FIC: Don't Say Yes (Tom/Minerva) 3/13
Jun. 10th, 2009 09:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Title: III. Don't Say Yes
Character Pairing: Tom Riddle/Minerva McGonogall
Prompt: Don't Say Yes
Rating: PG
Word Count: 901 (Yes! First time under 1000 words.)
Summary: Curiosity killed the cat, as the proverb goes. Well, this time it will just make her miserable.
Author's Notes: Writer's block stopped this one dead in its tracks for a while. What started off as one prompt bled into two and I certainly want to avoid posting out of chronological order.
Link to Prompt Table: Table
III. Don't Say Yes
"Well?"
The excited giggle came from - unfortunately - every side. No escape from her year-mates this close to Christmas, considering the holidays and conspicuous lack of homework. Miraculously, even the teachers seemed in a festive mood.
"Well what?" Minerva snapped.
"Well, concerning the handsome, rich and noble Abraxas Malfoy, will he, or will he not, invite a certain young lady to the Ball this year?" interrogated the Hufflepuff to her right.
"Poppy, honestly, how should I know? He hasn't asked anyone yet!"
This time, the attack came from the left.
"You almost sound relieved Minnie. Every other girl in the school has a high opinion of him."
"Exactly. Including Abraxas."
Xiomara Hooch suppressed a snicker. That didn't mean she intended to let up, as Minerva well knew.
"So what is wrong with him?"
"He's handsome, rich and noble," Minerva grumbled. "He uses his looks to beguile people into giving him unfair advantages, spends money like water and thinks he's royalty just because his family ranked second in the patrician Game and the first family have all kicked the bucket!"
"I forget sometimes Minnie. You're handsome, rich and noble as well," sniffed Poppy.
"Fighting again ladies? Over me perhaps?" joked a voice.
"Hardly, Weasley. Where's the Prewitt girl who fancies you?" Hooch parried.
"With me, soon as I've given you all those books you lent to Riddle over the holidays. He would have delivered them himself, but Slughorn has him running about like a headless manticore. Something about NEWT papers."
"Oh, you shouldn't have," Minerva said, eyeing the growing pile Weasley was dumping on the desk. Had she really lent him what looked like half the library?
"So you want to go out with the complete opposite of Malfoy?" Poppy mused. "Let me guess..."
"Pomfrey, not everyone considers Tom Riddle to be unattractive. That's just you."
"So Xiomara, you're entirely enamoured of the tall, thin, bony fifth-year with skin paler than a vampire's and hair that looks like Peeves just threw an ink pot over it?"
"I'm just saying that sometimes you sound like Grindlewald's propaganda. Mate with Aryans! Further the Master Race! Join the SS and be paid to kill people!"
"If an Aryan prisoner of war turned up on my doorstep in a pair of SS boots and nothing else, I'd mate with him!"
The pair collapsed in helpless giggles. Even Minerva laughed. Quietly. After all, they were in a library. That blasted pile of books... Mathematical Methods for Transfigurers, that was a bit advanced, surely? De Havillard's Grimoire, Merlin, she hadn't really allowed that out of the safe?! Introduction to Marvolo-Saint-Germain Theory. Ah, that was where she had heard Riddle's - Tom's - middle name before. She turned to the authors' biography.
"If they weren't a prisoner of war, ladies?"
The aforementioned - yes, Aryan - Abraxas Malfoy had somehow sauntered up to her without detection. So much for following in her father's footsteps - she'd never make a decent Auror! More giggles ensued. An 'oooh, that depends!' issued from someone at the table.
"Lady Minerva, surely you have an opinion?" Malfoy questioned.
"I reserve judgement, Master Abraxas."
"I hope you won't reserve judgement if I ask for your presence at the Yule Ball."
No knight in shining armour would be charging to her rescue. In fact, half the library had shut up to listen. Bloody Malfoys. Bloody English in general.
"Would it be so terrible? Some intelligent conversation, a waltz or two, come now, you can't refuse me this, surely!"
Minerva plastered a smile on her face.
"My thanks, Master Malfoy. I would be honoured."
Malfoy beamed, kissed her hand and swaggered off. Minerva returned to her page with a scowl.
Francois, Duc de Saint-Germain and Marius, Lord Marvolo, are perhaps the most significant contributors to Dark magic in the past millennium. Their work, elucidated for the Light wizard in this volume, forms a cornerstone of modern magical principles despite its heinous origins...
Significant contributors to Dark magic. Dark magic. The arts which ate away at the soul and the mind. Yet Riddle was an orphan, surely ignorant of his family's...gifts. He would have to stay that way. And yet...didn't the book say that its contents related to Light magic? Marvolo and Saint-Germain had worked on, on... She felt like banging her head against the desk until the answer slid out. Her father had taught her this, so it had to be some kind of transfiguration... A slip of paper lay on the page, obscuring the next line. The witch flicked it away and continued.
"So, Abraxas... ooh, he's desperate!"
Pomfrey poked at her shoulder.
"Malfoy is sending you love notes."
No response.
"Minnie, are you even listening?"
Exasperated, she shoved the note under Minerva's nose.
Dearest Minerva,
Will you attend the Yule Ball with me? I hope you will forgive my cowardice in not asking you face-to-face: I usually avoid Christmas like the plague and there is only so much courage I can summon at once. Doubtless our charming Head Girl will obtain a better offer, but I may as well seize the chance.
Ah. That certainly wasn't Malfoy's scrawl.
