So...this chapter was a pain in the neck. I had to rewrite it twice before I got it to where I like it. Tom and Minerva are so twisted. Please review guys. It'd make me smile a little bit. Please?

The Book

Minerva sat in the library, engrossed in the magazine article, "Theoretical Theory: What Alchemist's Say Could or Could Not Be." She pulled a quill from behind her ear and began jotting down notes to herself. Her lips moved with the words and she muttered a little. She was tired. The lateness of the night before had only been doubled as she tossed and turned in her sleep.

Tom Riddle had kissed her; granted, it was on the hand, but he had kissed her. Minerva McGonagall! It didn't makes sense. He was the Slytherin prince - handsome, dashing, popular, and incredibly smart. She was the Gryffindor bookworm - reserved, uptight, unsociable, and while not being entirely devoid of a mind, had very little to show for physically. She was plain and that was fine with her; it had been fine with him too, until the night before.

"This is ridiculous, Minerva," she mumbled to herself. She grabbed another magazine from the stack she had procured and skimmed through it to find what she needed. She wrote furiously into the little notebook, not caring that ink was spattering the opposite page. She needed something to get him off her mind.

"I know. How about you focus all your attention on this painfully boring article on rocks? Doesn't that sound like a good plan?" she spat sarcastically. "Maybe then, you can fine the perfect rock to hit yourself over the head with!" She underlined a few things in her notes and plunged on. She dissected the rest of the articles in a few minutes and stood to find more. As she walked down towards the restricted section, she couldn't help but remember her dream from the beginning of the year. She suddenly felt a chill.

"You are being absolutely childish, Minerva," she chided herself. She inched closer to the back of the library and a slight movement in the corner of her eye caused her to jump. A dumpy little figure emerged. It was only Myrtle - who a person would indeed jump at the sight of, but was relatively harmless.

"Minerva!" Myrtle exclaimed. She sprang to her feet and grabbed the startled prefect's hand. "I've just been looking for someone I could tell."

"What is it, Myrtle?" Minerva asked through clenched teeth.

"Well," Myrtle began, brushing an invisible tear from her eye, "Olive Hornby said that I…"

"Myrtle," Minerva interrupted. "I believe I've told you a dozen times, but I'll say it once more. What Olive Hornby says or does to you is between you and her. Yes, I understand that she can be quite the twit to you sometimes, but I can do very little to solve that. I think that you should confront her about it and tell her how you feel. Okay?"

"But, Minerva…"

"Myrtle." Minerva sighed. She felt as if she was trying to explain to a three-year-old why a burning cauldron was hot. "I am very busy right now. Do you understand? I am working on a very important project for Professor Dumbledore and I cannot be disturbed. I don't want you to come near me unless it's an absolute emergency. Okay?"

Myrtle's face contorted and she looked like she was going to cry. She nodded and turned.

"So is it true about you and Professor Dumbledore, then?" she asked before walking away.

Minerva stopped short. "What do you mean?" she seethed.

"Well, that you're…well…you know…"

Minerva spun around so fast that a very surprised Myrtle fell backwards over a bench. "Who told you that?" she barked.

"Well, I heard Olive say something about it while I was crying in the bathroom, but she heard it from Perry who heard it from his Slytherin girlfriend who I think originally heard it from her old boyfriend who - as you know- is Titus Avery who most likely heard it from -"

"Tom Riddle," Minerva finished firmly.

"How did you know?" Myrtle asked with wide eyes. "I never would have guessed it myself since you never talk to Tom Riddle, except that I heard it from Olive and she tends to know about all the…"

"I'm going to kill him," Minerva growled under her breath. She turned and walked away from Myrtle who continued to tell the story. She unhooked the latch to the restricted section, grabbed the book she wanted - a dilapidated looking text with chipped gold lettering reading "Vivo Vixi Victum", and tucked it under her arm. She couldn't believe the nerve of him - spreading a rumor that he knew perfectly well wasn't true.

"You're losing it, Minerva," she said under her breath.

She stalked back to the desk and slammed the book down. Why did he have to make everything so much more complicated than it needed to be? She opened the book up and began scanning the pages for information. Her eyes stopped as she came across something she hadn't been expecting, causing her to completely forget about Tom Riddle. How could Hogwarts even have a book like this? This was dark, dark magic.

She turned another page. "Sweet Merlin," she murmured.

"Talking to yourself again, Minerva? Really. People will think that you've gone batty. I already knew, but I see you every day. Now the general public will begin to see you that you're completely nutters. Maybe you should stick to…"

"Shut it Tom and come have a look at this," Minerva commanded without looking up. Tom appeared over her shoulder and looked at the page she was reading. He swore slightly under his breath.

"Are you sure Dumbledore meant for us to use this?" Minerva questioned. She set it down as Tom hurriedly flipped through the pages. "It's great stuff, but can Flamel even put it in his book? That is highly illegal; all of it!"

Tom plopped down in the chair next to her. He looked as if he had received a sharp blow to the chest. Slowly, he came back to his senses. "Flamel? I thought Dumbledore was -"

Minerva leaned her head back. She had forgotten that he didn't know and that she wasn't supposed to tell him. "Hmm?" She decided to play innocent.

"Flamel? As in Nicholas Flamel? He actually has the stone? He succeeded?" Tom ran his fingers through his hair. Minerva glanced at him. She couldn't read the expression on his face. He seemed on edge, or excited, or something else entirely.

Minerva shrugged. "He might have. I don't really know. I just heard Dumbledore mention his name."

"Minerva! He attempted to create the stone six hundred years ago, and you're telling me he's still alive? He most certainly did succeed! None of this 'might have' stuff."

