A/N: This story is from Tom Riddle's point of view. In it, he is a bit out of character. : ( Can't be helped.
Happy Birthday to me. Yes, you would think that when a wizard turns 71, he would have a celebration instead of just a bunch of immature black-robed twerps in white masks paying homage to one out of fear instead of genuine friendship. I guess that it comes from casting curses at them all of the time. No matter.
This is not one of my better birthdays. Even at the orphanage, they had a proper cake, not a big bash with a bunch of muggles for entertainment when you tortured them. The pleasures of being a Dark Wizard. No one even calls me by my given name. No one ever says 'Hey, Tom! How was your day?' They always say 'Master, what do you want me to do now? Polish your shoes? Kill some people? Kiss your robe hem? Suck up to you?' It's just stupid.
And about those muggles. Everyone assumes that I just hate muggles. It's not all muggles. It's just those muggles that need to be put out of their misery. That goes for all of them—and some wizards, too. I'm not just a bad guy, I help people! If they're miserable, I help them. I put them out of their misery. The only way I know how is to kill them. There is no bad student, only a bad teacher. Some have called me a humane killer, a therapist even. Any rumors you've heard about me attacking a hospital are most certainly not true. It was probably a 'follower' of mine. I have a lot of people who follow me because they think I hate muggles. It's just the opposite. Most assume that I'm evil because I laugh after I kill someone. What happens is, after I kill them, I'm happy because I've freed them. To release my joy, I laugh.
Some have accused me of doing the work of the devil. I object. I am a devout Christian. I say my prayers every night and pray for Jesus to save my soul. And, now that I think about it, the souls of others. And world hunger. And global warming. I listen to contemporary Christian music all the time! You just don't notice because I listen to it on my iPod. My favorite song is Here I Am by an American, Michael W. Smith. Go ahead, laugh at me. My faith is no laughing matter. If you don't want to live in a black hole for eternity, I suggest seeing a nearby pastor.
I have many names. A man only needs one, the name his buddies say when they apperate over to your house. For me, that name would be Master. I have quite a few names, though. You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Voldemort, Lord Voldemort, Master, The Dark Lord, Tom Riddle, Heir of Slytherin. Hello, people! I only need one name! If I could chose one name for myself, it would be Tom Riddle. I once said that I didn't like having a common name like Tom. I've changed my mind over the last fifty-some years since I first attended Hogwarts, the greatest wizarding school in the world, in my opinion. But who cares about my opinion? I'll answer that, no one.
No one. No one cares about me. An old man. A powerful old man, but still an old man. What have I really done with my life? Wasted it on evil instead of good. I actually am not a humane killer, I did enjoy it at first, but then it struck me. Why was I doing that? These people were probably happy people with good jobs and a pleasant home life. In one moment, I rip that away from them. What have they done to deserve that? Nothing. Nothing. I think I'm going to turn myself into the Ministry of Magic. I'll die. I'm sure of it. But then more people won't die. I'll even face Azkaban and the dementors. Then I'll know what happened to the people who followed me and ruined their lives. I've made my decision. No one can deter me from my path. I'm going to go right now.
I don't care that everyone is staring at me as I walk away from 'my' Death Eaters. I apperate and no one stops me. I appear at the Ministry and everyone screams. I ask politely if I can talk to the Minister. Some people point wands at me. Others just scream. I hand them my wand and ask for an escort to the Minister's office. One brave man steps forward and I recognize him as a man whose life I have ruined, Harry Potter. I surrender to him and he walks me to the Minister, all the while pointing his wand at my back and glaring at me. I ignore him because I know I deserve it. I killed his father, mother, peers, godfather, and headmaster. I take it like a man, even though I can't be described as one anymore. I doubt he ever expected me to surrender, as his eyes grew bigger as I described my thinking to the Minister. He thinks about my offer to go to Azkaban for my crimes. He turns to me, a great big smile on his face, telling me that I'm Azkaban's newest prisoner. But, if I can hand over the names of all of 'my' Death Eaters, I won't have such high security. I agree. I want to help in any and all ways that I can.
That's how I ended up in Azkaban with all of 'my' followers. On my birthday no less. A year later, I still sit in here. Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday, Tom Riddle.