July of 1943...

(Malfoy Manor)

Of course, Tom was not the sort to show this girl, exactly how insipid he might make her feel. That would defeat the purpose of demeaning this little witch – and it would be quite satisfying to do so, considering her almost… superior demeanour.

Tom found that he quite liked the singular raised eyebrow that the Lajoie girl was now sporting in face of her pale family member. But… it simply wouldn't do to have someone else giving such a proud look.

So Tom, had sipped his drink and listened as Abraxas tilted his head back and laughed, his shockingly pale hair falling back, while Macnair and Goyle watched the girl in an odd fashion – as if she were a package, with a possible curse – about to explode.

The Malfoy heir then leaned forward to kiss her glove, pressing his mouth to the green silk – before lifting himself up to full height, giving her another happy smile.

"Amusing, Nagini. You were always one for odd greetings," Abraxas said lightly, but his pale grey eyes were dancing as he watched the lovely girl grin at him so unashamedly.

Tom stilled, waiting for that tell-tale shake of the head, and blush, that pureblooded girls were so often inclined to do, when a man such as Abraxas (or even better yet, Tom himself) made fun of them.

She simply rolled her dark eyes, in a most un-courtesan-like fashion. "All the more to remember me by when I am infinitely more well known than you are."

Interesting.

She didn't seem to care.

She actually seemed to relish in the teasing, and bite back with equal fervour.

Abraxas let out one of his rare, genuinely happy laughs, while Goyle and Macnair tittered. Tom Riddle gratified appearances by chuckling softly – and as he did so, letting the soft laughs escape him – her dark, impenetrable gaze flickered to where he stood.

An excitement washed over the teenager, when he realized if she held his gaze long enough, that perhaps he could try his hand at peering into her presumably shallow pool of petty thoughts.

Though, as if she knew his plan, the Lajoie girl turned away from him, causing her lovely forest green dress to tighten around her trim waist, raising her fine chin and extending a gloved hand to Goyle.

A part of Tom wanted to strike her in the mouth for being so impertinent – for failing to greet him right after her family member, Abraxas.

The dark-haired young man was used to being treated with the highest respect. Though, he was soothed slightly, when he remembered that her etiquette could not allow her to greet a stranger before purebloods she had known all her life.

She certainly knew how to play this game, Tom thought.

"Ahhhh," Goyle let out a reminiscent sigh, as he pressed a chaste kiss to her silk-sheathed knuckles, "Mademoiselle Lajoie, vous est parfait."

Tom wanted to laugh at the bulky man; his French accent was hideous. His laughable attempt at romanticism was nullified by his thuggish appearance and the way this girl seemed to outclass him.

Truly, it was evident that her social manners were far more developed than Reginald Goyle's, it showed in every swish of her hand, and the posture she held, yet she seemed to lack an elementary lesson that every good pureblood girl ought to have instilled in their lovely little heads at birth: it is best, if you are not heard. It is best, to have a gift for quietude.

The Lajoie girl seemed to think that his French was horrid too, or that he lacked a certain grace about him, because her lip curled slightly and she patted Goyle's hand in a mocking way.

"It is 'vous êtes parfaite', Reginald. But I do thank you for your attempt…" her voice was sweetly veiling the underlying insult. Though, Goyle didn't seem to notice it in any way, because Nagini Lajoie had given him a wide smile – all her lovely, white teeth in full display behind rouged lips.

Tom watched, slightly fascinated with her viper-esque attitude.

Next, she turned to Macnair, extending her hand yet again. "How good to see you again, Antares."

Her greeting was much more muted, reflecting the fact that Macnair was new money – not old money – and had just been let into these close British Pureblood circles a generation ago.

He smiled indulgently at her though, anyway – and kissed her glove softly. "Likewise, Miss Lajoie."

She nodded, those wild red curls bobbing with the movement, and finally, she turned to the Heir of Slytherin, himself.

Tom Riddle watched her with a slight expectation – as if he really would enjoy tearing her apart, or coaxing her to become yet another girl who's superficial affections he toyed with.

She turned her fiery onyx gaze on him, and he tried in vain to discern pupil from iris, as she smiled coyly at him.

