Hey guys! Thank you to those of you who like my story. I'm pretty fond of it myself. This is one of my favorite chapters so far (mostly because it takes place predominantly in the library and I am going to be a librarian). Enjoy and please review!

The Project

"Miss McGonagall. I've spoken to Mr. Flamel and I would like for you and Mr. Riddle to begin working. Come to my office at 3 o'clock this afternoon. Signed, Albus Dumbledore." Avalon set the note down on her bed and looked at Minerva. "So that's why you've been acting so strange. You're upset that you have to work with Tom."

"I am perfectly capable of working with Tom Riddle. I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about."

"Minerva, you've hated each other since he came second year. You hated him for thinking he was smarter than you and he hated you for thinking you were smarter than him. I'm not surprised that you're upset."

"I suppose, maybe -"

"Don't worry about Tom, Min. I know you both have had your differences, but he's really smart. I don't think he'll bother you all that much, especially not with Dumbledore heading up whatever it is you're doing." Minerva opened her mouth as if to explain, but Avalon held up her hand. "Don't tell me. I am completely uninterested and you explaining it to me would only make me feel incredibly dumb."

Minerva took a sip of water thoughtfully. "Honestly, Avalon. I'm not all that worried about Tom."

Avalon tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"I just get so…frustrated when I'm around him. I turn every semi-nice thing he does into this plot to get close to me and kill me. I'll be arguing with him one minute, then the next minute I'll be joking with him like he's my long lost cousin or something. I hate the lack of control!"

Avalon grinned. "So you're saying that you are more worried about controlling yourself around him."

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

"You have feelings for him!"

"I most certainly do not, Avalon! I cannot believe you would suggest such an awful thing!"

"You feel like you 'let your hair down' around him?" Avalon asked slyly.

"Stop saying that phrase! You know perfectly well that I hate it!"

Avalon hopped off her own bed and slid on to Minerva's. "Why do you hate it so much? There is nothing wrong with a little excitement. I'm glad that you're doing this. I think it will be good for you."

Minerva furrowed her brow. "I don't see how working with that -"

Avalon placed a hand over Minerva's mouth and said in a low voice, "Please. For once in your life, do something without analyzing everything to death. Go to Dumbledore's office. Meet with Tom. Begin whatever it is you are doing. If you succeed, you succeed. If you fight, you fight. If you happen to fall head over heels for him, well-"

"Do not finish that sentence, Avalon."

Minerva rose and swung her bag over her shoulder.

Avalon smirked, "I'm just saying - keep an open mind."

Minerva walked from the room without a reply.

Tom was mad - no - Tom was livid. She had embarrassed him, and the worst part was that he had let her. This was what he got for getting emotionally attached to someone; they disappointed him. He slammed his hand into the stone wall as he marched up to Dumbledore's office. His father had done the same thing before letting his family down. Apparently, you couldn't trust anybody.

As he approached the door, he slowed down. Now he was going to have to face her. He thought back to her pain-stricken face as they stood in the rain and clenched his fists. He had let his guard down. Conniving know-it-all. She was a Gryffindor. They were supposed to be trustworthy, brave, and loyal, but Minerva had let him down. He opened himself up to her and she had backed away.

What was he going to say to her? What was she going to say back? She had to have known he was going to kiss her. She had backed away on purpose; he could see it in her eyes. That look of conscious betrayal.

"Dumbledore," he murmured. If only Dumbledore hadn't shown up. He could have at least exposed her cowardice then and there. It may have yielded some explanation, instead of this - this speculation!

How did he get himself in this situation in the first place? How had he, Tom Riddle, the boy who never needed or wanted a friend, found himself caught up in this mess? Nearly kissing Minerva three times, and letting her stomp all over him like that. It just wasn't like him. Before she entered his life he was focused, never letting his eye off the goal. Now he had fallen into utter obscurity, just like his father. Well that just wasn't going to work.

