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I hope everyone's having a nice 1st day of 2003. And how weird is it that it is already 2003? Where are my flying cars? You know, cos in all the old sci-fi movies by 2000 you've got all the flying cars zooming about. Alas, no flying cars yet.

So I've been a vewwy good girl so far. Wrote the first part of the Story That Won't Go Away Till It's Written Down, and worked on part of the third section. Here it is -my very first Riddlefic
Strange and Wondrous
By Vivien

Rating: The series will be NC-17. Ok maybe R, depending on how that New Year's resolution to write sex scenes goes ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I am simply borrowing them.

Author's Note: This is not a love conquers all kind of fic. This is a fic that explores two people with a deep connection and intense relationship that is doomed. So some light reading for you :-P
I have played a bit with ages while trying to stay close to canon. Minerva is 4 years older than Tom, making her still "in her 70's" at the time of Goblet of Fire as per JKR's information.
While there are the required OC's that must be present when dealing with events before the books, I will not be concentrating on them. This story is about Minerva and Tom.

Prologue
1938, Diagon Alley

Minerva McGonagall stood in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, staring at the new display of Silver Arrow 500 racing brooms. She was twisting a strand of her long black hair around a finger while she ran through the possible ways she could convince her father to purchase one for her as soon as possible. Malcolm McGonagall was not an easy person to persuade, and last Christmas he had given her a Silver Arrow 300, but Minerva was convinced she must have this broom to be the best Chaser at Hogwarts. She would appeal to his honor and tradition of upholding Gryffindor house. That had to work, and if not, she'd convince her mother of the need. After all that's how she'd managed to finally get the Silver Arrow 300.
"Minnie! Minnie!" yelled a freckle faced girl with bobbed sandy brown hair from across the street.
Minerva turned around sharply, an annoyed look on her face and dark hazel eyes flashing. "Caitlin, I wrote you just last week that I want to be called Minerva from now on."
Caitlin Crispin rolled her eyes as she ran up to Minerva. "Oh, sorry, Minerva, I forgot your royal edict." She smiled mischievously. "I don't know why you're taking on airs of maturity all of a sudden. We're only starting 4th year, after all."
"Caitlin, I've always hated the name Minnie," said Minerva, brushing her hair from her face. "It makes me sound like a joke, not a daughter of Clan McGonagall. I'm not taking on airs. I'm taking my real name. I'll leave the taking on of airs to Miss Lucretia Malfoy, thank you very much." She nodded her head to where she spied Lucretia in the reflection of the window.
The girls watched her reflection pass by. Minerva was the first to break out into giggles. "Do you see that ridiculous gown she's wearing? Where does she think she is, a ballroom?"
"Sweet Circe, she probably worked five house elves to death just to get the reams of lace made," said Caitlin, laughing.
Arm in arm, the girls left the display window and walked down Diagon Alley. "So what's your news, Caitlin," asked Minerva. "You were so mysterious in your last letter."
"It's not that big of news really, but it's rather unusual. Headmaster Dippet asked Father to perform a special errand today. Minerva, I've been this very morning to a real Muggle orphanage. It was a terrible place - just like what you'd read in Dickens."
"I haven't read Dickens, Cait, and what on earth were you doing at an orphanage?"
"I always forget you've no Muggles in your family, Minnie... oh, sorry, Minerva. You know, Clan McGonagall needs to get with the times. Maybe Alphonsus has a secret Muggle grandparent. It would be marriage made in heaven!"
"Shush, Cait," said Minerva, cheeks going pink at the mention of Alphonsus Goyle, the handsome Ravenclaw 5th year she fancied from afar. "And I'll have you know that my great-grandmother on my mother's side was half Muggle. Now tell me why your father was sent to a Muggle orphanage."
"Well, apparently one of the orphanage inmates is coming to Hogwarts this year. He's this mournful looking little boy who seemed quite astounded by our arrival. Father delivered his Hogwarts letter in person and brought him to do his start of term shopping. Apparently there is a small scholarship fund available for orphans like him, so Father's helping him buy his books and all."
"Is he Muggle born, then?" said Minerva
"I don't know. I suppose so," said Caitlin. "Can you imagine Minerva, being raised by Muggles in a lonely, run down place with no parents?"
"No, I can't. What's his name?"
"Tom. Tom Riddle. Oh look, there he is now."
Minerva saw Professor Crispin, the Potions Master and Caitlin's father, leaving Olivanders with a thin, dark haired boy in tow. The boy was looking all around him, eyes wide.
"Hello, Caitlin," said Professor Crispin, a plump, jovial man wearing tweed robes and a bowler hat. "And hello, Minerva, how were your holidays?"
"Quite lovely, Professor Crispin," said Minerva, "and I quite enjoyed my Potions homework - I found the research on poisons and their antidotes to be fascinating."
