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Set In Stone	By : ANONYMONSTER Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 2876 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or its characters, and I do not make money off of these stories.

Chapter List
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CHAPTER THREE

The Silken Collar

Professor Hart sat at her desk two weeks later reflecting on her lessons. They had all gone fairly well. Aside from the Malfoy boy interrupting her, her lesson plans had gone through smoothly with her new students. They seemed to like her, and that was good. At first, Willow had thought they would scorn her, laugh at her age. But they seemed to take her just as seriously as the other teachers. Perhaps this is what I am meant to do, she thought, pushing back her chair and standing. She would have new lesson plans to impress the students with again tomorrow, and needed sleep. With a soft yawn, the witch put her papers neatly into a single pile before departing to her bedroom. Once there, she divested, slipping into a black, silk camisole and matching shorts. She pulled the ribbon from her hair and hung in on the corner of the large, ornate mirror that stood in her room. She ran a hand through her hair, the silky locks falling loose from the braid, and looked into the mirror.

"I'm so young..." She whispered to herself, studying her petite frame. She could not wait to be a fully matured woman, with voluptuous curves and ample breasts. What she wouldn't give for a wrinkle or two... A single grey hair, perhaps, some 'love-handles'. Willow was too engrossed with studying her young frame to notice a black form appear behind her in the mirror. It wasn't until it spoke that the Gaela noticed.

"That you are. That is why I have struggled to find you for so long..."

Willow's gaze shot from her reflection, to that of the man behind her. He wore billowing black robes, and though he was much older than the last time she had seen him, she was stricken by his handsome features. "T-Tom! It can't be... Hogwarts is protected by multiple wards to keep you-" Willow turned to look at the dark Wizard then, stopping when she saw nothing behind her but her bed, and the clothes she had discarded earlier. Turning back to the mirror, she saw Tom once more, standing still behind her. "You're not actually here, are you?"

Tom laughed, a cold, harsh sound. "It's Lord Voldemort, now," He snapped at the mention of his old name. "And of course not. To enter this pathetic excuse for a school would be to die, and I'm not quite ready for that yet," the Dark Lord's reflection grinned maliciously, causing Willow to shiver. "This is the only way that I could speak to you without drawing attention to myself. Owls are inconsistent- you never know when they're being watched. That old oaf Dumbledore has been monitoring the floo network since your arrival, and I can't very well show up in person." Voldemort shrugged casually, his reflection appearing to look at Willow's. "I've had my pawns trace your magic, and when at last we discovered you were here, it was a simple task to project this image of myself to you, using a spell somewhat like the one used to enchant the Mirror of Erised." Tom chuckled as he took in the sight of his old friend in her nightclothes. "Excellent timing on my part, I must say. I am quite enjoying the view, though those are a little small for my liking." Tom's eyes twinkled with a dark humour as Willow quickly covered her chest with her arms.

"What do you want, Tom?" Willow asked angrily.

"You know what I want," Tom growled, his hands reaching up to grasp Willow's shoulders and turn her around, dropping when he remembered he was simply a reflection in her mirror. "I want you dead," he hissed, his eyes growing dark with cold malice. "You broke your promise."

"We were children, Tom!"

"Apparently, you weren't!" he shot, his rage building. "You gave me hope, something to live for, something to go back to that terrible, muggle-ridden orphanage for. And then you tore that all away from me, like I meant nothing to you! NOTHING!"

Willow winced at the force of his voice, stammering slightly as she spoke. "I-I had to, T-Tom. I-"

"You had to? You had to abandon me? Like my mother? Like my stupid muggle father?"

"Tom, you have to understand that I never wanted this to happen-"

"Well it doesn't matter now, does it? It's much too late to take back what you've done. I could handle not having a mother or a father, but I trusted you."

