Disclaimer: I don't own the characters (please see chapter one of "Draco's Hunger" for a list of things I do own).
A/N: anyway, this is a story about Tom Riddle…or Voldemort…sort of both. It's got a really stupid typical plot but it's done in a silly way so it doesn't bother me. Tom Riddle is such an awesome evil name. Plot suggestions are needed.
Voldemort woke up one morning feeling like something terrible was going to happen that day. He wasn't too concerned because he felt like that frequently and, being the Dark Lord, he had to accept that some bad things were going to happen. He had decided long ago that he would only react to the really terrible ones. "Wormtail!" he called, deciding to start the day.
Almost immediately, Wormtail appeared next to his bed, "Yes, my lord?" he said.
"Bring my orange juice."
"Yes, my lord," Wormtail said, scurrying towards the door.
"Oh, one more thing."
Wormtail inclined his head, as if to say, "Yes, my lord?"
"How did you get here so quickly? If I didn't know better I'd say that you stand outside my door all the time, waiting for me to call you."
"Oh…" Wormtail began, shifting from foot to foot uneasily, "don't be silly…."
"Silly? You dare call me, Lord Voldemort, The Dark Lord, silly?"
Wormtail looked incredibly anxious, "Oh! No, my lord, I was talking to myself."
Voldemort could see through the obvious lie but he wanted his orange juice to arrive quickly so he decided not to press the matter any further. "All right, go get the orange juice," he sighed.
"Yes, my lord," this time Wormtail dashed out the door, which was much faster than scurrying but scurrying is more rat-like. When he got to the kitchen, he poured the orange juice and started muttering about how Voldemort didn't appreciate him at all and if he were gone, who would fetch the master's orange juice every morning? He continued this moronic musing until he saw a small vial sitting on the kitchen counter. "Hello…" he said devilishly, "what's this?" He picked up the vial and read the label. All it said was, "Do not feed to Voldemort." 'Well, whatever it is,' he thought, 'Voldemort will learn his lesson when he drinks it.' And so, completely oblivious to the consequences, he poured the contents of the vial into the orange juice and carried it up to Voldemort. Soon he was in the master bedroom. He set the tray on the bedside table and said, "Your juice, my lord," and bowed out of the room.
Voldemort took a sip of the juice and couldn't help but notice that it had an odd, bitter taste. He weighed the possible consequences of drinking it against his desire for the daily glass of orange juice and decided to drink it. Soon he had finished the entire glass of smooth, tangy orange juice and decided to get dressed. He picked out an outfit from his evil closet and went to the mirror to prepare for the day. When he reached the mirror, which was very small and sooty, he thought he saw something odd about his appearance. "That's odd…" he murmured. "Wormtail," he said in his inside voice, as he figured that Wormtail was probably right outside his door.
"Yes, my lord?" asked the inexcusable, rat-like person, doing a spit take when he saw his master's changed appearance. Although, he wasn't drinking anything at the time so the spit take came out sounding rather confusing.
"Fetch me a better mirror," said Voldemort, "this one is too small and sooty."
"Yes, my lord," Wormtail scampered out of the room only to return fifteen minutes later, empty handed. "They were out of mirrors," he said glumly. "It seems that someone by the name of Draco Malfoy has purchased all of them."
Voldemort scowled and then yelled, "Lucius!" sounding suspiciously like Ricky Ricardo.
Lucius Malfoy dashed into the room, "Yes, my lord?" Then he blinked several times in surprise at The Dark Lord's appearance.
Voldemort decided that he didn't really want to get into the speediness of everyone's arrival that day so he got straight to the point, "Your son has purchased all of the mirrors and I need one."
"I'll get one at once, my lord," said the creepy blonde man. He left and then quickly came back, holding a mirror. "Well, my lord, it was difficult getting it away from Draco but here it is."
Voldemort took the mirror and looked into it. "Oh dear lord," he muttered. "I seem to have turned into Tom Riddle. This is…well…unforeseen."
"Oh, my lord," gasped Wormtail, "you're gorgeous."
"Oh thank you," said Tom, his voice full of sarcasm. "That means so much to me. I was completely unaware of that fact until now." He stared sullenly into space for a few moments before saying, "Well, now what am I going to do?"
Lucius and Wormtail looked down at the floor, neither of them wanting to say anything.
"Oh just get out," Tom snapped. When everyone was gone, he began to stare into the mirror. 'Well," he thought, 'I am gorgeous. But what should I do about it? I don't want to live like a recluse when I look like this. It's so boring.' Just then a brilliant idea occurred to him. 'I'll go to Hogwarts for awhile. That would be terribly amusing.' He began to pack immediately. When he was finished he sent a letter to Dumbledore, letting the headmaster know of his imminent arrival. "Oh yes," he chuckled, "terribly amusing."
