My Lord Voldemort

My Lord Voldemort

By: James S.

~

He always ate in silence; he never spoke a word to anyone around him. His black hair would lightly drape over his face. He looked so deep in thought every time I saw him. It took my breath away.

Then, all of a sudden, he would look up at me. Of course, I would always avert my eyes to my plate and push around the sprouts I had dished onto my plate earlier. Dinner was normally like this. I pushed back a tendril of my red hair and sighed. Why was Tom Riddle so mind-boggling?

He would walk down the halls of Hogwarts with confidence and a very powerful air to him. I tried to be inconspicuous as I followed behind him to classes. I almost felt as if I were stalking him. It was pathetic, acting like some adoring fan girl and he was my celebrity fancy. He certainly wasn't famous, but I viewed him as most girls viewed Launce Gilroy - the heartthrob singer...

I peered at him over my book in the Slytherin Common Room. He was chewing on the end of a quill and leaning over a diary of sorts, he always deep in thought. My eyes closed and that picture of him deep in thought, chewing on the end of a quill etched into my mind. I could imagine those lips no longer on the quill but lightly brushing against my lips. The thought made me shiver. I opened my eyes and he was gone. Then again, he always seemed to be moving, or studying, or doing something. Tom Riddle was always busy.

One Saturday, I followed him into the Restricted Section. I pretended to look for a book on the shelf right next to where he was looking. I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see him staring up at me from his squatted position on the floor. He straightened up.

"Are you following me?" he asked suspiciously.

Oh, that voice! I almost groaned at the sound of it. He really wasn't much of a talker so hearing his voice was a very rare occasion. I turned to look at him. I didn't know what to say, I opened my mouth to find myself stammering, and avoiding direct eye contact.

"I - I - I was just..." I stumbled over words that weren't forming well. The first time I actually spoke to Tom Riddle in six years and I turned into a broken record!

He looked somewhat upset. "Tell the truth," he said tersely, raising an eyebrow at me in a very Slytherin fashion.

I gulped and sighed. "I don't know..." Tell the truth - all right. "Yes, I've been following you for a while, actually..." I admitted regretfully and very guiltily.

Both of Tom's eyebrows rose at this aspect. "And, pray tell, why?" he drawled.

"Because," I said looking him in the eye. I licked my lips, nibbling them nervously.

"Because I kind of like you... that's all..." now I really felt guilty, embarrassed, and self-conscious. Heat rose to my face. I couldn't believe I just told him that. It was the truth. He asked for it.

He was just staring at me, seeming speechless. He was thinking; I knew that guise like I knew my own.

"I'm not stalking you, I just..." I licked my lips. "I just - maybe we can be friends?"

I felt so dumb. Friends? I wanted to be more than friends. I wanted to kiss the bloke crazy! To ravage him, run my hands through his raven tresses, and feel his hands on me, to feel his lips capturing mine! He pulled at my heartstrings.

Tom was skeptical, I rarely saw him look this way. He almost never looked confused or reluctant... but he did now. He nodded. "All right then - your name's Aasera Sloan, correct?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

My eyes widened. Dear Merlin! He knew my name? I nodded slowly as he extended his hand. I reached out and his hand grasped mine, I was trying hard not to make a noise at his touch upon my skin. It was just as I imagined. Shivers went up my spine - I had almost closed my eyes.

"I'll see you around," he said, letting go of my hand and walking toward the exit of the library. I stared after him, ignoring my urge to follow him and push him against the wall, then snogging him furiously.

I was in the common room the next time I came as close to him as I did in the library. I was sitting on one end of the sofa and Tom was on the other, reading a book I recognized from the restricted section. I opened and closed my mouth several times trying to think of a conversation topic to approach him with. I sighed and looked back down at the book I was reading. Why was talking to him so hard? Why was I always lost for words in his presence?

"What are you reading?" I heard his voice and looked up. He was talking to me! I smiled and licked my lips.

"I'm reading Advanced Charms in Theory - you?" I responded, I really didn't want to sound like I was hanging on his every word, but hearing his voice was like finally taking a drink after a long drought. It was so quenching...

"Just a book from the Restricted Section."

I nodded. "I bet you've read the whole library by now, Tom," I said, trying to prolong the conversation. I knew he had read the library - I watched him do it...

"You should know," he replied, raising his eyebrow knowingly. That means that he knew I've been watching him for some time, obviously.

I sucked in a breath. "I guess my secrets out then - I'm really sorry. I just..."

Tom was looking around at the crowded common room and he put his book into his bag. I closed mine. "I have prefect duties," he said, "would you like to continue this conversation with me in the corridors?"

