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"Tom"

It wasn't until he was older that Tom Riddle, Jr. realized that his mother had used a powerful love potion on his father.

In retrospect, Tom decided it was a very good thing. Although Dad had seemed a bit befuddled most of the time, Tom could look back on a childhood filled with happy memories of two very affectionate parents.

If it wasn't really true, who gave a damn? Isn't that what magic was supposed to do? Give a person what he or she really wanted? Sometimes, out of thin air?

One thing that wasn't part of any spell, was the pride his Dad felt when he looked at his handsome namesake. Even Mum had beamed, and whispered "It's a good thing he has your looks, Tom." Then, she poured him another cup of his favorite tea, which she had secretly dosed with more love potion. As usual, after drinking the tea, his father would get that slightly glazed expression on his face, lean over, and impulsively kiss own wife.

By eleven, Tom understood many things about the wizarding world. One, was that pureblood inter-marriage was a bad thing. All he had to do was look at Grandfather Gaunt and his creepy Uncle Morfin.

It was enough to make him swear off purebloods, forever. To never consider such a marital alliance. Tom grasped Mum's point completely. Years from now, when the time came to wed, he would never consider anyone more than a muggleborn.

Yes, he was the Heir of Slytherin on his mother's side, but that was meaningless if all his children were nearly Squib and insane.

Another thing Tom understood was how much his Grandmother and Grandfather Riddle despised magic. For that reason, Mum found it necessary to "persuade" them to retire to a pleasant cottage by the sea in Torquay. They seldom visited.

His Dad vaguely understood about magic, but Mum used her considerable charm to convince him of its benefits. There was violence brewing in Europe, and magic could keep his family well-protected against muggles and their deadly wars. Dad understood the implications, and relaxed his prejudices enough to allow his son to attend Hogwarts, even though his heart had been set on continuing the family tradition at Harrow.

TO THOMAS MARVOLO RIDDLE

THE MANOR

LITTLE HANGLETON

Dear Mr. Riddle –

We are pleased to offer you a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...

Tom's first trip to Diagon Alley was a sheer delight. Dad refused to go, and Mum actually seemed quite relieved. (Apparently, love potions can be quite detectable on muggles) Dad did, however, give Mum plenty of pounds to be converted into galleons and sickles. He reiterated that his only child was to have the best of everything, even if wizard clothes seemed odd to him. It was important for his dear boy to fit in at this odd-fangled magic school.

Mum enjoyed having so much money to flash at Madame Malkin's, even though she, herself, continued to wear the expensive cashmere twinset and pleated skirt of a genteel Muggle matron. She felt only pleasure buying her Tommy only brand-new textbooks at Flourish and Blotts.

Mr. Ollivander had a most difficult time finding him a wand. Finally, though, he settled upon hickory wood with a Basilisk core.

Tom spent seven happy years in Slytherin, if one could forget there was a war blazing in the muggle world. On a very minor note, Grandfather Gaunt and Uncle Morfin were killed during an air raid on Little Hangleton, after his Mum "forgot" to renew the magical protections on their rickety shack. (Just in time, too, as it happened, since Little Hangleton had already been named "The Luckiest Village in England," due to the odd coincidence of not single enemy bomb striking any building within a five-mile radius - and always falling harmlessly in some empty field, instead.)

Tom was openly relieved. He detested the Gaunts. They had been an embarrassment. He was thrilled he'd never have to give them another thought. His Dad wrote about his Mum being quiet for a couple of days, but afterwards, it seemed as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Tom was a lucky boy. He had his father's looks, and his mother's powerful magic. There were a few disgruntled attempts at insulting his halfblood heritage, but these were short-lived. He was handsome, charming, wore Slytherin's ring and spoke Parseltongue.

Who could argue with that?

Tom loved every class at Hogwarts, especially transfiguration. Professor Dumbledore always seemed a little hesitant around him, though. As if he were constantly waiting for another shoe to drop, or something.

The one thing Tom didn't do during those seven years, was open the Chamber of Secrets. He knew all about it from his Mum, of course, but they both knew it was the height of foolishness to bring that much attention to oneself. The fact that they both spoke Parseltongue was generally known only to the members of Slytherin House. That had been a strategic decision, to help gain the complete acceptance of otherwise bigoted purebloods.

But what earthly purpose could there be to setting a monster loose on the student population? What was the point? And in any event, Tom and Merope completely disagreed with Salazar Slytherin's views on muggleborns. They both believed that had their illustrious ancestor been alive today, he would have seen the sense in the idea of fresh, new blood making magic stronger, not weaker.

