Before He Was Voldemort (A Tom Riddle Fanfiction)

Chapter 32: Secret Affair

10 March, 1944

The past few weeks have been some of the strangest I have ever experienced. I see things differently. I feel things differently; things in which I don't comprehend. It is as though I am made up of two opposite beings. There is my normal self, where my ambition overpowers any human emotion that threatens to derail my focus.

However, there is this new part of myself that I do not recognize. It has caused me to establish some form of an affair with Corinne. We meet in secret almost everyday. We exchange words only uttered from the lips of lovers. We touch and kiss one another in ways that contradict every form of appropriateness.

I grow more and more puzzled by the way I seem to lose sight of every ounce of my personal principles when I am around her. Horcruxes become a distant notion. Immortality becomes a casual ideal. Unlimited power will cross my mind without igniting any sort of exhilaration. Corinne has a hold on me just as a Veela seduces her male prey.

This is only a physical attraction. While it is impossible for me to feel and understand love, I am still a man with bodily desires. It is only natural in my human state. Therefore, what I feel for Corinne must only an internal urge provoked by physical contact. This is surely the reason I still find myself spending a considerable amount of time with her.

I also now view her as a potential asset. She is wiser than I originally gave her credit for. Not only did she inspire me with the idea of pursuing a possible career in teaching- a useful way to spread my ideology to the future of wizardkind- but she also provided me with information I can use to free myself from my disgusting Muggle father's name. A name like Tom Riddle will not evoke fear from those who subject themselves to me. But now I know exactly what will.

Every wizard in the world will soon tremble at the very thought of Lord Voldemort.

- T.M.R.

* * *

March, 1944

"Never in a million years did I expect, Tom Riddle, the master of Potions, to mess up by one step," Corinne stated over-dramatically, grinning with glee.

"Shut up," Tom hissed through his teeth. Corinne could see the faint color rising in his cheeks. "It's your fault."

Corinne scoffed. "How is it my fault? If I remember correctly, you were the one who insisted on handling the potion!"

"That may be," Tom countered. "But I couldn't help that I had a certain distraction." He smirked as his eyes flickered up and down Corinne's form.

Corinne's eyes widened, and she felt her face turn beet red. Tom, clearly amused and satisfied, let out a husky chuckle and returned to stirring their slightly discolored potion. That cheeky bastard, she thought.

Corinne never thought she'd witness the day Tom Riddle make a mistake academic-wise. And to think that, according to him, it was her fault, somehow made the idea that more entertaining. It was almost comical thinking that she had Tom wrapped around her finger like a mythical siren attracting sailors, when really, it was the other way around. He was the manipulative snake charmer, while Corinne was the compliant cobra.

Curiously, she sneaked another peek at their potion and had to stifle a laugh. Professor Slughorn asked everyone to brew a Draught of Living Death, one of the more complicated brews the class had tackled this year. Slughorn claimed the potion was supposed to appear clear as water once you finished brewing it. Corinne and Tom's was perfect in consistency, but remained an ugly shade of plum purple. Anything could have gone wrong with it.