Character: Tom Riddle
Disclaimer: JKR owns. I only play. You do not sue.
Length: 605 words
Summary: After all, why on earth would someone not want to become the greatest sorcerer in the world?
Note: Originally written for a contest at hogsmeade_elite; the prompt was to write a fic with no conflict in it whatsoever.
Concrit: Always welcome and appreciated.
Tom pulled back the covers on his four-poster bed, gratefully looking forward to a good night's sleep. As usual, he lay down on his stomach and slid his hands under the pillow.
Suddenly, he felt a square of parchment beneath his fingers and pulled it out, curious. It was addressed to him, so he unfolded it. He plucked his wand from the bedside table, lit it and pointed it at the parchment. It was a letter.
London, October 30, 1980
You are holding in your hands a sort of blueprint to your future. It might sound mad, but you are going to write this selfsame letter when the time comes (you will know it when it does), and you are going to go back in time to leave it under your own pillow. Look at the hands that hold this parchment. What if I told you that in the future, those hands will belong to the greatest sorcerer in the world? Read on, Tom. You shall be glad you did.
I will not waste your time or my own with needless declarations of concern for your well-being; I have no concerns that you shall be able to see the value of this letter as soon as you are finished reading. I shall provide you with instructions -- signposts, if you will, on your road to achieving true greatness. And when I say "greatness", I mean that. You are no side-show attraction, Tom. As you already know, the noble blood of Salazar Slytherin flows through your veins.
During your quest to discover as much as you can about your ancestry, you have heard rumours of a secret Chamber buried deep underneath Hogwarts, have you not? Of course you have. I could tell you where it is right now, but that would cheat you out of the enjoyment you shall receive from finding it yourself. Just know that it is there, and it is no mere rumour. I shan't rob you of the joy of discovering what it contains, either. It will take you many years to find it, and you must be steadfast and unrelenting in your search. Take heart in knowing that you will succeed.
Your discovery, when you make it, shall lead you on a path to greatness unlike that of any other wizards who came before you. The current so-called "great" wizard Grindelwald -- you may have heard of him -- is going to be defeated just a few short years in your future. You, however, shall never be defeated, Tom. I am at the height of my powers, and right now I am a mere hair's breadth away from absolute power, and all that stands in my way is a pathetic, defenceless infant. Tomorrow, he shall die and I shall endure forever. I do not use that word lightly, Tom.
Forever. Remember that.
Tom gazed at the letter, enthralled. There was only one person in the entire world who knew that the letters of his name rearranged to "I AM LORD VOLDEMORT". That person was he, Tom Marvolo Riddle -- only yesterday did he create that other name for himself. And here was a letter from the future, written in a hand not unlike his own -- only more elegant. Signed as a Lord, not as filthy Muggle spawn.
He folded the letter back into a square shape and lay back down, sliding his hands under the pillow once more. He would follow the letter's instructions, of course. After all, why on earth would someone not want to become the greatest sorcerer in the world?