* * *
Three days later, Tom Riddle arrived in the great hall of Hogwarts. He gazed around at the empty hall and smiled. He had a feeling that being a teenager once again was going to be a very entertaining adventure. Just then he heard an extremely irritating voice say something about a certain Dark Lord. He followed the sound of the voice until he reached the hallway. He stopped for a moment, to listen and found that whoever was talking was just around the corner. He quietly approached the mysterious person, who apparently was talking to his friends, so that he could clearly hear the conversation.
"…So you see," the voice was saying, "my father says it's only a matter of time before The Dark Lord realizes how silly it is to be dithering about in that abandoned house and he'll return to full power."
"Wow…" another voice sighed.
"Oh for God's sake, Crabbe," said the original voice, "will you stop eating that Popsicle. The smell is driving me insane."
"You can't smell a Popsicle!" gasped Crabbe.
"Anyway," continued the first voice, "I, for one, am looking forward to the day He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named comes to his senses."
"Comes to his senses?" Tom said, stepping around the corner. "Who are you, young man, to presume that you have any idea what is good for me?"
"And who are you? Calling me young man, as if you're any older than I am!"
Tom paused a moment, looking at the strangely familiar person. "Oh…you must be Draco Malfoy." He chuckled sinisterly, "Your father has been positively dispensable lately."
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh I'm sorry," Tom blinked and then grinned charmingly, holding out a few fingers to substitute for a handshake, "I'm Tom Riddle." Getting no response he said, "You know – Voldemort."
Draco's eyes widened and he ran down the hall, followed closely by a very breathless Crabbe and Goyle.
'Well, that was silly,' thought Tom, 'I definitely don't like that boy.' He walked down the hall until he reached Dumbledore's office. He went in (A/N: I'd say how he got in but right now that just sounds too boring for words) and said "Hello, Albus, been expecting me?"
"Yes, Tom. Cake?" he asked, holding up a huge, two-layered cake.
Tom was momentarily thrown off guard buy the absurd offer, but he quickly overcame his confusion and said, "No."
"So, tell me, what brought you back to Hogwarts? And what made you look fifty-two years younger?"
"Well, the youth thing was probably the fault of something Wormtail slipped into my orange juice and coming to Hogwarts was the result acute boredom."
"Ah. Well, I'm happy to give you a second chance. You can begin classes on Monday."
"What! You're giving me a second chance? Why?"
"I believe in people."
Tom thought that this was the most moronic thing he had ever heard, (discounting everything Wormtail had ever said) but then his mind moved on to the second thing Dumbledore had said. "Wait – you're making me go to class! That's ridiculous, I'm the most powerful wizard in the world. You can't make me go to class."
"I'm the headmaster. I can make you go to class."
Tom opened and closed his mouth a few times and then just glared at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore chuckled and said, "It's good to have you back, Tom."
"Damn you!" he cried, running from the room. When he was out of the room he noticed that he had no where to go.
That was when Dumbledore stepped out into the hall and said, "Come on, I'll show you to your room." Tom sullenly followed Dumbledore through the twisting passageways of the school until they reached what was now Tom's dorm. "I set it up for you when I received your letter," Dumbledore explained.
"How sweet of you." Tom went into the room and glanced around. It would do, he decided. He looked over at Dumbledore and said, "Oh. You're still here?"
"There are a few things that I wanted to tell you before I leave you alone."
Tom raised an inquiring eyebrow.
"Well you see…" the old wizard began. However, he was quickly interrupted by a small toad hopping into the room. "How did that get in here?" he wondered.
It was explained shortly by the arrival of Neville Longbottom, exclaiming, "Trevor!"
"Who is this?" asked Tom, edging away from the round lad.
"Neville Longbottom," Dumbledore replied pulling a tin of candy from his robes. "Bonbon?" he offered.
"No," Tom said distractedly, watching Neville leave with the toad. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"
"Ah yes," he paused. "That's funny. I don't remember. Ginger snap?" he asked, pulling a basket of cookies out of another fold in his robe.
"No. Go away."
"Very well," Dumbledore left Tom alone in the large room, gazing out the window.
After about ten minutes of solid gazing, Tom heard a loud argument coming from outside his door. He recognized one of the voices as the unfailingly irritating Draco Malfoy but the other one was too muffled to make out. 'Well,' he thought, walking towards the door, 'whoever it is, they're a friend of mine if they're on a Malfoy's bad side.' He opened the door, saying, "Draco, what are you doing, standing around in the hall fighting? Shouldn't you be running away?"
He watched the death eater's son dash down the hallway and heard the other person involved in the scuffle say, "Wow, thanks."
Not recognizing the voice because it sounded so cheerful, Tom turned to the teenager and was about to speak when he recognized a familiar lightening bolt scar. "Oh. You," he said coldly.
"Voldemort," Harry said curtly, obviously recognizing him from their little adventure in second year.
Neither of them knew what to say so they occupied themselves by glaring at each other for about nineteen minutes. Finally Tom said, "Well, this has been fun but I'm going to my room now." He turned around and walked into his room.
A/N: more soon probably. If anyone has any suggestions for what should happen in the story next, please let me know. I can't think of anything right now.