The Ring

Disclaimer:  I do not own 'Harry Potter', and I sadly never will.  :'(  News:  Rumors of the Book 6 title, is that it's called 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince'.  I don't think it's true but if it is, I'll eat my words bitterly.  But, I don't think 'Harry Potter' is the type of book to have a Prince. rolls eyes

A/N:  Second chapter, yay!  I know this hasn't been reviewed at all. sob (C'mon, is it that bad?)  But, this story is just for my own personal amusement and to improve my writing skills.  This chapter is longer than the last one a bit.  Roughly around the 2000s, and as time progresses into the next, they'll be longer.

Note:  I admit it, the first part of this chapter was actually for a different story I was writing at first, but after a few tweaks, it changed into the next chapter of 'The Ring'.  So, don't think I'm gonna update this often.  (grumbles If anyone actually likes this story.) R/R please!  With Draco on top?  (Or for guys, you can have Ginny on top! wink-wink)

(Wake me up)

Wake me up inside

(I can't wake up)

Wake me up inside

(Save me)

Call my name and save me from the Dark

(Wake me up)

Bid my blood to run

(I can't wake up)

Before I come undone

(Save me)

So save me from the nothing I've become

 - Bring Me To Life, Evanescence

-CHAPTER TWO-

Tom Riddle's 'Resurrection' (Part One)

It was a surprisingly warm summer's night, even for the summer.  It was rather hot and humid, though the horrible Orphanage Mistresses tried to make it the coldest they could in this particular room.  Not that it had mattered anymore of course.  For the boy who lived in this certain lonely dorm barely felt anything anymore.  Least likely was that he felt the cold dampness here in this dump.

Deep, cold, gray eyes peered through the pitch-black darkness.  Occasionally, they swirled into a bloodthirsty mixture of crimson blood and its normal glaring gray.

Who had they belonged to?  Tom Marvolo Riddle of course.  Or little 'T. Jr.' as his old 'chums' who had long left the Orphanage had used to call him.  Not so little anymore, now is he?  No, from his old, weak, little starved body, was replaced with strong hands (used particularly for torture) and a very muscular torso.  He still had those cold murderous eyes, which he would have forever.  Until his death.

At least, if he died.  His one true quest he was deeply searching for – which you all must know by now - was and still is the path to Immortality.  And he would not sleep until he was safely assured he had reached that goal.

But he also had another thing on his mind.  The Chamber of Secrets incident.  Sure, he'd managed to kill that annoying wench Myrtle, but his mind was mainly focused on the journal in which he had implanted a 'memory' of his 16-year-old self.

A/N:  The 'memory' part has a reason it's in italics.  This is OC, so it's not real in the books, if you're a thick retard who doesn't know that.  Please (not) excuse me if I'm offending you, 'cos I am a Slytherin, myself.

He had told the girl who had written in it 50 years later that he was a memory implanted in it, when actually it had a special effect.  While he was writing in this timeline, 1941, where the journal (the girl called it a diary since, well, she was a girl) was about 50 years was being written in, the words from the future and past exchanged and were able to form a portal once a bond made was strong enough.

And one innocent – ha, not anymore - little redhead by the name of Ginevra Weasley, had written in it.  She was known as Ginny to friends, family, and people who weren't enemies or rivaled against her enough to call her 'just another Weasley',or didn't know her full name.

Ginevra Molly Weasley.

She would've become Ginevra Voldemort, if their plan hadn't failed.

She would've become the next Dark Empress, ruling by his side.  Age didn't matter to them anymore.  She'd grow out of it into a blossoming 16-year old, like him, once he got to the immortality point he would resolve.  All this would've happened if a certain Scarhead didn't have to ruin it all!

Tom had come up with another of his ingenious plans with his fair lady, Ginevra.  He would supposedly 'force' her to write those messages on the corridor walls in (their dear Basilisk's) blood, and make up the whole thing about the 'Dear Tom' messages that corresponded.  Ginevra would come of her free will, not that they knew of, and pretend to lie there barely lifeless.  And that was partly true.  She was becoming drained of her life force, but as soon as he had Potter out of the way, he'd use his life force to resurrect his Ginevra.

But he had to become so bloody damn stupid to overlook the Phoenix tears accident.  Damn him, damn Potter, and DAMN THE BLOODY KARMA AND ALL.

They also had a backup plan incase something went wrong.  Of course, they'd been half-serious and joking around if their brilliant plan hadn't gone so wrong.  Ginevra would act like normal, pretending to still have that STUPID little crush on the Potter boy, until he, Tom, somehow came up with a way to release himself from his bloody confines.

They also had a thing in common with their names.  Tom had taken his first name after his (foolish, idiotic, filthy mudblood) father, and Marvolo after his grandfather.  She'd taken Ginevra after one of her rare old female ancestors her family either forgot about; as to they never talked about Ginevra I.  Molly was taken, of course, after her mother.

He'd never call her by her nickname.  He said it was too childish, and she thought so, too.  Anything that went with him, was ok with her, too.  She sometimes had her own opinions that were surprisingly deep with intelligence, and half the time Tom waved them off saying she didn't know 'what the Hell' she was talking about.  The other half was shared by being fairly amused, and pride glistened in his dark swirling eyes, that he approved and made her glow with glee inside that she'd pleased him.

She'd never show it though.  She'd been taught well by him on how to act and seduce people to do their bidding.  If it was one thing she knew he hated, was that Tom loathed genuine happiness.  If it was a dark type of humor: like his dream of killing Scarhead, he greatly would've approved with no doubt about it.

Her parents, friends, old-time-crushes; everyone who knew about the incident had thought and still think that he was a memory and the fact that she hated him.  Completely.

