Mrs. Cole, the matron of Wool's Orphanage, strolled up and down between the tables of the dining room. It was lunchtime, and all the children were seated, quietly eating bowls of alphabet soup and plates of toast. Everything was calm and orderly, just as Mrs. Cole liked it.
She passed by a group of five-year-olds, all of whom were playing happily in their soup, floating the letters around to form words. One boy was sitting a little off to the side, and his alphabet letters were on his empty plate. Mrs. Cole bent over discreetly to watch him. The boy poked the letters together with his fork, spelling out 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'.
"Clever boy!" Mrs. Cole praised him. "You spelled out your name all by yourself?"
The boy gave her a baleful look. The matron gave him another smile and moved off. The boy began to poke the alphabet letters again.
"I," he muttered. "Am... Lord..."
He thought for a moment, and then smiled. It wasn't a smile one would expect to see on a boy of five- indeed, not on a boy of twelve. He poked the last letters into place, his eyes gleaming with visions of renown and dreams for the future as his lips formed the last word.
"Voldemort."