A/N: Heeeey all. In a perfect world this would have been up on Valentine's Day. But, I had stuff to do. Like, school stuff. So that's why I'm late. :P Anyway, I wrote this in one sitting and I'm too lazy to edit, so I'll cut straight to the "thank yous." Thank you to Sachita and Sarah and of course Aquitane! Day made, as always. Happy reading!

Hagrid closed the leather-bound volume he had been reading aloud from. "All righ', all righ'. Story time'll have to be over, for now." The knocking at the door became more persistent. "I'm comin', don' break the door down!" He opened it, glancing apologetically at the numerous magical rabbits, barn owls, nifflers, and even the odd thestral, nestled together in the cabin's warm interior. "Oh! Another one!" Hagrid fairly beamed. "Well, come in, come in!"

Lowther stepped over the threshold, and a broad smile gave his beak a twisted appearance as he saw nearly half his minions, right on the grounds of Hogwarts. Hagrid tried to pet him. He pecked, viciously. Hagrid resumed reading 'Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump.' Everything was going according to plan. Perhaps later he'd pay Riddle a visit.

Poshuns Tiem

"Slughorn is obviously not teaching today," Riddle said, surveying the seventh years before him. "I will be your substitute. Do not presume that means you get a day off; I expect the same obedience and decorum I expect in one of my classes. Now, can anyone tell me what this is?" Riddle asked, gesturing to the smaller caldron that stood on his desk. Steam rose up in spirals, and even in the dim lighting of the dungeon, the potion had an unmistakably pearly sheen.

"Is it a love potion?" Abraxas asked.

"Correct," Riddle said, adding, "five points to Slytherin. Do you know the name of it?"

"Nope."

Riddle was puzzled. "Then why did you..."

Abraxas leaned back in his seat, arms crossed behind his head. "Because, Professor, it's Valentine's Day. And Slughorn wrote today's lesson plan. And he totally would plan something like learning about love potions today, of all days."

Riddle frowned. "Well then, since the lot of you prove to be a bigger bunch of imbeciles than I had anticipated, I'll tell you what it is. Does the name 'amortentia' ring a bell?" He was met with glassy stares. "No? Pity. It is the most powerful love potion in the world. Of course, it would seem to be impossible to create love where none exists, but it can create a very powerful obsession... it smells differently to everyone, the scent being what one finds most attractive."

"What do you smell?" a Gryffindor girl asked curiously.

"That's not important," Riddle said dismissively, even as the scent of his own cologne became stronger as he inhaled some of the heady fumes, curiously mixed with citrus. "Now, Slughorn wants me to test your brewing capabilities by assigning you a love potion quite similar to amortentia, though significantly less potent." Instructions appeared on the board. "Turn to page three hundred ninety-four. There are a couple of ingredients that are in his private stores, so begin while I go-" There was a loud rap at the door, and Riddle stopped speaking, feeling vaguely annoyed. "Come in," he called sharply, adding under his breath, "not as if there's a class going on, or anything..."

The door swung open to admit Minerva. "Afternoon. Just thought I'd stop by on my free period and say 'hello.'" She kicked the door shut and before he knew it her arm was through his. "Hello." Riddle scowled, his expression darkening even more when she whispered, "Sound familiar, darling?"

"Just how many free periods do you have?" Riddle asked evenly, resisting the urge to fling her off. "Dumbledore seems to have made your schedule significantly lighter than my own.."

"I suppose it's a perk of being the newest on staff," she said sweetly. "What's going on?"

"As you can see, I'm filling in for Slughorn," Riddle replied, "and I was just about to get the ingredients they need for-"

"Ah. Well then-" and she practically pulled him into the supply closet. "Well, isn't this cozy," she said coquettishly.

"I have a class right now, you know," he pointed out. "Planning on letting me out anytime soon?"

Minerva ignored his question, asking one of her own again. "Mind if I stay for your class?"

He smiled at her, though it didn't reach his eyes. "How much would you mind if I gave you an emphatic yes, I would very much mind?" He was surprised when she reached out and cupped his cheek.

"Too bad," she said, voice low. "I'm staying with you and there's nothing you can do about it."

Riddle laughed softly. "If you're trying to remind me that it's Valentine's Day, believe me, I'm very much aware, and I very much made plans." He tilted her face up. "Though I certainly didn't think you to be the type that cares inordinately about such things."

