AN: This is for CierraLuv's FanFiction Idol Round two : Our Song
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review :DDD
You had me at hello
Then you opened up your mouth
And that is were
It started going south
"Take a Hint" from Victorious
Darkness enveloped the little town as midnight approached. The night was at its darkest and no movement could be seen in the little town of Little Hangleton except for the occasional drunkard exiting The Hanged Man. Even mother nature seemed to know that tonight was not a night for light, as dark rain clouds shrouded the sky, completely obstructing any source of light that could be given by the stars and moon.
Suddenly the dark, still night was interrupted by a bright flash of light coming from the outskirts of the town. A young boy of sixteen was storming through the savage outskirts making his way towards the town. He was tall and handsome, with eyes and hair so dark that he might have blended in with the night if it weren't for his pale skin which seemed to have the opposite effect, making him glow in the obscure night. The handsome face wore an outraged expression and the boy's anger could be seen in his step, and the brute force he used to stomp the life out of every plant in his path. From the edge there suddenly came a rustle of leaves as a small rat stepped out onto the path. Tom faced the rat and pointed his wand at it.
"Crucio," he stated it so passively that any person listening in would have thought that there was nothing wrong.
That is until they saw the rat. On the floor. Writhing uncontrollably.
The rat continued in this way for some time, and Tom just stared at it with a calm expression on his face, whilst his eyes danced with amusement and glee. Finally, the rat stopped writhing, and it just sat there.
Still. Dead.
Tom kicked the rat out of the way and just continued on his way. He was a bit less angry than before. He recounted what had just happened in the little shack not too far off from where he stood now...
He had ended up in the town of Little Hangleton in hopes of finding some more information on his parentage. He knew he was a direct descendent of Salazar Slytherin, as he had just recently opened the Chamber of Secrets and successfully rid the wizarding community of a fair amount of vermin Mudbloods that went to the school. A smile came to his lips as he recounted how he had successfully fooled all the professors into thinking that the stupid oaf Hagrid was responsible. What gullible idiots. He knew that a man by the name of Marvolo Gaunt, his grandfather, lived in this shack, and he hoped to find him and acquire more information about his father.
However, upon finding the badly kept shack, which he had trouble believing housed a wizard of such great lineage as Salazar Slytherin, he found no Marvolo. Instead there was a parstletongue speaking man who seemed to be more of a brute beast then anything. It was to Tom's horrible surprise that he learned that this man was his uncle Morfin. Tom was disgusted at being related to such useless, stupid, repulsive, wizards, but when the man who he called uncle almost attacked him, waving his wand and knife threateningly, spewing insults to his face, going as far to call him Muggle he burst. Tom quickly pulled out his own wand and shot a curse at his uncle who staggered back in surprise.
"I guess you ain't that filthy Muggle then eh," was what the brute responded when he regained his balance, "Could 'ave fooled me. You look an awful lot like him."
Tom had simply looked doubtingly at the man,... he wasn't making any sense, "What Muggle?"
"The big filthy, stealing, Muggle Riddle, 'e lives in the big house over the way." Tom had looked at the man dumbfounded. Riddle. That was Tom's last name. But he couldn't be son of a muggle. What a preposterous idea!
"How is he a thief?" He had asked hoping to gain more information on the man who could very well be his father.
"He and my good-for-nothing sister stole the locket! and then he left her! Serves her right for getting in with a Muggle. Where is it? Where's the locket boy?" Morfin had again stepped forward to attack Tom, but he, in his anger at finding out his fathers identity, stunned him, sending him flying backwards towards the farthest wall, which he hit with a tremendous force.
It can't be. My father can't be a cowardly Muggle.
But it was true. It made sense. Why there was no Tom Riddle in any of the Trophy cases, or Prophet articles he had searched. There was no trace of Tom Riddle in the wizarding world because there was no wizard by the name of Tom Riddle. Tom raged towards the unconscious body of Morfin at the other end of the room and gave him a violent kick. His body spazed in midair momentarily before coming down to the floor again. What a pathetic excuse for a man. He doesn't deserve to carry the name of Salazar Slytherin, much less to call himself a wizard. Tom bent down and took Morfin's wand from where it was still clutched in his hand. He also noticed an elegant black ring on his finger and took it off, putting it on one of his own. Then he stormed out of the shack leaving the brute beast on the floor...
The memory of the events caused the anger to flare up again inside Tom and he sent a slashing spell through the underbrush which lined the path. Morfin's wand felt foreign in his hands, and he would have much rather used his own, but the deed needed to be done with another's wand, and Morfin's served the purpose. Tom kept making his way through the path, releasing his anger through Unforgivables on rodents who dared to cross his path. By the time he reached the city he was much calmer, but still very infuriated, however, now instead of lashing out on someone, he bottled it up and stored it for what was to come.
Tom easily found the "big house over the way" and he could tell from the mere outer appearance of the house that the Riddles where prominent figures in the town. The street was completely dark as the whole neighborhood slept soundly in their beds, taking their safety for granted. Tom chuckled at their false sense of security. Muggles and their stupid ideas. Tom headed towards the back door and opened it easily with an Alohamora. He stepped into the house and was met by elegant appliances everywhere.
