Chapter Seventeen

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Professor Merrythought.

Minerva and Tom squared off, wands in the air, bodies tensed for combat. For a few seconds nothing happened; each appeared to be waiting for the other to make the first move. Then Tom extended his wand and cast a Petrificus Totalus. Minerva crouched below the curse, which flew just over her head, and cast.

"Glisseo!" she shouted, pointing her wand at the mat just under her opponent's feet. Tom lost his footing on the suddenly slick floor and hit the ground, landing ungracefully on his arse. He managed to block the disarming hex she shot next, and ended the Slipping Charm a moment later.

He rose, angry at the indignity of having been knocked off his feet in the first minute. He shot a Stinging Hex at Minerva, which caught her left thigh as she dodged. It immediately felt to her as if a thousand little pinpricks of fire were dancing on the skin of her leg. She had to take the time to cast a Finite, and in that moment, Tom was able to land his Petrificus Totalus.

The spectators gasped, thinking it was the end of the bout, but Minerva put her prodigious powers of concentration to work at once; it only took her three seconds to cast a wordless, wandless Finite and release herself from the charm. She stayed still, however, hoping to fool her opponent into thinking she was still Petrified so she could catch him off-guard with a Disarming spell.

Tom was approaching Minerva, intending to disarm her by hand and end the match...a time-honoured coup de grâce that would earn the duellist admiration for style...when he noticed her eyes move.

He was about three feet away from her when her eyes shifted slightly to look into his. What she saw frightened her. She had seen his predatory look before, during previous duels and practice bouts, but this was different; he looked . . . carnivorous. In the past, she had sensed that he wanted to curse her during those moments when their eyes met during a duel; this time, she was certain that what he really wanted was to devour her.

She made a slight movement, attempting to raise her wand, and suddenly felt an intense pressure inside her head, as if something was attempting to penetrate her skull. It broke through the membrane of her defence with a searing heat. Images and sounds came tumbling through her consciousness against her will: her father, weeping as he told her that her mother had died; her eleven-year-old self watching in joyous fascination as a bouquet of red and white camellias sprouted from the end of her wand as Mr Ollivander and her father stood by, beaming; Professor Dumbledore, smiling down at her after she had Transfigured her first needle into a pincushion; Albus kissing her on the settee in his sitting room; Albus again, moving on top of her in the large four-poster bed, making love to her for the first time . . .

She tried desperately to push the unwelcome presence from her mind, but it kept battering at her mercilessly, probing further and further, bruising the walls of her consciousness. As if from far away, she heard a voice shouting, "Finite!" and suddenly, the intruder was gone.

It was Albus who had realised what was happening. When Minerva had been Petrified, the spectators seemed to hold their breath as one, waiting for her either to end the enchantment with a wordless spell or for Tom Riddle to disarm her. When he stopped a few paces from her and nothing more appeared to happen, a confused murmur arose from the crowd. What was going on?

Professor Merrythought and Master Flitwick circled the pair closely, trying to determine if something illegal was happening, but it was impossible to tell. The duellists seemed only to have locked eyes.

When Minerva started to tremble, and the sweat started to bead on her forehead, it came to Albus with a shock that Riddle was using Legilimency on her. He had seen the reaction before, during the few times he had used it himself on a resistant subject.

"Galatea, end the bout," he urged Professor Merrythought. When she didn't react, he barked, "End it! Now!" His tone prompted her to action, and she pointed her wand at the pair, calling the Finite.

When she felt Tom withdraw from her mind, Minerva fell to her knees. She was disoriented and shivering uncontrollably. She felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, and when her eyes were able to focus again, she saw the worried face of her Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher looking at her.

"Miss McGonagall, are you all right?" asked Professor Merrythought. Minerva nodded and got slowly to her feet with the aid of her professor's hand. "What happened?" asked Merrythought.

"I . . . I don't know," lied Minerva.

It had taken all of Albus's willpower not to rush to her, but he knew he would need to intercept Madam Claymore, who was about to interrogate Tom, before he could see to Minerva.

Riddle was still standing at the end of the piste, talking quietly with Filius Flitwick. Professor Dumbledore arrived at the same time as Madam Claymore.

"What was the spell you used, young man?" enquired Claymore accusingly.

"Madam Claymore," Dumbledore interrupted, "I suspect the mishap we just witnessed was an unfortunate accident rather than any misbehaviour on Mr Riddle's part."

"That remains to be seen, Professor," retorted Claymore.

"Perhaps. But as Deputy Headmaster of this school, I think it is incumbent upon me to get Mr Riddle's side of the story before he is subjected to a Ministry interrogation," Dumbledore replied calmly.

"I must agree with Professor Dumbledore," said Flitwick. "Mr Riddle appears to be just as confused as we are about the incident, and I think a calm discussion with Professor Dumbledore would be more likely to yield an answer than an interrogation."

Albus shot his friend a look of gratitude.

Madam Claymore was about to remonstrate when Headmaster Dippet joined the trio.