"Don't make too many assumptions about me, Tom," Minerva said softly. "I think you'll find I'm full of surprises.. and are you honestly telling me that you have a problem with me wanting to spend a little extra time with you?"

"Is that a false accusation?" Riddle asked, pulling her up for a quick kiss before snatching the necessary ingredients and leaving the supply closet, Minerva following a moment afterward.

"They're probably getting it on in the supply closet," a lanky Gryffindor boy was saying, his feet up on the desk and his front chair legs off the ground. "You heard it from me." Riddle said nothing, standing in front of his desk, leaning his weight against it slightly, his arms folded, waiting for the class to quiet down and stop tossing around their wild conjectures. He arranged his features into a deeply displeased and condescending grimace, and at last members of the class began to realize his presence.

"No," a girl was saying, "they wouldn't do that during a class.. more likely he forgot to send her flowers or something, and he's in trouble for it, or..." Her voice trailed off as a friend tapped her arm, jerking her head towards the front of the class where Riddle stood silently. "Oh..." The girl blushed furiously. "I- sorry, Professor... I'll be quiet now..."

"Oh no, don't stop on my account," Riddle said in a voice of deadly calm. "Go ahead, let's hear a few more theories." The girl remained silent, sinking in her seat. "No? Pity. You may all begin." He turned and sat at his desk. "Oh, and I think I'll take five points from everyone who spoke out of turn."

It was Minerva's first time observing Tom teaching a class, and she resolved to take note of anything out of the ordinary. However, he seemed to be adhering to the syllabus fairly closely, and consequentially she found being a passive bystander in a classroom to be extremely boring. She more than once considered leaving her seat at the back and circling the room to see how the students fared in their quest for a perfect love potion, but instead decided her time would be better spent trying to see what Tom was up to at the front. As she neared his desk, she noticed him snap the book he was reading shut, and pulled a few papers towards him instead. "So, care to give me a hint about what you have planned?" she asked. "Or is it a surprise?"

Riddle looked up, the familiar citrus scent lingering in the air again. "I'd rather not." He returned to the papers. "Trying to get a peek at what I'm reading, I see."

"I most certainly was not," Minerva protested, annoyed that he'd seen through her ruse so easily. "And you hardly have room to talk. I'm almost certain you've gone through my things during one of your stays over."

"Ah, but you don't really have any proof of that," he retorted, laying down his quill and looking up at her. "And you are a terrible liar, I really don't know why you persist with it."

"Fine then," she said shortly. "Don't show me. It's pretty obvious that you're terrified I'll go running off to tell Dumbledore, as if I don't have anything better to do."

"Do you?"

Minerva was a bit taken aback. "I beg your pardon?"

"Do you have anything better to do?"

"Certainly," she exclaimed, laying her arm along his shoulders. "I'm here with you in my period off, aren't I?"

"Good answer," Riddle said, not convinced. "As for the reading, we'll go over some of the things I brought you later tonight." He glanced at the clock. "They'd better start wrapping up."

"Aren't you going to remind them?" she asked, surprised when he made no move to alert the students.

"No."

Minerva crossed her arms, perplexed. His teaching methods were unorthodox, she'd grant, but she'd have to see more before she decided whether or not the subject matter he was teaching was unacceptable for the students. There was always the off chance that the class she'd walked in on had been a fluke, but she'd have to watch a few more lectures before she was sure. "Well, I suppose you know best."

"Again, good try, ma minette, but flattery will get you nowhere with me."

She pushed him. "You are impossible."

"You are distracting me." He looked up at her again. "No, really, you're distracting me. I can't think straight when you're around."

The less sensible part of Minerva got a bit light-headed and fluttery at this, but the part of her which was more well known promptly strangled the fluttery romantic. "Very kind of you, Tom, I do appreciate it. But flattery doesn't work with me either."

Riddle grinned, genuinely this time. "Most astute. But I assure you, I meant it." And he patiently watched the clock without saying anything more, standing once the bell rang and collecting vials of the students' potions. "You are dismissed," he said. "Fortunately for you, I will not be grading these, but believe me, I can tell at a glance which ones will not be receiving desirable grades." The students left the room in a hurry, and he put the room in order as slowly as possible.

"So," Minerva began in a conversational tone. "Alone at last."

"Yes, but only for ten minutes, I have a class to teach after this," Riddle pointed out. "Whatever you're going to say, say it quickly."

