Disclaimer: Much as it pains me to say it, I don't own Harry Potter. Let us all bow down to J.K Rowling, who actually does. Lucky duck.
A/N: Although this is not a song-fic, it was inspired by the song "Someday" by Nickleback. This chapter takes place when Tom Riddle was still at Hogwarts, around the time of the scene in COS when Harry views the memory in the diary. Although the movie had Riddle talking to Dumbledore on the stairwell, in the book the conversation was with Dippet.
Past Reflections, Future Promises
Tom Riddle swept down the hallways of Hogwarts after his meeting with Headmaster Dippet, thoughts crashing through his mind. His hopes of staying at Hogwarts over the summer had been crushed, all because everyone was scared from the recent attacks. Dippet's words echoed back at him. 'Special circumstances might have been made for you, but under current circumstances…'. He scoffed. What current circumstances? A few Muggleborns had been attacked, so what? He had been doing the school a favor, really. Tom firmly believed that magic should be left to the capable, the privileged. Hogwarts would be better off without those half-blood nitwits crowding the hallways, stumbling through lessons, slowing everything down
The worst part was that Tom himself was a half-blood.
Perhaps that was why he hated them so. He was a perfect example of how a Muggleborn should act; you couldn't tell him apart from pureblood wizards in lessons. But the others, they were what set a bad name for Muggleborns. The ridiculous oafs couldn't perform a levitating charm properly if their life depended on it.
What made matters worse, was that not only was he a half-blood, but also a half-blood in Slytherin. Tom felt his blood begin to boil at the thought of his housemates. Each day he was tormented and ridiculed for what he was, but none of them could even dream of having the power he had. He was the heir of Slytherin, the one controlling the basilisk and attacking Mudbloods right under their bloody noses. And they had no idea it was him doing it.
Except for maybe that Muggle-loving professor, Dumbledore. Dumbledore, who always watched him in that annoyingly close way that said that he knew that Tom was doing something. But he still didn't know what. None of them did. And he was going to keep doing it, keep attacking and hopefully killing all those he considered inferior.
Tom knew the one question people would ask once they found out it was him. Why? Why was he targeting Muggles and Mudbloods? What set them apart?
The answer was quite simple. He hated them, hated them with a passion. He had been pushed around for too long, by them and because of them. It was because of his filthy Muggle father that he was constantly ridiculed at school. The Muggles at the orphanage were horrible, demanding, and obnoxious beasts that made him wonder why the wizarding world hadn't attempted genocide of them all before.
And it wasn't just Muggles and Mudbloods he hated. No, he hated anyone, like Dumbledore, who sympathized with them. Muggle-lovers were just pathetic, annoyingly stupid people who couldn't see how inferior Muggles were, but instead found them interesting. Yet there are those even more despised than the mudbloods; half-breeds. They were even worse because they weren't even fully human. Like that fool Hagrid. The half-giant was oaf who didn't know which end of a wand to cast with. There was only two things Hagrid was good for: chasing after wild animals and for what Tom planned to make him, a target of blame for the attacks that had been going on.
It pained Tom to give someone else the credit of attacking the Mudbloods but he was killing two birds with one stone. He was finally getting rid of the idiot and giving someone a scapegoat to blame.
Once Hagrid was kicked out of Hogwarts, Tom knew he'd have to stop the attacks, but it was only another year until he graduated, and after that… the possibilities were endless. He could get rid of his Muggle fathers last name and make a new one. He already had it picked out: Voldemort. It was a name he knew that would someday strike fear into the hearts of wizards and witches everywhere. Then, with that new identity, he could gather followers who believed the same things he did: that Muggles and Mudbloods were worthless wastes of space.
Tom grinned, a fierce, evil grin, as he approached the dungeon where he knew Hagrid would soon be. Time to begin the first part of his plan. Muggles had pushed him around his whole life. Now it was his turn to push them around. He would show them all, all those who had laughed and ridiculed him, that he was superior to all of them, that he was better than they were. He wanted to punish the world that had abandoned and ignored him. They had turned their backs on him. Now he would show them just how sweet revenge could be.