A/N: Updated April 2021. I hope you like it!

For disclaimer, please see the prologue.

Chapter Six: December 6, 1939

"Miss McGonagall, stay for a minute, if you please," Professor Slughorn called jovially as the third-year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws packed up at the end of class. Rowena and Aidan gave her a sorry look, knowing how much Minerva despised their Potions professor. Minerva hadn't explicitly said what had happened between herself and Slughorn, but after the incident with Riddle, Rowle, and Black, Minerva hadn't held quite the same affinity for the subject.

"Yes, Professor?" Minerva asked politely.

"Miss McGonagall, are you involved in any extra-curricular activities while you're at school?" Slughorn inquired.

Minerva felt a flicker of shame at the annoyance that crept into her words. Every professor knew that she had one of the more robust CVs where extra-curricular activities were concerned. "Yes, sir. I play as a Chaser for my house team, I participate in the duelling club, I'm a tutor for the peer-tutor program, and I..." she trailed off when she realized that Slughorn didn't really care what she did. "Why do you ask, Professor?"

"Well, dear girl, I know that you're considered to be one of Hogwarts' more impressive students," he winked at her, much to her disgust. "However, you are missing out on one of the more crucial activities here at school, and I would like to rectify that situation."

Minerva had no bloody clue what the man was going on about. "Sir?"

"I would like to personally invite you to join," Slughorn gestured theatrically, "the Slug Club!"

"I'm sorry, the what?" It took everything in her not to laugh. "I've never heard of the Slug Club, Professor."

"That would be because it's an elite and secret club here on campus, founded by myself, of course. Each year, I select a few of Hogwarts' brightest and most powerful students to induct into the Slug Club." Slughorn paused, a boastful smile playing upon his lips. "Each witch and wizard in the club is subsequently mentored by me and has gone on to do great and wonderful things after Hogwarts. A combination of their prowess and a certain leveraging of my connections opens many, many doors for Slug Club graduates."

"And you want me to partake in this club?" Minerva scoffed. She had a healthy enough ego to know that she could do whatever she wanted after Hogwarts, with or without the Slug Club.

"Well, of course. You're obviously bright; you have only ever received top marks. You have an innate talent that exudes power. Your sister, Diana, was a member. How did you think she secured such a high post with the Department of International Magical Cooperation, right out of Hogwarts? Diana clearly is intelligent, but I pulled some strings with the hiring committee," Slughorn continued, ignoring Minerva's shocked expression. "I would have invited your brother, but he has a penchant for trouble, even as Prefect. You don't seem to share that particular inclination," Slughorn laughed heartily. "Would you like to join us? Our conversations would surely be much more intriguing with you at the table."

Minerva hesitated. Slughorn had just divulged quite a load of information. She wasn't too pleased that he had insulted her brother, but she was astonished that Diana had been a member. It was more than a little annoying, Minerva considered, that Diana had been so boastful about her appointment when she hadn't strictly earned it on her own merit. "What sort of -um- activities, do you do, Professor?"

"We have intellectual discussions, of course! Fine dining and even finer company! Now, Minerva -I call all of my Slugs by their first name, it helps promote a more intimate setting- I must admit to an ulterior motive in asking you today. You see, I usually have a Christmas party for the Slug Club," Slughorn said, "and it's always the first event for new inductees. It takes place Saturday next at half-past six, in the empty classroom on the fifth floor, the one by the merfolk painting. You can invite whoever you want, of course, to accompany you. We're not so pure-minded that all of our interactions are censored." He laughed jovially.

Minerva joined in half-heartedly. She didn't recall expressly agreeing to be a member, but Slughorn seemed to mistake her reluctant questioning for acceptance. "Right, well, thank you for the invitation, professor. I'll be sure to make it. Is there a dress code for these things?"

Slughorn laughed, "Not normally, but there is a semi-formal dress code for the Christmas party. I look forward to seeing you there!"

