Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does.

There are a total of five chapters in this short story. They are all relatively short, but I think they paint a fairly good picture. Please leave reviews. They are all uber-helpful for future fics! :D

Minerva McGonagall was in no mood for either of her trouble-making brothers, who each had taken to bothering her the entire way to Hogwarts.

"Ratty, second years," she murmured under her breath as she pulled a book out of her bag and gave up her futile attempts at stopping the two Ravenclaws from creating as much noise as they possibly could.

"Oh, Minnie's just being dour, my brother," said one as he towered over her on the seat next to her. His muddy shoes left tracks of dirt on the wood bench.

Minerva glared down at the pages of her book, just barely covering her wince as they used the nickname that she despised so much. She had yet to be able to put an end to "Minnie"—even the professors called her Minnie! She never liked that name, though others agreed that it suited her just fine.

Minerva's small, button-sized eyes were hidden behind the heavy frames of her glasses. Her sharp cheekbones, slight nose, and well-curved chin gave others the illusion of a delicate beauty. Her hair was thin, grassy stands of brown. Her neck was long, offsetting her small, fragile build. It had been hard for Minerva to convince the boys on the Gryffindor quidditch team she was worthy of her position. Though, for the past five years that Minerva had been Seeker on the team, said team had won the cup.

Minerva looked up from her book. "Don't either of you have friends?" she asked her lips forming a teasing smirk. Her mind could not help but wandering to her own friends. Jacob Potter and Eliza Bratwurst were both still at Hogwarts.

"Of course we do," sighed one in frustration, "But they all stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas."

"Nick, Dan, I don't care if they've drowned themselves, just find someone else to bother."

"Fine," they grumbled as they stepped out of the compartment. She watched them suspiciously, unsure of what to make of their sudden surrender. Minerva sighed in an attempt to brush off her fears.

Finally, it was just her and her books. She still never understood why the hat had placed her in Gryffindor—it had certainly been a shock for her family, all of which had gone to Ravenclaw.

She heard a knock at her cabin door. "Bloody twins... I'm coming! For Merlin's sake!"

She swung the door open, her book clutched between her chin and her chest.

"Miss me?"

Minnie dropped her book suddenly, stammering at the appearance of a striking young man with black hair and blue eyes. It was the one man she had never expected to see again.

"Riddle," she said finally, after collecting herself and grabbing her book from the floor. "I thought you were done with Hogwarts?" she asked with a hint of anger.

"Oh, I am," he said, his eyes boring holes in the back of Minerva's head.

Minerva glared back at him. "How have your little Death Munchers, or Eaters, or whatever you call them been treating you?" She approached him so that she had to tilt her head up to meet the imposingly tall man's eyes.

Riddle's face darkened a bit before returning to his blank mask. "Well enough," he admitted as he shoved himself by the sixth year and into her compartment.

"Why are you here?" Minerva turned away from him and threw her book onto the bench as she asked that question. She turned back, a sarcastic smile lining her lips, "or should I even ask, Lord Voldemort?"

"Of course you should," agreed Tom amiably as he sat across from her. His black robes did not show the Slytherin emblem, and Minerva found she liked it better that way.

"But you aren't planning on answering that, Tom?"

"No, it's simple really. I've come to ask the headmaster for a position as a professor."

Minerva choked back a laugh. "You? A professor? That would be a disaster, not to mention the fact that Dumbledore would never allow you near his office."

"Yes, Albus has always held a grudge against me…"

"I wonder why, The Man who Claims He's a Dark Lord," Minerva mumbled. "What would you teach anyway? All the positions are full."

Riddle simply laughed. "For now they are, but I was planning on taking the Dark Arts spot."

"It's Defense Against the Dark Arts, Riddle. In what deluded universe are you coming from if you think that Dumbledore—heck, anyone—would let you, a potential Dark Lord, be a DADA professor? I mean, really. Wasn't it just months ago that you publically announced yourself as Lord Voldemort?"

Riddle smiled. "To have known any of what you do, you'd have to have read the German post recently," he said endearingly. "Why, Minnie, have you been stalking my whereabouts?" Minerva glared back at him, anger glinting in her eyes. "I see that I have not yet instilled fear in you," he commented wryly as he stalked around her like a tiger ready to pounce. He drew his wand. "It wouldn't be difficult."

