Harry Potter 1. Introduction

(A.N.) Hey guys,

I really hope you like it! It is my first piece, and I am really looking forward to writing it. Who knew psychoanalyzing the ultimate story villain of all time in the form of a first-person narrative could be so much fun?

Love you all!

C. E. Sparks

P.S. If you want, you can skip to Chapter I (**Beach Day**). This was for my own entertainment, and I just now decided to include it.

P.S.S. Please please please review even if you only started to read it, I want to know if people can find my story. I know it's really annoying, but it makes us writers feel like our work is appreciated even if you just glance at it.

P.S.S.S. .net/s/5994935/1/A_Mask_of_Indifference_II_choose_which_story. Choose which one seems more promising and let me know which one is better!

Thanks a million!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. [Noooooooooooooooo (sobs)] **

Cowards die many times before their deaths;  
The valiant never taste of death but once.  
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard.  
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;  
Seeing that death, a necessary end,  
Will come when it will come.

_-William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar_

**Intro: Tom Riddle Psychoanalyzed**

Tom Riddle is cruel, independent, and _fearful_.

He is cruel in every sense of the word. He values nothing and no one above himself. He treats muggles and muggle-borns like a different species, and, much like Adolf Hitler, Riddle tries to convince people that it is their own fault that they are persecuted. He cares nothing about the lives of others. He values his life above all else, and that leads to the making of his Horcruxes, which literally tear his soul into seven broken pieces.

Tom is independent. When he learns his true identity, he travels to London unaccompanied. He has never loved, and he has never had a friend. He has followers who might consider themselves his friends; but to Voldemort, they are merely pawns that are used to achieve his ultimate goal.

Lastly, and most importantly, Tom Riddle is afraid. His fear governs everything about him. He fears the unknown, and things that are outside of his control. He has a pathological fear of death. Above all else, his fear of death is the greatest characteristic that he possesses. The irony in the situation is that, by becoming evil, he actually creates a valid reason for himself to fear death. It is ironic that his precautions to avoid death, like killing a one year old child, ensure his own destruction. But death is just another path, one that we all must take.

Tom Riddle's very name shapes his identity. He despises the name Tom because it is shared by many people, and by his muggle father, Tom Riddle Sr. He felt eleven years worth of bitterness from having to live with other children, while he considered himself to be greater than them all because _he_ was special.

Tom has never known what it is like to be loved, so he has never felt love himself. His anger and bitterness as a child left him seeking revenge on the world in which he was uncaringly cast into. This world gave him no chance for redemption, so he does not even _try_ to redeem himself. It was as if his entire future was planned out, working against him.

As a child Tom he knew that he was special, and you can say that it went to his head. He uses his powers for his own pleasure. He harms the other children around him, and uses his magic for selfish reasons. He believes himself above everyone else, but also fears the things he does not understand.

From the perspective of the rest of the world, nobody can see past the mask he has created for himself. This mask shows no flicker of emotion, and ensures that there is no chance that someone will see that he really _is_ human. However, once you realize that there _was_ a Tom Marvolo Riddle, you can begin to see that there is a mask in place, opposed to the idea that he is incapable of human emotion. Despite every effort to disregard who he is by nature, Voldemort _can_ feel. He denies these emotions, which he considers to be weaknesses, but they are still there beneath the mask.

To better understand the life of Tom Riddle, you must view the world from his perspective. Would you have been any different if you were in his position? We would like to think that we would be different, but how can you truly know? Nobody is _born_ evil, so what happened that turned him into the notorious Lord Voldemort? Was it his choices that created his future, or was it fate? Was it his nature to become evil, or was it the _lack_ of nurture that did it? Was Tom _meant_ to become Lord Voldemort, or was his life a pathetic mistake that ended up costing hundreds of lives?

If one person had truly loved him, would the course of the future be altered into a Voldemort-free worls? We can never truly know if it was fate or choices, but we do know that a life without love is no life at all. The only thing that we can discern from his bitter life of tragedy is the necessity of love.

From the very beginning his life was a cruel tragedy, but only because _he_ made it so. He went from having a frozen heart to having no heart at all. He went from being _scared_ to love to being _incapable_ of love. He turns his back on the world because it turned its back on him.

(A.N.) Hope that didn't bore you all to tears! Please please please review even if you only started to read it, I want to know if people can find my story. I know it's really annoying, but it makes us writers feel like our work is appreciated even if you just glance at it.

You know I love ya!

