Chapter Text
Chapter 1 You spy the kidnap kid
Tom never did cry as a child. It was probably the first peculiar thing anyone noticed about him. He had been unnervingly composed from the start. It’s almost like he instinctively knew that his life was a tragedy in the making—a series of events and choices beyond his control.
He was left at Wool’s orphanage shortly before his mother departed this world. Some will say that she died of a broken heart, but Tom grew up believing his mother to be weak and that love had made her so.
Merope Gaunt’s life was a tragedy, one that was encoded in her very DNA and passed on to her son. A boy, who only ever wanted to be loved, but was instead left abandoned and unwanted.
Tom only grew more peculiar as he got older. He was bullied for being different and he had to learn to defend himself quite early on. By the time he was 5, most of the other children knew to leave him alone unless they wanted to experience an unexplainable accident. He grew up in isolation, believing that the only way to protect himself was to shut out the world and to be able to control it.
September 1943
Tom had returned to Hogwarts for his sixth year, but he wasn't interested in the usual fanfare of the sorting ceremony. He was just there to go through the motions and continue his plans. Carrow had leaned in and tried to make conversation with him, when he heard it. A name he hadn’t heard in years.
“Ava Mórán.”
He turned instinctively towards her. Ava, he knew that name. He looked towards the dais to see a tiny little red headed girl walking towards the sorting hat. He saw her look out into the crowd, and for a moment, their eyes met across the Great Hall, and a strange tension pulsed through him. So she recognizes me too, he thought while looking into her stormy blue eyes. It had been so long—so long since he last saw her, but of course she remembered him. She had always had the ability to pick Tom out of a crowd, like she could feel his very presence. It was one of the things that endeared her to him.
“RAVENCLAW!” The hat announced, and though Tom expected it, a small pang of disappointment tugged at his chest. She was clever and sharp — too sharp for Slytherin. That was no surprise. What surprised him, however, was the weight of watching her walk away with the Ravenclaw prefects. He kept his eyes on her, ignoring whatever Carrow was trying to say, his eyes still locked on Ava’s retreating figure. She had changed, obviously having grown up from the five year old he knew, but he was curious as to how she would fit into this world.
September 1931
Tom's life at the orphanage had always been solitary, filled with a deep and growing curiosity about the world beyond the walls of Wool’s. He was constantly reading — seeking something—anything—to offer an escape from the painful reality of his life.
He was in the courtyard one afternoon when he first laid eyes on her.
A basket sat in the middle of the grass, an odd and out-of-place thing. Inside, wrapped in a small, rough blanket, was a tiny infant. A note rested on her chest, simply stating her name, “Ava.”
Tom scoffed at the name. How dull.
Just as he turned away, about to leave the strange sight behind, the baby reached out. Her tiny hand curled around his finger, and in that moment, something happened—a jolt of electricity, of something that felt like magic and made his body feel alive in a way he’d never experienced before. His eyes widened as he looked down at the baby. She stared up at him, unblinking, holding onto his finger like a promise. He looked at the baby again. She was staring right at him. Tom smiled. One of the first genuine smiles he had ever had.
Tom had never seen a baby quite like her. She was small, fragile, with stormy eyes that seemed to hold something beyond her years. When Tom laid eyes on her, he didn't feel pity, nor did he feel disgust, as he often did when looking at the others. No, he felt...protective. He had no idea why. He simply knew he would keep her safe.
That was the moment he knew. He didn’t understand why, but that feeling, that connection—something between them, something unspoken—had altered the course of his life forever.
September 1943
Tom awoke suddenly, his heart racing, as memories of that first encounter with Ava flooded back to him. The dream had come unbidden, a reminder of something long buried.
He realized that he had slept in much later than he intended which means he was probably going to miss breakfast. Tom got ready in a hurry and headed out the door to get to his first newt level class. When he saw Ava wandering the hall he almost froze for a second. He had spent so many years trying to ignore her memory as he worked towards something greater than that little orphan boy ever imagined, but now, in the halls of Hogwarts, there she was again. As he walked through the corridor, he saw her, casually strolling down the corridor. She didn’t notice him, but he noticed her. He couldn’t help it.
I’m just watching over her, he told himself. Making sure no one messes with her.
It wasn’t that he cared for her—not anymore. No, he was Lord Voldemort now, heir to Salazar Slytherin, master of the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. He could not afford to care about anyone—especially her. Yet, in the back of his mind, something still tugged at him.
She was different and she always had been. Even after he discovered magic he had never felt that same sensation that she had instilled in him the moment she reached out and grabbed him.
He took a step closer, intending to walk past her without so much as a glance. But as he approached, something compelled him to reach out and touch her shoulder, he had to know if that same electricity still jilted through him at their touch. It did.
She turned, startled by his touch, but relaxed when she saw him.
“Do you need assistance finding your class?” he asked, his voice cool and detached.
“Oh no, I’m fine. Thanks.” She smiled politely, her gaze never meeting his directly.
“Are you sure? I am a prefect and so it’s no trouble at all. In fact it’s my responsibility to be helping the first years in any way that I can.”
“I am really fine. I memorized Hogwarts layout including the periodic movements of the stairs.” She stated matter of factly.
Tom’s lips quirked into a smile. “Of course, well welcome to Hogwarts.” She’s still exactly the same, he thought as he nodded his head and walked away.