Tom Marvolo Riddle was a handsome and charming boy. Everyone who met him would think that he was a kind boy who would never hurt a fly, let alone a person. But they would have no idea that he was involved in many incidents with other kids.

When he was a baby he never cried but once when he was sucking his pacifier, a boy had stole it and young Riddle had cried so much that day. In the morning, they found that the boy who stole the pacifier had gone deaf.

Once when he was 12, he had an argument with a boy named Billy Stubbs and the next day they found Billy's rabbit hanging from the fan. Tom had sworn he didn't do it but a rabbit couldn't hang itself, could it?

Another time when everyone in the orphanage had gone for a picnic near the seaside, Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop were never like their normal selves ever again. All they had said was that they went into a cave with Tom. Tom had sworn they had gone exploring but something must have happened.

There had been many more incidents like these and Tom was always present where the incidents had happened.

One day, he was just lying on his bed reading a book when the door opened and Mrs. Cole walked in with a tall man who was wearing an odd looking suit.

"Tom? You've got a visitor. This is Mr. Dumberton - sorry, Dunderbore. He's come to tell you - well, I'll let him do it."

Tom had no idea why someone came to visit him. Nobody ever came to visit him. "How do you do,Tom?" said the strange man. The man walked forwards and held out his hand.

Tom hesitated and then took it, and they shook hands. The man sat down on the chair beside Tom.

"I am Professor Dumbledore."

"Professor?" repeated Tom. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"

He was pointing at the door through which Mrs. Cole had just left. He felt angry that she thought he was mentally retarded.

"No, no," said Dumbledore, smiling.

He knew Dumbledore was lying.

"I don't believe you," said Tom. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"
He glared at Dumbledore for a few seconds then stopped.

"Who are you?"

"I have told you. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school - your new school, if you would like to come."

Tom leapt from the bed and backed away from Dumbledore, looking furious.

"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? Professor, yes, of course - well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!"

"I am not from the asylum," said Dumbledore patiently. "I am a teacher and, if you will sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you -"

Tom knew no one would touch him.

"I'd like to see them try," sneered Riddle.

"Hogwarts," Dumbledore went on, as though he had not heard Riddles last words, "is a school for people with special abilities -"

Rage overcame Riddle, he yelled, "I'm not mad!

"I know that you are not mad. Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It is a school of magic."

There was silence. Riddle was frozen, he was expressionless, but his eyes were flickering back and forth between each of Dumbledore's, he was searching in both for a hint, to know whether he was lying.

But how? Riddle knew that there was no such thing as magic. But surely there was something special about him, he knew that he could do things no one else could.

"Magic?" he repeated in a whisper. He was not shocked, just surprised at the word.

"That's right," said Dumbledore.

Tom wanted to confirm this, "It's... it's magic, what I can do?"

"What is it that you can do?"

Riddle saw no point in lying. "All sorts," breathed Riddle. He was excited, so much you could see in his hollow cheeks. He looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

Riddle's legs were trembling. Yet he was quite happy to know that he was different from them. He was not mad, just more special then them. Those who thought of him as scum, were nothing at all. Nothing

"I knew I was different," he whispered to his own quivering fingers. "I knew I was special. Always, I knew there was something."

There was no lie in that, Tom always did feel that something was up with him. Something extraordinary. But the refusal of others to believe only made him question himself of the obvious.

"Well, you were quite right," said Dumbledore, was no longer smiling, but watching Riddle intently. "You are a wizard."

Tom lifted his head. A wild happiness spread across his face, he liked the sound of that word. It made him feel powerful, stronger and controlling. The three things he could never be on his own.

Tom could not help but ask Dumbledore the obvious. "Are you a wizard too?"

"Yes, I am."

"Prove it," Tom commanded. He felt it only fare to see the strength of the old man.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts -"

"Of course I am!" Of course he was, why would he waste himself amongst ordinary people, when he could be somewhere else, amongst people like him.

"Then you will address me as 'Professor' or 'sir'."

Tom felt his face harden for a moment, he was afraid. He found himself speaking in a respectful tone, one he could not recognize himself. "I'm sorry, sir. I meant - please, Professor, could you show me -?"

Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner and gave the wand a casual flick.

The wardrobe burst into flames.