A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy!

For the disclaimer, please see the prologue.

Chapter Fourteen: February 3, 1943

"Now, Siobhan, how is your dear father doing? I didn't manage to see him last time I was at the Ministry," Slughorn leaned over his pudding to talk to the Hufflepuff. "Has he mentioned me lately?"

Siobhan didn't look like she knew quite how to answer that question in a way that wouldn't upset the professor. Upon seeing the look on the girl's face, Michael whispered quietly in Minerva's ear.

"Does he always act like this?"

"Always," Minerva laughed. Michael, Aidan's roommate, had been invited to join the Slug Club at the annual Christmas party, much like Minerva all those years ago. This was his first official sit-down event, and he was clearly nervous. "You'll get used to it, trust me."

"I hope he doesn't ask me anything about my parents," Michael muttered. "You know, seeing as one's dead and the other is a Muggle."

Despite herself, Minerva snorted. She took a sip of her pumpkin juice to clear her throat. "Just because I want to see the look on his face, I hope he does ask you."

She looked up and caught Riddle's eye. He raised a questioning eyebrow at her, and she lifted her shoulders demurely. Riddle rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Slughorn. Since that day in the bathroom, he had blessedly left her alone. She heard that he was casually seeing Madria Bode, and Minerva hoped that he had taken her words to heart.

"Professor," Riddle began, "what can you tell us about soul bonds?" He looked at Minerva, smiling knowingly.

Maybe he hadn't, then.

"Oh, Tom, my dear boy! What in heaven's name has you wanting to learn about soul bonds?" Slughorn chuckled jovially. "Anyone special you've got your eye on?"

"Perhaps," Tom said coyly.

"Oof, I feel bad for Bode," Michael shook his head. "Riddle would be a crazy one to date."

"Says the boy who tried to date Parvati Lupin," Minerva smirked, remembering their many, many fights.

"Well," Michael winced, running his fingers through his hair, "live and learn."

Slughorn interjected across their side conversation. "What about you, Minerva? Do you happen to know anything about soul bonds?"

Minerva blushed. "Unfortunately not, Professor."

"It's very advanced, ancient magic, Minerva, so I wouldn't worry about not knowing. Soul bonds are, well, just like they sound. They bond two souls together so that they are inextricably linked," Slughorn explained. "Only the most powerful of souls can bond together, and it's not usually by choice."

"You have no say in the matter?" Siobhan asked, horrified. "You can just wind up bound to someone because your souls decided to be friends?"

"No, it's a bit more complicated than that," Slughorn admitted, reddening slightly. "I'd go into the gory details, but we have a few second- and third-years here, and it wouldn't do to upset them, mhhm?" He looked pointedly at some of the younger students who were looking at him with confused faces. "This does give me an idea, though..."

"Should we be going, Professor?" Fiona, a second-year Hufflepuff, stood up. "It's getting late anyway."

"Oh, right, you are Fiona! Can't have you caught by a Prefect for being out past curfew," Slughorn winked at both Minerva and Tom. "Out you go, everyone! Thank you for the wonderful evening."

Minerva rose, gathering her things when she felt Michael tense beside her. "What is it, Michael?"

"Riddle's coming this way," he sneered, waiting for the Slytherin to reach them. "What do you need, Riddle?"

Riddle raised his hand in defence. "I'm only here to ask if Minerva would be so kind as to take over my patrol for the evening. I need to talk to Professor Slughorn. I'll take your patrol Friday in return."

Minerva sighed, "No, it's alright. I'll just take yours tonight, and then if I ever need to call in the favour, I will."

"Thanks, Minerva." Riddle walked off to his bag, and she saw him pull out the diary he had once tried to give her. It was clearly well-loved, sticky notes noticeably covering the pages.

"That was nice of you," Michael commented.

"We all need help sometimes," Minerva said tightly. "Besides, I'm sure there'll be a night that I'll need off at some point. Could come in handy."

They were the last to leave. Minerva followed Michael out the door, hesitating before she closed it. She heard Riddle say, "I was in the library earlier," and figuring that couldn't be too harmful, she followed Michael down the hall.

To their horror, Minerva and Michael discovered just what Slughorn's idea was in class the next morning.

"Who can tell me what Amortentia is?" Slughorn asked his sixth-year Potions class. "Does anyone know what it does?"

Minerva raised her hand. "It's a love potion, Professor. It mimics the feelings of love and causes the drinker to be infatuated with the brewer for however long they ingest it. The strength of the mimicked feelings depends on the strength of the brew. Some will feel only longing, and some will think, well, that they are in love with the brewer."

