A/N: Well, the lovely couple here- *gestures to Tom and Minerva* would like to say a few words before this next installment of "If He'd Gotten the Job." Professor?
McGonagall: I just want to say that what you're about to read is crap, and that it could never happen, even IF he'd gotten the job. I'm not an idiot, and I resent that I'm portrayed as one. That is all. *looks at the author*
A/N: Valid points, Professor, but there's always going to be a degree of OOCness when you make a crack pairing serious. I'll leave it there. Any words from you, my Lord?
Voldy: Lucius? Wormtail? Severus? Why am I still with this imbecile? And why won't my killing curses work on her?
A/N: Interesting choice of words, but not what I had in mind. Any thoughts on the direction the story is headed?
Voldy: No. It never happened, so there's no point. Why can't I kill you?
A/N: No clue. Of course you're in denial. All right, that's enough stalling on my part. On with the fic! I hope you like it, because this was difficult to write accurately!
In Teh Office of DADA
Minerva couldn't believe she was willfully following Riddle into his office. It was like something out of one of the really cheap romance novels she prided herself on never buying. But surely, nothing would happen. Deceitful and shrewd he may be, but Riddle was a gentleman. Of that she was certain.
Riddle's thoughts were rather different, and he was consumed in a bout of momentary panic. He had been rather clear-cut, Minerva had followed, so it was obvious that she'd be expecting something. Naturally it all helped his cause, but she was such a prude by nature. And now...
"Let's have tea." Mentally, he wanted to slap himself for backing out at the least possible moment. He had no reason to be hesitant to have a little tryst! He was Lord Voldemort; he had made his first horcrux at sixteen, and at present he had already made five. He had pushed the boundaries of magic farther than any predecessor, farther than Dumbledore himself. He was sure his discoveries and accomplishments were unsurpassed. And here he was, cringing at the idea of romancing Minerva. No, that wasn't accurate, that was just part of the job. He was cringing at the idea of leaking the rumor to the school. That was the problem, and the fact that this too was out of necessity worsened the knowledge. Minerva's incredulous expression wasn't helping his discomfort, so he set about preparing the tea, though at the moment, a good stiff drink was what he needed most. Wait...he had the last of the stolen stash from Dippet's office...
"Are you serious?"
"Why, yes. What did you expect?" He smirked. The use of sarcasm had a tonic effect on him, and he felt ready to forge ahead with his plan. "I can only imagine what you expected. There's a cliched line in here that goes 'what do you want from me?' but subtlety isn't your forte, apparently." There, that ought to set off a tirade, giving him a perfect and cliched way to shut her up once she started.
"I can't believe this, I really can't. You just- you keep insinuating- oh, you're just insufferable. You've been more secretive than usual, and that's saying something. Not to mention about the most trivial things, too. I mean really? Tropical birds? I don't see the problem with me reading that." Her arms were crossed, her stance almost accusatory.
Riddle did not answer, but instead busied himself with the tea. It wasn't too late to back out, he reflected. He could always use a memory charm, forget the whole thing happened...leave after a year after the founding of Voldemort's Youth Army, move to Albania, change his name legally, live happily ever after... He couldn't help but smile though, her rant was completely irrelevent.
"What's so different? We're adults, I'll be frank. You never paid me any attention at school, now you practically follow me." She tapped her foot impatiently when he simply turned around to pour himself some absinthe, draining the glass in a gulp. "Are you bloody listening?"
"Of course." He smiled, his back to her. He'd come this far, he may as well follow through properly. Deliberately, he ceased with his tea preparations, resting his weight against the desk. Impassioned, he thought. Think...Dumbledore and socks, Lowther and grapes... He paused, appalled. What repulsive ideas. Clearly he was unfamiliar with romance and out of practice from the younger days. Well, he could always wing it and see how it went. An image of Slughorn's face at the impending scene made him blanch, and nearly back out yet again. Minerva's voice brought him back to the present. She was prattling on incessantly..
"...and now here we are, in your office. Whatever explanation you have had better-"
He kissed her. Hard. And he damn well made it bloody convincing. Minerva's voice trailed off into spluttering as her air was depleted. She pulled away fairly slowly for someone so livid, Riddle was pleased to note. Everything was proceeding perfectly.
