TITLE: Presenting Tom Riddle
DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling and associates own all rights and privileges to these characters. I own nothing associated to Harry Potter and am only writing this for fun and leisure. No profit of any kind is being received by writing this story.
RATING: T
WARNINGS: Some cursing, violence, and torture. Canon-compliant.
SUMMARY: Tom Marvolo Riddle is different from other children. Is he really the freak they claim he is? Why does he burn with the passion to hurt, to possess, to control? When Dumbledore shows up, his world is reversed, and now they are the freaks. He'll show them, once he gets back from his first year at Hogwarts.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is the first book in the series "The Life of Voldemort." It will be updated hopefully once a week once I get started. I stick to canon as much as possible. I hope you enjoy!
BOOK ONE: Presenting Tom Riddle
Prologue - "Love & Deceipt"
Merope was free. She was finally and utterly free. Free of the terror, the pain, the indescribable abuse—all which came from her father, Marvolo.
She peered out of the window to see the Aurors, who were flanking both Marvolo and Morfin, her brother. Merope had watched them chase Bob Ogden out of the shack and had dealt with Marvolo's rage afterwards, as it had been released onto her.
How dare those Mudblood lovers! Marvolo had screamed in Parseltongue. Coming into our house! Trying to take your brother! Morfin had sniggered at the comments. Merope had stared in fear. She knew their father's magic was stronger, more forceful, when he was angry. And, of course, he proceeded to take out his anger on her.
She was crying in a corner, about to be dealt another Crucio curse when the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had appeared into thin air and put him and Morfin under control. The Aurors had Apparated straight into the Gaunt abode to take both her brother and father to Azkaban on charges of producing magic before Muggles, harrassing a Muggle with magic, and also for resisting arrest and failure to show at Morfin's Wizengamot trial.
She watched out of the only window as the Aurors and her only family Disapparated.
The idea of them being punished was almost too much for Merope. She was giddy with an unwelcome taste of revenge. She wanted the dementors to feed on their souls, to take away the only happiness they ever had. If they have any left to take, she thought. They have taken so much from me.
A smile crept across her face for the first time. She was free to do almost anything!
And she knew exactly what she wanted to do.
She had had her eye on Tom Riddle for a while. His manor was well-kept and everyone in town knew that he was rich beyond the Gaunt's wildest dreams. He was a Muggle of course, but that didn't stop Merope from wanting him. The first time she had laid eyes on Tom, she knew that they would be in love one day. She had scoured her mind for the best way to attract Tom.
Merope had longed to be with him for quite some time now. She would peek out from behind the hedges to see him on his carriage and horse, trying to glimpse at his dark handsome figure. Of course, she had seen him with that girl Cecilia which always stirred her heart with anger and frustration. She knew she didn't stand a chance, being a witch and not being the most attractive of women. Also, she knew her father and brother spat at the very thought of Muggles, let alone having one in the family. They were the remaining heirs of Salazar Slytherin, and she couldn't deny that anymore than she could deny her lust for Tom.
He was so neat, clean, and gentlemanly. He would treat her well. She knew it. He would one day love her if it was the last thing she did.
Finally breaking away from the empty yard, she turned and went into the stolid bathroom. There, staring back at her in the dirt-strewn mirror, was the image of Merope. She held her hands up to her sallow, full face. Her eyes were vacant, her hair was lame and stringy. She pinched at her gray clothes and tried to wipe some smudge off of her face. Disgusted, she turned away, her heart beating fast. How is Tom ever going to want to be with me! A freak! An ugly freak! I've seen him with that Cecilia girl! She is beautiful and rich, just like Tom. And I'm sure his parents dote on her as if they were already married!
Her heart sank a little.
She had heard the rumors of their forthcoming elopement and did not care whether they were true or not. It didn't matter. Even if she could win Tom's heart over, she knew her family would never accept him. He was a Muggle, and she was a witch. They didn't belong together according to tradition. She would have been cursed across the room with even the mention of it. But, she trembled with excitement again, they're gone. They're both gone, and I can have him if I really want him! I am a witch after all.
Her powers had grown weak over time. Neglect and lack of training had stalled her abilities to be at about the same level as a Squib, according to Marvolo.
She turned away from the mirror. There was too much truth for her to continue looking.