Well, that was half – true; she had hated him with the might a thousand suns.  And lusted – perhaps possibly loved (he quickly shoved that thought away)– for him.  Lust was all that kept her going with the reminder that she had a demented 16-year old 'memory' of a boy and his thoughts stuck in her head.

Sure, for an 11-year old girl, she had even amazed him.  The Great Lord Voldemort, by her actions.  In sex.  She was exceptionally skilled for her age and size.  Yes, he had rather mind blowing organisms by the hands and tongue of the blood-red-headed vixen.

Perhaps one of her biggest secrets, he had fortunately chosen not to tell Potter while in the Chamber of the future, was about puberty.  Yes, at a young age – 9 to be exact – she had gone through puberty.  And everyone knows when this happens, the person going through it may start to think about things in a new light.  Things like …  well, you know what I mean.

She began masturbating when she was 10, and discovered the great delights and thrills of rubbing … there.  Tom had been completely oblivious (for once in his life) about how naughty she had been at such a young age.

When he had first been told of this well-kept secret, he had been shocked.  Even more amazed when she actually asked at one of their other 'visits' if he'd touch her there.

My, my, looks like she's not as innocent as she looks and seems.

As time progressed, they had become more intimate with each other.  She had a fairly big bust for an 11-year old, which she had hidden well under her baggy old hand-me-downs, and a very tight training bra.  No pink; always the essential black, white and red, preferably crimson.  And some of his favorite colors, of course; the great emerald-green, and shining silver.  Slytherin colors.

He remembered how much she turned him on with her devious eyes and sly smirks.  He had been very hard down there.  Especially when she started to moan and whimper that certain way she knew turned him on, as he did very inappropriate things to do with an 11-year old.

He'd been mildly amused when he saw her semi-full grown curls.  Dark, curly, and arousing.  He'd learnt about growth of pubic hair around the genital area would progress through few years to about this standard, but it's not everyday you find out an 11-year old has progressed this far in the menstrual state.

He wondered if she had started PMS yet … time would've quickened its pace in her time of the future by now.  So he guessed she had gone far beyond the young age of 11maybe. 

Maybe to around my age.   I wonder how she looks now.  Damn. Ssssss….

A/N:  Hint-hint - He's looking down at between his legs.  He's very uncomfortable there now.

But she'd still have the same cowering look around him, when he started to frighten and pleasure her at the same time.  She was half in living Hell, and partly in mind-blowing bliss.

Oh, how he loved how she whimpered and moaned everytime he touched her.  Her breasts were not fully developed of course.  But they certainly would fit a size 'A' bra far from it, they were rather large for such a young girl of her age, and he loved to tease her there.  Swirling his tongue expertly over her hard buds, turned into one of his favorite past-times as he crossed over the gap in time warping over in a rapid succession over to her time.  Hah, he really was a genius, inventing a way to cross over the Warp of Time and Space into the future. 

He'd fixed the diary in his time quite easily so it could be ready to talk to in the future timeline.  Unfortunately, it was plain screwed up in the future. Now, if he could just somehow fix the diary in the future.

Lucius was having a very off-day.  He'd lost yet another house-elf, his son was ignoring him, and Narcissa was off pampering her face, again.  As vain as she was, she was also very beautiful without all the make-up.  He'd told her this, countless of times, but she'd never listen to him.

Besides the word 'off-day' to describe this day, was boring.  He was bored, and for the past half-hour, he'd been doing nothing important or pleasing.  He decided a few hours ago to go whoring again with his sister-in-law's friend Jenna.  His wife didn't give a damn what he did with other women, and Lucius didn't care either when he heard his wife screaming in ecstasy without being in close contact with him. Sex was sex, and pure wanton lust was all that kept them going.  Love was too complicated, too noble and was a trait of the 'Light' side.

Jenna was a very spoiled and wicked slut.  She liked to go rough, as did he.  But today, for the first time, he thought their 3 ½ hours of lovemaking was boring.  He'd come to a few dozen times, and he still wasn't satisfied.  He s'posed he was in another one of his 'insatiable' moods, as Bella[trix] had called it.

'I've been a few of those moods, too.  Never satisfied with even the rawest feelings of pleasure.'

With nothing to do, his mind somehow wondered to the Chamber of Secrets year; and how Potter had defeated the great Dark Lord once again.  Except this time, he couldn't exactly be called the 'Dark Lord', as it was just a 'memory'.

A/N:  Lucius knows about the time warp thingy.

Tom Marvolo Riddle had been their great leader all the way from the beginning, though.  Dashing and very popular with the ladies, he'd been a powerful person to look up to if you were on the Dark side.

Sighing in boredom, he took out Tom Riddle's journal that Potter foolishly had given back in an (unfortunately successful) attempt to free his old house-elf … what was its name again?  Dubby?  Dobby?  Oh well, why should he care about the name of his old house-elf?  Maybe he really was going mental.

He quickly composed himself formally at this thought.  Him, the Dark Lord's right-hand man, going mental?  Maybe in a metaphoric way, but never literally.  That was utterly stupid to think!

He suddenly winced as he heard a small clunk!  Lucius looked down and saw his favorite prize golden long-ink-lasting quill had fell down onto the floor and ink was all over the floor.  So that was what he'd been doing with it for the past half-hour; trying to balance the stupid thing on his nose.  He frowned and decided to get one of the servants to clean it up later when it had dried.  More work for them.

Now to the matter at hand.

He carefully fingered the large hole in the leather-bound book, whispering spells and incantations waving his wand, to no accomplishment.  With nothing to do, and pure determination that was quickly extinguishing his boredom to fix it, he carefully began to plan out how he was going to fix this thing.

A/N:  Well, that was my first try into the mind of Tom Riddle and Lucius.  How was it?  If you don't review, that's your problem but PLEASE  R/R please!

 - Death Immortalitis