Disclaimer: I will be borrowing these characters and the setting from JKR, but this is an alternative universe, and the plot will not be a repeat of the books. We will be following Tom Marvolo Riddle as the main character. No pairings.
The wooden cottage laid in ruins, torn apart by some inhuman force of astonishing brutality. The roof was missing completely, and the walls were collapsed outwards, making for a sorry sight. You could still make out the dining room, a table set for two, a little crib, all exposed to the world as if in a dollhouse.
The nearby area also fell victim to this terrible violence. Many of the surrounding trees were fallen, their roots, taller than a man, now shooting up to the sky. Others were dangerously leaning on their neighbors, yet to fall. A few were just splintered stumps.
A man was making his way through this devastation. He wasn't having an easy time of it, stumbling through the maze of broken branches.
"Damn, what a mess!" he loudly proclaimed, after having jumped up onto a collapsed tree trunk. "Now that's what I call a tornado."
He was young, with black, unkempt hair, and a face that was clearly not shaven in a while. He was still handsome in spite of this rugged look, however, it was clear that a heavy burden of some kind was taking a toll on him.
"Please, can we go back," said a woman who was nervously following him. "I don't think this was a tornado."
She was of similar age, but much more plain looking than the man. The way she carried herself was rather timid and jumpy.
"What are you talking about," replied the man cheerfully. He now noticed the ruin of the cottage in the distance. "Let's go take a look."
He jumped off the tree that he was standing on, nearly falling over in the process. Before coming on this little trip, he had something to drink, which was a new habit of his.
Soon, they arrived at the site of the ruins, the wreckage scattered on the whole clearing. The man spotted somebody lying motionless on the ground, and approached to have a closer look.
"What the hell is he wearing?" he said as he knelt next to the unconscious man. "Weirdo. That's a nice ring though."
The unfortunate man was in his prime, and dressed in some sort of a vivid magenta robe. His face bore striking, nearly aristocratic features, and it was surprisingly clean and unmarred in contrast to his surroundings. In fact, had no visible sign of injury, but for some reason wasn't moving at all.
"What are you doing?" asked the woman, shock in her voice, as she noticed her companion patting down the body.
"What do you think I'm doing? I'm taking his stuff," he replied with an annoyed tone. "He's a corpse anyway."
The woman left him to his own devices, and went on to investigate the ruins. She was looking at her feet, carefully avoiding the broken glass, so she didn't even notice the cadaver until a few paces away.
"A woman!" she cried out in fright. "A wooden beam crushed her to death!"
This macabre scene was too much for her, and so she looked away in fright. Then, she heard something: it was a soft crying of an infant, a sound which made her regain her courage.
She moved deeper into the wreckage, and sure enough, as if through a miracle, there was a completely unharmed infant - just laying there, all wrapped up. She picked it up, with care and affection.
"I found a baby! It's unharmed!" she called out, joy in her voice.
"What do I care? We already have a kid at home woman, so don't even think about another one. Now, what are these weird coins?"
Just as he said those words, a hand grabbed him. The supposedly deceased man that he was currently robbing, now regained consciousness.
"You… You came to rescue me," he said. "Thank you."
The man paused, as if every word was a great effort, but then he immediately continued, in visible distress.
"My wife and son," he said with great dread. "Are they alive?"
"Your son is unhurt," replied the thief, unnerved at the dead returning to life. "But I am afraid that your wife has passed away."
Tears started running down the man's face, his features contorted from this great sorrow. He took a moment to compose himself, and then continued speaking.
"I must thank you for saving my son and myself," he said despite his pain. "My name is James Potter. Please, tell me, tell me your name, before I lose consciousness."
The thief quickly adjusted to the new set of circumstances, thankful for the favorable turn of events, as the man was clearly rich, and an easy target.
"Tom Riddle, at your service." He replied with a smile, not at all ashamed of trying to rob the man's possessions a few moments ago.
"Mr. Riddle, the Potters, whatever is left of us… we will never forget what you did today."
