A/N: Updated April 2021. Thanks for reading!

For disclaimer, please see the prologue.

Chapter Five: March 6, 1939

Aidan, Harriet, Charlotte and Minerva exited the greenhouses with grim expressions on their faces. They had had their first experiences with mandrakes, and no one had taken a particular liking to the plant. Augusta had fainted, and Poppy had escorted her up to the Hospital Wing. Aidan and Harriet had successfully killed their plant, Aidan having chucked it across the room to stop its screaming and impaling it on a thorny plant. He had lost Gryffindor twenty points for his "obscene and appalling lack of empathy for plant life," not that he minded. Charlotte and Minerva hadn't fared much better. They had eventually repotted the mandrake, but they both had significant headaches to show for it.

"Remind me to never, ever, ever attend a Herbology class again," Aidan groaned. "The blasted thing wouldn't stop whining. I wanted to off myself, I really did."

"That was unpleasant," Charlotte agreed. "I'm not really looking forward to the final if we have to handle those again."

"I wonder if I can still graduate if I stop going to Herbology classes. Min, what do you reckon?" Aidan asked.

"Merlin, are you serious?" Minerva glowered at him. "I expect that you would not graduate if you had failed the second-year level of a compulsory class."

"Blimey, you're in a mood, aren't you?" Aidan held up his hands, surrendering. "Okay, so I won't quit. I might see if Cal and I can find some way to get the mandrakes to disappear, though."

Harriet giggled, "I would thank you if you did!"

The foursome rounded the corner when Rowena smashed into them. "Oh, thank Merlin! Min, you've got to come and see this!" She grabbed Minerva's hand and started pulling her down the hall.

"What is going on, Ro? I have a massive headache, there was this whole business with the mandrakes-" Minerva stopped short. She saw Selena Jordan, the Quidditch commentator's younger sister, facing down three wands. "What do you want me to do, Ro?" she hissed.

"Stop it, somehow! I have no idea where any of the Prefects are, but they're nowhere to be found, and, well," Rowena swallowed, "I wasn't about to take three Slytherins on alone."

Minerva rolled up her sleeves and felt for her wand in her pocket. "Stay behind me, okay?" She walked over to the group of Slytherins. Getting closer, she could see Katrina and Lysander Black were two of the people taunting Selena. The third Slytherin's identity wasn't known to Minerva, but he looked relatively small, so she presumed he was a first-year like Selena. "Hey! What do you lot think you're playing at? Selena's a first-year!"

Katrina sneered at the intrusion. "Well, well, well, if it isn't McGonagall. Got your tongue out of my cousin's mouth long enough to stick your nose into other people's business?"

Rowena gasped, but Minerva merely rolled her eyes. "Oh, grow up, Katrina. I'm not dating your cousin, get over yourself." Her eyes twinkled evilly. "I know pure-blood families usually marry cousins; are you just mad he would never go for you?"

Katrina whipped her wand out. "Stupefy!"

Minerva comfortably cast a Protego, protecting herself and Rowena from harm. "I see I hit a nerve there, hmm?" She changed the subject, eager to get the girl out of harm's way. "What did Selena do to you?" Minerva gestured at the crying first-year in front of them.

"She had the nerve to correct my answer in Charms," spat the first year. "I don't need to be corrected by anyone, especially not nasty little mudbloods."

"You'll pay for that!" Rowena cried, raising her wand as well.

"If you touch him, I'll curse this one's hair off." Lysander smiled wildly, his mouth opening wide enough that the girls could see which teeth of his were still missing after the last Quidditch final. Minerva found herself thanking Madam Prewett for only fixing half of his mouth. His wand was pointed unwaveringly towards Selena, who had started to convulse.

"Let her go, and we'll sort this out. We can duel, us two against you three. Just let her go before the stress becomes too much," Minerva offered, betting on the chance that Katrina would relish the opportunity to fight her.

"There will be none of that, Miss McGonagall," Minerva winced, hearing Dumbledore's commanding voice. He sounded angrier than she had ever heard before, including when Diana was injured, and she suddenly saw a lot of detentions in her future. "All of you will lower your wands. Now," Dumbledore demanded, waiting until they had all done so. "Miss Jordan, are you alright?" The girl sniffled and nodded before breaking down into tears once more. "Miss Lovegood, if you would, please escort Miss Jordan to the Hospital Wing. Ask Madam Prewett to administer a Calming Draught. Off you go," he said, not unkindly.

