AN: Written for round five of the Quidditch League Competition.

prompt: a character being chivalrous


Tom Riddle believed himself incapable of losing.


Tom first saw her on the train. He was walking through the many compartments when he saw her struggling with her trunk.
"May I help you?" he asked, flashing her a smile. He saw her blush slightly and nod. He put her trunk away for her and held out his hand.
"Tom Riddle," he said with a bow.
"Minerva McGonagall," she replied, humouring him with a curtsy.
As he spent the train ride talking to her he knew that she was different than him, oh so different. However her also knew that they could be good friends.

That was until she was sorted. He knew she might not get into Slytherin with him, but he thought for sure that she'd go into Ravenclaw. Not Gryffindor. He knew she still had a chance. Bravery could be beneficial, as long as she wasn't a goody two shoes.

For the first week he watched her from a distance and scoffed at the attitude of her house. He sent her a note at the end of the week. He would show her the respect she deserved.

He was already waiting when she arrived, leaning against the door so it was out of her way.
"I was worried you wouldn't come."
"Why wouldn't I? I would like to think we're still friends."
He smiled at her, "I was hoping you'd say that."
She frowned, "It is not going to be easy though, everyone is going to be against us."
"Maybe we could keep it quiet? Just until we know enough magic to defend ourselves?"
She sighed but agreed with him, as he knew she would. They planned to meet once a week before they snuck back to their common rooms, Tom making sure she was safety inside before heading back his own way.


In second year he started socializing more. He knew that it was worrying Minerva, she didn't approve of the people he started to hang out around. She begged and pleaded with him throughout the entire year and even though he saw no problem, he tried to reassure her.
"They're my house mates. Don't worry. I'll be fine." But, this only seemed to worry her more.

He only started to notice girls in third year because of the seventh years' Yule ball. He began to notice how attractive his secret friend actually was. He wondered if they would ever get to dance.


The answer was no.

The following year, the fourth through seventh years had a ball, but he didn't dance. And neither did she. They shared a glance across the room, each knowing what the other wanted and each knowing it was not safe to do so. As he left the great hall after the final song played, he decided that they would dance, and he began to plan.

When she arrived to their next meeting she was rambling on about something unimportant and didn't even notice when he turned the music on. "Shut up."

She froze, "Excuse me?"
"Stop talking, and come dance with me."
And before he knew it they were spinning around the tower in circles. Soon, that was all they did, dance as they talked and laughed. Their dance was full of the playful banter "I'm going to spin you now, My Lady" he would say.

"Are you, sire?" She'd ask sarcastically.

He couldn't help but wish that their houses got along.


Fifth year was his best year at Hogwarts; he made prefect and she made Quidditch captain. Their meetings went from once a week to two or even three times a week. Between the two of them they were set on getting first and second in their year for their O.W.L's.


Sixth year was worse. He knew that Minerva knew that it had not been Hagrid's pet. He knew that Minerva knew he had been involved. He saw the struggle in her eyes as they danced. Trying to make sense of the person she saw in front of her killing someone. She didn't change her attitude but he felt like he was losing her.


By seventh year he had lost her.

He had chosen his side.

She tried to bring him back over and over again. Sometimes it would work for a little while, but eventually she gave up.
Then it was his turn. He tried to get her to join him. He tried to convince her he was right. But he also knew he was losing a friend (or perhaps something more) because of a difference of opinion.
She noticed when he started to try to win her back. He stopped trying to change her mind and started listening to her. She knew that he tried to see the world as she did, but he couldn't. Minerva suspected he couldn't understand love, but Minerva knew in some back corner of her mind, she could have loved him.
By the end of the year they didn't talk, they hardly saw each other, and the romance that had barely begun ended with both sides wishing it hadn't.

In the first war all he could remember was the girl he'd met on the train. He nearly threw away important missions to keep her safe. He couldn't kill her while she while she was still his Minerva, his Lady.

When he came he could not feel even the slightest hint of love. He knew she would never join him and that she was simply another obstacle in his way.

The rest of the war was a different kind of dance. He laughed as they fought, she was one of the only real threats, he wished he could have changed her mind. He felt like the phrase "shut up and dance with me" hung in the air between them. Until there was no longer a 'them'.


He was wrong.


AN: Thanks for reading