(Third Person)

Ginny's lips caressed his softly, almost scared that she would be found with him, found with the Dark Lord. The air was cold and wet but when the two touched their skin ignited into a flame of passion. How could he be so foolish to think that he had not fallen for her? Fallen for the girl on the platform.

This was the image that constantly played through his head.

Sitting in his chambers, Voldemort had just one thing on his mind. Ginny, that strange beautiful girl from the railway platform. There was something else going on in his mind, something was changing, and it was changing fast. This was something that he had never once experienced before in his entire life.
Pacing across the room, he approached the window, glaring across the fog filled hills to the castle below. The castle called Hogwarts. His gaze was held by the castle for only a few moments, looking away, he headed towards a large bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. He placed his pale, almost translucent hand upon a small book, bound together by a black leather cover. This book, this diary, held all of the answers. Contained within this diary was a form of Voldemort that he had long since abandoned; his 16 year old self.
Tom Marvolo Riddle could never be described as a 'normal' child. He was always different from the other children in the orphanage; his purpose in life was to continue his ancestor, Salazar Slytherin's work in ridding Hogwarts of mud-bloods. Even as a teenager, he had never been distracted by girls, so what was happening now?

He knew what he had to do. He had to use Ginny; he had to use her to kill Potter. There was only one way to do that, he had to use the one thing that all young girls fall victim to, love. But who would fall in love with him in this form? The form that people had grown to fear and despise. The form that only someone such as Bellatrix Lestrange could find attractive; as a boy he wasn't the most revolting looking wizard, but he had an aura about him, an aura of evil. Maybe Ginny would be attracted to him in this way; maybe she would love him instead of idiotic Potter. The diary must fall into her hands somehow.