AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I've wanted to explore the relationship between Voldemort and McGonagall in a different setting for a long time, and I finished my last Tom/Minerva series not feeling fully satisfied. Therefore, I think I will take a different approach to it this time around.

Now, the lines in italics are taken directly from JK Rowling's book, 'The Half-Blood Prince', and there is no way in hell they are mine. No. Not mine, not at all. I used them to set the scene. Full credit to her. I want to explore the 'what if?' side of Dumbles wanting to keep a closer watch on Voldemort, and what better way to do it than to shove him right under his nose?

For those of you who might not remember, in the book, Voldemort came back to hide his last horcrux in the castle. Dumbledore says he did genuinely want the position, evidenced by the fact that no other professor could hold the position for more than a year after he left. For now, I'm playing with an alternative.

The writing style in this, the prologue, is deliberately brief. I wanted to sort of play off JK's writing style to help keep the flow of the book to this fanfic intact. The other chapters will probably be more my style, with the majority of the story alternating between Voldemort and Minerva's points of view.

I hope you enjoy it! I'm really excited to get started. The title is based on Duffy's song by the same name. It's a fantastic song, and I always wanted to use it for Tom and Min.

Much love! Let me know what you think!

"Let us speak openly. Why have you come here tonight, surrounded by henchmen, to request a job we both know you do not want."

Voldemort looked coldly surprised. "A job I do not want. On the contrary, Dumbledore, I want it very much."

"Oh, you want to come back to Hogwarts, but you do not want to teach any more than you wanted to when you were eighteen. What is it you're after, Tom? Why not try an open request for once."

Voldemort sneered. "If you do not want to give me a job —"

Dumbledore smiled, a smile that he knew a man like Tom would never be able to fully comprehend, and managed to cut him off swiftly, "But I do, Tom."

There was a stunned silence from the other side of the table. Voldemort's sallow complexion paled a hint more, and then his eyes darkened, "What?"

"I would like to offer you the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts," Dumbledore explained calmly, his hands folded together neatly as they rested on his desk. "After all, you were the best pupil this school has seen to date… I would be remiss if I didn't give you an opportunity to shine once more in these halls."

The man's lip twitched, and for a moment Albus pondered if he was at a loss for words. It would certainly be a first if that was the case. Even in his school years, Tom Riddle always had something to say when Dumbledore tracked him down in the hallways, or after class. How funny that when he was given something he actually wanted, he faltered.

"And…" he managed finally, his voice strained, "if I were to decline the offer?"

"Then I might ask you to fully explain why you have come to Hogwarts," Dumbledore reasoned, his thick eyebrows shooting up. "What else might draw you back, Tom?"

"This job was all I wanted," the man sneered venomously, his knuckles white as a pair of fists sat patiently in his lap. "I… It's very generous of you to actually offer me the job. I… I find it very hard to turn down."

"Now, now," Dumbledore mused, holding up a finger. "There are some conditions to your acceptance."

"Oh?"

"Your… friends are not welcome on school grounds," Dumbledore explained, referring to the lackeys who followed Tom's every word. "You will be fired if they set one foot near any of the students. Do I make myself clear?"

Voldemort sat silently, much as he had done many years ago when Dumbledore questioned him over the disappearance of one of the students in his house. He claimed to know nothing, but sat with that bitter, angry expression just the same. Albus always knew of his guilt, but he lacked the proof. It wouldn't be the same this time around. He was going to take down the ominous Lord Voldemort, if it was the last thing he did in this world.

"Secondly," he continued, holding up a second finger, "you will be known as Professor Riddle within the castle. The name you go by now is unacceptable to use, as many of the children are worried enough about your doings in the wizarding world. I won't allow it."

Voldemort smirked a little, but his eyes raged on dangerously. Dumbledore had, no doubt, foiled his true plans for this visit to the castle.

"Thirdly," he carried on, "you will teach what is prescribed by the curriculum of Hogwarts. I always allow my professors to experiment, but should I discover you are teaching my students dark magic, I will personally ensure you never leave Azkaban."

"A daunting fate indeed," was the only response he managed. Dumbledore stared down at the man across from him, his blue eyes steely.

"Finally, you will be monitored closely. If you wish to teach and impart knowledge to my pupils in the proper manner, I will keep you in your post. If you break my conditions, I will catch you, Tom."

Dark, bored eyes stared back at him, and once again the man said nothing of substance. Dumbledore sighed, and then leaned forward a hint, "Do you accept my terms?"

There was a very long pause, until finally Voldemort nodded, "For now."

"Careful, Tom."

"I'm always careful, Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed, his eyes narrowing. "You of all people should know that."

"Painfully so," Dumbledore remarked quietly. "If you accept, I will have the contract drawn up tonight and owled to you in the morning. You will start this fall."

"Excellent."

Both men rose from their seats at the same time, but neither extended a hand to shake. Steady eye contact was held, like two opponents squaring off before a duel. Voldemort was the first to turn away. Dumbledore watched his back as he retreated toward the door of his office, before finally stepping around his desk and stalking off after him.

"Why don't I escort you out?" he suggested, forcing the younger man to pause with a hand on the doorknob. He wasn't about to let him do anything in the halls just yet. No, he didn't have his ace on Voldemort's heels. For now, and most likely for always, the man couldn't be trusted.