Perfect Woman (A Minerva/Salazar fic)

[dianahawthorne]

Perfect Woman

Chapter One: Phantom of Delight

A/N: Inspired by a plotbunny from PygmyPuff20 on FictionAlley. Also inspired by William Wordsworth's poem "Perfect Woman." All quotes are from his poem. I own neither the characters, nor the plotline, nor the poem. Please read and review.



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She was a phantom of delight


When she first gleam’d upon my sight


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Goddamn Slughorn, Minerva McGonagall thought exasperatedly, why the bloody hell did he have to give everyone a pass to the Restricted Section? Of course they were all going to check out the only decent copy of Moste Potente Potions. Is he just stupid? Minerva shook her head, annoyed that she was even asking that question in her thoughts. Of course he is! Why else would he name his stupid “group” the “Slug Club”?

She tripped over an uneven stone paving the floor of the Restricted Section. The sound of her body and her books hitting the floor hard echoed loudly through the empty library. It was late – past curfew, to be exact – but, as Head Girl, she was allowed to roam the hallways after-hours. She had yet to procure a copy of Moste Potente Potions for her Potions project, due on Wednesday, so that was why she was in the library this late.

Gathering up her diary, the few Potions texts she had found, and her notes, she noticed a strange book shelved near the floor. Its spine seemed to shimmer with different colours, almost like the Lake when the sun hits it a certain way. Putting her things aside, she knelt down on her knees, which were sore from hitting the stone floor, and peered at the silver title engraved on the spine of the ancient manuscript. The letters were too faded by time to read, so she gently extricated the book from its tightly packed shelf. The letters on the cover of the book were no easier to read, so she gently turned to the first page of the book, hoping that the title would be written there.

No sooner had she turned the page then a wind picked up – or, at least it seemed like a wind. The pages of the book remained unmoving, although Minerva could feel her braid come loose and her hair whip around her face. Everything seemed to be spinning, and Minerva saw the page of the book grow larger – or was she growing smaller? – as she was sucked into the book. It closed with a thump and re-shelved itself. The only remaining sign that Minerva had been there was her pile of textbooks and her diary, neatly stacked on the floor.


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A girl – no, more of a young woman – landed on the cold stone floor of their library with a thump. She was wearing black robes with a gold badge pinned on the breast. Underneath her robes, she wore a grey skirt that barely reached her knees, black stockings, a strange type of short boots, and a shirt that resembled a man’s. The blonde woman who witnessed her sudden appearance took out her wand.

“Mobilicorpus!” the blonde woman said, directing the girl’s body out of the library. She walked up one flight of stairs and nodded to a portrait, which swung open to reveal a small hospital wing. A dark-haired woman rushed over as the blonde woman laid the girl on the bed.

“Who is that? What happened? Where did she come from?” the dark-haired woman asked in one breath.

“Calm down,” the blonde-haired woman told her, “I only know the answer to the second question.” The blonde then took a minute to Conjure two comfortable, cushioned chairs, indicating to the other woman that she should sit down.

“What happened?” the dark-haired woman repeated impatiently.

“I was working in the library when suddenly; this girl appeared out of nowhere! Obviously, she is unconscious, so she could not have Apparated in to the library.”

The dark-haired woman sighed exasperatedly. “How many times do I have to remind you three? You can neither Apparate nor Disapparate from inside this castle!”

The blonde-haired woman sighed as well, though more in frustration with herself. “I’m sorry, Ro. I suppose it just slips my mind.”

“That’s alright,” the dark-haired woman said apologetically, “I suppose I overreacted.”

“It’s fine, Ro. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Who is this girl? Why is she here? And where did she come from?”

The dark-haired woman listened attentively to the blonde-haired woman. “I think we need to get the men here – maybe they will have some idea of what is going on.”

“Good idea.” The blonde-haired woman walked over to a portrait on the wall. “Maeve?” she asked the portrait’s inhabitant.

“Yes, dear?” the portrait inquired.

“I presume you were paying attention to our discussion?”

“Of course, dear. Do you want me to fetch the other two?” the portrait asked.

“Would you? Send them up here when you find them, please,” the blonde-haired woman finished.

Queen Maeve nodded regally and walked sideways out of her portrait, spreading the word to the other portraits to send the two men to the hospital wing.

“What should we do while we are waiting for them?” the dark-haired woman asked.

The blonde-haired woman Conjured two more chairs, identical to the ones she had created earlier; a table, a stack of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell.

“I will write down everything we know about this girl. Ro, why don’t you check on her – make sure she does not have any injuries, and the like?”

The dark-haired woman nodded briskly and gathered up her wand, a few bottles, and a few small tubs of potion. She waved her wand over the girl, and began murmuring diagnostic spells over her, while the other woman wrote down all that she knew about their mysterious visitor so far.


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17th April 987 A.D.

The Hospital Wing

Today, approximately one hour after the noon meal, a young woman appeared as if from nowhere, falling into the library, near the shelf by the large fireplace. The girl appears to be my height, and is slender, with long, approximately waist-length hair of a deep chestnut colour, appearing almost black. When she appeared, she was wearing black robes with a gold badge pinned on the breast. She was wearing a grey skirt that barely was long enough to cover her knees, black stockings, a strange type of short boots, and a shirt, which in its design resembles a man’s shirt, but it fits her well.

Ro is giving her a preliminary examination as we wait for the other two to arrive, in order to discuss our new visitor.


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Queen Maeve’s portrait appeared in the dungeon, where a tall, thin man with dark brown hair was brewing potions.

“The women need you in the hospital wing at once,” Queen Maeve told the man as he looked up from his boiling cauldron.

“Can it not wait, Maeve?” he asked, annoyed, “I’ve only just started on a new batch of healing potions.”

“No, it cannot. It is a matter of urgency. They need you there now!” she said, insulted that he dare question her authority. She had been teaching the magic folk of Ireland before their grandparents were even born!

“I will join them in a moment,” the man sighed resignedly, Vanishing his potion.

“Good,” Queen Maeve sniffed, and huffed off to find the last member of their group.


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She found the auburn-haired man in the Great Hall, finishing a sketch of his ideas for the ceiling.

“You are needed in the hospital wing immediately!” Queen Maeve snapped, still annoyed at having her authority questioned.

The auburn-haired man looked up dreamily, still engaged in his sketch.

“Yes, Maeve?” he asked, his eyes glazed over, his mind obviously somewhere else.

“You are needed in the hospital wing!” the portrait all but shrieked, startling the man out of his reverie.

“Right,” he said, running a hand through his shaggy hair, “I am coming.”


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Back in the hospital wing, the dark-haired woman was bent over the unconscious girl, casting diagnostic spells.

Hmm… a slight concussion, possibly from the fall… and a fractured wrist? Skinned kneecaps?

She murmured healing spells, watching in satisfaction as the painful grimace on the girl’s face smoothed away into an expression of peace. Opening one of the small jars, the woman rubbed a bit of the thick potion onto the girl’s skinned kneecaps, nodding as the skin healed quickly. She looked up as the door was flung open and admitted two men into the room.


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“…And that was what happened,” the blonde-haired woman said, concluding her part. The two men nodded.

“When do you think she will wake, Ro?” the auburn-haired man asked.

“Any time between now and two days from now,” the dark-haired woman replied.

“I think that we should make a schedule, allowing one of us to be here at all times in case she does wake up,” the formerly silent, dark-haired man said.

“That is an excellent idea,” the other man said, clapping him on the back.

“I can take the first shift,” the dark-haired man said.

The two women sighed in relief. “Thank you,” the blonde-haired woman said.

After assuring the two women and the other man that he could take care of their unexpected arrival, and that he would send for them if she awoke, he ushered them out of the hospital wing and stood at the doorway, watching them retire to the different parts of the castle that housed their rooms.

Then, storing the notes the blonde-haired woman had taken during their meeting, he Banished the Conjured furniture and sat down on the edge of the occupied bed. He had not had a chance yet to look closely at their visitor.

The first thing that struck him was her beauty – her perfectly shaped features, her dark, luxurious hair. He watched her, captivated, as her chest rose with each breath that she took. He had thought himself in love with Ro, but now he realised that was not true. He had lost his heart to this sleeping woman within seconds of first laying eyes upon her.

It had been only few seconds or several hours when she began to stir. Opening her gorgeous blue eyes for the first time since her arrival, she looked deep into his grey ones. Blinking her long eyelashes several times, she looked around the room as if confused with the scenery, before looking back into the man’s deep grey eyes.

“Where am I?”

[dianahawthorne]

Perfect Woman

Chapter Two: A Lovely Apparition


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A lovely apparition, sent

To be a moment's ornament


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The man stared at her for a moment, struck dumb by the musical quality of her voice. She looked at him inquiringly. Finally, he regained control over his body.

“You are at Hogwarts Castle, in Scotland, my lady,” he said, bowing slightly. Her eyes opened wide in shock.

“Hogwarts?” she repeated faintly.

“Yes. My three companions and I hope to found a school here, in time.” He noticed the pallor of her face. “Are you all right, my lady?” he inquired solicitously.

“Hope to found a school… what year is it?” she asked with sudden alacrity.

He looked at her, confused. “Why, it is 987, my lady. My lady?” She had fallen into a dead faint.


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“…do not know what happened, Helga! She asked me where she was, and I told her that she was at Hogwarts Castle, which we hoped to make into a school one day. She repeated me, and then asked what year it was. I told her – and she fainted!”

“…should have summoned us right away…”

“…too startled at her sudden relapse into consciousness…”

“…could not be any more irresponsible…”

“…no parents would want to leave their children with you, after this…”

The girl on the bed began to stir.

“…waking up…”

“…potion on the right shelf, the lavender one…”

A soft hand helped the girl into a sitting position, while another pair of hands plumped the pillows behind her back.

“Here you go, my dear,” a comforting voice crooned, “Drink it all down, that’s right, it will help you to feel better…” The girl obediently sipped the potion, which was not as foul tasting as the ones she was used to.

Within a few moments, the girl was resting contentedly against her newly fluffed pillows, looking up at the four people gathered in front of her. They looked back at her expectantly.

“Is it really 987?” the girl asked softly, cautiously.

The blonde-haired woman who had given her the potion nodded. “Yes, it is. April 17th, 987, to be exact.”

The girl groaned and clutched at her head. The blonde-haired woman put a hand on the girl’s forehead, reflexively.

“Are you all right, my dear?” she asked concernedly.

“No! Of course I am not all right!” she cried, “I am almost one thousand years in the past!”

Several things happened at once. The blonde-haired woman gathered the girl into her arms like a child, and rocked her back and forth, as she cried. The auburn-haired man awkwardly placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. The dark-haired man looked at the dark-haired woman, whose face showed a sudden flash of understanding. The two of them bolted from the hospital wing, running swiftly to the library. The girl did not notice their sudden exit, however, the man and woman comforting her did notice, and exchanged a glance over the girl’s head.


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“What the bloody hell did you do, Rowena?” Salazar yelled as soon as they arrived at the library, “We all agreed that your playing about with time would lead to no good!” He rummaged through the bookshelves, looking for the book that had transported the girl to their time. He could not find it.

“Where did you hide it, Rowena?” he asked resignedly.

“She is meant to be here, Salazar,” she told him calmly. “I have Seen it. You cannot alter these events – they must occur.”

“Damn your Divination!” Salazar swore, grabbing Rowena by her shoulders and shaking her. “You cannot know what consequences will come of this!”

“Nor can you know,” she replied, still calm. “I know more of what is to occur than you do, Salazar, and I will not let you change these events. They must come about.”

He released his tight grip on her arms and stalked out of the library. Rowena began to straighten up the mess Salazar had made when he was looking for her book to transport the girl back into the future.

“You shall see, Salazar,” she murmured, “Her presence will affect you the most.”


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After their visitor from the future had cried herself back to sleep, Godric and Helga talked in whispered voices about the sudden disappearance of Salazar and Rowena.

“I think that Rowena has a hand in bringing this girl from the future,” Godric said in a hushed tone, “And I think that Salazar knows it.”

Helga nodded solemnly. “I do not know why Rowena would bring this girl from the future, if she did have a hand in these events, but I suspect that she was influenced by something.”

“What?” Godric asked her.

“Fate,” Helga replied simply, “fate.”


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Rowena rejoined Helga and Godric an hour later.

“I brought her from the future,” Rowena said placidly.

Godric and Helga exchanged a look of significance before Godric asked, “Does Salazar know this?”

Rowena nodded calmly. “Yes, he does.”

“Why?” Helga asked her, “Why did you bring her?”

“She has a role to fulfill,” Rowena responded, “And she must not know of it.”

Godric and Helga nodded in silent agreement. Content with their unspoken promise not to reveal this conversation to the girl, Rowena exited the hospital wing and retired to her chambers, where she fell into an unnaturally deep sleep.


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Rowena dreamed of Salazar, and of the girl, flashes of their future appearing to her.

…Salazar watching the girl sleep, enraptured with every intake of breath…

…Salazar and the girl curled up together under the willow tree by the lake…

…an embroidery of a serpent and lioness entwined…

…an emerald, set in gold, glinting on the third finger of the girl’s left hand…

…the girl wearing the white robe Rowena had made for her own wedding, standing outside the doors to the Great Hall…

…their dark hair tangled together as they lay naked in bed…

…a crying newborn with his hair and her eyes…

…five chairs at the High Table…

‘It should have been me,’ Rowena thought passionately, ‘I am in love with him – it should have been me!’ Her protests were unheard – even by herself – and unanswered. Her silent refusal to accept the now inevitable future went unnoticed by her mind – but her heart remembered.


