Now onto chapter three. There will be a little more explanation about the events in this chapter in an author's note at the end.
The rain was bucketing brutally down onto their heads as Voldemort ran through the rain to his doorstep not even bothering to stop and cast an Imperturbable Charm in case the pause would cause them to become even wetter.
Wrenching open the door open, he darted inside pulling the attractive blonde woman with him.
"That came on quicker than I would have thought," he said, his voice a little breathless as he turned to the woman beside him. The perfect updo she had arranged her platinum blonde hair into was laying flat and oddly squashed from the rain, her pointed face had rivers of water still catering down her well crafted cheekbones and her fine lace dress was soaked leaving it sticking tightly to the curves he had only ever seen hint of in the past.
"It did," she agreed softly only half interested as her hands swept frantically to her messy hair and her wet dress.
"Now come upstairs you must be freezing," he suggested, squeezing her hand as he nodded up the dingy staircase. After months of work, he had finally made her agree to accompany him back to his flat, but the water seemed to have sapped her resolve. Leaning forward, he kissed her gently on the cheek. Obviously he would need a reason that seemed proper. "Just to freshen up. I cannot have you going home like that. You could catch a cold."
"Of course."
Like he knew it would be, it seemed to be enough to convince her as he led her to his flat upstairs. Turning the simple brass key, he stepped inside and lit the lanterns on the wall revealing the room; it was small and slightly dark and dingy with an old assortment of furniture and only a small combined sitting room and kitchen with two doors leading to a bathroom and bedroom. He was deserving of more, but his small salary at Borgin and Burkes only presented him with limited means. Still it was better than being in that filthy orphanage. At the very least, this place was meticulously clean and he tried to improve everything he could with transfiguration and charms. Besides, it would only be for a while. Greatness and more appropriate accommodation would, in time, be his when the world knew him as Lord Voldemort.
"It is hardly appropriate for a Malfoy," he said in reference to room, "but I hope you will forgive me."
"Don't be like that Tom," she scolded, slightly in better spirits now she was in a place where she could be comfortable. He noticed her eyes flicked briefly to the room before her grey eyes focused on him. No matter what she said, he knew the lack of luxury would be a problem with her as it was for the entirety of the Upper Class. The trick was to distract her from the room. "I know where you work. I met you at Borgin and Burkes, remember? I know you do not have much now, but I know you Tom. I know you will be destined for greatness."
She was right. They had met at Borgin and Burkes. She had entered with her brother Abraxas Malfoy who was five years older than Voldemort. Borgin had rushed to serve him and Voldemort had been left to entertain his very pretty twenty one year old sister who he had only occasionally conversed with at Hogwarts.
The age had not mattered.
Noticing her good looks and impeccable family name, he had been charming and polite so, when her brother called for her to leave, she was more than a little reluctant. A few days later, she had returned. Then it was simpler and he had courted her with several dinners, dozens of false words in letters and several stolen kisses until he was at this point.
Her words had triggered something in him. Turning from the flat to face her, his hands cupped her jaw as he kissed her with breathtaking passion.
Greatness was what he sought and greatness would be what he achieved. He was not destined for poor muggles, but rich and pureblood women.
He could feel how wet she still was as his hands slid from her face down the side of her body. She shuddered. He suspected it was not from the cold as he pinned her against the door.
"Tom," she moaned softly against his lips as he trailed his mouth down to her elegant neck. He ignored the use of the hated name as he peppered her throat with kisses.
"Anesia," he murmured in between kisses, repeating her name for her sake as he slid his hands to cup her breasts that he had been eyeing for months, but had controlled himself to have avoided them in the past. "My beautiful, beautiful, Anesia."
Either his compliments or his actions were convincing as she did not complain. She only spoke as his hands slid lower.
"Tom," she protested softly as he halted, his hand resting on her lower stomach. "I'm not that type of woman."
"I know," he agreed, moving his lips to tenderly kiss her again. "You are one of the most beautiful, intelligent, graceful and proper young ladies I have ever encountered. You could never be faulted, but that is why I want this. Because you are special and amazing and I want this to mean something."
Her grey eyes were wide and bright as he held her close. Tom assumed he had said all the right things and she would not refuse, yet there was still an aspect of doubt as he waited for an answer. When it came it was not verbal.
Seizing the back of his head, she slammed her lips against his in a rush of emotion and passion. Pulling back, he slid his hand into her uncovered hand as he led her into his bedroom. He did not give her any chance to examine the basic room before his lips were on her again.
Others were so easy; murmur some false words of affection and predictably they always gave him.
His lips did not break from hers as he pushed her back onto the bed, attempting to hide his uncertainty about an act he wanted, but had not done before.
The entire time he tried not to moan or smile with the combination of triumph and desire.
A/N: So there we have it. I specifically chose a time after Hogwarts for Voldemort's first. It is the 1940s and combined with this his desire to produce the right image at school, I decided a time after was required. Anesia Malfoy is an OC and as stated she is the sister of Abraxas (making her Lucius' aunt) something that could be quite possible. Tom of course goes on to break her heart and Abraxas Malfoy goes on to never join the Death Eaters (in my head canon at least).
As a point of irony, the name Anesia was chosen as it means chaste and pure.
