A/N: Just to let you know, I always write my notes at the end. This is just the start to the story and I feel the need to explain a few things. Ms. Rowlings said the reason Tom Riddle was so evil was the manipulative nature of his parents' union. This would have changed had Merope lived and raised him. However, that raises the question, what would happen in Tom Riddle Sr. raised him? Besides a few details, I am hoping to keep this fairly cannon. The only thing that should change would be his time at the orphanage. That's the foundation on which I'm writing this. Do enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They are the creation of Ms. J.K. Rowlings. I do own the plot though... sort of.

It was a lovely April day in Little Hangleton. A warm breeze blew across the well-trimmed gardens of the Riddle Manor. The noise of travelers on the street in their coaches and the very occasional motorcar did not reach this high on the lawn, so the air was only permeated by chirping birds and the musical sound of child's laughter. Little Tom was just around the corner of the house, but Tom couldn't see him yet. He paused to inspect the bushes Frank had just clipped. He was new and still made mistakes at times. However, as he starred over the slightly crooked hedges, his mind was five years in the past, one New Year's Day in a cold London orphanage.

She'd died the night before, Merope, his former wife. Eight months prior, her enchantment on him had lifted and he'd turned her away, not knowing of the heir she'd carried inside her womb. He'd returned home to his confused and outraged parents to seek their hesitant forgiveness. It seemed life would be able to move beyond that mistake in his life, but report soon reached him of a child, and so he'd tracked her down, and not a moment too soon. The director, Mrs. Cole, was pleased to see him, announcing the birth of his son, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Naturally, he would have expected her to carry on his name, she had been obsessed with him. Too bad the middle name had to carry on her father's name. He would have much preferred to name him after his grandfather, Nicholas, but who was he to refuse a dying woman's wish? As he looked at the silent infant, he felt no love for the child. The association with his freak mother tainted that, but he was proud and refused to let a Riddle be raised in this slum. He took the child home much to his parents' protests.

Back in the present day, he continued around the corner to find his five year-old son playing in the grass. Several rocks were flying in front of him. Tom froze for a moment, shocked at this sight. He had hoped that Little Tom's eyes would be the only trace of his mother and that her unnatural ways would skip him. He'd suspected for awhile they hadn't, but perhaps with the right direction, Little Tom would never have to know about this. As it was, he knew almost nothing about the woman who gave him life. His senses quickly came back to him and he called out Tom's name sharply. As Little Tom looked up, the rocks fell to the ground.

"Daddy!" the small child cried in unparalleled joy at seeing his father. Tom's face split with a smile. It took time, but he had come to love his son unconditionally. "Look what I can do!" He turned back to the rocks, which started to twitch, but Tom quickly grabbed them.

"That wasn't you. It was... the wind," he lied. He was still young enough to believe everything he was told. Little Tom looked mildly crestfallen, but perked back up instantly.

"Guess what?" Tom asked playfully. Little Tom was very intelligent and loved guessing or strategy games. The boy thought for a moment, but couldn't think of anything. "Cecilia and Freddy are coming over for lunch today." But instead of the enthusiastic response he expected, the child's brows knitted together and his lower lip pouted out. "What? I thought you liked Freddy?" Little Tom shook his head.

"I like Freddy... a little bit. He's not very smart. I don't like Miss Patterson," he mumbled. The small box in Tom's pocket became painfully obvious. Cecilia Patterson, his long time girlfriend, had agreed to take him back after years of dignified pleading. His elopement had caused quite the scandal, but she eventually overlooked that. Now, he wanted to make her part of the family. But his son had to be comfortable with this too.

"Why don't you like her?" Little Tom shrugged.

"She tells lies about me and my mother. Freddy told me and I heard her at that party in the city. People shouldn't tell lies," he declared in a tone too mature for his age.

"No, they shouldn't. And I hope you're not now. What did Freddy say she said?" He shrugged again.

"That Mother was poor, and tricked you into marrying her, and that she was a... a... loose woman." Tom's fist was wrapped in a death grip around the rock. He never told Tom about his mother and he didn't want anyone ruining his son. Tom Riddle Jr. would not be tainted by his mother's memory. He would grow up proud of his heritage. "What does that mean? How can someone be loose?"

"You're too young, but don't listen to her. She won't bother us again," Tom promised. "Now, go get cleaned up and tell Grandmother that I won't be here for lunch." With a quick hug, the small boy ran inside. Tom watched the rock fall to the ground and then abruptly stood to head for the stables. No one crossed Tom Patrick Riddle.

XXXXXXXXX

The Patterson Estate was just across the village, a solid fifteen minute ride. Being the high class, well-bred young man he was, Tom managed to put on a happy face as he banged the heavy brass knocker. Cecilia answered in a light-pink day dress. It was apparent that she was still in the process of getting ready, but couldn't resist seeing him. He had to admit, he was quite good looking and anyone would be hard pressed to ignore him.

"Tom! I didn't expect you to be here," she greeted him, offering him her hand. He obligatorily kissed it and gave a smile that did not reach his green eyes, not that she noticed. Her icy heart was quickly melting in his presence.

"No, I had a change of heart. Could we go for a walk... privately?" She gave the smallest of gasps, her smile growing wider, as she misinterpreted his intentions. Well, to give her credit, he had planned on proposing to her today, but not now.

