Fiat Lux
By Autumn Faery

AN: Here the story actually begins. Tom and Minerva are in their fifth year, and of course, both are prefects of their respective houses. The year is about 1942. To give you a sense of the times, here's a very rough timeline of major historical events that occured that year:

January 20 - Nazis at the Wannsee conference in Berlin decide that the "final solution to the Jewish problem" is relocation, and later extermination.

January 26 - World War II: The first American forces arrive in Europe landing in Northern Ireland.

June 12 - Holocaust: Future essayist Anne Frank receives a diary for her thirteenth birthday.

July 1 - July 27 - World War II: the First Battle of El Alamein

July 9 - Holocaust: Anne Frank's family goes into hiding in an attic above her father's office in an Amsterdam warehouse.

August 9 - Indian leader, Mohandas Gandhi is arrested in Bombay by British forces.

October 29 - Holocaust: In the United Kingdom, leading clergymen and political figures hold a public meeting to register outrage over Nazi Germany's persecution of Jews.

Okay, before I put you to sleep ... just keep in mind that this is the backdrop in which this story will be taking place.

Oh, yes, and I'd also like to adress of Tom and Minerva's ages. According to HP Lexicon, Tom's born on 1926 while Minerva was born on 1925, making her slightly older than Tom. However, the site also admit that these dates are very rough estimations. So just to make this clear, for this story the two will be of the same age.

Disclaimer: Oh please, I'm posting FANfiction on FANfiction dot net for no profit whatsoever ... you'd have to be a thick idiot to conclude that I'm somehow stealing JKR's work.

Chapter One

A Fight in the Great Hall

"What is tolerance? -- it is the consequence of humanity. We are all formed of frailty and error; let us pardon reciprocally each other's folly -- that is the first law of nature." -- Voltaire


"Indeed Mr. Riddle, indeed! Well done, my dear boy, well done!" Professor Slughorn crooned with pleasure, and in his excitement his enormous walrus-like mustache fluttered and wobbled haphazardly. "Twenty points to Slytherin."

At this, nearly all of the Slytherins made not-so-subtle noises of glee while the Gryffindors exchanged sullen looks of disgust. Tom Riddle, however, looked the same as ever; his smooth features did not appear proud or pleased at all. On the other hand, Slughorn seemed to be clearly oblivious of the overt enmity between his students. He chuckled happily. "As Mr. Riddle pointed out, Ashwinder eggs are quite valuable, for they serve as the ingredients to love potions and can cure ague when swallowed whole."

"But excuse me professor," a clear voice interrupted.

"Ah, yes, Ms. McGonagall?"

"I fail to understand their value," Minerva remarked, her emerald eyes inquisitive. "Are they not highly dangerous and flammable?"

"Why yes, Ms. McGonagall! Well done for noting a property even the most experience witches and wizards can sometimes oversee. Ten points to Gryffindor!" Slughorn seemed to bobble as he strolled around the room. "So what then, Ms. McGonagall, can be done to overcome this malignant property?"

"A simple freezing charm would probably do it," Minerva answered after a moment of consideration.

"Well answered, Ms. McGonagall! Another ten to Gryffindor! All right, that's all for today. Do not forget that your essays on the uses of dragon blood are due to me by the end of the week! At least 16 inches!"

Minerva couldn't help but to sigh in relief as she gathered her books and supplies; double potions with her least favorite house had always been a pain.

"Don't you ever wonder why Tom Riddle is a Slytherin?" She heard Augusta Willoughby murmur next to her, and turned sharply to face her friend with a questioning look.

"Well … it's just that he's so polite and amiable. All the teachers love him; they think him sweet and clever. And he does seem quite so different from them rude bunch in Slytherin," Augusta quickly explained with a hot blush, all while darting tentative glances at Tom Riddle, who now seemed to be immersed in conversation with Professor Slughorn with an avid, polite expression.

Minerva held back an impatient snort. "Augusta, I wouldn't trust him more than I would trust a flobberworm," she told her firmly as they exited the potions classroom. "There's something not quite right with him … something terribly ill and dangerous. I would be careful."

The other girl laughed dismissively. "Minerva, Minerva … just because if Tom Riddle didn't exist you'd be the top student of our year doesn't mean you'd have to fabricate such mal opinions about the poor bloke."

Minerva gritted her teeth and decided to hold back a retort, choosing instead to shove a heavy stack of notes into Augusta's arms. "Here, take this. This week's notes for charms—and you bunch! Just what exactly do you think you're doing?"

A few first year boys approaching them from the opposite direction stopped nervously in their tracks, failing miserably to conceal a crudely wrapped package in old Daily Prophets. One of them, a watery looking blond, groaned glumly. "We are doomed. Look, she's a prefect."

"You bet I am." Leaving Augusta standing wide eyed with an armful of charms notes, Minerva strode wrathfully towards to first years, shouting, "Revelio!" Instantly, the paper packaging disappeared.

