Lies: The Tom Riddle Story

Bound at every limb by my shackles of fear
Sealed with lies through so many tears
Lost from within, pursuing the end
I fight for the chance to be lied to again

Eleven-year-old Tom Marvolo Riddle sat alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts express as it ambled along.

He had been on the train for nearly an hour now, and he still didn't believe it was all true. He still thought it surreal. The day the letter had arrived for him, (him!) he hadn't believed it. And even though he new it was all substantial, he still found it hard to believe. It was just that unreal.

He had been thrilled, of course, to escape from the orphanage where he grew up. There he had been teased and taunted constantly. He was different from the others; he always knew that, he had just never before understood why.

Why the other kids had teased him so. Told him such horrible things...

You will never be strong enough
You will never be good enough
You were never conceived in love
You will not rise above

Words that stung. That cut to the bone and clung there.

When he was younger, he'd been filled with hopes and dreams. He would be adopted by a nice family, maybe have a sibling, or a pet. He'd make friends, and go to college.

But the other kids laughed at him; he was too old; he'd never be adopted now. It was then that the anger started. Anger at the others for laughing at him. Anger that they dashed his dreams in an instant.

Of course, it was nothing more than a minor anger; he was just a small boy. But sometimes he would get so angered and embarrassed that things around him would burst into flames or explode.

It was then that other kids took to calling a freak and other names equally as rude and hurtful. They said he must be mental, doing things without control when his temper flared; with his mind.

But now he was going to Hogwarts. Things would be different there. There he could learn to harness his power. To grow; start over. There he could prove himself. He would be something. He would show the other kids; he was better than them. He'd prove it if it the last thing he did.

They'll never see
I'll never be
I'll struggle on and on to feed this hunger
Burning deep inside of me

Tom ran across the grounds, hot tears blurring his vision and slipping down his flushed cheeks. He should have known! How could he have been so foolish? He should have known things wouldn't change. He would never fit in. No matter where he went.

At the orphanage he was shunned for being different, a freak. Here he was shunned for being Muggle born. And in Slytherin. He just couldn't win. His housemates shunned him for being Muggle born and the rest of the school shunned him for being Slytherin.

He wiped furiously at the tears on his cheeks, enraged with himself for crying. He was stronger than that. At least, that's what he told himself. But he wasn't really. A human being can only take so much before he eventually breaks. And breaking he was.

He'd accepted it for too long. He was supposed to fit in here! Be welcomed! Be accepted! But no, he was still an outcast; still teased for being different.

A shiver ran down Tom's spine as these thoughts crossed his mind. To him none of it seemed fair.

Was it too much to ask to be accepted by another? Just one other?

He stopped, placing his hands on his knees and hunching over, trying to catch his breath and control his ragged breathing.

"Tom, don't cry," a voice spoke out. "Come, tell me what's troubling you."

Started, Tom jumped and spun around, trying to find the source of the voice. He found it, sitting at the base of a tree. It was a middle-aged man, leaning against the tree. He had an eerie glow around him, which Tom found somewhat alluring. The man opened his arms and beckoned Tom to join him. And so he did.

But through my tears breaks a blinding light
Birthing a dawn to this endless night
Arms outstretched, awaiting me
An open embrace upon a bleeding tree

Tom found himself spilling all of his troubles to the stranger. He told him about being teased at the orphanage; about how happy he was when he got his Hogwarts letter. And the utter dissapointment he felt when nothing changed. He told him how none of the other houses would socialize with him because he was a Slythrin. And he told him the worst part of all; that his own housemates teased him for being Muggle born.

When he had finally finished, the stranger smiled down at him with great amusment.

"Tom, do you know who I am?" he asked.

Tom shook his head no.

"Do you know who you are?"

Tom blinked; of course he knew who he was! "I'm Tom Marvolo Riddle," he said slowly. The stranger laughed.

"Right and Wrong. Tom, you're no Muggle born."

"Of course I am. I grew up in a Muggle orphanage!" Tom proclaimed, bemused by the stranger.

The stranger sighed. "Okay, let me start by interducing myself. I'm Salazar Slytherin."

Tom gasped, but the stranger continued, "And you, are my last remaining heir. You have the power to be greater than all of those around you. You're father may have been a mere Muggle born, Tom. But you're mother was a great Witch. It's a shame you got stuck with his name."

Tom stared at Salazar, mouth hanging agape. "Are you se-serious?"

"Of course I am!" Salazar barked.

"Well then how are you... here? You're... well, dead," Tom said simply.

"That's of no importance. You had to know your heiritage! You're a true Slytherin, and with my help you can be great! Now, rest in me and I'll comfort you. I have lived and I've died for you. Abide in me and I vow to you, I will never forsake you."

Tom's heart leaped for joy. He would show them all!

"Of course, Sir. I'll do anything."

And as the years went on Tom did grow strong. He was no longer feared by the rest of the school, but feared. They had learned it was not wise to cross Tom Riddle.

None of them knew who he really was, and he never cared to tell them. He would meet once a week with Salazar who would teach him dark magic and fill his head with all he could do. All the power he had and would possess.

They'll never see
I'll never be
I'll struggle on and on to feed this hunger
Burning deep inside of me

They'll never see
I'll never be
I'll struggle on and on to feed this hunger
Burning deep inside of me

Some nights he'd start to regret his disicion. He'd think that he didn't want to be so powerful. He just wanted to fit in. But then a voice would fill his head, chanting softly: Rest in me and I'll comfort you
I have lived and I died for you
Abide in me and I vow to you
I will never forsake you

And he knew there was no turning back. Besides, Salazar was right. No one loved him. He had to teach them.

He had also learned his Birth Father was still alive. A Muggle who abandoned him when he learned his mother was a Witch. His hatred for his father grew everyday. He, more than the others, had to pay.