"You can still trust me, Tom."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" The angry wizard barked, his fists clenching as he tried to control his rage. He opened his mouth to speak again, closing it when his eyes caught on the reflection of the long, red ribbon hanging from the mirror. His tensed, angry expression faded away as he reached for the ribbon, his reflection seeming to touch that of the beautiful silk ribbon. "You kept it..." His soft expression grew into the cocky, arrogant grin of the man he had become. "You'd fallen in love with me, hadn't you? That's why you still have this silly old scrap." Spurred by this sudden knowledge, and the need to hurt the seemingly young woman who had abandoned him, Tom's eyes adapted a seductive glow, and he began to trace his fingers slowly over Willow's reflection, just as he'd done to the ribbon.

"S-stop that," Willow hastily demanded, trying to push Tom's hand away as if it were actually there. She knew that it was only a reflection, but even the sight of it made her shudder, half in anticipation, and half in fear.

"I'd forgotten before, but now I recall something about the spell. You have to want me. You have to want me somehow, even slightly, for it to work." Tom kept trailing his hand over Willow's naked arm, and soon was sliding his fingers softly over her prominent collarbone. "So, tell me, Willow," Tom practically sighed the words as his form seemed to push closer to her in the mirror. "Exactly how much do you want me?"

"I... I don't want you..." Willow protested. She willed herself to move, to turn away from the mirror, but it was as if she were stuck there.

"Liar. You lied then, and you lie now," he hissed, his other hand moving to slither along Willow's waist, slowly creeping up towards her breast. Willow could imagine what it would feel like, to have Tom there, touching her as he was, caressing her breasts over the camisole. Beneath the fabric, her nipples hardened into visible peaks, and Willow could feel moisture building between her legs. "Tell the truth, for once in your miserably long life."

Willow glared at his reflection in the mirror, her anger spiraling inside of her. How did he make her feel that way when he wasn't even there? "You want the truth?" She asked, her voice as sharp as a whip. In a flash, the scene changed. Reflected in an old, cracked mirror stood Tom Riddle, Willow now standing behind him as she turned his own magic against him. She laughed coldly, teasing him as he had her by sliding her arms around him, moving her lips by his neck. "The truth is, Tom Marvolo Riddle, that it is you who wants me," she mewled, her hands sliding lower over the now surprised man's chest. Willow could see his whole life up to this moment flash before her eyes, and she grinned wickedly. "You have wanted me ever since you were old enough to recognize the urge," she whispered seductively, her hands now rubbing along the silent wizard's thighs. "You raped and murdered countless muggle women to try and satisfy yourself. But it didn't work, did it, Tom?"

"No..." It was so silent that Willow almost missed it. Almost. Triumph flashed in her eyes, and she moved her hands inward, laughing as Tom clenched his teeth together, his shiver of pleasure so strong that it was visible in the mirror.

"And what did you do then, Tom? When you could no longer find any release in the muggles, what did you do?" Willow knew full well what he had done, but she wanted him to say it himself.

"I had my Death Eaters search for you," he whispered, his arrogant demeanour completely diminished now. "I became obsessed with you. More so than I ever had been."

Willow smirked, her lips seeming to brush against the Dark Lord's neck in the reflection. "And what did you want to do to me, Tom?" She enquired as she gazed into his dark eyes. "Kill me? Rape me?"

Tom muttered something inaudible, but Willow wouldn't settle for that.

"What was that, Tom? Say it with conviction. How powerful is the Dark Lord Voldemort if he cannot state a simple fact with conviction?"

"Love!" He shouted, the word echoing through the room. "L-love... I wanted to love you."

Willow's hands dropped, and her mouth opened slowly as she searched for something to say, shocked into silence by Tom's confession. She had expected 'Kill', or 'Rape' as she had said, quite possibly even 'Possess', but never in a million years had she expected him to say that he'd wanted to love her. She looked at his face, slowly studying every line, every angle. He looked disgusted with himself, as if to hope for love were below him.

"Why... Why do you make me want to love you? You make me so- so weak. So vulnerable. So... human." The last word dripped with dread, with malice, as Tom struggled to regain his composure. "I should hate you. I want to hate you. It would be so easy if I hated you, just like I hate everyone else. But you won't let me. You keep invading my thoughts with that stupid, silky voice of yours, those damned, beautiful eyes, those soft, rosy lips..." Tom's words slowed as he spoke, until he stopped talking completely, a look of yearning clear on his face as he became lost in his thoughts. Slowly, Willow noticed rage begin to take over every other emotion, until it was all that was left in the man.