"I don't think that this new piece of information changes the nature of what we're doing."

Tom stood agitatedly, ignoring her. "Then, maybe this is a real project. Maybe there isn't something he wanted us to find, unless…" He grabbed for the large book in front of them. "Unless it's this! Maybe this is what we were supposed to stumble across!"

"Surely Dumbledore wouldn't -"

"But what if he did?"

"That's ridiculous Tom. It's just an old, dark book. Dumbledore must not have realized the contents if he put it on the list. There is no reason whatsoever why we should need a book with such powerful magic." Minerva pried the book from his hands and began walking to back to the restricted section. Tom dashed after her.

"Are you putting it back?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course I'm putting it back. It is of no use to us."

"Wait Minerva." He stepped in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Maybe somehow this book is the key to defeating Grindewald. Maybe we should dig a little deeper. Read through it a bit."

Minerva pushed past him, still clutching the book. "I have no desire to pollute my mind with such horrific sentiment as is in this book. I am putting it back and I am notifying Dumbledore of its contents immediately. I should think the ministry shall want to remove it from this library as soon as possible."

Tom took a deep breath and tried another tactic. "Think about it. This book could be the key to Grindewald's power. He has escaped from so many battles unscathed. He might have -"

"He wouldn't. No one would."

Tom lifted her chin and looked into her eyes seriously. "Some people would do anything for power," he said hauntingly. His eyes seemed to emanate a red glow and Minerva suddenly became frightened. She backed into one of the bookshelves. "Anything. There are people out there who would gladly sell their souls for a chance to gain power. Do not delude yourself with the silly little Gryffindor idea that everyone has some good in them." He took a step closer and Minerva cringed. "There are people who would torture, and steal, and kill for the pleasure of it - to feel that they have power over someone weaker. There are some people who are nothing but evil. Nothing. Do not forget that, Minerva."

Her eyes were wide open in pure, unadulterated fear. Her breathing became short. Slowly, she handed the book to him. His countenance immediately changed from unnervingly serious to its normal indifference. "Thank you Minerva. I promise we'll put it back as soon as we're through. I think you're right that it is no book for a library to have. Especially one so - wholesome - as this one."

Minerva laughed nervously. He had attempted to make a snarky comment to ease her unease, that was apparent. But why? Why had he suddenly grown so distant? Was that even the right word? Cold, dark, malevolent. Now that was perhaps a bit to strong.

He walked away. Minerva's feet were still glued to the floor. He stopped and waited for her. She regained feeling in her limbs and scurried after him. They sat down at the table facing each other. Tom studied her tired eyes. "Merlin, Minerva. You really should get more sleep. Those bags under your eyes look big enough to hide a hippogriff."

"That's easy for you to say, Riddle."

"Oh?" Tom's eyes lit up and he leaned over her. "And why is that?"

Minerva colored and stared blankly at the note she had been about to right. Where had that thought gone?

"Minnie. I asked you a question."

"Ah ah," she grinned looking up. "I went to dinner with you. I stayed out past curfew. I got caught about to - I got caught by a teacher. I held up my end of the bargain, so now it's your turn. You are no longer ever able to use that name again. My name is Minerva. Of course, if you feel like being a true gentleman you can refer to me as Miss McGonagall."

"Those are my only options?" Tom asked deviously.

"Yes. I believe they adequately serve their purpose. Although, I also would not be entirely opposed to you ceasing contact with me altogether."

"What if I decide you need a name that only I know?" Minerva tilted her head. What was he getting at?

"Then I suppose I cannot stop you from using it when you are talking to yourself. I, however, do not wish to hear it uttered from you lips."

"And other various forms of endearment?"

"I have no idea what that is supposed to mean Tom Riddle."

"Well, obviously it means that I plan on becoming endeared to you."

"You are insane." Minerva scribbled something down and snapped her quill in half.

"A little bit on the edge there, darling?"

Minerva's cheeks burned scarlet. She looked around to see if anyone was lurking about watching them. There was a group of sixth years a few yards away, but it didn't look as if anyone had heard. "Tom, I'm warning you…"

"What's wrong, my sweet?"

"Stop it Riddle."

"Now really dearest, if I am not allowed to chose what name I call you, you must discontinue this use of my surname. It really isn't fitting."

"I swear I'll…" She grabbed for her wand and held it to his face. He calmly batted it away and ruffled his hair in the same sweeping gesture.

"Pumpkin, I know you'd never hurt me." Pumpkin? Had he just referred to her as Pumpkin? Minerva watched him grin smugly. So that was it. He was baiting her. He didn't think she would actually hurt him? Well, he had messed with the wrong girl.

"Perversum!" she hissed. Tom's eyes widened and he flipped over the back of his chair, flew about twelve feet in the air, and landed squarely on his back at the table where the sixth years were sitting. The girls jumped up in surprise and one of them screamed, while the boys turned to see who had launched the spell. Minerva's mouth dropped. She hadn't expected him to fly quite so far.

Tom groaned and sat up. He looked from the startled sixth years to a nearly fainting Minerva and bit back a smile. "Good show, Minerva!" he called loudly. "Let's try it again. This time, aim more for the top of the shelves."

Madame Pince appeared from behind a bookcase and barked a few things out at the students. Minerva clutched the back of her chair for support as the librarian swooped over the sixth years, asking them questions about the nature of their business in the library. Tom settled it for them, whispered a few word to them, and then returned to Minerva. She was standing, gripping the chair so tightly that her knuckles were white, and swaying slightly. Tom said nothing, but allowed her to fall directly into his arms as she sank into a dead faint.