They say that Lord Voldemort knew nothing of love. He was destined not to succeed in his sinister mission because he did not understand this basic human emotion. He may have thought that he had all the power in the world on his side and that nothing could stand against him. But he did not have the power of love. His downfall was to be the one thing in the entire world he had never experienced.
As an orphan, he never even had the chance to experience the loving touch of a mother. So unloved was he that even his own mother turned her back on his tiny infant form. Oh how he must have cried out for her love, her attention and how cruelly he was faced with rejection before he could even understand what that was. Was it ever any wonder how he turned out to be such a loveless creature of hatred?
For all the potential glory or condemnation, none ever claimed to be the personal lover of the Dark Lord. Amongst his Death Eater followers none of the women could boast of knowing him in the most intimate of ways, and if they ever did, it was certain to be discovered as a lie. Even dear Bellatrix Lestrange, his favourite pet of had never claimed to have knowing him in such a way. Simply, he was a solitary man by nature and his isolated childhood had certainly not helped him in that department. He never felt the compulsion to be constantly at the side of another person. Or at least that was how it had seemed to those who surrounded him in the Inner Circle.
No, no one ever thought that Lord Voldemort could be a creature of love and compassion. He was after all, a master of occlumency. He was a master at keeping his more carnal feelings close to his chest, not that anyone had ever dared to get close enough to ask him.
There was only one who had seen deep into the heart of Lord Voldemort and spied into the depth of his soul. When Lord Voldemort was still a young boy by the name of Tom Riddle he met the one person who changed his life forever. This person was the man who had rescued him for his squalid existence inside a muggle orphanage. The orphanage was a frightful place which had been hell on earth for the small boy with extraordinary abilities. The wondrous abilities that young Tom possessed made him feared by his fellow orphans and frightened away any potential new families in a heartbeat. Just when Tom had begun to think that this was all life could offer him, his saviour appeared. Albus Dumbledore came into Tom's life and turned it on its head by taking him from the orphanage and into the long halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Tom's hero worship of Albus slowly turned into something a lot darker than expected. Tom became consumed with thoughts of the Hogwarts professor and he felt a constant need to prove himself to be superior to the cattle he was forced into class with. If he was to become noticed in the school of thousands then he had to be the best, the brightest, the most important. Each move Tom made was always motivated by that selfish desire. His mornings consisted of thinking of ways to make his presence known to the professor. Tom soon came to realise that this obsession with being noticed by Albus was vastly different to mere Slytherin ambition. Once he discovered what the deeper feelings meant he sought to stamp them out and fast. He threw himself into the Dark Arts in an attempt to distract himself from his buzzing thoughts. He pretended like he didn't care that Albus disapproved of his choice of reading material. His love of the Dark Arts helped fuel the hatred he felt for his filthy muggle father and provided him with his ultimate direction in life. He had great plans, terrible but great plans for the world. He would see that the muggle filth of his father and his kind would never again taint the wizarding world. These dark thoughts managed to keep Tom's louder thoughts from obtaining a voice and he was able to graduate just as he had planned. No one was any the wiser as to whom he would one day become.
Hogwarts was the only real home that Tom had ever known and yet he did not shed any tears when he left, unlike his fellow classmates who managed to thoroughly embarrass themselves with streaming tears and red blotchy checks. Tom never intended to be gone for long enough to really miss the place he secretly called home. His plans involved returning to Hogwarts as a professor and the sooner he left the sooner he would return. Of course Tom told himself over and over again that his need to return was detrimental to his greater plan. It had nothing to do with the burning need to be with Albus in the position as an equal. To finally gain respect from the man he so admired – amongst other darker feelings. But Tom was far too intelligent to be fooled by his own tricks; such is the curse of those rare few who are as talented as he.
