Hey guys, JJ here with my second ever one-shot! … I was watching "A Very Potter Senior Year" on YouTube and I was up to the part were Dumbledore told Tom about him being a wizard, and even though he'd never ever really react the war he did in the musical, it got me thinking about Voldemort actually being a kid, once upon a time, and maybe even having a friend… And wrote this in legit the 10 mins after that thought entered my mind, so I Hope this is even good! Enjoy!
*I have actually put this up on ff before but for some reason you couldn't find it when it was searched for, you had to specifically go to my page.. Thank you to DiaryofTales for the super long review, it was great!*
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you may recognise from the books.
I listened to "Exits and Arrows" by Hillary and Stewart while writing this.
Tom Riddle wasn't always evil. There was a time –oh, it seemed so long ago –when he felt something other than hate. Something more than the iron taste of bitterness rested in his mouth. Something less than a monster gazed back at him from a reflective surface.
A time when he felt wonder, and friendship, and dare he say it, love.
...
"Are you getting adopted?"
Tom peeked out from under his bed, a place he sometimes went to think and be alone, a refuge of sorts, and looked up at the girl above him. She had her hands on her hips, and her curly red hair was tied into two pigtails, folded neatly over the shoulders of her slightly too large dress.
"Why would you think that?" Tom asked in response to her question.
Emma shifted her weight from one foot to another nervously. "Because. That man came to talk to you… And you were talking for a long time. Sarah said you were getting adopted."
"Sarah's a snot nosed brat who doesn't know what she's talking about, and should learn to shut her 7 year old mouth." Tom replied sharply, scrambling out from under his bed to face her.
"So you're not leaving then?"
Tom sighed and looked down.
"Oh." Sarah said, and Tom could hear the disappointment and sorrow laced in her voice.
"It's not forever." Tom hurriedly tried to assure her. "I'm not getting adopted, I'm just going to a school, a special school, for people with special abilities, like mine. People who understand."
"I understand!" She looked pleadingly into his eyes. "I do!"
"I know you try, but these people can help me. They can help me control all these special things I can do, so I can use them properly."
Emma's lower lip trembled before she slowly nodded. "You'll be back, though? You swear?"
"Of course I will, every holiday and summer, and I'll write every day! I swear it." He caught her gaze in his. "You believe me, don't you?"
Emma smiled and huffed. "Of course I do, Tom. I'll always believe you, no matter what the other kids or anyone else says."
Tom quickly brought her into a tight hug, closing his eyes and trying to fend off the guilt and shame welling up in the pit of his stomach. "I know you will."
...
Tom didn't go back for Christmas, or any holidays. He never wrote one letter. He went to Hogwarts, got sorted into Slytherin, and quickly adapted to a new way of life. A better way, he constantly asserted himself, a way that will one day ensure him greatness.
When he was finally forced to go back to the orphanage, when summer holidays began, Emma was not there. She'd been killed in a hit and run, near Kings Cross Station, at Christmas. The day Tom was supposed to arrive back. She'd ran away from the orphanage when Mrs. Brown had refused to take her, and had spent all the money she'd saved up in her life on two bus tickets there, a connecting route. When she'd been hit, it was dark and the driver was drunk. She'd waited there, at the train station, all day. He never showed up.
That was the last day Tom Riddle ever felt anything close to remorse in his entire life.
...
Just then Severus, his ever faithful servant, entered the shack, pulling him from thoughts of the past.
"Ah, Severus, you are here." Voldemort said silkily.
"Yes, my Lord, but should I not be getting back?" Severus replied confusedly.
"No. There is something that needs to be done, first." The Dark Lord said, his eyes gleaming.
Severus seemed to sense that something was wrong and took a step back.
"But, my Lord, their resistance is crumbling-"
"-And it is doing so without your help," said Voldemort in his high, clear voice. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there… almost."
FIN
AN: Sooo, what did you guys think? I've never ever written or even thought about Voldemort having any sort of feeling or anything like that, so I hope I did ok... Please R&R! No unnecessary flames! Constructive criticism is welcome! Again, I really hope this was ok!
That very last part was from the Deathly Hallows book written by J.K. Rowling. I have no claim on it.