Voldemort smiled. It was something he so rarely did that it actually felt strange on his face. Now, it wasn't as though his face was in a continuous negative state. No, he smirked, grinned and leered at random over the course of the day. However, it took a lot to make him really want to smile. As he watched his two star pupils duel in his office that night, two weeks into October, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly proud at their progress. The fact that these two were the ones that stood out the most, both in his classes and in his duelling club came as a bit of a surprise, but a welcome one if anything. Both were Slytherins, which shouldn't shock anyone, but Voldemort had never expected a girl to be a standout. She was a seventeen year old blonde, vivacious and confident in every class he taught. Evelyn Quinn Cross hailed from a devout pureblood family in Northern Ireland. She insisted on duelling every time he had a club gathering, and nine times out of ten she was either the winner or a close second by the end of the night. Her usual competition came from Drake O'Dwyer, a Slytherin sixth year with a short stature and a fairly unattractive outer appearance. They were physical opposites, but Voldemort picked up on their sameness on the inside right away.

The main reason why his former house tended to win the duelling competition was because they were willing to be as underhanded as the rulebook allowed. They were infuriatingly devious, and Voldemort saw the frustration on the faces of their competitors whenever there was a night where the snakes dominated. For some time, he noticed it was the competition between individuals that fuelled his duelling clubs. However, as October rolled along, the other three houses gossiped about potential cheating by the Slytherin house. All of a sudden, the duelling club shared the same heated competition that Quidditch matches brought between the houses. Despite the tension it caused with his students, his peers thought it was brilliant how involved he was with them, and how enthusiastic the program had made the Hogwarts pupils about learning and developing their personal skills.

Ever since Voldemort's "drunken" episode at Minerva's birthday bash, everyone on the staff team had been much warmer toward him. That had been his intention with the incident, and he returned their friendly smiles with secretly smug grins. Because he was the one who had gotten too drunk too early at the party, Voldemort was no longer the invincible newcomer that they all saw him as. He was less unapproachable when they saw that "flaw" he orchestrated for them, and that was the way he wanted it to be. Although he preferred the untouchable vibe he had carefully concocted in September, he quickly realized that if he ever wanted anything from anyone else on the staff, he would have a difficult time doing it if they felt uneasy around him. For now, he decided it would be better to be seen as the slightly asocial new guy who couldn't really hold his alcohol. It was a little better than the continuously asocial new guy who hated everyone and wouldn't tolerate anything unless it was work related. He didn't want friends, but he also didn't want the few adults in this castle to be so turned off by a poor attitude that he needed to work harder to use them when necessary.

Getting them on his side may have been a little extra work now, and certainly not what he wanted, but he knew it was for the best later down the line. At some point, he would need to approach a fellow professor, and if he wasn't as intimidating as before, it wouldn't take as much work to wriggle something out of them. This applied, for the most part, toward Minerva McGonagall. She had endured the full blast of his drunken episode on the night of her birthday party. Hell, she had actually gone so far as to remove his coat and shoes before setting him in bed, as if he was a child. While she might have had a sour attitude on her face while she helped him, it paid off over the next few days. She had actually skipped one of her lessons that she was supposed to monitor! He wasn't sure if it was because she had been busy with her own life in the castle (being a professor was actually much more time consuming than he previously expected), or perhaps Minerva decided he was less harmless after she had seen him drunk, but she just didn't show up. It was actually a little liberating to not have her sitting at the back of the room, watching her from over her own Defense syllabus. He didn't venture too far from the course material, but he added more snide comments toward the administration and the Ministry in his lectures than he would have if she had been there.

Naturally, the woman was back for her next scheduled lecture with him, monitoring the same as she always did. That one lesson she missed, however, gave him hope that his good behaviour and his recent display of weakness might be breaking her down a little. Only time would tell, but her would like to think that by November, he would have her questioning whatever Dumbledore told her about Tom Riddle. This was a bit of a lofty goal, to be honest. He had watched the pair over the course of his time at Hogwarts, and he saw how exceptionally close they were. Any idiot might assume it was a romantic relationship brewing in private, but Voldemort was anything but an idiot. He never saw the obvious in people. Albus and Minerva had a paternalistic relationship, if anything, and he saw her as Dumbledore's lieutenant in the castle. Despite having better and older alternatives to pick from, Dumbledore chose her. There had to be something special about this woman if Albus put his faith in her. For now, Voldemort had yet to see the appeal. She was physically attractive enough, but certainly Dumbledore wouldn't use her for looks alone. He wasn't a man of the times, this wizard. She was intelligent, short with her students, and held her own with Voldemort every chance he gave her. The woman was a frustrating enemy, but he could see her as a useful ally when the time came.