Minerva nodded and left the classroom, wondering when she had made the mistake of captivating Professor Slughorn's attention.

Two days later, Minerva hadn't succeeded at getting the Slug Club party out of her mind. Aidan had laughed hysterically at her, making snide comments about the fact that she would now be subjected to a night hobnobbing with the Slytherin elite. To be honest, she was starting to think he had a point. Minerva had a lot on her plate already; she didn't exactly need the extra commitment.

However, the world seemed like it was not on her side concerning the Slytherin house. She was in the library, minding her own business when someone placed a second-year textbook down beside her own. "I'm busy if you don't mind," Minerva murmured, not looking up.

"I simply have a quick question for you, Minerva." She looked up to find Tom Riddle and groaned inwardly. "Would you do me the honour of escorting me to the Slug Club party?"

She was gobsmacked. Contrary to what Dumbledore had told her in the spring, Riddle hadn't approached her after that incident. Minerva had honestly started to believe that for whatever reason, Dumbledore just hadn't taken a shining to Riddle. Now, looking at his smirk, she realized that Riddle was far too smart for that. No, he was fittingly a snake, biding his time in the shadows, waiting for the opportune moment to come out and strike. "That's very kind of you, Riddle. But no," Minerva didn't mince words. "If you want to go to the party, you can ask someone else in the club."

"Oh, Minerva," he smiled at her wickedly. "I'm a member. Slughorn told me he invited you to be a member of our little group. I thought you might want to attend your first party on the arms of an experienced member."

That's quite enough out of you, Minerva thought wryly. "Again, that's kind of you, Riddle. Again, the answer is no."

"And why is that, Minerva?" He sneered, and she had never hated the sound of her own name more. "Too young for you? I'll have you know that while you're fourteen, I will be thirteen at the end of the month. Is it because I'm in Slytherin? I would have thought you'd be better than that."

"No, rather because you appear to know when my birthday is," Minerva retorted dryly.

"You can't show up alone, you know. And we would do well together." Riddle's eyes were glinting in the candlelight. "We would make a formidable pair."

Minerva started packing up her things, clearly unable to get any work done. Her mind thought back to her conversation with Dumbledore: Riddle wanted powerful and shiny things, and he seemed to see her as such. "I won't show up alone." She began to leave but turned around at the last second, Dumbledore's opinion be damned. Minerva was in a mood to tempt fate. "You see, I don't need a date, contrary to what you may think. I don't need to be part of a pair, Riddle. I'm formidable enough on my own." She turned and rushed all the way to Gryffindor Tower, not stopping until she was sure Riddle couldn't follow her anymore. Minerva was relieved to find Callum, Lucy, Aidan, and Harriet sitting on the couches in the common room, laughing at something she couldn't care less about.

"Aidan?" Minerva stormed over to the group.

"Yea? Oi, what did I do this time?" Aidan whined, correctly judging that she was in a foul mood. "McGonagall, if you think it was me who took all the scarves from the elves and sewed them together, I swear, it wasn't-"

"Will you go to the Slug Club Christmas party with me?" Minerva's eyes were blazing.

The group fell silent. "We shouldn't be here," Lucy muttered to Callum and Harriet. "Let's go. Now."

"No, stay." Minerva held up her hand. "Aidan, will you go with me or not?"

Aidan's face was so red he might as well have been a tomato. "Er, is this a date, McGonagall?"

"Merlin, no," Minerva laughed morosely and sunk down onto the couch beside him. "Riddle is a right git, and I need someone to go with me who will make him stay far, far away. I can't show up alone, not after today."

"Minnie? What exactly did he do?" Callum reached over, grabbing her hand. "What happened?"

"Stop calling me that, Cal," she glared. When he didn't rise to her bait, she sighed. "He asked me to go with him to the party."

"He did not!" Lucy said, aghast. "That boy is creepy if you ask me."

Callum turned to face his girlfriend. "Did he ask you to the party, too?"