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“I can watch over her tonight, Godric,” Helga told him firmly, “You need your rest.”

Godric took her hand and raised it tenderly to his lips, causing a slight flush to appear in Helga’s face. He studied her visage carefully, memorising its every feature, until Helga’s modesty took hold, causing her to look away.

“Good night,” he murmured, and raised her hand to his lips again. She smiled radiantly up at him, whispering, “Good night.”

He made his way to the door of the hospital wing, turning once more to see her, before he retired to bed.


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Long after Godric had retired to his quarters, Salazar snuck back up to the hospital wing, where Helga was keeping vigil over the sleeping form of the girl.

“Go to sleep, Helga,” he told her in an unusually gentle tone, “I’ll watch over her tonight.”

She knew better than to argue with him – she could see the tender look in his eye that appeared when he looked at the girl. She quietly gathered her things – her shawl, her knitting – and bade him goodnight. He bid her goodnight as well, almost absentmindedly, as he Conjured a chair by the girl’s bedside. Once again, he found himself taken in by her beauty.

He wanted to get to know her – all that he knew about her was that she was from the future – almost a thousand years in the future. He wanted to learn her name, her likes and dislikes, her favourite pastimes, her story… He had never felt this way about anyone before – not even Rowena. This feeling certainly stretched far beyond simple curiosity – he wanted to know about this girl so he could see where he would fit in with her life.

Salazar shook his head, annoyed at his sentimentality. He stood up and began to pace around the room. He had barely spoken to this girl, and he was daydreaming about spending his life with her.

“Foolish,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head again. He had not noticed that, during his scolding of himself, the girl had woken up.

“What’s foolish?” she asked him kindly.

“I am,” Salazar replied, subconsciously aware that he was talking to the girl, but not acknowledging it.

“Why is that?” she persisted.

“I am in love with you, yet we do not know each other at all,” he replied. When he realised what he had just said, and to whom, he whirled around to face the girl.

She looked at him calmly, gesturing for him to have a seat. He collapsed heavily in the chair he had Conjured earlier, and buried his face in his hands.

“I am sorry, my lady, for my inappropriate thoughts,” Salazar began. He stopped when a delicate hand took his. He looked up at her.

“I must confess,” the girl began, “that for some time now, I have been having dreams of you. I had not wanted to acknowledge the obvious truth in those dreams, as I do not put much stock in Divination, but I cannot – and will not – deny the truth now. Ever since these dreams began six months ago, I have discovered that I had fallen in love with you. I do not know why I have dreamt these things, nor do I know why I am here in this time; however, I intend to make the most of it. Obviously, I was meant to be here, with you, and I would not change it.”

She had been looking at their joined hands, but upon finishing her monologue, she raised her gaze to his face. His eyes were warm, tender, and full of love, and he raised their joined hands to his lips. Her cheeks flushed with pleasure at the obvious acceptance of her confession.

“I am glad,” he told her, keeping her hand in his own. “What is your name?”

Unexpectedly, she broke into a tinkling peal of laughter, and Salazar watched her with unabashed pleasure at the sound.

“We have just confessed our love for the other and we do not know who the other is!” she chortled, eminently amused. “I am Minerva Jean McGonagall.”

“I am Salazar Slytherin.” Her eyes widened at that statement.

“Oh, dear,” she said, placing her free hand on her heart, shocked at this turn of events. “Oh, dear.”

[dianahawthorne]

Perfect Woman

Chapter Three: Stars of Twilight Fair


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Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

A/N: Thank you to all my readers and reviewers - I hope that you like this next chapter, and continue to read and review the story!


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Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;

Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;

But all things else about her drawn

From May-time and the cheerful dawn


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“What is wrong, my lady?” Salazar asked her worriedly. Her face had paled and she had her hand pressed against her breast, presumably to still the frantic beat of her heart. He could feel her accelerated pulse in her wrist – she had not removed her other hand from his grasp.

She took a deep breath. “I suppose it should not matter, really, because the events that led to your… reputation…have not occurred yet – but you do not have the most… flattering personality, at least according to the history books of my time.” She looked up at him nervously.

He did not know what to say. “What do you mean?” he asked her.

“Well… you have quite the repute for not liking children of non-Wizarding heritage,” she said, her eyes studying the coverlet on her bed with feigned interest.

“…I see,” Salazar replied, confused yet thoughtful, “I suppose that the history books do not mention the fact that my father’s father was a Muggle? We were very close – unfortunately, he died when I was fifteen, but prior to his death we shared a close relationship, even when I began to study magic in more depth.”

She stared at him, nonplussed. “No, they do not mention that salient detail.”

He burst out into laughter, and this time it was Minerva who was captivated by the sound. She joined him in his merriment, her own giggle causing him to look at her, the amount of love present in his gaze causing her to blush.

“Never fear, my lady, I have no anti-Muggle sentiments whatsoever,” Salazar continued, serious again, once their laughter had died down.

“I am glad,” Minerva replied, “My heart would have broken if you had. I would not have allowed myself to get to know you better… and I would not have allowed myself to love you.”

He raised her hand to his lips again, eliciting another blush to blossom across her ivory cheeks. They stared at each other, lost in the moment, but were prematurely brought back to reality as Rowena entered the hospital wing.


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Rowena had not gotten much sleep last night. After awaking from her dream of Salazar and the girl’s future together, she spent much time trying to figure out a way to send the girl back to her own time. Rowena refused to analyse her sudden change in heart – after all, had she not told Salazar that the girl was meant to be here? She knew that her hasty desire to return the girl to her own time was a result of the dream that she had… the dream where she wore the dress Rowena made for her own wedding as she married Salazar…

Rowena checked her thoughts there. Plenty of time to think that over once the girl is back in her time, Rowena thought to herself. She found her notes on the time-travel spell, and rushed to the hospital wing, the precious pieces of parchment clutched in her hand.

“I have found a way to transport you back to your own time,” Rowena told Salazar and the girl without preamble. “We can perform the spell right now, and you will be sent back to your own time post-haste.”

The heartbroken look the couple shared only slightly dampened Rowena’s enthusiasm. She watched Salazar caress the girl’s hand lovingly, before rising from his seat on the bed.

“May I have a word, Rowena,” he said, his grey eyes glinting like steel. Without waiting for a response, he took her elbow somewhat forcefully and pulled her out into the hallway. He closed the door to the hospital wing and placed Silencing charms around the immediate area.

“What are you playing at, Rowena,” he hissed, the fury in his eyes causing Rowena to take a step back in fear.

“No-nothing,” she stammered, “I’m not playing at anything! I thought over your words last night, and I realised that you were right. She cannot stay here.”

“Well, I disagree,” Salazar snapped, “I was wrong. She was meant to be here. And even if I was right, I refuse to let you perform that spell without Helga and Godric’s consent.” With that last remark, Salazar spun on his heel and flung open the door to the hospital wing. After he closed it, Rowena could hear him performing warding, locking, and Silencing charms on the doors and windows.


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Rowena marched back to the library, furious at Salazar. How dare he accuse her of having ulterior motives? He was supposed to be the cunning one. Even as she thought this, her conscience nagged at her. She did have an ulterior motive – she wanted to win Salazar’s love. She would never achieve that with the girl here. As scenes from her dream merged with the tender touches she witnessed in the hospital wing merged, Rowena grew angrier. That girl had no right to Salazar’s heart. She was meant to be the woman in his life, not that girl. How dare he do this to her!


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Helga woke up to the bright morning sun streaming through the enchanted glass windows. Sitting up in bed, she let out a screech when she realised that Godric stood in the doorway of her quarters.

“Good morning, Helga,” Godric said cheerfully, ignoring the shriek of surprise that had just escaped Helga’s lips, “How are you on this fine morning?”

“Godric! What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?” she hissed, frantically searching for her dressing gown.

“I went back up to the hospital wing this morning to see if you were still there,” he began, sitting down in an armchair he Conjured, “And you were not there – no one was. I was worried, but then I saw Salazar enter the room. He looked angry. He locked the door with quite a few charms. I then saw Rowena hurrying away from the hospital wing, looking angrier than I have ever seen her. I am worried, Helga,” he ended, taking a deep breath and waited for her reply.

Helga looked deep in thought. “I suppose Rowena wanted to send the girl back to her own time,” she said slowly, becoming more confident in her assumption with each words she uttered, “And Salazar disagreed. That is why they are angry.”

Godric looked confused. “But Salazar wanted to send the girl back to the future, did he not?”

“Oh, Godric,” she sighed, “men can be so blind.”

“Pardon me?” Godric said, fighting to keep his temper in check.

“Really, Godric. There is no need to take that remark personally. It is simply a fact of life,” Helga sighed, before continuing, “Could you not see that Salazar and Rowena were in love with each other before the girl came? Well, in Salazar’s case, it was more of an infatuation. He is in love with the girl, she with him. Rowena is jealous of them.”

Now it was Godric’s turn to be lost in thought. “Are you quite sure that you are correct?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she replied firmly.

Godric sighed. “I hope that Rowena does not do anything rash…”


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In the hospital wing, Salazar rejoined Minerva on the bed, once again taking her hands in his.

“What is going to happen next, Salazar?” she asked him, worry written across her face.

“I refused to let her perform the spell. When you first arrived in this time, unconscious, Rowena told me of a prophecy that said you were supposed to be here. At first, I objected, but last night and this morning changed my mind. You are supposed to be here. Rowena said she changed her mind as well – that she now believed that you were not supposed to be here. She wanted to perform the spell immediately. I told her she could not, and, that even if my original assertion was correct, that you were not meant to be here, Helga and Godric would have to agree with her before I would even consider performing the spell.”

Minerva’s worried face relaxed. “Thank you, Salazar,” she breathed, and moved closer to him. He shifted in his position on the bed and moved so that his back was against the wall. Minerva moved closer to his warmth, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Looking down into her eyes, they drew closer and closer to each other before their lips met in their first sweet kiss.


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Rowena, rummaging through her private library, crowed in victory upon finding a crumbling scroll. She opened it carefully, laying it out upon the table, before Summoning a pot of ink, a quill, and a fresh sheaf of parchment. She dipped the quill in ink and set in on the blank piece of parchment, before waving her wand over the disintegrating scroll and murmuring, “Duplicatus Scriptum.” As the quill began to write the contents of the scroll on the fresh sheaf of parchment, Rowena beamed.

“They shall pay,” she whispered vindictively, rolling up both the scroll and its duplicate, storing them carefully in an enchanted chest for the right time. “They shall pay.”

[dianahawthorne]

Perfect Woman


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A/N: Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter!


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Chapter Four: Dancing Shape

A dancing shape, an image gay,

To haunt, to startle, and waylay.


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Upon breaking their kiss, Salazar drew back and looked down at Minerva. Her eyes were closed, savouring the kiss, and her lips were parted. A becoming flush of colour turned her cheeks a lovely shade of rose, and, as her dark eyelashes fluttered open, he found himself lost in her beauty.

“What is the matter, Salazar?” she questioned him, worried that she had done something wrong. He did not look angry, but his steady gaze was a bit disconcerting.

He blinked, emerging from his trance-like state, and replied, “Minerva, I have been entranced by your beauty ever since I first saw you arrive in this time.” Minerva averted her eyes, her blush growing deeper.

“I am not beautiful, Salazar,” she murmured, looking away from him. He caught her chin in his hand.

“Yes, you are,” he told her, gently raising her chin, encouraging her to look at him. When their eyes met again, he bent his head once more, and their lips touched for only the second time. Minerva wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body as close against his as she could manage, and Salazar pulled her close to him as well. Their kiss deepened, growing yet more sensuous, and Minerva moaned. Salazar broke out of the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.

“We must not go any further than this,” Salazar told her, “Unless you would agree to be my wife.” He tapped the third finger of her left hand, causing a thin golden band with an emerald to appear there. She looked into his eyes.

“Of course I will agree!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him.

“Despite the short amount of time we have known each other?” he questioned her worriedly.

She nodded her head. “We may have only spent a few days together in the same time period, but, as I explained before, I have had dreams of you for the past six months. And did you not say that Rowena told you that I was meant to be here?”

He nodded his head, rubbing circles on the back of her hand.

“Well, then,” she said happily, “you see? This was meant to happen!”

He paused for a moment. “Do you… believe in fate?” he asked her slowly.

“No, not in most situations; but for our circumstances, I do believe that we were meant to be together.”

“I do, too,” he said, and leaned down to kiss her.


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Helga, Rowena, and Godric were dining together in the Great Hall, their conversation stilted as they attempted to avoid discussing the events of the previous night. Their awkward attempts at chatting were mercifully brought to a halt when Salazar and the girl entered the room. Godric stood as they entered, and Salazar pulled out a chair next to Helga for the girl, before helping her into her seat. He then pulled out a chair for himself, and then he and Godric sat down.

“Helga, Godric, Rowena,” Salazar began, “This is Minerva Jean McGonagall. She is from the year 1943, and she is my fiancée.” He turned to Minerva and raised her hand to his lips. “My darling, this is Helga,” he indicated the blonde woman, who gave a gracious smile; “Godric,” he inclined his head towards the only other male at the table, who rose and gave her a short bow before resuming his seat; “and Rowena,” he finished, indicating the dark-haired woman seated opposite Minerva. Rowena gave her a rather forced smile, stiffly nodding her head to acknowledge Minerva.

“I hope that you both will be very happy with each other,” Helga said, taking Minerva’s free hand in her own. “I’m sure that we will become good friends.” Minerva smiled at the kind woman, relieved at her easy acceptance of the news. Godric then spoke up.

“Have you decided on the date of your marriage?” he questioned them.