"Um - sure," I said nervously and I followed him out of the Slytherin Common Room. It was much colder outside the common room than it was in the dungeon corridors. I knew I should have grabbed a cloak on the way out.

"Are you cold?" Tom asked as we turned into the next corridor and checked in the abandoned Potions room. He was checking every classroom for snogging couples and general rule breakers.

I shrugged. "I'll be fine," I said despite the shiver that seeped through me. Not a shiver of pleasure most definitely. I looked at the ground, thinking of something to ask him... anything. His favourite food? That was laughable...

I felt something warm cover my bare shoulders and looked up at Tom, who was now cloak less. He shrugged. "I should have told you the corridors were cold at night," he answered my silent question of why.

I grinned. "Th-thank you, Tom, so what did you want to talk about?" I asked conversationally. We continued to trek down the corridors.

"Why have you been following me, really?" he asked blatantly. I stared at him - his face was hidden since he was checking an empty classroom. He must have known that I didn't want to be just friends - he always seemed to know everything for some reason.

"I guess you're more observant than I though..." I said with a sigh. He smirked and nodded in response. "Right." I shrugged. "Well, I really kind of - well - I - I fancy you, Tom. Truthfully, I don't know why, but I just can't help myself from it."

"I fancy you," I repeated.

He nodded knowingly and we continued down the dimly lit dungeon. "How did you know?" I asked him. I felt embarrassed that he wasn't responding at all - was I really that revolting? Did he hate me? Oh, I should have just never crawled out of bed this morning...

"I've been watching you for quite some time - quite the little tactic, you have, my dear," he said slyly. He wasn't mad, which was a good thing. Now, he was just trying to play with my feelings. I knew that all too well, being a Slytherin myself.

I swallowed nervously. "I'm sorry, Tom, I just - ever since..." I sighed and closed my eyes. He was right next to me and yet I could see his face behind my eyelids. I felt his hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

Opening my eyes, I noticed he was right in front of me. He was expressionless, except for his lips, set in a very minute smirk. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in. If only he knew what I wanted to do to him. He was right next to a wall - that wall I wanted to push him up against and snog the living daylights out of him against. Have him mess up my hair and kiss me back with equal exuberance.

However, he tables turned. He gripped my shoulders and shoved me up against the wall. It was hard and cold on my back and his warm delicious body pressed against my front. There was a wicked glint in his eyes before his lips captured mine. Sensations I had never felt in my life washed over me. My head was lighter than air.

He tasted of cinnamon and dark chocolate. So earthy and dark. He was far from gentle; his tongue brushed my bottom lip and slipped in to duel with mine when I moaned into the kiss. My hands threaded though his hair. His hands were on the small of my back, traveling upwards to slip the cloak from my shoulders. I felt the cold air on my bare skin, but the feeling of his body against mine warmed my thoroughly.

His touch burned me. His hands traveled lower and lower on my back as he broke the kiss. He moved his mouth downwards assaulting my neck pleasurably, nipping at the sensitive skin near my collarbone. His fingers brushed the skin beneath the flimsy material of my shirt. Where ever he learned how to do such wonders was beyond me. He was amazing. I moaned his name and he moved his mouth to my ear. His breath tickling the hair on the back of my neck. "Call me your Lord," he whispered.

"My Lord," I gasped as he planted kisses down my jaw line and captured my mouth with his for one last passionate assault. He broke away and I stared into his eyes. His forehead was against mine.

He looked so in control. So powerful and almost deadly. It sent shivers up my spine. His rough hands roamed beneath my shirt. I sighed at the feeling of the skin on skin contact. I leaned down and kissed below his ear. "My Lord," I whispered.

I felt him chuckle deeply, his neck vibrating beneath my lips. I broke away and glanced back up at him. He covered my mouth with his, his tongue seeking mine, dueling for my submission. He overpowered me. I melted against him.

"I am," he said kissing me again, "Lord Voldemort."

I moaned and threw my head back when his mouth moved to the hollow of my throat doing wonders to it with his tongue. "Voldemort..." I sighed.

I heard that deep chuckle again. It was his deep and evil chuckle - and extremely sexy. He broke away once more and pulled away. "You know, I should be doing prefect duties instead of snogging you..."

"But that's no fun, my Lord," I said, using the name he told me to call him. I felt special using that name. Like I was privileged - to everyone else he was Tom, but he would be, from now on, Lord Voldemort to me.

He smirked at me as I reached down and picked up his cloak and shrugged it on round my shoulders. He griped my hand. "Just remember you're mine - there's plenty more time for that later..." he told me, his other hand brushing my chin.

My heart skipped a beat and I nodded.

He was my Lord Voldemort.