This is what I could have had if that filthy cowardly Muggle hadn't abandoned me.
Tom was infuriated by all the luxury. All this time he had thought that his father had been this great wizard, who had died doing some great noble deed. He had been forced to live in that pathetic orphanage, mingle with stupid children, and face the insults of being a parentless child, being forced to know and hide his obvious superiority. And all the time his father lived. Not only that, but was of a wealthy family. Tom couldn't take it anymore. The anger was too much. He took out Morfin's wand and sent slashing spells at all the furniture and pictures he could. Upon completely ruining the beautiful upholstery he was able to get a hold of himself and continued on in his task.
He started heading for the stairs, but coming down to take a look at what was causing all the ruckus was an old man. He looked at Tom with a confused expression on his face.
"Tom?" The old man barely had enough time to spit the question out when Tom finished him off. The old man's body made a loud thump as it hit the stairs.
Still. Dead.
Tom simply stepped over the old man's body and continued up the stairs. When he reached the top of the stairs he turned into the hallway that he hoped led to the bedroom he was looking for. Halfway down the hall a door opened. Tom stopped dead in his tracks. An old lady with her hair in rollers poked her head out of the door.
"Thomas?" she looked around and looked right into Tom's eyes. She saw him and gave him the same exact look the old man had before he died. Her stare softened and a look of recognition seemed to cross her face. Then Tom took out his wand and a flash of green spurted from the tip and hit the old lady straight in the face. She had just enough time to change her expression to shock until she fell to pile on the floor.
Still. Dead.
Tom stayed in front of the old lady's body and just stared at her. Did she recognize him? No that was impossible. They didn't even know that he existed. Tom brushed it off and continued walking down the hall. He finally reached the end of the hall and looked at the only remaining closed door. He took a deep breath, letting his rage completely fill him. He reached a hand to the doorknob and opened it slowly, feeling the cold steel against his equally cold hands. He stepped into the room and slowly made his way towards the sleeping figure on the bed. He thought about what to do next. He wanted to savor every moment, wanted to savor ruining the life of the man who ruined his.
He stood over the bed. Waiting. He hoped that the man would stir and notice a strange presence over him. He wanted to scare the man. Make him feel like the end was coming. But keep him alive. Torture him. Make him beg for his life. He wanted the man to suffer. Suffer for all that he had caused him.
Finally, the man stirred and turned to face Tom. He slowly opened his eyes then upon seeing him standing there scuttled to the far edge of the bed, taking up the covers to protect himself. Then he really saw Tom. Saw his face. Recognized him. That's when fear really took over him. He nearly fell off the bed trying to get away from him.
"Who - who are you?" he stuttered almost as quiet as the silence.
"Don't you recognize me?" Tom shot back a wicked grin spreading across his face, "No, I guess not, how could you know me? You ran. Away. When. I. Wasn't. Even. Born." With each word Tom sent a slashing spell towards a random item in the bedroom. Old Tom was now completely terrified, so much that a small pool had started to spread around him on the bed.
"Please - please - I was young. Don't hurt me," the weak whimper made Tom laugh. Then he noticed it. A picture that had fallen to the floor in all the commotion. Tom slowly went over to it, always keeping the wand pointed at his father. He kicked the shattered glass that surrounded it, and knelt to pick it up. There starring back at him was himself. Though not really. This was very obviously Tom Sr. He was much younger in the picture, probably not much older than Tom was now. He wore fine clothes and was surrounded by his parents in a loving hug. All of them where smiling.
"Huh, I guess we share a lot of things. Looks, name. But we are not the same at all." Tom turned to face the man who had created him. He looked pathetic on the wet bed, shivering from utter complete terror.
"Tom, please," Tom Sr. whispered to his son. Looking at him. Begging for mercy.
"I'm not Tom. Not anymore." He pointed the wand straight at his fathers face, enjoying every last bit of this. He finally let go of all his anger and said the spell that he had become so skilled at in the last couple of hours.
"Avada Kedavra." The spell hit Tom Sr. straight in the face, and the look of complete and utter fear never left his face. And now it never would. He fell of the bed and hit the floor.
Still.
Dead.
And the boy just walked out of the house as if nothing had happened. Feeling as good as he had ever felt. He returned the wand to Morfin and altered his memory. Now when they came looking for the killer, they would find a man admitting to the crime. No one would ever know of Tom Riddle killing his family.
Because Tom Riddle no longer existed.
Now he was just a boy.
A boy who should have been rich as a Lord.
A boy who will never look as pathetic as his father did when he was about to die.
A boy who would one day be feared by everyone.
A boy who from now on would be Lord Voldemort.
I know you might be wondering how this fits the stanza, so here's how it works: You had me at hello (this is first meeting, tom was in love with his father at first cause he thought he was wizard) then you opened up your mouth (when you get to know that someone, learned that his father was a muggle who abandoned him) that is where it started going south (the knowing was his final push towards the dark side). Hope you like it :) Don't forget to review:D