I need to quickly say a few things before you start reading.

First, this is rated M for a reason. There is sexual content and language, the latter will come later on.

Second, anyone who loves Harry, Hermione, and Ron and hates it when people portray them as mean people, please don't flame me. I'm not going to follow their personalities exactly as they are in the books, and every story needs a group of trouble makers.

Third, in future chapters my ranting will be at the bottom of the page instead of the top. This is because I find that people tend to skip my little rants, planning to read the chapter and come back to read them. So, to make it more convenient, I will put them at the bottom.

Fourth and lastly, I don't own anything. It all belongs to JK Rowling. Anything that I write in the future all belongs to her, not me.

Isn't it funny how easily your life can be ruined? Isn't it funny how after your life is so easily ruined, people care for about two days and then forget about it? Isn't it funny how they expect you to forget too? Isn't it funny how it turns out you can't forget the fact that you almost got killed by a book?

Well, for me, it's not that funny.

Everyday I walk through the halls with fake enthusiasm, talk with fake excitement, smile with fake happiness, and do everything with a dash of fake. I wait and wait and wait for someone to notice. I'm still waiting.

I lie awake in my bed, listening to the ghoul bang the pipes. It annoys my brothers a lot, but for me it's soothing. It provides a distraction from my thoughts. I roll on my side and sigh. My thoughts. My thoughts are dark and tainted. My words are twisted. My heart is wrecked. My soul is scarred.

And a simple diary did this to me. A diary, a Horcrux, a piece of Voldemort, whatever you want to call it.

I sit up and quickly wipe away my tears. I have to stop thinking about the diary and the Chamber. It's my weakness, and I hate weaknesses. I turn on my lamp and put my head in my hands. Why me? Why has this happened to me?

"Just a few more hours," I say to myself quietly. "Just a few more hours, and you can get out of here."

'Here' is the Burrow. My family calls it home, but it isn't home for me. Home isn't a place where everyone looks at you in pity, treats you like an abused puppy, or feeds you endless lies about the world around you. No, I don't have a home.

Tomorrow, or today I guess since it is about four in the morning, I am going back to Hogwarts for my seventh year. All of the seventh years from last year have been offered a chance to go back to Hogwarts for an eighth year to make up for the poor education they received last year. Most have accepted, including my brother Ron and the rest of the trio. Much to my annoyance.

My bedroom door flies open, and I raise an eyebrow at my youngest brother who has just burst in dramatically. "What do you want?" I ask rather rudely. At least I have an excuse; it's early morning, and that's irritable time.

"I want to know why you're up at this time," Ron retorts, narrowing his eyes. "I know you haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately, if any. Why are you awake?"

"I could ask you the same think," I say slyly. He snorts and waves away my question. "And why I'm up so early is none of your business."

"It's completely my business! Your my baby sister!"

"Baby? I'm a year younger than you, Ronald! You can stop treating me like a child!"

"But you are a child!" At that I huff and stand up. As I walk towards him slowly, Ron crosses his arms over his chest in a way that I guess is supposed to be threatening. But his flitting eyes reveal how nervous he is. Nervous, ha! He has no idea what I'm capable of.

"I. Am. Not. A. Child!" I hiss and push him out the door, slamming it shut. I use my wand to lock the door and block any unlocking spells - to say I am glad that I'm finally 17, and of age, is an understatement.

I climb back in bed, but I have no intention of going to sleep. Ron is right about that, I haven't gotten any sleep for months. But for some reason, I never get tired. Grouchy, maybe, but that has nothing to do with my lack of sleep.

I realize that I am once again feeling lonely. For the past six years, since my first year at Hogwarts, I have ostracized myself from everyone around me. I still have 'friends', also known as the Golden Trio, that think that they are my best friends in the whole world even though they exclude me and pity me. Pity me for being a victim of Tom Riddle. Harry has been even more of a target, but everyone is too busy worshiping the ground he walks on to even think about feeling sorry for him. Go figure.

Anyways, I feel lonely, so I close my eyes and let my soul wander free from my body. I learned to do this, separate my body and my soul, a few years ago. Doing this allows my soul to explore my mind and whatever has tainted it. More specifically, explore Tom.

No one, save me, knows that every Tom's diary controlled me, it left a bit of itself in my mind. My mind is violated, but not in a bad way. In a comforting, unique way. And no one, save me, knows that Tom is still alive. Inside of me.

I soar through my brain, weaving through thoughts and emotions and memories, until I find what I'm looking for. The part of my mind that is black and soiled and dark. I enter the darkness quickly. At first, I had to enter slowly, but I've gotten a lot better and faster over the years.

Welcome back, a dark voice says. A figure emerges from the gloom, a teenager with pale skin and dark hair and wicked eyes. Tom Marvolo Riddle. It's been a while.

"It's been hectic," I respond, my soul taking on a human shape. Tom smiles and puts a hand on my cheek.

Indeed it has. You are returning to Hogwarts soon, are you not? His hand is replaced by his lips. I sigh softly.

"I am," I say quietly. "I'm not as excited as I should be, but it's better than where I am now."

Yes. The war has changed the world greatly.

"And my family," I agree. "And everyone. You and I have changed significantly as well."

Of course. I regret my previous actions, as you already know. I wish I had a body so I could take back all that I have done, ten-fold. Tom gently kisses his way down to my neck, where he sucks the skin tenderly. I let out a low moan and tilt my head so he has better access.

"I wish you had a body too," I breathe. "But for different reasons."

My, my, you've really grown up, haven't you? He takes my skin between his teeth and bites down, hard. I cry out, pleasure overcoming pain quickly. Ginevra.

I can only nod as his hand cups the other side of my neck and slowly moves down.

Ginevra? His hand finds my left breast and kneads it. Another moan escapes my mouth as he squeezes me.

"Yes?" I answer shakily. The good things about doing this without a real body is that no blood is pumping too quickly and no heart is thumping so loud that it can be heard. But pleasure remains.

Stay with me, love. His other hand finds the space between my legs and I gasp softly as his hand slips under my skirt and rubs me outside of my underwear.

"Forever."

Time for my joyful rants. This chapter is more like a prologue, it's very short. My future chapters will be much longer. I really like the way this has turned out, it will play along nicely with what I have planned for the future.

Yes, you and your incredible prologues. It's really quite amazing, just like me.

Oh, don't mind him. That's just the little voice in my mind that always talks at unreasonable times, also known as Tom Riddle.

Pleased to meet you.

So anyways, I plan to make this story dark, just as a warning. Not nighttime dark, but just not full of ponies and rainbows and hair ribbons.

Oh, but I do love those precious hair ribbons.

I don't have this story planned out that much yet, and what I do have planned isn't set in stone. So I am as open as a book to any ideas.

That's not a good comparison. Books can be closed.

Not this one, not now. So R&R, I really want some feedback on how you like the beginning of the story. Au revoir!

Hasta la vista!