The Nightmare: only you could have my whole soul.

Tom had loved her. Besides himself she had been the only person to matter. And there she lay in his arms, broken and bloody, a faint heartbeat receding. Tom had loved Jane and only now that he had lost her did her value to him become clear. There was silence within him. He could no longer hear the screaming voices, burning fires or explosions anymore. He could no longer hear the normal world about him sinking into complete chaos. He was swaying into an unforeseen fogginess. Images of Jane overtook his gray, soaking eyes: Jane in her black gown, Jane smiling in the golden field, Jane's beautiful face in the moonlight that glorious night. He could have convinced her to stay with him that night and none of this would have happened. She would have changed him, she would have saved him and in turn, he would have saved her. A fainter heartbeat, the enemy was on his footsteps.

He took a breath and looked down at his lifeless and only love. Her eyes were closed but she held herself tightly against the cold embrace of death. Pink lips barely parted…she was no longer breathing. He placed her softly on the ground amongst the wreckage of the blast and ran from that place. He ran so fast and so far he could no longer make out his surroundings. There, Tom Riddle apparated into nothing.

Alone again, he sat crooked on a velvet plush chair still covered in soot and blood. He was in his study but it was almost empty. They had done his bidding but Tom could not pull himself out of the chair. His heart was still racing and his mind could only repeat her last few moments over and over again.

Tom had run in after her. Clad in her white uniform Jane turned to him with tears in her vibrant blue eyes.

"Can't you see what you have become, Tom? A monster, an absolute evil! I have too much to live for, please, leave, and never come back,"

"You judge me based on what others have told you, Jane! This is unfair,"

"Life is unfair, Tom! Do you think these soldiers wished to die? Do you think these countries salivated at the chance to war with each other? No, Tom, life is unfair!"

"Stop calling me that,"

"You are not and will never be my lord, Tom,"

"Your insolence will get you nowhere, Jane!" he had bellowed as he grabbed her thin wrist and turned her to face him.

"And your madness will?"

Tom had been silent then. Even livid she was beautiful.

"Tom," her tone was softer, "nothing you offer will take me from here. I will never go back to that unnatural world. I belong here…I'm sorry."

"..What if I could stop this war?"

Jane had turned to him then with wide eyes filled with fear, "You are too bold,"

"I can, Jane, I can! I am the most powerful being in this universe! Nothing can stop me,"

"Love can," she had said as the sirens began to shriek louder in the distance, "…and love will destroy you."

Then there was light and silence. Tom gripped the velvet chair, his nails dug into it. Love had already destroyed him; the constant lack of it and now the sudden affair. It did not matter, he knew, none of it mattered. She was dead and he was truly alone. Selfish, he thought as he tried to raise himself off the chair, inconceivably selfish, how could she be so cruel? He had offered her power, peace and an eternity of happiness. How could anyone deny that? His strength failed him and he fell to the floor sobbing uncontrollably. Love was nothing but a consequence and a plague. Love had turned him into those he pitied most, the fools, and he would not have it! Jane had chosen her own fate now…he had to choose his. Tom stood up from his misery and apparated into an open field where his minions awaited him.

"Avada Kadabra!" he screamed and a soldier fell dead. The others awaited deathly quiet, "no mercy!" Tom screamed and the hordes of followers bellowed unintelligibly. Grunts of war filled the air and there was no peace, no power and no happiness.

"Ahh!" Lola awoke screaming into the bright morning. She fought to catch her breath. She opened her eyes to the familiar and soothing sight of her sandy room brightened by her opened, breezy window. It had been a dream. She breathed deeply and buried her face in her hands; she had been crying. She slowed her breathing and listened to the sounds of the house…it was quiet. He must have gone to work already. Yawning loudly Lola Harlow twisted out of her plush bed. It felt like a crime leaving such a comfy bed but the Californian morning was calling her. She brushed the dream from her mind as she stretched, donned some slippers and tended her teeth and face. What a strange dream it was. For three nights she had dreamt of this Tom fellow and his strange powers. First, a child in an orphanage using magic to terrify the other children, then a teenager in an old building roaming through castle-like hallways yearning for darkness, now, as a grown man, suffering over the loss of a lady named Jane.

She laughed out loud; she really needed to stop watching such scary movies. She was often prone to strange dreams of monsters and magic, and most of them always left her screaming and breathless. But this Tom fellow was different. He reminded her of someone but she could never place it and that was what truly scared her. As she reached the main floor of the beach house a familiar and comforting humming filled her ears as well as the smell of breakfast.

