Disclaimer: I own very little of this fic besides the basic plotline. Everything that could possibly be recognized belongs to JKR.
The Metamorphosis
"Dumbledore, I want this job." He pestered the Hogwarts headmaster one last time. "Why will you not let me teach Defence Against the Dark Arts?"
"Tom, you are young, you are reckless, and I am afraid that you might neglect the Defence Against part."
"You fool, you should know better than to refuse Lord Voldemort." With that, he stalked out of the headmaster's office, muttering a curse under his breath. "I'll teach that foolish professor, he should know better than to refuse the Dark Lord. From this day forth, he will never be able to keep a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for more than one year."
After leaving the school, Tom's mind wandered. His one idea of work had died the minute that silly fool had turned him down. Walking down the path to the front gates, he pondered what to do.
Perhaps first, I should find a place in Hogsmeade. There I'll be able to think in privacy.
He headed down the path beaten well by many thousands of students' feet toward Hogsmeade. Memories flooded his mind of many other trips down this same path, a few years earlier.
"Lucius! How dare you suggest such a thing?" He punched his best friend on the arm.
"Don't be silly Tom, I've seen you looking at that Gryffindor girl."
"Lucius, I swear…"
"Tom, that Gemma girl!"
"How dare you guys suggest that I, the very last descendent of Salazar Slytherin himself, have fallen in love with a Gryffindor girl. I've half a mind to curse you all: Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, the lot of you."
Those had been the days all right. He had been young and carefree, not worrying about such simple things as money. True, he had needed to go home to that orphanage, that bane of his existence, each summer, but Dumbledore and the school had provided him with everything he needed to get through school. He looked up and narrowly missed banging his head on the Hog's Head sign above him.
Good, he thought, I'll get a room here and consider my options after that.
Later that evening he sat on the mealy bed, a meagre meal lurching inside his stomach.
I could always try to find work in one of the stores here in Hogsmeade, then I'd be able to keep near the students of Hogwarts, keep my influence here…but which shop could I possibly find work in here…anyway, this place reminds me unfavourably of Little Hangleton, and I swore that I'd never set foot in that place again. Maybe I could find work in Diagon Alley…no too cheery, but it's sinister neighbour, Knockturn Alley, now that would be a place to work. It's settled then, I'll Apparate to Knockturn in the morning.
Having made his conclusions, he lay back on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, he left, forgoing breakfast. When he landed in Knockturn Alley, he found himself right outside of that rather seedy shop, Borgin and Burkes. Now here would be a place to work, he thought to himself. Maybe I could even like it here.
He strode into the shop, wincing as the gay little bell above the door rang out its song of warning. A voice emanated from the musty depths of the shop. "Can I help you, sir?"
"I'm looking for Messrs. Borgin and Burkes. I wish to apply for a job."
"I am Mr. Borgin. Come back here and let me see you properly."
After several uneventful months at Borgin and Burkes, Tom again felt restless. He was certainly well off, having made some of the shop's most successful purchases ever, and having received a good deal of the money made off of them. One day, he set out on his latest mission for the shop, and decided to take a small detour on the way.
"Lucius, open this door! It's just me, Tom, or if you prefer, Voldemort."
"Tom, what an - unexpected visit," Lucius replied, a slight hint of scorn in his voice. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"It's time."
"Oh, then, you must come in so we can discuss this more."
Tom stepped over the threshold, into the sinister Malfoy Mansion.
"So, Riddle," Malfoy inquired, "what can I do for you?"
"It is time that I assume my true role, the role of Lord Voldemort. Today begins the dawn of a new era, my reign of terror. I ask that you begin to gather followers. Start with the loyal Slytherins: Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and go from there. From now on, Tom Riddle is a thing of the past."
"Yes, To-- my Lord."
Voldemort noticed with much satisfaction that it had begun. His greatest friend -- but could he really say that? Lucius had always been more of a follower, just like all of them -- had switched from the schoolboy playfulness of 'Tom' to the outright reverence of 'My Lord'. Yes, that was right, he was Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord now.
After Lucius had shown him out, he continued on his way, happy with the knowledge that this would be his last task for the slimy Messrs. Borgin and Burkes.
"Thank you very much, madam." He walked out of his customer's house, his newest, and final, purchase for the shop carefully tucked inside his robes.
He felt his way into nothing, thinking hard of Borgin and Burkes. With a loud crack, he was there.
"So, Tom," Mr. Borgin asked, "have you collected the merchandise?"
"That I have, sir," he replied, "and I'd like to hand it in...along with my resignation."
"Your resignation? But that means that you're leaving us."
"That I am, sir, I've decided to move on. Perhaps you'll be hearing about me sometime soon."
"Ah, well, this is a sad day indeed. The shop will miss you greatly."
The next few days found him inside his flat, feverishly scribbling, muttering, and drawing.
"It has to show power, it must instill fear; maybe it should hearken back to the most noble Salazar Slytherin himself..." He was trying to create a symbol, his symbol, and that of his followers. "I think I've got it, a skull for fear and power, a snake for the noble Slytherin...maybe the snake comes out of the skull's mouth, showing immortality like the ancient Egyptian snake that constantly ate itself." With a flourish, he finished his drawing. "I shall call it the Dark Mark, it will float over the houses of those who die at our hands, and it will be branded on every follower's arm. It will be the ultimate symbol of fear."
The next night, he summoned them, Lucius and the men he had gathered.
"Listen, and listen well, all of you. You are about to enter into servitude and loyalty to me, your Dark Lord. There is no turning back, you will be devoted to the Dark Arts for life. With the mark I brand upon your arm, you become a member of the elite, the powerful, the feared."
The followers formed a solemn line, headed by none other than Lucius Malfoy himself. Each in his turn, they filed up, kissed their Lord's feet, and received the Dark Mark along their left forearms.
"With this I will call you. Feel its burning and return to your master."
Suddenly, before their eyes, he disappeared. Confusion broke out, the newly formed Death Eaters milled about, unsure of what needed to be done.
"Where could he have gone?" many asked, whether inside their heads or out of them.
Moments later, a tall figure rose out of the ground, eyes red and snake-like. Tom Riddle was gone; in his place stood Lord Voldemort.
I hope you liked it. It's my first attempt at Harry Potter fanfiction, and I don't know how well it'll go over. Feel free to review, if you want to, but it's all up to you. I'd appreciate the feedback.