Disclaimer: The characters and idea of this fan fiction come from the mind of J.K. Rowling
Summary: Little is known about Tom Marvolo Riddle (other than the fact that he was an orphan, disowned by his Muggle father). This is how I imagine young Lord Voldemort's life to have been.
A/N: I honestly don't know what prompted me to write a story about Tom Riddle. It seemed like it might be an interesting story… Admit it—you want to see the world from Tom's perspective…
The Tale of Tom Riddle
Chapter 1
June 6th, 1938
Sitting alone in a darkened corner reading, a raven-haired ten-year-old boy sat yearning to be one of the characters his book. The powerful wizard, Saruman, in his book, The Hobbit, left Tom enchanted.
The weeks passed slowly, the only thing for the young boy to look forward to being his eleventh birthday. Birthdays, though nothing extravagant, broke up the monotony of the boy's life.
The boy woke up on July 16th, his birthday, and smiled. Would anyone remember? Of course someone would, he answered himself, they always do. He began his usual routine: he got dressed, made his bed, and went to eat breakfast in the large dining room. Before he had reached the room, however, an ageless, plump woman by the name of Gwendolyn approached him.
"Tom, dear," she said, causing the boy to glance up, "You've received a letter. It was very curious—it is Sunday… there's supposed to be no post on Sundays. Oh, and happy birthday, dear. We're making spaghetti for dinner. Sue and I know it's your favorite."
Tom smiled his thanks as he took the letter from Gwendolyn's hand. He had never received a letter from anyone in his life. Indeed, there was really no one to send the letters. Tom's mother had died giving birth to him, and his father, whom he was named after, had refused to acknowledge Tom as being his son, a fact that had left Tom, who had spent his entire childhood living in an orphanage, angry on more occasions than one. However, it was thanks to the generosity of Gwendolyn and Sue that Tom had been able to survive these ten long years. Every year he had seen his best friends adopted by kind couples—torn between sadness at losing a friend, and jealousy at not being chosen instead.
However, Tom was determined not to let any unhappy thoughts ruin his birthday, or the joy of receiving his first letter. Hastily, Tom tore open the envelope, which looked to be made of extremely old paper, and was emblazoned with a crest Tom had never seen before—a large 'H' surrounded by a lion, snake, badger, and raven. What Tom read made his jaw drop.
'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
`~`~`
Headmaster: Armando Dippet
Dear Mr. Tom Riddle,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.
Yours sincerely,
Albus DumbledoreDeputy Headmaster'
He glanced up to look for Gwendolyn, but she was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, Tom's head was filled with questions: Is this just a prank? Is it just something to ruin his eleventh birthday? What does it mean, 'we await your owl'? Who are Dippet and Dumbledore? Thinking quickly, Tom rushed through the orphanage searching for Gwendolyn.
"Gwendolyn!" he called when he finally found her helping a young boy make his bed. "Do you have any idea what this is?" he asked waving the letter in front of him.
She shook her head as she finished pulling the covers to the head of the bed, then walked over to Tom, and read the letter. In a hushed voice she asked, "Who sent this to you?"
"I don't know… there was no address. Do you understand it?"
"No, of course I don't. Let's talk to Mr. McFarland." Mr. McFarland was the elderly owner of the orphanage, and tended to be particularly nasty towards the children. Tom shuddered, but conceded.
Gwendolyn rapped softly on Mr. McFarland's door to announce their arrival.
"Come in," he snapped.
"Sir," Gwendolyn said as the door snapped closed behind her, "Tom received a curious letter this morning. As you know, it's Sunday—Tom should have received no mail at all…"
"Let me see it then," Mr. McFarland said impatiently.
He read the letter a moment before looking at Tom with the utmost revulsion on his face. "I know what you're thinking. No, this is no hoax. A girl your age received a letter like yours nearly fifteen years ago. She went off to that school and came back every summer with such a look of superiority…" He drifted off for a moment before continuing.
"The only reason I let her go, and the only reason I shall let you go, is because that's one less mouth to feed."
Gwendolyn gaped in horror at the cruelty Mr. McFarland was bestowing on Tom. Sure, he was awful most of the time, but nothing compared to this.
Tom, however, seemed nonplussed. "So… she—er—liked it there?"
Mr. McFarland scoffed. "Of course she did! But don't expect me to pay for you, you little urchin. Marie, somehow, earned the money herself."
Tom suddenly felt hopeless. He had never had money; despite the fact his father's family was quite wealthy. "I hate being an orphan," Tom muttered below his breath.
