He Who Gets Slapped
Another one-shot people. Have fun!
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Tom Riddle thought a lot about himself. He preened, he charmed, and as a result he
was THE boy every girl wanted to snog. Well, not EVERY girl. But today Tom would
change that. Today he'd flirt with the one girl who people told him would never reply to
such advances, joking or otherwise.
"Tom, this isn't going to work. She's a Gryffindor, a blood-traitor, a—"
"Flirting, Satarius, Flirting. I'm just going to flirt with her. Not date her. Now GO!" He barked, sending Satarius Malfoy running down the hall and out of sight. Straightening his school tie, he made a turn into the Transfiguration classroom, just as the 7th years were filing out the door. Minerva McGonagall, his target for today, was standing before the large oak desk, speaking in low tones to Professor Dumbledore. Tom's face wrinkled in disgust. He despised Dumbledore, had despised him since the year before, when Myrtle was killed and he'd known Tom had been involved somehow. Pesky old man.
She, on the other hand, was quite the fetching picture. Though she was no beauty queen, she had a calm, determined air about her that made her seem prettier than she really was. Her hair was tied back with a yellow ribbon today, one with little runes and, Tom quirked an eyebrow, bumblebees flying up and down the bright yellow silk.
"They approved?" She said suddenly, eyes lightening and mouth twitching into a smile. Tom shook his head and concentrated again on the conversation.
"Yes. You are on the roster as 'in-training'. We will begin…..say tomorrow evening, should your other classes allow for extra lessons." Replied Dumbledore, looking just as pleased as his student.
"Thank you, Professor. " Minerva said, now smiling broadly. Dumbledore stood and patted her shoulder.
"Then I shall see you tomorrow evening here after dinner. Good day, M'dear" He said, nodding once and exiting the room. Tom, frantic for a moment, ran up a hidden corridor until the sound of male footfalls disappeared. Then he ran back to the room, catching Minerva as she too left.
"He-Hello, Miss McGonagall" He said, hoping to cover his breathlessness by playing nervous. Minerva's lips pursed and her face tightened, but she kept her eyes pleasant as ever.
"You're Tom Riddle, right?" She asked politely. He nodded, moving to kiss her hand. She allowed it, and Tom's inner self did some sort of war whoop in his head.
"Shouldn't you be in Defense right now?" She asked, gathering a few books off the deputy headmaster's desk. He shrugged.
"There's a passage right by the samurai armor. It's a slide-sort of thing. Takes you right outside the Defense classrooms." she raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?" She asked, turning back towards the desk, just as Tom came to stand close to her left, " I haven't heard of it."
"Yes." He said suavely, now inches away from her face. "Its almost as exciting as being near you." He grinned his charming grin and saw her face go red. Just as he was about to give her a peck on the cheek, his own was suddenly stinging. And then he realized why he was leaning against Dumbledore's desk.
She'd slapped him.
Angrily he shouted back at her. "How dare you! I will one day be the greatest wizard EVER! How dare you slap me!" Minerva scoffed, the red blush disappearing as her whole face took on a red, furious hue.
"I" He said in a low whisper, "am Voldemort, and soon people won't dare say my name. I will be He-who-must-not-be-named, the most powerful ever!" He grabbed at her wrists.
"MR. RIDDLE!" Tom jumped back, releasing his hold on the older student. Albus Dumbledore, returning to his classroom to retrieve his reading glasses, was standing in the doorway looking every bit as dangerous as a Basilisk.
"Mr. Riddle, I will give you the benefit of the doubt and allow you to leave this instant. If I ever see such improper behavior, I will be forced to send you to the Headmaster." Tom nodded, not looking at all apologetic, left sulking.
But not before Minerva found one last retort.
"He-who-must-not-be-named, Tom? Funny, I'll always think of you as He-who-got-slapped." Tom, blushing angrily, marched out of the classroom with a scowl at them booth before he disappeared around the door.
Dumbledore took one moment to run the sentences through his mind before laughing heartily. As Tom, now furious and rather shocked, stepped on the stairs, Minerva's once-unheard of laughter joined the Professor's.
And from that day forward, though he was never sure of it, Tom Riddle would hear, even among his loyal Death Eaters, a moniker that would send him into a fit of hexing.
"Long live He-who-got-slapped"
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JKR owns everything except the title, which is a play Maggie Smith was once in. I saw it in her biography and just started laughing. After mentioning it to Freelancer, I just had the urge to write our favorite Deputy socking it to the Dark Lord, literally xD