"You do not. You have a scheme you want to carry out, and you don't want me to be a witness to it." She spoke with authority, hands on her hips. "And I fail to see why-"

Riddle cut her off mid-sentence with a kiss. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"What?" she spluttered. "No, I'm not finished yet! You can't just-"

He interrupted her again, locking the door with a flick of his wand and backing her into the desk this time. "I'm sorry, I can't seem to grasp what you're saying."

"Tom," she said, straightening and taking his face in both her hands, "I just want to-"

"That's what it was!" Riddle said, his face lighting up as he snapped his fingers. "I had thought it smelled familiar!"

"What in the world are you talking about?" Minerva sighed, resigned to the fact that she'd never get a word in edgewise.

"Amortentia smells differently to each person, so the scent is what you find most attractive," Riddle explained. "I smelled citrus today, which doesn't usually happen."

Minerva frowned, not understanding. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Your perfume," Riddle said, holding her forearm to her nose. "You wear some citrus-y blend, don't you?"

"Yes, I- oh." Minerva blushed, turning her face from him. "Oh, I see what you're driving at."

"It was familiar," Riddle repeated, "but not usually what I smell…"

Minerva stood over the cauldron and inhaled. "Oh. Interesting."

Riddle stood next to her. "What?"

"Well, there's the usual, like hyacinth, and fresh parchment, and catnip, and-"

"Catnip?"

"-yes, catnip, and peppermint, and-"

"What sort of a laundry list of scents do you have?" Riddle interrupted again.

She turned to him. "Shut up," she said calmly, turning back to the cauldron. "And of course I smell your cologne, but there's something new. It smells like wet bird, but that can't possibly be right.."

"Maybe it's geared towards your feline sensibilities?" Riddle suggested. "I mean, wet birds don't fly very well, do they, since it weighs down their feathers and all…" He stopped. "Wait, no, it's not the potion, I smell it too."

Minerva froze, grabbing his arm. "Oh no. You don't think.."

Riddle straightened, drawing his wand. "Gordon Lowther, show yourself."

The toucan materialized above them, hovering in place. "Hello, Professor." Riddle did not miss the condescension in the bird's voice.

Minerva, however, had never before had the delight of conversing with the bird. "It- it talks!"

"Yes, of course he talks," Riddle snarled, training his wand on the bird. "I thought I'd seen the last of you, Lowther. Want to help me with another lesson already?"

"I'm just here to draw your attention to something," the bird said with amusement. "You both know Hagrid, don't you?"

"What about him?" Minerva asked.

"You should pay him a visit sometime," the bird leered. "I'm sure it will be well worth it."

"How are things with Dumbledore's pet?" Riddle demanded. "He's realized you're a poorly behaved, deranged, slovenly toucan, and you're sleeping outside now?"

Lowther's beak twisted into a scowl. "Fawkes could have been my ally. He was a fool to refuse me… and Dumbledore still recognizes my worth. He will pay, in good time."

"Wait a minute," Minerva cut in. "So I realize you're a magical toucan, but why exactly would you need allies? What cause could you possibly promote? Recognition as a magical toucan?"

"That's exactly what he wants, Minerva!" Riddle burst out, grabbing her shoulders wildly and spinning her around to face him. "He's part of a ridiculous-"

"Tom."

"-organization solely bent on-"

"Tom!"

"-overthrowing Wizarding rule and he's starting with-"

"TOM!" Minerva shouted, grabbing his face and turning it towards the window. "He's gone."

"Damn him," Riddle muttered darkly. "I'll get to the bottom of this… I thought I'd settled with him effectively, but apparently I was wrong. How am I supposed to carry on with my work with that feathered abomination insisting on being a hindrance…"

"Darling," Minerva said, putting herself between Riddle and the window, "he's just a bird."

"There's a great deal I can tell you about him, Minerva," Riddle said, "but I'll save that for dinner tonight. Tell me, how many of Hogwarts' secrets would you say you're familiar with?"

"Only a fraction," she said modestly.

"How would you like to uncover another?"

"That depends on the company," she said softly, closing her eyes as he closed the gap between them for the fourth time that afternoon.

"Won't it be obvious, if we're both missing from dinner?" she pointed out as she and Riddle hurried along the seventh floor corridor.