"Daddy," Lola said as her father turned to her with a slight smile on his face, "shouldn't you be at work?"

"I should, shouldn't I? Unfortunately that lateness gene runs in both of us, sit down and eat,"

He was a tall man of six feet with slim, kind eyes buried under prominent sand-colored eyebrows. A Greco-roman nose gave him a majestic appearance that not even Lola could find the courage to disobey him. He was a government official which was strange because his crisp British accent always seemed out of place in the American governmental buildings. A skinny mouth gave him his rugged, manly appearance but his sweet smile always presented him as the most wonderful and kindly of people. Gray eyes peered at each other.

"Lola?"

"Yeah, daddy,"

"You are up early,"

Lola sipped on her coffee, "clearly, daddy, I usually get up at this time, you know."

"I haven't seen you in the morning in over a year!"

"Daddy, you are late,"

"Oh right-o, well then," he kissed her on the forehead and started to put on his suit.

"You know, daddy, I had a weird dream,"

"What happened, darling?"

"I was this man-"

"Heavens not that Harry Potter dream again?"

"no, this time I was this man named Tom Riddle,"

"oh, and what did tom Riddle do? Was he a magician too?"

"Wizard, daddy, they are wizards."

"They aren't real, come help me with this tie, will you?"

Lola sighed and went to her father, "anyway, it was different this time, they were in our world and it was World War two. He was arguing with this Jane woman and a bomb went off killing her."

"Lola, you are almost eleven years old now, you know, don't you think you have had enough of these strange dreams?" she stood on a chair just to reach his height.

"I don't ask for them to happen…ever since I started taking that new medicine-"

"Well you will just have to tell Dr. Stanford next time you see her, darling. If that medicine is causing you to hallucinate like this-"

"They are just dreams, daddy, besides I have been getting so much better,"

He smiled, "I highly doubt that's proper English."

"eh, what would you know about proper English you lousy Brit?"

He laughed and brought her back down to the floor, "more than you, silly American. Now are your bags packed? You have an hour till Lydia comes to fetch you."

"Dad, I thought-"

"no, Lola, you are not using this dream as an excuse to get out of spending the weekend with your mother."

Lola sat back down on the breakfast table, defeated. Her father sighed and sat next to her, cradling her hand.

"Lola, it has been almost two years since you last saw her, "

"I don't like her, that's why, and she doesn't like me either,"

"She is your mother, Lola, she loves you, give her a chance,"

Lola looked into her father's grey eyes with her own matching pair, other than their eyes she was the exact same copy of her distant mother.

"He looked a lot like you, daddy,"

"who?"

"Tom Riddle,"

Her father was silent but he smiled and patted her head, "Please promise me you won't dwell on these silly dreams while you are away, my darling?"

"…they aren't silly; I know they mean something,"

"They mean you need to stop watching so many scary movies," Sebastian Harlow, her father, gave her a grand hug and kissed her on the forehead, "goodbye, Lolita, have a safe trip."

"Bye, daddy," as she watched her father leave into the beautiful and sunny Californian morning she sipped on her coffee. A strange sight for an eleven year old but besides coffee, her medicine and her father, much of everything else brought her to strange seizures were even the most sanest of people would be convinced she was possessed by a demon or something. They had moved all around the country until they found a doctor willing to give her the strange medicine that calmed her nerves. Illegal in most states, the elixir kept her body and mind in homeostasis which it could not do by itself. At least, that was what the doctors had told her. Ever since Lola had been small strange things had happened around her. Vases moved without apparent force, animals followed her without command or reason and even strangers often watched her and her father with widened stares. There was something peculiar about them that she never understood but it had driven her mother away seven years ago.

She pushed the negative thoughts aside and donned her wet suit. If she had only an hour left she would spent it in the ocean. The waves crashed lavishly on the tan beach that was illuminated by the vibrant sun. It was mornings like this that she lived for. The beach was empty and beautiful. She grabbed her surf board from the deck and paddled out into the warm water. A seasoned surfer Lola owned the waves around her. She turned back to the shore and her house looked like an ant to her. She was alone and free. The water was receding around her and she smiled, a big wave was coming. She turned back to the ocean and paddled towards it. Adrenaline filled her as she got closer and closer. Grey eyes lively, she took the wave. Riding it softly the speed and elevation was intoxicating. It was waves like this that came once in a while that made surfing so much fun! As she traveled through the vortex a shadow appeared before her eyes.

