Disclaimer: I do not own anything… except the weird characters.
Tom Marvolo Riddle - Unmasking the Dark Lord
*Prologue
Tom Riddle waited patiently, lying awake in his bed. Tonight was Joanne's night to check in on the orphans, making sure they were all sound asleep in their beds, and Tom, being a favorite of hers, was determined to get his answers.
He heard the door slowly creep open and turned over, looking directly at the tired old woman standing in the doorway. As he had expected, she sighed and walked quietly over to his bed.
"Shouldn't you be asleep by now, Tom?" she whispered softly to him.
The little boy just shrugged in reply, so she continued, "Are you feeling alright? Can I get you anything?"
"No, I'm fine." He responded keeping his voice low and even. "I was just thinking… about my parents."
At this the older woman closed both her eyes and sighed deeply. Tom fought back a smile, keeping his face disinterested and thoughtful. She had caved. Joanne would tell him everything, just as he had known she would.
"They all do at some time or another." Joanne mumbled, more to herself than to Tom. As she took the seat beside his bed, Tom turned on his side and propped his head up with his arm, waiting for the story, his story, to unfold. Taking a deep breath, Joanne began her story.
"Where to begin… firstly, know this, I do not know everything, just what I have experienced myself. About eleven years ago, your mother arrived here, looking extremely worn out and weary. It was clear she was underfed and struggling with each breath just to stay alive. We ushered her in and no sooner had she gotten through the door, she went into labor. Our nurse at the time was a young girl… Sarah was her name. Very pretty girl, she was. I wasn't quite so old myself." She started to drift off. Tom restrained himself from rolling his eyes, hoping she would get back to the point without having to interfere. "Anyway, she helped deliver you. Your mother insisted that you be named Tom Marvolo Riddle. Tom Riddle, she said, after your father, and Marvolo, after your grandfather. She asked us to take care of you, but could not hold out for much longer and she died not long after giving birth to you." She finished her story to silence.
"And my father? What about him?" Tom's voice broke the silence. The anger he concealed so well from his voice flashed in his eyes, but Joanne didn't notice this in the darkness of the room.
"I don't know, Tom." The old woman replied sympathetically. "All I know is what your mother told me, that his name was Tom Riddle, and that, supposedly, you look a lot like him."
With this said, they both sat completely still for a few silent seconds. Realizing she was done with her story, and that she could tell him no more, Tom turned over, without another word, to face the other direction.
In the silence Tom could hear the chair creek as Joanne stood up and slowly walked away from him. She stopped in the open doorway and looked back on the little boy one last time.
Tom could see her shadow being projected unto the wall in front of him by the light from the hallway. He saw her pause, and knew she was giving him that sad, pitying look she gave all the orphans when she thought they weren't looking. He could practically feel her gaze boring into the back of his head. He knew she pitied him like she pitied all the others.
For the second time that night Tom Riddle's eyes flashed in anger. He didn't like being pitied. It was a weakness, and Tom Marvolo Riddle was not weak.
A/N- so this is pretty short but please read and review!!! I'm not sure whether I will continue with this so the more reviews the more likely I'll continue it!