"Absolutely, yes, five points to Gryffindor," Slughorn smiled. "It also takes on the smell of love. All of you could come here and smell the cauldron that I have brewed, but none of you would smell the same thing. It's tailored to each individual's make-up and preferences."

"I reckon that's bloody dangerous," Aidan snorted in her ear. "Especially the way that lot keeps eyeing it."

Minerva looked over and saw that a not insignificant number of their classmates seemed to be drooling over the cauldron. "I swear to Merlin, if students get their hands on this and I have to deal with the side-effects in the corridors after hours, I will go to Dumbledore and personally ask him to sack our Potions professor. Honestly, this is ridiculous," she nodded towards Esme Wood and, to her horror, Rowena, who were both sniffing the potion.

"I'm glad I've got a girl, crikey," Aidan shook his head. "Hopefully, people know better than to try and sneak me a love potion. I worry about the two of you, though!"

Aidan's grin was directed at both Minerva and Michael, who groaned. "Don't even say it, man. You'll bloody jinx it."

"Aidan," Minerva warned. She was far more attuned to Aidan's pranking streak than Michael was. "If you even think about drugging me with a love potion, I will rip you apart limb from limb, and then hand those limbs over to the Merfolk in the lake. Have I made myself clear?"

"Quite," swallowed Aidan.

"Everyone, listen up!" Slughorn demanded their attention once more. "I had an interesting discussion last night with some of your colleagues, and soul-bonds were a discussion point. While somewhat similar to our special love potion, soul-bonds are a complex piece of magic that is not fully understood. For your homework, please write three feet comparing Amortentia and the soul-bond. Due Monday."

"Professor, soul-bonds aren't mentioned in the textbook," Rowena frowned, "nor do I remember seeing any book on such a topic in the library. How do you expect us to conduct the research?"

"There are some books in the restricted section," Slughorn pronounced, giving each student a permission slip. "Use it well."

They were dismissed, and the boys groaned. "I have no time for an extra three feet of parchment this weekend," Aidan grumbled. "Particularly when I'll have to go spend time in the bloody library."

"Won't this, I don't know, just encourage people to brew the stupid potion?" Michael asked. "Why would a professor want students running around, drugged out of their minds and horny as hell?"

"It hardly seems relevant," Minerva pursed her lips. "I mean really, who nowadays would go around initiating some sort of soul-bond? It's an archaic, pure-blooded tradition."

"Really?" Aidan asked. "If you know this much, can you write my paper?"

"No," Minerva laughed ruefully, "no, because I actually have no idea what the hell a soul-bond is, or how you create one."

"That's why you don't want to write about it," Michael teased. "For once you don't know what you're talking about."

The three laughed and headed towards the library, praying that the books would be straightforward.

Thank Merlin it was Thursday, Minerva sighed inwardly as she ran to Albus' office. Their search in the library had proved futile, and now they didn't know where to start on their paper. She hoped that Albus might be able to provide her with some insight as to what they could write about. Even though their Animagus lessons had ended, they had continued meeting Thursday nights, just as they had the previous term. Minerva still marked, and Albus still caught up on various professorial duties, but the pair spent a great deal more time talking about different theories, life at Hogwarts, and the state of the world.

Albus smiled at her as she entered his office and closed the door. "How was your day, Minerva?"

She sat down in her usual chair, groaning as she relaxed for the first time in hours. "It was frustrating. Yours?"

"Mine wasn't much better. My third-year Ravenclaw and Slytherin class attempted to transfigure each other. I took far more house points than I would care to admit," Albus told her, handing her a cup of tea.

Minerva grinned as she took it. After they had come to their truce on Christmas, she had informed him that it was indeed poor manners to ask someone over and not serve them tea. She had been served tea every Thursday since.

"Why was yours frustrating, Minerva?" Albus dropped four sugar cubes into his tea, and she grimaced, imagining the sweetness. "What happened?"

Minerva laughed humourlessly. "We had Potions, and Professor Slughorn was in rare form. You'll never guess the ridiculous topic for our latest essay."

"Isn't Valentine's Day coming up?" Albus paused, considering. "Horace normally likes to go over Amortentia with his sixth-years right about now. He thinks it livens up his students."

"He makes this a regular occurrence?" Minerva asked, aghast. "I thought it was just because Riddle asked him about soul-bonds!"

"Mr. Riddle asked Horace about what?"

Minerva sighed, quickly explaining to Albus what had happened the night before. "So, Riddle got it in Professor Slughorn's head that we weren't aware of the magic creating soul-bonds. Today, in what I surmise is his usual lesson on Amortentia, he decided to assign us this essay comparing the two. Problem is, we can't find any resources on soul-bonds anywhere. Not even in the restricted section. It's maddening. Do you have any leads?"