"What's happening?" he enquired of his Deputy. "Is Miss McGonagall injured?"

"No, I believe not," replied Albus. "Filius and I were just asking Madam Claymore to postpone her questioning until I can speak with Mr Riddle privately. The boy should be allowed to tell his side of things to someone who can advise him of his own best interests."

"Quite right," agreed Dippet.

Faced with the opposition of the three wizards, Claymore acquiesced. "Very well. I will expect to speak with you and Mr Riddle as soon as you have finished," she said to Albus and stalked off.

"Mr Riddle, you will please wait for me in my office," said Dumbledore in a voice that suggested Tom say nothing and obey. Riddle paused a moment, then turned and left without a word.

Minerva was sitting in a chair at the side of the piste with Professor Merrythought when Professor Dumbledore came to her. "Galatea, thank you for seeing to Miss McGonagall. I think she could benefit from a strong cup of tea in the infirmary. I'm sure she will be quite all right, won't you, my dear?"

"Yes, thank you, Professor," said Minerva, trying to catch his eye.

"I'm just going to speak with Mr Riddle. He seems as unsure of what happened as you are, Miss McGonagall," he said, looking at her meaningfully. Turning to Professor Merrythought, he said, "Perhaps you could escort Miss McGonagall to the infirmary?"

"Of course," replied Merrythought.

Tom was waiting outside Professor Dumbledore's office wearing an air of total calm.

"Please come in," said Albus as he opened the door with a quick spell. When they stepped inside, he said, "Do sit down, Mr Riddle."

"Thank you, sir, I prefer to stand," answered Tom with a smirk.

"I believe I invited you to sit down," hissed Dumbledore. Tom found himself quite suddenly, and without any will of his own, seated in the chair across from the professor's desk.

"How did you learn Legilimency?" Dumbledore asked the boy, calm once again.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Don't insult me, Tom. I've been practicing Legilmency since before your parents were born; I recognise it when I see it. Now, how did you learn it?"

"Books," said Tom, regarding his professor warily.

"Just books? I find that hard to believe, Tom."

The boy just shrugged.

"Very well. Where did you get these books?" asked Dumbledore, feigning patience.

"The library. A few from shops in Knockturn Alley."

"You must have practiced."

"Yes. It took a few years, but I finally mastered it," said Tom with a hint of pride.

"And on whom did you practice?"

"Children at the orphanage, during summers."

"Easy prey. But then you've always found it so, haven't you, Tom?"

"Easier than Minerva," said Tom, smiling to himself.

Albus's willpower was tested for the second time that day as he prevented himself from cursing the smug little prick into the next world.

"I would leave Minerva out of it if I were you," he said with deadly calm.

Tom smiled. "I saw you," he said, looking at the older man defiantly.

Dumbledore said nothing.

"You were . . . well, let's just say you were teaching her something that's not on the Hogwarts curriculum," Tom said with a rough laugh.

"I see," said Dumbledore quietly.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"No, it is not. I would strongly suggest, Tom, that you keep anything you may have seen in Minerva's mind to yourself."

"I'm sure that would be very convenient for you."

"I am not finished!" barked Dumbledore. He continued more calmly: "You may believe you have the upper hand, but have you forgotten that it is illegal to use Legilimency without prior permission from the Wizengamot? Or that being an unregistered Legilimens is automatically punishable by five years in Azkaban? Is it worth it? You'd better be certain it is, because I assure you that I will use everything in my not-inconsiderable power to ensure you rot on that godforsaken rock if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone."

"You think..."

"Shut up!" roared Dumbledore, and Tom's chair was propelled backward several feet.

Dumbledore's voice was suddenly low and very dangerous as he approached the young man and leant down close to his face, brandishing his wand. "I could simply Obliviate you right now, and nobody would be the wiser, but I'm not especially good at it, and I might just slip and obliterate more of that extraordinary mind than I intend to. And while I would shed no tears over the loss, quite frankly, it wouldn't be especially satisfying just to leave you as a blot of mindless gelatine."

He lowered his wand but leant even closer to Riddle's face, putting his hands on either arm of the chair.

"So listen to me well, Tom Riddle: If you ever try to harm Minerva again, I swear you will regret the day you ever heard of magic. You think you know the Dark Arts? Well, think again. I know spells that would have you soiling your drawers for days if you even heard me whisper them. I know more Dark Magic than is contained in all the books in that cesspit they call Knockturn Alley, more than in all the Knockturn Alleys of all the cities of the world, and it would give me great pleasure to revisit some of my more obscure skills with you, Riddle.

"You will not go near Minerva again, and you will not say anything about what you saw today. Do not test me on this, boy. Do not."

Riddle had paled, but he kept his gaze steady on his professor.

Dumbledore stepped away and looked at Riddle, saying calmly, "When we leave this room, you will say nothing about Legilimency or what you saw. We will tell everyone you attempted a Confundus Charm at the same time Minerva did and that it locked you together for a minute. That should satisfy the observer enough to keep you out of the Ministry interrogation room, provided you play along."

