The Making of a Dark Lord: Tom Riddle Jr.
I will continue this if anyone likes it, but for now it will remain a one shot.
Little Hangleton Orphanage
The night keeper stared out of the window and watched as the rain fell heavily. She listened as the rain struck the window, making a soft clank sound. She jumped as a flash of lightening lit up the night sky. Little Hangleton Orphanage had seen better days. It had peeling wall paper, faulty plumbing, and no space for extra children. No one was adopting right now, with the war and all.
"I hope no one is out there in that storm." The night keeper thought to herself.
Lightening flashed again, and the night keeper jumped as she saw a dark figure heading toward the orphanage. The figure walked as if it was in pain. The night keeper watched as the figure faltered and grasped its stomach. The night keeper walked to the front door and grabbed her rain coat.
"Might as well help the poor soul and get them out of this horrible weather." The night keeper muttered to herself.
She opened the door and walked over to the now slumped over person. As she got closer, she noticed that the person was a woman, and that she was pregnant. The night keeper hoisted the woman up into standing position and wrapped her arm around her waist. The woman looked up at her, her expression hidden by the darkness of night.
"Th-thank you." The young woman stammered.
The night keeper nodded and together they made their way into the orphanage. Once inside, the night keeper helped the young woman into a chair and sat down across from her. The night keeper studied the young woman. She looked to be in her early to late twenties, had dark wet hair, and pain filled blue eyes.
"How far along are you lass?" The night keeper asked.
The young woman grasped her stomach and winced in pain.
"My baby shouldn't be due until a week or two, ma'am." The young woman said.
"I- I think its coming." The young woman gasped.
The night made stood up and walked over to the young woman. She helped her lay down on the floor and ran to fetch a basin of warm water, pair of sterilized scissors, and some washcloths. When she returned, the young woman had grabbed a pillow and was clutching it for dear life.
"Alright lass, now I want you to take a breath, hold it, and push." The night keeper said calmly.
Ten minutes had passed and there was still no baby. The night keeper knew that the young woman was tired. Sweat had formed onto her forehead and slowly trickled down her face. She was also loosing too much blood. The young woman gasped and pushed one last time. With a flash of lightening and the soft rumble of thunder, the baby was born.
The night keeper held the infant and gently washed him off. She stared at the small life that was in her hands. The baby had not made a single sound. She almost feared he was a stillborn, but she could see his little chest rise and fall with every breath he took. She handed over the baby to his mother and asked, "What will you name him lass?"
With her last breath in this realm, the young woman gasped, "Thomas Marvolo Riddle Jr. before she closed her eyes; never to open them again.
There was another flash of lightening and the baby opened his eyes. They were a strange brown color. They almost appeared to have flashed red. The night keeper shook her head, picked up the baby and went to phone the morgue. "Babies don't have red eyes", she told herself as she walked.
Ten Years Later
The orphanage had improved slightly as the years passed. A few dozen rooms were added for the children that were orphaned by what is now called World War II. Every child shared a room, all except one. He stayed on the top floor of the orphanage, at the end of the hall. He was in a room by himself because none of the other children wanted to room with him.
Knock, knock, knock!
Thomas Marvolo Riddle Jr. or Tom as the keepers called him, walked slowly over to his bedroom door and opened it. He looked up at Mary the day keeper and raised one small eyebrow.
"Yes ma'am?" He said quietly, but politely.
"Lunch is ready." She said stiffly.
"Yes ma'am, I will be down shortly." Tom replied.
Mary nodded her head and left. Tom closed his door and sighed. Everyone here treated him like he was something they should avoid. He looked at his mirror that was on the inside of his wardrobe. He was average height, with neat dark brown hair, and brown eyes. Tom closed his wardrobe and walked to his door again.
"Better hurry before the food is gone." He thought to himself.
Tom closed his door and headed for the stairs. Children ranging in ages ran past him, going in both directions. One of them stopped.
"Hey Tommy-boy, wanna play?" The boy said menacingly.
Tom looked up at David Higgs, the orphanage bully. He towered over Tom. His large frame blocking the stairs from any adults seeing what was happening. David walked closer toward, a nasty smile crossing over his face as he cracked his knuckles.
"Come on, Tommy-boy. You know you want to!" David said.
"Leave me alone." Tom said quietly.
"Or what, you'll cry?" David asked.
David's friends, if you could call people who feared you friends, all took a step back. They knew that Tom was quiet, but not a push over. He would fight back. And strange things always happened around him, whenever he was angry or scared.
"Leave me alone." Tom said again.
David raised his hand and swung at Tom's head, hitting him hard enough to make him fall back onto the wall. The other boys gasped as Tom's lip started to bleed. Tom didn't even react, he didn't cry, he never did. He just stared at David with a blank, somewhat closed off expression, with just a hint of concealed anger. David gasped suddenly and fell to the floor.
"AHHH, help me, help me please. He screamed. Make it stop, please, make it stop." David lay on the floor, clutching his head, and curled himself into a fetal position. He started to rock back and forth, muttering under his breath, "Please make it stop, please."
Tom had looked into David's mind, and found his worst memory, and his worst fear, and brought it fourth from where David hid it. David now saw his mother and younger sister being shot to death over and over again. He could feel their anxiety as the soldier entered their home, he could feel their fear and his, as he was pushed into a closet and watched as they were tortured, before cruelly murdered. It would stop soon, but hopefully David would get the message to leave him alone, or else.
