A/N: I really think Tom had a love-interest. So, here she is.

This is a short chapter, but if people like it, I will make it much longer next time! : D

(This story is un-beta'd, so if there is any spelling or grammatical errors, I apologize ahead of time.)

Prolouge.

Tom Riddle wasn't one to do these things often, but he was a male afterall and he wondered why he ever ignored this before.

She was stunning. Red hair, ice-cold blue eyes...she had the grace and figure of a ballerina, although more endowned. Her cheekbones were high, her skin was pearly white, soft and smooth. She looked like a human-emodiement of a habanera pepper. When she looked at you, your heart stopped for a moment. When she smirked, it made you feel like you wanted to run away. Tom Riddle wasn't the type to do either of those things, but he had experienced them both without showing little to no emotion. He didn't run away but rather watched her as she stood and walked over to him, wrapping her arms slowly around his neck and pulling him into a kiss that made Tom go absolutely mad.

Her body, pressed against his...they fit together like puzzle-pieces. Her body had smooth curves while his was strong and feirce. As they did their sensual movements together, their voices called out in pure ecstasy, wanting more and more. When they were through, they kissed like two people had never kissed before. There was no love present in it, but there was passion and lust. So much so that Tom had wanted to grab her and repeat everything once more, but his body couldn't... not again. He was exausted but he was not ready to let go of the beautiful figure in his arms.

Chapter one.

The week had been long, stressful. Tom Riddle never complained a bit, however, because he was Tom Riddle. He was a model student, Head Boy and people looked up to him for guidance as well as an idol to worship. Slytherin females talked merciless to him about insignificant material possesions, Slytherin males talked about their girlfriends and Quidditch matches. Nothing mattered to Tom Riddle other than one thing: power. To have all of the power in the wizarding world was his goal in life. To do so, he would have to sacrifice other's lives. This didn't bother him for Tom Riddle didn't have a heart. The ring he wore symbolized that much.

The library was quiet as per usual. Tom sat with a leather-bound book. Charms and More it said on the front in metallic gold lettering. It was an extra-credit assignment for Charms class because his grade wasn't as good as he had wanted it to be. He had been up late at night reading books from the Restricted Section of the library underneath the covers of his four-poster bed. However good he may be in Charms, he was better at Defense Against the Dark Arts because he had such talent for the Dark Arts. He enjoyed learning about them. He was never going to try to prevent them for he was going to use them. In fact, he already had. To have power, he needed several different lives. That was where the Horcruxes came into play.

It was almost time for supper and students were shuffling out in groups, gabbing to one another about things of friends, of people, or rumors. Tom Riddle looked up a moment and noticed a girl wearing Slytherin robes coming towards him. She had flaming red-hair, the color of blood with icey blue eyes, the color of the sky at dawn. She wasn't walking towards him, but rather to the exit that he happened to be near. He watched her with his dark eyes as she passed him. She, too, caught his gaze and watched him. She smirked and left the room. Tom looked at the exit for a moment longer then turned back to his book. He shut it with a thump and held it in one had. With the other he gathered up his other belongings such as his Slyterin scarf and Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.

He walked to the Great Hall with other Slytherin members, some saying a hello to him. He nodded and smiled almost kindly as they did that, pretending like he was a decent fellow with good intensions at heart. It was so easy to lie to these kids. They were all stuck-up, rich, snobby... Everyone of them the same. However when he saw that girl with the red hair, she was different. Tom could feel her dark aura streaming off of her.

Even though it was against his nature to be intrigued by females like her, he was secretly. He wondered if maybe she, too, had the same intensions as he did for the future. All of the other Slytherin females wanted nothing more than to marry young, rich men and live in big houses. It was their nature, after all. Tom hated it.

Later that evening he walked to the common room alone, taking his time with every lethargic but purposeful step. When he walked through into the common room, he noticed that it wasn't very busy; a few students lingered near the book shelves, some were playing Wizard's Chess, and others were just conversing normally with each other. Tom Felton took a book from a large pocket found on his robes. He sat in one of the leather chairs, sitting neatly and with authority. He opened the book and begin to read. He had lost track of time, and noticed that most of the students were gone when he finally looked up.

However, there she was. Red hair, hard facade, graceful stance. She was smirking at him. She walked to him and when she reached his chair an ivory hand touched the back of the chair softly, the skin gliding over the luxurious material. He watched her do it with a stern face, his eyes on the hand, noticing its delicate shape, the dainty fingers... He looked up to the face that matched it, her eyes seeming to ghost over him coldly, without expression even though her ruby-red lips had a very mischievous and devilish-looking smirk on them. He turned his eyes away for fear of giving the slightest evidence of curiosity on his face. He was Tom Riddle, after all. He cared for no such thing. If he began to have undesirable feelings for this woman, his whole plan would be ruined. He had worked too hard, as shown by the ring on his finger.

"May I help you?" he said coldly to the girl that he felt was still behind him.

"Hm? Did you say something?" She was looking elsewhere, at the moving pictures on the walls which depicted past Slytherin students, now grown and very wealthy.

"I know well that you heard me."

He twisted himself around the chair, standing tall to face her. She kept nonchalantly staring at the paintings and the other trinkets that decorated the Slytherin common room, as if she hadn't seen them before.

"I do not need help, but if I do, I shall ask." She turned towards him and on her lips played a precarious half-smile that faltered. It would've been a very genuine smile if it hadn't been for her eyes staying the same. If Tom Riddle was any other man, he would've shivered down to his feet, but he was just as cold and knew nothing of the like.