Walburga/Voldemort. but not really

[toujours_nigel]

Title: conversations in the snake pit.
Characters: Walburga Black, Tom Riddle.
Pairings: Walburga/Minerva/Tom. OR none
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: notminenotminenotmine
Summary: seventh year, day the last.

“And so you’re off.”

 

“So I am.”

 

“And what will you do, Tom?”

 

“I’m told I am too young to teach.”

 

“He himself started as young.”

 

“And so you suggest he wishes for no equal?”

 

“I say he’s afraid of a superior.”

 

“You flatter me.”

 

“What need? Oh, Tom, Tom, Tom. What a teacher you’d make, what a man you’ll make.”

 

“Feet upwards, chiselled from stone? It may yet come to that.”

 

“What a pure-blood you’d make, Tom.”

 

“What a husband I’d make?”

 

“No, my Tom, not for me.”

 

“You are right, you certainly do not flatter me.”

 

“Don’t sulk Tom, it’s hardly flesh you’re after. Well, it’s hardly my flesh you’re after.”

 

“Miss Black, I do assure you...”

 

“Have you asked her yet?”

 

“I intend not to.”

 

“No?”

 

“No.”

 

“Pity. Minnie McGonagall would suit you perfectly.”

 

“Do I detect jealousy?”

 

“Tom, Tom, Tom.”

 

“Burga, Burga, Burga.”

 

“My tastes run to Blacks and women, and you, my Lord, are neither.”

 

“Did I say you were jealous of her?”

 

“Tricky, Thomas.”

 

“And you such an innocent maid.”

 

“Aye, shame on you, you…”

 

“Rascal?”

 

“Rogue. But what a wife she’d make you, Tom, and what a mistress she’d make me.”

 

“Pity.”

 

“Pity.”