The young boys watched in horror as Minerva's lips thinned. "Dungbombs … Dungbombs!" she bellowed. "You all ought know very well that they are forbidden in this school! That'll be—"

"Five points each," a cool voice cut in gently. "Now run along, boys." Before she could say otherwise, the first years whooped with relief and darted away, but not before casting admiring glances at their savior.

Minerva knew that infuriatingly smooth voice all too well. Turning furiously to face Tom Riddle, she snapped, "I can very much handle my prefect duties without your interception, thank you very much!"

The tall, black-haired boy looked very much unfazed, however. "Is that so, McGonagall," he replied wryly. "Petrify them with looks that kill, and then proceed to drain them of thirty points each, all with a week's worth of detentions. By the end of the week they'll be in the Infirmary for mental breakdowns."

Minerva narrowed her eyes, glaring hard at Riddle. "They broke the rules; I was severe but fair. You don't fool me, Riddle," she muttered at last. "You don't care about anyone past yourself, your selfish ambitions … and your penchant for charming others to your disposal."

For a split second, it seemed she had hit the mark squarely, for Tom Riddle looked uncharacteristically angry. But he was so quickly pleasant and cordial once again that Minerva wondered if she had imagined his anger.

"You wound me, dearest." He smiled derisively and placed a hand to his chest in mock-sorrow, his dark eyes gleaming.

"I try, Riddle. I try," she quipped almost automatically, and without another word, turned to descend the grand stairway to the great hall. Augusta, who had been rather confounded by the exchange, reluctantly followed her friend, but not before sneaking a last glance at the pale and handsome prefect.

Half way down the stairs Minerva heard her name called. She glanced up to see Riddle leaning languidly against the top of the staircase. "Don't forget you owe me a game of wizard chess and subsequent discourse this month," he called. "How about tomorrow evening in the library?"

Minerva could hear Augusta making choking noises of surprise next to her. Too irritated to respond, she quickened her steps and ignored Riddle.

"That'll be a yes, McGonagall," she heard him declare calmly.

Before they even reached the great hall, Augusta gripped Minerva's arm and whispered, "What was that?"

"Don't ask." She groaned. "Lost a bet to him at the end of last year. I owe him a game of wizard's chess now and then."

Her friend's pretty cornflower-blue eyes now glistened with curiousity. "What bet?"

Minerva grimaced. "Can I tell you another time? Right now the defeat is too humiliating to relive."

But Augusta seemed to have already dismissed what she had to say, for she was muttering next in disbelief, "I don't know how you do it, Minerva."

"Do what?" was the sharp reply.

"He certainly doesn't lack admirers, but he lavishes the most attention on you, even though you are quite merciless with him. Why, I'd say he fancies you!"

Minerva held back a sigh. As sweet and good as Augusta was, she was also at times a bit dense. "You don't understand. He does all this because he dislikes me the most," she tried to explain patiently as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. "You see, just about everybody is charmed by him … except for me … and he knows it."

Augusta peered at her friend and sighed unhappily. "But I still don't know why you dislike him so much. You have no reason to!"

Minerva opened her mouth indignantly, but before she could reply, Edmund Potter ran towards them, his expression disorientated and his prefect badge askew.

"Thank goodness you're here, Minerva!" He paused for breath before them and uttered a shuddering sigh of relief. "You've got come with me." Grabbing her wrist urgently, he led her to the end of the Gryffindor table where a crowd had gathered. "There's a fight going on between two girls. One of 'em's from our house, the other is a Slytherin," he explained quickly and parted the crowd.

"You filthy mudblood! If I were as hideous looking as you, I'd throw myself off a cliff!" She heard a feminine but strident voice shriek as a particularly nasty Wart-Growing Jinx flew past, barely missing the tip of her nose.

Outraged by such openly wicked behavior in the Great Hall, Minerva rolled up her long robe sleeves, put on a especially stern expression that she reserved only for prefect duties, and was about step in to stop the fight when a rather chubby figure belonging to Myrtle Milner retaliated by swearing loudly and simply throwing herself upon her opponent, a thinly build fourth year Slytherin whose name, Minerva knew, was along the lines of Olive or Olivia Hornby.

"ENOUGH!" Minerva cried and pointed her wand at the struggling bodies on the floor. "Petrificus totalus! Wingardium leviosa!"

Instantly, the two fighting girls became limp and motionless as they levitated midair. Two very different faces stared back at her: one with a truly spectacular black eye but a self-satisfied smirk, the other covered with warts and tears.

Forcing her gaze away from Myrtle's miserable face, Minerva spotted the second year's glasses, which had some how gotten thrown across the floor during the fight. Its frame was bent and its lens had shattered, scattering everywhere fine, tear-like pieces of shimmering glass. She waved her wand over the mess and muttered "Reparo". The fragments of glass instantly gathered back together as the frame unbent itself.