Lucy laughed. "No, I'm not his type. And I'm much too old for him. Besides, I'm already in the Slug Club, and he probably figures, rightly, that I'll be asking my boyfriend."

"You're also in the Slug Club?" Harriet sighed. "Crikey, I feel stupid."

"LUCE! Since when are you a part of the club?" Callum gaped. "Why didn't I know?"

"Because you'd think I'm crazy for doing it. I've been a part of it for years," Lucy shrugged. "You're the one who bought the story that I always had to go to the Owlery to take care of the birds every week for the last four years. Diana and I had a lot of fun. She told me how to get you to ask me out!"

"Slughorn is too involved in our lives," Callum moaned, sliding off the couch. "How do we get rid of him now?"

"Hey, Cal? Luce is going to the party," Minerva nudged her brother's shoulder with her foot, laughing when he glared up at her from his spot on the floor.

Lucy shot a grateful look at Minerva. "Yea, and if you weren't so focused on the fact that I am a part of the ridiculously named "Slug Club," you would have heard that I want to ask you to come with me."

"Yeah? Cool, yeah, I'll go with you," Callum blushed. "It'll be a family affair!"

"If Callum is going, I'm definitely going with you, McGonagall," Aidan said, grinning. "We'll protect you. And get sufficiently drunk off of Butterbeer at the same time."

"Thank you for coming to my rescue," Minerva rolled her eyes. "How very kind of you to come with me to spend time with my brother."

Aidan snorted, then perked up. "Hey, Harriet, you should go with Riddle! Come with us! I'm sure he'll go with you!"

The rest stared at him in silent horror as Harriet ran away up to the dorms, crying. Minerva slapped his arm, and Lucy muttered, "Oh, shit. I'll go up."

"Oh, Aidan, Aidan, Aidan," Callum grimaced. "I have so much to teach you about women. That was the wrong thing to say, mate."

"I wanted her to come with us!"

"You don't suggest that the only way she can come is to go with the spawn of Satan!" Minerva was exasperated. "Good lord, Aidan, you've been friends with us for how long, and you still don't get it?"

"Aidan, we're going to have a brotherly chat tonight," Callum patted Aidan's knee. "I have so much wisdom to impart before I leave the hallowed halls of Hogwarts."

"Don't remind me that this is your last year," Aidan whined. "I'm not ready to be the lone Gryffindor prankster."

Minerva stood up, sensing the shift in conversation. "I'm going to go to bed and check on Harriet. Aidan, there's a dress code for Saturday. Semi-formal." She smirked when he paled considerably. "I suggest you add semi-formal dress to your list of topics for this brotherly chat."

"Min, you look good," Lucy said approvingly. The pair were getting ready for the Christmas party, and Minerva was admittedly nervous. It was her first fancy party, and there was some stupid, girly part of her that wanted both to impress Aidan and give a big middle finger to Riddle for treating her so callously.

"It's thanks to you," Minerva admitted, twirling around in her dark green dress. It was an old dress of Lucy's, shrunken slightly and tailored so it was a sight shorter than it had been on the older girl. She admired the long, lace sleeves and how her hair fell down in waves, kissing her shoulder blades. "Without you, I definitely would have been going dressed in my old church dress."

"You're too hot for a church," Lucy winked. "You'll definitely turn some heads, I expect. Maybe even Aidan's."

Minerva whipped around to face Lucy, who was applying the finishing touches to her make-up. "What are you talking about? I don't fancy Aidan! He's my best friend!"

"Yes, he is," Lucy laughed. "And eventually, when he loses the idiotic boyish part of him, he'll realize you're the best part of his life, and you'll get together. Trust me. It's how I snagged Callum. He always thought I was the annoying one who helped him with his homework until one day Diana and I decided to trap him under some mistletoe. Boom. He was mine after that."

"I don't think I need to hear this about my brother," Minerva joked, covering her ears.

