A/N-

The words in this fic are mine. The plot is mine. The characters, the locations mentioned and the sub plot is rightfully of Jk Rowling.

If there is anything from the books, it will be in italics and would also be the property of Jk Rowling.

The Birth.

Her hair was lank and dull and she had a plain, pale, rather heavy face. Her eyes stared in opposite directions. She looked like a bag of dirt and mud. People didn't acknowledged her presence, not that even she knew that she was going to change the future of these people who ignored her like a mote of dust.

She didn't carry the persona of someone important. She was what the fortunate called ugly and the unfortunate pitied. Like a walking corpse, neither seeing nor sensing anything or anyone around her, not even making a effort to smile to ease the air of uneasiness and the slow, churning creepiness that had engulfed her petite frame like a flame around wood.

The cold December air that pierced through even the warmest of coats didn't even make her flinch. She was walking through a bustling, old-fashioned London street. There was snow everywhere, but the woman didn't appear to be cold nor did she seemed to be caring for her unborn child. Her round belly was showing fully in her ragged, thin clothes. It didn't looked like she cared though, staring into the distance with no way or sense as to where she wanted to go. People around her were shivering but they were happy. Even in the chill of December, the happiness and joy flowing from people, was not absent. They were chortling; they were singing; there were kids playing with snowballs. She didn't looked like she belonged here, so what was she doing here? She didn't know and neither did anyone else.

"Miss!" a woman bellowed in her direction, the pregnant woman didn't seem to be hearing anything because she kept walking. Her dark eyes were two dark, hollow tunnels.

"Miss!" The woman had reached her. She didn't turn around just stopped in one place. The woman looked rich. She was blonde and her robes looked shiny new peeking out a little from her coat. "Miss! There is a storm coming. You shouldn't be walking out in this condition."

The ragged woman didn't seemed to be hearing the other woman as she stared blankly, dumbly at the snow. "Miss! If you want I can bring you to your home? This isn't safe for you and your child," the woman bellowed as a particularly cold gust of air hit her making her hat fly away.

"Home..."she whispered. "I don't have a home."

"Well Miss, you should get inside! There is a storm coming! A snowstorm!" The woman said, but didn't get a response in return.

"Rose!" someone else called. The kind women- Rose, turned around, to see a man calling for her from a warm looking house. Two kids were waving at her near the window. Rose turned to face the pregnant woman again only to notice that she was watching her kids. Rose touched her shoulder to shake her out of it, finding it strange that the rugged woman was eyeing her kids as if she hasn't seen children before. But given the stranger's pregnancy, Rose thought the curiosity might be natural.

"Do you need food?" Rose asked her, but the girl just gave a little shake of her head. "You will be fine, Miss?" Rose asked again, recieving a dull nod as a reply. Rose finally walked away and the pregnant girl staggered ahead in her path, her feet numb from the snow. Several memories flew by her. Why had he left her? Didn't he loved her...His child? Had she fallen in love with such a shallow man?

But she shook her head. Tom wasn't shallow. She was. She had him under the spell, under magic. Curse that magic! Why did she even have that?. First her father, then her brother and then her husband. A tear leaked out from the corner of her eyes as she moved forward not knowing her destination.

Would this child hate her too?

The memories of her father who despised her because she couldn't use magic properly. Because her brother was a natural and she wasn't. Because her father refused to believe that his lowly daughter could be better than the heir of Salazar Slytherin, her brother, itself. She wasn't even offered education. She had longed for that bond with him that the other daughters had with thier father. Alas! It never happened and she was left to wonder what if's.

Would this child also be hopeless for her? Hate her for the magic she couldn't achieve?

Suddenly she felt a little pain in her belly and then her water broke. She struggled to maintain a composure and leaned against the nearest door she could find, caressing her belly with her hand when suddenly the door swung open against the weight of her fatigued body and she fell onto the ground.

A skinny, harassed-looking woman came scurrying toward her. She had a sharp-featured face that appeared more anxious than unkind, and she was looking at her with displeasure. But then her eyes moved towards her belly and she immediately shouted over her shoulder, "Madam Ella! There is a pregnant woman on the doorstep!"

"Why are you asking Cole? Get her inside!" came the reply came and Cole-the anxious woman asked-the pregnant girl to sit up, but she couldn't.

The girl screamed as the pain grew and Cole called some more women from the dingy old house and they brought her inside. She couldn't pay attention to what they were saying through the blinding pain. All she did was scream for an hour and take heavy breaths as an older women instructed her, while she waited for the pain to end.

All of her worries and pain paid off after an hour when she heard him cry. It was a boy. She had wanted a boy. The old woman-Ella-brought the baby to her and she felt something die inside her and live at the same moment. She looked at the baby in her lap. Unlike most babies she'd seen, he looked calm.

"What's your name child?" The older women asked her, kindly.

"Merope Riddle," she gave a whispered reply as she couldn't feel the energy to raise her voice.

"Do you know you are at an orphanage?"

Merope didn't but she nodded,"I want him to be named Tom... after his father..."

Madam Ella looked distressed as she turned around where Cole was standing, eying her strangely.

"But why? You can name him yourself," Cole soothed her.

"I can't," she said. For some reason Merope knew she wouldn't be able to. "And his middle name should be, after my father, 'Marvolo'...His surname is Riddle.."

Merope felt herself slipping away as she looked at him. She could just feel it was her last time seeing him. Is this how dying felt? She could feel her legs losing energy and going still, she moved a little to kiss the forehead of her baby.

"I hope he looks like his father..."Her breath hitched, her heart gave one last beat and then everything went black.

Author's note- So this will be a one shot series on the man Who-didn't-had-a-nose and could not be named even by half the wizarding community. That is in this, Harry Potter, world. The man who single handedly took over the wizarding world. I will try to live up to a readers expectations. I can't guarantee. If you want to share any special fact about our dear Voldemort better known as You-know-who you can, in the reviews.

Beta credits- Whirdart.