The True Story of Tom Riddle Jr.

Squibby Squib Squib

This is the story of Tom Riddle Jr.

It is also the story of his generation, Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, and, most importantly, Bellatrix Black. (At least, the one he lived in.)

It is the story of much, but at its core, it is a story of magic.

There once was a boy named Tom Riddle, who was born into a family of renowned witches and wizards. They were well known for their work in the Dark AND Light Arts, their work at the Ministry of Magic, and for being absurdly rich. They also had a fabulous house with dishes washing themselves and a well manicured, gnome-free lawn. The Riddle family parents, Tom and Merope, had two beautiful sons and three gorgeous daughters. But many do not realize that there was another...

Tom Riddle.

The second youngest of the family, named after his father, the one erased from everyone's memories with a simple Obliviate. Why, you ask? Well. It's quite simple, really. He was a squib.

There really was no kind way to put it. Generations and generations, centuries and centuries of pure-blood, magical children, and then this? This is how it came to be.

-{~§~}-

"TOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

Tom Riddle shook himself awake. He stared at the floating clock, ringing to the tune of The Psychic Potato's latest album. 10 a.m. March twenty-fourth. His eleventh birthday.

"TOOOOOOO-"

"I'M COMING!"

The pajama-clad boy sprinted down the stairs to an eagerly awaiting family, and stacks of wizard cakes and breakfast pumpkin juice. Faces bright, yet a touch of anxiousness behind their brilliant white smiles. And Tom knew exactly why.

Last night, he had heard his parents discussing another lengthy and tedious topic that Tom had no interest in. But then, he heard his name. That is when he stopped to listen.

"What if he doesn't show signs of magic tomorrow? What if he's a...a..."

"Squib?" Tom's father sighed. "Merope, dear, it won't happen. It can't. He has my name, for a wizard's sake. That of all things should be enough. But if worse comes to worse, well, we didn't work on all those memory spells for nothing, then, did we?"

Merope Gaunt Riddle gasped in horror. "Tom, you aren't...you're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you? He's our son for Merlin's sake!"

"It shouldn't matter. He's a wizard, I know it. The Riddle blood within him would refuse nothing less."

But Tom's mother wasn't listening. "He's turning eleven! All of our children expressed their talents when they were six! If...if...He's our son! I don't want to have to abandon him like that..."

"And we won't have to."

"But, what if, Tom? What if? We need to plan, this is not something we can just ignore! We need contingencies, plans, anything! We need a place to hide him, a place to keep him safe...oh, poor Tom! Imagine what he would feel if he was⸺"

Tom's father slammed his fist against the table, causing the family shih tzu, Iris, to bark and sprint out of the kitchen, heading towards Tom. Tom hurriedly tried to shush the canine, but it was too late.

"Tom?" Tom's mother cried, but it was too late. Tom had heard it all. "TOM!"

Tom hadn't seen his parents since last night. He felt betrayed and hurt, not only because of his parents' harsh words, but also because of the truth. Yes, his siblings had all shown their magic when they were much, much younger. Sure, they were all the best in their classes at Hogwarts, except for the tiniest Riddle child, Caspian, who was only five years old. He knew that if he didn't show magic today, it would all be over. Hogwarts letters would all be sent today; the last day. After today, he would no longer be a Riddle.