"Probably not," Lucy agreed, amused. "I just want you to remember that men turn around in the end. At least the good ones do. Aidan will fall for you, and one day, when you realize that he has always been there, you will at least consent to a hearty snogging session," she continued, despite the younger girl's blush. Lucy leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "If I were you though, I'd snog a couple o' people before then. Not that Aidan will be the one forever and ever, but I'd bet all my galleons that he will stick around for a while. And it's fun to kiss a few different people, have them fall all over you."

"I'll take your word for it," Minerva said decisively. "I'm much more interested in developing as a witch."

"I know." Lucy turned to face her, with a suddenly severe expression on her face. "That's all well and good, but don't think that you have to do life alone, alright? You could be a powerful witch with the right person at your side if you wanted. Just be careful. Power can attract the wrong sort of people. Like Riddle." Minerva nodded, and Lucy held out her hand. "Right, let's go down. I'm excited to see your brother fawn over me."

They walked down to the common room together, and Minerva laughed when Lucy jumped into her brother's arms, kissing him soundly. She caught Aidan's eye, and she felt a slight thrill when Lucy was proved right: he was looking at her much differently than he ever had before. "Do I look okay?" she asked him uncertainly.

"You look, um...great," Aidan swallowed. "Very different, McGonagall, but good different." He gallantly held out his arm, and Minerva bit her lip to keep from smiling as she took it. "Oi, Callum! Let's go." He rolled his eyes as Callum and Lucy pulled apart just enough to walk. "I want some food."

They walked to the party together, which was in full swing by the time they got there. Slughorn welcomed them; Lucy and Minerva slightly more effusively than their partners. "Welcome, ladies! Lucy, I trust that you will get Minerva adequately initiated into our little society here!" Slughorn smiled, his hands full of food. "Enjoy yourselves, and watch the Butterbeer; it tastes tangier than normal."

"That's probably because Leroy was planning on spiking it," Lucy whispered, pulling them away. "The food is always good at these things, and other than that, we basically just mingle."

"I'm going to the food," Aidan ran off and started piling a plate. "Guys, just look at all of this. It's better than the Great Hall!" They ate together, casually mingling with the other guests. To her surprise, Minerva found everyone to be quite lovely. It seemed like there was a mutual agreement to acknowledge that the club was an utterly asinine excuse for an extra-curricular, but the perks made it worth their while. The evening was progressing swimmingly: Aidan was off chatting with Slughorn, now wanting to be a member for the food alone, and Lucy and Callum were dancing in a corner, clearly in love. Minerva sipped her Butterbeer when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder.

"Minerva," Riddle smirked, "you look lovely. Too bad your date doesn't appreciate it," he added, nodding over to Aidan.

"Riddle," Minerva warned. "You're twelve. Lay off the charm, alright?"

"I'm not a kid, Minerva." Riddle's eyes burned with a desire to prove himself. "I'm more powerful than everyone in this room. Perhaps not yourself, and that might only be because you've got a year on me. Power is the ultimate attribute, not age."

"I would argue that intellect and kindness reign supreme," Minerva quirked her brow, hating herself for indulging him in conversation. "Where is your date tonight, Riddle?"

"I realized no one else at this school was worthy of me," Riddle shrugged, sidling up next to her. "We would be oh so powerful, Minerva."

"You're twelve-years-old, for the love of God! Stop waxing lyrical about, well, us," she hissed. "Get it through your head that it's not happening, Riddle."

He grabbed her forearm quickly, twisting it until it left a mark. She made a garbled, painful sound but refused to cry outright, allowing only one tear to fall slowly. "I don't want to hurt you, Minerva," he said lowly, "but if you don't join me, you're against me. And everyone who is and ever was against me, anyone who ever abandoned me," Riddle paused, momentarily tormented by some sort of ghost, "will rue the day that they left me alone. You will regret it, Minerva."

