AN: This will be a pretty dark story, and will run through to the end of Tom's first or second year at Hogwarts, depending on how long it becomes. There will be some potentially disturbing moments as this will be a character story of how Tom Riddle becomes Lord Voldemort. It will not alter the few events known from canon to a significant degree, and will focus on fleshing out Tom's personal story, bringing in the motivation and the thinking that was largely passed over in canon.
I know I'm excited to consider what really makes a handsome boy a ruthless dark lord, and I hope you enjoy it too.
- An Orphan's Deliverance -
Laughter, screams of joy, excited children swarming forward into the ocean; all was as it should be on that sunny day beside the sea, all but for the lone boy who stayed behind, watching. The joyful play of the other children and his melancholy expression gave silent testament to the divide between him and them, just as the way his handsome features, clashing brutally with the contempt that twisted them, highlighted the contrast in himself.
Tom Riddle was always the outsider; abandoned first by his parents, then by those who claimed to take their place. Ten years he had lived, and nine of them alone. He carried no memories of his parents, and none he had ever met in his short life had yet claimed to know them. Instead he had only the Matron, Mrs Cole, in their place; the mother figure who had never for a moment been a mother to Tom. It was not surprising to him, as she waded through her playful charges, to see that steely glint to her dark brown eyes, flashing as they met his, expressing her silent disapproval. As always, that disapproval was met by Tom's own indifferent stare, challenging her to yet again try her luck. As she moved away from the rest of the children, unwisely trusting them to take care of themselves for the moment, Tom felt resentment fill him as her large frame stumbled towards him over uneven sand and rough pebbles, her fury clear beneath her tight-knit bun of dark brown hair and her mouth thin and white with irritation.
"Tom," she stopped before him, hands firmly on hips after dusting the flecks of sand from her front, and a cold fury in her voice, "I see you aren't planning to join your friends. Again. Need I remind you how much time and work it took us to arrange this outing? I would think you would be more grateful than to throw all that back in our faces by lazing around over here."
Her voice hinted at none of the concern for her adult helpers that her words implied, and Tom didn't fail to notice that the old bat was, as usual, just whining for her own sake. It made him smile, ever so slightly, and he didn't try to hide it as he calmly responded.
"I only wanted to be out of the way, ma'am. I know some of the others are a little more needy. You should stay with them, I'm fine here, lazing around."
His calm tone carried a distinct hint of sarcasm, and to the old bat's credit, she actually picked up on it for a change. If the hand that struck him firmly across the cheek was any indication, she was in no mood for it. The pain shot through Tom, lighting a fire inside him, and he silently prayed that the old bat would just die some day, preferably soon. Knowing better than to say anything like that, he only turned his head back to meet her eyes again, refusing to back down or be intimidated. This infuriated the Matron even further, and that was obvious to Tom; the way her wrinkles deepened, the middle of her mouth opening slightly, teeth clenched in the rumblings of a growl. She was furious with his insolence, and that satisfied him enough to make the pain worthwhile.
"You're impossible, boy. I'm just about ready to give up on you, but I refuse to dump you on the other girls. You're my problem, and I always solve my problems."
Do you? Tom thought to himself absently, already disengaging from the crone and her reprimands. He knew it was only a matter of moments before she tired of him, as usual.
"Fine, do as you like lad, but don't come crying to me when you wish you'd taken advantage of such a lovely day."
This did get a reaction from Tom, one of quiet fury, and he was close to growling himself as he responded to her.
"I don't cry, ma'am. Never."
The Matron's scowl deepened, clearly realising he was right but not willing to give any ground to what she clearly saw as an insolent child. She seemed to consider something for a moment, perhaps a further smack, before she harrumphed, turning with a swish of her dull grey dress, and stumbled back to the rest of the children, leaving Tom to his thoughts.
After a few moments of reflection on what was, for him, a routine exchange with the woman who called herself the 'mother of all our children' at Wool's Orphanage he picked up a rock, weighing it in his hands as he stood at the edge of the sea, before carefully tossing it out into the water. It landed with a dull splash and a few stray ripples, nothing more. He frowned slightly, picked up another, and concentrating a little harder this time, threw again. Another splash, another ring of ripples, but nothing else. Frown deepening he concentrated much harder and, grasping a third rock, he threw as hard as he could, his thoughts bent on the airborne pebble, chanting one simple thing in his head.
Fly.
To his astonishment this time the rock went high, far higher than he could manage by force alone, and sailed clean away landing a good fifty feet out in the sea, far beyond his ordinary throwing distance. Was this success, or a fluke? He didn't know, but he aimed to try again. As he reached for another rock however, he was interrupted by an all too familiar voice.
