If Danielle had ever needed Dumbledore's Vita Servo, this was it. Everything around her seemed to shimmer and melt away as she stared into Voldemort's red eyes. She had no hope that he would spare her life—after all, if he hadn't spared her in the Forbidden Forest, why would she have reason to believe he would do it now? No, all she had on her side was the element of surprise, and that was only liable to last a few seconds at most.

Protego Maxima, Danielle thought as fervently as she could. She felt a Shield Charm burst into existence around her, sparing her life for another moment. Oddly enough, the noise seemed to vanish around her, and she saw rather than heard Voldemort's scream of fury, saw his mouth snarl the words Clara Ashford—

And something slammed into her with such force that she was thrown backwards, landing on the stone floor several feet away. She wasn't sure if her Shield Charm had broken or not, so she quickly cast another one before scrambling to her feet, searching for what—or who—had caused the collision.

A grotesque, sneering face loomed up in front of her, and Danielle instinctively cast a Stunning Spell at Schefflur, who, she realized with horror, had cornered her. Voldemort and Bellatrix were nowhere to be seen, and neither were Tom or Slytherin.

"Got you," Schefflur murmured in her ear, so close that Danielle could almost feel his lips. A sudden wave of disgust and revulsion rose up inside her, and she blindly kicked out. Her foot came into contact with a hard metal barrier, and she couldn't conceal her gasp as she fell back against the wall, her teeth digging into her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood.

Schefflur was standing over her, a triumphant grin on his features that had once been handsome, his wand pointed at her throat. "Not so fierce now, are we?" Before Danielle could answer, he grabbed her arm and she squeezed her eyes shut as she felt them Disapparate, trying to struggle out of his grasp.

When her feet found solid ground again she spun away from him, casting Stunning Spell after Stunning Spell at him. Schefflur only laughed, dodging them with ease as he strode towards her. Danielle had a sinking feeling he was holding back, and was just waiting until he became annoyed with her before he really put effort into it.

They were in the entryway, the floor spinning crazily and the torches burning blue streaks across the backs of Danielle's eyes. The sounds of battle were still audible from the other rooms, and she had no idea where the exit was. She used to know—Schefflur himself had told her when he was still disguised as Holstone—but she couldn't remember. She couldn't remember anything. Terror had paralyzed her, slowing down the speed of her thoughts and reactions.

"I am going to kill you, Clara Ashford," Schefflur said in a low voice. He had stopped in place and was now surveying her with a detached, clinical interest. "I am going to kill you in front of your husband, slowly and painfully. I will laugh at his rage before I kill him in turn, vanquishing his immortality. And then I will bring your bodies back to 1947, where Lorcan McLaird will explain how a stupid little girl changed the course of the timeline, and how polite, charming Tom Riddle was destined to become the next Dark Lord. You might even say I am…doing the world a favour."

"Shut up," Danielle hissed, although she was shaking. "Slytherin is going to eventually kill you. He is only using you—"

"And I am not merely using him?" Schefflur shrugged. His tone was still lighthearted, a complete turnaround from his previous behaviour. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Once the entire wizarding community knows of your actions, I shall take your son and raise him as my own. Salazar will re-administer the curse, and he shall die in the same way that his father should have."

"But you said you wouldn't touch Will, that Slytherin wanted his descendants to survive—"

"Do you mean that you actually believed that? You are even more idiotic than I thought. Surely you do not possess the maturity or the intelligence to reproduce. It's a shame, really. Salazar wanted you to be killed while you were carrying the child. He would have succeeded if that wretched Dumbledore hadn't interfered, like he always does. Why do you think Salazar only stepped out of the shadows when Riddle found a cure for the curse? He's kept an eye on his descendants for centuries. He was proud of them until that filthy blood traitor married a Muggle and tainted the Gaunt line forever. It was not without great regret that Salazar made the decision to eradicate his line."

Danielle's head was spinning. All this time, she had thought that Slytherin and Schefflur's goal was to let Will live, and it was her and Tom who were in danger. But she had been foolish. She had overestimated herself. Dimly, she could see two figures moving on the opposite end of the room, but she paid them no heed. It was too dark to see anything properly—with luck, they would just think she was an ally.