Merope knew what she must do to win Tom Riddle over.
She crossed the room and stopped near the furthest corner. There, she haphazardly tossed pieces of parchment, empty cans, and other hoarded items out of the way, searching. Neglect of knowledge had left the Gaunts with a small library, seeing as they didn't care for anything except the abuse of Merope and hunting animals and torturing them in the surrounding forest.
Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed...She threw it aside. Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy...
And finally, she found it.
She held up the book, closed her eyes, and blew off the years of dust that had settled on top. Pfffooo.
MOSTE POTENTE POTIONS
by
EDGARD WORMSHIRE POMFREY
She stared at it, a gleam in her eyes. The book still maintained its purple cover with gold embossing. It was the key to her future.
Merope walked slowly to the armchair where Morfin had sat not mere hours ago. The adder he had held was sliding across the room to take refuge in the corner she had just left. Slowly, she sat down, never taking her gaze away from the book. Another smile had crept along her face.
Placing the book in her lap, she opened it up and found the index. It didn't take her long at all to find what she was looking for.
Aha!
Amortentia – The Strongest of Love Potions...pg. 14
Little Hangleton was almost in sight.
Tom Riddle made his way down the dirt road, which was covered in snow. He had walked all the way from Great Hangleton where he had been robbed of his horse and carriage whilst purchasing a wedding ring for Cecilia.
How cruel this is! If I ever find out who stole my bloody carriage, they will pay dearly! What will my parents say when I tell them we have no transportation?
Tom was frustrated. He hated having his parents look down upon him. He had desperately been trying to court Cecilia so that they could have a manor of their own away from his parents and that silly little town. His brows furrowed at the thought of going back there to be mocked by his family. Nothing was ever right for them.
Being a squire's son required a lot of political nonsense to affect everyone in the family. Tom and his family had to be "concerned" and "willing to serve," even if they all knew it was bullocks.
Tom bundled his trench coat around him tighter and tucked his hands up underneath his arms. I could surely use a drink right about now. Anything to quench this thirst.
He sloped left and started down the hillside. In front him lay Little Hangleton; the valley-town was snug between the hill he was treading down and the hill on the opposite side where he could see his father's manor. The manicured hedges trimmed the lower part of the house and had a layer of snow on top. Tom had to admit to himself it was a very handsome home, and how much he would love to own it one day to come back and visit with his family, even if it was in this silly little town.
My family—
Cecilia surely was the most beautiful woman in Hangleton. Tom saw the way that all of the other gentlemen had trouble keeping their eyes off of her in church and around the town.
As he continued to walk down the hill, he pulled the ring out of his coat pocket. The velvet crushed box was very trim and proper. He opened it up and gazed at the diamond. Tom really hoped that Cecilia accepted it and him. It was a classic ring, and he was sure that his father would approve.
He was just passing the hedgerows when a lady came strolling out of a break in the bushes. She was holding what looked like an opaque pitcher and had a rocks glass in the other hand.
I'm almost home...but I could really use a drink. Tom considered it. Well, I must say that's quite convenient.
Tom half-walked half-ran towards the lady. She was cloaked and he couldn't make out her face.
He approached and then realized where she had come from. If she had come out of there, Tom thought, then she is probably a Gaunt. They're the only ones who live anywhere around here whose property we don't own.
He wasn't so sure he should come any closer, knowing the history of the Gaunts, but his longing to have a drink slip down his throat was overwhelming after almost six miles of walking.
Tom approached the cloaked figure. He pushed his dark hair out of his face and looked at the steaming pitcher, the glass, and then proceeded to speak.
"Hello, Miss! How are you on this cold and snowy December day?"
The figure shrugged her shoulders.
Tom looked at her inquiringly.
"Well, I must say, it had been one bloody fun day for me. I was shopping in Great Hangleton you see..."
She had poured a glass from the pitcher and handed it to him mid-sentence.
"...why yes, thank you. May I ask what this is? It looks like a mead of some sort. Hm...oh well, I am very thankful for your hospitality."
He sipped on the drink. What a relief! He was so thirsty that he almost downed the whole of the glass. As it was going down, he had noticed the smell of it for the first time. It smelled of shoe polish, bouillabaisse, and fresh sun-dried laundry.