Minerva answered him. “Yes, we have, actually.”

Salazar continued, adding, “We actually would like to be bonded tonight. That is, if you would perform the ceremony,” he finished, looking at Godric.

A broad smile swept across his narrow face. “I would be honoured,” he said, inclining his head to Minerva.

Smiling, Helga turned to Minerva. “Do you have any other robes but these?” Helga asked her, indicating the somewhat worn-down school robes Minerva had been wearing when she first appeared in this time.

Minerva looked down in consternation, a frown marring her face. “No, I do not,” she replied.

Helga cast a critical eye on Minerva’s figure. The slightly plump witch said, “Well, I do not believe that any of my robes will be adequate – you and I have much different shapes. Perhaps Rowena would be willing to lend you a set of robes?”

Both women glanced over at Rowena, who was trying to keep her temper in check.

“Of course,” Rowena replied through gritted teeth. “I have just the set.”

Excusing themselves, the three women walked up to Rowena’s quarters, and she opened the wardrobe doors. Rummaging through the sets of robes hanging there, she gingerly extracted a set of gorgeous white silk wedding robes – the very robes Rowena had seen Minerva wear in her dream.

She thrust them to Minerva, saying, “Here, wear these.” Minerva’s mouth dropped open as she took in the beautiful robes. She was speechless.

“Oh, Rowena, these are lovely,” Helga exclaimed, making up for Minerva’s lack of a verbal response. “Let’s get you dressed.”


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Meanwhile, Godric was trying to warn Salazar of Rowena’s feelings for him.

“She is in love with you, Salazar, and I’m not sure what she will do to ensure that you fall in love with her in return.”

“She had her chance,” Salazar told Godric coldly. “I proposed to her last year, and she rejected my proposal. She said that she did not feel anything for me beyond “friendly affection.” If, indeed, she does have feelings for me now, it is her own fault. She had a chance, and she did not take it. Now, I have found love with someone else – someone who returns the sentiment. I will not let Rowena’s petty jealousy destroy that.”

Godric sighed. He had not known that Salazar had proposed to Rowena, or that she had rejected him. That changed everything. Maybe Salazar was right, that he should be allowed to move on with his fiancée. After all, it was Rowena’s fault that they were not bonded. If she had agreed to his proposal, these circumstances would be entirely different…

Godric Conjured a bottle of wine, pouring a small amount into his and Salazar’s goblets. “Here’s to you and your bride,” Godric toasted, clinking their goblets together, before they each drained their cup.

Salazar looked at Godric after they finished their wine. “Thank you, Godric,” he said, heartfelt. “I am glad I have your approval.”

Godric nodded; thinking, too bad you do not have Rowena’s approval…


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An hour later, Godric stood in the Great Hall, his back facing the windows. Salazar’s back was also to the windows, though he was slightly closer to the doors. Rowena stood next to Godric, and Helga stood on his other side.

Each of the four Founders were wearing their best robes in their colours: Godric, in velvet robes of deep red, with cloth-of-gold trim at the hems; Rowena, in brocade robes of deep blue, the sleeves slashed to show the bronze silk under robe beneath; Helga, in damask robes of yellow, embroidered in black; and, finally, Salazar, resplendent in long green silk robes trimmed with cloth-of-silver. Each Founder also wore a jewelled pin with their Animagi form portrayed on it: a raven made of sapphires set in bronze for Rowena; a golden lion with ruby eyes for Godric; an onyx badger set in gold for Helga; and an emerald serpent set in silver for Salazar.

After all four Founders had assembled themselves in their positions; Godric waved his wand, causing the large wooden doors of the Great Hall to open, revealing a slender woman in white robes. She began to walk slowly across the Great Hall as her soon-to-be-husband’s eyes watched her every move. She finally reached the four Founders, and Salazar took her hand in his own, pressing it to his chest. The two lovers exchanged a loving glance before facing Godric, their hands still entwined.


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Helga was crying – she had never seen two people more in love with the other in all her life. She hoped that they would be happy together, but the distinct aura of jealousy and anger emanating from Rowena was unnerving her indeed.


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Godric’s voice was choked as he waved his wand over the two lovers’ entwined hands. As they kissed, Godric snuck a look at Helga, who returned his gaze. He extended his hand to hers, and she grasped it, smiling at him warmly from between her tears. Perhaps Helga and I shall find love as well, Godric thought, as Salazar and his bride broke the kiss. He gave Helga’s hand a gentle squeeze, and shot her a tender smile when she returned it.


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Rowena could not believe that she had not stopped their marriage. Throughout the ceremony, her heart was screaming for her to stop this awful monstrosity. However, Rowena’s mind rejoiced. Their marriage would make it much easier to get her revenge…


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Salazar looked at his bride, her eyes closed as they moved to the waltz playing on Helga’s enchanted instruments. As the music ended, she opened her gorgeous eyes and looked up at him, giving him a warm smile.

“Is it time to retire to our rooms, yet?” she asked, love evident in her eyes and her voice.

“I do believe it is,” he replied, and scooped her into his arms, bringing her back to their chambers.


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Lying completely and utterly sated across his bed, Minerva snuggled into his warm embrace as he stirred.

“Mmm…” she moaned, as his hands rubbed her back sensuously. She had never felt so content in her entire life.

He captured her lips in a kiss for what must have been the thousandth time that night. “I love you, my darling,” Salazar whispered against her lips as they broke from their kiss.

“I love you too, Salazar,” she replied, “I have never felt so happy in my life.”

“Nor have I, my dearest,” he responded, “Nor have I.”

[Junora]

OMG, I'm speechless, wonderful,
poor Rowena oh well her fault, if she hadn't refused his propsal maybe. XD

But still heartwarming wonderful

Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Perfect Woman

Chapter Five: Yet a Woman, Too!

A/N: It gets a bit lemony in this chapter, though not enough to warrant me posting this on the lemon board. But just a warning! ;D Enjoy, and please read and review!
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I saw her upon nearer view,

A Spirit, yet a Woman, Too!
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After the ceremony, Rowena had retired to her rooms. She did not want to see the newly wed couple dance; nor did she wish to be the odd person out. It was obvious that Godric and Helga would soon follow the example of Salazar and the girl, and, while Rowena was happy that her two friends had found love with each other, she did not want to have to be reminded of her lack of a partner. Nor did she want to watch Salazar and the girl dance.

Why did she reject Salazar’s proposal? Why did she listen to her head over her heart? If she had accepted it, she and Salazar would be married right now, and she would not have to sulk in her rooms, jealous of that twit from the future.

But she would get her revenge, Rowena promised herself. She would ensure that, at their happiest moment, their entire lives would be ruined. She would not allow that girl to take what was rightfully Rowena’s. That girl would have to pay for taking Salazar away from her.
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Monday morning dawned bright and clear at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Madame Pince, the librarian, was in a fine mood as she opened up the library. Checking the returned-books box, she found quite a few copies of Moste Potente Potions, and she set aside a copy for Miss McGonagall, the Head Girl.

She gathered up the remaining copies and began re-shelving them, but stopped when she saw a pile of books lying on the floor.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” she muttered, flicking her wand at the books she had yet to shelve. They obediently flew to their appropriate places, and she was free to investigate the mistreated books she had just seen. She bent down and gently lifted the pile from their spot in front of one of the shelves of the Restricted Section. Making her way over to one of the numerous study tables scattered throughout the library, she placed the other books down before opening the top book, a slim volume with a black leather cover and no title. Inside, inscribed in green ink, was the name “Minerva Jean McGonagall”.

The librarian gasped, and then quickly flipped through the other books to see if they also belonged to Miss McGonagall. They did, and her fears were confirmed. Miss McGonagall was the only other person in the school whom she would trust the library to – and if Miss McGonagall had simply abandoned the books there, there must be something quite wrong indeed.

Madame Pince gathered Miss McGonagall’s books together once more, and then closed up the library. She needed to inform Professor Dumbledore, Miss McGonagall’s Head of House, of her suspicions.
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Helga and Godric breakfasted together on the veranda overlooking the spacious lawns of Hogwarts.

“That was such a lovely ceremony yesterday, do you not agree, Helga?” Godric asked her, admiring the way the sun lit up her profile. She turned toward him.

“Yes, it was ever so romantic,” she sighed happily. “I hope that someday I am as happy as Salazar and Minerva seem to be.”

This was the opening Godric had been waiting for. “Would you marry me, and make me as happy as Salazar?” he asked Helga, kneeling at her feet, holding out a ruby and onyx ring set in gold. She clapped her hands over her mouth.

“Oh, Godric, do you mean it?” she asked, unconsciously drawing a hand close to the ring before withdrawing it quickly. Godric took her hand in his, and slipped the ring on her finger.

“Yes, I do mean it, Helga,” Godric said. “I have loved you for such a long time now, and I finally feel as though this is the perfect moment.”

She smiled, her entire face lighting up at his words. “I love you, too, Godric!” she cried, “I love you too!”
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“No one has seen Miss McGonagall since Friday evening,” Professor Albus Dumbledore, Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Head of Gryffindor House, and the Transfiguration Professor, told Madame Pince gravely. “Headmaster Dippet has assigned all ghosts and portraits to make a thorough search of the castle in order to determine the exact time she was last seen.”

Madame Pince nodded gravely. “Is there anything I can do to help, Professor Dumbledore?”

Pressing his fingertips together, he thought for a moment before responding. “Yes, there is,” he told her, “if you hear anything at all related to her disappearance, please inform me immediately. Other than that, I do not believe there is anything else to be done. Thank you, Madame Pince.”

“Thank you, Professor,” she said, standing. “Would you like to retain her books? You might find something in her diary or textbooks.”

Albus nodded. “Thank you, Madame Pince. That is an inspired idea. If you would just leave them here…” he indicated a spot on his cluttered desk, and she deposited the pile of books accordingly. “Thank you.”

She nodded in response, and quickly made her way to the door. She needed to open the library…
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Salazar propped himself up on his elbow, holding himself above his sleeping bride. His gaze traced her profile, and, though he wanted to restrain himself, he did not, and allowed his fingertips to gently caress the curves hidden by their blankets. She began to stir, and he raised a hand to stroke her cheek, before lowering himself to meet her lips with his own.

She began to return the kiss, her arms embracing him, as she further emerged into consciousness. She then pulled him to lie more fully on top of her, and he pressed his morning arousal against her.

“Ohh…” she moaned, excited by the sensation of their bare flesh touching. “Good morning, husband,” she added, looking up into his eyes, which were dark with desire.

“Good morning, wife,” he replied, caressing her cheek once again. “You look so beautiful this morning.” He renewed their kiss, mouths opening, tongues playing, as he pressed against her again.

“Mmm, more, Salazar, more!” she cried as he massaged her breasts, his hands drifting lower and lower with each one of her moans. As he entered her, she began to rock with him, vigorously, as he stroked and pumped hard within her. She finally came, her passion exploding, and her own release acted as a spark for his own. They collapsed on his bed, mimicking the positions they had ended in the night before, lying utterly sated and spread-eagled upon the mattress.

He rolled over on his side to face her and began stroking her cheek once again. Her closed eyes fluttered open, and she smiled radiantly at him.

“Was that a pleasant way to wake up, my lady?” he asked her mischievously.

Deciding to play along, she replied, “I suppose it will have to do for now.” She sighed teasingly. “It was a good first try, I suppose.”

Salazar chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him. She shivered pleasurably as she felt his laugh vibrate through his body and into hers.

“I will try harder, then, next time,” Salazar told her jokingly. “A good first try, indeed!”

They both laughed quietly at his last statement, until both of their stomachs growled simultaneously.

“I suppose we must get out of bed, then,” Minerva sighed, placing one hand on her flat stomach. Salazar removed her hand and kissed it gently.

“We can always return to bed later, my dear,” he told her, his eyes sparkling. “After all, we cannot stay in bed forever, as much as I wish we could – but as long as we eat a hearty breakfast, I feel safe enough to say that we will not be compelled to leave the bed for quite some time!”

She smiled and blushed at his words, before removing her hand from his. She swung her legs around and stepped onto the rug that shielded their feet from the cold stone floor, before Summoning her slippers and a dressing gown.

“Well, don’t you want to have breakfast, Salazar?” she teased him. He followed suit, and they leisurely made their way to the table and chairs in front of the window, overlooking the main lawns of the castle. Salazar called for a house-elf, and they both satisfied their growling stomachs before shedding their dressing gowns again and returning to bed.
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…I am not exactly sure who he is, but I know that I am in love with him. After seeing him in my dreams for the past several months, I feel as though I know him as well as I know myself. I wonder who he is – I hope that he is real. I do not think that I could bear it if he was just a figment of my imagination…

Albus Dumbledore finished reading the last entry in Miss McGonagall’s diary, and he closed the diary gently before removing his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose.

“I do believe that this “mystery man” is the key to finding Miss McGonagall’s whereabouts, don’t you, Fawkes?” the man asked his familiar softly. The phoenix cooed softly before pointing his head at the stack of Miss McGonagall’s books.

“I should ask Madame Pince where she found them?” he questioned Fawkes, encouraged when the phoenix chirped. Albus Dumbledore swiftly stood up and made his way to the library in search of Madame Pince.
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Helga, Godric, Rowena, Salazar, and Minerva all gathered in the Great Hall for dinner that night.

“Helga and I plan to be married soon,” Godric announced as soon as the others were seated. A moment of shocked silence ensued, but was broken by Minerva jumping out of her seat and giving Helga a spontaneous hug.

“I am so happy for both of you!” she exclaimed, and, upon returning to her seat, gave Salazar a quick kiss. “I hope that you two will be eternally happy together.”

