Ok, I've been thinking about this for a very long time. My first Harry Potter fiction. Strangely enough, this isn't about Harry.... no way. It's about Tom, Tom Marvolo Riddle; the Dark Lord Voldemort. But I, unlike almost everyone else, feel sorry for him. I want to make him the good guy. Misunderstood, not evil. He can feel pain, hate, anger, happiness, love.... Moaning Myrtle and Minerva McGonagall play huge parts in this fiction. One of them, I'm not sure yet, will play the love interest.... or I might toss myself in there to love him:) I still don't know what to call it. I think I'll come up with a good one after I write the first chapter. I don't even know if this will be apart of the actual chapter. If it is and some people actually read it, this is me rambling, a pep talk, trying to sort out my thoughts. Anyway, let me get started on this, and I'll need to get a beta.

Chapter 1- I'm a WHAT?!

"Tom! Where are you boy?!"
The small boy called Tom rolled his eyes. "I'm here, Mrs. Lansing."
Tom Riddle was hiding. From that crazy woman screaming for him to be exact. The new manager of St. Mary's Orphanage (original name, huh?) was Mrs. Jean Lansing. She was in her mid thirties, with light brown hair, blue eyes, and she was unbelievably perky. Mrs. Lansing was admired by many of the children and other workers there because she a) didn't favor anyone, like the last manager, b) was disgustingly sweet, and c) she worked just as hard as everyone else there. She believed that all the children there would be adopted any day. To make everyone feel special, like they actually meant something to this world, she started having birthday parties for the kids. Today was Tom's birthday. 'They can't have a birthday party without the guest of honor, right?' he thought. 'I can't be the only one in this ruddy orphanage whose birthday is on June 26th.'
"There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. I have wonderful news!" Mrs. Lansing was practically skipping with joy as she dragged an unwilling Tom behind her. "There are some very nice couples here today, and they want to meet you! They may be Americans but they seem to be very nice people."
"Wow, they came all the way from America just to see little old me. Don't I feel loved," he said. Too bad his sarcasm was totally lost on the hyper woman in front of them.
"That's the spirit! Now, just throw that charming smile of yours on and you'll be joining them in no time."
'Like hell I will.'
The had reached the dining hall, where every orphan was gathered, eating cake and talking. There were teachers walking around making sure that everything was ok. The American couple Mrs. Lansing was talking about were standing in the corner, trying not to intrude on the party.
'And there goes Shanks,' Tom thought bitterly. A chubby blonde haired boy of about 12 had just walked up to the couple. He was obviously trying to get in their good graces so that they'd get him out of there. Even though Tom had been sarcastic and apparently uncaring before, he couldn't help but feel jealous when they started talking to Sean Shanks, smiling and laughing at his dumb jokes.
"Thank you for having this party for me, Mrs. Lansing. No one's ever really cared about my birthday before," he said in a sweet voice.
Her eyes filled to the brim with tears, just like he knew they would. He smirked inside, this should keep him out of trouble for at least a week.