He rounded the corner blindly and nearly collided with the object of his distaste. He glared at her as they stood, suspended. The look of fear that had so frequently flooded Minerva's face before, returned causing an alarm to go off in Tom's brain. He couldn't very well go back to the way he used to treat her after making such a big deal about their agreement.

Minerva lowered her head. "Tom, about the other day. I don't really know what happened -" Her voice broke and Tom could swear she was on the brink of tears. What had he done? How was he able to cause such an effect from her?

What was he thinking now? Only minutes before he had been more than ready to send her on her way, but he couldn't now. He was transfixed.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Minerva, I-"

"Enter, you two," Dumbledore's voice called from the other side of the door. Minerva jumped in surprise and Tom scowled. The portrait leading to his office swung open on its own accord and they walked in side-by-side.

Dumbledore studied them closely. Minerva looked pale and slightly flustered, while Tom looked completely indifferent to the situation. "I've made all of the necessary arrangements. Here is all the information you will need." He lifted a large purple envelope and handed it to Minerva. Tom watched as she pulled it to her chest, her knuckles turning white.

"Every book in the library is at your disposal, including those in the restricted section," Dumbledore continued. "You will find passes included in the envelope. If you have need of any other resources, you may floo the ministry and use their library. I've notified the proper authorities regarding that. Now, do either of you have any questions?"

Minerva dropped her gaze and shook her head.

"No sir," Tom said for them both. He gave the professor a slight trace of smile and turned on his heels.

"Miss McGonagall, will you stay for just a moment?"

"Certainly, sir."

She paused awkwardly in the doorway.

"I'll wait for you in the hallway," Tom said without emotion. He walked quickly out of the room and began pacing back and forth. What had gotten in to her? Never had he seen her so distracted. How was he supposed to work with her when she was like this?

Tom frowned and twiddled his wand between his fingers. What was Dumbledore up to? It just wasn't like him to invent a project like this. Suddenly, Tom had a terrible thought. He dropped his wand. What if he knew? No. It was impossible. Tom had been too careful.

He picked up his wand and resumed pacing. Still, what if he had? Dumbledore was an old fool, but he was a perceptive old fool - and, he trusted Minerva.. So that was it. Minerva was Dumbledore's spy. She and Dumbledore had lied to him. No wonder she had been so distracted after he tried to kiss her. She felt that she was betraying two people.

Well, she wasn't going to betray him. He had worked far too long and hard; he had put more effort and magic into reaching his goal than anything in his life. Two could play this game. She wouldn't think twice about letting him down after he got through with her. He was going to need big magic to pull this off. This meant war.

"Minerva, are you still open to doing this?" Dumbledore asked in concern. "I can find someone else."

"No Professor," she said quickly. "I'll be find."

"You're sure? You have not been acting yourself. I've never seen you this passive before. It worries me."

Minerva rubbed her arm and looked at the floor. "I have been a bit preoccupied as of late, but I will be back to normal once break starts. Exams are coming up and I always get slightly on the edge. The stakes are constantly getting higher."

Dumbledore nodded, satisfied. "Very well. Tell me if it gets to be too much for you."

"I will, sir."

She turned and walked out the door. Tom was leaning against a suit of armor lost in thought. He raised his head as she approached. "Ready?" he asked.

She nodded and fell into step with him as they walked up to the library. She glanced briefly at Tom. He was staring straight ahead.

"I can carry the envelope if you want," he said suddenly.

Minerva tightened her grip on the packet.

"I just thought it might be nice to not have to carry one more thing. Your bag looks rather weighty."

Minerva readjusted her bag on her shoulder. It was a bit heavy. She silently handed Tom the envelope. They walked on without talking. It wasn't an imposing silence, but Minerva found it rather uncomfortable. He was angry with her, she could tell. His eyes had burned after the kiss and they were identical to his expression when he had almost run into her. He was not happy about having her back away.

"How is your father?"

Minerva stopped mid step causing Tom to bump into her arm. She turned to him. Her eyes were laced with confusion and concern.