"Don't worry about that, Tom," Gwendolyn consoled as she steered him out of the office. Once in the hallway, she bent until she was eye-level with Tom. She looked him in the eye and said, "Tom, I'm going to pay for you to go to Hogwarts. I've always reserved a place in my heart for you, and have often wished I could adopt you… However, my financial situation is… meager to say the least. My heart has broken so many times as I watched you live your lonely childhood in this prison. I just want you to have the chance to be happy."
Stunned, Tom couldn't speak. Finally, he was able to whisper, "Are you serious?"
"Yes," she answered, her eyes filling with tears. "When September 1st arrives, you shall be on that train with your classmates. Right now, let's concentrate on getting your supplies and preparing you for—for going away for months and months."
The next months left Tom so anxious with anticipation he could barely stand it. Mr. McFarland had told him and Gwendolyn where they could buy Tom's supplies, and they had gone to London and spent the day in Diagon Alley purchasing his materials. By mistake, the duo had happened upon Knockturn Alley, which captivated Tom as he gazed in the store windows, which showed darkened rooms filled with mysterious objects. After returning to the orphanage, Tom immediately immersed himself in reading the books of spells and history of magic he had purchased.
By the time August 31st rolled around, Tom knew nearly every spell by heart, and was feeling very confident in his abilities. He and Gwendolyn had spent the day stowing away his belongings in preparation for the train ride to Hogwarts. Mr. McFarland had told Tom, though reluctantly, how to reach the Hogwarts Express. I really do owe him some kind of thanks, Tom thought. When I come back for the summer holidays, I won't turn him into a toad, he decided, smiling bitterly.
On September 1st, Gwendolyn led Tom through the crowd as she pushed his trolley towards Platform 9 ¾. Upon reaching the barrier between platforms nine and ten, she was unable to control her tears. "Tom, dear, promise you'll write me every chance you get?"
"I promise," he said, hugging her reassuringly. "I'll be fine, I promise." Waving one last time, Tom walked directly at the wall, until he found himself facing a scarlet steam engine. In awe, Tom wheeled his trolley to a man who was loading the train, and then approached a compartment that looked empty.
"Oops… sorry about that," he apologized when he realized there were already two boys sitting in the compartment.
The tallest boy, thin with pale blonde hair, extended a hand to Tom and smiled, "Hello. I'm Letifer Malfoy. Is this your first year at Hogwarts?" he asked in a silky voice.
"Yes," Tom said, extending his own hand to grasp Letifer's. "Is this your first year, as well?"
"Yes, of course, I've known about Hogwarts my entire life. My father worked here for years as the potions master, but he quit after last year, which is really too bad—then I would have been guaranteed top marks in one class," he laughed, and Tom and the other boy joined in.
"This is my friend, Max Alton. Our fathers have been friends since they went to Hogwarts, so we've grown up together." Tom nodded to Max.
"What house do you think you'll be in, Tom?" Letifer asked.
"Er—house?" Tom replied, utterly clueless.
"Oh you weren't raised in a wizarding household?" Letifer asked, suddenly eyeing Tom differently.
"No… I mean, I've been in an orphanage all my life—my parents both died. My mum and dad were wizards, though," he lied, hoping against hope that at least some of that was true—after all, he really knew nothing about his parents. For all he knew, they could have been wizards.
The hours on the train passed pleasantly for Tom as he, Letifer, and Max talked to one another. Tom was happy in knowing that, for the first time in his existence, he wouldn't have to worry about his friends ever being taken away from him again.
Nevertheless, Tom was extremely anxious to get to Hogwarts and be sorted. After he had redeemed himself by explaining that his parents were, indeed, wizards, Letifer had proceeded to describe the four houses, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. When the time came that the train pulled to a stop and the Hogwarts students finally approached the massive building, Tom was wishing with all his might that he be sorted into Slytherin.
As the moment neared for first years to be sorted, Tom stood surrounded by nervous first years that kept telling each other what each individual must do to be sorted. Each tale became more horrific than the next.
"—My brother told me we have to face a dragon, and cut out its eye!"
"Oh that's just stupid! We have to turn the Headmaster into a sheep—I read all about it!"
Tom became nervous as he listened to the stories. Perhaps Letifer had been wrong in thinking that they only had to place a shabby old hat on their heads to be sorted…
Finally, the moment of truth arrived. A man with long, auburn colored hair and beard and piercing blue eyes ushered the first years into the large Great Hall, where they stood gazing, transfixed, as a hat, placed on a stool, began to shout a poem. When it had finished, and the applause had subsided, the professor with auburn hair cleared his throat, and gave instructions to the group.
"There are four houses at Hogwarts, each named after one of the founding witches or wizards: Goderic Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin. To be sorted, come forward, and place the hat upon your head, and it will decide where best to put you."
He pulled out a roll of parchment, and began calling names.
