A/N: I started to write this story because the two fanfiction types that I enjoy the most are DragonBall Z and Harry potter. I'm still working on my DBZ story and by no means am I taking a break from that, but I thought this would be a cool idea to write about so I did. Voldemort is the kind of villain you love to hate. He has charisma and talent and is, in short, a good villain. Harry potter, is in short, not a great hero. I enjoy the books, but HP as a character annoys me for various reasons. I love the fan stories where he is portrayed as intelligent, competent, powerful or just plain hardworking. I really like anything better than what we got after the GoF. Not saying that his angst wasn't justified and I don't think a hero needs to be OP, I just think they should be more than what Harry was, but I digress and if you disagree, that's ok. This story is not about Harry, it is about Tom Riddle. Riddle was intelligent and hardworking, but he was also downright evil. To quote the movie Hook, He needed a mother very very badly. (Go watch the movie if you don't get it.) So here is the story of what might have been if Tom riddle's mother had survived that fateful night.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter

Prologue:

December 31 1926, London, Wool's orphanage.

"Push!" The matron yelled.

"GRRYAAAH!" A pale young girl screamed as she tried to get the baby out of her. The pain was unbearable and she just wanted it to be over. Truthfully, pain was nothing new to the girl. She had lived with it all her life after all. Abuse fell upon her as naturally as a storm on the ocean, only the storm for her never seemed to end. She had been demeaned and beaten by the very people who should have been her protectors. Her father and brother, cowards and brutes that they were, never passed up an opportunity to break her down. Her cooking, her looks, her magic. None of it was ever good enough for them and they let her know it, even communicating their displeasure with blows if they felt like it. Her life was hell, and the first chance she got to escape, she took it.

After her brother and father had been carted off to Azkaban, she made her escape by means of one Tom Riddle, the squire's son. Though she had fallen in love with the handsome young gentleman, he didn't even know she existed. After all, she was not gifted in the looks department. But her plan of happiness could not be fulfilled without him so, being a witch, she fed him a love potion and they ran away together. She had never been so happy in all her life, but sadly, her joy was not to last. When she became pregnant with his child, she stopped feeding him the potion, deluding herself into believing that his love was more than just enchantment. If nothing else, she believed he would stay for the love of their child. He did not. He left almost as soon as the potion wore off and trampled all over the heart of one Merope Riddle nee Gaunt on his way out.

Heartbroken and alone, she bore the burden of pregnancy by herself, refusing to go back to the hellish pit from whence she came. As the months dragged on, she grew weaker, having no money on which to subsist, and no family that she could count on for help. In desperation, she sold the only thing in the world she owned worth any value. She gave the priceless locket, an heirloom from Salazar Slytherin himself, away for a pittance, but she needed the pittance to survive. If it weren't for the baby, she wouldn't have even bothered.

But now the baby was almost here, causing her the last bit of pain in her life before she moved on. It seemed that even her own child had to cause her pain. She supposed this was a fitting ending to her wretched life. She would have laughed if she wasn't in such agony.

"Come on PUSH!"

"GYEAAAAAAHHHH!"

"We got it."

*Slap slap*

"Uwaaah!" The cries of a newborn filled the room.

"Hah, hah…" Merope's breathing was shallow and raspy.

"Congratulations, it's a boy."

"A boy?" She said weakly. The last vestige of her strength was leaving her. She was not long for this world but she couldn't be bothered to care. The child would be cared for by these muggles. Maybe in the next she wouldn't have to suffer as she had here.

"What shall his name be?" The matron questioned her. 'Can't they let me die in peace?' She thought.

"Tom…" She said quietly in between breaths. "For his father… Marvolo… For mine… Riddle."

The women in the room looked at each other and shrugged. "Well, Tom is a fine name. And he is a fine baby. Very handsome. Would you like to hold him?" Before she gave an answer, she felt a bundle being pushed into her arms.

'Why not?' She would have shrugged if she had the strength. 'It's not for long after all.'

As soon as she took him, the crying stopped. She looked down into her baby boy's dark eyes. The same color of eyes as his father, but they were strangely different. In the eyes of her son there was a look of innocence and something unfamiliar to her. No one had ever looked at her that way. Not her father or brother, not even Tom when he was under the potions influence. Could this possibly be… Was this what real love felt like?

Mother and son stared at each other and tears started to fall down Merope's face. "Tom." She brought the baby tight to her chest and rocked it as the tears continued to flow. This child was hers. She knew he loved her, and she realized then and there that she loved him. Not mere infatuation as with the father, nor out of a sense of familial duty. For the first time in her life, Merope Gaunt loved another being with all her heart and that love was reciprocated.

'It isn't fair. After all this time… I've gotten nothing but pain all my life and only as I'm about to die do I get to feel real love? I don't want this! I don't want to leave him! I want to live! I have to live.'

Very few understand the great intricacies of the force we call magic. Even fewer would be able to explain the true power of love. It is the oldest and most powerful magic there is, and no love is more sacred than that of a mother for their child. The love within the young witch sparked something that had died long ago, reigniting her heart with a flame so strong and pure, that not even her impending death could snuff it out. It healed her, revitalized her. Her magic resonated with that of the child's and the strength she received was unlike anything she had felt before.

The orphanage workers stared at her in disbelief. Only moments ago, she was on the brink of death, barely able to lift her head. Now, her face looked healthy, and her body was strong. To this day, those present swore that she was actually glowing.

"Good heavens." The matron breathed. "It's a miracle."

Merope looked from her son, up at the women and smiled. "Thank you." Without another word, the girl leaned back, exhausted not only from the ordeal of childbirth, but also from the surge of magic. She slept, but she yet lived, the mother of Tom, Marvolo Riddle.