“Thank you, Minerva,” Helga told the girl, extending her hand across the table and squeezing the other girl’s hand slightly. “That is very kind of you.”

“Yes, thank you, Lady Slytherin,” Godric replied, his eyes twinkling as he used her married name. Salazar’s eyes sparkled as well, and he rose from his seat to give Godric a crushing bear hug.

“Congratulations, old man,” Salazar teased.

“Thank you,” Godric replied, chuckling. “And who are you calling ‘old man’? You are a month older than me!” The two men broke into laughter.

Throughout the announcement, Rowena had remained silent, though she was truly happy for Helga and Godric. Why, though, did they have to become engaged just after Salazar had married? Was everyone going to live happily ever after except her?

“Congratulations, Helga, Godric,” Rowena said woodenly, rising from her chair. “If you will excuse me, I have some research to do.”

“All right,” Helga told her worriedly. “Are you feeling well?”

Rowena faked a smile. “Yes, I am just not hungry, that is all,” she replied.

Helga nodded sceptically but let Rowena leave. The last sound the dark-haired woman heard from the Great Hall was the pealing laughter of Salazar’s new bride.
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“Are you sure this is exactly where you found her books, Madame Pince?” Albus asked the librarian as they stood in front of the shelf that witnessed Minerva’s disappearance.

“Yes, Professor,” she replied patiently.

“Thank you…” he murmured distractedly, already lost in examining the titles of the books on the shelf. Madame Pince nodded, then excused herself to help a student. Albus took no notice, and continued to further examine the shelf, until the dinner bell rang.

“I will look over these books when I next have time,” he promised himself, as he stood up straight and made his way to the Great Hall. As he took his spot at the High Table, he could have sworn he heard Minerva’s laugh echo throughout the room. He shook his head – wishful thinking.

[Junora]

Uuuhh an update and what a wonderful one.
Indeed what a wonderful way to wake up. *grin*

I love it

hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Perfect Woman

Chapter Six: Light and Free

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers (especially Junora!!) - I hope you continue to enjoy this story, as I am enjoying writing it! The next chapter will be added tomorrow, and then that will probably be the last chapter for about two weeks, as I have IB (International Baccalaureate) exams during the next two weeks.

Also, there is a lemon about halfway through this chapter, so if you don't like lemons, be warned! LOL.
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Her household motions light and free,

And steps of virgin liberty
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As the men talked, Helga and Minerva strolled along the castle grounds, talking and becoming better acquainted with the other.

“My parents were killed when I was a wee lass,” Minerva told Helga as they passed the vegetable garden. “I can scarce remember them.”

Helga sighed, and patted Minerva’s arm in solidarity. “My own mother died giving birth to me,” Helga told her companion. “My father did not remarry, for I fear he never recovered from my mother’s death. He was good to me, though – he never resented my presence nor blamed my mother’s passing on my existence.”

As they doubled back at the edge of the small fruit grove near the western end of the castle, their talk turned to more pleasant and practical things.

“Do you think that you’ll be up for a trip to London tomorrow?” Helga asked Minerva.

“Aye, but why?” she answered, puzzled.

“Well, you don’t plan on wearing your same robes for the rest of your life, do you?” Helga giggled. “Salazar asked me to take you to London in order to buy you some new robes and other essentials – he wants us to make a little outing of it.”

“But I don’t have any money!” Minerva exclaimed, dismayed.

Helga giggled again. “Salazar does, ye silly goose! Do you not expect your own husband to provide the clothes for his wife’s back?”

Minerva’s anxious expression melted into one of relief. “Aye, I had forgotten. Marriage, it seems, will take some getting used to.” She twisted the wedding band on her finger.

“What’s wrong, Minerva?” Helga asked her, halting for a moment to look into her eyes.

“Oh, Helga…” Minerva sighed. “It just feels as though Rowena does not like me – that she feels I should not be here. And I do think that she and Salazar had a deeper relationship at one point – am I right?”

Helga’s expression grew sombre, and she replied noncommittally, “Well, Rowena’s a hard person to win over, but once you’ve made friends with her, you’re friends for life. As for Salazar and Rowena… I believe that they had been courting at one point, though I am not sure of anything else. If you feel comfortable, talk to Salazar about it – I’m not sure that their relationship was much more than courtship, though I could be wrong.”

Minerva sighed again, and then took Helga’s hand. Squeezing it, she murmured, “Thank you. You have been such a true friend to me over these past few days.”

Helga smiled, and squeezed Minerva’s hand in return. “I hope that, as time passes, we are able to become better friends, Minerva.”

Minerva nodded. “I do, too.”

They walked in companionable silence back up to the castle.
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“So, old man, how is married life?” Godric asked Salazar.

Salazar sighed contentedly, his eyes taking on a dreamy expression. “It is wonderful, Godric. I hope that you experience the same bliss that I have when you and Helga are married.”

Godric chuckled. “She’s that good in the sack, hmm?”

Salazar rolled his eyes at his friend. “She is, but that is not what I am referring to. Her sheer presence gives me such a feeling of… peace, of bliss… that I cannot imagine how I have survived without it for so long.”

“You really do love her, then?” Godric questioned him, holding up his hands in mock-surrender as Salazar glared at him. “Just checking! Helga seems to have taken her under her wing, and I would hate to have to teach you a lesson if you harm her…”

Salazar nodded, his glare subsiding. “There is no need to worry about that,” he told Godric. “I love her with all my heart.”

“I’m glad – but this mantra sounds a bit familiar. Did you not say the same about Rowena?” Godric bluntly questioned Salazar. The hand gripping Salazar’s goblet clenched, knuckles turning white.

“I made a mistake,” Salazar said hollowly.

“You should talk to Minerva about it, though – Rowena does not seem to be making an effort to hide her dislike of your bride, and I would hate for Minerva to think that you did not care enough about the survival of your marriage to confide in her its greatest threat.”

Salazar nodded, then drained his goblet. “All right – I will talk to her.”
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Rowena sat at her desk, pulling an enchanted crystal globe towards her. The moons and stars revolved around the various planets, and she immediately determined when the next blue moon would occur – in July, just over five months from now. Well, she could wait. In the meantime, she would begin by subtly planting the seeds that would weaken, and ultimately destroy, the foundations of Salazar’s marriage.

This plan would work. She would make it work.
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Professor Dippet stood up from his place at the High Table and tapped a knife gently against his glass to gather the students’ attention. Performing the Sonorus charm, he began to speak.

“Students, professors, staff, it is with much sadness and concern that I bring your attention to a grave and serious matter: our Head Girl, Miss McGonagall, has disappeared.”

Gasps could be heard throughout the hall. Though Minerva had not had many close friends, she was someone who was respected by many. Two faces, however, showed absolutely no reaction at all, despite the emotions whirling through them at that moment. Those two were Albus Dumbledore… and Tom Riddle, the Head Boy.

For some time, Albus had suspected Tom of opening the Chamber of Secrets and using the beast within to kill a girl, though he never had any proof. He was aware, however, of Tom’s infatuation with Minerva, and, though he did not trust him, Albus did not believe that Tom had something to do with her appearance. If he had, surely he would have shown even the slightest hint of gloating – especially as his cronies at the Slytherin table were not showing her the least amount of respect. But Tom… Tom tried to keep a blank face. No, while Albus did think Tom guilty of opening the Chamber, he did not believe he was complicit in Miss McGonagall’s disappearance. Then who was?

Dippet continued after the noise had died down. “If anyone has any suspicions about the events leading to Miss McGonagall’s disappearance, or any idea of her whereabouts at the present time, please speak with either me or Professor Dumbledore. Thank you.”

As Dippet resumed his seat, two pairs of eyes locked together. Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore held each other’s gaze for a moment, before silently acknowledging a truce. The most important thing, they had wordlessly agreed, was finding Minerva. Their vendetta could wait.
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Minerva was undressing for bed, changing into one of Salazar’s nightshirts, when he walked over to her and gently took her hand, leading her to the bed. He sat down on the edge, pulling her down beside him, and said, “We need to talk.”

Chills ran through Minerva’s spine as she took in her husband’s tense posture, his closed eyes, and his guilty tone. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before replying, “Yes, Salazar?”

“I am not sure how much you have figured out for yourself, but…” he took a deep breath as well. This would be harder than he expected. “…but I had been courting Rowena for some time last year – and I even proposed marriage to her, but she rejected me.”

Minerva relaxed, sighing in relief. “Oh, is that all?” she asked him lightly.

He looked at her strangely. “You are not angry?”

She laughed lightly. “Of course not! I am glad that you told me, however, but I had gathered from the way Rowena had treated me that you two had been in a more intimate relationship. And, besides – we have known each other but five days! And while we have dreamt of the other, and gotten to know each other, obviously there will be some things that we will discover about each other!”

Salazar let out the breath he had not even realised he had been holding, and relaxed, tension seeping out of his body. He fell back against the bed and pulled Minerva down on top of him. He began to nuzzle her neck as he tugged at the bottom of the nightshirt she had borrowed from him.

“…Mmm, you are so wonderful, my darling, my dearest, my wife…” he murmured as he moved lower, licking and sucking the tops of her breasts. She moaned, raising her arms above her head, allowing him to toss the nightshirt on the floor. She then moved her hands to the buttons holding his robes together, finally uttering a spell to Banish them, frustrated with her inability to release the buttons covering his erection as it strained against the tented fabric.

He groaned as she began to caress his erection, and as she straddled him, he could not breathe as he watched her sink onto him.

“Oh, gods, Salazar,” she cried out, beginning to move up and down on him. Her hands splayed across his chest, her hair down about her shoulders, her eyes closed and her head thrown back in ecstasy… he had never seen a more erotic or breathtaking sight.

“Oh, Minerva,” he heard himself groan as she began to come, still rising and falling on top of him. He pulled her down to him and captured her lips with his own, then rolled her onto her back, beginning to pump into her in earnest.

“Salazar!” she cried as she came again, this time with him following. They collapsed, exhausted, and drifted off to sleep, still joined.
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Rowena stared into the cheval glass that showed her whatever she requested, and watched as Salazar and his wife lay utterly exhausted after making love. She did not think that she could bear five more months of this…
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The next morning, Helga and Minerva met outside the main doors of the castle in preparation for their trip to London.

“How are we travelling to London, Helga?” Minerva asked, not aware of the type of transport used in this era.

“We are going to Apparate – do they still have Apparition in your time?” Helga questioned her.

“Oh, yes, and I do know how to Apparate – although I am not entirely sure of where we are travelling,” Minerva confessed anxiously.

“That’s perfectly fine – I had planned on taking you by Side-Along Apparition – is that all right?”

“Of course,” Minerva responded, grasping Helga’s extended arm tightly.

“Ready? Just concentrate on Grimalkin’s Tailors,” Helga told her.

They landed outside of a small, neat shop with “Grimalkin’s Tailors” carved into the stone façade of the building. The small road where the shop was located was bustling; witches and wizards mingled freely, exchanged snatches of gossip, and window-shopped. Not too different from Diagon Alley, Minerva thought fondly, although a pang of homesickness hit her.

“Here we are, then!” Helga said cheerfully, opening the door to the shop. The two women stepped inside and were immediately greeted by a small, plump man wearing tiny, round spectacles.

“Good day, Lady Hufflepuff, and, I presume, Lady Slytherin?” the shopkeeper bowed, ushering them into a private fitting room near the back of the surprisingly large store.

“Hello, Mr. Grimalkin,” Helga told the man, “We need a complete wardrobe for Lady Slytherin – undergarments, everyday robes, formal robes, a few Muggle dresses, and shoes, as well.”

“Splendid, splendid,” Mr. Grimalkin murmured. “Now, Lady Slytherin, may I trouble you to stand right here, please?” he indicated a spot in front of a large oval mirror. “Thank you. My wife will be here shortly to take your measurements, while I gather the few clothes I have made according to the approximate measurements you have sent me, Lady Hufflepuff. Please excuse me,” he bowed out of the room, and a small, plump woman with greying brown hair stepped in.

“Pleased to see you again, Lady Hufflepuff, and pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Slytherin,” Mrs. Grimalkin curtsied. “Now, Lady Slytherin, do you mind removing your outer robes?”

Minerva, looking to Helga for approval, removed them, feeling quite naked in only the thin under-robe Helga had Transfigured for her that morning.

The efficient Mrs. Grimalkin finished her measurements extraordinarily quickly, and Minerva was told that she could put back on her robes. As soon as she was dressed, Mr. Grimalkin returned, carrying a pile of clothes so high that he could not see over it.

“The measurements you sent us were perfect, Lady Hufflepuff,” Mr. Grimalkin said, his words muffled by the stack of clothes in his arms. “All of these should fit perfectly. Would you care to try them on now, Lady Slytherin?”

Helga and Minerva exchanged a glance, and Minerva shook her head slightly.

“No, thank you, Mr. Grimalkin,” Helga replied, “I do believe that they will be perfectly adequate. Do these all carry your standard adjustment charms?”

Mr. Grimalkin nodded, the entire pile of clothes slowly moving up and down with the motion of his head. “Yes, they do, Lady Hufflepuff.”

“Splendid! Would it be too much trouble for them to be wrapped up?” Helga asked him.

“No trouble at all, Lady Hufflepuff, Lady Slytherin,” Mr. Grimalkin replied deferentially. “Just a moment!” He exited the room, walking slowly backwards in order not to drop the clothes.

“He made all of those in one night?” Minerva asked Helga incredulously.

“Two nights, actually,” Helga replied, laughing at her startled expression. “Do they not use magic in clothes in your time?”

