Guess what, I don't own these characters! Suprise suprise because if I did I would not be writing on FanFiction.

A Bad Beginning

I watched the other students as they walked the halls chatting animatedly with their friends. No worries were on their minds of where they would live once the orphanage pitched them out. I was probably the student the orphanage staff was most happy to see leave, but this did not bother me. I had been collecting information over the past years of my parentage. What else could you expect of the heir of Salazar Slithering? Yet I would outstrip even him by far. I now knew where my muggle father lived, and while discussing others discussed their plans for summer I steeled myself for what I was about to do.

"What are you doing now that school is out?" Rockwood asked me. The mindless oaf relied on parents for support, and had no concept that I had to plan out what I would do after school for years.

"I suppose I will be working." I said imitating his casual tone. Rockwood may be an idiot, but he could be useful if persuaded.

"Dad reckons he can get me a job in the ministry." Rockwood said with glee.

"Well I hope you won't forget your friends." I said enthusiastically tho0ugh inwardly I was seething.

"I'd never forget my mates."

"I'll hold you to that," I said.

My hands were cold and clammy as I approached the mansion. "It's no different than that mudblood girl." I told myself, but I knew it was different. Now I was the one doing the attacking. I unlocked the door and slipped into the house. Portraits of Mr. and Mrs. Riddle and their grown son Tom glared down at me. The lump hadn't even moved out of his parents' house, but continued to live on his families wealth while I, his only son, had received nothing. I had been forced to look after myself by the time I could walk while he still had his parents to fix his mistakes. Mistakes like me. My palms no longer felt sweaty and I was barley conscious of my feet moving toward where I heard their voices. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart in my ears. Rage boiled inside of me for what he had done to me and what he had done to my mother. Though she would not even stay alive for me, I felt oddly attached to my mother as I had felt for no one else. She was pathetic to fall for this muggle and even more pathetic to turn down the power being a wizard gave you, but that this man hurt her so deeply almost outraged me as much as that he had hurt me. I stepped quickly into the dining room. There they sat looking shocked in their gaudy finery.

"Hello Father," I said.

"Who are you?" Tom Riddle asked.

"Did I not just tell you? I am your son."

"I have no son." Riddle said turning red, "Do not lie to me."

"You took away my mother. Now I shall take away yours." In a flash of green light Mrs. Riddle was dead. The remaining Riddles looked too stunned to move, but I laughed at the sweet taste of revenge. "You were no father to me," I said with mirth "so I will take that from you too." Mr. Riddle died just as his wife.

"Please," Tom Riddle begged, "I'll do anything!"

"You were not much use to me in life, but I have much use for your death." Tom Riddle died by his beloved parents, and I quickly pulled out the ring I had stolen. After a quick incantation I felt immense pain. The spell had to have gone wrong because I knew I was dying, but then the pain was gone and I lay shivering on the floor. I looked at the ring in my hand. I, Lord Voldemort, had now defeated death. Nothing could stop me now. "I have much enjoyed our little chat." Said to my father before disappearating."