C. E. SparksNext chapter: **Chapter I: Beach Day- The basis for the cave scene. I needed to include some important things that will alter his future, even if you already know what happens. Keep in mind that this is just the beginning of it; I am planning to write around 20 chapters! There is going to be more events that you have never heard of that play a major role in Tom becoming the infamous Lord Voldemort.**


	2. Beach Day

(A.N.) Hey guys! This chapter is _really_ boring. I know. (ducks to avoid pointy objects thrown at me) It gets better trust me. I just have to get in a few things like the dreams and the cave scene. (Well that's next at least) So just bear with me, and trust me, it gets better I promise.

Love always,

C. E. Sparks

**Disclaimer: If you guys think I own Harry potter, ya'll should probably go visit Madam Pomfrey.**

_Flashback:_

_He has never knows what it was like to be loved, so he will never feel love himself. His anger and bitterness as a child leaves him seeking revenge on the world."Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art…it has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival."  
-C.S. Lewis _

Chapter I: Beach Day

It's Beach Day. Best day of the year. I'm ecstatic. Whoopee.

It's the day the entire orphanage piles into a double-decker that slowly wheezes its way toward the eastern shoreline. We would probably be sitting in the microscopic village near the coast for the better part of the day.

I was in the back of the bus, sitting with my head between my knees, wrapped in my own miserable thoughts. The bus was full of children, and my head was pounding. I tried to sleep in order to escape the noise that was slowly driving me mad, as it had been for the last ten years. I did doze off, but it brought me no peace of mind. I had the same dream I had been having on and off for about a year now.

The dream was the same as always. The same impenetrable fog was present and was the same as ever as it suffocated and paralyzed me. The vision had not changed in the least. But it was also different. This time I had heard a voice in my head. I had never heard this voice in my life, but I could place the owner almost immediately. I had been ashamed; ashamed that they had seen my helplessness as I lay there in the emptiness. I could still hear the echo of the laughter that should have been muffled and inaudible in the fog.

This is how I came back to consciousness. I sat up quickly, still trembling, eager to shake of the dream. I had no idea what it meant. I made sure not to doze off again for the rest of the trip. I peered out of the window for the rest of the bumpy ride; but the windows were so fogged up I could only see my own pale reflection in the glass. My sleek, dark brown hair was disarrayed, and my narrow face was paler than usual.

We finally reached the seaside village around midmorning, just as the sun was obscured by a big, gray cloud. _Wonderful_, I thought sardonically. The children unloaded eagerly, and I followed behind resentfully and in a foul mood. Mrs. Cole, the matron, led us to the usual picnic tables and pulled the usual soggy ham sandwiches out of the cooler. Every one sat down at the stone tables. I, however, remained standing.

"Mrs. Cole, may I go to the bathroom?" I asked. Easy enough excuse.

The middle-aged woman made Dennis Bishop go with me so I would not get lost on my way to pee. Great. Now I would have even more trouble sneaking off that usual. I sighed but continued walking without stopping to wait for Dennis. He was a lanky kid, but he was still taller than me. He was about a year older than I was, and he had to keep sweeping his poorly-groomed blonde hair out of his light blue eyes. He was probably as unpleased as I was with the circumstances. He was scared of me. All of the children were. Not that Mrs. Cole or any of the helpers were aware of the many things I had done in the past.

I entered the nearest shop, which was a pet store. Ew. It smelled revolting. I walked toward the long, green counter on the left of the shop, with the pretense of asking where the bathrooms were. The old shopkeeper, who was in the process of pulling hay out of his short, graying beard, told me, and then continued on into the back room, shutting the heavy door behind him. I hoped he wouldn't hear me if I got caught by Dennis. That's when I tried to ditch Dennis. I snuck behind a large crate of something with a nasty odor, leading me to suspect that it held some kind of dead rodent.

Dennis caught me though, as I was trying to leave through the back door. He grabbed my arm which I tried to shake off. His clear blue eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he took in my expression.

"Leave. Now," I said simply and softly, but he heard the threat in my tone. Smart of him. He looked scared silly. No one had actually _seen_ me do something against the rules, but the children all suspected me. And for good reason too, I mused to myself.

"N-no… I-I won't let you get away th-this time!" he stuttered. I smiled calmly and dangerously. This frightened him more than anything yet. "I know it was you! You put Billy's rabbit in the rafters, I just know it!" He seemed to gain confidence as the words he had been dying to say exploded out of him. "You and Billy were fighting, and the next day I saw you coming out of the room with the rabbit." He grinned in triumph. I listened with the air of listening to a baby rage and storm, waiting for it to realize how foolish they look. Actually, that is exactly what was happening. I really hadn't meant to put his stupid rabbit up there, but I was sure it was me who did it nonetheless.