Minerva cocked her head to one side. “I have no idea,” she admitted. “I do not suppose I ever thought about it!”

Helga and Minerva chuckled, calming themselves when Mr. Grimalkin entered again, this time, carrying a small tapestry bag, which he presented to Minerva.

“Your wardrobe, Lady Slytherin,” he said with a bow, holding out the bag, which, Minerva could see, was embroidered with two serpents entwined, forming an S and its reflection.

“Whenever one of your garments needs mending, you can place it in this bag, and it will send it back to us,” Mr. Grimalkin said by way of explanation. “We return the repaired garment to you the same way. Now, however, it holds your wardrobe; and when you return to your home and remove the clothes, the bag will convert to the object I have just described.”

Minerva smiled. This was such an ingenious idea! She would have to question Mr. Grimalkin about the charms used on these bags – but not now. Perhaps Helga would know.

“Thank you,” she replied graciously. Mr. Grimalkin returned her smile.

“Oh – shoes!” he exclaimed, slapping himself on the forehead lightly. “We forgot the shoes!”

Several hours later, Minerva had received another bag with the same embroidery, this one for her shoes. At last, Helga and Minerva had paid for her new wardrobe and thanked the Grimalkins’ profusely.

“Are you ready to return to Hogwarts?” Helga asked Minerva.

“Oh, yes! While that was a most exciting trip, I am completely exhausted!” Minerva sighed. “Thank you for accompanying me, Helga.”

“I was glad to! Here, grab onto my arm, and we can Apparate back. Are you ready?” Helga asked.

Minerva nodded. Pop! They arrived at the front gates of Hogwarts.
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[Junora]

*squeal* an update, an update, ooohhh just wonderful, XD
I can't wait till the next chapter.

my, Rowena is " ein altes Ekel" so jealous. ;p

But like always I just love your stories.

Big hug Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Perfect Woman

Chapter Seven: Promises as Sweet

A/N: Another lemon in this chapter, so be warned! Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers - especially Junora - I really appreciate it!
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A countenance, in which did meet

Sweet records, promises as sweet
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Rowena watched Helga and the girl laugh and chat with each other as they purchased a new wardrobe for the girl. She felt a pang of regret when looking upon Helga’s cheerful face – how long had it been since she and her friend had laughed like that? She pushed that question from her mind – she and Helga could be spending more time together if only that awful girl was not jeopardising Helga’s every waking moment – at least, every moment Helga had not already promised to Godric.

She turned away from the glass – she did not want to watch that girl any longer. She should work on her plan, make sure everything is perfect, and that everything will go according to plan…
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Salazar and Godric were riding through the grove on the western side of the castle.

“When do you plan on marrying Helga?” Salazar asked as they walked their horses around the perimeter of the grove.

“We have decided on next week, on Sunday,” Godric responded, “Will you Bind us?”

“Of course,” Salazar replied, “Besides, I am indebted to you – this will balance the scale!”

The two men laughed as their horses picked up the pace, setting off around the castle at a brisk trot.
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Helga and Minerva arrived at the front gates of Hogwarts, and were greeted by Salazar, Godric, and their horses.

“Hello, my lady,” Godric said, taking Helga’s hand and bending down to kiss it. Salazar also took Minerva’s hand, but swung her up onto the saddle in front of him. She gasped in surprise, though she settled comfortably back into his embrace as he wrapped an arm tightly around her waist.

“How did you enjoy your outing, my lady?” Salazar asked his wife, nuzzling the small bit of tender skin that peeked out from beneath her heavy winter robes.

She shifted back, wiggling her hips, and placed a hand teasingly on his knee as he groaned softly. “It was quite exciting, my lord, though I wish you could have accompanied us as well.”

“Perhaps next time, my sweet, next time,” he said, breathing in her scent.

Helga and Godric watched the sight with amusement.

“You should show Salazar your new wardrobe, Minerva,” Helga suggested.

“Oh, aye, Salazar – I do believe you will like it,” Minerva said.

Godric leaned down and whispered something in Helga’s ear, causing the witch to giggle and blush slightly.

“Why don’t you ride back up to the castle but leave your horse at the main doors?” Godric suggested. “Helga and I would like to go for a brief ride.”

Salazar agreed easily, and he and Minerva set off for the castle. Godric then swung Helga up into his saddle as well, following behind them.
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Dismounting, Salazar tied the reins loosely to the post outside of the main doors and then gathered Minerva into his arms and swung her out of the saddle. Helping her adjust her heavy furs, they entered the castle and quickly made their way to their rooms.

“I am glad that you enjoyed your outing, my lady,” Salazar whispered in her ear. “I missed you all day, though.”

Minerva smiled. “Is that why you were waiting for me then?” He stopped and glared at her, causing her to giggle. Laughing, she tapped him lightly on the nose. “I am just teasing you, husband – I missed you too!”

His deep chuckle caused her to shiver, her knees growing weak. He noticed her faltering step and moved his arm from where it was under her elbow to around her waist.

“My darling, are you all right?” he asked her, the concern in his eyes causing her heart rate to increase. Oh, how she loved this man…

“I am fine, Salazar, just… overwhelmed, I suppose, with my good fortune at being here with you, being your wife, having you love me… I am just so grateful.”

Salazar bent down and kissed her lips lightly. “Oh, my dearest, my darling, my own love,” he whispered softly, “You have no idea how lucky I feel to have you here with me.” Their lips met again, and again, until Minerva finally pulled away.

“Let’s go to our rooms, darling,” she whispered, her skin flushed, her heart pounding.

He nodded, and scooped her up into his arms, walking quickly to their chambers.

Mercifully, their chambers were only a corridor away, although that corridor had never seemed so long. As they entered their rooms, Minerva dropped the bags containing her wardrobe, and Salazar immediately began unwrapping her from her furs.

“I need you, I need you,” he murmured, kissing every inch of exposed flesh as her outer robes dropped to the floor. She toed off her shoes, and he did the same, dropping his cloak on the floor as well. He had worn Muggle clothes for riding, and, instead of bothering with unfamiliar fastenings, he whispered a spell that left them both completely nude.

“You are so beautiful, my love,” he whispered as he approached her, “So beautiful…”

She blushed at his words, touched not only by the words themselves but also by the tenderness and love present in them. She opened her arms to him, and he stepped into her embrace, meeting her lips with his own again, and again.

They fell back against the bed, Salazar making his way down her body, not yet taking the time to fully learn her body – not now, at least, when they were both so ready – and kissed her stomach once before making his way back up to her mouth. She took his erection in her hand and slowly guided him into her – moaning as he filled her completely, satisfying her to the most imaginable degree, and he reached the pinnacle of pleasure with her.
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Godric and Helga trotted towards the stables, their horses close together as they held hands.

“Salazar has agreed to perform the Bonding Ceremony next week, my dear,” Godric told her, squeezing her hand lightly.

Helga smiled in joy. “Oh, I am so glad! I cannot wait to become Lady Gryffindor, Godric!”

“And I cannot wait for you to become Lady Gryffindor as well, my dear,” he replied, bringing her hand to his lips. “The hours between now and our Bonding will seem an eternity.”
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Albus Dumbledore was once again examining the shelf of books where Minerva’s belongings had been found. As he examined the bottom shelf, he came upon a gap in the row of books. He walked over to Madame Pince’s desk to ask her about it.

“No, there are no books missing from that shelf,” Madame Pince told him, “Although I do not know why there is a gap in the middle…”

Albus thanked her and made his way back to his office. Madame Pince was an eminently organised woman, and if she said there was not a book missing from that shelf, then there was not. But why would there be a gap in the middle…

Something must have been there – but what?

“I do believe that is an essential piece to the puzzle, Fawkes,” Albus spoke aloud. His phoenix chirped tiredly before tucking his head under his wing again. Albus barely noticed – his mind was too wrapped up in trying to solve the mystery of Minerva’s disappearance. What could have happened to her? Where could she be?
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At dinner that night, Rowena made an announcement. “I plan on leaving tomorrow for the Aerie,” she told the table.

Helga’s countenance was crushed. “Can you not delay your departure a week, Rowena? I do so want you here for my wedding!”

Rowena pushed away the guilt she felt at Helga’s heartbroken expression. “I am sorry, Helga, but there are some matters that just cannot wait. It is of the utmost importance that I return to the Aerie as soon as possible. I am sorry.”

“I hope that nothing is wrong, Rowena,” Salazar said stiffly.

“Nothing to concern yourself with, Salazar,” she replied, her tone equally tense.

“All right, then,” Godric told her, disappointment and disapproval etched in the very lines of his face. “If you must…”

Rowena nodded briskly and rose from the table. “If you all will excuse me, I have to pack,” she told them, not waiting for their approval before exiting the Great Hall. Only the sound of her shoes clicking across the stone floors made any noise.

Rowena smiled grimly. Thankfully all four of them had bought her excuse, though she really did need to return to the Aerie. There were certain Grimoires with spells and potions recipes that she needed for her plan to work. It was beneficial that she would not need to suffer through another marriage ceremony…

She finished gathering her necessary belongings together before placing powerful locking charms on her private library. She did not want anyone snooping amongst her things during her absence. She would place even more powerful locking charms on her chambers before she left in the morning. It would not do to have Salazar, Helga, Godric, or that girl discover her plans…
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A knock sounded at the door. “Come in!” Professor Dumbledore called, and the door swung open. “Ah, Tom. Thank you for joining me on such short notice.”

Albus rose from his seat and walked around his desk. “I would offer you a seat, but I would like to ask your opinion of something. Would you follow me, please?”

Tom obeyed his request without question, following the tall, auburn-haired professor as they walked through the halls. Tom was somewhat surprised when they reached the library, and was confused when Albus led him down the aisles of books before stopping at a specific shelf.

“Now, Tom,” Albus began, “I know that we do not trust each other, but I will endeavour to be completely honest with you in the matter of Miss McGonagall’s disappearance, as long as you afford me the same courtesy. Agreed?”

Tom thought it over for a moment, before softly uttering his consent. He would do anything to get his Minerva back…

“Madame Pince found Miss McGonagall’s belongings in front of this bookcase on Monday morning. Do you notice anything odd about this bookcase?” Tom stepped closer, carefully examining each shelf until he reached the last one. He straightened up and pointed at the gap in the lowest level.

“There’s a book missing there, sir,” Tom told Albus.

“Precisely. And, according to Madame Pince, there is no book missing from that shelf.”

“Then why the gap?” Tom asked Albus. “In Hogwarts, A History, it says that the library shelves are enchanted to only have a gap where there is a book missing. That way it is easier to magically re-shelve and locate books.”

“That, Tom,” Albus told him sombrely, “Is the problem.”

[kissofdeath]

ooh, just found this story and totally loving it. please keep going.

[dianahawthorne]

Perfect Woman

Chapter Eight: Not Too Bright or Good

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A/N: Yes, another lemon in this chapter - hope you enjoy, if that's your thing, and if it's not, then I hope you enjoy the rest of the chapter!

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A creature not too bright or good

For human nature’s daily food
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The evening of Helga and Godric’s Binding had arrived, and three figures stood in the Great Hall: Salazar, wearing the same green silk robes trimmed with cloth-of-silver he had worn for his wedding; Godric, also wearing the same red velvet robes with the cloth-of-gold trim; and Minerva, wearing cloth-of-silver robes with green trim.

The ceremony began remarkably the same, although Salazar stood between Godric and Minerva. When he waved his wand and opened the doors, Godric’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of his bride. In his eyes, she was much more beautiful than Minerva: her golden hair caught the dying sunlight, and it seemed as though she was an angel, clad as she was in flowing white robes.

Salazar waved his wand over the couple’s entwined hands, and they shared a kiss. Feeling bereft, he pulled his own wife into his embrace, and she met his lips with her own, before resting her head on his shoulder.

This time, Salazar and Minerva enchanted the instruments to play several waltzes, and they pretended not to notice the newly wed couple’s quick disappearance before the second waltz had ended. After all, they had quickly left their own wedding a week ago.

Salazar held Minerva gently in his arms as they danced slowly to the music still wafting through the air. She looked up into his eyes, still amazed at the love they held.

“I love you, Salazar,” she whispered to him, basking in the warm glow of his smile. “I love you so.”

He nuzzled her hair. “I love you too, Minerva.”

No words were necessary as he waved his wand at the enchanted instruments, ceasing their music. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he bent down and lifted her, and they made their way quietly back to their rooms.


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Rowena was pleased to find everything in order at the Aerie. She quickly made her way to the library, where, after performing several rituals to allow her access to the more – dangerous – books, she gathered the books she needed for her plan to succeed.

She planned to cast a series of spells upon Salazar, which, when the first one was cast, would begin to transfer Salazar’s feelings for his wife to Rowena. The second spell would make their transfer permanent. The spells were most effective when cast within a month, each spell cast on the eve of a full moon. This June, when there would be two full moons that month, would ensure that none of Salazar’s affections for his wife would be directed at her, but at Rowena.

Rowena had chosen these particular spells because she did not want her reputation with Helga and Godric, not to mention everyone else, to be damaged. These spells would ensure that Salazar would pursue her, and that he would abandon his wife. She would not be seen as seducing him, because he would be the one to come to her.

Eventually, Rowena hoped, the girl would beg to be sent back to her own time, which, of course, Rowena would happily do. If she did not, though, Salazar had many estates where he could sequester an unwanted, burdensome wife.

If all went according to plan, Salazar may even ask Rowena to send the girl back to her own time. She hoped that she would – it would make her revenge even sweeter. After all, he would not want to have to worry about the girl once he was in love with Rowena – she thought that he would see the wisdom in returning her to her own time once she performed the spells to transfer his affection to her. How could he not?