McGonagall sputtered. "W—what!" she exclaimed as she stepped back and reexamined the grown Slytherin. He looked different—his imposing height had not changed from seventh year, but he seemed thinner, and his face looked even gaunter than it had once been, his nose even a bit flatter. But she could still see the Tom she met when she had first boarded the Hogwarts Express.

He broke into a smile. "Minerva, you are so gullible. I remember when—"

"What?" she snapped, annoyed by his joke. "When I was just a first year? When I didn't know right from wrong? When you coerced me into stealing from the trolley?"

"But you succeeded, didn't you?" he asked mildly as he took a seat and looked up at her.

Minerva fidgeted, feeling stupid all of a sudden. "That isn't the point!" she insisted. "The point is that afterwards, you ignored me! Then all of a sudden you've got this nickname—"

"And that's about the time when I started talking to you again, Minerva. I've missed your boldness, your humor."

"You didn't like it when I was a first year!"

"No, I don't believe I did. I didn't like many Gryffindors back then, I still don't."

The door opened and the very same woman Minerva had stolen from years ago stood there. "Anything from the trolley, dears?"

Minerva paled as she sat back down.

Riddle stood and addressed the woman. "Two chocolate frogs," he said as he winked at Minerva. The woman handed them to Riddle, eying him wearily.

When she left, Riddle turned to Minerva. "Chocolate frog?" he offered her one.

"Pft," she snorted, "now you offer me the candy. I tell you what—it's too late. I thought—at the end of forth year I thought we could still be friends, that you would still talk to me, but I got nothing, just like when I stole for you—I got nothing."

"Well I'm giving you a chocolate frog now," he said innocently. He looked at it carefully. "In fact, this shouldn't be too hard to…" he snapped his fingers and two more chocolate frogs appeared. "There you go." He handed her both of them and kept two for himself.

Minerva shook her head. "This isn't a power play, Riddle!"

"Who said it was?"

"I don't care how much power you have—it won't get you anywhere—not with me, anyway. Why do you need me anyway? Don't you have enough munchers?"

He didn't answer her; instead he took out his chocolate frog and dangled it by one leg. He ate it leg by leg; leaving the poor enchanted chocolate squirming.

"Why are you doing that!" Minerva exclaimed. Her face was flushed and frustrated. "What is with you? Why can't you just be like everyone else—why do you have to always do things like that—when no one's looking?"

"Well, Minerva, if someone was looking, I daresay they would be quite appalled."

"But if you plan to become a Dark Lord, wouldn't that include lots of appalling things?" she asked spitefully.

"Loads," he agreed. "But that's what the minions are for."

"And I suppose you won't ever have to do the dirty work—you don't want to cause the mayhem, just watch it."

"On a regular basis, yes. Killing can be dirty work—all that blood can get exhausting. It's a good thing for Avada Kedavara. I live on that one."

Minerva sent him a speculative glance. "You are joking, aren't you?" she asked nervously, as she backed farther away from Riddle.

He just chuckled as he devoured the frog. When he finished, he tossed her his second one. He waved his hand toward her, and for a second she thought he had cast some sort of spell on her, but she quickly tossed the idea aside. "I didn't come to your compartment to make another friend. I came to offer you the very position that I offered you in your forth year."

"And I reject. I will not become a Death whatever—what makes you think I would?" she demanded.

"I just thought you'd want to live through my reign," he said offhand as he opened the door to leave.

"You what?"

"Oh, you'll see someday, I'm sure. So long," he said as he left, his robes sweeping behind him. "Till next time…"

Nick and Dan skidded into her compartment. "Awww… it must have faded," said Dan in disappointment as his eyes travelled to his sister's hair.

"What—?" Minerva grabbed a strand of her hair and was relieved to see it in its normal brown shade.

"How could it have faded so fast!" exclaimed Nick in surprise. "It took Eddie three days for his to fade, and his hair still had some purple streaks in it!"

"You little—twerps!" she cried as she lunged for them.

"RUN!" The twins grabbed her chocolate frogs and bolted out of her compartment. Minerva watched their backs disappear down the corridor. She sighed and closed the door but paused in the middle of her motion, as she could have sworn she heard chuckling.

When she opened the door and looked back in the corridor, no one was there.

She shook her head stubbornly and turned back to her book about becoming an animagus. She was relieved Riddle hadn't seen through the illusion spell she had placed on her book. She planned to learn on her own, and she had a strange feeling that she shouldn't tell her old friend about it.

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-Labz