To say the least, you were back writing your little romance stories, no matter how awkward and weird it felt knowing that Tom could read them. However, you did tone down the smut significantly, not feeling comfortable writing that sort of thing in front of him. Tom of course commented on it, like a total jerk he was.

"Feeling a little shy around me? I must say I'm a bit flattered." You groaned at his tone of voice but it brought a smile to your face nonetheless.

"I just don't feel like going too much into detail," you replied stubbornly.

"You are such a bad liar," you blushed at his words. It was hard to hide things from Tom. He always seemed to know everything.

You were of course confused as to how he knew things about you. Was he a stalker or something? Just the thought of it sent excited yet nervous chills down your body. Unlike other girls, you didn't think stalking was that bad. You thought it was kind of cute, especially when a guy was too shy to come and talk to you. But Tom was not shy at all. If anything he was too confident for his own good, smug even, like a total pure-blooded Slytherin. So you needed to be careful walking around the hallways. Who knows? Maybe Tom was a molestor or something like that.

You finally decided to find out who Tom really was. However, no one seemed to know anyone by the name of Tom Riddle. You were clueless until you went to the library, searching for his name. Surprisingly, he was in Hogwarts: A History under one of the best students of his decade. You frowned as you looked at the year. He graduated in 1945. What the hell was going on?

You groaned as you realized that someone was using his name to mess with you. Of course, it must be some jerk face pulling a prank. You felt a bit used and decided to confront Tom, or whoever it was, that day.

"I know your name isn't Tom Marvolo Riddle," you wasted no time as you wrote in the diary.

"Yes, it is," came a cocky reply. You growled as you dipped your quill in ink in a hurry.

"If you are Tom Marvolo Riddle, then you're sixty-six years old," you wrote smugly. For a while, Tom didn't reply.

"On the contrary, I'm only sixteen years old. I'm a memory of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle living in 1944." The answer made you frown. It was hard to believe that a mere memory was able to interact with you, despite the journal being magical. You shook your head at his statement. There was no way in hell a memory could intelligently interact with people. Tom was lying to you.

"Do you think I'm stupid? A memory can't interact with people. It's impossible for a memory to hold an intelligent conversation with someone," you wrote quickly.

Tom gritted his teeth as you saw straight through his lie. You weren't as dumb as Ginny, and it was obvious that the same explanation wasn't going to work on you. He needed to think of something else and fast.

"I didn't want to reveal this secret to anyone. It's my own invention and it might change the world if it got into the wrong hands. If you really want to know, you have to promise not to tell a soul."

"I promise," you wrote, excited to hear the explanation.

"My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. I am sixteen years old and I'm attending Hogwarts right now. The year is 1944 and I'm currently sitting at my desk. I have charmed my journal so that I would be able to speak with anyone but myself, regardless of the time difference." You blinked at his words. No...Way…

"So, you're able to communicate with people from the future through this journal?" This was science-fiction stuff and you couldn't help but get excited. Tom must be a genius to invent something like that. No wonder he got all those awards for best Hogwarts student.

"Precisely. You have to be careful what you tell me about the future though. You don't want the universe to implode on itself, do you?" Tom smirked as you fell for his trap. He had to admit, it was improbable but not impossible. Maybe the thought of a time-travel lover would blind your logic.

"No, of course not," you replied hurriedly. Now, this made sense. You have never before heard of anyone being able to communicate with people from the past. It was a bit dangerous talking to Tom. You just had to be careful not to reveal anything important, like what ended the WWII.

"Is it weird talking to a future girl like me?"

"A bit. You do use rather strange words to describe certain things, especially in your stories." You blushed deep red as you realized that those kind of stories were not at all appropriate in the 1940's. In fact, they were taboo. You decided not to mention them ever again. Plus, he wasn't able to blackmail you anymore. He probably threatened you in the first place to get you to continue to write them. That twisted pervert. You decided to forget all about those stories and continue talking to Tom.

Tom was more than pleased with your acceptance of his lie. You seemed more than excited to talk about the idea of time traveling, revealing all sorts of theories you knew and researched in the library. Some of them Tom was not familiar with since they appeared after his time, so he listened intently, enjoying the knowledge you were feeding him. He did not want to admit it to himself, but he looked forward talking to you after classes and your studies. You were much more interesting than Ginny, and you actually could keep up with him intellectually… well, somewhat.

Realizing that his main source of energy (your stories) was gone, he had decided to use a much more entertaining alternative. Though you had great potential in learning occlumency, your mind was untrained and he could easily slip in when you slept. Tom smirked to himself as he entered your mind. You weren't suspecting a thing, of course, so it was rather easy to manipulate your dreams.