Rowena gave Minerva a sympathetic glance before taking Selena's hand, walking off in the direction of the Hospital Wing. "Come on, Selena. Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

Professor Slughorn ran panting down the corridor, waving aimlessly at Rowena and Selena as he passed. "Albus, why in the devil did I have to meet you down here, of all places?"

Minerva could tell that Dumbledore was annoyed, and she believed Slughorn barmy to not be able to see it, too. "Horace, three of your students," he gestured at the group, "felt the need to corner Miss Jordan and torment her needlessly. She was quite upset, rightfully so. I trust that you will, at the very least, have a talk with them and escort them back to their dormitory."

"Albus, I find it hard to believe that these three tormented anyone, especially Mr. Riddle. Tom here is only in his first year, how much damage could he really cause?"

Ah, so the devil has a name, Minerva thought, and his name is Tom Riddle. Her musings were interrupted by Dumbledore.

"Regardless of year, Horace, he was here with them, causing emotional harm. I hope you handle the situation accordingly."

"Tom, my boy," Slughorn sighed. "I trust that you'll follow the examples of Miss Rowle and Mr. Black next time, and avoid-"

"Professor Slughorn, he was following their example!" Minerva exploded. "He called her the m-word, all of their wands were raised. Besides, have you forgotten what these two did to my sister? What kind of example was that?"

"Miss McGonagall, that is enough." She felt Dumbledore's hand press firmly into her shoulder. "Horace, take them back to the Slytherin common room. Now, please. Miss McGonagall, come with me back to my office."

Minerva gulped, glaring at the Slytherins as she walked by. They were chuckling, no doubt about to be let off the hook. And here she was, about to get slapped with numerous detentions. Her headache worsened.

Dumbledore opened the door to his office when they arrived, gesturing for her to sit down. "Now, Miss Mc-"

"Professor, I'm sorry, but I had better not get any more detentions than they will! Katrina fired a spell at us, Ro and me, on top of the sheer emotional torture inflicted on poor Selena! I only cast a Protego, you can check," Minerva scowled, throwing her wand across the desk.

"You know how to cast a Protego?" Dumbledore asked, intrigued as he sat down across from her.

"I'm thirteen, Professor. Of course, I know how to cast a simple Protego," Minerva huffed.

"I think you would find that not all of your classmates can do the same, Miss McGonagall, regardless of age," he sighed. "And for the record, you will not be receiving any detentions. Mr. Scrimgeour and company caught me in the hallway, yelling about you being dragged away. I saw enough to know that you were not in the wrong. Ten points to Gryffindor," he smiled ironically at her, "for your bravery." Dumbledore handed Minerva her wand back and looked at her, seemingly indecisive. "Miss McGonagall, I hate to ask this of you, but it would do me a great comfort if you were to avoid Mr. Riddle in future."

Minerva was aghast. "Professor, I didn't even know who he was until twenty minutes ago. I won't be seeking him out again, that's for sure."

"I know," her Professor said gently. "However, Mr. Riddle has a penchant for seeking out those who are truly powerful, and I fear that your display of bravery and knowledge of spells will keep him captivated, for want of a better phrase."

Minerva blushed scarlet. "What do you mean, he's all of a sudden going to profess his love for me? Merlin, I'm thirteen, and he's what? Eleven? Twelve?"

She noticed that there was a faint pink dusting across Dumbledore's cheeks at her words. "No, Miss McGonagall, I'm not suggesting that. He has a fascination with power and magic, and what powerful magic can do. You may have piqued his interest, and I want to ensure that you are well protected."

"What in the bloody hell do you think he's going to do to me, Professor?" Minerva swallowed. "How dangerous can a first-year be? What do you know about him?"

There was a slight hesitation before Dumbledore answered her. "He's not dangerous, merely curious. I would simply hate to see one of my star students be drawn into the same intrigue. Please, Miss McGonagall. Stay clear of him."

Minerva searched his face for clues, but he was expressionless. "Okay, Professor. I will. He can't possibly be worse than Katrina and Lysander, though, can he?"

"They are his role models," Dumbledore sighed, rubbing his temples, "and he is both more powerful and more ambitious than them. I appreciate you standing up for your fellow students, but you're to find me if you ever see him in a similar position again. Understood?"

"Perfectly, sir," Minerva murmured, her mind reeling with questions that she knew she would never have the answers to. She stood up and left his office, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed. The mandrakes may have caused the headache wreaking havoc on her brain, but the mystery of Tom Riddle had certainly made it much, much worse.