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Chapter 1: Sunrise
amazing chapter image by rollerblades at tda!
Fifteenth April 1995
Minerva’s frail hands skimmed along the surface of the velvet lined book. Squinting, she could see the words that had been etched upon the front cover: Love, Anonymous. It had been years since she had last seen him, years since her hands had touched his, years since she had stared into the eyes of the only man she had ever loved, the only man that she could never have: Tom Riddle. Or, as the world knew him now, Lord Voldemort.
Brushing a piece of grey hair out of her eyes, Minerva gripped the edges of the book tighter. Her age had diminished her looks, once upon a time, Minerva was beautiful, once she had long, brown hair with scintillating brown eyes.
‘Then again, I suppose everything fades,’ Minerva thought her mind flashing back to all the nostalgic and fleeting memories that she had had with Tom. Standing to her feet, Minerva placed the velvet book at the bottom of her bookcase, and, banishing the creases from her skirt she watched as her class piled into the empty classroom. To everybody else in the world, today was just a normal day. To them, nothing significant happened. This day would just come again another year, but to Minerva today was the day she lost everything she ever cared about.
First April 1941
The trees swayed in the breeze, following a perfect pattern. Children played in the swaying green reeds that had grown from the river. Everyone who had lived in London had been evacuated, and, depending upon their age and place of birth, they were moved to separate locations around the country. All the students of Hogwarts had been sent to the outskirts of Scotland.
The birds began to sing their song as the sun spread its delightful rays over the never-ending green hills, and—taking that as their que—everyone gathered their things and began to talk back towards their designated safe homes.
“Minerva!” Spinning around, Minerva saw a young girl with blonde ringlets pushing through the array of people and running towards her. Smiling, Minerva knelt down onto the damp grass and allowed the young girl to fly into her arms. “Where did you go? I couldn’t find you.” The Young Girl asked. Minerva touched the edge of the girls nose and smiled.
“I was flying with Peter Pan in Neverland.” Minerva whispered, pointing to the sky.
“Peter Pan’s not real.” The girl said, shaking her head at Minerva.
“Oh, come on now Rose, use your imagination.” Minerva teased, kissing Rose on the forehead. “Now, come on, we’ve got to get home.” Minerva stood to her feet, and, clasping her hand in Rose’s she began to walk home.
The clock in the hall struck eleven and everyone was tucked away in their beds. Well, almost anyone. Minerva slipped herself out of bed and, after wrapping herself in a dressing gown, she walked outside. The cool breeze hit her, brushing all of her hair off her face. The full moon shone down, over the green plains, acting as a beacon for Minerva’s frail feet. She passed the old oak tree that stood firm and strong in the courtyard and walked confidently past the growing hedges. Even though the war had hit the world hard, Minerva could still see beauty in the simplest of places. She could still see beauty in the wind, in the sun and in the moon. The only thing she couldn’t see beauty in was herself, whenever she saw herself she couldn’t spot any perfections, she only saw flaws.
Minerva’s eyes scanned her surroundings; green hills stretched out over the endless plains, jutting out at odd angles, and in the horizon it seemed as though the black sky and the green hills met in perfect unison. The silhouetted trees swayed silently in the never ending English breeze and the wind carried the smell of water and fire.
When Minerva reached her destination, the moon was beginning to set and the sun was starting to rise. She loved watching the sun rise over the still lake; it gave her a small sense of fulfillment, knowing that the war hand’t been won by the Nazi's that day. Settling down comfortably at the roots of the water tree she pulled her legs up to her chin and watched as the geese flew off the lake and into the disappearing distance.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Minerva twisted her head and saw The Slytherin Prince standing behind her, leaning against the tree, his arms folded across his chest. Rolling her eyes, Minerva turned her head back and stared at the lake.
“I guess so.” She said flatly, not looking Tom Riddle in the face. “I’ve never payed much attention to it.” She lied.
“So it isn’t you that I see walking along the plains every morning and sitting down in that exact spot?” Riddle sneered, kneeling down to Minerva’s level. Anger rose in Minerva’s throat.
“You follow me!” She accused, facing Riddle again. A smile perched across Riddle’s face.
“I don’t follow you McGonagall. I simply observe.” Riddle replied, running his fingers through his floppy brown hair. “I can see why you come down here, it is stunning.” He added, looking at the sunrise. Minerva turned and looked at the sunrise, a sense of hope filled her chest. Her brown hair fell over her shoulders, reflecting slightly in the sun. Behind her, she could feel Riddle’s hot breath on her exposed neck.
“I’ve got to go.” Minerva said, standing to her feet. Then, without saying another word, Minerva dusted the first of her skirt and walked away; Riddle’s eyes boring into her back.
Minerva retraced her footsteps back to her host house to find everyone sleeping soundly in their beds. Not that she was surprised. Relaxing her shoulders, MInerva walked into the kitchen, the smell of burnt bread welcoming her. For five in the morning, Minerva noticed that the kitchen was eerily quiet. There were no chefs, or maids, or waitresses bustling in the kitchen in their daily attempt to wake their masters up. Looking around curiously, Minerva spotted something out of the corner of her eye. As she approached her sighting, the smell hit her. The smell of blood. Rounding the corner, Minerva clasped her hand over her mouth and screamed.
a.n, yes another story! I hope this story is good. It's my second attempt a Tom/Minerva story and I hope I do the ship justice :D It's defiantly not my OTP but I do ship them.
Also, I do not own Peter Pan (all though I would like to) It belongs to J.M Barrie
Read and review!!!