The Dark Lord's Wife

A Very Necessary Test

She's not at all stealthy.

At least not right now she's not.

Though ...

There's been occasions in the past where she's shown herself to be impressively sly; admirably sneaky.

I'll be the first to admit there's been times when she's bested me, outmanoeuvred me.

... But this?

This wasn't one of those times.

Fighting back an amused smile, I lift up my lager. And as I bring the cool glass to my lips, I can picture her perfectly. In my mind's eye, I see her slipping out of the booth. The same way I can so perfectly imagine how she held her breath just now as she stared at me, silently debating. How finally resolved in her decision to escape me she hastily darted out of the pub and into the rain.

And that's with my back fully to her.

Don't you get it?

I don't need eyes to see her.

I know her.

Sure enough, right as I turn my head out of sheer curiosity I just barely catch the sight of her flying out the back entrance.

Goodbye, Y/N.

Well ... Goodbye for now, that is.

For a few more seconds, I stare at the door she just disappeared out of. And as I mentally replay our conversation, I don't just take stock of the words that were said, but of everything. Every gesture, every tone, every glance. I now endeavour to commit it all to memory.

Make no mistake though -

I'm no fool.

I knew exactly what I was doing just now.

I knew the cost of taunting her, teasing her.

I knew I'd scare her off.

Rolling my eyes at the sheer predictability of it all, I take another long sip then set the glass gently down on the countertop. Leaning forward and kicking one foot against the foot rest beneath the bar, I resist the urge to shake with silent laughter. When I once again reach for the half empty glass, I begin to spin it slowly in my hand.

You know the thing about me though?

... I just can't seem to help myself.

Especially when it comes to her.

Narrowing my eyes at the implications of that thought, I continue to slowly spin the glass round and round, watching as the pale lager swirls hypnotically.

"You've got a bit of the Devil in you, Thomas."

Words Mrs. Cole used to say to me what feels like a lifetime ago now.

Well ...

... I hate to inform you that you were completely wrong, Mrs. Cole.

More than just a bit of the Devil.

Far more, I'd wager.

Another sip from the glass, and then another. And when I've finally emptied it, I slide it dismissively forward then push myself off the bar.

... I was trying to push her, don't you see?

A very necessary test.

I wanted to know - needed to confirm - if she had any memories intact.

Because that's the thing -

This whole business, quite an annoyingly imperfect science.

And I never know whether or not she'll consciously remember.

Whistling softly now, I slip my hands into my trouser pockets and begin to stroll slowly towards the front door.

Sometimes she remembers everything perfectly.

Other times, like the most recent cycle, she never comes fully around to remembering.

Though I really do believe she was close towards the end last time.

And I know if it hadn't been for that bastard Rashaad -

That whole messy business -

Shaking my head angrily, I wrestle to tamp down a slew of suddenly overwhelming violent impulses.

Rashaad.

Just you wait, Shafiq.

When we meet again in this timeline, you're a dead man once more.

I'll have you and Slytherin both drawn and quartered.

Though of course this time I'll make sure she's not around to witness.

Trust me - the extent of my cruelty? The lengths I'll go?

That's not a part of me I'll ever fully show her again.

... Unless I slip.

Having now reached the entrance to the pub, I stare at her coat and mine together on the hook. At the way I know she considered having to leave it behind just now.

Every time I reset us, I can't really.

I can't truly get the restart I want, you understand?

Because it's always flawed.

Because she always catches on.

And in that way, she always wins.

... But I refuse to lose. I'll never lose to anyone, in any matter.

And after all this time, all this effort ...

It's all going to be worth it when I finally win our struggle once and for all.

Huffing irritably at the idea of now having to track her down once more, at the knowledge I'll be making a whole night out of this, I slip her coat off the wooden peg, and mine along with it. And after I put mine on, I carefully fold hers over my forearm.

Anyway, as I was saying before, sometimes her memories never kick in.

But this time ...

... Perhaps my intuition's off, but this time I think she'll remember.

And I think it's going to be a gradual reawakening.

So you see ... I just couldn't help but to poke around and confirm for myself.

No memory of Slytherin.

That's certainly a good thing.

And as to him ... well ... hopefully I've got a bit of time yet before he surfaces and attempts to muck everything up.

With her coat on my arm and my umbrella in hand, I step out into the cold, grey, rainy afternoon. And after a quick glance to my left and another to my right to orient myself, I begin to set off in the direction of her flat.

She won't be there, of course. I already know that.

But her watch will.

And I need that watch if I'm going to find her.