Finally the opportune time for Tom to make his return to Hogwarts came around. Now that the Defence Against the Dark Arts position was vacant he could become professor and slowly influence the students around to his way of thinking. To make things even easier for Tom he knew that Albus was now filling in the position of Headmaster. Surely the interview of prospective new teachers would be just a formality once Albus saw Tom's name on the list of candidates. But still he spent the weeks before the interview rehearsing everything he would say in order to make himself an even more attractive candidate. Tom made sure everything was planned to perfection and then he left for his interview.
Tom sat waiting patiently on one of the many chairs which decorated the corridor nearest to the Headmaster's office. Several other men and women had taken up residence in the seats much like Tom had, though none shared his sense of inner calm. One woman was nervously chewing her fingernails, eyes darting around everywhere, while one of the men bounced his knee out of impatience. One by one each of the candidates were called into the Headmaster's office and one by one they left, with an impartial mask plastered to their faces. As they each left Tom skimmed over their minds to see if they had been selected for the job he craved and found that none had been successful thus far. As the numbers dwindled Tom felt his resolve becoming firmer, there was no one else left but himself and another much older man, they were the only ones left with a shot of claiming the prize. Tom felt sure that Albus would select him over the old man in the corner and when his name was called by the Deputy Headmistress, he rose from his chair and continued on up the spiral staircase with a sense of accomplishment.
Tom straightened his robes and ran his fingers through his hair one last time before pushing the doors to the Headmaster's office open. His robes trailed behind him elegantly as he strode forth with all the confidence he could muster, which in Tom's case happened to be a large amount.
Albus looked up from the mountain of paperwork littering his desk and cast his bright blue eyes to Tom Riddle standing proudly before him.
"Ah Tom, what a pleasure it is to see you again," Albus said standing from his seat and extending his hand for a customary handshake.
"The pleasure is all mine Headmaster," Tom stated simply as his hand was enclosed within Albus' and he felt his heartbeat quicken a little, though not enough that it would be noticeable. Especially not with his usual mask of occlumency covering his entire being.
Albus gestured to the seat which had been placed opposite of Albus, "please take a seat Tom, we have much to discuss."
"Of course Headmaster," Tom said with a nod before following Albus' directions, his face not betraying any of his emotions.
Throughout the interview Tom remained his usual calm, if somewhat emotionless self. He answered all of the questions in the same way he had rehearsed for many hours before and he had yet to notice any displeasure coming from Albus. Tom reached out with his mind, gently trying to determine when the old man before him would reveal he had selected Tom for the job. But try as he might, Tom could not find what he was looking for on the outskirts of Albus' mind and if he were to dig around any deeper then Albus would certainly know what he was doing. He could not risk Albus learning of his skills for he would surely take offense at Tom's actions.
Albus inhaled a deep breath and looked Tom directly in the eyes, "I am sorry Tom, but you are not fit to fill this position," he said simply.
Tom's hands clenched into fists and his nostrils flared in anger, "What?" he exclaimed.
"I know you are upset Tom, but you must see that you are far too young to undertake this job. This job requires knowledge of things you could not even begin to contemplate," Albus explained
"Then what better place is there to learn than within the walls of Hogwarts. Will you let me return?" Tom said, reigning in his anger, fully in control of his emotions once again.
"I am sorry Tom," Albus said shaking his head.
"There is only one more candidate out there! How could you possibly chose him over me!" Tom exclaimed, his anger once again breaking through his barrier of emotional control.
"He knows things which you do not Tom."
"Then why don't you teach me what I need to know!"
"I cannot do that Tom."
Tom Marvolo Riddle had killed before, but he had always been desensitised to violence, thinking nothing of taking another's life as long as it was for his own benefit. He had watched the light leave many a man and woman's eyes after he hit them with the Killing Curse. Yes, Tom Riddle had done many terrible things, but he had yet to consider himself evil. He saw Albus Dumbledore as the epitome of Light.
Albus Dumbledore had just to utter one sentence which convinced Tom Riddle that he did not belong in the Light, he belonged in the Darkness as Lord Voldemort. The one sentence Albus uttered was, "I cannot teach you what you need to know because I do not love you Tom, and I never will."