"Well, you most certainly won't find any resources on the subject here at Hogwarts. The Headmaster confiscated all of them years ago," Albus informed her. "For good reason, too. There was a bit of an incident about ten years ago. Students were attempting to bond with one another for weeks. Took an entire investigation to sort through it. This is why, to be frank, I'm shocked Horace would suggest such an assignment."

"What's so damaging about creating a soul-bond that you had to confiscate all of the literature about it?" Minerva wondered. "Sure, the name itself implies a certain permanence, but it obviously doesn't involve killing one another."

"No," Albus snorted despite himself, "it doesn't involve murder."

"Then what-"

"We had quite a lot of pregnancies that year, and many parents were rightfully upset. That's why females are allowed to enter the male dormitories, but not the other way around." Albus rubbed his eyes, remembering the number of angry owls he had played host to that year. "The correspondence that year was unmanageable."

Minerva's mouth hung slightly open. "Isn't that sexist? I can still go into Aidan's room whenever."

Albus' eyebrow quirked at that implication. "The Board is all-male, Minerva. They wanted a solution where men could still, well, seek their pleasure was the term used, I believe. They thought that if there were fewer beds, it would decrease the number of students with child scandalously leaving in the middle of the night."

"Fewer beds? Albus, that's the most idiotic thing I've ever heard. We're in a castle with wands and plenty of hidden rooms, for Merlin's sake."

"I said the Board was all men, not intelligent. Often, I find that being male makes them all the dumber." He had intended to make her laugh, and he was rewarded.

"Can you tell me about soul-bonds, Albus?" Minerva asked, hopefully. "It's for academic purposes, after all."

"I believe you're smart enough to make inferences from the story I told you just now," Albus commented idly.

"Yes, I understand that," Minerva rolled her eyes impatiently. "But what's the magic behind it? Why do some people bond, and most others don't?"

"It's a very rare joining of magical cores, Minerva. It's ancient magic. Some would even argue it's a legend as there hasn't been a known case in decades. Although," Albus conceded, "it is entirely possible that if it had happened, it wouldn't be public knowledge."

"How exactly do the cores join? I've got a full three feet to write here, Albus. You can't skimp on the details," Minerva implored.

Albus shook his head. "No one knows. It is theorized that the two people involved need to have powerful magical cores as individuals as it takes quite a bit of magic to create the bond. The couple in question," he hesitated, and Minerva narrowed her eyes, silently cueing him to continue, "need to be intimate to create the bond. On infrequent occasions, the bonding will occur the first time. Normally, however, it is said to take four to six."

"So, if you don't bond after five times, do you just give up and move on to the next person?" Minerva scoffed. "Is that why you had so many pregnancies to deal with?"

"I'd be inclined to support that argument," Albus tilted his head. "I should make it clear that bonding can occur between same-sex couples. We just had the problem of all of our students attempting to bond with anyone that it all became a little murky."

Minerva could imagine being Prefect during that year and thanked Merlin she hadn't been. "Why did they all want to be bonded? Does it make you extra powerful or something?"

"As much as you loathe to admit it, all anyone wants above all else is to feel loved," Albus said gently. "When you're soul-bonded with someone, you can access each other's thoughts. You can feel what they feel. You can pull on each other's magic. Your feelings for each other grow exponentially."

Minerva felt her cheeks heating. "Are you stuck with that person for life? I realize that that's a bit crass, but I just wonder if your magic can place you in a relationship that your brain -or for that matter, your heart- doesn't seem to be keen on."

Albus smiled. "No, you're not stuck with that person, romantically speaking. But you are forever bound. Meaning, for example, if you and Mr. Scrimgeour were soul-bound but decided to no longer see each other romantically, you could still feel each other's feelings and thoughts. You'd need to learn how to dull the bond, as opposed to heightening it."

"Ah," Minerva mused. "So basically, you sleep with someone multiple times and presumably, something happens to let you know that you're bonded, and then you're saddled with someone for the rest of your life."

"Not everyone would view it as 'being saddled,' Minerva," Albus chuckled, amused. "Now that we've satisfied your curiosity, though, I do believe it best if I ask Horace to change the parameters of this essay. There's no chance the rest of your classmates will all get this information. Besides, Armando would lose his mind if he knew that this was assigned as homework."

"Thank you for indulging me, Albus," Minerva smiled, then frowned. "Wait! Didn't you mention during that Animagus lesson, you know, the one where everything went to shit, that transfiguring body parts had something to do with soul-bonds?"