Tom had his own ambitions. He had grown to love Hogwarts, and he intended to some day join the staff. Dumbledore, he knew, would be there forever. Also, McGonagall, that cute little Gryffindor, also had ambitions in that direction. Tom enjoyed competing with her in all their classes. Her skill in transfiguration rivaled his own. If she hadn't been a pureblood, he would have seriously considered pursuing her. Still, if he ever wanted to meet a worthy mate, it would only be amongst the half-bloods and muggleborns who flooded Hogwarts with every new year.

In any event, Defense Against the Dark Arts was another mastery that intrigued him. He decided to focus all his energies in that direction. The perfect strategy would, of course, be to do something brilliant and heroic involving Dark wizards. This annoying upstart, Grindelwald, seemed just the ticket.

Through Mum's and his own contacts in Slytherin, he was able to get enough information concerning the powers and whereabouts of Grindelwald. He was currently holed up in some ancient magical castle in Bavaria, biding his time, like any self-respecting villain would do in the winter time.

As with most megalomaniacs, his endless ambitions (not to mention magical hissy-fits) were starting to pall on his followers. They were also threatening to draw more unwanted attention to the wizarding world, which was even more dangerous. All in all, the mad wizard Grindelwald was just bad for business.

Tom told his parents he would be spending Christmas on a wealthy classmate's estate in Ireland. Instead, armed with a list of ex-Slytherin and Durmstrung contacts, he finagled a prized invitation to a holiday ball at Castle Grindelwald. It wasn't very difficult, really – young, handsome, rich, Slytherin... The fact was, old Grindelwald had a weakness for pretty things, male or female. And Tom always had managed to stand out in a crowd. He certainly stood out in a crowded castle ballroom, catching the eye of the evil overlord, himself.

"You are very lovely," Grindelwald murmured after midnight, when he began to undress young Tom in the privacy of his cavernous bedchamber.

"Mmmm, thank you, Sir," Tom murmured politely. Although he preferred females, Tom had nothing against sex with a man, however, not this man. He was old, decrepit and in a strange way reminded him of his Grandfather Gaunt. The man was truly repulsive.

But Tom deliberately continued his faint moans of false ecstasy, and Grindelwald grew even more aroused. Tom was proud of his manipulative Slytherin wiles. In a few moments it would all be over, anyhow.

"Such a beautiful boy," the old villain breathed, "Beautiful!" He brushed gnarled fingers across smooth, bare skin.

Knowing it was time, Tom whispered the seven most difficult words he would ever say in his life. "May I touch you, as well, Sir?"

"Ah, yes!"

With one gentle hand, he caressed a withered flank – while with another hand, he swiftly removed the tiny vial of Basilisk venom from his family ring, stabbing it swiftly into Grindelwald's flesh.

A few seconds later, as the old wizard gave his final death gurgle, Tom mused what life might be like had he ever decided to be a megalomaniac, himself. He certainly had the ability. Killing this idiot simply proved how easy it could be to outwit the evil competition and pursue his own dark agenda. But, no. He hardly wanted a life of looking over his shoulder for every new assassin. And what for? He had all the things he wanted...or he would, eventually.

He dressed, threw on his invisibility cloak, and made his way through one of the pathetically non-secretive secret passages in the castle. (Snake portraits and sculptures were always so delighted to chat with a parselmouth)

Days later, he stood in the Ministry of Magic to receive his Order of Merlin, First Class. His mother stood proudly at his side (although she and his father had both screamed holy murder at him for risking his life so carelessly. Later on, though, Dad admitted he was proud that his son had such bollocks, but if he ever pulled suck a stunt again, he wasn't too old to be put over his knee.)

Tom noticed, with some satisfaction, that Dumbledore seemed impressed, although, just a bit jealous for stealing his own thunder.

Nevertheless, the "foolish stunt" guaranteed Tom a place in the Auror Academy, and three years later, he was given the position of Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts.

He was consistently, the most popular teacher at the school. His students all adored him, and he continued to promote the integration of muggleborns in the highest levels of wizarding society. As a Slytherin hero, his opinions held weight.

But he remained unattached while his old school friends married and even went on to have grandchildren. Somehow, he never managed to meet a person who cold touch his heart. It would take a full twenty-five years until he would meet the woman he was to fall in love with and marry.

Her name was Lily Evans.