"May I enquire as to who you are, sir?"

His body tensed at her rather curious lilt. She actually did want to know – what a nice development. She was curious about him, as he was curious to influence her.

He let his midnight blue eyes flicker down to where her hand was offered, and took it into his palm, in a gentle fashion.

"I am Tom Riddle, it is a pleasure to meet you, Nagini Lajoie." He bent his head and pressed his full mouth to the silk, disguising a slight shiver of pleasure at the feel of such a rich, exotic material.

"Ah, I have heard of you from my dear cousin, Abraxas. Though, he did not inform me that you had heard of my humble self, Mr. Riddle," the red-haired girl said in a voice that betrayed her tenuous surprise at having him name her. The soprano melody of her respectful verbatim, also seemed to sheath her irritation at being the one with less information, and having Tom be the one who knew of her.

Clearly, she enjoyed being a step ahead.

Tom smirked deeply to himself this quirk of the girl, and straightened in time to catch Abraxas' disbelieving snort at face value.

"Humble? You, Nagini?" Tom's pale follower scoffed at Ms. Lajoie.

She shrugged her delicate shoulders, before sipping from her crystal tumbler once more – her heart shaped lips pressed to the glass in a coquettish way.

Again, Tom let his eyes appraise her, and watched as her dark eyes danced while Abraxas continued to tease her. Clearly, his right-hand follower had a deep devotion to the redheaded woman before him. He hardly paid any mind to the girls at school who fawned over him for his pale looks, his grandeur or his money – but he seemed to take the time to speak with this dear cousin of his.

Though, Tom thought, this is the first time I have seen her.

Either that, or she had not been this remarkable before.

That hardly seemed possible, for her lovely complexion, fiery eyes and unique hair seemed to rivet everyone's attention in this room. That was solidified, when Tom glanced around as he took a long drink from his glass, and saw many a pair of inquisitive eyes on the young group.

He had let his mind slip away from the conversation at hand, but clearly Miss Lajoie wasn't as quiet and boring as the other pureblooded girls, who sat and watched conversation.

No, she was in it.

He watched, blocking out her words, as she furrowed her brow or traced the rim of her glass with an impatient air.

She lived and breathed her words. Acted them out with her arms and her flashing eyes.

Her body seemed to mirror her attitudes – tall, willowy and definitely different from the smaller girls he had been accustomed to. She was regal in height, in speech and in her aristocratic looks.

How, had he not seen her before?

"Miss Lajoie," Tom said in a firm voice, when he saw that Abraxas had effectively tired whatever argument they had been stringing along, "I do not mean to be rude, but I have never seen you at any of the Malfoy Manor parties…Nor anyplace else, in fact."

Miss Lajoie turned to give him a speculative look, before nodding slowly as she put a gloved finger to her mouth, tapping her drink-dampened lips in thought.

He let his eyes linger there for a moment, as the bead of whatever it was she was drinking was licked off her lips. It was a caramel hue… A brandy… Delicious.

His eyes snapped back up to her where her dark orbs were framed by light blonde lashes, and she spoke.

"Yes, Mister Riddle," she said in a deft kind of voice, "It would seem we have not met at any of my extended family functions here because of my deep interest in my studies, my family's rather erratic schedule due to my brother Cetus' extracurricular activities, and of course, the obvious fact: I do not attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

She was frank, Tom thought in slight surprise. He thought about testing her 'home-school' knowledge, but it was better to play dumb for the time being, so as to not alarm the girl, of his familiarity on her after questioning her family friend, Goyle.

"I see," Tom said in an offhand voice, "so since you are so studious, and you are of French descent, owing to the last name 'Lajoie', you must go to Beauxbatons then?"

Miss Lajoie shook her head, letting her gaze finally disconnect from his midnight blue eyes. "No, I do not go to any European wizarding school, Mister Riddle. I am home-schooled by tutors and by myself."

Tom wanted to sneer at her – she obviouslyhadn't gotten much education if she wanted to freely admit that.

Though he nodded, as if interested instead. "Indeed? And your brother, Cetus? Does he go to school?"

