I had protested. No girl, especially at the age of 19- should be forced to visit the Dark Lord as entertainment. What type of entertainment did such a man require? Would I be chained? Bound to the wall against my will, screaming and begging for mercy? Just so the outcome could end with suffering?

Who knew?

No one dared to speak of their experience one the Dark Lord was finished with them; although I hardly saw girls go in or come out of his manor. But surely, I was not his first object as entertainment? I couldn't be... This man, scary and powerful man could have anyone he wanted. Many women threw themselves at Tom Riddle because underneath all that deadly fear, they had inner motives- something the Dark Lord knew about and didn't fail to take caution whilst 'interacting' with them. But some looked past his psychopathic power- they found him so enticingly attractive, they would willingly sacrificed their lives just to sleep or fondle with him.

Truth be told, I hardly ever saw the Dark Lord. Many said he looked just like a fallen angel, but we all know the Devil was once an angel right? It made sense, a regular or beautiful looking man possessing such powerful magic, and using it for selfish or cruel reasons. One could say he was the devil in disguise.

Today was the day I would truly find out, see this powerful- cruel and murderous man for myself. The Wizard my parents worshipped, my entire family worshipped.

As I forced myself to knock on his dark, ominous door- I could practically feel my entire hand fall cold, numbness almost taking over. I couldn't hide the fact that I was petrified, I mean who wouldn't be? This was Tom Riddle I was forced to visit and entertain, at least- that's the word my father used? Entertain...

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity- a small, bruised house elf opened the door. It's large, wide brown eyes staring up at me in curiosity, "Miss?" her face turned sour within a matter of minutes, clearly she didn't like the look of me.

"I'm Lara Phillips" my voice almost hitched, as I resisted the sudden urge to gaze around the extremely large manor. From the corner of my eye, I could already tell the walls were dark, forbidden looking colours; crimson representing blood, dark green representing Slytherin and black representing terror. It all made sense, for a man with such dark power.

Without another word, the house elf seemed to have known exactly who I was. Grunting, she turned around and led me through the grim halls until we both arrived in front of a large brown door- "Knock when you are ready to go in, Miss" the house elf almost whispered, as if being near the large door had taken all of her dignity away.

Nodding, I took a deep breath- knowing I would have to get this over with sometime. As soon as my knuckle connected with its polished wood, a soft, deep voice called from the inside, "You may enter"

Breath in my throat, I entered the large room- my eye sight averting towards the large marble table that sat in the centre of the room, along with thousands of books that covered the dark green walls. I had heard of Tom Riddle's intelligence, but now I could surely believe that this man was far more knowledgeable than I once thought.

"There must be a reason why you are standing in my study room, other than to analyse it" the soft, but sharp voice spoke- as my eyes immediately fell upon... The Dark Lord.

That was the man that many people feared? A gorgeous- pale man with deep dark eyes- Perfect, pearly teeth and a muscular but equal figure that could pull of any suit you gave him. He was the definition of perfect; he may have been much older than me but- no wait.

This man was a psychotic murderer that killed and still kills many innocent people for pleasure- perhaps my family agrees but I certainly don't. No matter how perfect looking he is, I would never willingly give myself to him, "My Lord, my father sent me- I am Lara Phillips" I said quietly, daring not to make eye contact. I may have felt attracted, but the fear I felt was far stronger.

"Ah, yes. Miss Phillips" Tom stood up, the height difference between us easily recognisable- "I have been expecting you."