"You worry too much about the most trivial of things," Riddle pointed out. "Now, we walk past this spot four times.." After they passed for the fourth time, Riddle stopped, and opened the door. "Now tell me you'd rather I ruined the surprise."

Minerva followed him in, eyes widening as she took in the sight of the Room of Requirement, decorated tastefully with candles, roses, and red hyacinths. The room had adopted ivory walls with cherry wood trimmings, giving it a decidedly luxurious and homey quality the majority of the castle lacked. Candles floated in gradient arcs, each rimmed with miniature wreaths of roses. Bouquets of hyacinths rested on wall sconces, with a centerpiece of the flowers on a table, covered in a starched linen tablecloth. The floor was covered with a thick rug, and Minerva slipped out of her shoes and enjoyed the soft, tickling sensation of the fibers against the soles of her bare feet. She heard music, and turned to see an enchanted string quartet, playing by itself in a corner. A baby grand piano stood in another corner of the room, the seat sprinkled with rose petals. A chaise lounge was the last of the furniture in the room, upholstered in velvet. "How did you…" Minerva began, and found herself unable to finish.

"Why do you always answer my questions with one of your own?" Riddle asked easily, wrapping an arm around her small waist. "Why don't you read the note?"

"The note?" Minerva echoed, and she saw the little parchment scroll at one of the places on the table. Hurriedly she unrolled it. "I hate clichés, and I know you do too. Let's enact one together, because it makes complete sense," she read aloud. "Okay, at the risk of sounding like a typical, overtly romantic woman, I absolutely love what you've done here, but-"

"I stopped listening after 'I absolutely love what you've done here,'" Riddle said. "Anyway, there's more than enough to do here, even if we get tired of an evening of conversation, and bickering, I'm sure." He gestured to the piano. "It's a Steinway, I believe." He shrugged. "I know you play organ, but shattering the windows just doesn't appeal to me."

"Stop downplaying everything," Minerva insisted. "You have to tell me how this room works."

"All in good time," Riddle said, uncorking a bottle of wine. "Tell me, how does this measure up to your expectations?"

"I'm not the sort of woman who expects her boyfriend to go to extremes for a commercialized holiday," Minerva said, smiling. "All that aside, though, I can't express to you how perfect this all is." She laughed. "I never saw you as a romantic, Tom."

"Believe me, I'm not," Riddle said. "But it's enough for me if you like it."

Dinner consisted of frisee salad with a lemon vinaigrette, filet mignon with red wine sauce, and cappuccino souffle, a menu Minerva found more to her taste than she'd ever admit. "Out of curiosity," Minerva said, looking at Riddle beneath arched brows, "since you aren't the romantic sort, did you find it ironic that Slughorn had you instruct the class on how to brew love potions?"

"Not particularly," Riddle answered. "One could say that my ability with love potions is genetic, though." He gestured vaguely. "After all, I never messed one up in my life."

"Genetic how?" Minerva asked.

Riddle tried to appear pensive. "My mother," he began, "was a witch, as I later found out through some research. She won my father over with a love potion." He paused. "I think she grew tired of having to bewitch her husband, but naturally, without her magic he had no inclination to stay with her, pregnant or no." He drummed his fingers on the table. "I believe I've told you the rest."

Minerva's eyes softened. "Oh, Tom," she murmured, reaching across and taking his hand. "Ordinarily I would say 'I'm sorry' or something, but of course the last thing you want is my pity..."

Riddle laughed. "You know me too well." He frowned, suddenly. "Wait. We haven't started bickering yet. Something is very wrong with this."

"You're too much," Minerva sighed, but she was smiling as she said it. "Tell me about something you've planned, and I'm almost certain to get annoyed with you."

"Very well," Riddle said. "I've been dying to share this anyway. Some hormonally charged teenagers who had the audacity to make inappropriate comments about us -and really, some of them were quite lewd- are about to go about the very activities they spoke of, with little to no subtlety, which will almost certainly land them in detention."

"Oh, Tom, you didn't." Minerva leaned towards him, voice earnest. "That's against so many regulations.. you may never, ever perform magic on students!"

Riddle laughed. "I didn't do anything. In honor of Valentine's Day, Slughorn was planning on having the seventh years brew the next closest thing to amortentia. He couldn't make it to class, so I filled in for him." Smiling innocently, he offered her a tray. "Canapé?"

Rolling her eyes, she took one. "And was spiking the afternoon pumpkin juice with the potion really necessary?"