At the mention of her brother, her mouth seemed to pucker in distaste, and she caught his gaze once more, shaking her head. "No, he is also tutored. He had wished to go to Durmstrang or Hogwarts, but my mother and father wished for us to both stay home."

Abraxas snickered suddenly. "Undoubtedly, because of the anguish it would cause you both to be separated."

Tom felt a flicker of annoyance when she turned her dancing onyx gaze to her cousin to give him a look of disbelief. Abraxas' narrow face was deeply amused at her mercurial change in demeanour. She opened her rosebud mouth to say something, but Tom quickly called her back into the conversation.

"So, Miss Lajoie, you did not ever want to attend, Hogwarts?" Tom asked in a kind voice.

Of course, he could not think of anyone who would not want to come to Hogwarts. It was something to behold, and it was quite possible that he loved it there, and in Tom's opinion, to not adore and revere Hogwarts, was almost impossible to fathom.

She turned back, giving him a long, thoughtful look before her simple reply rattled him: "No. Hogwarts does not interest me, if not for a few things."

How could Hogwarts not interest her?

What sort of stupid witch didn't see Hogwarts as a threshold for pure, undiluted power?

His offence came through when he leaned towards her menacingly, and his followers tensed, as his long frame came closer to her. "Yes, and what could those possibly be, Miss Lajoie? Those few things that somehow managed to interest you?"

She seemed relatively unaffected by the fact he was irritated with her, or how nasty his tone had been when he had just questioned her. She even had the gall to smile playfully into his face, letting her lashes blink innocently as she traced his austere, yet remarkably handsome features with her wide eyes. "Oh, I'm not sure… The library… The Room of Requirement… and of course," he watched as her gaze grew sparkly in their darkness, and she raised a gloved hand to cup her mouth, as if she were giving him a delicious rumour. "I would love to find the legendary Chamber of Secrets…"

Tom's mouth went dry, and to his surprise his heart began to thump in a wild, erratic pattern within his chest.

Those simple words in that sundry soprano had caused his mind to leap and bound with his most deeply coveted ambitions and secrets.

The Chamber of Secrets… The Chamber he had vowed to find upon finding out that he was Heir to Salazar Slytherin last year…

Yet, here was this unknown shrew of a girl who was teasing him about finding it.

Well, now he had to find it. It was a given.

If only to make it a slap in her smug little face.

He pressed his lips together and watched as she tucked a stray strand of red hair behind her ear, and offered him a cocky smile. "Perhaps, I shall break in and do it all someday, but for now, I am content with my lack of presence on Hogwarts grounds." Her dark eyes closed with a slight bit of confidence as she continued on, and her tiny upturned nose scrunched up with humour.

Tom simply leaned back on his heels and appraised Miss Lajoie coldly, as she opened her mysterious eyes and waited for his answer.

Abraxas, Macnair and Goyle were all watching him in worry now. Afraid of his wrath against the outspoken girl.

"Only a foolish girl would believe themselves capable to break into Hogwarts," the tall young man said simply, as if dismissing her completely.

Nagini Lajoie raised her fine boned head to shake it slowly, smiling all the while. "Ah, ah, ah," she admonished him, to the horror of Tom Riddle's followers. "Not a foolish girl, but an ambitious one, my dear."

Abraxas began to take a step towards his cousin, for fear of his Master punishing her for her correcting him. He had never taken kindly to corrections, and certainly not disrespectful ones as he had just received from Nagini, but Abraxas noted with wonder that his Master was frowning at the girl, and then with a sudden quick- change in his face, he was smiling at her.

"Of course, ambition is always key," Tom said, as he stared at the lovely girl before him, as if she were a very odd puzzle.

Miss Lajoie seemed content with his answer, and gave her empty glass a scowl, before it replenished automatically. Obviously the Malfoys took no heed in keeping their guests well-quenched. She took a slight sip; smiling slightly into her glass, before giving a measured look to each of the men around her. "And anyone who thinks otherwise is doomed to a life as hollow as a Gryffindors head."

The group began to laugh, suddenly enthralled with this strange girl putting down their most hated house, and Tom felt his tingling curiosity again.

"May I ask where you have learned so much about Hogwarts?" his voice was commanding, but she seemed to overlook it.

