Before Harry found all seven of Voldemort's horcrux, and unknown to anyone else, The Dark Lord created an 8th and buried it in the body of a young boy, wandering the streets of a small town in England.
I Am Lord Voldemort
Her voluptuous body leaned down towards me. My desire was to stand up and swat her away; I did not need her pity. I was strong. But this body…
"Hello there deary, ye poor lad, ye're freezin'!"
I shrank away; as long as I was trapped in here, I had to act the part. Until I could make my body stronger, I had to lay low. I must force myself to swallow my pride.
"Come now, sweet. Don't be afraid o'me. I'll alp ye." The woman smiled kindly at the fragile little boy who's body contained me.
I had been careless. Foolish! I was in too much of a hurry to ensure I would survive if Potter or Dumbledore found and destroyed my other horcruxes that I did not take enough time to calculate the pros and cons of choosing to make this one the eighth.
He had been a muggle while he lived. A scrawny boy no older than ten with no father and a dying mother. He was an easy victim. I took his life.
"Avada Kedavra!"
I took pleasure in the fear that filled his eyes when I appeared, smirking and towering over him. I loved the way his lips parted gently to make a perfect little 'o' when I cast the spell. He did not scream.
He had been healthy. I had not considered the body would be so weak when I returned to it. I had not left it where it fell; I took it far away and buried it within a forest on the edge of a small country town with that little part of my soul trapped within.
The woman touched my arm tenderly, "Come on, darlin'. Ye'll freeze to death if I leave ye out 'ere. Let me take ye up ta the 'ouse." I allowed her to help me to my feet and she kept a firm grip around my forearm while we trudged towards a run-down shack up the road. "I'm Vanessa, but ye can call me Nessie. Everyone else does," she introduced herself.
I did not look up at her, part was out of disgust that a muggle was touching me and part was because I was trying to appear as scared as possible. I felt her gaze soften even more on me.
"What's ye're name, dear?" She gave my arm a little shake which in turn wracked my whole small body. Cursed is my luck. I won't be so foolish again.
I am Lord Voldemort.
But I couldn't tell her that. What if she had a witch or wizard relative? What if more about my world had leaked into the muggle world that I had realized. What if I was wrong to assume she was a muggle? I sensed no magic in her, but that was not to say that my senses were accurate within this worthless body. She could have been a Squib for all I knew.
What was my name? What was the name of the child whose body I was possessing? I did not know. I never stopped to ask. I never cared. But what would I tell this woman? I'd have to come up with something. People would become suspicious if I did not have a name.
I am Lord Voldemort.
We reached the house. Inside was heaven to my new body compared to outside. It was pleasantly warm, like sunshine. I cringed at that though; sunshine was too happy a thing for my liking. But compared to the frosty night I'd spent forever in, this was bliss.
The woman – Vanessa was it? – was talking to a man and gesturing towards me. I had stopped paying attention; the comfort of the house had distracted me. All of a sudden a bowl was thrust against my chest and I fumbled with my scrawny hands to grasp it before it fell. The porcelain was warm and tingled against my icy fingers and the soup it held smelt delicious.
I am Lord Voldemort.
I'd raised the edge of the bowl to my lips and threw my head back most ungracefully before I could stop myself and the comforting liquid filled me. It was intoxicating. I let myself fall back into a chair as Vanessa pushed it against the back of my knees.
"There ye go lovey, how's that feel goin' down? Ye're already getting some colour back into ye! Now don't that feel better?"
I resisted the urge to cringe as she put a slender-fingered hand atop my head and ran it along the top of my head.
I am Lord Voldemort.
"This is Jasper," she indicated sweetly towards the man she'd been speaking to earlier. "My husband. Jazz, I found this lil' one on the way home from Mary's. He was curled up on the side of the road. Thought he might 'ave already been dead but then he moved and I whipped him right up 'ere."
"Well how about that little fella?" Jasper smiled. "Nice to meet you. And what might your name be?"
I am Lord Voldemort.
I didn't answer him. What should I name myself for these people?
Jasper looked to his wife and I kept my eyes on my dirty little feet dangling over the edge of the chair.
"He 'asn't said a word to me since I found him," she shrugged.
I am Lord Voldemort. But I hadn't always been.
"Riddle." It came out as a breath the first time I said it, then a whisper the second time. They realized I was saying something the second time and both looked at me, waiting.
I am Lord Voldemort.
"Riddle." Finally it came out clear enough for them to hear.
This voice was too childish for me. I should have gone for someone older, someone stronger. A young man, mid to late teens, perhaps even early twenties.
I am Lord Voldemort.
"Riddle?" Jasper asked in confusion.
I nodded my head once.
"My name is Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle.
If you had been standing where Vanessa had found me a couple of hours later when I had regained much of my strength after being treated with food, drink, warmth and rest, you would have heard two people screaming and the lights in the run-down shack go out. Then through one window you would have seen a flash of green light and heard one voice disappear. Moments later you would have seen the same flash of green light through another window as the second voice was silenced. Last of all, you would have seen me walk out the front of the house, clean and warmly dressed and look down to the place where Vanessa had found me. And if you had been standing there…
"I am Lord Voldemort."
I would have killed you too.
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