"You never know when to shut up, do you?"
Minerva could only stare, slowly rubbing a hand across her lips as if to erase what had just transpired. At last she found her voice. "What the hell was that for?"
"Recall that trite little line I just mentioned? I want nothing more from you than what you want from me."
"You're very forward."
"No need to be coy, we're both grown up."
She laughed nervously. "I still can't believe you did that."
"I still can't believe you didn't hex me. Touching your hair earned me a book to the face, and this is exponentially worse in comparison."
"Is that a request?"
"No, merely banter."
"Well, should I humor you?"
"Perhaps, this back-and-forth is getting old quickly."
"Well, maybe you should kiss me again, this time with warning."
"Is that a request, or a trick to get me charged with sexual harassment? Because I don't intend to get fired with such a pathetic charge."
"A request, I suppose." She tilted her head back, face upturned. "How do you plan to interpret that?"
"Indecorously," he replied, pulling her to him and beginning anew, this time with no resistance.
Movement outside the office door prompted him to pull away first this time. There was potential damage control on his part in the very near future: locked door, he and McGonagall nowhere in sight...if it were a student, someone might relate quite the gossip-inducing scene. It simply wouldn't do, not if it wasn't the one he wanted related.
"It's Slughorn, dear boy! You left your papers in my office!" The call sounded distant through the closed door.
Slughorn? A different matter entirely. Feeling devious, he unlocked the door with his wand without breaking contact, allowing Slughorn in, and promptly pulling away after a couple moments more of an impressive display.
"What's the matter?" Minerva's eyes fluttered open. And then, "Oh, shit."
Slughorn dropped the papers. Well, this was certainly awkward. It was like walking in on your parents, only worse. Surely Dumbledore would instate some no-dating-coworkers policy if he heard of this? Naturally, however, Slughorn's misgivings were overpowered by his copious amounts of glee at the delicious scene he had just witnessed. Tom was being rather cool about the whole thing, clearly determined to put up an unbothered facade. He did an admirable job too, Slughorn conceded, as Tom looked distinctly unruffled by his gaze. In fact, he looked slightly amused, as if he had caught him at something.
He retrieved the papers and Banished them to Riddle's desk. "I was just dropping off your papers.. I'll let you two get back to...whatever it was you two were doing." He winked, and hastily backed out of the room, swinging the door shut.
"Well, this looks worse than it was."
"How so?" Minerva asked. She found that she had enjoyed herself, and was a bit uncomfortable about this fact. "And for the record I don't usually.."
"That's what they all say, and it's never the case. Have a mirror on you?" When she shook her head, he conjured a mirror and handed it to her in response.
"Merlin, I look a sight." She examined her face and held her hair back up. "This looks so unprofessional. I can only imagine..just our luck, too, Slughorn's quite the gossiping type.."
"I think you look rather picturesque, myself," Riddle said. "Though your class might ask questions. May I?"
"Please." McGonagall perched on the armrest of his chair as he slowly moved his wand over any incriminating evidence, even smoothing the hair and pulling it into a tight, immaculate bun once more. Being economical, he returned to possible horcrux hiding places. He liked the idea of leaving one at Hogwarts. What if I hid the diadem in Dumbledore's office?In a pair of steel wool socks, so he wouldn't wear them? No...the old git would notice such strong magic emanating from socks, he has a sock fetish, I'm sure.
Socks too were off the list.
"Need company?" No. But naturally, I can't say that.
"No, but you're welcome to stay," he said instead, pulling out a slew of ungraded fourth year essays and viciously grading them, docking points with explanations such as 'more detail' or 'poor phrasing.' Little did he know, it was but a precursor of what he would do to future followers after yet another botched Potter-murder.
"All right, then I have a question."
"Go on."
"Have any grapes?" She was smiling.
"Don't you dare."
A/N: Poor Voldy. His poor poor character was subjugated to quite a bit. Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I wasn't going to update until the weekend, but something about reviewer alerts just makes me want to write more for y'all. I feel like I'm losing the humor as well. Tips?