The Golden Thread

Chapter 1: A Wedding Day

(A/N: So, this story may or may not be familiar to you. I posted it a while back, abandoned it, and then recently came back to it. I've decided to go through and re-edit the whole thing, so I took down the original, and will be posting from scratch again. If you're a new reader, welcome! If you're a returning reader, welcome back! This is an AU time travel story, focused on a Tom Riddle/OC pairing, and I hope you enjoy!)

The students of Hogwarts had been taught many things in the twenty-four years since the end of the Second Wizarding War. Lord Voldemort, the Supreme Ruler, was the most powerful wizard ever to live. He would live forever, gracing the world with his leadership for eternity. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had died like a coward, running away. Purebloods were the only sort that could be considered human—Half-Breeds, Mudbloods, and Muggles were no better than animals and, as such, had been exterminated or forced into servitude.

Lucie Selwyn had never given much thought to these things. As the youngest daughter of an extremely wealthy pureblood family, they had been ingrained into her from the very day of her birth. Perhaps she had always felt that something wasn't quite right about the mantra she had been taught about blood, but her doubts alarmed her, and of course she'd never dare to admit them, even to herself.

Lucie looked into the gold-rimmed mirror in front of her, running a brush unnecessarily through her dark blonde curls. Her grey eyes were encircled with touches of the highest quality makeup available, applied painstakingly by her mother. A sigh passing her lips, Lucie rose from her chair, her long, lacy white dress swirling about her.

It was her sixteenth birthday, but it was not important for the reasons that many would think. She was not simply celebrating the progression of her age, but a union that had been planned since she was an infant. All her life, Lucie had been betrothed, as was proper for young pureblood ladies, and the day had come when she was to be married. Her husband-to-be was the heir to the Malfoy fortune, a boy slightly older than her by the name of Scorpius.

A slight smile fell across her features as Lucie walked around her bedroom for the last time. There were photographs of her family placed here and there around the airy, spacious room. Her mother, Drusilla, and her father, Morpheus, standing together on their own wedding day, waving regally at the camera. It had been a spectacular event, as Lucie had been told, full of laughter and dancing.

There were pictures of the day that Lucie's sister, Anastasia, had been married as well, just a year prior. Anastasia's husband was a kind sort of fellow, and he seemed to make his wife happy. Lucie hoped that her husband would do the same.

Anastasia and Mortimer (the only son of the family), had inherited their parents' smooth dark hair, dark eyes, and long eyelashes. Lucie had always wondered about her own golden hair, but her mother had told her time and again, when discussing the matter, that Selwyns had married Malfoys before—good, respectable pureblood families tended to be interrelated—and her colouring came from that part of their family.

Glancing down at her hand, Lucie studied the large, beautiful engagement ring that had adorned her finger since the age of eleven. The diamond, though ample, was tastefully cut and surrounded by smaller diamonds, and they all sat prettily on the white gold band. The ring was goblin-crafted, Lucie had been told, and had been in the Malfoy line for many decades.

It had been given to her in a formal ceremony, as was tradition. There had been a grand dinner in the gardens, and she and Scorpius had been thrust under the heated gaze of all the politely clapping pureblood families surrounding them. The young boy had taken a knee, as he was supposed to, and presented her with the ring and a proposal for her hand in marriage. A very red-faced Lucie had graciously accepted, but she hadn't been able to look Scorpius in the eye for quite some time.

Smiling a bit at the memory, Lucie wandered over to her large bay window and gazed down at the sprawling, beautiful gardens of the Selwyn estate. Closer to the manor, there was a lush expanse of green grass, fully trimmed and equipped with rows of white chairs, an aisle littered with rose petals, and refreshment tables, around which gathered many a pureblood witch and wizard, all surely honored to be guests at a such a blessed union.

Thinking of who would be presiding over the ceremony, Lucie paled just the slightest amount. The Supreme Ruler had conducted every union of pureblood children since the beginning of his regime—and, indeed, that was every union. Those not of respectable blood status did not have the luxury of entering into something so prestigious as marriage.

After a while, when Lucie had finally finished dressing, Anastasia entered into the room. She wore a simple, emerald-coloured bridesmaid dress, complete with a proud smile. Her dark hair was pulled prettily into a style that was befitting of a wealthy young woman, and a string of family pearls, given to her on her own wedding day, rested lightly on her throat.

"Lucie, dear," she said softly, "it is time."

