Telemarketing
Tom Riddle hated telemarketing. He got calls every day and every night, at all times. They came in his dreams, in wealth and in poverty, in sickness and in health. And they didn't stop. He'd get rid of the phone, of course, but he didn't actually have one. See, one of the most annoying tasks, back at the orphanage, was answering the phone. Not only was the thing far away from the rooms, but phone duty meant being available the whole time, doing nothing. He couldn't even foist it on one of the other kids—sometimes one of the employees called, and they'd know it wasn't him answering. So he'd wished he could answer without going to the phone... and he'd never been able to undo that bit of accidental magic. He'd destroyed the original phone, but that hadn't helped. So he went around the country, killing muggles, screaming at them to "STOP CALLING ME". It never really helped either, but the desperate man still did it. Eventually, his attacks were noted by bigots, who identified in him the hatred they felt deep at heart. "He Who Must Not Be Called", they named him... Of course, it wasn't long until those who did not know the moniker's origin changed it to "He Who Must Not Be Named". "'Tis much better English", they said.
Extra: why Horcruxes? A desperate attempt to, in splitting the soul, splitting the calls. It did not work. Meanwhile: Dumbledore operates an illegal house elf call center out of the front business "Hogwarts". Tom tried to get in as an undercover agent, but he was denied. Such was his wrath that he cursed the place. Every Defence Professor quickly left the job or sought the sweet release of death... after all, their room was enchanted to receive a copy of every call the school made.
A/N: So people I showed this to told my I should post it. Now, I am not sure how I feel about posting a short joke like this, but here it is! I'll add future snippets as chapters, should any aver be written.