"Wormtail."
Pettigrew scurried across the room and sank to his knees in supplication.
"Yes, master? How may I serve you, my lord?" Along with two robed Death Eater guards, they occupied Voldemort's royal quarters in the ancient castle that he called home. A fire burned low in the hearth, casting shadows on the dilapidated remains of paintings and tapestries. The furniture, scoured from rooms to decrepit for use, was dark, heavy, and ornate. A cauldron bubbled with a foul-smelling brown liquid in the corner.
Voldemort reveled in the fear behind Wormtail's pleading.
"I believe we have placed too much trust in the dark sorceress. She rapidly approaches the time when the spells will fail, and she has been unable to fulfill any of my objectives. We must take steps to ensure her destruction."
"A-anything, my lord. What would you have me do?" Wormtail's words faltered, revealing his fear of her. His master's red eyes showed no hint of his amusement.
"We have some time yet. I wish to first eliminate that meddlesome auror and his red-haired witch. Lovely word, meddlesome, don't you think?" Pettigrew nodded vigorously. "They have greatly disrupted our plans, and I believe they wish to restore Precious to their side. This we must not allow."
"I thought…" He trailed off as the red orbs focused on him. Voldemort motioned for him to continue. "I thought you wished to turn the other witch, master."
"I did, but the episode we are currently enduring has convinced me that it will be easier to simply destroy them both. Send two of the Hunters."
"Th-the H-H-Hunters, my lord?" Wormtail's stomach spun with frightened nausea. "Are you certain?"
"Yes," Voldemort said, an eerie grin creasing his skull-like visage. "I think they are most appropriate, don't you agree?"
"O-of course, my lord. Of course."
"I wish for you to contact Malfoy as well. Tell him the time has come to rid ourselves of that problem at the Ministry. He will understand."
"Yes, my lord."
"And after that, we shall take good care of Precious."
Tara followed Willow back to her dorm after the evening meal. She could tell that her friend needed some girl time.
"So when did he say they wanted to have dinner?"
"Tomorrow night. His parents are nice, especially his mom. Grey said she can be scary with the authority, but she just seemed sweet to me."
"Are you nervous about it?" Willow gave the password to the English lady, and they collapsed on the comfy cushions that dotted her floor.
"Not really. I met them before, and they seemed to like me."
"Of course they did, honey. You're the nice Jewish girl, right?" They smiled. "S-something's got you nervous, though," Tara said.
"How'd you know? Do you think he noticed?"
"I could see it in the way you always have your hands bunched up lately. And no, I don't think he did."
"Good. I'm not always the best with the secret-keeping or the tension-hiding, you know?"
"I know. Do … do you want to talk about it?" Their restarted friendship had gone well since Tara's return, but they had pointedly avoided any serious romantic talks about Willow and Grey.
"Do you mind? I kind of do, but if it'll make you unhappy or upset, I don't want that. I mean, it's not that big of a deal, and I'm probably being stupid anyway, and it doesn't…"
"Will." Tara interrupted the babble before it got out of hand. "I want to be able to talk about everything with you. I-I don't want you to feel like you have to hold back. That would hurt me more." Willow nodded, inhaled deeply, and explained.
"It's just … everything's the same, but different. I'm really afraid, y'know? Our whole relationship started because he let her go. Okay, granted he could let her go because she went all Morgan Le Fay on him, but now it's more of a Patty Hearst kind of deal. If we pull this off, she comes back just like she was, probably with no strings attached."
"Y-you think he'll leave you for her?"
"He says he won't, but he almost did when she was evil. I know I'm being majorly possessive and that I'm a capable, independent woman who should function on her own with no problem, and I trust him a whole heckuva lot … but I don't want him to go."
"I understand, sweetie. Have you talked to him about it?"
Willow folded her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Sort of. Not the easiest thing to bring up – hey, how's it going, are you going to climb out of my bed and into hers anytime soon? Not so much the road I want to go down."
"I know, Willow, but you can't let the anxiety overwhelm you. It will ruin the time you do have with him and make you miserable."
"I just can't hold it in check. And my last magic lesson? Everything nearly went kablooie because my emotions are all wonky." Seeing Tara's face, she quickly clarified. "Not dark magic wonky. I just couldn't make the spells work right. Instead of a fireball, I got a snowball. That kind of thing." Tara visibly relaxed.
"This is a conversation you need to have with him. I don't think you need to worry, but I see why you are. Hearing him say it will make you less nervous."
"You don't think I need to worry?"
"Y-you can't see it," she said, thinking of Grey's eyes on Willow. "When you aren't looking … the way he watches you … it's like he's afraid you'll vanish, so he has to memorize everything before you do." Tara remembered giving Willow the same look and knew she didn't have the right words to explain it to her. "Have you told him you love him?"
"No," the redhead said, her throat constricting. "I don't want to pressure him, especially now. If he wants out … I don't want him to stay because I trapped him into it. I think I need to wait and see what happens before I tell him that."
"I-if you think that's best, that's what you should do."
"You don't?" Tara shook her head.
"No. I-I think if you love him and you're afraid, you need to be more honest, not less. Hiding this won't make it go away."
"I know that. But it's …" she trailed off, trying to express herself correctly. She needed Tara to understand. "I want to be honest. He knows I care about him, and I know he cares about me. So that's of the good. He even told me that if he thought he might go back, he would never have been with me in the first place. That should be enough. I mean, he flat out said it, right?"
"So what's the problem?" Tara said. "Do you th-think he's lying?"
"No!" Alarmed, Willow looked at her friend carefully. "Do … do you?"
Tara's hair fluttered across her face as her head moved from side to side.
"No, I don't. But what could he say that would convince you?"
Willow thought hard for a minute, then sighed. "I don't think anything. When you came back, he said that he thought that I wouldn't know, until you were here, who I wanted to be with. I think he might have been doing a little Freud on himself and projecting."
"Without knowing it?"
"Uh-huh."
"A-agreed," Tara acknowledged. "I still think the best cure is honesty."
Willow shrugged sadly, a tear forming at the corner of her eye. She wished for more confidence. Then maybe she could confront him about this, and accept what came of it. She remembered the feeling well from her days of chasing Xander; she liked it less now than she had then. A lot less.
"Maybe," she said finally, "if I get the right moment I'll say something. Not outright, mind you, just sort of hint at it."
Tara nodded her agreement, knowing that would be the best her friend could do.