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Three Months Later


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It was now the end of May, and almost time for the Leaving Feast. Albus and Tom had come no closer to finding out where Minerva had disappeared to, or where she was currently. Despite their combined efforts in researching the missing book, the mystery was still unsolved.

After spending many hours in each other’s company, their tentative truce and cooperation had grown into a somewhat companionable friendship. Because Tom had dedicated his spare time in attempting to find Minerva, his ‘group’ of friends had scattered. And despite Tom’s now unlimited access to the Restricted Section, he had lost interest in researching Horcruxes. Immortality did not matter to him anymore when the reason he never wanted to die was gone.

Armando Dippet congratulated Albus on overcoming his ‘irrational’ prejudice against Tom.

“Miss McGonagall’s disappearance turned out for the best, then,” Dippet said the night before the Leaving Feast. “After all, you and Tom are quite close now.”

Albus had risen from his seat, cold fury emanating from him. “Her disappearance, while I will admit has made Tom and I closer, was not all-in-all a beneficial thing,” Albus thundered. “A student is missing, Armando – and not just any student, but the Head Girl and one of the brightest minds to pass through Hogwarts in centuries! Do not say that her disappearance turned out for the best!” Albus stormed out of the room, leaving a stunned Headmaster behind.

Albus had offered Tom an apprenticeship in Transfiguration with him after his graduation, which Tom accepted, much to the dismay of Horace Slughorn, who had his own designs on Tom. Albus and Tom, however, ignored the man’s pleas to consider a post at the Ministry of Magic. Tom had his own reasons for staying at Hogwarts, and they involved Minerva.

One day, browsing through Albus’s ample library, Tom came upon a Muggle book filled with artwork from the Middle Ages. Feeling strangely drawn to it, he opened the book and began to study the artwork contained within. The thick tome slipped from his suddenly nerveless hands, though, as he came across one painting.

Albus rushed into the room upon hearing the loud thud, and came upon the odd sight of Tom, pale-faced and trembling, staring at a Muggle book that lay open on the floor.

“Tom?” Albus asked him, without receiving a response. “Tom?” he repeated, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Tom did not meet his eyes, but simply pointed at the painting displayed in the book. As he bent down to take a closer look at the image, he gasped.

The Muggle painting displayed was found in the ruins of a Scottish castle presumed to date from approximately 1000 A.D. According to the book, the painting was in almost perfect condition, which was attributed to the painting being found in an underground room, one that had been perfectly preserved. The painting was on display in the London National Gallery.

“Tom,” Albus’s voice sounded strange even to his own ears. “Get changed into Muggle clothes and meet me in the Entrance Hall in ten minutes. We are going to London."

Ten minutes later, Tom was neatly dressed in nondescript black trousers and a dark green oxford shirt. Albus was waiting for him, wearing a pair of khaki trousers and a blue oxford shirt. He had shortened his beard and hair as well.

“Where in London are we going, Albus?” Tom said, as they strode towards the main gates.

“Did you not see the footnote at the bottom of the page? It said the painting hung in the London National Gallery.”

Tom nodded, showing his comprehension, and they said no more until they arrived at the gates.

“Hold onto my arm, Tom,” Albus instructed, and he did so. Albus Apparated them both into a men’s restroom in the London National Gallery.

Five minutes later, they were seated on a bench in front of the painting Tom had seen in the book.

“It is her, then?” Tom asked Albus, both of them still staring at the picture.

“Yes, it is. I do not believe there is any doubt in that fact.” Albus replied.

They both took in the painting. It depicted a dark-haired girl of about seventeen years, seated on a low stool, embroidering an ornate serpent in the shape of an S. The serpent’s eyes seemed to glitter, and there was a wedding band on the girl’s left hand. Despite the unfamiliar clothing and odd setting, the features of the girl were unmistakeably Minerva’s.

Before returning to Hogwarts, Albus stopped by the gift shop of the National Gallery and purchased a reproduction of the painting. They Apparated back to Hogwarts, and returned to Albus’s study.

Seating themselves, Albus called a house elf for some firewhiskey. He felt as though they needed the extra strength to deal with this new revelation.

“I presume that Minerva has travelled to the Founders’ time, and is still present in the castle,” Albus stated after taking a sip of his firewhiskey. Tom, who had been in the midst of swigging down his own glass, spluttered at his statement.

“Still present in the castle?” Tom choked out, trying to wipe the firewhiskey from his clothing. “What gave you that idea?”

Albus pulled the reproduction of the painting out of his pocket and enlarged it, making it bigger than the actual version. He then pointed at the needlework that Minerva was embroidering.

“A snake,” Tom breathed. “Salazar Slytherin’s symbol…” His mind whirled with that new fact.

“How can we get her back?” Tom asked Albus, who suddenly looked years older.

“I am not sure,” Albus told him, rubbing his weary eyes. “I am not sure.”


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Helga had painted the portrait on a balmy April day while Godric and Salazar were out hunting. Helga never liked seeing the animals be killed, and Minerva had been plagued by bouts of nausea in the past weeks, so Salazar insisted that she stay at Hogwarts and rest. Helga volunteered with alacrity to keep Minerva company, as much because of her dislike for hunting as her now-strong friendship with Minerva.

It was on that day that Helga and Minerva discovered that she was two and a half months pregnant. Minerva was thrilled – though in her own time, seventeen was quite young to have children, in this era it was perfectly normal. She was overjoyed that she was carrying Salazar’s child, a perfect mix of her and her husband.

Minerva had suspected that she was pregnant for some time now, though she did not want to say anything until Helga had confirmed it. Helga, however, had concluded that Minerva was pregnant on her own – besides the bouts of morning sickness, which were obvious outward signs, Helga was a skilled Healer and had noticed other, more subtle clues, though she had been waiting for Minerva to approach her with her suspicions, rather than the other way around.

Helga had agreed to keep Godric occupied after dinner so that Minerva could tell Salazar about their joyous news. Both Helga and Minerva were full of giddy energy as they anxiously awaited their husbands’ return.

Finally, Godric and Salazar returned from hunting. Their wives’ enthusiastic greeting upon their return puzzled them both, although they did not question it. Both men did notice, however, the change in Minerva. She was walking more carefully, and she seemed to glow, as though a light was filling her and radiating out from her.

After dinner, Salazar and Minerva retired to their rooms to relax. They had changed into their nightwear and were curled up on top of the bed when Minerva took his hand in hers, placing it on her almost-indiscernibly curved stomach. He looked at her questioningly.

“Salazar,” she whispered, “I am with child.” He stared at her for a moment, stunned, before letting out a whoop and enfolding her into his arms. She curled up into his arms, tears streaming down her face as he held her tightly. Placing a finger under her chin, he noticed her tears and immediately was worried.

“Are you… unhappy with this revelation, my love?” he asked her gently, rubbing her back in circles.

“No,” she sobbed, though she was smiling. “I am so happy, so overwhelmed at all that I have… It just seems impossible that we can be so blessed…”

He kissed the top of her head, his hand drifting from her back to her abdomen. He began to rub her stomach gently, soothingly, and her sobs turned into hiccups as she relaxed in his arms, stretching out across the bed to provide him with better access. He began to lift up the hem of her nightgown, and she cooperated, lifting her arms above her head. He moved down her body, stopping at her abdomen, and placed a gentle kiss there.

“Our child…” he murmured, looking up at her in wonderment. “Our child…” She placed a gentle hand on his head and smiled down at him; he took her other hand and brought it down to her stomach, resting his hand on top of hers.

“Hello, baby,” Salazar whispered to her belly, lips gently caressing the skin as he talked to their child. “We love you so much, and we are anxiously waiting to meet you!”

She was becoming aroused, her undergarments growing damp as she felt his lips brush against the tender skin of her stomach. She tried, unsuccessfully, to restrain the urge to shift under his mouth; she moaned as he looked up at her with eyes darkened by desire.

“Mmm, Minerva…” he whispered as he levered himself off the bed. She could see his erection through his nightshirt, and she reached for him, but he gently shook his head. Reaching down, he removed her knickers and chemise before dropping them on the ground; he then lifted up his nightshirt and it joined her discarded clothing.

His erection was hard, full, and needy, and his cock twitched as she unconsciously licked her lips at the sight of him standing naked before her. As she opened her arms to him, he knelt on the bed, taking her hands in his, and held them above her head. Kissing her stomach lightly once again, he fondled her breasts gently with one hand before releasing her hands from his grip. She pulled him on top of her, looking at him questioningly when he rolled off her.

“I do not want to harm you or the baby, love,” he told her gently, brushing a stray hair out of her face. She nodded understandingly, and moved with him as he pulled her to his side. She spread her legs, draping one over his hips, and he entered her slowly, trapping her other leg between his. As they moved together, their passion mounted and released gently, leaving them both with a feeling of completeness.

[Junora]

Uuuuh Rowena you little, jealous...
I really hope that everything is going to be alright.

They are so sweet.
The story gets better with every new chapter. XD

Hugs Lottie

btw I wish you all the luck on earth for the exams.

[kissofdeath]

ooh, its getting very interesting.

you're really awesome w/ your updating. i wish i could be the same way *recalls the 4 other fics waiting to be finished*

You rock. dude!

[dianahawthorne]

Perfect Woman

Chapter Nine: Transient Sorrows

For transient sorrows, simple wiles,

Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

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Rowena returned to Hogwarts on the first of June, and was greeted at the gates by Salazar. Rowena had sent an owl ahead, saying that she planned to arrive on June first, and, as she had many things to bring up to the castle, she would appreciate it if either Salazar or Godric would meet her at the castle gates with a cart. She had bewitched the paper with a Compelling charm that would make Salazar insist that he be the one to meet Rowena at the gates. Although Godric and Helga were surprised by his vehemence at insisting that he meet Rowena, they agreed that he was trying to make amends and mend their broken friendship in order for the mood at the castle to be more cheerful. They had not forgotten their dream of opening a school, after all, and good relations between all of them were essential to fulfilling their dream.

Thus, it came to pass that Salazar met Rowena at the gates of Hogwarts upon her return. She had taken a Portkey back to the gates, and she stumbled as she landed, purposely twisting her ankle. Salazar leapt down from the cart and raced towards her side.

“Rowena, are you all right?” he asked her concernedly, bending down to help her up. “Are you injured?”

In fact, Rowena had cast a Pain-Blocking charm on her ankle immediately before Portkeying to Hogwarts, and she did not feel any pain, however, she moaned and clutched at her ankle.

“I think I sprained my ankle, Salazar,” she said, acting as though she were in real pain. Do you think that you could lift me into the cart?”

“Of course,” Salazar replied unthinkingly, and he bent down and lifted her into his arms as he so often lifted Minerva. He carried her over to the cart and gently placed her down on the front seat.

“Thank you, Salazar,” Rowena said. She motioned towards her baggage. “Do you suppose you could load these in the cart for me please? They are very delicate when exposed to magic, although they are not fragile, so I do not want to use Wingardium Leviosa. Do you mind terribly?” she looked at him from underneath long black lashes. He blinked several times, as though trying to rid himself of a spell, and nodded.

“Of course, Rowena,” he said, “It is no problem whatsoever.” He gently placed the bags in the back of the cart, and then climbed up onto the seat of the cart next to Rowena.

“Are you ready to go back up to the castle?” he asked her. She nodded. “I cannot wait to see Helga and Godric again? How are they? And how is your wife?” she asked excitedly. It had taken her many days of practice in front of a mirror to be able to ask after that girl with a cheerful expression and tone. Judging by the surprised, yet pleased, look on his face, her practices had paid off.

“Godric and Helga are both fine and very happy together. Helga looked lovely in her wedding robes, though she is still sad that you could not be there. And Minerva is fine as well – did you know that she is now about four months with child?”

Rowena congratulated herself internally on her self-control. “No, I did not know that. How wonderful!”

Salazar smiled warmly at her, and patted her knee lightly. “And how have you been? We all have missed you these past few months!”

She smiled when he touched her, and tucked away that moment for when she would need to keep a smile on her face. “I have been fine. There was quite a lot of work to be done at the Aerie, and I found many books, scrolls, and the like that will benefit our library.”

He looked at her and returned her smile. “Well, we are all glad that you are back.”

They were about one-quarter of the way to the castle, and Rowena thought that it was now time for the next part in her plan. Looking straight ahead, she reached out with her magic and felt along the path for a large stone. Finding it, she wandlessly and wordlessly moved it directly in front of their cart. Crack! The cart tipped over to one side.

“Oh, no!” Rowena cried, feigning shock at the accident. The cart had tipped so that she had fallen onto Salazar, just as she had planned. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, before Salazar shook his head and realised what happened.

“Are you all right, Rowena?” he asked her worriedly.

“Yes, of course,” she replied, “Are you?” He nodded.

“Here, let me lift you out of this wreckage,” Salazar said, bending down and lifting her up again. He then placed her gently on the ground away from the broken cart.

He began looking at the damage done to the cart, which was extensive – the axle connecting the front wheels had snapped, and the damage was irreparable even with the aid of magic. The only thing that could fix it was a completely new axle. Defeated, he sat down next to Rowena.

“Well, I suppose we could tie the bags on the horse and I could carry you back to the castle,” Salazar said at last. “That is, if you do not have a better idea.”

“Well, I suppose that you could ride back to the castle and get another cart, and I could wait here…” she trailed off. Rowena had carefully calculated this suggestion, for she knew that his noble upbringing would never allow him to leave a lady in distress.

