Nope. I don't own Harry Potter.
Just a thought that came to me the other night. I always sort of wondered how Tom figured out his name spells "I am Lord Voldemort". I mean, Voldemort? Who thinks up a name like that? Anyway, please enjoy my version of how it happened.
"An anagram," Tom's Ancient Runes professor droned, "is a word or phrase formed from the letters of a different word or phrase. Many ancient inscriptions involve anagrams, since they were believed to endow the words with an extra level of hidden power. For example, the inscription on page four hundred …"
Tom's mind wandered resolutely away from page four hundred. He sighed and twirled his quill idly. Hidden power … huh. Struck by a sudden thought, he fished out a spare piece of parchment and wrote out his own name in big, blocky letters.
TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE
What hidden power could there be in those ordinary letters? If he could rearrange the very symbols that made up his identity, would he be somehow changing himself? Tom stared at his name intently, as though he expected the letters to suddenly rearrange themselves into some mystical message. The M-A at the beginning of Marvolo, that could be AM. There was an I, too. I AM.
I AM what?
With a quick glance around the room, Tom discreetly slid out his wand and poked at the inked letters, making them move across the page. The I AM went up to the top of the parchment. He pushed the rest around carelessly, arranging and re-arranging them in a loose cloud. Suddenly he chuckled almost inaudibly and slid four more letters into place.
The message now read I AM LORD.
What a joke – the orphan Tom Riddle being a Lord of anything.
No. He wasn't allowed to think like that. Tom unconsciously gritted his teeth. He'd sworn it on his first night at Hogwarts – he would make a name for himself. A name the whole world would know and fear. It's a sign, he thought. That dream of mine will come true. All he needed now was the rest of his new title.
T, O, M, R, V, O, D, L, E. What could he make out of those letters? Again and again he prodded them across his parchment. OLD – MOLD – MOLT—MORT – MORTE –
Morte. That was French or something, wasn't it? It meant Death.
Death for the kids at the orphanage who had teased him for years. Death for his so-called family, who had abandoned him. For his fellow students who always sneered at him, for the Headmaster who wouldn't let him stay here over the summer. Tom nodded grimly. He would definitely have "morte" in his new name.
Only four letters left now. V, O, D, and L. Vodl-morte? Dolv-morte? Vold-morte?
Tom smiled. Carefully, he moved one last letter. Then he sat back and stared at the phrase he had written – his new identity.
I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.
Vol-de-mort, Tom sounded out silently. Lord Voldemort. He wasn't sure what sort of name that was, but it sounded like someone powerful. Someone those snooty pureblood kids would all be desperate to follow, not the other way around. Someone no one cared was poor and half-Muggle, because he was strong and commanding and fearsome.
He was through being ordinary, unfortunate Tom Riddle. One day soon, Tom decided, he was going to be Lord Voldemort.