Tom looked away. He knew that once the day keepers found David, they would blame him. Granted, he did put him in this state, but that wasn't the point. Whenever something, anything happened that was strange, he was blamed for it. If he wasn't there, they would still stare at him with their accusing eyes.
"What is going on up here?" Anne, a young day keeper asked.
"Tom did it?" A young boy said, pointing at Tom.
All of the other boys nodded their heads and agreed. Anne looked at Tom. She could see the anger that most didn't see, as well as pain. She knew that whatever happened up here, she wouldn't get the truth. She admitted to herself that for some reason, she didn't want to know the truth. Strange things happened around Tom. Strange and amazing things, that were sometimes scary. She also knew that David was a bully and loved to pick on the other children, especially Tom, while Tom just kept to himself.
"Alright, leave, all of you. Go on!" She snapped at the lingeringly boys. She looked at Tom and handed him a plate full of sandwiches and crisps.
"Thank you miss." Tom said.
"Your quiet welcome, Tom." She replied.
Tom turned and walked back to his room. He stopped and watched as Anne shook David and brought him out of his frightened state.
"You best be getting down stairs David and see the nurse." Anne said.
David stood up, shaking slightly and looked at Tom. Tom stared back with no expression on his face, his eyes boring into David's. David jumped slightly, turned and walked down the stairs.
Tom turned around and entered his room. He placed his plate on the desk by the window and sat down on the floor. He pulled his legs up to his chest and rocked slowly. Why did these things happen to him? Why? What was he? All of these thoughts raced through Tom's mind as he rocked himself, and cried.
The Next Day
Tom woke up in his bed. Someone had come into his room and put him to bed. It must have been Jen the night keeper. She was one of the few people who talked to him, let alone touch him.
Tom stood up and grabbed his clothes that he was going to wear for the day, closed his door, and walked toward the loo for a quick shower.
After his shower, Tom dropped his clothes into the hamper with the words, Tom Riddle, stamped on it, and walked back to his room. He broke into a run when he saw that his door was open. Tom stood at the entrance to his room and looked around. His desk chair laid upturned in boy the window. His books were ripped and scattered everywhere, but worse, the picture of his mother, the only one he had, was missing.
Tom ran out of his room and headed for the stairs. He passed Anne on his way who called after him.
"Tom, what's wrong?" She asked.
Tom didn't spare her a glance, he just kept running.
He ended up outside, right next to the wooded area that was next to the orphanage. He had a gut feeling that his mother's picture was in there. He took a step forward, but grabbed from behind by two large boys. They both were David's friends, Mike and Eric. They began to drag him into the woods, letting his legs scrape on the ground. They brought him to a clearing where David stood waiting. David waived Tom's picture in the air.
"Look what I have guys, he said. Little Tommy-boys photo of him dead mummy." David snickered.
"Give that back, now!" Tom yelled.
"Why should I? David asked as he took a few steps forward. I know what happened yesterday was your fault, freak! I can't prove it, but I know it was your fault! David screamed. Now, I have something you want. Do you want it, Tommy-boy? Do you? David asked as he waived the picture of Tom's mother around.
"I think that it could use some heat in this cold British air, don't you think so boys?" David asked.
Mike and Eric nodded their heads and tightened their grip on Tom's arms. Tom's eyes widened as he watched David pull out a lighter. He began to struggle, kick, anything to get to his picture. David pressed down a small red button on the lighter and a flame flickered, before it grew about an inch high. He raised the photo of Tom's mother to the flame before he let it catch fire. Tom stopped struggling and watched as his mothers photo burned.
"I will get you back." He swore to himself. One day soon, I will repay you.
The next day
It was raining the next day. "The weather suits my mood." Tom thought to himself. He looked at the things that he took from Eric, Mike, and David's room. There was a photo of a happy family, all smiling at the camera that belonged to David. A letter from Eric's father who had died in the war, and dog tags from Mike's father. He knew that they would want these back. They would come for them and when they did, they would pay.
Knock, knock, knock
Tom stood up quickly and placed the stolen things into his wardrobe, just as the door opened and a tall man who had a long white beard, and was wearing a suit entered. Tom scowled. He hated when people walked into his room without his permission.
"Who are you?" Tom asked.
"I am Professor Dumbledore, Tom." Professor Dumbledore answered.
"Why are you here?" Tom asked.
"I am here to invite you to a school." Dumbledore replied.
"Your not a doctor are you?" Tom asked suspiciously.
"A doctor you ask, no, but I am a Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, young man. I am many things, but a doctor is, sadly not one of them." Dumbledore replied.
"A school of witchcraft and wizardy?" Tom asked.
"Why yes, my boy, at Hogwarts you will learn how to control you powers." Dumbledore said.
Tom sat down on his bed. He was a wizard, and there was a school for people like him, if what this odd man was saying was true. He looked up and said, "Prove it. Prove to me that magic exists."
Dumbledore reached into his pocket and pulled out a stick.
"This is a wand." Dumbledore said.
He turned and faced Tom's wardrobe and waived his wand. Tom's entire wardrobe caught fire.
"Go ahead and open it Tom. Dumbledore said. The fire won't hurt you."
Tom walked over to his now burning wardrobe and opened the door. He was right, it didn't hurt him.
"Now pull out the things that are scattered around that do not belong to you." Dumbledore demanded.
Tom pulled out the photo, letter, and the dog tags and placed them onto his desk. Dumbledore waived his wand again and the fire went out.
"We do not allow stealing at Hogwarts, Tom." Dumbledore said.
Tom looked up at Dumbledore and nodded his head. He wanted to go to this school for people like him. He might even be able to call that place a home.