My smile widened, and Dennis' triumphant expression died almost instantly. The kid looked like he was going to throw up or pass out or something. He realized that it made no difference if I was the one who did it, as I had realized a while ago. He did keep a firm grasp on my arm, I must admit. I was starting to get pretty annoyed. Being almost a year older, Dennis overpowered me physically. My pale gray eyes flickered in anger, the only part of me that betrayed that I had any emotion at all.

"Let go of my arm Bishop," I whispered.

"No!" he nearly shouted. He continued on ranting despite his moment of fear. "Everyone hates you, you know they do. You don't have a single friend! You bring it on yourself." I inwardly grimaced at the thought. Like I needed a friend to hold me back. "Just because you have no friends doesn't mean you can treat us all so badly. You're just a stupid bully, and nobody likes you. No wonder your father left you." He stopped short, apparently not wanting to divulge that he possessed that information. He tried to recover, and continued talking though he sounded like he was scrambling to find a good come-back. "That's right. I know. I heard you talking in you sleep," was his pathetic response. "I'm not surprised he left a person like you!"

That was all it took. Dennis fell to the ground like he had been tasered. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he shook from head to toe. I had no idea how it had happened, but it certainly was not the first time it had.

It happened that at that moment, the bell on the door rang, warning me that we were no longer alone in the main part of the shop.

Amy Benson stepped into the pet store, having been told to go look for us.

"Get up Bishop," I said, more urgently this time. He just continued to writhe around on the floor, moaning and crying. Amy followed Dennis' weak moans until she saw him lying on the floor. Her brown eyes widened, and her scraggily brown hair whipped in front of her as she suddenly stopped and froze. She looked up from Dennis' now still body sprawled on the dirty floor, then up to my impassive expression. After a few more seconds of shock, she suddenly seemed to unfreeze, and made to run out of the shop. I willed her to stop before she could tell the others what she had seen before I came up with a reasonable excuse.

Surprisingly, she really _did_ stop. More surprising yet, she couldn't make herself pick up her feet to move. I realized that it was _me_ who had made her stop; I had unknowingly willed it into reality. I honestly didn't have a plan, so I decided to move them out of the store before the old shopkeeper came back.

Like before, I was surprised when they both stood up together and followed me out the back door. Both wore terrified expressions. We walked or about 15 minutes until I saw the endless sea stretching out before me as I stepped around the corner of a building. There was nothing nearby; not a single person or a single animal. Not even a tree for that matter; just bare rock stretching out to touch the endless expanse of water.

I continued walking to the edge of the cliff with the two children stumbling blindly along in my wake. When I reached the water, I found that I was standing on a cliff where the gray water met the stone cliff side. I made them adjust position so that they were standing slightly ahead of me. Then I let them move freely. I don't know how, so just don't ask. I am used to this kind of thing happening.

Their initial reaction was shock, but it changes almost instantaneously to fear. They both looked around in shock; first at each other, then back at me, then down at the raging water below. There first instinct was to get as far away from the ledge as possible. They stood rooted in place. I found the will inside me, and pushed them off of the edge of the cliff with my mind.

(A.N.) Yeah, oh well. Didn't come out too well. _Extremely_ short too.

Sorry, it will get better, I promise! Please please please review even if you only started to read it, I want to know if people can find my story. I know it's really annoying, but it makes us writers feel like our work is appreciated even if you just glance at it.

Thanks tons!

Love,

C. E. Sparks

Next chapter: **Chapter II: The Cave- Is Tom already doomed to become Lord Voldemort, or might something happen to alter his future?**


	3. The Cave

(A.N.) Hello my lovelies,

I really hate this chapter. Yeah. I know. I wrote it. But still, I just don't like it. I'm not quite done, but I just decided to update what I do have. Sorry it's sooo bad, but I got severe writers block toward the end there.

See ya soon!

**Disclaimer: I own a stuffed frog, a rabbit named dave, a pair of fluffy socks, and a Christmas card that says Merry Holiday, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.**

_Flashback:_

_I found the will inside me, and pushed them off of the edge of the cliff with my mind. _

_Death is not the biggest fear we have; our biggest fear is taking the risk to be__ alive__– the risk to be alive and express what we really are._

_-Elaine Maxwell_

**Chapter II: The Cave**

I was angry. I didn't know why but I was. I was angry at everything and everyone. I watched as they plummeted into the churning gray waters below. They did not fall straight down, but I pushed them further out to sea so that they would not hit the rocks jagging out from the cliff. Their speed slowed as the water approached; they would have died from the impact if I hadn't slowed them.

