I thought it would be best to post this as soon as I finished it to force myself to start on the next chapter. It's not particularly long, but I like it a lot. They are both so ridiculously disfunctional. Please review!

The Winner

"I found a few things that might help," a muffled voice said from behind a precariously placed pile of books. Minerva slammed the books down on the table. "Some of these are more about immortality in general, but they ought to provide some sort of background." Tom glanced up from the book he was reading and nodded distractedly. In the three days he had been at the McGonagall's they had gotten very little accomplished. The first day had been filled with settling in, eating dinner in the enormous dining room, and chatting over coffee before bed. The second day, Apollo had insisted they go to London with him so he could show them where he worked and take them shopping for Christmas presents in Diagon Alley. Tom found it all very frustrating.

Minerva sat down across from him and opened a book. "I owled Professor Dumbledore to let him know we got here safely. I asked him how everything was going at the castle as well."

Tom nodded but didn't look up.

"I do hope everything's going all right. I wonder how Smelting's doing. He was still pretty shaken up when we left."

Tom kept his nose in his book. He was waiting to see how long it would take until she got frustrated with him and started yelling. It had been far to long since they'd had a reasonable fight. He didn't want her to think he was going too soft. A few seconds passed. She didn't seem to notice that he was ignoring her, and set off to work. Tom sighed. He would have to instigate an argument later.

They worked in silence for a number of hours. Every so often, one of them would mutter to themselves or laugh at something in the book they were reading, but for the most part they remained quiet. At promptly twelve o'clock, a house elf rushed in and bowed to Minerva.

"Lunch is served, Miss Minerva," she squeaked.

Minerva looked up from her book and pursed her lips. "Would you have it brought up here?" she asked without looking at Tom for input. "We'd really rather not be disrupted now that we have the motivation to get this done."

"Yes, Miss Minerva."

"And Dolores?" The house elf stopped mid-step. "Send my apologies to Mother." The house elf shuddered a little, but nodded and scampered off.

Tom flipped back and forth through the index and bibliography of the book he was studying, pretending he had not witnessed the conversation. He was not terribly fond of house elves, having had very little contact with them over the years. He was especially not fond of ones that insisted on folding all of his things into perfect little piles. He'd been about to kick one the day before, until Minerva stopped him with a wary glance.

He flipped a page. Suddenly, his face lit up. "Minerva," he whispered excitedly.

Minerva pretended to ignore him like he had ignored her all morning.

"Minnie seriously, you need to take a look at this."

Minerva threw him an angry look, but rose and slid into the chair beside him. He pointed to a citation on the page and she shrugged.

"I don't really see how that helps us any. It just cites one of the books we used. I don't even remember what that one was about."

Tom waved her off agitatedly. "No, don't you remember? Vivo Vixi Victum. That's the one with the – the one you almost made me put back."

Minerva put her hands on her hips. "That book had nothing to do with the Philosopher's Stone, Tom. It was just full of dark magic. I can't believe you even remember all that." She shivered. "I tried to put it all out of my mind."

Tom wasn't listening. "Wait here," he said shortly. He stood up and ran out of the library to his room. He rummaged through his bag, throwing things left and right. If only those stupid house elves hadn't gone through everything, he muttered to himself. Finally, he found what he was looking for. He held up a brown package and tapped his wand against it. It swelled back to its original size.

"Vivo Vixi Victum," he breathed, running his hand across the cover. So this was it. The book he had been looking for. The other book had finally confirmed it.

He laughed to himself. To think, he had started with a plan so small. Heir of Slytherin! It sounded almost laughable now. He was going to be so much more than the Heir of Slytherin. He was going to be the greatest wizard of all time. And perfect Minerva McGonagall was going to help him achieve preeminence.

Tom jogged back downstairs, without the book, and reentered the library to find Minerva hovering over the table with her back to the door. She jumped when he entered and knocked over her massive tower of books. "Don't do that!" she hissed. "You about scared me half to – what are you so happy about?"

"Nothing," he said saucily with a smirk. He had made a decision. The war was over. She had lost and he had won. She now belonged to him. He had nothing to lose. Minerva watched him in utter bewilderment as he swaggered towards her and took her in his arms. Without warning, he took her lips in his own. She gasped at the sudden contact and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. He could feel her knees buckle beneath her, so he backed her forcefully into the table and leaned on top of her as she fell backwards. Books went scattering to the floor.

"Tom...we shouldn't...Mother...could...walk in..." she gasped in spurts.

Tom ran his hands along her neck and down her shoulders. "Let her," he growled. He kissed the soft spot beneath her ear and heard her whimper slightly and relax into his arms. She felt so good in his arms, under his power.

So this was what power felt like. It was intoxicating, exhilarating. He wanted more.

"Minerva," he whispered silkily into her ear.

"What?" she breathed.

Just as he was about to speak, the doors burst open as Dolores returned with lunch. Minerva was still pinned against the table with Tom gripping her by the waist. She attempted to squirm out of his grasp, but he held her tight. The elf curtsied with wide eyes and set the lunch tray on the table before disappearing with a loud crack.

Tom grasped Minerva's hands and helped her up. She was still breathing heavily and her face was flushed. "She'll tell Mother if she asks," Minerva said quietly.

"Would that really be so bad?" Tom asked, kissing the top of her head. He froze, contemplating his next move. Should he? What would Avery and Lestrange say? This wouldn't be so easy to hide. He looked down at Minerva. Her hair was falling out of its bun, her glasses were slightly askew, and her blouse had worked its way out of her skirt. Yes, it was worth it.

"Perhaps we should make this official," he said.

"You mean..."

"I think we should date, officially."

"You would be seen with me? In public?" Minerva asked incredulously. "What would your friends say? They'd think you'd gone absolutely mad."