"You are quite welcome, Tom. Happy birthday dear." Dabbing at her eyes, she walked away to talk to the math teacher, who also happened to be her husband.
Tom looked back to the American couple and to his relief, saw that Shanks had left them alone, in favor of getting more cake. With a deep breath, Tom walked over to them.
"Hello," he said politely. He gave the couple a quick look. The woman was very pretty, with dark red hair and chocolate brown eyes. She seemed to be rather short, only a head taller than Tom, and he was the smallest boy in his year. The man on the other hand, was not so attractive. He had light brown hair and brown eyes as well. But he had a long scar from his left eye to his chin. He was a bit on the heavy side and had a long beard. They were both dressed in what appeared to be very expensive clothes. Next to them, Tom felt very out of place in his worn shoes and trousers with a hole in the knee.
"Well hello there! What's your name darling?" the woman said.
"Tom, ma'am, Tom Marvolo Riddle."
"Well Tom Marvolo Riddle, I'm Betty Harper, and this is my husband, George."
"How do you do, sir?" he asked the man.
Mr. Harper chuckled. "Such a polite young boy! But this can't be how you normally are, is it?"
Tom wanted to say, "Yes, of course. We're taught that being polite is always the right thing to do." But what came out was, "Hell no."
The Harpers looked shocked at this. Then they burst out laughing.
"I- I- I'm sorry! I d-d-d-didn't mean to say that," Tom said in a horrified voice.
"No need to be sorry, boy! As a matter of a fact, I'm glad you said that. Means you're honest, and a normal kid to boot!" laughed Mr. Harper.
"Oh yes!" agreed Mrs. Harper. "We've been to 6 different orphanages, and all the children were nice, polite, sweet. None of them were real. Like your friend Sean, he tried to show us that he was the ideal boy to adopt, but I got the feeling that he's really a big bully. Am I right?"
Tom nodded. "He's not the nicest of kids."
"And you are?"
"Now, I didn't say that," Tom smiled.
They laughed again. "So, come, sit down with us, and tell us a little about yourself."
"Um, ok," Tom said. He led them to a few chairs on the far wall. "What do you want to know?"
"As much as you want to tell," Mrs. Harper said.
"Alright. My name's Tom Marvolo Riddle. I've been here all my life, I like to read, I'm good at math and history, and today I'm 11 years old."
"Today's your birthday?" Mr. Harper asked in a surprised voice.
"Uh huh, I think I'm the only one because Mrs. Lansing hasn't asked for all the kids to go up to the front. She only does that if there's more than 5 kids who has a birthday that day," Tom replied.
"Happy birthday then, Mr. Riddle," said Mrs. Harper.
"Thank you."
"So, what did you want for your birthday?" Mr. Harper asked.
Tom thought for a minute. "A snake," he answered.
At this, George Harper smiled his widest yet. "Be right back."
With that, he got up and walked out of the room.
"I'm a bit scared about what he's leaving to do," said Mrs. Harper. "He never tells me these things."
A few minutes later, Mr. Harper walked back, but he wasn't alone. "Happy birthday, Tom." And he handed Tom a very small, but very real, green garden snake.
"Oh my God, thanks!" Tom said in an awed voice.
"No problem. Now if you'll excuse us, we have to go. Sorry, but we'll be back, to make sure you're taking proper care of that animal," Mr. Harper winked.
"Goodbye, Tom," Mrs. Harper kissed him on the cheek. "See you soon."
They walked over to Mrs. Lansing to shake hands and say goodbye. Mrs. Harper pointed to Tom and started waving her hands around. Lansing just smiled and nodded. When the Harpers finally left, Mrs. Lansing came to Tom. He shoved the snake that he had been petting down the front of his shirt. "Hi, Mrs. Lansing."
"Tom, I don't know what you did, but they loved you!" she sounded shocked.
'Wasn't this the woman who told me not to long ago that I would be adopted for sure, how could anyone resist me?' he thought.
"Yeah, they were really nice to me."
"Well, I'm about to get everyone out of here and on to bed, but I have a gift for you," she said.
Tom was surprised, she didn't give anyone else presents. 'So much for not favoring anyone.' She handed him a book. He looked at the cover and couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks Mrs. Harper. I always wanted a snake, and after I read this, I'll know how to care for one."
"Well, you can get a snake when you're out of here with the Harpers. Not while you're in my orphanage of course. I hate snakes," she shivered. "Well, goodnight Tom."
"'Night."
'As long as she doesn't know about Creeper, she'll be fine.' Tom went upstairs to the room he shared with 8 other boys. He was the only one up there for the next ten minutes at least. He changed quickly and put Creeper (the snake) on his pillow. "Goodnight, Creeper," he said tiredly. He must've been hearing things, because the last thing he heard before falling asleep was a small voice hissing, "Ssssweet dreamsss, Tom Riddle."

A/N: Ok, now I bet that the 3 people that read this are wondering what the hell this has to do with Tom Riddle and his life at Hogwarts. This is just a bit of background info. I couldn't really figure out a good way to start this, and Tom didn't turn out exactly the way I wanted. But I didn't want to make him all sad and depressed. He's sarcastic just the way I wanted, but he actually is acting like a kid. I was going to make him have an awful childhood, but that would bee too much like this fic on schnoogle that I read some of. I can't remember what it was called or who it was by, but if you actually want to know, tell me in your review. Please review! Even if it's a flame, but be warned, I will be saying something to you the next time I update. At least I'll try to update. I like to ramble a bit before and after the chapters, a bad habit I picked up from the two manga's that I read. Ok, I really have to stop now. This was my first hp fic, btw. And I'm American, so the talk might not be right. And obviously, I don't know a damn thing about the late 1930s. Anyway, REVIEW PLEASE.

This is Tom's story. How he came to Hogwarts, his friends, thoughts, feelings, and relationships with the other students. But why did this brilliant student stray from the Light? Summary sucks, I know... But please read anyway!