"Oi, what's freaky Tommo doin' down 'ere then?"
Oh, great.
Tom paused in the act of throwing the stone, furious at the interruption of his thoughts, turning slowly to face the one who spoke and finding himself facing two of his so-called fellow orphans: Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop. Two names engraved in his mind in bold, flaming letters. So, they'd come after all, all the way out here, just to try and torment him. The one who spoke was Amy, a short girl, barely reaching shoulder height against Tom, with dirty blond hair and a dirty look in her blue eyes to match.
"Yeah, whatcha doing Tommo? Trying to kill Matron with pebbles this time, is it? What, tired of tripping her over ratty rugs?"
Dennis Bishop, also dirty blond, though no blood relation to Amy, and with bright green eyes full of mischief and taunts, spoke between mouthfuls of a sandwich he was munching, spraying flecks of half-chewed bread all over Tom's meticulously clean outerwear. Tom suppressed the anger that built in him at that; he had always hated Dennis for his disgusting habits, and talking with his mouth full was always top of the list. It revolted him, and made him want to punch the empty-headed boy.
As he thought on it however, Tom wasn't all that angry to see them, and that was a huge change from normal. In fact, as he considered his response, he was struck by a wave of inspiration.
Does my power work on people?
It was an idea that, oddly enough, had never really occurred to him. Flying pebbles and hiding toys out of reach had always been something he'd been able to do. He'd never known how or why, but he'd certainly known enough to keep it quiet. Unfortunately, that meant most of his cautious tests of this strange ability had been limited to very boring things. Lifting a teddy bear is one thing, but what else could he do?
"Hello Amy, Dennis, I wish I could say I'm glad to see you, but..."
He never finished as Amy moved very close to him, and without thinking, he backed away at the malicious glint in her eyes. Tom wasn't weak, and he never cried for mercy, but he couldn't stop himself feeling the pain whenever Amy Benson set her mind to it. And she had her mind set alright, Dennis' gleeful anticipation was evidence enough of that.
"Shove it, freaky, I got a bone or three to pick with you, ain't I, Den?"
Dennis, in tried and true fashion, simply nodded rapidly like an excited puppy, clearly anxious to see Tom suffer again. Really, it would have been comical to see the irritated look on Amy's face as the vocal response she was clearly expecting never came, and her little routine fell flat. It would have been comical, if the way she was holding the stone she'd just picked up wasn't so clearly threatening.
She gripped the front of Tom's shirt, pulling him close, and Tom met the all too familiar stench of rotting teeth and sugary snacks that he always got when she grabbed him. It was not an appealing mix and Tom felt revolted, angry too, to yet again be so helpless.
"Like I were saying, I got a couple of bones to pick. Yours, Tommo."
Tom could only respond with a cold glare. If he were capable of finding humour in the situation, it would only have been that Amy, for all her skill with violence, was truly awful at intimidation in any other form.
"If you want to scare me Amy, you'll have to try a lot harder than that. I have done nothing, as you know quite well."
Tom stared Amy down, even as her grip tightened and she brought the sharp stone up to his face, drawing the edge across his cheek and stopping only just short of cutting across his eye, which he had no choice but to shut. She laughed in his face, her stale breath rushing up his nostrils and making his already churning stomach fill with bile. Amy Benson disgusted him too, and he would never stop hating either of the two for it.
He couldn't let this continue, he just couldn't. He had lost count of how many times he had suffered this humiliating experience. How many cuts he had refused to explain to the nurse at Wool's, how many beatings he had endured without a word or a tear. Being alone he could handle, but this kind of humiliation? Never. He would never accept it, not lying down, not ever again. Tom grit his teeth, coming to a decision.
"Amy, you and Dennis want to come with me to explore."
As he spoke, he did his best to summon that same strange power that lingered just beyond the edges of conscious thought. He summoned it with all the willpower he could, focusing only now on the two bullies before him. He would make them obey him, make them release him, and then, he would make them pay for a change.
"Uh, Den, you think he's finally cracked? I coulda sworn Tommo here just said we wanted to explore! With him!"
Dennis laughed, taking the humour in the situation thanks more to Amy's pointed glare than her wit, and Tom felt his heart sink. It hadn't worked. The despair and fury at his own powerlessness again threatened to consume him as Amy turned back to him, raising the stone to his face once more.
"Maybe I oughta fix your eye there Tommo, looks a bit dark, could do with more light getting in it? Maybe a new hole?"
