A teenager named Tom Riddle, a name to fit the character. He was a mystery, an orphan, and he became a great wizard. Remember, a wizard doesn't have to be good to be great. Some say that Riddle used to be a good, kind boy, one who opened doors for people, helped old ladies across the street; all the good stuff a little boy was supposed to do. These people never knew him well; they saw him from the eyes of normal, regular people. The counselors at the orphanage didn't know what to make of him when he came in to discuss life. He had such strange ideas about the world. He once tried to convince his caretaker that he was a god. The only reason the counselor saw him for this was because the caretaker was found groveling at the feet of the 10-year-old. Needless to say, the orphanage would never tell any potential adopters about Riddle's amazing powers. Still, Riddle was lonely all of his life. This was because those people who tried adopting him always discovered some strange aura of malice surrounding the child. They would spend an hour with the boy and leave the orphanage shivering and clammy, as though they had passed through some terrifying mental struggle. This was in some part true. Riddle wanted so much to belong to a family, wanted love, and sought those who would care for him so fervently, that he would ensnare the simple minds of those lonely people that came looking for a child's companionship. He didn't do this on purpose, it was his own inner magic forcing him to control others. Sometimes he would hear voices in his head, enraged and slimy whispers of long-dead pasts, trying to claw their way back into the surface. Death is likened to a deep pool, the voices whispered to him once, There is a coldness in your arrival, and then the quiet creeps in. It grips you, searing your flesh and tearing it from your dead and tired bones. You can try to ease the pain in screans, but they don't do very well. There is no release from this pain, the pain will follow you from this life to mine, my deep pool. God! God has forsaken this place, there is no God to sire a barren wasteland like this dreary obstinate pool. It drags me down further, and soon I will not speak to you, innocent, anymore. Give my message to the world, that all those who survive in faith and hope for a release from the slow, wandering ordeals of life, be warned! This was once a heaven but God is a mortal! No one is doomed to Hell, for the Grims no longer stay their task. All are sorted into the Upper Realms, and those that should have been punished are running rampant in this pool of souls. Live as long as you can, Tom Riddle, for the Heaven that your religions envision was destroyed when God and his angels fell. The Grim grows impatient, and I feel his pull on me, I must leave!
Riddle never heard the voice again, but he heeded its message. He was always looking, not for answers, but for a way, a way to live forever. Riddle was a dreamer, and he had long considered the fundamental truths of life, not ever concluding until he felt he was unshakably correct. He came to believe the following things: In life, there is only oneself, and trust was the basis of futility. There was no supreme being, that the being was mentally created, and that he was smarter, better, and stronger than anyone else.
When he realized his magical powers, they consumed him, drawing a hard path for the future. He carved his name in the agonized screams of innocent charmers, good people, and great sorcerers. He was a legend before the age of 24, feared and loathed by all who knew of him. His name was never uttered, and mothers were even afraid to scare their children into bed with the mention of You-Know-Who.
He took the lives of all people, it didn't matter to him. He knew what he was, knew the horrible creature that he had become, and this hurt and angered him even more. It drove him to new magic, evil magic, powerful magic. Before long, he was nearly immortal, doing as he pleased, flirting with the Grim, who was furious at the arrogance of a once mortal, sniveling little rodent.
He took his need to be loved and destroyed it, mentally preparing himself for all of his emotional failures, and his tangible successes. He now saw other people as chess pieces, gently but firmly caressing their minds until he felt they were ready for use. If the shell were a considerably prominent politician, then Riddle would use his gentile brain to coerce certain laws to be passed. The nature of these laws were generally child related, allowing for easier adoptions, and lenient punishments to kidnappers.
Riddle had found a way to live forever, but after his fall as Lord Voldemort, he needed to find a suitable body to possess. He foresaw this as a child while attending Hogwarts, a prestigious magicians' university, and set these laws in motions to aid his cause.
Now he had found the boy, after 12 years of waiting. What was once the great Lord Voldemort seethed through the darkness, and as Hogwarts came into view through the Forbidden Forest, whispered evilly, "Neville…"