"I'm starting to think I have," he said with a laugh. He ran his hand through his jet black hair contemplatively.

"What about Dumbledore?"

"What about him? Is your lover going to be upset with you?" Minerva's eyes flared, but she didn't retaliate.

"He gave us a project to work on. I thought we had decided he wasn't playing matchmaker. What if he thinks that we didn't give the write-up the attention it deserves?"

"Dumbledore is the last thing you should be worrying about," Tom replied. Unless you're his spy. Then he's going to be very upset with you.

"Still Tom, this is a rather big decision, don't you think?"

Leave it to me to ask Minerva bloody McGonagall out. She would, of course, overanalyze every sodding detail. This was going to be harder than he thought.

He gripped her arms tightly and leaned down to her level. "Minerva, I understand if you need some time to think about this. I just wanted to make sure you know where I stand."

Minerva bit her lip. "Does this have anything to do with what my brother said to you the other day?"

"Maybe a little," Tom replied truthfully, although the talk had more infuriated him than intimidated him. "But I was going to ask you anyway."

Minerva swallowed. "Well, then you might as well go ahead and ask me."

"I did."

"You didn't really."

"I said I thought we should make it official."

"Just state it in the form of a question, Tom. I'd rather not look back on this day and remember you ordering me to date you."

Tom hesitated. It wasn't exactly the easiest thing for him to say. It sounded so – adolescent. Minerva looked up at him expectantly. "Will you..." he ran his hands through his hair one more time in embarrassment. "Will you be my girlfriend, Minerva?" he finished lamely.

"I'll have to take it under consideration."

"You what?" he cried incredulously.

"I need to think it over a bit. I'll let you know what I decide."

"Oh thanks. That's very considerate of you," he spat sarcastically.

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "Just be happy I didn't turn you down on the spot."

They sat back down to continue working while Tom tried not to say anything that was going to make the situation worse. He slammed a book up onto its spine.

"Have you decided yet?"

"I told you I'd take it under consideration. I don't really appreciate that you just assumed I would say yes."

"I'm sorry, Minerva," he bristled. "I suppose I thought the fact that you allowed me to stick my tongue down your throat a few minutes ago was enough to ensure a 'yes'."

"Do you have to put it so vulgarly? Besides, I didn't ask you to kiss me."

"But you let me! And you kissed back!"

"Are we really arguing about this, Tom?"

"Yes, Minerva. I think we are!"

"Fine! You go ahead and be juvenile. I'm getting back to work."

"Good. You might as well get something done after chatting away all morning."

"And just what is that supposed to mean, Tom Riddle?" She drew her wand. He had apparently hit a soft spot.

"It means, you hardly left me alone all morning. Another reason I thought my question wouldn't be so unreasonable. I thought you were smitten with me."

"Smitten?" Her eyes raged and she pointed her wand towards his chest. "For your information, Minerva McGonagall has not and will not be smitten with anyone, ever. I am not one of your stupid, seductive, simpering Slytherin conquests, Riddle. I have complete control over my emotions."

"I can see that," he said dryly, pushing her wand to the side.

"You should," she snapped. "If you think I'm going to fall for your ridiculous pick-up lines and swoon the moment you whisper 'sweet nothings' in my ear you're sorely mistaken. I will not be manipulated!"

Tom couldn't help but admire her. He loved seeing her angry. Her hair was absolutely wild now. Her eyes were on fire with passion. She looked like a siren ready to strike.

"Very well, Minerva. I will refrain from whispering any 'sweet nothings' if they are not going to have the desired effect."

Tension seemed to flow out of Minerva as she realized he was not going to fight back anymore.

"Thank you," she said tersely. "I would be most obliged."

They worked in an awkward silence for a few minutes. Tom finally reached across the table and placed his hand gently upon hers.

"Just let me know soon, okay."

She sighed and slowly pulled her hand away. "Okay."

Minerva went back to her book and he went back to his. So his plans weren't working out quite as perfectly as he'd thought. Oh well. At least he'd fulfilled his argument quota for the week.

Minerva peeked over the top of her book to find Tom staring at her. She swallowed and looked back down. He knew. She was sure of it. She had never been particularly good at being evasive.

She shifted awkwardly back and forth in her chair. It was only three in the afternoon – definitely too early to leave to change for dinner. Her fingers twitched. She needed to get out of there. Soon.

He suspected something. She was sure of it. She swallowed again and wiped away a bead of sweat from her brow. Minerva, you better cut all this out or he'll know something's up, she chided herself.

The sun cast a long beam of light across the desk. She pretended it was shining in her eyes and got up to close the curtains. She could feel his eyes following her. He was angry; that was exceedingly apparent. She sat back down and crossed her legs agitatedly.

"Will you sit still already?" Tom snapped. "You're making me nervous."

"I'm having a hard time concentrating, though I haven't the slightest idea why that would be," she replied pointedly.

Tom snapped his book shut, causing her to jump.

"I vote we call it a day then, Miss McGonagall."

"I agree," she spat.

They tidied up the mess a little and left the room without saying a word. Tom was staying in the west wing, and Minerva's room was on the north side of the house, so as soon as she was out of sight she took off in a dead sprint. She didn't stop running until she was safely in her room, door locked, windows closed.

She had it. She had finally found her opening. Granted, Dumbledore probably wouldn't have agreed with her methods of espionage, but she had succeeded nonetheless. The kiss had done it. The kiss had thrown him off guard enough for her to grab her prize.

She hadn't been sure if she was going to be able to go through with it. She'd wrestled with it the entire time he had been out of the room. But she had taken a chance in the end, and she'd conquered. A smile of triumph crossed her lips as she flopped backwards onto her bed. Breathing heavily from anticipation and exhaustion, she pulled out a tattered green notebook from the pocket of her robes and slowly flipped to the first page.