Salazar shook his head. “No, you are injured and something could harm you whilst I was getting a replacement cart; besides, I would never abandon a lady. And my idea will be perfectly adequate. It is a pity that neither of us is prodigious at healing spells, or else we could fix your ankle. As it is, I do not want to attempt to heal it and accidentally botch the spell, or discover that it is in fact not a sprain but a fracture, and thus have made the complaint worse. No, we will load the horse with your bags and I will carry you back – we can go as slowly as necessary.”

Rowena had to exercise her self-control while he was debating with himself over their options – she had always found him irresistible when he was passionately arguing something. She brought her emotions back under control as she watched him tie her bags carefully onto the horse. He used magic to lengthen the rein, and held it in one hand as he walked over to Rowena, the horse obediently following behind him. Bending down, he once more lifted Rowena in his arms and adjusted his grip on the reins, before beginning to walk the remaining three miles to Hogwarts.


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It had been two hours after midday when Salazar had departed to bring Rowena back to the castle, as she was expected to arrive by Portkey a half-hour later. By five o’clock in the evening, however, Salazar and Rowena had not returned. Minerva had spent the last two hours curled up in a chair on the veranda, waiting for Salazar to return. Godric came out to join her.

“They are still not back?” he asked Minerva, and chuckled when she jumped at the sound of his voice. “I am sorry, Minerva, I did not mean to startle you. Helga sent me out with some tea and a bit of a snack for you. She is worried that you are becoming overwrought and made me promise that I would make sure that you ate every bite.”

Minerva looked at the tray Helga had prepared for her and smiled wanly up at him. Helga had prepared slices of freshly-baked bread, cheese, and some fresh fruits, including Minerva’s favourite strawberries that grew in the special garden Helga tended daily. She had also included a goblet full of milk, though she knew Minerva was not very fond of that beverage. Godric chuckled again as she wrinkled her nose at the goblet, before picking it up and quickly drinking it down. Showing him the empty goblet, she laughed along with him; though her laughter soon faded as she looked back at the horizon once more.

“Do not worry about Salazar, Minerva,” Godric told her. “Knowing Rowena, her Portkey was most likely late, and the belongings that she brought back with her from the Aerie probably weighed the poor horse down so much that he cannot go much faster than a snail.”

Minerva sighed and nodded, choosing a ripe strawberry from the bowl in front of her and beginning to eat it, closing her eyes and relishing its sweet taste. She hoped that Salazar was all right…

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Salazar and Rowena were laughing as they sat under a shady tree, giving his arms a rest from carrying her. It was a hot day, and it seemed as though both Salazar and Rowena were perspiring more than usual. In fact, it was the result of a Warming charm Rowena had placed on both of them.

Salazar had already removed his outer robes, stowing them with Rowena’s bags, but he was still sweltering in the Muggle clothes he had worn beneath them. Rowena’s face was flushed, and both their hair was damp from their perspiration.

“Salazar, would you mind awfully if I stripped down to my under-robe?” Rowena asked innocently, “The heat today is just beastly.”

Salazar shook his head. “I hope you do not mind if I shed my tunic as well, then,” he replied.

“Of course not! It would only be fair,” Rowena replied coyly. “Would you mind helping me up?” Salazar rose from his position against the tree trunk and helped Rowena to stand. Once she was sure that she had a firm hold on a sturdy branch, she asked, “And would you mind unfastening the hooks on my outer robe? I am afraid that I cannot do that with only one hand. Salazar nodded, and brought his hands to the front of her robes, beginning to unfasten them. Mercifully, it was quickly done, and he assisted her in removing her robe. He then draped both garments on the horse’s back, before turning to her to ask if she was ready to leave. The words died in his throat as he took in her appearance.

Shaking his head – you have a wife! – he asked her if she was ready to depart. She nodded her acquiescence, and they began again.

The sun had set by the time Rowena and Salazar came into view; their persons dishevelled, their hair mussed, their clothes thrown over the back of the horse… Godric took one look at the sight in front of him and angrily strode out to meet them.

“Where have you been?” Godric demanded furiously as he reached the pair. Salazar blinked at the light that flared from Godric’s wand, brightly illuminating the area.

“Hello, Godric,” Rowena greeted him. “Where is Helga?”

Godric turned to Salazar. “Helga is attending to your wife, who worked herself into such a state that she needed to be given a sleeping potion in her drink in order for her not to accidentally harm herself or the baby. I will ask you two again – where have you been?”

Salazar began to explain. “Well, the axle of the cart broke, and the objects in Rowena’s bags would have been damaged if we shrunk them, so we loaded up the horse and I carried Rowena back.”

Godric bit back a nasty retort, limiting himself to the comparatively mild, “That does not explain your current state of undress – or the reason you are carrying Rowena.”

Salazar flushed slightly, and opened his mouth to snap at Godric, but Rowena patted his bare chest soothingly, and he relaxed – an action that did not go unnoticed by Godric.

“I sprained my ankle when my Portkey arrived, though Salazar and I both thought it best not to attempt to heal it as it may be broken, and neither of us are any great shakes at healing. And we grew overheated as we walked back to Hogwarts, and relieved ourselves of some of our clothes.”

Godric sneered disbelievingly at them. “Why did you not put a splint on Rowena’s ankle and cast a pain-blocking charm on it? That way she could have walked back without injuring her ankle any further. And why did you not cast a Cooling charm instead of discarding your clothes? You also could have put Rowena on the horse and carried the bags back yourself – or you could have left the bags there and ridden back with Rowena, fetched me and another cart, and then we could have fetched the bags. You could even have cast a Featherlight charm on the bags themselves and both ridden back – not the contents, I know, you said that they were sensitive to magic – but a Featherlight charm on the bags should not have affected the contents if taking them by Portkey did not.”

Salazar’s flush grew deeper. “We did not think of that.”

“Of course not,” Godric replied scornfully. Before their argument could continue, Rowena interrupted.

“Godric, can we please just continue this inside. I am tired – and I am sure that Salazar is too – and my ankle is hurting. Can we talk this over in the morning please? And can you fetch Helga to heal my ankle?”

Godric scoffed at her request, though he reluctantly led them to the common room before going to fetch Helga.

“I am sorry that Godric was angry at us, Salazar,” Rowena said, pretending to cry. “I am so sorry that I got you into so much trouble…” here she dissolved into storms of false tears. Salazar put his arms around her to comfort her, and she turned towards him, burying her face in his chest.

“Shh, it’s all right, Rowena,” Salazar said soothingly, stroking her hair. “It’s all right…”

Helga and Godric, standing in the shadows outside of the room, saw the entire thing, and exchanged a sorrowful look before entering the room.

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Helga and Godric had insisted that Salazar sleep in the common room so he would not disturb his wife. Rowena crept out of her room once she was sure that everyone was asleep and made her way stealthily to the common room. She opened the door and walked inside, kneeling next to the Transfigured bed Salazar rested on.

“Amorus Transferas,” she whispered, pointing her wand at Salazar. A deep red thread appeared, leading out towards Salazar’s rooms, where the girl was sleeping. Rowena watched anxiously as the thread grew thinner, stopping just before it disappeared entirely. A pale rose coloured thread appeared next – it connected Rowena and Salazar. She watched, enraptured, as the thread grew deeper in colour. It was blood red before it began thickening, and then the threads completely faded from view.

Rowena carefully stood and made her way back to her rooms, though she was too exuberant to sleep. It had worked!

[Junora]

Uuuuh now you've done it.
I hate her, I really hate that bloody, jealous, interfering.... *scream*
I could..., I just..., aaaaaaahhhhhhh


But nevertheless the story as it is, is wonderful, you're just a bloody genius! XD
*bow low until face hits floor*

Big Hug Lottie

[kissofdeath]

omg, this story is so freaken awesome! please keep going!

[dianahawthorne]

Perfect Woman

Chapter Ten: Between Life and Death

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A/N: Thank you to all my loyal readers/reviewers - I really appreciate you all continuing to read the story! Also, I know that Minerva may seem a bit out of character at the end of the chapter, but please remember that she's in a vulnerable state - and also, she's still a teenager (only 17!) Tom might also seem out of character, but he is a different person than he is in the books (well, obviously, considering he and Dumbledore are friends )
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And now I see with eye serene

The very pulse of the machine

A being breathing thoughtful breath,

A traveller between life and death
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Salazar woke up as the early morning sun streamed into the room. Stretching, he rose from his Transfigured bed, and a swish of his wand returned it to its original state as a bench. Sighing, he realised that Minerva was most likely not awake, and he therefore could not retrieve new clothes. He flicked his wand at the clothes he wore yesterday, casting a cleaning charm on his robes. He donned them before opening the door and exiting the common room, heading towards the Great Hall for breakfast.

Upon his arrival, the first thing he noticed was that there was another person awake. It was Rowena. Salazar was surprised at his body’s immediate reaction to seeing her, though, as he stared at her beauty, his thoughts grew less coherent.

Watching her, he knew that he had never seen anyone as beautiful as Rowena – her long, dark hair flowing freely down her back, her light robes draping gently across her curves, her flawless complexion glowing… He took a deep breath before stepping fully into the Great Hall. It would not do to act like a flustered child.

“Good morning, Rowena,” Salazar said, seating himself across the table from her.

Rowena looked up from under her dark lashes and smiled coyly at him. She had noticed his rather obvious gaping, and she was glad that the spell was working so well.

“Good morning, Salazar,” she replied, her voice taking on a seductive tone. “Did you get a good night’s rest?” She bit into a strawberry, the juice dripping down her chin. Salazar could not take his eyes off her and his desire, which had been mounting ever since he first laid eyes on her this morning, grew even more.

He continued to stare at her, transfixed, and he groaned when her tongue slipped out of her mouth to lap up the dripping strawberry juice. Rowena put on an expression of concern, rising from her seat and walking over to Salazar. She laid a gentle hand on his forehead, as though taking his temperature. He groaned again, louder this time, as her touch fanned the flames of his ardour.

“Are you all right, Salazar?” Rowena questioned, knowing perfectly well that he was aroused. “You feel… hot.”

At that final word, Salazar took her hand and pulled her onto his lap, allowing her to feel his aching arousal. “Gods, Rowena,” he moaned, “I love you. Feel what you do to me!” He then embraced her, bringing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss.

“Salazar!” a voice cried, before a thump was heard. Rowena and Salazar broke their passionate embrace and turned towards the sound. There they saw Helga, bending over an unconscious Minerva, who had obviously fainted from shock; and Godric, who was red-faced and angry, his hands clenched into fists. He walked savagely towards Salazar and punched him in the face. Rowena cried out as Salazar’s broken nose splattered blood everywhere. Godric gave him one last vengeful glare before turning back to Helga and Minerva, bending down and picking up Salazar’s wife, and bringing her to the hospital wing.

“Oh, darling,” Rowena cooed, extracting a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbing at his nose, “I am so sorry!”

Salazar nodded, wincing as the movement caused a fresh wave of pain to crash over him. After staunching the blood flow, Rowena took her wand and pointed it at Salazar’s nose. “Episkey,” she said, and his nose felt immediately better. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he gave her a deep kiss.

“I am sorry, Rowena,” Salazar told her solemnly.

“For what, darling?” she replied.

“For marrying that girl – I was never in love with her, only with you. She reminded me of you, and after you rejected me, I was so hurt that it seemed a good idea to marry her, especially as she claimed to be in love with me.”

Rowena caressed his cheek tenderly. “I should be apologising, Salazar,” she said. “I turned down your offer of marriage, though I did only because I did not know what would happen to our dreams of a school if we got married. But I see know that I was wrong – and I would rather never open a school if I could be your wife.”

He pulled her towards him for another kiss, and another, before suddenly breaking away.

“Rowena, you found a way to send Minerva back, didn’t you?” he asked her.

She smiled. This was it. “Yes, I did, Salazar,” she replied.

“We can send her back to her own time, then!” he exclaimed delightedly. “Then we can wed.”

Her smile grew wider as she lovingly traced his profile with her finger. “All right,” she agreed readily, “When shall we send her back?”

“Today,” he replied, “The sooner, the better.”

He made as though to stand up, but Rowena kept a hand on his shoulder.

“Godric and Helga will not approve,” Rowena told him seriously. “And I do believe that they will be quite angry if we send her back.”

“We can send her back tonight, when they are sleeping,” he said, the ideas Rowena had planted in his mind sprouting from his lips. “After we send her back, we can Obliviate them, and everything will be as it was before.”

Rowena grinned. Everything was going according to plan.

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“…Minerva? Minerva, can you hear me?” A voice called Minerva out of her unconscious state, and her eyes fluttered open.

“Oh, good, she’s awake,” the same voice said.

“What happened?” Minerva managed to ask, her throat parched. A pair of hands helped her sit up, while another held a goblet of water to her lips. She greedily gulped the liquid down, and was able to open her eyes fully. She saw Helga and Godric standing over her.

“You fainted, Minerva,” Helga said, her wand out, casting diagnostic spells. “Luckily, you do not seem to be injured – just a bump on the head, that’s all – and the baby is fine.”

The baby. Salazar. Salazar kissing Rowena…

“Oh, gods,” Minerva moaned, covering her eyes with her hand. “Did Salazar really kiss Rowena?”

Godric and Helga exchanged a look, before Helga sat down on the edge of the bed. She smoothed down Minerva’s dishevelled hair. “Yes, it did, Minerva,” she said gently. “I am so sorry.”

She burst into sobs. “He told me that he loved me – me! – and not her! How could he do this to me? He lied to me! I love him! I am his wife!”

Helga comfortingly rubbed her back. “I am so sorry, Minerva,” she cooed, trying to calm her down. “I am so sorry…”

Godric stood behind Helga, resting a hand on her back, as she gently soothed Minerva.