With a sharp jolt, the two were back in Willow's room, standing in front of her mirror, the reflection showing Tom's large hands wrapped around her frail neck. "I will kill you for making me feel like this, Willow! The second you step out of that place, you are mine. I will break you, Willow, until you beg for me, and then I will kill you. You had better hope you never take a single step out of that castle's wards, girl, because I promise, you'll regret it. I will do whatever it takes to get to you. Not a student in that castle will be safe to leave, so long as you remain there." Voldemort grinned wickedly as power and truth rang clear in his voice. He said one last, harsh truth before he left. "It is set in stone."

"Where is Albus?" Willow stood in front of Minerva McGonagall, still in her nightclothes, glancing around the large office for any sign of Dumbledore. She was shaking; her blood had run cold with fear as the truth in Tom's promise had hit her heart.

"He is away on important business and will not be back until tomorrow evening," the Head of Gryffindor said calmly as she took in Willow's appearance. "What on earth are you doing running about the school in the middle of the night in that, Ms. Hart? It is hardly appropriate! Now, I suggest that you go back to your quarters and get some rest, and we can sort this out tomorrow," Minerva reasoned, believing that the girl was simply deprived of rest. "Come, now. To bed with you," she said, ushering the shivering girl to the door of the office.

"No! I have to speak with him, Minerva. It is urgent!"

"What is so important that you must call the headmaster back to Hogwarts? Have you finally hit puberty?" The woman asked snarkily, taking a shot at Willow's appearance. Willow's dislike for the woman grew, and she glared.

"At least I won't be an old, frigid, disliked bitch in a few years’ time," Willow snarled, some of her fear subsiding as anger replaced it.

"I've heard quite enough from you, you insolent child!"

"I am fifty-six years old, you stubborn cow, and you will take me SERIOUSLY!" The angry Gaela's voice was filled with authority, demanding respect for all of the fifty-six years she had lived. "Now, you will call Albus back to the castle, and you will tell him that it is no longer safe to leave Hogwarts. Not for the students, not for the staff- not at all."

"What are you babbling on about? Of course it is safe-"

"Voldemort means to have me, by any means possible. He will take students, and he will kill them. If anyone so much as steps foot outside of the wards, he will kill them. He knows that I would not let any harm come to the students here, so he expects me to go to him. I cannot do that, Minerva. If it means protecting them, then I will... But Albus has promised my safety here." Willow was crying know, the tears staining the silk of her camisole. "I can't go to him, Minerva. Please, don't make me go to him..."

McGonagall was at a loss for words, and so she took Willow into her arms, softly rubbing the frantic girl's back. "I will contact Albus. But first, tell me exactly what happened, so we may prevent it from happening again.”

And so, Willow recounted her evening to Minerva, who was silently taking in the story, feeling that Willow was telling the truth, that they would most definitely be in danger if they were not careful to stay within the protection of the castle wards. When Willow was finished, Minerva sent the picture of one of the old headmasters to go to its frame at the Ministry to ask for Albus Dumbledore, and tell him to make a swift return to Hogwarts. He was there within moments, his expression both serious and worried as Willow recounted her story yet again.

"Minerva, wake the students. Call them all to the Great Hall. There will be no trips home, or to Hogsmeade, I'm afraid."

"Albus, we can't very well keep the students here for the rest of their lives. What are we going to do?"

"We must find a way to get Willow out, and to safety. Until then, we will continue on as usual, only the students must stay within the castle grounds. We must contact the parents, tell them what is happening so that they do not fear the worst. Now, tell the other Heads of House to wake up their students. I will see you in the Great Hall in twenty minutes. Come, Willow. I will teach you how to prevent Tom from coming to you again."