Clad in a black cloak a creature stood before her. Dry as stone, alabaster skin carried a snake monster. Slits for nostrils the creature's mouth twisted into something like a smile and it offered its arm to her. A voice resonated through her consciousness, "come," it commanded. She fell off her board into the wave. Twisting and turning, she fought her eyes open into the swirling water. She could see nothing but blue all around her. Her lungs were burning for air. She broke through the surface and breathed deeply. Turning her head from side to side she searched for the creature which she had seen for three nights now. She knew who it was. She knew it was the twisted end result of Tom Riddle. What was happening to her?

As she reached the shore she sat on the beach for some time, gathering her thoughts. Her board accompanied her in two pieces. Her dad was going to kill her for wrecking another board. She focused, was she hallucinating again? If so, her dad would never let her go to her mother's house. A sick joy filled her but she pushed it away. No, it was so real. She looked out at the ocean, searching the horizon with her grey eyes for a sign. A hand gripped her shoulder.

She screamed and turned to see her mother's maid, Lydia, glaring down at her.

"What is wrong with you, girl?"

Lola sighed and picked herself off the sandy beach, "you scared me,"

Lydia mumbled to herself and headed for the house without a second glance at Lola.

"Nice to see you too, you old bat," Lola grumbled as she picked up her board, it was curiously split neatly in two. She considered her choices: she could call her father, tell him about the hallucination and therefore save herself the awkward weekend, or she could avoid the drama and the trip to Dr. Stanford or as Lola often referred to her Dr. pill-happy and allow herself these strange nightmares for once. In her mother's home she could freely explore these deep, unconscious visions without her father's intervention. Lola had never cared for the dreams before; they always took her into a magical world where a gauche orphan boy fought against an evil wizard. But, these three nights had been different. These three nights she had dreamt of Tom Riddle, the enemy, the evil sorcerer not the boy wizard. These three nights she had been medicated but somehow the dreams had come through. These three nights were filled with tears and unexplainable restlessness. These were different. Something was happening to her and she wanted to figure it out on her own.

As she got to the house Lydia stood by the Rolls Royce with a dress in her wrinkly arms.

"Go inside and change into this, your bags have been packed,"

Lola silently followed the command and headed to her room. She hated dresses, she was still a small and skinny girl, and dresses always looked out of place and awkward on her. And this dress was a frilly nightmare. She swallowed her pride and slipped it on. She also donned her seashell bracelet her father had given to her when she turned ten. It was her favorite possession. One bag remained in her room; her personal bag. At least Lydia knew when personal space was allowed. She packed it with her journals and trinkets she adored.

Lola turned to the counter where her medicines sat harmlessly. She stared at them for a moment and then took her vitamins and put them in her medicine bottle. It was not dangerous, but it was a bit reckless. She took her vitamin bottle and filled it with her medicines. She would take both but only take the real medicine when necessary. That way, if her father came snooping around her room he wouldn't see the empty vitamin pack and come get her.

She did feel a bit guilty. He trusted her and he only wanted the best for her, but, for once, Lola wanted to know what was going on in her strange life and she had a feeling this was the first step to clarity. She got in the car and Lydia drove them away. It was a terribly silent trip but Lola had expected it. She just followed the images outside her tinted window and avoided eye contact with the maid. The heavenly Californian setting disappeared as the arid Arizona landscape took over. Arizona, she thought, so desolate and meaningless. Every time she left California the rest of the world, especially the nothingness closest to it, seemed so unfamiliar and useless. It was not that she feared such things but Lola was a girl of adventure and awe and where her mother lived, well, there weren't even children there. Tucked on a plateau somewhere rural, her mother's house was as cold and dull as the neighborhood it sat in.

Lola tried not to think of it. The more she thought about it the more she cringed at the inevitable. It was pointless to sit in misery when she had a mystery to focus on. She took out her green notebook and pen and began to scribble against the car sickness such tasks always brought her. She wrote down all she could remember about Tom Riddle.

A terrible wizard who scarred the magical world for decades as Lord Voldemort or he-who-must-not-be-named.

He had been an orphan attendant of the magical school Hogwarts.

He had once looked just like her father.