“What will happen to me?” she asked dully.

“I am not sure, my dear,” Helga began, but Godric cut in.

“Whatever happens, we will be on your side,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she said.

Helga stroked Minerva’s hair. “Go to sleep, Minerva. Godric and I will figure something out.” Minerva nodded listlessly and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

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Once they were sure that Minerva was sleeping peacefully, Helga and Godric cast a Silencing charm over the surrounding area and began to discuss Minerva’s future.

“How dare he!” Helga fumed, her hands clenched into fists, her eyes flashing in anger. “How dare he to this to her!”

Godric embraced her, rubbing her back soothingly. “Shh, my love,” he whispered in her ear. “We’ll figure something out…”

She breathed in deeply, inhaling her husband’s scent. “I hope so,” she said, her words muffled by his robes. “I hope so.”

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Night fell, and finally Helga, Godric, and Minerva were asleep. Helga and Godric had retired to their rooms for the night, and Minerva remained in the hospital wing. It was the perfect time for their plan to unfold.

Rowena and Salazar slunk through the corridors, cautiously entering the hospital wing. After entering, Salazar performed a locking spell on the door.

“All right, Rowena,” he told her. She took out the book that had brought Minerva to the past and placed it under her hand. Taking out her wand, she began the incantations, and, with a flash of light, Minerva was gone. The book remained on the bed. She had altered the returning spell in order to ensure that the girl would never return to this time.

Salazar pulled Rowena into a passionate embrace, before she broke it.

“We must take care of Helga and Godric now,” she whispered. He nodded, and they exited the hospital wing as silently as they came.

They crept into Godric and Helga’s chambers and Stupefied them, in order to ensure no interruptions. Reaching into Helga’s mind, he extracted all memories of Minerva and whispered “Obliviate.” He repeated the procedure with Godric, before exiting with Rowena.

As soon as they reached the main hallway, Salazar scooped Rowena up in his arms. “We’ve done it!” he yelled, twirling her about. She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. Coming to a halt, he gently placed her on the ground and knelt at her feet.

“Rowena, will you marry me?” he asked her, producing a sapphire ring with diamonds on either side.

“Oh, yes!” she cried, flinging herself into his arms. He placed the ring on her finger and they kissed.

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Albus and Tom were still no closer to finding out a way to bring Minerva back to their own time and had begun to go through another book, when a house elf popped into the room.

“Professor Dumbledore and Mr. Riddle is needed now in the Hospital Wing!” it shrieked, before popping out of sight again. Tom and Albus leapt to their feet and raced to the Hospital Wing. They stopped dead as they saw who was lying on the bed.

“Minerva!” Tom cried, and tried to rush to her side. Dumbledore held him back.

“What happened, Madame Kerr?” Albus asked the nurse gravely.

“I honestly do not know!” the nurse replied, wringing her hands. “One moment I was making the beds, and the next moment she was here!”

Albus released Tom from his firm grip and the three of them walked to her bedside.

“Oh, my,” Albus murmured as he noticed her burgeoning stomach. “This does seem to be a problem.”

Madame Kerr finally snapped back into her ‘professional mode’. “Both of you – out!” she said, pointing to the exit. When they protested, she told them, “I need to give her a thorough examination – and I doubt that Miss McGonagall would appreciate you two seeing her in nothing but her underwear. I will send a house elf for you when I have finished.”

Tom felt a rush of desire thinking of Minerva in the stated form of undress, but quickly suppressed it as he and Albus made their way back to his library.

“At least we do not need to worry about finding a way to bring her back,” Tom told Albus, who nodded. They walked in silence the rest of the way back, both of them trying to absorb the revelation of Minerva’s obvious pregnancy.

Two hours later, the same house elf who originally summoned Albus and Tom to the Hospital Wing had reappeared, telling them that Minerva was awake and would like to see them. Once again, Albus and Tom quickly made their way to the Hospital Wing, where a sorrowful Minerva McGonagall greeted them.

She was sitting up in bed, the covers pooled just below her swollen stomach, which she unconsciously rubbed as she saw them.

“Hello Tom, Professor Dumbledore,” she nodded. It was all Tom could do to restrain himself from gathering her into his arms and kissing her. As it was, he tentatively approached her and took her hand, kissing it lightly. She flinched at his gesture, and looked away.

Albus Conjured two chintz armchairs for them, and they sat down, facing Minerva, who began to speak, still rubbing her belly.

“I am married to Salazar Slytherin and I am carrying his child,” she said bluntly, before bursting into tears. Albus and Tom sat there in shock.

Finally, Albus recovered his voice. “How did you get transported to the past, Minerva?” he asked her.

“I was looking for a copy of Moste Potente Potions and I spotted a dark blue covered book. I opened it, and I suppose it was a type of time Portkey. I woke up in the hospital wing in the time of the Founders, before they had established the school. Salazar and I felt drawn to each other right away, and we were Bonded less than a week later. You see, I had been dreaming of him for about six months before I was sent back in time, and I had fallen in love with him through my dreams. He and Rowena had been involved for a time, though, but they had not been when I appeared there.” Tears began to form in her eyes. “He said he loved me and not her, and he lied to me! He was in love with Rowena the entire time!” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. Tom reached out to her, trying to comfort his love who was in so much pain, and, to his surprise – and hers – she leaned willingly into his embrace, sobbing her heart out on his shoulder. So absorbed were they in each other that they did not notice Albus leave the room.

“Oh, Minerva,” Tom sighed, “I am so sorry this happened to you.” His hand, which had originally been rubbing her upper back, had slipped lower, hovering just above her buttocks. She looked up at him with tearstained eyes, and he felt another surge of arousal. She looked so beautiful when she was vulnerable…

Minerva placed her hand on his knee, squeezing it gently. “Thank you, Tom,” she whispered to him.

His hand unconsciously stroked her lower back, and she leaned further into his embrace.

“Tom?” she asked him questioningly. He looked down into her eyes.

“You’ve changed.” It wasn’t a question.

He nodded. “Minerva, when you disappeared, it felt as though a part of me had died. All I wanted was to get you back.”

“But why?” she asked, looking up at him.

He licked his lips. “Because I am in love with you,” he whispered softly. She raised one hand to his face.

“Oh, Tom,” she said, her touch enflaming his senses. “Oh, Tom…”

Hungrily, he bent down and kissed her, and she kissed him back. She pulled out of their kiss to look at him.

“Tom, I don’t think I can bear to be alone tonight,” she whispered. “Will you please stay with me?”

His heart melted at her request, asked so shyly, but with such a desperate need present in her voice. He kissed her again. “Of course I will.”

Kicking off his shoes, he Transfigured his clothes into a pair of pyjamas before waving his wand at the bed, causing it to expand in size. He leaned back against the headboard and she curled up into his arms.

“Thank you, Tom,” she whispered to him. He kissed her hair, relishing the feeling of her body against his.

“Good night, Minerva,” he whispered back. “I love you.”

[Junora]

OMG maybe I'm just emotional, but right now big tears are running down my face.
How could they do that to Min.

wonderful story
Big hug Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Perfect Woman

Chapter Eleven: Angelic Light


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A/N: This is the last chapter, everyone. I've really enjoyed this story, and I hope that you all have, too! Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers - especially Junora! Thank you all!
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The reason firm, the temperate will,

Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;

A perfect Woman, nobly plann'd,

To warn, to comfort, and command;

And yet a Spirit still, and bright

With something of angelic light.


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She felt warm and comfortable. A hand was rubbing her back gently, and Salazar’s arms were around her. She turned towards him, eyes still closed, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Mmm, Salazar, that feels lovely…” The hand ceased its motion and she reluctantly opened her eyes, only to find a hurt Tom Riddle gazing down at her. The events from the past two days came rushing back to her, and she began to cry.

“I’m sorry, Tom,” she sobbed into his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to hurt you too…”

He rubbed her back comfortingly. “It’s all right, Minerva,” he replied, and she could feel the vibrations of his voice rumble through his chest. “You need some time to get used to the situation…”

It wasn’t all right, Minerva thought, and she told him so. She looked up into his handsome face, the face that had changed so much since her departure.

“Tom?” she asked him, and he looked down at her.

“Yes, Minerva?” he replied.

“…I… I have something to tell you.”

He nodded to her, indicating for her to continue.

“…it’s… well… he reminded me of you,” she said.

“I reminded you of whom?” he asked, confused by her confession.

“Salazar did.” She unconsciously rubbed her stomach. “Before I began dreaming of him, I had dreamt of you. I never acted on it because… well, because you were so different. You seemed as though you only wanted power. And when I fell in love with him, it was because he was so like you…”

Tom took her hand, looking down into her eyes as she ended her confession. “I hope that you are not making that up because you feel you must, Minerva,” he told her, serious. “Just because my feelings are as they are does not mean you have to feel the same way…”

She tried weakly to shove him away from her. “Is that what you think? That I would make something like this up in order to spare you from rejection? No! I do mean it, I do – why don’t you believe that? I never told you because I didn’t trust you – you just seemed… malevolent, somehow. I never really believed that Hagrid opened the Chamber, and I thought that you framed him. And it didn’t seem like your ‘friends’ were really friends – more like a gang.”

She felt him swallow as she mentioned the Chamber. “I opened the Chamber, Minerva. But after I graduated, after Dumbledore took me on as an apprentice, I told Headmaster Dippet what had really happened. Hagrid was allowed to come back to school and buy a new wand. I apologised to him – I was a completely different person before your disappearance,” he told her softly. “I wanted to impress you; I wanted power because I thought that you would want me if I was powerful…” he trailed off. She looked at him in consternation.

“I don’t want you because of power, Tom – and just wanting someone will not last forever. True love lasts forever,” she told him. “Perhaps that’s why I could return…” she murmured quietly, but he heard her.

“Do you mean that, Minerva?” he asked her, cupping her chin in his hand. She closed her eyes and nodded. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Her eyes fluttered open in surprise, and her hand drifted to her lips, touching them lightly.

“I love you, Minerva,” he told her seriously. “I have for a long time. I am who I am today because of my love for you.”

She smiled up at him. “Even when I was with Salazar, I thought of you. I missed home, I missed being here. Thank you for never giving up trying to bring me back,” she whispered.

He brought one hand up to caress her cheek. “I love you, Minerva,” he told her.

“I know,” she replied. “And I love you too.”

Little did they know that an invisible Albus Dumbledore was watching them, smiling at their joy, glad that they both had a second chance at love.
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June, Three Years Later

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As she entered the Headmaster’s office, which was now Albus’s office after Armando Dippet had died this past summer, she heard a squeal and saw a small, dark-haired boy dash across the room to her.

“Mummy!” the little boy shrieked, running towards her as fast as he could on his short toddler legs. “Grandpa says that Daddy is coming back today!” Minerva bent down to pick him up, smiling at his enthusiasm.

“Yes, Tommy, he is!” she exclaimed, tickling his round tummy, listening to his giggles. She smiled at Albus overtop her son’s head. “I hope that Grandpa didn’t give you too many sweets…” Albus grinned at that, eyes twinkling.

“And I’m sure that he’ll be back any moment now…” At her last statement, the fire in the Headmaster’s office roared, the orange flames becoming green.

“And here he is!” Albus exclaimed, getting up from behind his desk to give his adopted son a hug. After releasing Albus, Tom turned to his wife and son.

“Daddy!” the boy squealed, as Tom took their child from his lovely wife’s arms. He held the boy above his head, spinning him around, a silly grin on his face as he listen to his son giggle and shriek in delight. Finally, he lowered the boy and shifted his weight so that he could hold him with one arm.

“Hello, darling,” Tom told Minerva affectionately, giving her a brief kiss, due to their current lack of privacy.

“Hello, Tom. How was the conference?” Tom had been attending a two-week long conference on new advances in Potions, which was held in Munich, Germany.

“It was quite interesting, darling, though I’m glad to be back,” he told her, eyes twinkling – a trait he had picked up from his adoptive father. They held each other’s gaze until Albus’s amused cough broke them out of their reverie.

“Would you like me to watch Tommy tonight, my dears?” he asked them, “You seem to have a lot to catch up on.”

Both Tom and Minerva threw Albus a grateful glance and readily agreed, happy that their son had such an involved grandfather. They did indeed have quite a lot to catch up on…


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“…mmm…” Minerva yawned, curled up in Tom’s arms. “That was lovely, sweetheart.”

Tom chuckled. “I thought so too,” he told her, kissing the top of her head.

Her fingers traced patterns on his damp chest. “Tom?”

“Mmhmm?” he replied, smoothing down her hair.

“We’re going to have a baby.”

He stopped stroking her hair, his hand drifting down to her stomach, which, he could tell, was slightly rounded already. “Really?”

“Mmhmm,” she yawned again, snuggling up further into his embrace. “In December.”

Tom closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the present. “I love you,” he told her.

“I love you too,” she replied, turning her head to look at him. His eyes met hers lovingly, and she could see the joy and wonder present there. She placed her hand over his, both of them resting on her stomach. She stretched up to him for a kiss, and then nestled back into his arms. Slowly they drifted off to sleep, all at peace with the world.

[Junora]

*squeal* so wonderful, just so heartwarming wonderful.
I love it , what a wonderful way to end it. (I still hate Rowena, hrmpf, stupid little b....)

And oh what a wonderful thing, a nice and good Tom Riddle. And he is such a good Daddy and husband. *sigh*

*bow until head hits floor* I must say just wonderful work (and not just to make your roommate jealous) XD

Big hug Lottie

[kissofdeath]

aww. this was such an awesome story. god, i envy you and your amazing skill @ updating.