" Come with me, Minnie, my luve. Together the two of us can rule over the darkest night. Say yes. I luve you, you know that. Come away with me and you shall become my queen, The Dark Lady." The black-haired witch just stared at him. She took a step back from him as a look of horror crossed her face.

" I can't. " Tears sprang unbidden to her emerald eyes as she realized that her boyfriend was not who he was supposed to be anymore. " No, Tom. You're going down a road, that I can not possibly follow. I'm sorry." Dark brown eyes burned angrily.

" Silly little girl," He sneered. " A year ago you would have been at my side in a heart beat. Something has happened to change your opinion of me. What is it, Minerva ? I thought you luved me, too."

" Luve is not something to be bandied about. I did luve you, Tom. But . . . "

" There's someone else isn't there ? " The sneer deepened, twisting what was a handsome visage into something truly frightening.

"I'm, I'm sorry Tom, but, my answer is still no. Good bye." She whispered, turning to go, blinking back tears. A shriek escaped her as she was spun around. His hand encircled her wrist like a vice as Minerva McGonagall was forced to face Tom Riddle.

" You are mine, Minerva. You always will be." His face came closer. She recoiled in fear, breaking free of his grasp. With no thought in her head, but, safety she fled towards the castle. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see that her boyfriend was in hot pursuit.

The frightened witch burst through the castle doors. Her emerald green eyes searched the surprisingly empty entrance hall. Surely someone would be here to bear witness to this debacle. No one. She sprinted through hall way after hall way, her wand out, muttering unlocking charms before her, locking charms behind her. Finally she reached her destination, the Head Girl's rooms, her room. Surely, Tom wasn't deluisional enough to think that he could enter Gryffindor House. Was he ?

Panting from exertion, Minerva collapsed onto her bed. She sat upright and shot a locking spell, the strongest she could think of, at the door. Better safe than sorry. Minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness, she allowed her tense body to slump to the mattress in relief, tears flowing freely down her face. Tom Riddle had from the start told her of his plans for world domination. They had formed a tenuous friendship aboard the Express back in first year. But, as they began to mature, they grew apart. Then, when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, she turned to him for comfort and nature took its course. Now, she was just doomed by her idiocy. True, the boy was handsome. But, since when was a handsome face ever enough to turn her head away from a book and her studies ?

" Why did you run, my luve? You could have said, yes. How hard is it ? You'll always belong to me. There is no where you cannot go that I won't follow." He was right outside the door. Did the alarms go off ? If so, where was Albus ?

The door behind her exploded, showering her in splinters. The force threw her from her bed and onto the cold stone floor. Sitting up, she drew a hand to her forehead. She could feel the stream of blood pouring forth. Looking up, emerald eyes met dark burning fires. He had gained entrance to her room, to Gryffindor Tower.

Tom crouched down, grabbing her wrist and hauled her to her feet. Trying to jerk it away from him proved futile. He only increased the pressure.

" Your, You're hurting me ! " She cried. He just laughed.

" You think I care ? I don't. You will learn, no one turns Thomas Marvolo Riddle down ! " He promptly back handed her across the face. The force snapped her head back. She went limp in his arms. He started laughing, softly at first before rising louder, the sound resonating around the room evilly.

She woke up, a scream lodged in her throat. Her hand trembling, Professor Minerva McGonagall reached for her wand.

" Tempus." Light red smoke rose from her wand revealing that it was nearly three in the morning. Sighing, she collapsed back against the pillows. A glance towards the other side of the bed revealed that it was still empty. A slight frown marred her face. Hopefully nothing was wrong. Usually, he was asleep at her side at this odd hour. Since he wasn't here, the Transfiguration Mistress rose from her bed and slipped into her dressing gown. Gently, she tugged the black braid free from the plain, white muslin. Classes were tomorrow, eight thirty sharp, and it certainly would not do for the students to see me half asleep. What would they say if they saw me lose my stern facade for even a second? The reputation that she had built up pain-stakingly, year by year, would disappear into thin air in a single moment.

Eying the tall stack of Transfiguration essays on her neat desk, half of them with a Dreadful or at least a Poor, she felt that would throw up if she had to read one more messy, cramped word, or one more paragraph. No, marking papers were definitely not conducive to achieving tranquility. I could always transform and prowl about the corridors. A frown appeared as she remembered the last time she did that. Mrs. Norris had chased her around half the castle, finally forcing her to flee for safety. Which she had found in Gryffindor Tower. Shaking her head at the memorya thought struck her. Tea and shortbread. Possibly a snack could calm my nerves.

Pointing her wand at the fireplace she muttered,

" Incendio. " The smoldering embers leapt to life as fiery tongues consumed what wood was still in the grate. Gathering a porcelain rose patterned tea pot she filled it with her usual tea leaves and water from the tap in the loo. Tapping her wand on the tea pot, she heated the water. While the tea steeped, she accioed the tin of shortbread from her desk in her office. Grabbing her water glass from the night stand, Professor McGonagall transfigured it into a dainty tea cup in the same pattern as the pot. Settling down on the sofa with the tea spread, the Transfiguration Mistress poured herself a soothing cup of the valerian-laced blend of spices and sweet oranges. Retrieving a shortbread, she took a sip and slowly began to relax. The dancing flames caught her eye. A sigh escaped her. The last time I was up this late was because of Tom Riddle. As she stared at the fire, cupping the mug in both hands, she let the past wash over again.