Tom's Flashback
Tom, or rather Voldemort, could easily remember the day he met the Lady of the Dark. He had just gotten off the Hogwarts Express when a lady materialized out of nowhere beside him. She went into the shadows and beckoned him forth. Tom followed her, slightly wary, but not too. She gave off an intimidating feeling, but he still felt somewhat safe in her presence. He murmured, "Tom Marvelo Riddle. What is your name?" He looked at her and quickly realized she was different from everybody else. Her skin was as pale as the moon, her limbs slender like willow branches, piercing red eyes, and long midnight black hair, cascading behind her. She tilted her head upward in thought,
"I suppose you could call me the Lady of the Dark, or simply My Lady to make it short. I have never truly had a name." She gazed back at him, "Tom, I am very old. And over the centuries, about twice each century, I have seen many witches and wizards with great potential. Almost every time I have felt a certain affinity towards them. A need to teach them, guide them, and perhaps even protect them. You, my boy, have great potential to become a great, and feared, wizard. What is strange though, is I have no affinity towards you. Regardless I can teach you more. You can accept my offer and become my son of sorts, my apprentice, or deny it and continue on your path." Tom stared at her. A strange woman indeed. But she radiated power, something that he desperately craved, wanted. But he knew he could not feed off her power, no he would have to create his own. He asked,
"I assume there is a catch, My Lady?" She cocked her head thoughtfully before nodding,
"I'm afraid so. Before there was never a need for a cost, I simply felt the need to help them. Without this however, I'm afraid you will have to pay me. I believe I would accept your body, for every ten lessons. Mind you, this is not something to be taken lightly, young one." Tom considered feeling insulted, but also felt that it would be useless. He was also slightly horrified. The cost of the Lady teaching him was her, taking advantage of his body? His body was sacred, he was acknowledge that much. And besides, he was not obliged to be her apprentice. He murmured,
"I am afraid I will have to decline your offer, my lady. I am not interesting in selling my body for you teaching me." She nodded understanding,
"Very well then. I can accept that. Perhaps I will see you again, Tom Riddle." As if she knew some secret about him that he did not know. He left towards the school and the woman began thinking. No matter what he chose, the outcome was always the same. He would turn into Lord Voldemort, one of the most feared wizards ever. And for that, she felt proud of him. Perhaps she had no affinity for him, but that did not mean she would not watch him. She was hardly concerned about him turning her down. It occurred once in a while, and often regardless, the child would come back or still become a great witch or wizard. Like Grindlewald. He didn't turn out too bad. Unfortunately her other pupil, Dumbledore, defeated him.
She left with a swish of her black cape, not once leaving a trace that she the Dark Lady or Lady of the Dark, had been there.