Riddle let go of her arm, and Minerva strolled away until she hit the door, running down the hall as quickly as possible. The tears were starting to fall, and she couldn't stop them. Minerva didn't know where she was going, only that she needed to get away from Riddle. Her left forearm burned with his touch, and she couldn't bear it anymore. Minerva flung herself onto an alcove in the south corridor, resting her head against the cold window. The tears were flying freely now, and she let them, absent-mindedly rubbing at her arm. She had no idea how long she sat there, but somewhere in her mind, she knew that she must have missed curfew.

"Miss McGonagall?" Minerva lifted her head to see Dumbledore standing over her, concern etched in his face. "What on earth happened?"

Minerva couldn't help herself. She let a sob escape and rested her head back on her knees.

"Did...did someone hurt you?" Dumbledore asked tentatively, crouching down to meet her at eye level. "You were at the Slug Club party with Mr. Scrimgeour, were you not? Was he, ah- ungentlemanly with you?"

"No!" Minerva shouted forcefully, looking up. "Aidan wouldn't hurt me. No, professor, it would appear I was just a...a stupid girl. You warned me, and I thought I could handle it."

"Mr. Riddle?" Dumbledore's eyes hardened. "Miss McGonagall, I asked you to come to me if he were acting in such a manner."

"Yeah, well, this time, it was abrupt and unexpected, and he caught me off guard."

"What do you mean, this time? This isn't isolated?" Anger seemed to radiate off Dumbledore, and it made Minerva feel small and stupid, like a little girl who needed someone to protect her.

"Well," she mumbled. "Riddle found me in the library last week. He asked me to go to the party with him. He was somewhat insistent, but I thought I had handled it, honestly, professor. Then, tonight, he cornered me at the party." Her eyes welled up again. "He said something rather threatening, and well, he gave me this mark." She showed him her arm for the first time, wincing as he took it. "He didn't raise his wand or anything; he just twisted it rather forcefully."

"No, he did more than that," Dumbledore murmured, running his hand gently along the mark. "No, he must have released some accidental magic when he grabbed you. Did you make him angry?"

"I guess so," Minerva humphed, her energy waning. "He asked me to join forces with him -for what I don't know, so please don't ask, it may have even been romantic, to be perfectly honest- and when I refused, he got angry and said that everyone who turned him away would pay for it one day."

"He's still so, so angry," Dumbledore whispered.

"Professor?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm sorry, I forgot myself for a moment." He waved his hand over her arm, leaving her with nothing more than a red scratch. "Your arm should feel better by the morning, but the scratch may scar. I don't know much about healing accidental magic injuries, I'm afraid," he apologized. "You can go see Madam Prewett in the morning if you're worried. Do you want me to speak to Mr. Riddle and discipline him appropriately?"

"No, Professor," Minerva shook her head adamantly. "No, it will only make it worse. I'll do my best to stay out of his way, and if I go to any Slug Club events, I'll make sure to stay with Lucy. I promise. I don't want to do anything more to draw his ire, and if I get him in trouble with you, who knows what he'll do? Please, Professor."

Dumbledore sighed, his blue eyes meeting her green ones. He was searching for something, she could tell, and she gave him nothing but fierce determination. "Only if you promise to tell me about it if he approaches you again. I mean it, Miss McGonagall," he added firmly. She nodded, and he held out his arm. "I should get you back to the tower," he mused. "It's late, and you've had a long evening."

She got up, rubbing at her wrist, and took his proffered arm. "Thanks, Professor," Minerva whispered, suddenly too tired to hold herself up. They walked silently, arm in arm, to Gryffindor Tower. He released her arm, opening up the portrait.

"Have a good rest of your evening, Miss McGonagall. Sleep well," Dumbledore smiled at her, but it didn't come close to reaching his eyes. Minerva gave him her thanks and crawled through the portrait, not once looking back to notice that Dumbledore's gaze was on her, fear and anger shining through his eyes.