A/N: This is one of my first ever actual stabs at poetry. But I had to write it-- it was keeping me awake by replaying its words behind my eyes. Enjoy! Feedback very appreciated!

His eyes, so full of danger
I should've known right away that he was no good
Danger, danger so full of appeal and and lacking in flaws
That suited me just fine.

The first time he actually acknowledged my existence was like the first time a boy kissed me, the first time a boy had me, the first time I heard the utterence of "I love you"
Fire works went off and sirens rang out everywhere when he flashed that blinding smile.
But the sirens and fireworks could have also been caused by the wall that his smile had also enchanted
Jealous of me, it tripped me, made me fall, but in the end only corrupted its cause
(he took me to the hospital wing just in spite of that wicked wall).

Riddle. Even the name speaks of mysteries and stories untold.
There was depth to him
A certain level of intelligence that at times surpassed the teachers
I wished for that knowledge, that ripe fruit that spurned so many admirers.

I was in my sixth year when he finally had his way with me;
or my way with him depending on how you look at it.
I had spent so many nights preparing for this moment, sleeping with a kid whose name I don't even remember
Sure it was magical, but it could've never compared to Riddle
No one compares to him, not even God.

He was a seventh year, head boy, trusted by so many that this wouldn't ever happen
Dippet put too much trust in him to not take advantage of his power.
His body was smooth, his member perfect
It hurt like Hell, but it was so worth it.

Until he was done.
Then there was pain not even fixed by a simple incantation.
Nothing could make the hurt of being completely ignored the next day go away.
So I went back to practicing, pretending that nothing had happened just like he was.

But nobody just turns their back on Tom Riddle.
I can still remember when he caught us, the pain that rippled through me.
This man-child, this being of complete beauty and perfection, was no stranger to the Cruciatus.
He made us make love while administering it to both of us.
Still haunted by the deranged look in his eyes, I haven't had sex since then.

Danger. I should've known.
He had his experiments. I should've guessed.
He was so feared. I should've payed attention.
But now I know. Now we all know.