Chapter 1: The Project

With a torn heart, Minerva McGonagall walked up to Tom Riddle who was standing at the front of the Potions class. She coughed briefly.

He didn't seem to notice her the first time. She coughed again.

'Riddle,' she began carefully.

He still kept packing his Potions supplies as if no one were talking to him. Behind him, Malfoy and Macnair were staring at her suspiciously.

'Riddle,' she tried again.

He finally condescended to look up. Minerva had an expectant look on her face.

'In case you did not hear, Professor Slughorn has assigned the Potions partners. We somehow got put together.'

'I did hear that,' he said smoothly, brushing off invisible dust from his uniform.

'I will do it myself, there is no need for your input,' he added briskly.

'You will do what yourself? The project?' she asked bewildered.

Riddle sighed impatiently.

'Yes.'

'I'm sorry, but I need to work on it too, I need the grade,' she said curtly.

'You will get an O,' he said indifferently.

'That's not how it goes. I don't want you doing my work. I want to participate,' she replied haughtily.

'I'm afraid you can't,' he said, his voice bearing a finality hard to dismiss.

With that, he walked right past her, followed by Malfoy, Macnair, Black and other Slytherin.

Minerva scoffed annoyed. It was always the same with Tom Riddle. He never worked with anyone, he never talked with anyone, he never socialized with any other living being than the off-putting group of followers he had gathered around him.

He had his select society which he didn't like to leave, without any exceptions.

She couldn't blame him. They supplied him with everything he needed; fear and silent adoration.

He even had a loyal girlfriend; Malfalda Black.

They were all rich purebloods, ready to satisfy any possible whim Riddle might have. And he was their crowned king, despite the fact that he was definitely not rich or a pureblood for that matter.

Was there a better position at Hogwarts except for that of Headmaster?

Therefore, Minerva was not surprised.

Until now, she had managed to interact with him as little as possible, not only because people generally avoided him, but because she was certain he was a foul human being who was cruel and cared for no one but himself. If they had ever chanced to speak to each other, it had ended on an argument on her side and indifference or malice on his.

She wouldn't have minded continuing on the same strong note, only now they were entering their Sixth Year and she couldn't afford to endanger her academic achievements because of him.

So against better judgement, she decided she should persist in tackling Riddle about the project.

'Let me guess,' her friend, Natalie Wood, said, sitting down next to her at the Gryffindor table, 'your talk to Riddle did not go well.'

'That and there is no pudding today,' Minerva admitted, looking down at her plate morosely.

'Come off it, Min. You knew from the start he would be difficult.'

'Yes, but I can't just turn around and forget it this time. I have to do my work.'

'I know, I know, you need your grade.'

'It's not just that. He's willing to work for the both of us,' Minerva confessed.

Natalie rolled her eyes.

'Why, Min, what's the problem then? He said he'd do your part, your grade is safe!'

'Natalie! That is completely unfair and unethical! I can't let him do my work. Plus, it's Riddle we are talking about. I would never want to owe him anything.'

'I agree to the last part,' Natalie joked, smiling.

Minerva shook her head stubbornly.

'Listen,' her friend began carefully, 'I know you're very proud of your achievements, but maybe you should just let him do it. He won't let you approach him either way.'

'I can't let go of my pride, for one thing. And I can't let Riddle win this one too. My future in Potions rests on this. The project will take half a year. I can't not work for four months. Imagine the waste of knowledge.'

'I understand, Min, but Riddle wins every battle with everyone, not just you,' Natalie argued.

'That's not true. I'm sure if I persevere and I stand my ground he will eventually relent, at least enough to let me do my work. I mean it's only a project.'

Natalie gave her a strange look.

'Minerva, you do know he almost got you killed in Fourth Year, right?'

'First off, it was Goyle who broke my arm and second, it was just a broken arm.'

'Yes, but he made Goyle do it because you dared to spite him,' Natalie argued.

'Well, Goyle only hit me with that Bludger during Quidditch and I survived,' Minerva countered.

'Might I remind you, you were in the crowd, not on the field!'

'I know, that was completely foul. But I got my revenge in Fifth Year.'

'You call giving him detentions revenge?'

'It's an elegant method for a Prefect,' she reasoned.

'Alright, nevermind Goyle, Riddle is your issue now. You don't want another fiasco like that again.'

'So what you're telling me is to just do nothing?'

'It hasn't hurt you until now, has it?' Natalie asked.

'No, Nat, I can't do it, not this time. It's Potions.'

Natalie rolled her eyes. Her friend did not know how to sort out her priorities at all.