Your surroundings quickly turned into a Slytherin common room, the way Tom had remembered it. You looked around, not recognizing the place, lost in details of the dream. Your eyes finally landed on a handsome young man with dark wavy hair and piercing brown eyes. He smirked as he set comfortably on the Slytherin couch, simply watching you. You felt a blush upon your cheeks instantly, brushing your hair behind your ear shyly. Who was this guy? You're sure you've never met him before. Otherwise, you would have remembered him.

"Are you here to see someone? I'm quite sure you're not from this house," he spoke with a smooth voice that made you shudder. You looked around, realizing that indeed you were in the Slytherin dungeon all alone with him. You looked down at yourself, noticing your regular school uniform, but your skirt was much shorter for some reason. You squeaked trying to pull it down to hide your legs but it wasn't working. You were more than embarrassed by this predicament. You didn't want to send the wrong message to whoever this was.

You looked up as you heard a dark amused chuckle. The young man in front of you was openly eyeing your thighs, his smirk wider than before.

"My, my. What have you done with your uniform? How indecent of you, _." You were confused as to how he knew your name. You were sure you haven't met him before, but he was talking to you like you were on the familiar terms with him. "I could take off points, you know, being a Head Boy and all that," he looked at his nails and then at you, his piercing brown eyes penetrating your very soul. Your eyes drifted to his cloak, noticing the Head Boy badge on top of his breast. You took a step back as he suddenly stood up and advanced towards you.

"I believe it's fifty points for public indecency. You're welcome to change my mind, though," your eyes widened as his hand glided against your waist in a suggestive way. You blushed red and pushed him away.

"Don't touch me. I don't even know you!" you spoke, frustration and embarrassment written all over your face. Your hand slipped inside the pocket of your cloak but you couldn't find your wand anywhere.

Tom took a step back with an obnoxious smirk on his face.

"Looking for this?" The guy spoke standing there with your wand in his hand. "Tch-tch-tch," he shook his head at you. "I believe hexing a Head Boy is against the rules. Now be a good girl and sit next to me." You were blushing profusely as he set down once again on the couch, looking at you expectantly. Was this a dream? Everything seemed so real. And his attitude. There was something familiar about it.

Tom frowned as you didn't move.

"I said, come...here," his voice suddenly darkened and the smirk was gone from his face. With a wave of his wand, your body was harshly tugged towards him. You couldn't help but let out a small startled squeak as you landed onto his lap. Your body began to tremble as one of his hands started to rub your thigh. "Do not disobey me, _" he suddenly spoke into your ear, making you shudder. What's going on? Why is this happening? His voice was so dark and sinister, so threatening and yet captivating, you had no strength to defy him. You could sense his magic surround you, so dark and inviting, so powerful and thrilling. You wanted to say no to his sneaky hands, but you were too afraid to upset him.

"N-no," your voice was too weak as his long fingers danced against the skin of your exposed thigh. Your hand landed on top of his to stop him from advancing any further. "I'm not that type of girl!" you yelped out as he suddenly cupped your groin, smirk written all over his face. In your embarrassment you began to struggle in his hold, but he pushed you against the couch, restraining your wrists easily. He was smugly looking down at you, sick enjoyment clearly written all over his face.

"Maybe you are, but you don't know it yet."

Tom was very much enjoying himself. He knew that she was fond of this sort of treatment. He knew that her lady parts were already aching for him to continue, but he was a patient man. He took pleasure in the way she denied him and her own true desires just to preserve her innocence and dignity. But Tom knew deep down this was exactly what she wanted in a man: a dark, possessive, dominant lover. Heh, it was almost pathetic.

You suddenly woke up covered with sweat. What just happened? Where were you? You sighed as you realized that it was only a dream...a very real dream. It felt as real as your dream about Sir William. You grabbed your head as you felt throbbing pain in your skull. Ugh, something wasn't right. Were you getting sick? You decided to eventually go back to bed and sleep it off.

Tom groaned as you managed to push him away from your mind again. Though he was getting much stronger, your were still powerful enough to push his presence from your dream even if you weren't aware of it. He underestimated your power and that's what made him so drawn to you. You had potential but you just didn't know it. Maybe if he trained you to be worthy of him, he'd consider sparing your life. Maybe.

His little experiment was proving to be quite successful. It seemed that you enjoyed his true dark nature very much, even if you weren't ready to admit it to yourself just yet. He could use someone like you when he gets out of this damn journal. You could become a worthy companion, that is if you would follow his training correctly. Tom licked his lips as he imagined you dwelling in dark arts, your innocence replaced by his dark influence, and your dignity gone under his strong sweaty body. Tom couldn't wait to shape you into a young woman worthy of him, into a young woman he wanted all his life. Maybe it was the loneliness of the journal or maybe he was losing his touch, but Tom wanted more and more of you every second.

You shifted in your sleep. completely unaware of the sinister plan forming inside Tom's mind.