There were two people in the small, shabby room. One of them was currently lying in bed, shivering from a high fever. His bloated face was coated in sweat, and he was mumbling something to himself.
However, one would be hard pressed to feel sorry for this man, for the impression that he gave off was quite repulsive. His face was red and his eyes were yellowed, a visible sign of the long years of drinking. Time was not kind to Tom Riddle.
On the other side of the shabby room was a boy, no more than ten years old. In stark contrast to the older man, he looked as if he cared much about his appearance, but a keen observer would nevertheless pick up something very wrong about him.
However, on the surface, he seemed well raised and intelligent. Despite being cheap, his clothes were clean and neat. He sat next to a small table, reading a book, completely engrossed in it. Then, he was soon interrupted by a loud groan coming from the bed.
"What is it father? Should I give you your medicine?" asked the boy politely.
"No medicine!" Riddle shouted, with delirious annoyance. "These quacks don't know anything. It's all a scam, they're trying to swindle me."
With a shaking hand, he reached over to the bedside table, and grabbed a bottle of a strong spirit. Riddle tried taking a swig, but soon realized that it was empty.
"Bring me another bottle, boy!" he yelled and angrily threw the empty bottle. It shattered against the wall.
"Please father, be quiet, or we will be thrown out," said the boy as he closed his book and stood up.
He walked over to a cupboard, and picked out a small bottle. Unscrewing the top off the cheap liquor, he handed it to his father.
"Now, that's all the medicine I need," Riddle said, chuckling to himself. "What a good son I have."
His son was named Tom after him, and Marvolo after his wife's father. She was dead for a long time now, so the son was essentially taking care of his father. As Tom Riddle Senior grew sick, most likely due to his alcoholism, he decided that they were moving back to Little Hangleton, a small town where he was born. Despite it being his home town, he wasn't welcome at all.
Over a decade ago, when Merope became pregnant, he went to his parents and announced that he was going to marry her. Completely shocked at the news, they didn't react well. A row broke out, Tom Riddle almost became violent, as he wouldn't tolerate any insult against his betrothed's family. His parents considered the Gaunts to be destitute and immoral lunatics, and they told their son as much, utterly appalled at his frivolous actions. He couldn't stand what they were saying and left.
He run off from Little Hangleton with Merope, and shortly after, she gave birth to a child. They were happy for a while. However, as if waking up from a daze, Tom Riddle Senior one day realized his complete lack of affection towards his new family.
What brought on this sudden change of heart, he couldn't even fully understand himself. He tried going back to his parents, but found out that they had already disowned him. Without any money, and without any prospects, with a wife and son that didn't even feel like his own, he turned to drinking.
Now, feeling as if death was soon approaching, he moved with his son back to Little Hangleton, to satisfy his spite, to show his parents, and everybody else he once knew, what misfortune had befallen him, all because of how they turned their back on him.
As his father passed out drunk, Tom Riddle Junior slipped out onto the street. It was getting dark now, and the chill air welcomed him with a cold embrace, cleansing from him the stench of the apartment.
Little Hangleton looked like any other small town in England, full of dreary grey houses, each one nearly identical. The liquor store shone from across the street, conveniently close, and always open.
Tom passed it, not really paying attention to his surroundings. The street was empty, occasionally a car drove by. As he walked, the houses were getting scarcer, and shortly all that remained was the road, walled off from both sides by trees.
Soon there was a break in the trees, a dirt road going up into the wilderness, which he took. After a brief hike, he found himself up on a hill, overlooking the town. It glowed with flickering rows of lights, surprisingly beautiful from a distance, as if veins of gold.
Tom stepped onto the grass, found a comfortable spot by a tree, and laid down, submerging himself in the tall vegetation. He closed his eyes and listened.
At first he heard the chirping of the crickets, the buzzing of winged insects above him, trees rustling in the wind. Then, he finally heard what he was looking for.
