First off guys, I'm so sorry this chapter took forever to publish! I've been so busy with work and life in general that I honestly hadn't sat down to write until last Thursday! And of course, because since when is life easy for me, the moment I sat down to write my computer started updating and has been acting totally wonky ever since. (-__-) Today has been the first day I've gotten it to stay on long enough for me to finish this chapter and publish it! Anyway ... Let me know what you think with some love (i.e. your votes and comments :) ) We're getting so close to the end, and I'm really excited to end this journey with you all. Ya'll are the B E S T !

Tom sat in his study, staring down at his second glass of Fire Whiskey that afternoon. It had been over two weeks since he'd left Ellison's flat. 'What do you love more Tom? Me ... Or this power you so desperately seek?' - He had been agonizing over those words since the moment she'd said them. 

It had been naïve to think they could go on like this ... He had to've known the blinders Ellison wore when it came to his work would come off at some point. But just as she'd refused to see him for who he truly was, he had refused to admit the obvious - That this, a real relationship with her, would never last. 

A knock sounded at the door, pulling Tom from his thoughts. He sighed, taking a few gulps from his glass. "Come in." The door creaked open, revealing a hesitant Lestrange. Tom's face darkened at the site of him. What was he doing here? He motioned stiffly for him to come in, the door closing as Lestrange obliged. 

"Have you heard about Avery?" Lestrange asked, wasting no time with pleasantries. 

"25 years in Azkaban," Tom spoke casually, "A bit steep, but I suppose that's what happens when you kidnap a Ministry official's daughter," He added with a shrug.

"I assume that memory charm was your doing?" Lestrange asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs stationed on the other side of the desk. 

"It was actually Ellison's idea," He noted, taking a sip of his drink. "I would've just killed him," He added, training his eyes on Lestrange sharply. Lestrange nodded, accepting the drink Tom had poured and offered him. 

"How is she doing?" He asked after a moment. 

"I wouldn't know," Tom replied with a shrug. 

"What do you mean you wouldn't know?" Lestrange asked, his tone concerned. 

"I haven't seen her since Avery's arrest," Tom replied, careful to keep his tone casual, as if he didn't care whether he saw her or not. 

"Don't tell me you're still giving her the cold shoulder," Lestrange began, leaning forward in his seat. "My Lord, I've already told you, I take full responsibility-"

"I'm not the one giving the cold shoulder," Tom cut him off, his casual demeanor slipping for a moment before he regained it. 

"What do you mean?" Lestrange furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

"She wants me to choose," Tom replied, finding it more difficult now to keep up his callous facade. 

"Choose?"

"Her ... Or all of this," He gestured to the room around them.

"Which will you choose?" Lestrange asked, taking a sip from his glass. 

"The right choice is obvious," Tom shrugged off the question.

"Is it?" Lestrange raised a questioning eyebrow. "Because if it were that easy I don't think we'd be having this conversation right now." Tom shot his a look, but Lestrange held his ground. "My Lord..." Lestrange paused, choosing his next words carefully. "Are you really prepared to give her up?"

"I've done it before," Tom shrugged, his jaw clenched as he struggled to regain his indifferent demeanor.

"And we both know how that turned out," Lestrange countered. Tom shot him another warning look, but said nothing. "My Lord ... If I may speak candidly," Lestrange trailed off.

"I thought you already were," Tom replied sharply.

"I've never been one to put much stock in fate - or destiny," Lestrange began, doing his best to ignore Tom's patronizing look. "But I don't believe yours and Ellison's paths crossed after all this time, by mere coincidence."

"What would you call it then?" Tom asked, his tone thick with sarcasm now.

"I don't know," Lestrange shrugged. "But I've seen the two of you together ... You're different with her."

"That seems to be the problem," Tom replied bitterly, dropping all pretenses of not caring now. 

"I was there when you left the first time," Lestrange pressed on, abandoning all restraint now. "There were moments back then, I didn't think you'd survive it."

"But I did," Tom interjected flatly.

"Barely," Lestrange replied, eyeing him intently. "It changed you ... There was a darkness in you I'd never seen before after that."

"Are you saying you don't agree with the things I've done?" Tom bit back sharply.

"My Lord," Lestrange paused, weighing his next words carefully. "I've always considered you a friend. I would've followed to the ends of the Earth when we were just mates in school, and I'd do it now without a second thought - no matter what decision you make."

Tom glanced away, taking a long pull from his glass, wishing the burning liquid would suppress the shame he felt as he swallowed. Lestrange considered him a friend – something he had never put much thought into until now. Lestrange hadn't followed him for personal gain like Avery had, or out of fear like the majority of his followers. He had done it because he trusted Tom – believed in him.

"Tom," Lestrange said shakily, using his real name for the first time in over a decade. It sounded foreign after all this time, but it didn't anger Tom as it usually did when someone spoke his name. "I've seen the person you are with her, and I've seen the person you are without her ... She makes you better - she makes you happy."

Tom looked across the desk at him, weighing his words. He was a different person with Ellison, but he had never considered that person to be better. Weak? – Yes. But better? 

"Ellison is an extraordinary woman," Lestrange began, eyeing Tom cautiously to make sure his words hadn't set him off. "And you love her ... I can see it if your eyes when you look at her." 

He clenched his jaw, tearing his eyes away from Lestrange's intense gaze. Was he truly that transparent? 

"None of that matters," He said flatly, shaking away the gnawing feeling Lestrange's words were giving him. "She'd change her mind if she knew the things I'd done ... The person I am when I'm not with her." 

"I think you underestimate her, and what she already knows," Lestrange replied simply. "She's smarter than you give her credit for." 

Tom glanced at Lestrange, then back at the glass of whiskey he still cupped in his hands. His words were little comfort when Tom knew even Lestrange couldn't possibly know the things he'd done. If he knew the whole truth - that Tom had used dark magic to split his soul into five pieces - he would leave too. 

"She loves you," Lestrange said, pulling Tom from his thoughts. "But if you let her go this time, I fear you'll lose her for good." Silence filled the study, as Tom ran Lestrange's words over in his mind. "I should get back to the office," Lestrange spoke after a moment, breaking Tom's concentration once again. "You have a lot to think about." With that, he turned for the exit, a soft thud echoing throughout the room as the door closed behind him. 

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