Currently, it was not the time. Right now, Voldemort focused on forcing himself onto good terms with the woman, if only to get her off his back just a little bit. He was succeeding, or so he'd like to think, but progress was slow. It was an ongoing project, if anything. That little project was coupled with his transformation of the student body into useable soldiers for his cause once they were finished with school. At the moment, he lounged in his office chair, completely at attention, yet relaxed, as if the duel before him meant nothing.

This was the third time he had Evelyn and Drake together, but Evelyn had worked with him privately on almost eight separate occasions since the start of term. She was an exceptionally talented young witch in the subjects she cared about, which included his lessons, Minerva's class, and her charms work. However, things like Herbology and Potions were among some of her lower marks, which meant she wouldn't be on anyone's radar as a star student. While this was a detriment to her and her future, it was perfect for Voldemort. She excelled with every correction he gave her, and he saw her holding back in the public duels with every private teaching he gave her. She never wanted to completely annihilate her opponent even though at this point Voldemort was sure she could have. Drake progressed just as well as she did, though he was a touch weaker in his wandwork. Naturally, he was younger, and still had a year or so of catching up to do to be at her level. In time, they would both be ready.

His smile grew as Evelyn managed to disarm Drake completely, and before he could call the duel, the girl turned her opponent into a rather large slug. He pursed his lips, and then decided it was acceptable as long as it didn't leave a mess on his carpet.

"Excellent charm, Evelyn," he purred, leaning forward to examine Drake's new appearance curiously, "a very adequately transformed slug."

"Adequate?" she repeated, her eyebrows shooting up. "What's wrong with him?"

"There's nothing wrong with the word adequate," Voldemort remarked sharply, a grin still on his face. "Satisfactory is also a word that you all seem to have a problem with… You cannot think that turning him into a slug was a highly original finale to the duel. Therefore, I call it adequate."

She frowned a little, and then shifted her weight to one leg, her hip cocked out as she crossed her arms, "I guess."

"Learning to accept praise is an admirable quality, Evelyn," he told her as he pointed his wand at Drake and turned him back into a person. He wanted to let him stay like that a little longer, to teach him that humiliation came with defeat, but he needed to get them out sooner than he liked. Unfortunately, exams ran during this week and the next for everyone in the castle, and he had a lot to mark before the weekend.

"I almost had her!" Drake protested as he picked himself up, dusting off some slime residue distastefully, "You got lucky this time around, Cross."

"Luck had nothing to do with it," Voldemort argued softly, silencing both pupils before some juvenile argument broke out. "Evelyn managed to catch you when you lowered your wand on the defensive spell… You were too slow to make your shield, and she took advantage of your weakness. Consider it a lesson learned."

"Yes, sir," the boy grumbled sullenly, his eyes cast down. "I'll do better next time."

"There will only be a next time if you keep winning your duels," Voldemort said decidedly, which made Evelyn smirk. "Both of you get my attention because you perform so remarkably… Quite ahead in your studies compared to your peers. I hope it will stay that way."

"Of course," Evelyn said, shooting a look at Drake. "I don't know why either of us would purposefully lose. Your lessons are too valuable."

That was what he wanted to hear. He leaned back in his chair with a nod and then waved absently at the door, "Good. The duel was average tonight, and I will write up my thoughts for both of you and my recommendations for future spell usage now. I'll give them out in your next lessons. You're dismissed."

"Thank you, sir," Drake said before he departed, no doubt eager to avoid the location of his defeat for a few days. He wasn't sure if the two were friends outside of his little lessons, but from what he remembered of the Slytherin house, most suffered for their shortcomings once they stepped into the Common Room. His eyes drifted toward Evelyn as she moved toward the door without saying anything. However, instead of stepping out, she shut the door behind Drake, leaving her and Voldemort alone in his office.

"Was there something else you wish to discuss, Evelyn?" Voldemort inquired as he shuffled some papers around on his desk. He then retrieved the first stack of second year exams he needed to correct and set them out in front of him, a clear sign he had other priorities for the evening.

"I just wanted to tell you how appreciative I am of all your lessons," she told him, her hands clasped behind her back as she sauntered toward him. "No other professor has ever taken such an interest in me."

"You are a talented young witch," Voldemort praised half-heartedly, quill in hand as he skimmed the first set of multiple choice answers on an exam paper, crossing out two that were wrong. "I feel it necessary to ensure your talents flourish before you graduate."