Minerva didn't know what worried her most: that she had accepted Malfoy, or denied a wizard of a far darker heritage.
Character Pairing: Tom Riddle/Minerva McGonogall
Prompt: Don't Say Yes
Rating: PG
Word Count: 901 (Yes! First time under 1000 words.)
Summary: Curiosity killed the cat, as the proverb goes. Well, this time it will just make her miserable.
Author's Notes: Writer's block stopped this one dead in its tracks for a while. What started off as one prompt bled into two and I certainly want to avoid posting out of chronological order.
Link to Prompt Table: Table
"Well?"
The excited giggle came from - unfortunately - every side. No escape from her year-mates this close to Christmas, considering the holidays and conspicuous lack of homework. Miraculously, even the teachers seemed in a festive mood.
"Well what?" Minerva snapped.
"Well, concerning the handsome, rich and noble Abraxas Malfoy, will he, or will he not, invite a certain young lady to the Ball this year?" interrogated the Hufflepuff to her right.
"Poppy, honestly, how should I know? He hasn't asked anyone yet!"
This time, the attack came from the left.
"You almost sound relieved Minnie. Every other girl in the school has a high opinion of him."
"Exactly. Including Abraxas."
Xiomara Hooch suppressed a snicker. That didn't mean she intended to let up, as Minerva well knew.
"So what is wrong with him?"
"He's handsome, rich and noble," Minerva grumbled. "He uses his looks to beguile people into giving him unfair advantages, spends money like water and thinks he's royalty just because his family ranked second in the patrician Game and the first family have all kicked the bucket!"
"I forget sometimes Minnie. You're handsome, rich and noble as well," sniffed Poppy.
"Fighting again ladies? Over me perhaps?" joked a voice.
"Hardly, Weasley. Where's the Prewitt girl who fancies you?" Hooch parried.
"With me, soon as I've given you all those books you lent to Riddle over the holidays. He would have delivered them himself, but Slughorn has him running about like a headless manticore. Something about NEWT papers."
"Oh, you shouldn't have," Minerva said, eyeing the growing pile Weasley was dumping on the desk. Had she really lent him what looked like half the library?
"So you want to go out with the complete opposite of Malfoy?" Poppy mused. "Let me guess..."
"Pomfrey, not everyone considers Tom Riddle to be unattractive. That's just you."
"So Xiomara, you're entirely enamoured of the tall, thin, bony fifth-year with skin paler than a vampire's and hair that looks like Peeves just threw an ink pot over it?"
"I'm just saying that sometimes you sound like Grindlewald's propaganda. Mate with Aryans! Further the Master Race! Join the SS and be paid to kill people!"
"If an Aryan prisoner of war turned up on my doorstep in a pair of SS boots and nothing else, I'd mate with him!"
The pair collapsed in helpless giggles. Even Minerva laughed. Quietly. After all, they were in a library. That blasted pile of books... Mathematical Methods for Transfigurers, that was a bit advanced, surely? De Havillard's Grimoire, Merlin, she hadn't really allowed that out of the safe?! Introduction to Marvolo-Saint-Germain Theory. Ah, that was where she had heard Riddle's - Tom's - middle name before. She turned to the authors' biography.
"If they weren't a prisoner of war, ladies?"
The aforementioned - yes, Aryan - Abraxas Malfoy had somehow sauntered up to her without detection. So much for following in her father's footsteps - she'd never make a decent Auror! More giggles ensued. An 'oooh, that depends!' issued from someone at the table.
"Lady Minerva, surely you have an opinion?" Malfoy questioned.
"I reserve judgement, Master Abraxas."
"I hope you won't reserve judgement if I ask for your presence at the Yule Ball."
No knight in shining armour would be charging to her rescue. In fact, half the library had shut up to listen. Bloody Malfoys. Bloody English in general.
"Would it be so terrible? Some intelligent conversation, a waltz or two, come now, you can't refuse me this, surely!"
Minerva plastered a smile on her face.
"My thanks, Master Malfoy. I would be honoured."
Malfoy beamed, kissed her hand and swaggered off. Minerva returned to her page with a scowl.
Francois, Duc de Saint-Germain and Marius, Lord Marvolo, are perhaps the most significant contributors to Dark magic in the past millennium. Their work, elucidated for the Light wizard in this volume, forms a cornerstone of modern magical principles despite its heinous origins...
Significant contributors to Dark magic. Dark magic. The arts which ate away at the soul and the mind. Yet Riddle was an orphan, surely ignorant of his family's...gifts. He would have to stay that way. And yet...didn't the book say that its contents related to Light magic? Marvolo and Saint-Germain had worked on, on... She felt like banging her head against the desk until the answer slid out. Her father had taught her this, so it had to be some kind of transfiguration... A slip of paper lay on the page, obscuring the next line. The witch flicked it away and continued.
"So, Abraxas... ooh, he's desperate!"
Pomfrey poked at her shoulder.
"Malfoy is sending you love notes."
No response.
"Minnie, are you even listening?"
Exasperated, she shoved the note under Minerva's nose.
Dearest Minerva,
Will you attend the Yule Ball with me? I hope you will forgive my cowardice in not asking you face-to-face: I usually avoid Christmas like the plague and there is only so much courage I can summon at once. Doubtless our charming Head Girl will obtain a better offer, but I may as well seize the chance.
Ah. That certainly wasn't Malfoy's scrawl.
Minerva didn't know what worried her most: that she had accepted Malfoy, or denied a wizard of a far darker heritage.