It was true though, she seemed to know the slight ins and outs to the Hogwarts myths… The Chamber of Secrets, being the one that so direly interested Tom.

She tilted her head to the side, like she was evaluating his motives, before answering him. "Of course you may, sir. I may not attend the school…" she straightened, and her gaze became less mirthful and more solid, and daring, "but it does not mean I have not taken the liberty to read 'Hogwarts: A History'."

Ah, so the girl knew her literature.

Interesting, very interesting.

So this could be the testing of the waters… was she a true Pureblood to her core? Did she hate Muggles as he did…

Tom's voice melted into the intonation he used when he was trying to impress: deep and unquestionable. "It is a very good book, though lacking in further explanation of Salazar Slytherin's philosophy…"

At the name of the great Founder, his followers begin to nod fervently, but his eyes are locked on Miss Lajoie, and how her body seems to stiffen with excitement, and her black-sky eyes have gotten that manic sheen he had seen before, when she had so adamantly shown she did not agree with the old wizard who boasted of his potions knowledge.

She leaned towards him, and he noted once more, how her whole body seemed to be in a conversation, not just her mind, as if the two were completely linked with no divide. She could not control her body from reacting from her wild thoughts even if she wanted to, it seemed.

"They spurn his analogies because it conflicts with the current ones…" her voice had changed from a Lady entertaining fellow purebloods to a scholar in the throes of a debate – heated and yet light and crisp. Her lip was released from her lovely white teeth, and her face was smoothed with thought, her gaze far away. "It does not bode well to have an influential reference book clash with the idea of equality among wizarding-kind. It would be foolish to venture in territory that could rip apart the legislative measures the Ministry had taken…"

Tom breathed in at her words – so she wasn't as hollow-headed as I might have assumed her to be.

Yet, her mischievous look came back – and she looked up at Tom through her pale lashes, making him lean forward in anticipation for her next words.

"Though, Mister Riddle, if I may be so bold, there are many other books that will tell you of Slytherin's philosophy…" she smirked, as if tasting her phrase's connotations, and raised her mesmerizing dark eyes to stare innocently at the tall boy before her, "but perhaps ventures into restricted sections are far too extensive for your tastes?"

She…

That absolute -

What an insufferable wench.

He didn't know whether to smile, or drag her by her shiny lustrous hair across the room, where he could crucioher into apologizing and kissing his feet.

Tom didn't get the chance to choose though, because Abraxas Malfoy had stiffened to an almost painful-looking extent, and was staring at his cousin in disbelief.

"Nagini!" Abraxas hissed. "That mouth of yours! You are a lady, so if you please –"

Tom held up his hand. He would deal no punishment to this woman; ultimately there was no point in letting Abraxas berate the girl. Tom's pride was not wounded, nor was he insulted, he was simply intrigued. This infraction that the Nagini Lajoie girl had done upon him warranted only a bit of mockery, and of course, he had to inquire why this girl was so quick en lieu of the sluggishness of most females he had met.

"Abraxas, it is fine. There is no harm done, except perhaps to your reputation as a quiet good, doting women with a dowry…" his voice came through in a condescending tone, and even though his dark blue eyes were focused on Abraxas, he could see the impact it had on the girl. Miss Lajoie's mouth turned down into a scowl, but when he faced her, she did not smother it, she only raised an eyebrow, keen on knowing what exactly he had to say to her. "But I will take up your advice, Miss Lajoie, and research more extensively."

Her head once again, tilted in a silent question, and her lovely chest was shown in it's pale milky splendour, and her gloves clasped the glass tightly.

So, I put her off-kilter, do I?

Tom, thoroughly enjoyed this.

She did not back down though, she inclined her pretty head, and with all the arrogance she could muster, she answered very shortly.

"Of course, Mister Riddle."

A\N: As you can see I've gone a bit off-canon here. Originally, Tom Riddle opens the Chamber of Secrets and releases the Basilisk in his fifth year at Hogwarts, but I've pushed it back a bit, and in this story - he is about to go into his sixth year, aware of the fact he is the Heir, but will not open the Chamber until he is in his sixth year. It just works much easier for me, in this story.

As always, feel free to review or leave any comments or questions!