Soft hissing was coming from somewhere in the clearing. He hissed back, and it fell silent for a moment. Soon it came back, doubled and tripled, from several different locations. It came nearer.
Snakes slithered out from the grass around the boy, and he sat up, watching. They crawled about around him, occasionally making noises. He could make out words from their hissing, but didn't really bother paying attention too closely.
Tom picked up one of them with his hands, looked at it, but then dissatisfied, let it go. This repeated a couple times, until apparently he found what he was looking for in one of the brown snakes, and stood up, taking it with him.
He walked a couple steps, but then stopped and turned back, snatching a second snake at random from the ground. He smiled to himself, and the snakes coiled around his arms.
Instead of returning the same way that he came from, he took a detour, and followed the road until he came upon a residence, somewhat isolated from the town. It was surrounded by a low stone fence, meant for keeping in sheep.
"Hey! Took you long enough," said a young voice. On the fence sat a teenager, perhaps a few years older than Tom.
"Hi. Let's go somewhere with more light."
"So, you've got it?" said the teen as he jumped off from where he was sitting.
"Of course. If you've got the money," replied Tom. They walked towards the house, where one of the white walls had a light shining on the outside, and huddled around it.
"It's right around your arm!" said the teen, excited. The snake reared its head up, and was tasting the air with its tongue. "What does it eat?"
"You can feed it frogs, or just any meat and it'll be fine. Fish too, they're excellent swimmers," replied Tom.
"It's not venomous though, right?" asked the boy, nervously.
"Of course not," replied Tom, annoyed. "Just give me the money and it's yours."
"About that, no way I'm paying that much for a snake. And it's not like it cost you anything to catch it."
"You're absolutely right."
"What?" said the teenager, taken off balance. Last time they met, Tom was rather hard on driving up the price.
"No grass snake is worth that much, you'd pay like half in a pet shop. Tell you what, I'll even give you a second snake for free," said Tom as he showed off his other arm. "And this second snake, let me tell you, is not some boring grass snake – it's a viper."
"Get that away from me!" cried the teenager, backed against the wall.
"In this light they're almost indistinguishable from one another. Notice, however, the triangular shape of its head, housing the glands filled with venom. The black zigzag running along it's body. The –"
"Alright, alright, I'll pay you!"
"Be quiet, you'll wake up your parents. They don't want you playing around with snakes," replied Tom mockingly.
"Put it away, here's your money," the teen whispered, struggling to keep his voice down. He took out his wallet, but didn't know what to do with it, not having the courage to extend his arm.
"I'm glad we could come to an agreement. You'll find that it's quite useless to argue with me," said Tom, and let the viper slither away into the grass.
"You cunt, that was the first snake you showed me!"
"You're correct. It also was the viper," replied Tom, pocketing the money and throwing away the wallet.
After some hesitation, the teen shoved the grass snake into his backpack, and having regained some courage, decided to take revenge on the younger boy by kicking him, "Take that, you psycho."
Tom bent in half from the kick to his stomach, but it was the older teenager that cried out instead, "Help! Mom, dad, there's that weird boy again!"
Deciding not to wait for adults to show up, and doubled in pain, Tom staggered into the darkness. He tumbled over the fence, just as he heard people start coming out from the house.
The dirt road was smooth enough, even in the dark he was able to pick up a brisker pace. Feeling better, and only occasionally stumbling over a stone, he soon left the commotion behind.
Tom thought about the viper he let go, but it was definitely gone by now. However, as it probably wouldn't be able to cross the stone fence, he hoped it would at least bite somebody in there. In any case, he got the money.
It wasn't long before he arrived back in town, and slipped back in, unnoticed, into the apartment. Careful as to not wake up his father, he stashed his spoils, and prepared for bed.
He smiled as he was falling asleep: just another successful day.
(AN) As some of you might have noticed, I was inspired by a certain manga, which I used as a starting point. However, the fanfiction quickly lead me somewhere more original, so don't expect anything more like that after the prologue.