"...mm, quite delicious! It has a wonderful aura, but...oh, yes, and I was purchasing a ring you see..." Tom started, looking down at the cloaked figure. She was stumpy, he could see bits of her stringy hair hanging out around the ends of her cloak. The drink had given him a tingling sensation. It felt downright amazing!
Tom was trying not to be rude to her. "...um..May I have some more, kind lady? It was quite delicious!"
She poured him another glass full. He downed it. All of his insides were warming up.
The lady pulled the cloak away, revealing her split eyes, dirty features, and a weak smile only a mother could love which turned quickly into a flat vacant look.
Tom pulled back in shock. Then, he started looking harder into her face. He squinted his eyes. Suddenly, he was flooded with emotions. He didn't know why, but it felt so right.
"My lady." He bowed to the ground, not caring whether or not he became more dirty. He wasn't sure why he felt this way, but she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Cecilia could not compare. Cecilia had lost his heart instantaneously.
"My lady, what is your name? You are most desirable. You are not married are you? Please, say no."
Tom looked up at her. Her expression had changed from a sulk to one of pure happiness. Yes, Tom thought, this is what I desire! Her smile makes my world a better place.
"M' name's M-Merope. Merope Gaunt. A-a-and no, Tom...no, I'm not married."
"You know my name! Oh, why sweet, sweet Merope!"
He threw the cup to the side, causing it to land with a splat in the snow and pulled the wedding ring out of his pocket and looked at the box again. Surely, he had not thought to give this to Cecilia. Surely, this Merope Gaunt was wanted by all of the men in town, and Tom had to have her.
This was the right moment.
"Merope, sweet Merope...will you marry me?"
Months went by, and the town of Little Hangleton had been in an uproar of whispered half-truths. Shock and disbelief had swept over the village when it found out what had happened with Tom and Merope. Rumors had started to spread after Tom had not shown up the day after his trip to Great Hangleton.
A barmaid, on her way to the well, saw the whole event take place. Tom had stopped near the Gaunt's house on foot. There was a brief interaction and Tom had filled his parched mouth with some cloaked figure's glass and pitcher. Next thing the barmaid knew, Tom was on one knee with what looked like a ring in his hand.
He had not returned to the manor that evening or the next day. His parents had sent out the town police guard the next day with no trace of Tom Riddle in sight in or around Little Hangleton. Cecilia was beside herself, crying into Mr. Riddle's arms, unsure of why Tom could have been so cruel, so thoughtless. He didn't even tell anyone where he was heading with that horrible Gaunt lady.
But Merope knew exactly where he was.
She held him in her arms in bed in a little room they had rented in Great Hangleton. Tom was staring up at her and smiling at her longingly.
She had gone out earlier that week to stock up on groceries, buy new clothes, and purchase what was needed for them to stay there, away from their old hometown. Tom's money was accepted everywhere, and she had plenty of memory charms left up her sleeve for those inquiring more information from her.
This is what I've always wanted. Merope thought of Tom and thought of her past life. If only father and Morfin could see me now. Oh, how they would reek of shame! And oh, how I would rub it in their face. They cannot take this away from me. She hugged him closer. No one can.
Of course, this was partly due to the fact that every tonic, every juice, every concoction Tom had taken from Merope included some of the Amortentia potion. She had been sure not to let him go longer than 12 hours without it. It did mature with time, and he was becoming almost obsessive with her. Sometimes, it was hard to leave the room to start a new batch of potion without him almost breaking down the door, wanting to hold her and tell her how beautiful she was.
I hope father doesn't come looking for us. That was one thing Merope dreaded. She feared that more than anything. If he found her letter, telling him everything about her elopement, and attempted to find them, he would surely succeed. And if he succeeded, Merope didn't stand a chance. She knew that magic was fueled by emotion, and Marvolo would have plenty after returning from Azkaban to an empty house.
So far he has stayed away. This was something she was grateful for.
She stroked Tom's dark, soft hair out of the way again. How lucky am I? With her other hand, Merope grabbed Tom's hand that was on her belly, and rested it there.
She had already decided on a name for their newborn when it came.
If it is a daughter, she will be Mary Merope Riddle.
If it is a son...Tom Marvolo Riddle.