Then I casually stepped off of the edge, and floated more gracefully down to the nearly invisible opening in the rock face. They however, were drowning. I watched them struggle to keep their heads above water. No one at the orphanage could swim, not even myself, so I pulled them towards me with my mind. They gasped and spluttered as they were flattened against the black rock, both vomiting sea water. I headed deeper into the black cave.

I felt my temper rise like the sea before a storm. In that moment those two children stood for everything I hated. In that moment they resembled everything that was wrong in my world. In that moment I felt... vulnerable. I felt like they were exposing the mask that I had fought so hard to create in order to hide my true feelings. Two children. That's all it took for me to explode into a whirlpool of emotion. All of that hate began to race through my veins. They had angered me and they were going to pay. All of a sudden, I felt cold, though the heat of my anger continued to rush through me. The coldness shaped for me a mask of indifference, but in reality the heat of my anger boiled like lava in the concealed core of me.

I felt even angrier when I realized that I didn't know where all of this fury and bitterness came from. I couldn't place the cause, so I took it out on what had made me snap.

I took them deeper into the cave, to the lake that lay in the center of the darkness. I had once explored this area, and I knew that there was no way to travel around lake entirely. It was so dark now that the only way I could find my way around was from reaching out and touching the cold stone wall. The water ran up to the very edge, and if you followed it farther down you would find that the cave wall stopped and curved around.

Dennis and Amy followed me unwillingly into the lake. The water was only ankle deep, and it stayed level the entire journey to the center. There was a small body of land in the middle of the shallow lake. I climbed up onto the rock, but scraped my hand on the sharp surface. It hurt, but I did not cry. I never cried; even as a child I had not cried, the nurses had told me. I continued to climb with one hand, hating the feeling of being crippled.  
I don't know how long I tormented them; played with their minds. I could make people hurt without touching them, I could make them cry out in pain when it was only in their minds. I was so angry at my past that I realized this would be a just punishment. I made them relive their worst experiences, which was coupled with severe physical pain. These children did not know the first thing when it came to suffering.

I don't know exactly how long we stayed there. It was the first time in my life that I had lost track of time… had forgotten myself for even as moment. It was a wonderful feeling. I finally realized that I had to get back before anything got too out of hand.

I found the will inside myself too drag their two limp and unconscious forms to the cave opening with my mind.

I blinked once, and found myself at the top off the cliff blinking in the sudden sunlight. I glanced around and saw the two children beginning to stir. They would remember nothing. Only in their dreams would they remember the exact events, but I would not be remembered as the one who orchestrated the trip. But they would always be scared; but they would not be able to find a source for their fear. But just like me, the fear would always be present.

I was suddenly _concerned_, not scared, but apprehensive about what would happen next. How would he explain himself? What would he say to explain the state of the other two children?

I cast my worries aside. I am on my way to greatness.

(A.N.) Sorry guys, that's all I have for now. I'm going to try to update later today. I would love it if you review, it makes me feel appreciated. Us writers like to know even I you read it.

Love you all!

P. S. Can ya'll think of a different title? **A Mask of Indifference** sounds really lame, even if it does make sense later on.

Next chapter: **Chapter III: The Letter- When he receives a mysterious letter, for the first time in his life, Tom feels disappointment. Nobody was coming to reclaim their lost son. **

SHOULD I KEEP GOING? I have more. If you want i can turn this into a romance time turner story. let me know what you think by reviewing!


	4. Update

UPDATE—to anyone who stumbled upon this fic and might be wondering where the rest of it is.

**MY QUESTION: Should I continue this story?**

PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK IN A REVIEW OR PM!

Reasoning:

To tell you the truth I only just remembered that I had written this in the first place. I last updated May 2010. Sad, right? My first ever fanfic is unfinished even after more than a year later.

At this point my main priority is After Ever, but in what little free time I have I may be able to squeeze in a few chapters every so often. Do you think it is worth it to continue? I know it is not the best fic ever, my first mind you, but I feel almost obligated to finish it. I would be very grateful for any suggestions. Should I let it go?

Thanks for your time

Jack P Tollers (formerly C. E. Sparks)


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Harry Potter, Drama