"Please note, Father, that she finished all of her homework two weeks after school ended," said Caitlin, making a face.
Minerva pinched Caitlin playfully. "And that gave me more time for holiday making, I'll have you know."
"Girls, you can be the very spirit of vexation at times," laughed Professor Crispin. "Minerva, I would like you to meet Tom Riddle. He's a beginning his first year at Hogwarts."
"Pleased to meet you, Tom," said Minerva, smiling at him and extending her hand. "I'm called Minerva McGonagall."
Tom hesitated for a moment before reaching his hand out to shake hers. "Nice to meet you," Tom said softly, meeting her eyes for the first time. Minerva was taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. Even though his face remained friendly, his eyes held a promise of something... something serious and strangely enticing in such a young face. She felt a shiver of recognition, of a link she couldn't explain in words or thought. It was quite unsettling. He smiled then, and his eyes changed. He was a normal boy again, if slightly taken aback by his circumstances.
"Would you three like to go to Florian's for an ice cream? I have some business to do at Gringott's, and I'm sure Tom would rather spend the time with his classmates rather than myself."
"Oh yes, please, Father," said Caitlin. "We can show him around a bit more as well."
"Very good, very good," said Professor Crispin, giving Tom a pat on the head. Minerva noticed a glint of anger in Tom's eyes in response that vanished almost immediately. Professor Crispin gave each of the children enough coins to gorge themselves on whatever ice cream treat they chose and then said good-bye.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Caitlin blurted out, "So what's it like growing up in an orphanage?"
"Caitlin, how rude!" said Minerva, her eyes darting to Tom to see his reaction.
"It's all right," said Tom, "I understand your curiosity. And I could ask you a similar question: what's it like growing in the wizarding world?" He smiled and cocked his head.
"I apologize for my dear friend's lack of manners," said Minerva. "I'd be happy to answer any questions you have. I can imagine you have many. Shall we talk as we go?"
The three began walking towards Florian's, chatting genially.
----------------------------------------------------
Tom felt like he was walking in a dream. He had always hoped that one day he would be rescued from the orphanage. He had no idea his rescue would be like this. In a much read letter from his mother, written on her death bed, he had learned the promise of his destiny. She had assured him that she was a witch and he would be a powerful wizard. One day he would be taken to her world, the world of magic. He was the great Salazar Slytherin's heir, but he was to tell no one of this until his power grew. He would do great things and avenge his mother's cruel treatment by the Muggle world. She wrote in the letter that this would not make sense to him now, but when he was eleven he would understand. When his eleventh birthday in May had come and gone, he had been devastated. But then foolish Professor Crispin had shown up at the orphanage. Tom knew that his mother's words were true, not the ravings of a dying woman as he had begun to fear. He knew that his destiny would be spectacular indeed.
But first he had to process the information he was receiving. The wonders of Diagon Alley were nearly overwhelming. Tom had always had a vivid imagination, but the sights and sounds around him were beyond anything he had dreamed. He was a wizard, and magic was real. Of all the incredible things that had already happened to him in one day, he thought the most astonishing of all was the girl he was walking beside. Not horrid Caitlin, of course, who had alternately giggled and goggled at him all day. Minerva McGonagall was like no girl he had ever met. She held herself with the poise of a princess, and when she smiled at him, she wasn't pitying him or mocking him. He had always imagined his mother was like this, proud and beautiful and kind.
Tom's only refuge at the orphanage was the small library where he had read every volume a few times over. From a favorite book on Greek mythology he remembered that Minerva was the goddess of wisdom, and from that very first day in Diagon Alley, his Minerva (because he already thought of her as his) was his own personal goddess. Tom Marvolo Riddle fell in quiet and intense love with Minerva McGonagall. She was unattainable - even at eleven he knew that - but he worshipped her just the same. Had he but known that when Minerva looked into his eyes for the first time she had also recognized a connection between them, things might have been different. But in the battle between Darkness and Light, love would not be powerful enough to sway the balance or change destinies.

So anyhoo, got to work on this one a bit more and then get back to Endings and Beginnings. And the two are going to intersect with one particular scene being in both stories from diffeent points of view, so that ought to be cool.

Man, I love vacation. I wish I could stay home like tis every day.

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