"ALTON, MAX!" Through the crowd, Tom saw Max swallow as he strode to the hat. After a moment, the hat called, "Slytherin!" and cheers erupted from a table near Tom.
After students had become Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins (Letifer Malfoy among them), the professor came to his name.
"RIDDLE, TOM!" Tom walked forward, not knowing what to expect. He carefully placed the hat on his head, and a little voice spoke in his ear.
"Ah… You've returned," the voice proclaimed.
"Er—returned?" Tom questioned softly.
"The blood of Salazar Slytherin flows in your veins. You must take advantage of this. Remember this knowledge. Embrace it. Indeed, you are destined for greatness—better be, SLYTHERIN!"
Relief swept over Tom as he walked to his friends, who were cheering as loud as any of the Slytherins.
When all the first years had finally been sorted, the headmaster, Professor Dippet, rose, trying to get the attention of the room. The professor with auburn hair silently raised a hand, and the room fell silent.
"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," Dippet said in an undertone. "Welcome to a new school year! I welcome all new and returning students warmly. There is but one item of importance we must discuss—due to an unfortunate event that occurred last year, the forest just outside the school grounds is strictly forbidden to all students. Now, please enjoy this meal, and have a pleasant first day of classes!"
Magically, the golden plates sitting on each of the long house tables filled with food. Tom hungrily began shoveling the food into his mouth, half-heartedly participating in Letifer and Max's conversation, still contemplating what the hat had whispered into his ear.
The next week was the best week of Tom's life. For the first time, he felt he could belong somewhere. Already, he was at the top of his class—the studying over the summer had paid off—and was adored by teachers and students alike
However, despite the joy he felt knowing that he wasn't just a kid in an orphanage anymore, Tom felt empty. Something about what the hat had said to him… The desire to know what the hat had meant by commanding him to "embrace" the knowledge that he was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin became over-powering. After nearly a month at Hogwarts, the sensation became totally over-whelming, and Tom decided he would spend every spare moment at the library learning anything and everything about Salazar Slytherin…
*~*~*
"Tom what do you think?" Letifer asked. "Tom? Tom! What are you doing? You've been reading for ages… I need help with this potions assignment."
Tom shushed him with a single glance and returned to the book he had been reading, Hogwarts, the Untold Story.
He had had little trouble wrangling the signed permission slip required to search through the restricted section at the library—Professor Dippet had relented as soon as Tom had requested permission to the usually-forbidden section of the library, and had asked no questions. After an exhausting search of the section, Madam Peck, the librarian, began herding students out of the library so she could close it for the night. As the time he had to search the library dwindled, however, the title of this story had intrigued him, and he hoped there would, indeed, be some pivotal information about Salazar Slytherin disclosed within its chapters.
However, as Letifer and Max continued their conversation while simultaneously raising their voices interval by interval, Tom found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on his reading material. He chanced a glance out the window, to see that the sky had turned a cold, mirthless gray color, and suddenly felt that finding useful information on Slytherin would be impossible. Indeed, how did he intend to know "useful information" when he happened upon it? With an exasperated sigh, Tom snapped the book shut.
"I'm going to bed," Tom said in an irritated voice.
Both Letifer and Max looked up at him in confusion, "Are you okay, Tom?" Letifer ventured.
"I'm fine!" Tom snapped, and began stalking away from the two boys left wondering the reason for his foul mood.
Fitfully, Tom tossed and turned in his bed surrounded by emerald draperies. His slumber was plagued with dreams and nightmares in which a disembodied voice whispered to him from the shadows of a cavernous room. On the floor, there lay coiled a hideous, massive snake, whose eyes seemed to bore into Tom's very soul. Slowly, the snake averted its eyes, and looked upward, behind Tom. Following its gaze, Tom found himself at the base of a colossal statue of a man. Instinctively, he knew the man to be none other than Salazar Slytherin.
Tom awoke with a start, shaking as he recalled the dream. The dream wasn't particularly frightening, except for the reality of it all. It seemed as though Tom was in a room within the confines of the castle… but why would there be an enormous snake hidden in the castle? Still wondering about his dream, he had an uncontrollable urge to read Hogwarts: The Untold Story. Feeling as though his legs were moving without the permission of his mind, Tom succumbed to the urge, picked up the heavy, leather-bound book and sat before the diminishing blaze of the common room fire. Flipping thoughtfully through the first few chapters, Tom came across a passage depicting the founding of Hogwarts.