He gave an unpleasant smile, asking, "Now. Do we have an understanding?"

Riddle looked at the powerful wizard appraisingly for a moment before responding coldly, "Yes. We do."

"Good. Now get out of my sight."

Tom forced himself to move slowly and deliberately. He rose from the chair and walked out the door without shutting it behind him.

When he was gone, Albus let out a breath and went to find Madam Claymore, hoping he had done more than just scotched the snake.

/***/

When Albus went to the infirmary, he found Minerva sitting with Alastor Moody, sipping a cup of tea under the watchful and disapproving eye of Madam Soranus.

Moody stood up when he saw Albus enter the room.

"Hello, Mr Moody," said Albus. "Keeping our Miss McGonagall company?"

"Yes, sir," answered Moody. "Thought I'd lend a little moral support."

"Good lad. Minerva, my dear, how are you feeling?" the professor asked.

"Fine now, thank you, sir," she answered.

"Good. Now, if you will excuse us, Mr Moody, I have some things to discuss with Miss McGonagall," Albus said.

"Certainly, sir. Minerva, I'll see you at dinner, then?" asked Alastor.

She nodded assent, and Moody left with the usual spring in his step.

"Alfidia, if you are willing to release Miss McGonagall now, we can both be out of your hair," Albus said with a smile at the dour matron.

"Go on, then," said the mediwitch. "There's nothing wrong with her as far as I can tell."

"Thank you, Madam Soranus," said Minerva. The matron nodded curtly.

Albus took her to his office, then locked and warded the door.

She immediately fell into his arms, saying, "I'm so sorry, Albus! I couldn't stop him . . . I didn't know . . ."

"It's all right, my dear; it wasn't your fault," he soothed, kissing the top of her head.

"But he saw us. In my memory . . . He knows . . ."

"I know. It's all right. I've taken care of it."

She pulled away to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I spoke with Tom and ensured that he won't say anything. Nor will he bother you again," said Albus.

"But how?"

"I simply reminded him of the penalties for unregistered and unauthorised Legilimency," Albus replied, not wanting to tell her the entire truth of his conversation with Riddle. "I doubt he'll want to risk a few years in Azkaban just to harm you or me."

"I don't know . . ."

"Trust me, my love. He will say nothing."

Minerva sensed there was more to the story than Albus was sharing with her, but she didn't press him.

"Are you certain you are all right?" he asked, drawing her to a chair and motioning her to sit, taking the chair next to her. "Legilimency can be quite an unpleasant experience for an unwilling subject."

"It was horrible," she said, her voice shaking. "He was inside my head, and there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to shut him out, but it was so painful...like a physical sensation. I feel like I want to Scourgify my mind."

"Yes, I remember the feeling well from my training."

"I don't know how you could study a spell like that," said Minerva. "It's so awful."

"It can be used for good, in the right hands. If you train as an Auror, you may be asked to learn it. You will certainly be required to learn its counterpart, Occlumency."

"Occlumency, yes, but I will never use Legilimency on anyone, no matter what the cause."

Albus kissed her and said, "I hope you never have to, my dear. It isn't a pleasant experience for anyone involved when it is used on a hostile subject."

"Have you ever used it against someone's will?"

"On a handful of occasions, when the Wizengamot authorised it. I hope never to have to do so again," Changing the subject, he said, "We need to discuss what we are going to tell Madam Claymore and the others about what happened today."

"Gods, I had forgotten!"

Albus told her, "Tom has already had his interview. On my instructions, he told them that he attempted to cast a Confundus Charm and found himself locked with you for a few moments until Professor Merrythought ended the spell. You will say that you cast a wordless Confundus at the same time, which resulted in the effect everyone witnessed."

"Will they believe it?" she asked.

"Oh, I think so. I am the only person here trained in Legilimency, so I was, I believe, the only person to recognise it as such."

"You are brilliant," she said, kissing him, feeling far better about things than she had an hour ago.

"We'd better go see Madam Claymore," said Albus, breaking the kiss. "And you don't want to be late for your dinner date with young Mr Moody," he added.

"Dinner date? Oh, you mean Alastor. He's really a friend of Einar's." She added, "He spent a week with us in Caithness last summer."

"He seems to be quite smitten with you. Not that I can blame him, of course."

"I don't think so. He's a terrible flirt, but he's like that with all the girls," she said dismissively. "In any case, he's only fourteen."

"I see. Not nearly old enough for a woman of the world such as yourself."

"Oh, stop it," she said, hitting him playfully on the arm, "or I shan't kiss you for a week."

"Oh, really? Well, then, I should take my fill now." He pulled her close and kissed her soundly.

At that moment, near the dawn of their relationship, Minerva felt that he could do anything...protect her from anything. She knew, even then, that it was a childish notion, but she couldn't help it. She was blinded by the strength of her feeling for him, and for that thrilling moment in time, it was enough.