The beginning of my sixth year proceeded normally enough, filled with homework, friends, and the occasional quidditch match. I kept myself preoccupied enough so that I didn't have spare time to think about anything else. Or anyone else.

It was simple enough to keep him out of my thoughts during the day, but it was at night when he truly haunted me. Night after night I dreamt about him, speaking to him, befriending him. They were such strange dreams too, often times it was something completely random that happened in them.

I explained one of these dreams to Catherine, who felt the need to interpret it, thinking herself quite good at divination. In it I had been sitting with Tom, talking to him as if he was a good friend, when suddenly my tooth fell out. He didn't say anything about it and acted like he hadn't noticed, but it was obvious he must have.

"Oh, Phoebe, I know what it means," Catherine told me excitedly. "It means you're willing to give things up to be with him."

"That's ridiculous," I said stubbornly. "I'm not willing to give things up to be with him. I don't even want to be with him."

"Yes, you do," Catherine insisted. "Otherwise why would you keep dreaming about him?"

"Dreams don't mean anything. Divination is complete rubbish anyhow."

Although I would not admit it to Catherine, there was something else that had been bugging me, something I was wondering about. Was Tom haunted by similar dreams of me? I knew it sounded silly, and I shouldn't expect it, yet I couldn't help but wonder. Maybe the reason why I couldn't get my mind off him was because somehow, someway, we were destined to be together. I could think of no other logical reason for why he was so often in my mind.

Despite my feelings, I attempted to push on with a life that did not include Tom Riddle at all. I was quite successful in this except when I was in Potions class. I was a strong Potions student and could get away with not hanging on Professor Slughorn's every word. Regrettably, the extra time was spent watching Tom.

It frightened me and thrilled me to find that he was usually watching me back. He never broke eye contact (I was always the one to do so), and he never gave any sort of recognition. He never smiled or nodded, just stared.

It was a night in early October when I realized that I needed another book to complete my Defense Against the Dark Arts paper. It was still early evening and the library had not yet closed, so I hurried there to find what I needed.

I wish now that I had never gone up there. If I hadn't been so hard working and determined to finish my paper, things might have ended up differently. Then again, they might not have.

However, I did go, and it was just my luck that I ran into Tom Riddle on the way up.

"Hey, Phoebe," he said, his face never cracking a smile.

"Hi," I replied, and attempted to walk past him.

He reached out and grabbed my elbow, pulling me back towards him. I shivered at his touch. For the longest time he did not speak or move, but only stared, causing my heart to race and fear to take me over. He looked me up and down and almost made me feel indecent, as if he could see past my robes and knew what was underneath. I felt as if he could see past even my skin and into the deepest corners of my mind where my most hidden thoughts were.

I was backed up against the wall and he leaned his head towards me. I wondered if he would kiss me, and almost as soon as the thought entered my mind he did.

I felt every sort of sensation, every possible emotion that I knew to exist. I was lost in passion, and perhaps even love and extreme attraction for this handsome young man that had haunted my heart. I felt anger: at him for being so cruel sometimes and stealing from people, and at myself for allowing him to do this to me. I was puzzled, confused, and nervous.

I felt his hands on the back of my neck as I ran my hands through his hair. It was then that I realized there was another emotion I was feeling as well- sadness, and despair. I grew depressed upon knowing instinctively that Tom felt nothing that I was feeling. He did not kiss me for love, or even for lust.

There was only one reason why Tom held me in his arms, and that was for complete and utter control. And I allowed him to have that feeling of power and control over me.

He finally pulled away from me but kept his gaze connected with mine. Then, as suddenly as he had come, he walked away with his hands in his pockets.

I just remained standing there, as if someone had put a full Body-Bind spell on me. I was paralyzed and couldn't move at all. Finally the realization of what had just occurred hit me, and I was so overcome with emotions that the tears began rolling down my face. I slid down the wall until I was crumpled on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

It wasn't until much later that I realized the necklace I had been wearing that night was gone.

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A/N: I hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving, if you celebrate it. Hope you liked this chapter- please review!

Thanks to my reviewers: Aladailey, Lauressa, Phantom'sJediBandieGirl, xxmadcowluvverxx, super kai-chan, and krillball6!

Phantom'sJediBandieGirl- I think she doesn't like him for who he is, but there is just something intriguing about him that makes it so she can't stop thinking about him.

Lauressa- Unfortunately, Lord Voldemort has supposedly never loved another human being in his life.

Aladailey- Thanks. I actually haven't read many other Tom Riddle fics, but I can imagine the horrors of some Tom Riddle/Hermione fics. I have seen a few TR/Ginny fics, but I didn't really care for them.