Three months had passed, and Willow was safe in her office at Hogwarts for the time being. Several students had been angry about the situation- most of them Slytherins- and Willow had had troubles with her classes ever since. Parents were frantic, wanting to take their children out of Hogwarts immediately. But, until Albus could figure out how to transport Willow safely away, Hogwarts was on lock-down. It had seemed a quite simple solution to many. Albus was headmaster of Hogwarts, and could therefore apparate at any time, with anyone. But as Willow was part Gaela, she could not apparate. Apparating would risk both her's and Albus' lives. The only half Gaela, half wizard to ever apparate had been found, splinched, in thousands of different places all over the world. It had something to do with their blood. Of course, a few of the Slytherins agreed that this would be a befitting death, but they were ignored.

Willow had the most trouble with one particular Slytherin- a Ms. Bellatrix Black, who was in her fourth year at Hogwarts. Before, the girl had taken a particular interest in the class, seeming to be a straight 'O' student. Now, the young witch did everything she could to mock Willow. "He'll have you, you know." She'd said once, waiting until all of the other students had left the class to approach Willow. "And when he does, you'll be sorry," she'd added before leaving. Willow avoided the girl when she could, now, afraid she might snap the little wretch's neck. But that would only result in her going to Azkaban, and, as Tom seemed to have some control over the Dementors, eventually she would end up in his hands. With a soft sigh, Willow ran a hand through her thick curls, feeling more trapped than she ever had before. She was so used to running away from danger, from being discovered. Now that she was cooped up at Hogwarts, she longed for the days of climbing over fences, hiding out in old, abandoned houses.

Upon hearing a knock at her door, Willow stood and adjusted her robes, making sure she looked presentable, before quickly organizing her desk. "Come in," she called when she was finished. She watched as the door slowly opened, and Bellatrix Black stepped in, closing and spelling the door behind her so that it was sealed tight. Willow narrowed her eyes at the young Slytherin witch. She could have easily broken the spell and sent the girl away, but obviously she had something important to say, or she would not risk cornering a professor like this. "What is it you want, girl? Be quick, I'm a busy woman."

"Good evening, Professor." Bellatrix said. The polite tone did not sound well on her. "I've come to deliver a message," she said, a wicked smile on her face. "The Dark Lord would like me to tell you that he will wait as long as he has to for you. He says that he knows you can see the future, and he knows that what you see is exactly as he said it will be. You will encounter him. And he will not show you any mercy."

"Is that all?" Willow asked icily. The girl was right. She had seen the end, and it had been exactly as Tom had said, though she would never admit that to the girl.

"He would also have you know that if you do not bring yourself to him within the next twenty-four hours, he will send his Death Eaters to the whereabouts of one Elliot Fletcher... And kill him."

"You vile girl!" Willow pulled out her wand, pointing it at the Dark Lord's young follower.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you, professor." Bellatrix said with a smirk. "Twenty-five Lovat Lane." The girl said in a sing-song voice, laughing wildly as Willow lowered her wand and covered her mouth, choking back a sob. "That's right, Professor. I'd make up my mind, and soon, if I were you." Bellatrix lifted the spell she'd set on the door then, and left.

Willow felt her legs give out the moment Bellatrix was gone, and she dropped to the floor heavily, tears streaming freely down her cheeks now. She let herself cry for a while longer before she pulled herself together. She would go. She had to. She couldn't let Elliot be killed. She would not. She lifted her young body off of the floor and wiped her eyes. She did not bother gathering all of her things. She took only five things with her. The clothes on her back, her wand, the locket with the pictures of her parents, the small wooden rabbit from the orphanage, and the ribbon Tom had given her. With that, she left her office and headed for the exit of the castle, only stopping when she had reached the large castle gate and the end of the grounds. Albus met her there, trying to convince her to stay.

"They'll kill him, Albus. I will not let that happen. Besides, it's much better this way. The students will be safe."

"I really wish you would change your mind, Willow. I can't help you once you're gone. Tom has become far too powerful."

"I know."

Albus gave Willow a long, sympathetic look before he took out his wand and tapped the gates once. They opened, silent but slow, and Willow embraced Albus, her fear clear in the way that her body trembled. With a deep, shaky breath, she bid the old wizard adieu, and stepped off of the castle grounds. Immediately, Voldemort was there, enveloping Willow in his strong arms, and within seconds, they were both smoke, traveling on the currents of the wind to Tom's hideout. Since this wasn't really a form of apparation, Willow was safe, and they both arrived there with all of their limbs, the thick trails of smoke quickly reforming as their bodies. The very second she was certain that she was all there, Willow pushed out of the dark wizard’s arms and slapped him across the face.

