Chapter 01
AN: Chapter length may increase later on.
Pity.
A normal human emotion.
Tom couldn't feel it.
He lived in an orphanage for as long as he could remember. He was somewhat of a bully there, a ringleader among his group. He had learned how to speak persuasively from the variously loud arguments he engaged with his peers. To say he was scrawny and got beaten a lot was not true in any way. He was never weak, and he would never be weak.
Pity is not a normal emotion.
Pity is for the weak.
I am the strong.
The basilisk scenario was a test for Tom Riddle, could he push aside his emotions to atain his goals? His goal. It filled him with a burning desire in his chest, everytime he thought about it he felt like he could explode with need.
Immortality.
If there was one thing he feared, it was death. In his first year the Defense against the Dark Arts professor showed them how to battle boggarts. His boggart turned out to be himself. Dead.
So what could a basilisk have to do anything with immortality?
As said before, it was a test. A test to get rid of the little pity he had.
The heir of Slytherin succeeded.
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After Myrtle died, Tom got a slap to his face. Metamorphically of course. He realized he would lose his home, the wizarding world, if Hogwarts closed. His wand would be confiscated, and he would have to go back to living like a muggle.
A muggle.
The thought made him feel dirty.
He was meant to be a great wizard. He could feel it in his heart, his very being. Power, immortality... He wanted power that could rival even that of Dumbledore's. Of course didn't every slytherin want that?
But he was the heir.
The heir.
The heir.
He felt pride at his great heritage, the blood of a thousand powerful wizards ran in his veins, and filling him with a buzzing power. He even felt pride at his muggle side of the family.
Of course he hated them, but he had something no other pureblooded wizard had. Balance.
He knew he would have been an inbred idiot like the rest of them if he had been a pureblood, so he did not mind the muggle factor in his blood. It had saved him.
But what those damn muggles did was unexcusable. When he was 6 years old he had ran away from the orphanage to go find his father, Tom Riddle senior.
It would be worth mentioning that in all of his endevours he never failed. He always came out victorious.
So Tom took the bus, and he went over to his father's house in Little Hamlington.
He remembered it well, it was a memory that would never go away. He watched in fascination at his father, ranting about his bitch mother and magic. Of course he couldn't understand it at the time. But now he did.
He decided to pay a visit to his dear father. In the summer of course. For now he had enough on his plate trying to avoid Dumbledore in his various learning trips to the restricted section.