"It will be a privilege to watch the light leave your son's eyes," Schefflur was crowing, trying to provoke her. "Dead before he even has a chance to truly live—"

Rage boiled up inside Danielle; rage such as she had never felt before. It was with a half-crazed mind that she raised her wand and bellowed out, "Crucio!" at Schefflur.

He was blasted off his feet, landing in the middle of the floor, but he wasn't down for long. "You think you can cast an Unforgivable Curse on me, Mrs Riddle?" he taunted. "I, who am a master of disguise and who knows the secret to immortality?"

"Crucio!" Danielle screamed again. This time Schefflur let out a cry of pain; he tried to block the curse but wasn't fast enough. Danielle knew she wouldn't be able to keep him down for long—it was taking every ounce of her mental concentration to hold the curse, and she was already beginning to weaken.

The two shadowy figures had nearly reached her by now, and with a surge of relief she saw that one of them was Tom, seeming as unruffled and untouched as ever. Unfortunately, the other one was Slytherin. He and Tom were still dueling fiercely, flashes of light brightening the room.

Tom turned his head, and caught Danielle's gaze: he looked almost proud. In her subsequent confusion, the curse was broken and Schefflur lay unmoving on the floor but panting loudly, a badly bleeding cut slashed across his throat. Danielle was horrified at herself: she had never believed she would be able to cast the Cruciatus Curse on someone—even if it was Schefflur. But the fury that was still rushing through her veins told her otherwise.

While Schefflur was struggling to stand and Slytherin was momentarily held back by a Shield Charm, Tom hissed, "Turn the dial back, Clara," and threw the wristwatch at her. Danielle caught it neatly and immediately began to twist the knob, but she realized too late that she had absolutely no idea how to use it or how to get them back to 1947. She gulped and, glancing up at the wizards dueling in front of her, knew that she had nothing to lose: mustering up what little energy she had left, she cast a bubble over the four of them, enveloping the room in a burst of golden light. At the same time, she prepared a mental picture in her mind of her timeline, thinking of Will and Alyssa and Alphard and Dylan—

Danielle was jerked sideways, but she hadn't Apparated: she heard Schefflur let out a stream of curses and Tom's answering threat, low and deadly. When her surroundings came back into focus she noted with disappointment that they were still in the Entrance Chamber; nothing appeared to have changed except for the fact she could no longer hear the duels in the other rooms, which was probably a good sign.

Schefflur stumbled to his feet and Danielle jumped away from him lest he try to attack her again, but this time his eyes weren't on her: he was glaring at Tom, his face absolutely livid. "What did you say, Riddle?" he snapped.

Tom seemed unfazed as he replied, "I merely pointed out that it was no surprise your wife left you. In fact, it is a wonder she stayed with you in the first place—"

The other wizard moved so fast Danielle barely saw it happen: he threw himself at Tom and punched him squarely in the jaw. But Tom, used to years of his childhood being bullied at the orphanage, grabbed him by the collar and whispered something under his breath. It was only two words, but Danielle recognized the green flash of light that lit up the room, briefly reflecting Slytherin across the chamber, who had taken the momentary distraction to spin on his heel and disappear. She let out a cry and started across the room toward him, but the old wizard had already vanished.

Blinking the light out of her eyes, Danielle abruptly changed course and instead hurried for Tom, who had released his grip on Schefflur's body and was looking triumphant. "Are you sure he's dead?" she asked him, which was probably the stupidest thing she could have said. But after the events of the past twenty-four hours, Danielle wouldn't have been at all surprised if her family had walked up to her and explained that her entire time in the past had all been a very, very vivid dream and she would wake up back in 2011.

"Yes," was all Tom answered. He looked sideways at her, and she reached up to gently wipe the blood from his jaw. "You have surprised me, Clara. I did not think you capable of using the Cruciatus Curse." The proud and almost fond look was back in his eyes now.

"I know," Danielle said quietly, looking down at Schefflur's blank, dead eyes. "Me neither."