Albus groaned, "I should have known you'd remember that. As I said, researchers don't know many, if any, soul-bonded people, so the sample size is non-existent; that's why there isn't any published research. There are, however, theories that suggest that those who are soul-bonded may have the ability to transfigure a body part to look like that of their soul-mate. Say, Mr. Scrimgeour could have your eyes or your hair, or," Albus's eyes twinkled madly, "your very large feet."

"Albus, that's not funny!" Minerva protested, and he laughed. She grumbled, "Basically, you can trade a physical feature forever. Interesting."

"Rather," Albus agreed. He was silent for a few moments and then frowned. "I don't like that Mr. Riddle asked Horace about this type of magic."

"Tell me you don't think that Riddle is going to attempt to create a soul-bond with someone," Minerva paused. "The look on his face when he asked the question was creepy, though. I'll give you that."

"Creepy? He looked at you while he asked?" Albus demanded, and Minerva could see where he was going.

"You're implying that he wants a soul-bond with me, Albus?" Minerva asked.

Albus stared, somewhat surprised that she had jumped to his conclusion. "We know he has a slight obsession where you're concerned, Minerva. I believe that he believes that you are powerful enough to be worthy of him, for him to want access to your powers. If his insistence is any indication, he probably thinks he can accomplish it."

It was Minerva's turn to stare. She eyed him thoughtfully, steeling herself for what she was about to say. "Albus, if you think I'm going to have sex with Riddle, you've gone barmy in your old age."

Albus choked on his tea. "Minerva, that's not what-"

"That's the gist, isn't it? To have a soul bond, you need to have sex with someone. At least once. Albus, I'm far more...discerning than that. Give me some credit."

Albus stared at his student, wondering how he had found himself in such an awkward position. "I do give you credit, Minerva. But Mr. Riddle is," he trailed off helplessly, "charming, shall we say."

"He was a good kisser," Minerva mused, not quite realizing she was talking aloud, "but I don't have any desire to pursue that sort of relationship with him."

"You kissed him?"

Minerva cursed herself for her own stupidity, but she wasn't about to go down without a fight. "Are you asking me about my love life, Albus?"

"Is there a love life with Mr. Riddle, then?" Albus bit out, his voice tightening.

"Would it bother you if there were?" Minerva challenged. She wasn't sure why she was goading him like this, but it sent a thrill down her spine. He stared silently at her, and it lasted long enough to make her uncomfortable. "Albus, I-"

"It does bother me."

His words were quiet and firm, and something about his voice made Minerva's heart stop. "What?"

"It does bother me, Minerva," Albus sighed. "You and I have spoken numerous times about how it's not a good idea to talk to him, let alone court him."

She absorbed his words and felt an unfamiliar disappointment as her heart sank, almost as though she had hoped he would say something else. Shaking it off, Minerva explained, "I'm not courting him. There was a kiss the night of the debacle, and that was it."

"What, pray tell, is the debacle?" Albus inquired.

"Oh," Minerva snorted, "that's what I call the night when we screamed at each other, and you kicked me out and basically told me to transform or die trying."

"I don't remember being that explicitly malicious, Minerva," Albus rolled his eyes. "Alright, then, so the debacle happened, and then what?"

"Albus, do you really need to know this? We need to have some boundaries."

"I could just invade your mind again. That would do the trick," Albus sparred.

"I think you'd find yourself kicked back into yours, like last time," Minerva dared, really hoping he wouldn't see the memory. She didn't need the embarrassment of him watching Riddle's tongue be sliced open by the hidden Mandrake leaf.

"Touché," Albus conceded. "Is that when your arm started to hurt?"

"Well, funny enough, it didn't hurt until he talked to me after we kissed," Minerva remembered. "It was fine during, but not after."

"What did you feel right before it started to hurt, Minerva?" he leaned over the desk, crossing his arms.

Minerva considered it for a moment. "I think he looked at me strangely. He went from being extremely nice and kind to almost possessive. It didn't hurt at the Slug Club dinner last night, either," she added.

"Minerva, if I were forced to make a wager, I would bet that your arm hurts only when you perceive him to be a danger to you. It functions much like a honing device, or a Summoning charm, albeit one that has gone very, very awry. It explains the boggart situation, as well; it perhaps makes more sense than my original explanation. Your brain perceived you to be in danger, and your body reacted accordingly," Albus paused. "As we've discussed, it's accidental magic, so I cannot give you an exact answer. It's the best my brain has to offer, though, for what it's worth."

"Well, your brain is usually correct," Minerva said, laughing. "Thank you for thinking about it, Albus. I appreciate you taking the time to wonder why."

"I profess to be a fan of mysteries, Minerva," Albus told her, his eyes sparkling, "but I prefer them when they're solved."

She smiled back at him, and sipped her tea. "As do I, Albus. As do I."