"Hogwarts was founded in the mid-to late 900s (exact date unknown) by Goderic Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin in order to provide a school for magically-capable children in Britain. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin each valued different traits in young witches and wizards. After a few years of working in harmony with one another, these differences began to strain relationship between Slytherin and Gryffindor. While Gryffindor felt that any child with magical capabilities should be allowed the chance to attend Hogwarts, Slytherin felt that only children of wizarding parentage should be allowed to Hogwarts. Many fights ensued from these differences, eventually causing Slytherin to leave the school, but not without the threat that one-day his true heir would seek retribution. It is rumored that Slytherin built a secret room to be accessed by his heir alone. However, such a chamber is seemingly inexistent after the many thorough searches conducted throughout the centuries.
About the Founders:
Goderic Gryffindor is perhaps the most celebrated of all the founders…"
Tom scoffed, and searched until he found Salazar Slytherin's information.
"Salazar Slytherin has proven to be the most mysterious of all the founders. After a short time at Hogwarts, he abruptly left due to unknown circumstances (thought it is believed to coincide with he and Gryffindor's disdain for one another and their many differences), and appeared to have vanished from all records. However, there is scant information from his years teaching at Hogwarts.
One of the most interesting capabilities belonging to Slytherin was his ability to speak Parseltongue (See: conversing with snakes, chapter 38, page 361). Few witches or wizards posses this ability, but it is believed among many that the talent is found more commonly amid Dark witches and wizards.
Another of his legacies is the myth that he built a secret chamber without consulting Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff. Supposedly, the chamber contains a terrible monster that his heir could use as an instrument to finish the "noble task" of killing all Muggle-born students at Hogwarts. Though the idea has struck fear into the hearts of many magic folk, exhaustive searches of the castle have mostly likely proven the Chamber of Secrets to be a fabrication of some kind."
Tom sat staring at the book for nearly five minutes before the magnitude of what he had read had finally sunk in. The two points that had struck him the most were the fact that Slytherin had spoken Parseltongue (which proved to be especially impressive after he read the passage on page 361) and the idea of the existence of a Chamber of Secrets. As he imagined the chamber, a thought suddenly struck him—his dream! His dream had been in a forgotten-looking chamber in which stood a statue of Salazar Slytherin; there had also been a monster lying quietly on the stone floor…
A minute sound caused Tom's head to swivel in the direction of the doorway that lead to the dormitories. Slowly, the shadowed figure stepped into the dimly lit room, and Tom recognized him as Letifer.
Tom wanted desperately to tell him everything he knew and ask for his help and advise, but felt that he really needed to figure this out on his own.
"Hi Letifer," Tom said, nonchalantly, shifting the book so it would be out of his line of sight.
"Hi… What're you doing down here? It's the middle of the night."
"Well, I guess I couldn't sleep. Nightmares. I thought I would just sit in here until I calmed down."
"Mmm," Letifer said suspiciously. "Are you planning to go to bed soon? I could keep you company."
"Um, sure. I guess I am ready to go back to bed," Tom said, though he had hoped to read more of the library book. Deciding it might be best to learn about his parents before trying to solve the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets, Tom resolved to speak with Professor Dippet—he needed the truth.
*~*~*
"Excuse me. Professor Dippet?" Tom asked apprehensively. "May I speak with you for a moment?"
"Certainly, Tom. Please, follow me—we can speak in my office."
Once they had been seated in the headmaster's office, Professor Dippet spoke first. "What's on your mind, Tom?"
Not knowing exactly how to begin, Tom paused for a moment before answering, "It's about my parents, sir. I want to know about them."
Professor Dippet shifted uncomfortably. "Ah. Well, this is difficult, Tom. As you may or may not know, your mother, Eloise Evanly, was a witch. She fell in love with a man, Tom Riddle, from Little Hangleton. You father, however, didn't approve of your mother being a witch, and, most unfortunately, left her to live with his parents. Your mother lived just long enough to name you, but died afterwards."
"Oh. I knew my father was alive… I just—I just never knew why he didn't want me…" He trailed off and Professor Dippet gave him a sympathetic look.
"There, there, Tom," he attempted to console, but he seemed unsure of what to say next.
Tome lifted his chin slightly, determined not to seem weak. "But what about my other relatives? Is anybody on my mother's side alive?"
"I'm afraid there is no one. However, there is a witch I know who was acquainted with members of the Evanly family. Her name is Ethel Merriwyther. You may use a school owl if you wish to speak with her."
Nodding once, Tom took his leave. "Thank you, Professor, I think I may speak with her. Bye."
"Good day, Mr. Riddle."
To Be Continued…
Second A/N: Did anyone notice that Tom wished to be like Saruman (the powerful, good-turned-evil wizard in Lord of the Rings)?
Third A/N: Yes, well, more than a week after writing this, I realized that the Lord of the Rings Trilogy wasn't written until the fifties! Does anyone know if Saruman appears in the Hobbit, which was written in 1937? It's been too many years since I've read it for me to remember.