Few modern politicians enjoyed such a seemingly effortless rise to the top as David Cameron.

From gilded youth to rising star of the Tory benches to Prime Minister, the Witney MP's progress has at times seemed pre-ordained.

It was only at the very brink of entering 10 Downing Street that his step seemed to falter and the prize seemed momentarily about to slip from his grasp.

His carefully-prepared plans to oust Gordon Brown and end the Conservatives' 13 years in the wilderness did not include the possibility that he would be outshone by Nick Clegg on TV during the election campaign and would then have to offer the third party leader a coalition deal.

Some in his party are understood to be furious that the man who said he knew how to win back power made unforced errors, such as demanding TV debates between the leaders at a time when he was ahead in the polls and building the Tory campaign around the nebulous concept of the "Big Society", which was difficult to sell on the doorstep.

But Mr Cameron kept his nerve, proved himself able to reach out to the Liberal Democrats and fend off Labour attempts to deny him power by forging a "progressive alliance" of non-Conservative parties in the hung Parliament.

Like the party he has finally led back to power - albeit not outright power - the Conservative leader had to undergo his own process of re-invention.

Now, as he approaches the biggest challenge of his career, he will need to convince voters that the changes are not just skin deep.

He was born into wealth and privilege, the Eton and Oxford educated son of a stockbroker who married the daughter of a baronet.

He might have seemed, on the face of it, to be a throwback to another era when the ruling classes governed as of right.

He has, however, carefully re-crafted his image as a modern family man, pioneering internet chats while cooking meals for his children, and embracing fashionable causes like climate change.

But Mr Cameron has also shown political steel in his drive to rid the Conservatives of their image as the "nasty party", brooking no opposition to his modernising agenda.

Born on October 9 1966, his early life gave little sign of what would lie ahead. At university he took little interest in student politics, becoming involved instead with the Bullingdon Club - a dining society for ex-public schoolboys with a reputation for drunken excesses.

Nevertheless on graduating in 1988 with a first in philosophy, politics and economics, he landed a job in the Conservative research department, the first step of his political career.

After a spell seconded to No 10 where he helped brief John Major for prime minister's questions, he was talent-spotted by then-chancellor Norman Lamont who made him his special adviser.

It gave him a ringside seat during the crisis of Black Wednesday in 1992 when Britain was humiliatingly forced out of the European exchange rate mechanism.

In 1994 he took a break from politics, becoming director of corporate affairs at Carlton Communications for seven years, where he honed his PR skills.

After unsuccessfully standing in Stafford in the 1997 general election, he was elected in the safe Conservative seat of Witney in 2001.

He quickly established himself as one of the brightest of the new Tory intake, becoming the leading light of the so-called "Notting Hill set" of young modernisers who grouped themselves around Michael Howard after he became leader in 2003.

He also underwent the life-changing experience of seeing his first child, Ivan, born suffering from cerebral palsy and severe epilepsy.

Friends said that it opened him up, turning the brash young man who had enjoyed an uninterrupted ascent into an altogether more rounded, thoughtful and sympathetic character.

In 2009 he and his wife, Samantha, endured the heartbreak of Ivan's death, aged just six.

Meanwhile, his political career was progressing apace, with Mr Howard entrusting him with the key task of policy co-ordinator in the run-up to the 2005 election.

Nevertheless it was something of a surprise when he decided to challenge for the leadership in the wake of Mr Howard's decision to stand down following the party's third consecutive defeat - and an even bigger shock when he overtook the favourites David Davis and Kenneth Clarke to win.

It was immediately clear that he was a new kind of Conservative leader - at ease on the sofas of daytime television talking about his family and boasting of his enthusiasm for bands like The Smiths.

There was even a studiedly modern ambiguity over his refusal to comment on reports of youthful dabbling with drugs.

He quickly set about changing the party in his own image. There was an eye-catching trip to a Norwegian glacier, complete with huskies, to underline his new concern for the environment.

Old preoccupations with Europe were largely forgotten and hardline law and order rhetoric replaced with the language of "broken Britain" and greater understanding for young people - gleefully caricatured by opponents as "hug a hoodie".

Crucially, he sought to reform the face of his party, breaking the stranglehold of white middle and upper class males by ensuring the selection of more women and ethnic minority candidates through his "A-list" system.

In making changes he consciously sought to echo the transformation Tony Blair wrought on his party a decade earlier.

The reforms did not, inevitably, go down well in all quarters of the party. He was accused by Lord Tebbit of trying to purge all memories of Thatcherism, while others complained of his reliance - like Mr Blair - on a small group of key confidantes and advisers, to the exclusion of outsiders.

But with the Conservatives finally reversing Labour's long-standing lead in the opinion polls, opening up the prospect of a return to power, most were prepared to suppress their doubts.

There were, of course, setbacks. His "green" credentials took a knock when it was disclosed that he was followed on his cycle ride to work by a driver taking his papers and other belongings.

Critics said that it was symptomatic of a politician who put image before policy. His task now is to convince voters that he offers real substance as well.