When she picked up the glasses and replaced it on Mytle's face, Minerva was glad that Edmund was already doing an excellent job patching the girls' wounds and scratches with a series of norverbal healing spells. Olive (or was it Olivera?) Hornby's black eye, for instance, was already gone. She quickly added the finishing touch by murmuring the anti-jinx incantation for the Wart-Growing Jinx, and released the girls from the wingardium leviosa and the full-body bind.

Next to her, Edmund Potter looked at the girls in horror and shuddered. "Er, right. Look, I've done my share of the spells. But this … I think they would be in your area of expertise rather than mine. I—sorry—good luck!" Before Minerva could say a word, he fled.

Feeling suddenly tired, she turned back to face the girls. "All right, you two. What have you got to say for yourselves?" she demanded in her hardest voice.

Olive Hornby shrugged carelessly. "That mudbloo—"

"Watch your language!" Minerva immediately barked.

"All right, all right. That muggle—"

"Hornby, I'm warning you."

"Myrtle was making moony eyes at Abraxas. His mine," she girl said simply, her beautifully large hazel eyes impertinent.

"I WAS NOT!" Myrtle, who had been preoccupied with shedding tears, suddenly wailed. "She's just using that as an excuse to call me ugly and torment me." Her shoulders shook violently as she broke into tears once more.

"So? You're the one that gave me a black eye."

"For a good reason. And you! You—"

"Thank you girls, that'll be enough," Minerva interrupted wearily. "For punishment forty points will be taken from Slytherin and Gryffindor."

"Forty points!"

"She can't be serious?"

"But Minerva, Olive is one that started it!"

"Was not!"

Minerva ignored the many voices of protest and declared with an air of finality, "It takes two to fight; my decision will not waver. I simply anticipate that this will never again happen." She sent Myrtle and Olive piercing looks. However, as she took in the former's downcast eyes and cheerless expression, her resolve broke as she laid a gentle hand on Myrtles wide shoulder.

"Cheer up, Myrtle," she told the girl soothingly. "Don't you ever take to heart what that Olive Hornby says—she's not worth it." Grinning, she added, "And that was a mighty good black eye. If I ever wish to induce one on a foe, I'll attempt to replicate it."

Her efforts were rewarded when Myrtle brightened considerably.

Leaving the girl with her second year companions, Minerva pursed her lips and marched towards the Slytherin table. There she found Olive Hornby, snug and smug, in the arms of Abraxas Malfoy, a sixth year prefect. Near and around them was the usual crowd of her favorite Slytherins: Riddle, Avery, Dolohov, Nott, Mulciber, and Rosier. She also noted with an inward scowl that Malfoy and Riddle, though prefects, had somehow been conveniently absent during the fight.

Deciding to drop all forms of pretense, she glared sharply at Olive Hornby. "You, Hornby! Yes you—don't give me that insolent look! What you just did was unacceptable."

Abraxas threw Minerva a venomous glare. "Getting a little drunk on your prefect privileges, aren't you McGonagall?" he sneered coldly. "Leave Olive alone. Haven't you already taken forty points?"

"Bugger off Malfoy," she snapped, irritated. Then, eyeing Olive earnestly, she insisted, "Look, I don't care if Myrtle was making moony eyes at Malfoy or not, but you've no right to call her those hateful things, especially those rude remarks about her background."

"Myrtle Milner is a mudblood and therefore unworthy," Olive maintained simply, as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

"No!" In her frustration she raked a hand through her hair, pulling several ringlets lose from her plait. "Since when has blood got anything to do with it? Such close-minded intolerance makes me ill with disappointment!"

At her words, nearly all of the Slytherins rose treacherously from their seats, wands poised and ready. Only Tom Riddle remained calmly in his seat, regarding her coolly with narrowed eyes … but something about his expression told her that he was the most dangerous of them all.

Minerva gave a withering sigh. "Very well. I see it is futile to reason with you thick bunch." Then, plastering her most sunny smile, she leaned towards Olive and muttered under her breath, "Hornby, just keep this in mind: If you call Myrtle a mudblood or torment her about her looks one more time, I will personally stupefy you, pack you in a crate, and send you floating on the Atlantic. Got it?"

Not bothering with the Slytherins' reactions, Minerva strode away furiously. She spotted Augusta and sank down next to her with a puff of anger and frustration.

"Difficult day, eh?" her friend murmured sympathetically, patting her shoulder.

Minerva buried her face in her hands. "I think all these classes, prefect duties, and Slytherins might just drive me crazy before the year ends."

"Hey, don't forget we have take our O.W.L.S. in June."

" … Thanks. You simply make my day."

AN: First, I'd like to give a heartfelt THANK YOU to those of you that reviewed! As for you--yes, I'm talking to you--if you haven't reviewed, please please do so. I won't even care if you give me a death threat. Really. You know how feedback is like bread and water to writers! Be nice. Press that pretty little blue button, say something, and feel good about yourself.

I have a pretty good idea of the things that's going to happen in this story. However, if you have ANY suggestions at all on plot and character developement, I'd LOVE to hear it from you! Thanks for reading.