Amy raised the stone, deliberately slowly, bringing it achingly close to Tom's eye, which he resisted shutting until the last moment. As he closed it, she moved the stone back away. Then, it came forward again, quickly, to graze just at the edge of his eyelid. He ground his teeth, commanding his body not to shake or his eyes to flinch; he would not give any sign of fear.
No! I won't accept this!
He pushed himself again, focusing all his might on the command, the urge to obey, and with all his mental power he stared at Amy, desperately trying to use his until now largely useless abilities for something that would actually help him.
"You. Want. To. Explore. With. Me."
Tom spoke forcefully, as commanding a tone as he had ever used, his eyes boring into Amy's. For a moment she simply stared at him, eyes hardening, and then they began to glaze over, the hand holding the stone dropping limply to her side. She released him onto his own two feet, and Tom could hardly believe it.
Did it work?
Amy simply stood staring at him as though waiting for his command, and Tom supposed it really must have worked. It actually worked! Then, he realised Dennis was still stood there, looking at Amy in confusion.
"Why would you think us'd want to go anywhere with you, freak? Freaks are boring, ain't that right Am? ...Am?"
Amy didn't respond, still staring at Tom in blank silence and clearly waiting for him to speak. Tom, quickly getting over his excitement, brought his mind back to the matter at hand and stared now into Dennis' eyes.
"You too. You want to come with us and explore the cave I found."
In this case, the effect was immediate. Evidently, his power didn't have to work as hard on the mind of an idiot. Something to remember, he supposed, as Dennis stood as blankly now as Amy, his half-eaten sandwich dropping to the sand. Tom paused to consider his next move. He continued to channel, if that was what he was doing, his mental command to them as he walked around them, observing the effect his ability had had.
Nothing at all wrong, friends. Let's be calm. Just stand here for a moment.
Tom was still in shock, but increasingly a sense of triumph grew in his heart as he realised his two tormentors were completely his now. To do with what he liked. He turned his head, frowning at the cave he had spotted earlier, just a small way down the shoreline. It looked like the tide had gone out now, and the entrance to it should be clear. It would be private, and perhaps he could experiment, test just what he could make these two do with his power. A smile crept over his face and Tom realised it really was no choice at all, so he turned back to the two bullies.
"Amy, Dennis. That cave I found, you're gonna join me there, aren't you? You both really want to, I can see it in your eyes."
A gentle push this time, focused on encouragement and the hint of excitement to be had to tempt them. He silently prayed he wasn't imagining it; that he hadn't simply confused them with his odd behaviour into temporary silence, even if he knew that was completely impossible. However surprised they might be by his odd behaviour, they surely wouldn't stand still for so long just out of shock. After all, he thought with a smirk, he doubted Dennis could stand still more than twenty seconds with all the lice he was usually infested with.
He centred himself in his mind, focusing on his goal, and pushed out as hard as he could with his thoughts, imagining that his commands were moving from his mind to theirs by an invisible string or wire, pulsing down it like an electrical current. He just had to focus enough and he could almost feel his thoughts doing just that, spreading out from him to envelop the two children. After a few moments of burning his eyes into them, it was Dennis who spoke first.
"I really wanna check this out, Am. It sounds brill. Wanna come with?"
Dennis spoke flatly, despite the excited words, and Tom knew, he just knew, it was working, at least on Dennis. He watched Amy's face carefully, seeking any sign that she, too, was under his influence. Then he saw the change, the shift in her features from blankness to compliance.
"Deffo, Den. Heh, Deffo Den. Heh, heh."
Tom couldn't help but roll his eyes. They might be accepting his suggestions now, but evidently whatever he was doing to them did nothing to make their brains work any better. It would have amused him if he weren't so keen to get on with the next step. Smiling at them, the first time he'd smiled all day, he spread his arms and took their shoulders so as not to arouse too much suspicion from any watching adults, guiding them to the cave that so tempted him with possibilities.
Now, at last, I will find out what I can do.
- An Orphan's Deliverance -
The dark, wet and bleak tunnel came out, at last, to a pool perhaps a hundred feet or so across, in a central chamber of the cave. It wasn't overly large, and there wasn't much beyond the scattered empty shells of limpets and crabs littered across the damp stones to indicate anything of interest at all. Still, it seemed to call to Tom's instincts, to whisper to him. It spoke of seclusion, of isolation, and of the possibilities that now lay before him as he observed the two children he'd brought with him and who now stood before him at the edge of the water, blankly staring about themselves, seemingly not really aware of what was going on.
