Disclaimers: None of this is mine. Except the plot… methinks.

Authors Notes: This is a companion to Ashes to Ashes. It consists of various snippets, some short and some long, in Tom's POV (both first and third person) before, during and after events in the original story. No slash in this one, I'm afraid.

Summary: Companion to Ashes to Ashes. Turned back to what he was before he was Voldemort. Before he had lost all trace of his innocence. But just how innocent is Tom Marvolo Riddle? Take a peek inside his head.

Ashes to Ashes:

Inside his head.

1938

A tall man with long auburn hair and a long beard of the same colour came the next day to explain to the orphanage people that I was a wizard and that I would have to go to Hogwarts. The man who said that his name was Professor Albus Dumbledore then said that he would be taking me to get my school supplies.

I followed the man outside eagerly wanting to ask him a hundred questions… and than I heard the same soft whispers that I had that day at the river.

"What does the Lion want with the heir of the Serpent?"

"No good shall come of this."

"We have waited too long to be deprived now, he must be dealt with."

"No… we will wait a while longer. The Lion will soon pay for his past treachery and the Raven and the Badger with him."

"When? When shall that be?"

"Soon. Very Soon. Soon we will act; but for now we wait."

I stopped in my tracks and looked wildly around for theses phantom whispers. Albus Dumbledore asked me what the matter was and I shook my head. For some reason the owners of the voices were not happy that this man had come to collect me. And it was obvious that the man hadn't heard what I had. I suddenly felt very disappointed. My new found status of wizard hood was barely two hours old and already I was different here as well. But I knew that I could not trust Albus Dumbledore.

The man was staring at me with bright blue unnerving eyes and it was as though he was looking straight into my heart and mind to see what was hidden there. I looked away uneasily and assured him that nothing was wrong and that I was just overwhelmed by the life altering events that had just transpired over the past few days.

Dumbledore smiled at me and told me that I would be even more overwhelmed before the day was done and then had asked me to hold onto a red and gold striped sock with him.

I thought it a very unusual request but had complied and the next thing I knew I felt a tug somewhere around my navel and we was suddenly spinning off into dizzying spiral.

After a few seconds I realised that that I was on solid ground again and was in the middle of a busy street full of people wearing long robes and pointed hats.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," said Dumbledore.

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The train journey was pleasant and the trip across the lake was… wet and the Sorting was creepy to say the least. I didn't like the feeling that something was looking into my head although I was intrigued with the possibility of looking at other people's thoughts. You never know what you might find there.

The Hat chuckled to itself. "Well, well," it said more to itself than to me. "Very interesting."

"Just get on with it," I thought.

"Touchy, aren't we?" it said. "SLYTHERIN!" with a cry that almost deafened me. I scowled at it and made my way to the Slytherin table amid the cursory applause.

The gaunt house specter the Bloody Baron floated up to me during the feast, later, to get a closer look.

"So you have returned," the Baron said.

I stared. "What? How do you mean returned?"

The Baron looked me up and down. "So that is how it is," he said to himself and then louder. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Young Slytherin."

The Baron floated off and I was left feeling numb and confused.

That night before I slept I found myself thinking of the black snake of my dreams. "Please do not make me wait much longer," I whispered.

Caelestis Malfoy, the boy who would later become my best – my closest confidant, stuck his head through the curtains. "Did you hear hissing?"

I shook my head. "Hissing?"

"Like a snake. It came from this direction."

I shook my head again, annoyed. I don't like my personal space being intruded upon. I supposed I ought to have got used to it - living at the orphanage for so many years but I hadn't. "I don't have a snake here. You must have imagined it. Goodnight Malfoy."

The blonde boy obviously knew a hint when he heard one and scowled fiercely but retreated nonetheless.

I found that I couldn't sleep for a very long time. The events of the day and those before it kept going round and round in my mind.

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He did not dream of the snake that night but two months later on the date of his birth when the castle had been bedecked in pumpkins and after the feast of All Hallows Eve he found that sleep, once again, evaded him.

Eventually sleep came to him in the early hours of the morning. He saw the black snake again and she looked at him rather sadly.

"You are he who was promised, 'tis true, but you are weaker than we had hoped."

He could feel anger stab at him. Hot and sharp instead of the cold fury that he was used to.

"Why do you say that I am weak?" he asked.

"Your blood," she said. "The weakness of your father flows through your veins."

"My father?" What had his father got to do with anything? "My father is …"

"A vile creature. Dirty, filthy blood with not a drop of magic."

"He was a Muggle."

"Is child. Your father is a Muggle. He lives on."

He was stunned. This was the first that he had heard of it. If his father was alive they why had he been living in the orphanage for all his life? He turned to the snake and could have sworn that she was smiling mockingly at him.

"Your mother was weak too, poor foolish creature. She set her heart on one so much below her and when he found out what she was he sent her away. Even with you still in her womb. For he wished that you were dead before you were born."

His mouth had gone very dry even though it were nothing but a dream and his heart was pounding and no matter how different or special or capable of greatness he was he still felt as wretched as an eleven year old can feel when told that his supposedly dead father was still alive and wished for him to be dead.

"'Tis an ill omen. To wish a babe death afore it has life. And the weakness is there."

"I am not weak!" he said coldly. "I am not my father!"

She seemed pleased. "You have spirit… and strength. You are true even though your blood lacks."

"Who am I?" he asked, still cold, still angry but with an effort to be polite. It would not do to anger this snake.

"You are the one who speaks. The one true heir."

He frowned. The one who speaks. Speaks what? But wait… she is a snake so if he speaks to her then -

"Did you hear hissing?… Like a snake… "

"I'm a parselmouth," he said remembering something he read from one of the books he bought from Diagon Alley. It made sense. That's why he could hear soft whispers that no-one else could. They were snakes talking not people. It all made perfect sense now and he wondered why it had taken him so long to realize it.

He thought back on everything that had happened over the past months.

"The house of the Snake shall rise again."

"What does the Lion want with the heir of the Serpent?"

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Young Slytherin."

He swallowed. "I'm Slytherins' heir?"

She bared her fangs at him into a terrible parody of a grin. "You are sharp, young one. You shall do well. You have much work to do."

She had said that to him the first time he had dreamt of her.

"What work is it that I must do?" he asked only this time there was none of the childish awe and wonder with which he had first held her in.

"'Tis your duty to fulfill the noble work of Slytherin. The Chamber must be opened and the castle purged of the filth that occupies it."

He had read of the Chamber of Secrets. He scowled. "You want me to unleash a monster and kill all the Muggleborn? Why should I?"

She thrashed her tail angrily. "Foolish creature, like your mother before you. She was strong but not strong enough. Her will was weak. And for that your father as good as killed her. He would have killed you too given half the chance. All Muggles are like that - afraid and vengeful of what they cannot have. Have you ever met a Muggle who did not try to crush you? Have you ever met a Muggle who did not belittle you for what you should be honoured for?"

He thought of the taunts and the jeers and the punches and punishments. He thought of the cupboard under the stairs and the cellar. He thought of the humiliation and the degradation and how much he wanted to show them how much he hated them all. The pain of knowing that his father was another one of these creatures was still fresh in his mind and he was filled with a cold rage that chilled his blood and bones to the very core. He was more used to this sort of anger but this was so intense and severe that he could barely breathe.

The snake was watching him intently.

"The Muggleborn are just as bad. They bring more filth with them. They bring the Muggles closer and closer to your world and soon they shall try to destroy your kind. You are aware of what they are. How can you doubt?"

The more he thought about it the more it made sense.