Break

Early in the morning, Tom the barman was readying the Leaky cauldron for the coming day. With the aid of magic, he was wiping down tables and moving the chairs to the ground. Behind the bar, he was wiping dust off some glasses while humming a little tune. His humming was interrupted when someone knocked at the front door. Without even looking up, he yelled out "The pub is closed for the night!" Then he went back to humming.

The knocking came back, even louder this time.

"Go away please! Come back when we're open!" Tom increased his volume as well. Technically, he was always open, but if they were knocking, they didn't know that. Normally he wouldn't turn away customers, but the New Year's Eve party goers had given him a headache and he was enjoying his own company. He started singing. "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts-"

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

Whoever it was, clearly wasn't giving up. Rolling his eyes and reaching for his wand, as well as his stick of solid English oak, he walked out from behind the bar.

"Oh, alright, I'm coming! Better bloody well be important." He opened the door with his wand and held his weapons ready to strike if it were anyone unsavory. He nearly dropped the cudgel when he saw who was at the door. A skinny young woman, dressed in rags and holding a bundle of blankets was shivering on the doorstep. She looked nearly starved and penniless, but she held a determined look in her eyes despite her apparent misfortune.

"P-p-please s-s-sir." She said through chattering teeth. "M-m-may I-"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, come in, come in." Even if she had no money, Tom couldn't just let her freeze to death. Ushering her in, he quickly closed the door and pulled out a chair by the fireplace. "Here, sit down and warm yourself up a bit. That's a girl." She sat down and felt as though she would melt when she felt the heat wash over her. While she relaxed into the warmth of the fire, she still clutched the bundle to her chest. Tom waved his wand, conjured a teacup and poured some steaming hot tea into it.

"Here, aint no night to be out in. Specially dressed like that." He handed the tea to her before sitting down and she nodded gratefully.

"Thank you, sir. Y-you're very kind." She still had the chills, but the tea was helping defrost her insides. "I-I was wondering, that is…"

"You need a room? Well, forgive me for saying so, but you don't exactly look like you could foot the bill. No offense mean you understand."

Her eyes went wide. "No, I-"

"You can warm yourself in here till the cold dies down and I can give ya a hot meal while you wait, but I'm afraid I can't do much more than that."

"I want a job." She blurted out and Tom looked at her in surprise. "I need a job and I'm a good worker. I know how to cook and clean. I can scrub dishes or sweep the floors, anything you need."

"Well…" Tom stroked his chin and looked at her. She was obviously in need of money, he wished he could help her. "The thing is, I'm not looking for more help just now." He explained apologetically.

"Please, I don't need paying, just a few meals a day and maybe a place to stay. It doesn't have to be a room either, the basement will be fine if it's convenient." Desperation was thick in her voice.

Tom gave her a long and sympathetic look. He felt for the girl, he really did. "How old are you girl?"

"N-nineteen."

"Well, I'm sorry, but if you need a place, you ought to go back home to your parents. I'm sure their worried sick for you." Tom thought that she had all the hallmarks of a runaway.

"I… I can't. Their dead. I really am a hard worker. I'll do anything."

Tom shook his head. "I'm sorry to hear that. Truly I am. But I can't help you more than I said I would. I really don't need any help around here." He got up from his chair to go back to work.

"PLEASE!" She begged, and Tom turned around when he heard a soft cooing sound.

"Uah."

"Oh nonono, shshsh. It's ok. It's ok." Tom looked at the girl who was talking to the bundle.

"What uh… What do you have there in that bundle?"

She looked at the landlord and tilted her arms upwards so Tom could see a tiny face peeking out of the cloth. The man sat down, looking at the baby. "Oh…" was all the landlord could say. He looked from the mother to her child. "How old is the little one?"

"Yesterday was his birthday." She replied.

"Merlin woman, and your up and about so soon after giving birth! And in this weather of all things. Why you could've died out there, and him along with you!" As Tom lectured, Merope tried to fight back her tears. "I mean, what in Morgana's name were you thinking?"

"I-I don't have anywhere to go." She choked out quietly.

Tom sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "Well, what's the little fella's name?"

"Tom." She said as she stared lovingly at her child.

"You don't say?" Old Tom smiled and leaned forward, reaching a finger out to baby Tom. "Well, I suppose we might be able to work something out for the two of you. I can't pay you much mind-"

"I don't need paying." Merope said quickly, not wanting to lose her bargain. "Just some food and a place to sleep. I promise we won't be a burden, I'll work really hard."

"So you've said." Tom smiled. "Well, I suppose I can spare one of the smaller rooms for you and little Tom. And I can do three meals a day easy if you don't mind helping in the kitchen."

"Oh, yes sir, I can do that." She said eagerly.

"Now about your wages."

"I told you, we don't need payment." Perhaps it was foolish of her to reject the money offered, but she was desperate. For all she knew, the man's good will would change the next day, or he would feel like he shouldn't have to pay and feed them, then he would kick them out. Merope didn't have a lot in the way of street smarts and perhaps her logic made no sense. But she had a determination to keep her and her son alive, and if that meant living like a house elf, then that's what she would do.

"Well, we can haggle on that later. For now, how about I get you that hot meal and a room ready. You can start next week."

"Oh no sir, I can start today if it pleases you." She got up and almost spilled her tea.

Tom chuckled. "Sorry girl, but you look like you won't be much good till you get your rest. Childbirth aint no picnic from what I hear." Merope was about to protest, but Tom held up a hand. "Rest up and I promise, there will be plenty of work waiting for you afterwards. I'm Tom by the way. Call me old Tom if you like. To avoid confusion." He gestured to her baby.

The girl nodded. "Merope G… Merope Riddle."

"Pleased to meet you ma'am."

End chapter