So much the better.
"Now isn't this exciting guys? See! Matron isn't here, and it's just the three of us. Think of the fun we can have here, where nobody can tell us off!"
Tom's voice carried genuine enthusiasm, but it wasn't shared or even much noticed at all by Dennis or Amy, who simply stared blankly at him as though he wasn't really there at all. Perhaps he had overdone it with...whatever this was? Still, if they didn't really know what was happening, that just meant there was less chance of them blabbing to Matron. That suited Tom just fine.
"Well, I suppose this place isn't for everyone, but never mind, eh?"
Tom spoke simply to fill the silence as he walked around the edge of the cave, ignoring the two blank idiots who stood staring at him as he carefully moved around the edge of the pool, examining it. For what he didn't know, but he simply felt compelled to do so. Or perhaps he was just nervous and unsure what to do next. Tom really didn't know, and he hated not knowing anything. Time to see what he could do.
Circling back to Amy and Dennis he stood before them, his dark eyes glinting in the low light like a predator as he considered his options.
"Amy, did you know Dennis thinks you're a loser?"
He spoke the words softly, silkily, and pushed again, ever so gently, putting as much false sincerity and concern into his words as he could, dark eyes locked on Amy's dirty blue. She didn't react at all for a moment, and Tom felt disappointment squirm through him, turning away and trying to refocus himself. But as he turned back he heard Amy's voice ring out. Quiet, but with a hint of building anger.
"You think I'm a loser, Den?"
Tom smiled a vicious smile, staring at Amy, who had turned to face a blank and muddled Dennis, who clearly had no idea what was going on.
Interesting, very interesting indeed.
"What, ya listening to the freak now? Am, we're best mates, I never said anythin' about you to anyone, 'specially not freaky Tommo!"
Dennis reached out to Amy and Tom, still observing them carefully, sent another, slightly more forceful push to Amy, this time focusing on feelings of anger and betrayal, emotions he understood well.
He lies, Amy.
"Liar! That turd Mickey were grinning at me all day yesterday. Bet you told him, dintcha Den? Told him all about how 'lil Amy got jam all down her frock', about how 'Matron smacked her arse'. Bet you thought it was well funny!"
Dennis looked really panicked now as Amy's voice rose, and Tom felt something new joining his sense of triumph and satisfaction: pleasure. It was an unusual feeling, one he didn't experience often, and he found it incredibly addictive. It was a sweet feeling, sweeter than all the sugar he'd ever tasted, and he realised quickly that it wasn't Amy's anger that was so delicious to watch, it was the fact he had made her angry, had made her lose control. And all with just one sentence, and a little of his newfound power.
Amy and Dennis began scuffling, Amy lunging at Dennis and with a yell they fell, rolling about on the cold stone floor, oblivious to the way their clothes dirtied, and the way the shells of the sea animals they crushed sent shards of pain into their bodies, creating small cuts against their skin, and Tom realised he could feel it through his tenuous link to their minds, and that too was a good feeling.
Tom watched with fascination as Amy struck Dennis hard in the face, and to his surprise, the pleasurable feeling intensified. It was incredible. He felt, for the first time in his life, a sense of real power. He was the puppet master, and they were his to command. He watched them scuffle for a full minute, by his estimation, before deciding to press his power further, both curious and excited.
"Amy."
The scuffling stopped, at least from Amy's side, and Dennis stopped soon after, realising his punches were suddenly being completely ignored, and clearly confused. He stared up at Tom, and a small inkling of realisation seemed to hit him as he looked up into the dark, amused eyes.
"You! Freak! You're making 'er go crazy! You're a real freak! I knew it!"
Tom ignored the shrill cries, focusing his eyes and his mind back on Amy's blank stare, burning his gaze through her eyes and right to the centre of her being as he spoke again.
"Dennis needs to be punished, Amy. Liars are always punished."
Amy stared back at him, eyes unfocused, and she nodded slowly, turning back to Dennis, who now looked truly frightened. That brought a smirk to Tom's face. After all, Amy was near enough half Dennis' size, and should have been no threat to him. But he knew it wasn't her body Dennis was afraid of.
"Am...?"
It was a quiet, pleading voice; a mix of confusion, fear and pain. Tom felt that rush again, that feeling of elation, as he watched Amy blankly say only one word.
"Punished."
Smiling, Tom now reached out again with his mind, this time to Dennis, urging only one thought on him.
Stay still.
