle her out of it.
Albus agreed to enact Tom's plan after a one-month training period. As a whole, the meeting had gone rather well.
"It is time for us to fight." The entire room seemed to hold their formerly bubbling energy in check. This was a joke. Dumbledore had finally lost his mind, and the entire resistance was going to collapse.
"Aye! It is!" Hoping to carry the synergy of the meeting, Minerva stood in support of the Headmaster.
"I agree." Tom rose victorious. "Now, Grindelwald has a major weakness…"
"Wait!" Albus turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "I agree. But first we must have one month to train. The people in this room are some of the most capable witches and wizards in all of England. But my conscience will only let me rest knowing that I have done everything in my power to make sure they are in the best form for winning this battle. The odds are not spectacular, but we can make them better."
"I'm with you!" Archimedes Vector replied, his enthusiasm bursting forth once again.
"You'll have my broom on your side!" Rolanda Hooch popped up. Her eagerness was unstoppable, and the tsunami rippled down the entire table.
"Very good!" After a nod from Dumbledore, Riddle took charge. Every single one of his dangerously charismatic teeth flashed as he laid out the details of his plan.
Minerva came into the bedroom to see Tom gingerly tending a rather deep scratch. Dumbledore had created a mock battle for them today, and a few tights spots had blown wide open. Tom's side took a few blows, but the ever heroic Riddle made sure he took the worst of it. His return volleys ruthlessly vanquished the opposing side. Minerva minced over to help him. As she finished wrapping up his wrist, Tom began to gaze at her so intensely she was forced to question.
"Whatever are you thinking, dear?" Her eyes bonded with his for just a moment before she jerked away, startled with the intensity. "Tom?" she asked, carefully rechecking the bandage on his arm.
"I can't get it out of my head, Min," He mumbled in his shakingly charming baritone. "Do you Gemini Lestrange? I had him in detention a few weeks ago."
"That boy!" She joked, returning the first aid supplies to the bathroom. "Do you know, he has such a talent for Transfiguration, if he would only take himself seriously! The other day, he turned a quill into a rose bouquet and handed it to the young Prewitt girl, Marion. He acted as if it was nothing! Even a seventh year should not be able to so casually perform that kind of magic!"
"Yes, he was talking about having something worth fighting for, darling." Tom's arm snaked gently around Minerva's waist as she returned to the bed. He pulled her closer and reveled in the heather waft of her hair. "And do you know what I realized?"
"What, dear?" Minerva was nearly holding her breath. Tom had not behaved so gently and sentimentally in a very long time.
"I realized that you are my thing worth fighting for."
"Oh… Tom!" Minerva relaxed into his shoulder. She had not felt this level of ease and relaxation around him for years.
"And you know what else?" Tom continued, his fingers gently, adoring pouring into her hair, "I started thinking about the end of this whole business. When we've vanquished the evil and can live an ordinary life again."
"I've been thinking about that too," Minerva sighed into the strong peppermint smell of his shirt.
"And what I want most is to have a nice quiet cottage somewhere in the Highlands where I can escape with you summer and holidays!" He pulled her closer. "But the most important part is having you near me."
She was so close to him, he couldn't see the tears of happiness that jeweled her eyes.
"And I've been thinking, darling," His voice fell uncharacteristically uncertain, almost timid, "I know we haven't… I mean it's never… Children. I want there to be children. Our children. The idea makes me happier than I have ever been."
"I…" Minerva had to fight to control her voice over the tears "I would like that."
Tom felt the tears, and pulled back. "Are you crying, Minerva? I…" Minerva stiffened just a bit, almost preparing for his typical wrath. But his voice continued to pacifically float toward her, "I feel that way too, sometimes, when I think what we are up against." He pulled her back to his chest, so she could feel his heart pounding against sparkling cheek, "But when I think what we stand to lose, there is no question."
Minerva had never felt more secure, more at peace in her adult life.
***
There was one soul in the castle, however, who did not feel anywhere near safe or at peace. The torment of emotion was, in fact, what drove the young soul from his prescribed dorm into the halls of Hogwarts that very night. The boldness of this act cannot be underestimated. The Halls of Hogwarts, at best, were twisting, shifting, and, even in broad daylight, fairly dark. But on a night such as this, with tortured ghosts gusting through and tortured children decorating the air with putrid sobs, the poor Ravenclaw had to borrow a great deal of courage from the House he had set off to visit. Even as he stood outside the fat lady's portrait, quietly awaiting his hopeful rendezvous, his nerves were on absolute edge.