If she was looking for more compliments, she would be looking for some time. While he acknowledged her skill, she was still in the elementary level compared to some of his Death Eaters. She was an excellent pupil within these walls, but outside he was sure his followers could have her on the ground screaming in a matter of minutes. Besides, Voldemort was not the type of person to give praise so willingly. When he did, it remained in short supply until the next time the individual in question did something profound enough to earn his attention.

"I was thinking…" she started, stopping so that she was pressed directly against the front of his desk. His eyes flickered up slightly, and he frowned. "There might be some way I could repay you for all your… extra attention these past few weeks."

He stopped writing mid-word when he realized she had leaned down on his desk, resting her head on her hands coquettishly. If he wanted to, he knew there was an opportunity to look down the slightly unbuttoned top of her shirt, but he kept his eyes on the paper for a moment before he met her gaze. Hers was warm, inviting, and it took a mere second in her mind to know what she wanted. Although he knew what was coming, he said nothing and merely arched an eyebrow in response. Taking that as the go ahead, she leaned forward, her eyelids half-closed in what he perceived as an attempt to be seductive, and then reached out to touch him. That was a step too far, and he managed to catch her by the wrist.

"Miss Cross," he whispered, "I'm sure you are aware that this is highly inappropriate behaviour."

Her lips peeled back in a feral grin, and ignoring his tone, she continued to move forward. To his credit, he wasn't the slightest bit interested in her. Some men would be jumping at the chance to get a little action with a pretty young thing, especially when the prospects were limited in a professional environment like Hogwarts. However, Voldemort had no intention of doing anything with a student, nor was he particularly keen on women over ten years his junior. Women, in general, didn't exactly catch his attention romantically. It wasn't as though he was interested in men by any means, but women brought too much emotion into a relationship, and that emotion was something he could neither understand nor have the patience to deal with.

However, this was clearly nothing to do with romance. If anything, Evelyn thought this was the way to get ahead, and coming from a pureblood family, it didn't exactly surprise him. Few women from completely traditional backgrounds became much more after school than a wife or mistress. Times were changing, yes, and Voldemort welcomed the change – an able body was an able body, regardless of gender – but times changed slowly in the 1950s. For now, this girl knew nothing more than to use her feminine wiles to get what she wanted from a man, and he decided to let her think she had him hooked. By doing so, he had her.

With her slim wrist still clasped in one hand, he caught her by the chin with the other, and she nearly lost her balance as she basically sprawled across his desk. She fluttered her lashes, making him tighten his grip on her.

"Let me be clear with you," Voldemort hissed, careful to keep his tone friendlier than he was feeling. "I have much to teach you still. We will work together all year, and by the end, you'll be excellent, not adequate."

Her cheeks flushed as he pulled her a little closer, "And you can repay me for my time when you are no longer my student. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she breathed, her eyes darting between his and his lips. Smirking only slightly, he released her with a bit of a shove, and then nodded dismissively toward the door.

"Come back on Saturday evening at seven… I'll teach you the finesse of my favourite Unforgivable."

"Thank you."

Voldemort nodded again, "Now… Out you go."

And with that, he resumed correcting the exam in front of him, not giving Evelyn the slightest bit of attention until she was nearly out of his office. He smiled again. He always did when he lured another one of them in.


AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I think love is interesting to write with Voldemort. I don't think he understands what love is in the slightest, and as the consequence of a love potion gone wrong, it's obvious why. However, I think that's a fun dynamic to play with, and the brief line about him not understanding it seems the best way to describe it. He doesn't get it and I don't think he cares about it. Now, that being said, it'll be interesting to swing this into a romance, but I think there are ways of making it work.

Now, I wanted to write a teacher-student dynamic for two reasons. A) It's a way for Voldemort to woo in a girl that could be useful later. B) After my few years in the RPG world, I hated seeing this kind of romance. It wouldn't happen at Hogwarts. NO ONE would be slick enough to make it work. Maybe an attraction or a flirtation, but it just wouldn't happen. Ergo, Voldemort rejects her as a bit of my rejection to that period of roleplaying. It just bothered me. And, you know, he rejected her for obvious other reasons, but there's definitely a little bit of me in there. I can let AU relationships slide in some fanfics, I think, but when it comes to roleplaying, I was a bit less lenient. Maybe I'm too much of stickler for these things.

Also, I'll let you decide what Voldemort's favourite Unforgivable Curse is. For fun. And I actually missed Minerva in this chapter. She'll be back, like a total boss, in the following one.

It's a shorter chapter than usual, but I thought it worked with its length. MUCH LOVE TO EVERYONE, and thank you for the brilliant reviews!