"You have no way of knowing whether or not I did that." He sagely sipped his wine. "I did, however, leave a little surprise in the flagons of the students whose potions were... substandard." He paused, thinking. "Incidentally, that's most of the smartasses in the class. How convenient."

"Which is what, an A instead of an O?"

"I'm not that heartless. Anything less than an A, as a matter of fact."

Minerva twirled her fork. "Dare I ask what the surprise was?"

"A few drops of potion, of course." He poured them each a glass of wine. "You already guessed that, ma minette." He stood, offering her his hand. "Dance with me?"

Minerva stood, taking his hand. "In a moment." She transfigured her dress into one resembling her deep purple, Elizabeth Taylor-esque gown. "I thought you'd never ask."

The strings quartet began to play Chopin's Waltz in A Minor, and more than once Riddle found himself picturing the scene as it would appear to a bystander, usually Slughorn. That alone was enough to make his lip curl and make him want to let go of Minerva, but he restrained himself and instead observed Minerva's face as they waltzed. She seemed comfortable with gazing at him, even though they talked very little during the entirety of their dance. "What?" he asked, feeling a bit odd after the prolonged silence.

"Nothing," she said, letting go. "Let's try out the Steinway." It didn't take her long to become used to the longer keyboard, and she began to play 'Unchained Melody,' feeling childishly delighted when the quartet accompanied her flawlessly. It had been a long while since she had played an instrument, but despite her rustiness Riddle stood by the piano, attentive as ever, observing her face as she expressively played through the song. As she reached the chorus, she glanced up, and their eyes locked. Minerva was vaguely conscious of her fingers slowing on the keys, of the drag on the pedal by her leaden foot, and of how close she and Riddle were. Her fingers stopped, and she released the pedal with a dull clunk, pushing back the chair as she stood to kiss him more fully. "Now it's officially a cliché," she whispered against his lips, eyes closed, as they fumbled to the chaise lounge, Minerva arching into him when she felt her back collide with the cushions. In the disengaged corner of her mind, she thought she heard something outside, but as she turned her full attention to Riddle once more, she felt him pull away abruptly.

"It's time," he said excitedly. "Hurry, Minerva, hurry-" and he leapt to the door in an instant, incandescent with fiendish joy.

"What?" Minerva demanded, annoyed, and feeling slightly brushed aside. "You completely killed the moment there."

"Oh, this will make it up!" Riddle exclaimed, unable to wait for her to rise from her seat, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the door. "Now," he said, setting her down, "let's see what havoc the Dark Lord himself hath wrought."

"Bit of a pretentious title there, don't you think?" Minerva teased, and opened the door, Riddle close behind, wondering how he could have let that slip so early.

The first couple was literally just outside the Room of Requirement, and detaining them was laughably easy, Riddle found. The fact that the two abhorred one another made administering the antidote a sort of joy unto itself, as their expressions turned to ones of abject horror as they realized what they had been doing for the past several minutes. Sufficiently mortified, they were sentenced to detention, and later bed, though "not with each other," as Riddle warned. Hypocrisy, he decided, had never been quite so much fun. Minerva was at first a bit of a killjoy, not amused at all by the childish revenge he had chosen to exact on his students, but as their mission progressed, and as the hiding places grew all the more ridiculous, she couldn't help but enjoy herself. Immediately afterward they retired to her room, where they had what she considered the most enlightening conversation on theoretical transfiguration in a long while.

It had been a glorious evening, Riddle later reflected, alone in his room for the night, after catching every single twat who had dared speak of him so flippantly. It was a sad day that such petty revenge delighted him to this extent, he thought, but the fact remained that his day had been… well, awesome, for lack of a better word. The expressions on the students' faces was almost as glee-inducing as Dumbledore's, when he beheld Riddle and Minerva en route to her chamber together, Minerva's hair unraveling from her customary knot. But he couldn't shake Lowther's words from his mind. "Pay Hagrid a visit," he murmured under his breath. "I'll have to get on that," and outside his window, the toucan smiled evilly.

A/N: Heeey y'all. Hope you enjoyed it. I totally want a Steinway, and even though I am not worthy of touching one, I let Minerva because she is more awesome than me. Hope y'all enjoyed your dose of Lowther, I was starting to miss him! Don't forget to leave me a review… they're like cookies, except with no calories and all of the joy :)