Dennis seemed to sense something was wrong this time. Perhaps, now he knew something was going on, he had more of a defence against it? It didn't matter though, as Tom simply redoubled his effort, and when Dennis turned to stare at Tom with anger and fear written in his features his eyes instantly glazed as they met Tom's own.
"Punished."
Amy spoke again and Tom, glancing around, spotted a particularly sharp shell. He picked it up, handing it to her with a wide smile on his face.
"This should help."
His words were cool and disinterested but Tom's eyes, he knew, must be blazing with excitement as he watched Amy, without a word, simply grasp the shell and turn it over in her hands, until she found the sharpest edge. Then, she tightened her grip, and stood before a motionless Dennis, pushing him roughly onto the cold stone and sitting on his chest as she leaned over him. Dennis' body remained still, but his eyes now were full of terror.
Then Dennis screamed, the yells echoing through the cave as Amy began to cut deep into his cheek, sawing at the skin with the sharp edge of the shell and with a blank and automatic movement, not reacting at all as Dennis screamed, still unable to move. She didn't react as the blood began to flow, as flecks of it hit her frock and her hands and face as she sawed harder at his cheek, cutting deep until at last, and Tom had to admit he admired her choice, she had carved a single word into it.
LIAR
Tom felt dizzy with his success and the sense of utter control and power as Amy, having finished after a few minutes, finally stood back up, dropping the bloodied shell on the stone with a dull clatter, and completely disinterested in the still screaming form of her friend, lying exactly as she'd left him, eyes wide with terror and moist with pain. Tear tracks flowed down his face, mingling with the blood welling from the cuts and staining his admittedly already filthy shirt. Tom was almost panting, unable to believe what he'd forced them to do. On some level, he felt he should be disgusted with what it, and Matron...God, when she saw Amy and Dennis, she'd ask questions, and if she ever found out...
Tom pushed quickly away from the wall he'd been resting against as he'd watched and moved forward, hauling Dennis to stand and turning Amy to face him, locking eyes with both of them and focusing yet again and with all his might on the two of them, urging obedience.
"You will forget I was ever here. Amy, you hurt Dennis because he had told you that he'd always hated you, had never really liked you. He told you he'd pretended to like you so you would attack people he was afraid of. You cut that word in his face to remind him what happens to liars who betray their friends and their feelings."
His voice echoed softly around the three of them and he willed all his strength into the words which he spoke with all the calm and all the sincerity he could muster.
You believe every word of what I have said, you will never doubt it, never remember that I said it at all.
This time something changed, subtle but still, to Tom's keen senses, noticeable. He could almost feel a hint of something flow through him as he spoke this time, but he didn't let himself be distracted by it, only concentrated harder, eyes locked with those of the children he hated. Then, to his relief and his even greater sense of triumph, the two of them glazed over again, and he knew it had worked. They would never remember a thing of what he'd made them do.
Smiling softly Tom backed away from them and moved as quickly as he could, fumbling his way back out of the cave and shaking slightly from the Adrenalin high as he left the pool behind and padded back out over the sand. Still, even as he shook he was happy, happier than he'd been in a long time. At last he had a weapon, he had something he could use to protect himself. Something to take back control of his life.
Even better, I have a weapon to make someone else hurt for a change. Anyone I want.
Carefully, he made his way back to his original spot just by the shore and glanced over at where the other children were still playing, relieved to see the Matron, and the other adults, had evidently not noticed anything was amiss. With any luck, he and the other two hadn't been gone long, and their absence hadn't yet been noticed. When Benson and Bishop turned up again, he'd be clear of blame.
Blame, but not suspicion.
He knew the Matron, the old bat, would surely suspect him. Benson and Bishop were thick as thieves as she often liked to say, and would no doubt consider Tom her first suspect. She was, after all, not blind to everything, and the rivalry between Tom and the two bullies was an open secret.
Tom curled a hand up into a fist as he reached the other down to pick a pebble up from the shore, as though he'd been there doing that the whole time, anger now surging through him as he thought.
Yes, not blind to everything are you, bat? Only to me, only to what the others do to me.
He tossed a pebble out and focusing on his bitter, angry thoughts, he wasn't even surprised as this one not only flew over the sea, but went so far he could no longer see it. Yes, Matron was blind, but Tom was no longer powerless. Things would change soon.
And that, he thought as he picked up another pebble and took aim, means I can finally even the odds against me.
He threw another pebble, and kept throwing as the afternoon wore on, as the sun began to set and as, finally, a shrill scream pierced the balmy summer air as Benson and Bishop emerged from the cave.
Yes. At last, I can even the odds.
Tom Riddle would never be powerless again.