The door swung open and a merry, excitable pixie sized girl slipped out. Her flaming red hair seemed to warm not only the passage, but the face of the lad who waited in the shadows. She flitted to him, and beamed a conspiratorial, spritely smile. Many foolish but forgivable words were exchanged, with hopeless daring. And finally the sprite evanesced back to her dorm, leaving the poor, blue Ravenclaw to stare after her, as if held by a charm that would not release.
***
The next day, shortly after lunch, Albus Dumbledore received an unexpected visit from a student. The young Lestrange tripped his way into the mysterious office of the Headmaster, looking rather rosy and bold. He made his stance before the expansive administerial desk and person and began his plea.
"Professor Dumbledore, I'm Gemini Lestrange," He began with the basics, hoping to gain momentum for his more daring feats.
"Yes! Seventh Year Ravenclaw! I know you, Mr. Lestrange! Continue!" Dumbledore smiled, pleasantly. Minerva murmured of the boy's skill in her classroom a few occasions.
"Sir, I know we are living in Dark Times, the worst we have seen for several generations. I am aware that my family is very much allied with these Dark forces, and has always been enamored of such elements." He was getting on much better now. "But, sir, as Professor Riddle will tell you, I do not share their love of the Dark Arts."
"I am very aware of this, Young Mr. Lestrange," Dumbledore nodded, encouragingly. Gemini looked very important, as if he had a man's burden to voice. Dumbledore was thoroughly trying to encourage his strength and persistence in the matter. "Please, continue!"
"As a Ravenclaw, sir, I have begun to notice that things about the castle have changed the last few weeks." He filled his chest with one last heroic breath before the plunge, "Professor Dumbledore, I know that you are training an army to fight against the Dark Emperor. I would like to join your army!"
"What? Mr. Lestrange, are you quite sure?" Dumbledore stood now, somewhat alarmed. Had they been so obvious?
"Do not worry, sir. None of the other students know of it, I am sure." Gemini gained boldness with every word, "But, sir, I have found something worth fighting for! I am of age! And as a young man, practically my entire life hangs on the outcome of this battle. I think I should be allowed to fight it."
"One moment, Gemini."Dumbledore raised his hand, "Professor Riddle! You may step forward." Materializing out of a bookcase, Professor Riddle stepped forward to join Dumbledore, "Surely, you knew I would detect you! Why did you eavesdrop?" He demanded, almost irked.
"I have paid special attention to this young man in the past few weeks. And I believed I knew the vein of this conversation. I merely wanted to confirm my suspicions, and personally vouch for his joining us." Professor Riddle's eyes were at their most persuasive. "He has great skill in Transfiguration. And while not versed in the Dark Arts, he could hold his own on the battle field."
"Very well, Mr. Lestrange," Dumbledore turned back to Gemini, with a slightly puzzled expression, "We will bring the matter up at our next meeting. Please, do not discuss this matter outside of this room. Mention this to no one else. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore! I will tell no one!" the Lestrange stood tall as a man.
Shattering the statuesque moment, a ruckus charged up the stairs. The door to the room exploded in one massive knock, and all three members of the room whirled with drawn wands on the intruders.
It was Covert Intelligence, Grindelwald's eyes and ears. They were responsible for the vanishing of many family members of those at the school. They had never gained reason to breach Hogwart's sacred gates. But today, they had corrupted its halls with the greatest boon of all.
"Albus Dumbledore?" a grey-robbed Wizard with matching slimy hair stepped forward with an officially sealed parchment.
"Yes." Dumbledore's jaw tensed, as did his hand.
"We have reason to suspect that you are conspiring against the Emperor and his sacred government. You are to come with us for questioning." A terrible, slimy voice intoned, "And you, Tom Riddle, are to assume his as Headmaster of Hogwarts, until such time as he is returned."
Tom's crackled with spells ready to be shot off, but Dumbledore beat them to his mind, Wait, Tom. Dumbledore's voice reprimanded, Not here, not now. Remember the plan, think of the students. Think of Minerva. With that, he was escorted from the office of Headmaster, and from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
A/N: PLOT TWIST! Ha! Right, thank you to my wonderful reviewers. I hope you are enjoying this story! Let me know your thoughts! Plot bones are even acceptable! Thanks for reading!