I read the chapter in HBP recently where Harry goes into the first memory, and also just watched GOF, which got me to thinking of Tom Riddle, when he killed his father. So I wrote this. Read, Review, and enjoy.
Disclaimer: Although I love it very, very much I do not own Harry Potter.
Revenge
Tom Riddle made his way from the house of his Uncle, his face set. All these years he had belived that his father, his namesake had been the one with magical blood. How could it have been otherwise? If his mother was really a witch why did she die? Why did she leave him there, in the orphanage, alone, when she could have survived? When she could have used magic to save herself? His anger boiled up for his mother's betrayal. She had abandoned him when she could have lived. She didn't want him. He didn't need her.
And his father. A muggle. He was named after a muggle. A muggle and a man who didn't even deserve to be titled as heir of Slytherin. It was discusting. But Marvolo was dead, and Morfin would get what he deserved. And so would his father.
Tom Riddle. The very name revoled him now. For years he had revered the name. The name he believed connected him to the wizarding world. But then he had learned the truth. Tom Riddle Senior was nothing more than a muggle. A muggle who had abandoned him and his mother. A muggle who didn't care enough to even bother to wonder what had happened to his son. But he would know. Soon, he would know.
He stopped when the mansion came into view and smiled. But it wasn't like the smile he used at school, to make the teachers love him, his friends adore him. His face became ugly, wild with revenge as he looked upon the house of his father, and his father's father. Muggles. It made him sick.
Determined, he crossed the large yard, making his way to the house. The anger he felt was beginning to lessen as he realized that his revenge was coming soon. This made him happy. Happier than he had ever been before. It consumed him, took over him, until there was only one thought in his mind. His father would pay. He would pay for what he had done, he would pay for who he was.
He would make sure of that.
He stepped up to the door and pointed his wand at the lock. The door flew open, revealing a long corridor, a light shining from a room to the left. Noiselessly, he walked inside, the door closing behind him. He walked toward the doorway and, stepped into the light.
Three people sat at the table, eating. Two looked older, like they had lived many days. The third was younger than the two, and very hansome. He knew right away he was in the right place. His own face was almost the exact of Tom Riddle Senior. This realization made him even angrier, as he fingered Morfin's wand. The older man looked up and jumped slightly. The woman and younger man looked up as well, looking confused. They all stood up, to confront him.
"Who are you?" Demanded the older man, his Grandfather, "What are you doing in my house?"
He laughed, a cold, hard laugh. "Don't you recognize me?" He asked, harshly. The old man opened his mouth to say something else, but paused, as he suddenly looked closer and saw his son's face in the stranger's.
The youngest Tom Riddle laughed once more, turning to his father. "And you, don't you recognize me?"
Tom Riddle Senior stared at him in confusion, not understanding how this could be, how this stranger could be so much like himself.
"I assume you remember my mother? Merope Gaunt was her name. You left her before I was born. You left me." He said, harshly. Tom Riddle's face turned from one of confusion to one of understanding, and amazement.
"I didn't-I didn't know-"
"Don't lie to me, father. You knew very well that she was pregnant, yet you left her anyway. You left her, and she left me."
"Please, I'm sorry, I'm so-what is your name?" He looked distressed. This pleased him.
"Tom. Tom Riddle. She named me after you. A muggle, and you're muggle father." He spat, the anger building up once more.
"Tom-"
"Don't call me that. I have no desire to be called by that muggle name."
"What-"
"You remember what she was, don't you?" At this Tom Riddle Senior's face grew white. He remembered. He remembered what Merope had told him, what she had shown him. And now this boy, her son, his son...he nodded, slightly, his face turning to one of fear.
"Yes-"
The youngest smiled once more, wild revenge contorting his face once more as he raised his wand.
"Good. Goodbye, father."
"No, please-!"
"Avada Kedavra!" With a flash of green light Tom Riddle Senior lay dead on the ground. His mother shrieked and ran to him.
"What have you done?" She demanded, shaking with shock.
"Nothing more than he deserved." Tom Riddle said, and with two green flashes his Grandparents fell, dead before they hit the ground.
As he left the house he heard a scream from within, and smiled at the woman's pain.
He was satisfied.
He was Lord Voldemort.