"Of course. Is Tom with you? My brother just left. Freddy's right upstairs if he wants to go up," she offered charmingly. He assured her Tom was at home, allowing her to excuse herself to fetch her shoes and parasol. Two minutes later, they were heading down to the forest behind her house. They made small talk as they reached the river. At first, it was to keep up the appearance of looks. It would not do to have the common villagers see members of the upper class arguing, especially if one of them was a woman. Finally, they reached a point where he felt they were truly alone.

"Cecilia, I must ask you a very grave question, and I warn you not to lie to me," he interrupted her. She appeared confused, but not being the most intelligent of creatures, assumed he was teasing her and her eyes glittered with anticipation.

"Of course Tom! You may ask me anything," she breathed.

"What have you been saying about my son specifically in regards to his mother?" The glimmer died and she took a step back. Now she saw that he was truly angry and it was a frightening sight.

"Tom, you must understand how everyone sees him. A child, born to a seductress, it's just unfit. No one blames you... men have their weaknesses, but is it really necessary to keep him? You'd be better off without him," she mumbled. He had demanded honesty, and she wouldn't refuse him anything. His anger with her rose exponentially and he couldn't resist shouting.

"Don't you ever talk about my son like that! He's a thousand times higher than you are!" he tore her down. It was a complete slight, and tears stung her eyes.

"I'm sorry Tom. I swear, I'll never say a word about it again. It was a mistake. Please forgive me," she asked.

"Never. You've insulted my family. But you're right. If you know what's good for you, you'll never speak in such a manner again," he snarled. She began crying and grabbed his hand as she fell to her knees, keeping him from walking away.

"No, please, don't do this. Don't leave me Tom. Please, I love you!" Those words took him far away.

'What are you doing here? Where am I?' he asked, his head fuzzy. The beggar's daughter-what was her name- Merope, was standing before him, but she didn't look as he remembered her. She was cleaned up, wearing fine clothing and a ring upon her wedding finger... as was he.

"Tom, my love, you've been under a spell for a long time, but it was only to make you realize my true potential. Now, I cannot image it's necessary," she beamed. Instead of answering his questions, he simply found more.

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't remember? We've been married now for four months. I guess this may be a side effect of the potion. I don't know. I never had formal schooling," she confessed. Tom was dumbstruck. He married her? And what did she mean by potion? He refused to ask about the marriage outloud, to make it real, so he asked after the second bit of information.

"What do you mean 'potion?'"

"I... I was waiting to tell you this later, but... I'm a witch." It took a moment for the words to sink in, but as she reached to place a hand on his shoulder, he jerked away, stumbling backwards.

"Don't touch me!" he shrieked. Tears filled her grey eyes, but he didn't care. "You're a witch? And I married you!" he yelled, trying to put this into sense.

"Y-yes Tom," she chocked out, trying to fight the sobs that were threatening to escape her throat.

"But I didn't know about this? You... enchanted me?" he asked less loudly.

"Just to help you see is all!" she cried. The first bit of relief filled him since he'd... awoken?

"Then it's not legal! We're not actually married."

"No Tom! Don't do that! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you yet." She came towards him, but he moved away again towards the door.

"Stay away from me witch! I want nothing to do with you. Don't find me or my family!" He turned to leave, but she grabbed his hand, falling to her knees.

"No please, don't do this! Don't leave me Tom. Please, I love you." He yanked his hand away and nearly ran down the hallway. She shouted something after him, but he didn't listen. He didn't care.

It was only now, after all these years, that he finally realized what she'd shouted after him. What about our child? He'd only had mind to escape at that point. He'd almost ruined his dear son's life in his anger. A feeling of complete rage rose in his chest as he stared down at Cecilia: rage at Merope for tricking him, rage at himself for not listening, and rage at her for making him realize this. Unable to control himself, his hand connected hard against her face, sending her flying away. Now feeling the full hurt of being scorned, Cecilia came running at him, hitting him weakly with her fists. He thrust her away from him, using far more force that was necessary. Cecilia stumbled backwards towards the steep bank and tripped over a root. She rolled down into the swift spring current of the river. Tom ran after her, but she was pulled away too quickly. He imagined that if he jumped in after her, he could probably save her, but that would be dangerous to his health and would leave his son an orphan. After all, she was no one truly important. He watched her float downstream until she finally sank under the cold water. It wasn't what he'd planned, but he'd made good of his promise to Little Tom. She would never bother him again.

He returned to the manor and called the police to report the incident. He concealed the reason they'd been down there. He told them they'd gone down so that he could propose to her, offering the ring as evidence, and that she'd tripped in her excitement. He was honest about trying to save her though. The police gave him their sympathies, Mr. Patterson wished him farewell behind barely concealed tears. He wasn't guilty of anything. Life was good now. He could focus on raising his son right and making sure that nothing like this ever happened again.

A/N: Stay with me here. This chapter was more to set up the relationship between the Toms and give Tom Sr. a characterization outside of the brief picture in the book. I just cannot think he's a completely kind man. I picture him as being selfish and perhaps violent, though not murderously so. He does have a heart when it comes to his son, but still not the best of people. You'll see more of that. So what did you think? Please review. Constructive criticism is welcome.