N/A: Well, I decided to finally start a story and it obviously is Tom/OC. The story starts in Harry's sixth year and will progress as such in several chapters. Have patience and you'll see what really happened with poor Tom before he became Lord Voldemort. I personally believe that anyone who never new the love of the family, would instinctively search for affection, even if he would carefully hide it from himself. So, the story of what could've been in the past if only someone would've broken through the thick walls Tom erected around himself.

Please, be patient and let me know what you think about it.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except a pair of my characters, sadly...

I-Know-Who killed me

Prologue

"And now," said Dumbledore, placing the stone basin upon the desk and emptying the contents of the bottle into it. "Now, at last. We shall see. Harry, quickly . . ." Harry bowed over the Pensieve and felt his feet leave the floor. . . .

… Once again he fell through darkness and landed in Slughorn's office. The professor held a small glass of wine in one hand, while rummaging in a box of crystallized pineapple with the other. There were the half dozen of boys and girls sitting around him, all the members of the so-called "The Slug Club", with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.

"Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?"

"Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you," said Slughorn, wag­ging his finger reprovingly at Riddle, though winking at the same time. "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are."

Riddle smiled, while the others laughed and cast him admiring looks, all, but one girl sitting to his right. For a moment Harry thought that she might roll her eyes at him, however the exquisite features of her face did not change and a small knowing charming smile still played on her lips.

"With your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter, I confidently expect you to rise to Minister of Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapple, I have ex­cellent contacts at the Ministry." Slughorn was pleased to no end by such urbane treatment from his favorite student. Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again.

"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing."

"Nonsense," said Slughorn briskly, "couldn't be plainer you come from decent Wizarding stock, abilities like yours. No, you'll go far, Tom, I've never been wrong about a student yet."

"I'm sure he would," the girl to Riddle's right said sweetly, though there wasn't any sign of adoration in her voice. Slughorn gave the girl a smile and Harry was sure that she was also top on his favorites' list.

"Of course, you yourself should think of the decent position, Miss Van Tassel. No doubt, with your talents and outstanding results at school, you'll succeed in any field you choose."

"Thank you, professor," the girl smiled even brighter and suddenly Harry felt a warm feeling rise in his chest. Whoever the girl was she certainly had a gift of making people feel comfortable and appreciated, that smile of hers seemed utterly sincere.

Suddenly the small golden clock standing upon Slughorn's desk chimed eleven o'clock and he looked around.

"Good gracious, is it that time already? You'd better all get going, or we'll be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay in by tomorrow or it's detention. Same goes for you, Avery."

One by one, the students filed out of the room. Slughorn heaved himself out of his armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk. Riddle however, stayed behind, deliberately dawdling, as if wanting to be last in the room with Slughorn. The girl, Van Tassel, as professor Slughorn called her, was the last to live. Just as she reached the door she stopped and there happened something that Harry could neither expect nor understand. In one graceful motion she turned around, her eyes meeting Tom's cold stare. It looked as some kind of non-verbal communication passed between the two. Then, to Harry's great surprise, Voldemort slowly shook his head, and the girl, who seemed to interpret the movement, shifted her gaze to Slughorn, who turned around to face them, and gave him the most amiable smile.

"Good night, professor! Good night, Tom." She called, her voice melodious and at the same time poised.

"Good night, charming Miss Van Tassel!" Slughorn answered with a large smile of his own. Tom merely nodded.

When she was almost gone, the girl looked back at Riddle and their eyes met again, though this time Voldemort only smirked…


…Harry was about to leave the headmaster's office, hundreds of thoughts whirling in his head, about Horcruxes and the Prophecy and all the possible ways to destroy Voldemort, when he remembered something he saw in Slughorn's memories. His curiosity was nagging him to ask Dumbledore about that particular thing that surprised him so much.

"Um, professor?" He started not very sure of how to approach the subject.

"Yes, Harry? Is there something you wanted to ask?" Dumbledore looked at him intently from behind his desk. Finally Harry decided it was better to spill everything out as it was.

"There, in the memory, the girl, she seemed to…well…she seemed to know Voldemort well…" Harry stopped abruptly. He was not sure, but for the moment it seemed that Dumbledore's face paled a bit, and the twinkles left his eyes.

"Harry, she was just a student, a prominent one, very talented, everyone loved her," it seemed Dumbledore was reluctant to say more then necessary. "Violet Van Tassel was a Ravenclaw, in Tom's year, they both were in Slughorn's club, that's all that I can tell you, Harry." Dumbledore finished with a deep sigh and smiled at the boy, before continuing cheerfully. "Well, I don't think you should bother yourself with small insignificant details now, when we need to concentrate on one thing – finding Horcruxes. Now, I kept you late already, go and get some rest."

Harry understood that the talk was over and left the office, wishing Dumbledore a good night. He, however, could not get rid of the feeling that there was much more to that girl than professor wanted him to know. Harry could swear that Dumbledore didn't want him to find out about her and that once again proved him that this Violet Van Tassel was somehow connected to Voldemort. She could've been one of the followers, probably a Death Eater, though the fact that she was a Ravenclaw confused him. He should try to find out about her. Harry didn't know why, but it seemed important. After tossing and turning in his bed for half an hour, Harry finally sank into sleep with blurring, agonizing dreams about Tom Riddle, the splitting of the soul and a girl of rare exquisite beauty with dark-violet eyes…