"How do you know about my father?" she asked quietly.

"I overheard someone talking about it," he admitted. It was the truth, sans a few details.

"I don't know how he is, obviously," she snapped. She surged forward ahead of him. Tom's long stride caught up with her quickly.

"I didn't hear any details, I just heard that something had happened. What happened?"

Minerva spun around.

"Why do you even care?"

"We had a truce, remember?"

"Yes, but I figured that one of us violated the terms of that when we had that fight last week."

Tom shoved his hands in his pockets. "I think we both did, but that doesn't mean that the agreement was void. I thought we were going to try to figure out what Dumbledore was up to."

Minerva's features softened. "Do you actually care, or are you just asking because you want to sound concerned?"

Tom reached for her hand. "I actually care."

Minerva pulled her hand away, but said, "He went missing."

"How long ago?"

"It's been almost two months."

"I'm sorry. What was he doing?"

Minerva sighed and walked to sit down on a stone bench in the corridor. "He is an auror with the ministry. He was appointed as the head auror for the Grindewald division. From the information that I've gathered, he discovered some lead and went off by himself. There was no news of an attack or anything; he just disappeared without a trace."

Tom bit his lip. "Are you close?"

"Not in the slightest."

"So you aren't too worried?"

"He's my blood. Of course I'm worried. I just - wish I was a bit more worried. It's more distracting than anything else. I didn't cry or anything when I found out."

"I wouldn't expect you to." Tom sat down beside her. "I know I wouldn't care at all if my father went missing, or worse."

"From what you've told me about your father, I'm not surprised."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I suppose we should get to work on this," Tom said finally. He stood. "We don't have too much of November left and break will begin before we know it. I'd like to get as much done as we can so we can have some free time over Christmas."

"Good idea," Minerva agreed. As they continued up to the library, thoughts flooded Minerva's mind. Why wasn't he mad at her? It didn't make sense. Something must have happened while she was in Dumbledore's office alone to make him change his mind. Oh well. At least they were talking.

They entered the library, bypassed Madame Pince, and found an empty table Tom took a seat next to Minerva and they opened up the envelope. Enclosed was a list of possible resources that might help, a notebook for Minerva to use for organization, an enchanted card catalog, two year-long passes to the restricted section, and a note saying "good luck." Minerva pulled out a fresh quill and ink and wrote, "The Philosopher's Stone" in green at the top of the notebook.

Tom reviewed the resource list. "These are going to be very interestingly boring," he said with a small groan. "The Essential Properties of Undiluted Aqua Vitae. It's 6,000 pages on the properties of water!"

Minerva laughed a little. "Have fun reading that."

"You'll be reading some of this as well," he frowned. "Listen to this - A Beginner's Guide to Muriatic Acids, Rosicrucianism: An Exhaustive History, Magia Naturalis - that one's all in Latin, and The Scientific Transmutation of Chemical Alloys. These sound absolutely horrific."

"Again, have fun."

Minerva was already scribbling furiously in the notebook.

Tom grumbled and began playing with the card catalog. He wrote in the author he wanted and the card generated the call number. He rose and began picking out reading material. Minerva watched him walk away pursing her lips.

Studying his retreating figure, her eyes caught something. The corner of a small green book peeked out from the pocket of his robes. So, she thought, he carries it around with him. The only problem was getting it away from him and returned without him noticing.

Tom returned with a stack of books that rivaled the leaning tower of Pisa and began tossing them one by one onto the table in an effort to keep from dropping them. Madame Pince's sharp senses alerted her to books being mistreated and she slid from behind the shelves.

"What on earth do you think you are doing, Mr. Riddle?" she seethed in his ear. A very startled Tom whirled around, dropping the books in every direction. He composed himself quickly.

"I'm working on a project for Dumbledore. Go away. I won't hurt any of your precious books."

