Minerva blinked her eyes as her room slowly came into focus. Albus sat across from her with a confused look on her face.
"You should remember more. You weren't knocked out then, yet you remember nothing else. But your memory hasn't been modified," his face morphed from confusion into concern and a touch of fear. "You were attacked, Minerva. By whom, I do not know, but they are powerful.
"But why go after me? I'm of no consequential value." Albus looked up in shock.
"Of no consequential value? Minerva, don't you see? You're my right hand, the person closest to me. Not only that, but you're the most powerful witch there is. That is why someone would want to attack you. What confuses me is how they got in Hogwarts, and why they did what they did." Albus took a deep breath after his tirade and leaned back in the couch.
The two sat in silence for some moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Minerva tried to remember what had happened beyond what she had seen, but it felt like moving against a brick wall. She yawned and leaned back in her chair, noticing Albus watching her carefully.
"You should get some rest. Either Severus or I will be back in the morning to check on you. But you must promise me you'll rest otherwise I'll send you straight back to Poppy." Minerva hung her head in submission, feeling like a scolded child.
"Of course, Albus….. And Albus?" He had risen to her door, but stopped at the repetition of his name.
"Yes, Minerva?"
"Thank you."
"You're welcome," and with that he was gone.
Minerva slowly stood up and made her way to her room. Her body still felt sore as she carefully stripped off the wrinkled gown Poppy had given her, her other robes being too ripped to cover much. She avoided looking in the mirror as she pulled on her nightgown, turned off the lights and crawled into bed. As she pulled the covers up over her arms, she felt a sense of dread settle into her stomach. Minerva tried to shake it away, but it refused to leave. Finally, pure deprivation of sleep pulled her under.
She awoke sometime later in a cold sweat, her sheets twisted around her. She was panting heavily, and the sense of dread had only increased. With a shaking hand, Minerva used her wand to light the candles and fireplace in her room. She looked around quickly and carefully to find it empty. Not feeling any better, she slid out of bed and checked her other rooms. They revealed nothing, and she returned to her bed, her wand hidden under her pillow.
Minerva felt herself hit the ground and her wand rolled away from her hand; dangerously close to the fire. She started to roll over to stand up, but a foot pressed into her back, pinning her to the ground.
"Hello Minerva," the voice was deep and seductive, acting like they didn't have a care in the world.
She shuddered and tried to roll over again, if only to see their face, but they pinned her harder to the ground. She began to squirm as she fought the panic rising in her chest. She knew most of the castle was asleep. She kicked against them, but they were out of her reach. She growled in frustration.
"What do you want?"
"Isn't it obvious, Minerva? I want you," the way her name rolled of their tongue raised goosebumps along her arms.
Minerva let out another growl that was louder and higher than her previous one. They paid her no attention, but merely kicked her until she rolled over. She glanced once at their face and uttered a cry so shrill the nearby glass cracked ever so slightly.
"Minerva! Minerva! MINERVA! Please, wake up!" The voice was desperate and pleading.
Minerva's eyes flew open and she found herself staring up into blurry black eyes. Her sore body was trembling, but he held her in a tight grip. He repeated her name until her tears stopped falling and she stopped trembling. But still he held her until she had enough control to utter one word.
"Riddle."