They had, by some miracle, made it back to their original timeline and year. Tom had taken the wristwatch from Schefflur's hand, and when he wasn't looking—although Danielle knew full well he was aware of what she was doing—had taken both wristwatches and tossed them into the Thames as soon as they'd left the Ministry. Before they'd left, she had returned her Time-Turner to the Time Room, already dreaming up ways in which the stock of Time-Turners could be destroyed forever. It had been, she realized, a very unwise idea to even think up the invention in the first place.

They Apparated to the Blacks' manor not long afterwards, and Danielle filled him in on Schefflur's speech, making it clear that she was worried Slytherin would try to harm Will. She wasn't sure whether she was imagining Tom's subsequent disquiet, or if there was a very real flicker of concern deep in his eyes. "If you wish to protect him, Clara, you cannot leave him with your friends any longer. They cannot properly defend themselves, let alone an infant."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't betray her desperation.

"You will have to make a choice: either you stay with him at all times and protect him yourself, or send him somewhere else until the danger is past."

Danielle's heart immediately began to beat faster. "What do you mean, 'send him somewhere else'? Are you suggesting I give him up?"

"Of course not," Tom snapped. "I am not going to give up my son. I was speaking of temporary measures—Vauxhall Orphanage, for instance."

Danielle stopped short, her mouth dropping open. "You want to send Will there?" she nearly shouted, unable to bear the thought of him growing up in the musty, forbidding orphanage. "The place you hate most in the world? That's worse than giving him up—"

"Temporarily," Tom stressed, looking annoyed by the entire conversation. "And before you ask the inevitable question, Clara, yes, I have accepted the fact I have a son who is the last remaining Gaunt descendant and who is now the Heir of Slytherin," he said, his lip curling making it clear how much he disliked the notion. "Whether or not I wished to have a child, what is done is done."

Black Manor had appeared over the crest of the hill, and Danielle kept her eyes fixed on its tallest turret as she forced the thought of Will in Vauxhall Orphanage out of her mind. She turned the subject instead to a question that had been spinning around her brain since the duel.

"What did you mean," she asked curiously, "When you were taunting Schefflur about his wife? It was enough to make him snap—"

"I have been doing research on him since I discovered his identity," said Tom, the self-importance beginning to creep back into his voice. "While he was still a professor in Germany, he was married for a brief time before his wife left him for another man. I suspect it was probably that incident that led him to seek revenge—he killed both her and her new husband—and throw himself into his work."

Danielle was silent for a moment; she hated feeling sorry for Schefflur. "Love makes you weak," she mumbled after a while, expecting Tom to agree.

But he didn't respond right away—it took a surprising amount of time before he said, "You do not truly believe that," in a slightly amused tone. Danielle looked quizzically at him, but he didn't elaborate.

Alphard and Alyssa were still sitting outside when Danielle stepped into their back garden. Will was crawling around the patio, chasing their very unimpressed, yowling cat as he tried to grab its tail. Danielle scooped him up right away, pressing her lips to the side of his head and breathing in his comforting scent. Will reluctantly turned his attention to her, grabbing one of her curls in his chubby little hand and laughing when she winced in pain.

"You've been gone for barely an hour!" Alyssa exclaimed, pushing herself up from her chair and wobbling over to them. Tom, of course, smoothly stepped aside and pretended to be admiring the garden.

"It feels like it's been a bit longer than that," muttered Danielle. She felt a stab of guilt as she stared at her friends' expectant faces, knowing that she owed them an explanation, but she had no idea how to begin, no idea how to predict their reactions even if she only told them part of the truth. "We were just…tied up."

"Tied up how?" Alphard asked inquisitively but kindly.

"Er, um…" Danielle looked over at Tom for help, but he was studiously ignoring them. "Birthday surprise," she lied. "It's a bit late…"

Alyssa's face hardened. "You don't need to lie to us, Clara," she said, and flounced back inside the house. Alphard gave them an apologetic smile before going to calm his wife.

Danielle gazed mournfully down at the squirming baby in her arms before turning back to Tom, feeling more alone than ever.