"You... You animal!" Willow slapped him again, the force surprisingly strong for her small, nineteen year old body. "How dare you use Elliot against me!? How dare you send a child to threaten me!" She went to hit him again, but he grabbed her wrist, holding it firmly in place. Bringing up her free hand, she slapped the wizard once last time, with all of her might, before he grabbed hold of that wrist as well, and forced her back against the door to his hideout. "How!?" She shrieked, clenching her fists as she tried to escape his grasp. Soon, when she realized that she could not get her wrists free, she went slack, leaning into her old friend and sobbing against his chest. "How could you become such a monster..?" Her voice, weak from crying, cracked as she asked this of the man who had been her first, true friend.

Tom simply stood there, his hold on her wrists never slackening, even as she fell against him. He buried his face in her soft, sweet hair, basking in triumph, as he had her at long last. She didn't struggle as he gently led her into the house, sealing the door behind him. There were none of his faithful servants about, as he had sent all of them away for this glorious night. Finally, he let go of Willow's wrists, and she dropped to the floor before him, her tears long since dried up. In one final bout of anger, Willow took the small wooden rabbit from the pocket of her robes and chucked it at Tom, just like she used to whenever he'd scared her.

"I can't believe you kept this pathetic chunk of wood," he spoke at long last, picking the rabbit up after it had bounced harmlessly off of his chest and fallen to the floor. He tossed it aside, and as it flew through the air, Tom transfigured it into a real rabbit, which hit the floor and then hopped off soundlessly through the hall. "What else did you bring with you? Hm?" Tom examined her. He noticed the locket around her neck and grinned, his smile dripping with cruelty. "You won't be needing this anymore," he hissed, yanking the chain from her neck. The necklace turned to dust in his hands, and Willow watched the last remnants of her parents trickle to the ground through Tom's fingers. He reached his hands into her pockets, finding first her wand, and then the long ribbon he had given her. "Ah, I'd hoped you would bring this," he said with a chuckle. "Though, I wasn't sure you would after how we'd parted that night." The Dark Lord tucked Willow's wand into his own robes before producing his wand. He ran the tip of his wand along the length of the ribbon, whispering a few words as he did so. When he was done, the ribbon flew up into the air, creating a spiral, and then snaked itself around Willow's neck, tying itself into a bow.

"What the- are you barking mad, Tom? Get this damned thing off of me, right now-" Willow gasped as the ribbon tightened around her neck, cutting off her air supply.

"I've spelled the ribbon," the dark wizard explained as he walked around Willow, watching as she struggled to breath. "If you displease me, it will do one of three things. Choke you, shock you... or kill you. It will not come off unless I will it to, so there is no use in trying to take it off. If you use magic against it, it will retaliate." Voldemort knelt in front of her then, grabbing her chin firmly as she gasped for air. "You will not call me Tom again. You will address me only as 'My Lord', or 'Master'. Do you understand?" Tom waited for some form of a reply. A nod, a choked out 'yes', but Willow only glared at him. As the Dark Lord's patience wore thin, the ribbon tightened once more. "Do you understand?" He hissed, pulling her face close to his. Willow wrenched her chin free from his grasp before she gave a quick nod, her breath supply running much too low for her liking. The ribbon loosened just like that, and Willow's master smirked. "Well done."

"I hate you." Willow whispered, her voice now rough from being choked.

"Oh, but I love you, Willow," he remarked, grabbing her by her new collar and pulling her in for an angry, hard kiss. Neither of them liked the fact that something sparked when their lips met, and so they pulled apart quickly, though not letting the other know their thoughts. "And I intend to shower you with... affection." The Dark Lord chuckled deeply at that and stood up straight. I just hope that in breaking her, she doesn't end up breaking me, he thought. When he'd said he loved her, he hadn't been lying.

A/N: Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it!
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