Adjusting her dress one last time, Lucie placed a hand on Anastasia's arm and allowed the older girl to lead her out of her bedroom and down the grand, sweeping staircase to the lower level of their manor. They passed several servants along the way—pitiable, cowering creatures with dirty blood, her mother always said. Lucie, always a proper young lady, had never done anything cruel to any of them in particular, but her indifference was enough to make them frightened of her.

Morpheus was waiting by the imposing, ornate double doors that led to the yard. He gazed at his youngest daughter as she descended the stairs, appraising her, and then finally granted her a rare smile, finding nothing wrong.

"You look beautiful, my daughter," he said when the two sisters reached him, kissing Lucie lightly on the forehead. He turned to the older sister. "Anastasia, dear, go and inform the orchestra that the bride is prepared to make her entrance." Nodding once and squeezing her sister's shoulder encouragingly, Anastasia was off.

As they waited, Lucie thought of how odd it would be to go back to school for her sixth year with a husband. It wasn't a particularly bothersome thought to her, but she didn't find excessive cheer in it, either. It was simply the way things were. Many of her classmates were married, or soon would be. It was the custom.

The music began to play and Lucie, taking a deep breath, took hold of her father's arm and stepped out into the sunlight.

All of the guests had risen to their feet as the orchestra began to play, and they craned their necks to see the bride. Lucie had allowed a gracious smile to fall across her reddened lips, and she let her eyes roam around the scene before her. Near the front of the congregation were her mother and brother, Mortimer. The former's eyes were brimming with tears, and she blew a silent kiss to her daughter. Every pureblood family of worth was in attendance, but Lucie's eyes were instead trained on the end of the aisle.

Scorpius stood there handsomely, hands clasped together out of sheer nervousness. Beside him, looming menacingly, was the Supreme Ruler, dressed in the billowing black robes he always wore. Lucie had always been quietly terrified of the man—if he could indeed be called such—but had never voiced her thoughts. To do so would be akin to treason.

As she walked slowly with her father, Lucie thought that things were progressing beautifully, better than she could have expected.

Then a woman screeched, the sound almost inhuman, and the entire procession stopped—even the orchestra sputtered into silence. The woman continued to wail, incoherent words escaping into the air, and Lucie saw who it was.

Bellatrix Lestrange was a deranged madwoman, they all knew, but she had been a fearsome warrior in the war against Harry Potter, and was revered as a loyal follower of the Supreme Ruler. If one wanted to remain alive, they would not dare to question her. At that moment, she was standing at the end of the aisle, in front of her master as though guarding him, and waving her wand about dangerously.

"Traitor!" she bellowed, pointing her wand directly at Lucie's chest. "Filthy little heathen! This girl is an imposter!"

Shock spread through Lucie at Bellatrix's nonsensical accusations. The woman was crazed—Lucie was a Selwyn, with blood as pure as blood could be. Before the terrified girl could put a voice to any of her thoughts, the madwoman had jumped from the dais, and was heading straight for Lucie. A curse fell from Bellatrix's lips, and a jet of red light shot out of her wand, aimed for the bride.

The congregation exploded into chaos, people running about and screaming, trying to Disapparate with their families. Suddenly, Lucie felt herself being pulled out of the way of the curse and shoved unceremoniously under one of the refreshment tables. She turned to see her savior, expecting to meet her father's eyes, but found herself face to face with a hooded figure, all of their features shrouded in darkness.

Lucie tried to scream, to alert her family, but the figure clapped a hand over her mouth before she could so much as make a sound. Lucie could tell from the size of the hands that it was a man, and he pulled her flush against him

"Please, Lucie, don't struggle," he whispered, and the very sound of her name was enough to shock her into stillness. The stranger continued: "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. If I let you go, can I trust you not to scream?"

Still thoroughly petrified, Lucie nodded weakly. The figure sighed once and removed his hand, and Lucie turned around to look at him, hoping to get a glimpse of his face. Before she could reach for his hood, though the stranger thrust something into Lucie's hand. She glanced down, surprised to see a a tied, fully packed rucksack. She tried to speak again, but the stranger had already moved onto another task.

He was looping a thin golden chain around her neck, and upon further inspection, Lucie saw that it was connected to a strange device she had never seen the likes of.

"Turn the dial all the way back, Lucie," the figure whispered before she could ask what it was. "Hurry, before it's too late!"

Suddenly another voice reached them, through all of the chaos outside. "I'll find you, little girl! You can't hide from me!" At the sound of Bellatrix's screeching, Lucie paled and she felt as though her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

The stranger grabbed Lucie's chin, turning her attention back to the device hanging around her neck. Panicking, she placed her thumb on the dial and, just as he had told her to, she pulled it all the way back.

She felt a jerk in her chest, and everything went black.