The Luck of Little Hangleton – Prologue by Pipenerd (2006)
Written for the 2006 Dark Lord WishFest.
Prompt: "...a romantic situation where Tom/Harry make love in a forest on Midsummer's Eve, then afterwards Tom softly recites Sonnet 18 by Shakespeare to Harry. I do not mind what the rating is as long as the love between Tom and Harry is evident..."
Thanks to: Sabrina Nubair, most patient of Betas, and Mr. Pipenerd, who played Kit Marlowe to my Will Shakespeare during the writing of this fic.
Pairs: Harry/Tom (Lord Voldemort), Hermione/Ron.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling created and owns Harry Potter. looks in mirror Nope, not her. Rights are held by JKR, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic. Warner Brothers and goodness knows who else. If the fans had copyright, the series would be much more interesting! Not profiting, just enjoying.
The village of Little Hangleton has been inhabited since antiquity. In the earliest days, Celtic tribesmen built a fort on the hill overlooking the river and the rich lands below. These folk raised livestock and farmed, wove cloth and made leather goods. During Roman times, farms were built in the valley and the fort fell out of use. Yet some people continued to visit the old fort on the hill with offerings of food and flowers in the belief that helpful spirits inhabited the place.
With the arrival of the Normans, the village began to prosper. A noble knight, Sir Guilliame de Ryedel, received property as a gift from the King and built a manor on the hill. Hunting one summer day and caught in a sudden storm, he sought shelter in the old fort. The next day he brought home a wild and beautiful woman to be his bride. Their marriage flourished, as did Little Hangleton. Tradesmen were attracted to the estate and village to provide the many services needed by the large medieval household. The old forest was set aside as the private hunting preserve of the nobility and because the livestock were still allowed to roam free within its precincts, relations between the lord and the farmers were harmonious.
Two fine children were born to the lord and lady of Little Hangleton. Simon, the eldest son, was educated in all the skills expected of a knight and the heir of a noble estate. When the time came to marry, it was assumed he would have a bride from France. Instead, one night a wild and beautiful girl appeared at the gate to the manor and soon after, she and Simon were wed. The family and the village continued to burgeon. Plague and famine struck other towns, not Little Hangleton. Wars resulted only in the enrichment of the Ryedel holdings. The herds were always fat, the harvests always abundant. Folk began to whisper that the village luck stemmed from an alliance the Ryedel lords concluded with the fairies from the fort and that prosperity would last as long as the sons took a fairy bride. The folk of Little Hangleton continued to visit the old fort on the hill with gifts of food and flowers. Young girls sometimes went there to ask for the love of a special boy and parents to pray for a sick child.
Generations passed and Little Hangleton continued to be a rich farming community. Folk still raised livestock and farmed, wove cloth and made leather goods. Industrialization was something people read about in the newspapers from the big cities. Then, against tradition, Sir Thomas Riddle married a girl from London. People began to notice there was less demand for the cloth woven at the local mill. The sons of the town left to fight in Flanders and many never returned. As the Riddle's only son approached manhood, the oldest villagers wondered whether he would bring home a wild and beautiful bride.
Instead, Tom Riddle ran off with the daughter of the poorest family in town. The young man returned home alone a year later. Rumours spread that the girl he had wed had tricked him by falsely claiming to be pregnant, but no one ever saw the girl again and his prominent family would certainly have wanted to raise their grandchild. Whatever the truth, the Riddle family closed ranks and kept to the mansion on the hill. As their fortunes declined, so did those of the village. Shops closed, the mill moved to a larger town, the children of farmers left to find work elsewhere.
One day, the gardener at the mansion was arrested for the murders of the elder Riddles and their son. Folk at the local pub, the Hanged Man, gossiped for days about the possible motive, but everyone knew what had happened: the Riddles had broken their ancient alliance with the fairies. The luck of Little Hangleton was gone.