"Wh --- excuse me?" I ask. I suddenly feel drained, tired... and sad.

"You were in love with him," Dumbledore says, then he pauses. "You do realize that he's back."

I suck in a breath. "Of course I know. There has been talk of nothing else."

"There is a possibility that he might try to find you."

I squeeze my eyes shut. "I know."

"There have been whispers of your travels, of your face being seen."

"Okay, well, if that's the case and he wants to find me, then what am I doing here? Shouldn't I go as deep into hiding as I've ever been?"

"Yes," Dumbledore says. "And that is still very much an option, but not one of the reasons I have brought you here today." H pauses again, taking a deep breath before saying, "Clair, I need your help."

"My help?"

"You were once Voldemort's best friend. You must know a lot about him?"

"I guess so," I admit slowly.

"I would be very much in your debt if you told me somethings about him."

"He's evil."

Dumbledore chuckles. "Yes. It would seem so, but answer me this: Why would you fall in love with him if he was so evil?"

"I didn't exactly know at the time! I was thirteen when I realized I loved him. I met him down at the lake my first year. We just started talking and---" I stop talking because I'm so overwhelmed with forgotten memories.

I'm suddenly there, all those years ago, sitting on a rock over looking the Black Lake. I'm enjoying the view and missing home when it suddenly feels like someone is watching me. I turn to see the most handsome boy I've ever seen. He's got jet black hair, combed to the side in a cute way, and eyes that are so piercing I think I might be able to see them from space. He's just so beautiful. I don't know what to say as he comes and sits next to me.

"I see I'm not the only one who enjoys the view from here."

It takes me a minute to comprehend that he's talking to me. His voice is so perfect.

"Um, yeah. Really pretty." I'm not sure if I'm talking about the view or him. I can't tell. I can't even tear my eyes from his face.

He smiles. "Are you always this disoriented when having a conversation?"

"Um... no," I answer, shaking my head. "Not usually."

He smiles again. "I'm... Tom Riddle." His smile fades.

"What? You don't like your name?"

"How'd you guess that?"

I shrug, forcing myself to look away. "The way you said it. It seemed like you were a bit reluctant to tell me."

"You're a good guesser."

I shrug again. "I read between the lines."

There's a lull in the conversation. It isn't awkward or expecting. We sit there in companionable silence.

Then he says, "And usually when someone introduces themselves, the other person should as well. Did you infer that?"

I look at him, the corner of his mouth is tugged up in a half smile. He's teasing me.

Realizing that, I blush. "I'm Clair Clearwater."

"Nice to make your aquaintance."

I giggle. "It's nice to meet you, too."

And from there things just went on. We bacame best friends. Sometimes it's like we knew each others moods better than our own...

Or, I thought we did. I always suspected that there was something darker than what could be seen by the naked eye, but I never really paid close enough attention.

I had never suspected that I fell in love with the most powerful dark wizard of all time.