Minerva's jaw dropped. She had never heard Tom speak with such disrespect towards a teacher or staff member. Madame Pince grimaced and stalked away.

"Irma and I go way back," Tom shrugged when he saw the look of horror on Minerva's face.

"I should take away points for disrespecting a teacher," she said softly.

Tom grinned. "You forget I'm a prefect. I'd just give them back to myself."

Minerva folded her arms for a second, thinking of a retort, but went back to work. For the next four and a half hours, she and Tom poured through the books looking for historical background and interesting facts. The grumble in their stomachs finally alerted them of the need to take a break.

"What time is it?" Tom asked blankly. Their eyes hurt from hours of reading small print.

Minerva glanced at her watch and groaned. "Too late for dinner."

The realization didn't seem to faze Tom, who closed the book he was looking at and stood up.

"Where are you going?" she asked. "The Great Hall is closed."

"We," Tom corrected grabbing her hand, "Are going to get food. Come on. The library is closing soon. We've had enough for tonight. Don't worry. We still have plenty more brainless, tedious work ahead of us."

He pulled her up and placed her bag on her shoulder. "Tom. The Great Hall is closed. How are we going to get food?"

"Come with me and I'll show you," he grinned. He placed his hands on her shoulders and propelled her out of the library. They walked down to the main floor and then down a few more flights of stairs towards the dungeons.

"This is ridiculous Tom. Where are you taking me?"

"I can't believe you've never done this, McGonagall," he said, stopping in front of a painting of a bowl of fruit.

"Done what?"

Tom tickled the pear at the edge of the fruit bowl and it transformed into a doorknob. Minerva's eyes widened as the portrait swung open. Tom placed a hand at the center of her back and led her inside. Seeing the bustling kitchens, she quickly turned to run away. Tom grabbed her by the arm.

"Let me go! We'll get in trouble."

"No we won't. I do this all the time."

Minerva gasped. "But the kitchens are out-of-bounds!"

"So?"

"You're a prefect!"

"So are you and look where you are. Come on. We're getting something to eat." A house elf appeared and looked expectantly up at Tom.

"Hello, Giggles. Could you please get Miss McGonagall and I whatever is left over from dinner. I'm afraid we lost track of time."

Giggles bowed deeply and grinned. "Most certainly, Master Riddle, sir. Whatever you ask."

Minerva folded her arms, but couldn't help being impressed by Tom's kindness to the elf. She hadn't expected as much.

Seconds later, the little elf appeared with a tray brimming with steaming food. Tom thanked him and they walked out through the portrait. Minerva took a deep breath.

"See? That wasn't so bad," Tom mused meeting her eyes.

Minerva tugged at his wrist and led him away from the door. "Let's get out of here before someone sees."

Tom smirked. "Before someone sees you coming out of the kitchens, or before someone sees you with me?"

"Both," she whispered distractedly.

Tom leaned forward. "So tell me, how do you plan on eating unless you're with me?"

"Naturally, you got something for me. Give it to me and I'll see you tomorrow." She reached for the tray, but Tom grabbed her hand instead.

"Ah, I don't think you're going to get off that easily." He sent her an disgustingly charming smile. "You'll eat dinner with me. Then you can go."

"Don't be absurd, Riddle. We'll get in trouble for being out after hours. We aren't on duty."

"No one's around, Minnie. We can go wherever we want."

Minerva stamped her foot on the ground. "Don't call me Minnie! You know that bothers me."

"I won't call you Minnie if you eat dinner with me."

Tom grinned to himself at the look of pure loathing on her face and he walked by. "Are you coming or not? This chicken looks absolutely divine."

Minerva was torn. She could smell the food, the odor wafting deliciously toward her, but she didn't want to give in to Tom. Finally, her stomach got the better of her and she hurried after him. They walked up flights and flights of stairs until they reached the top of the Astronomy tower. Tom flicked his wand and a blanket and candles appeared on the floor.

Minerva looked at him skeptically. This was turning into a very interesting evening.