Inception: Rise of the Heir
Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.
The sun was starting to set in the sky, marking the end of Tom's first day in New York. He was walking briskly down the sidewalk in another seedy neighborhood, this time without the aid of a locating spell. He had spent the rest of the day wandering the city after he had left The Blind Pig, the small sheet of parchment given to him by Gnarlak clasped tightly into his balled fist. He knew America was going to be a harder country to explore and to delve into, especially since he was a foreigner, but he still frustrated with the idea that he, of all wizards, needed the assistance of another. He himself had pushed the boundaries of magic further than any he knew and had succeeded where no one in history had. He forced himself to look at the piece of parchment in his clenched hand which might held the key to what he sought.
He acknowledged the fact a while ago, that no matter how many books he devoured, how many countless pages he had memorized and analysed, that it would not help him gain access into these smaller guarded wizarding communities. Hunted for centuries by muggles, the wizarding world in America had burrowed deep underground and were wary of outsiders and people they were not accustomed to or familiar with. This journey of his would be a waste of time if he never got the chance to appropriate foreign magic. He could and would not go home until he had learned every last secret, every last dark and ancient spell that would propel him into his destiny. Europe had been easy, magic was abundant and the communities in which he had explored had not been reduced to cowering in the shadows, like so many of the ones that had settled here. He had uncovered many ancient secrets, forbidden spells and made acquaintances with many who shared his ideals, giving him access and leading him, whether willingly or not, to the answers he wanted.
After leaving The Blind Pig, he had sat for what seemed hours under a bridge in a park in Manhattan under the light of the moon, reading feverishly about the wizarding world he sought, there was plenty of information in the book, but nothing on where to find them or where to start. It was frustrating. He had read that book, amongst countless others, multiple times but none of his studies proved to be successful. He had learned that the different communities practiced multiple kinds of magic, all different and only those who believed in the modernization of magic sent their children to Ilvermorny, the great North American wizarding school. Most of them however, due to the expansive size of the United States and the mistrust of muggles and fellow wizards alike, self taught their youth at home, guarding their traditions and secrets from outsiders.
The books themselves, dove deeply into ancient and dark magic that were abundantly practiced, but none had incantations or spells to go along with their descriptions, only names and titles. The knowledge of this magic wasn't forbidden, like it had been in Europe, but buried so far underground select few had the knowledge on how to perform it. Magic that could raise the dead, that could turn ordinary objects into something more desirable, magic that could control dreams and force others to see what you wanted them to. It was all here, it was written down in text, but with no explanation on how to perform it. This is why he knew he had needed a guide, someone with the necessary key to open all the locked doors ahead of him.
He stood up calmly, dusting the grass gently off his legs. It was time.
He grabbed his suitcase and furrowed his brows as he thought about the address on the paper. With a loud crack, he disapparated, leaving nothing behind him but crumpled grass to show where he had been.
He found himself on what seemed to be an abandoned street, most of the houses were in disarray, crumbled ruins and charred remains with boarded windows and doors. The buildings that weren't boarded up contained windows that had iron bars on their frames, looking more like prisons than homes. The air had a feeling of despair, of melancholy and destitution from years and years of oppression and neglect. Car horns honked in the distance, followed by faint cracks and pops of what sounded like small fireworks, echoing off the silent walls of the neighborhood.
A single street lamp flickered on and off at the end of the dead end city block, illuminating a cracked and decrepit brick wall, standing eerily alone in the shadows it cast around the surrounding houses. Tom walked up to it as he glanced at the address written on the paper. As he stared at the partially dilapidated surface, a small address appeared directly in front of his face, scratching itself haphazardly onto the wall as if made by an invisible hand, the words glowing as he slowly read it back to himself. He glanced quickly behind him, to make sure no one was watching and once again turned his attention to its face, searching for the brown brick Gnarlak had told him about. He quickly spotted it and pulled out his wand, tapping on it three times as instructed and taking a small step back.
The wall started to shake as bricks started popping and cracking; resizing themselves and jutting outward slowly to form a hidden door. As Tom reached forward, a small door knob appeared from thin air. He grasped it and turned it steadily, watching the door swing in slowly, but with ease. He peered in from the doorway, looking down the long dark hallway that lay beyond, a closed door at the end, masking a glowing light that could be seen shining from under the cracks and spaces in its frame.
He entered the hallway slowly, trying to watch his footing in the dark as he made his way forward. He had not been inside for more than five seconds, when he heard the stone door close after him, sealing him away from the nighttime air he had left behind. As he raised his wand to utter a spell that offered him some illumination, he found that as he walked down the hallway, small candles appeared on either sides of the walls, lighting up up one by one as he approached them. The lighting was not bright, but he could start to make out some of his surroundings, staring at the floors and walls and ceilings as he progressed. The flooring creaked, the wood warped and uneven as he made his way slowly, placing his feet carefully so as to not lose his footing over some of the boards that jutted out from their intended space. The ceiling was full of holes and cobwebs, exposed wood lay out in the open as the bits of plaster that had once been covering them lay about the floor in broken piles of debris. As the candles illuminated the walls he noticed the faded and shredded pink wallpaper that hung negligently from them, making the corridor seem less appealing with each and every step.
As he approached the door, he could see a the faint warm glow still flickering from behind it as well as what appeared to be a shadow behind the entrance, signalling the presence of another. He came to a stop at the door, watching the shadow disappear out of sight. He kept his wand firmly in his grasp and aimed it quickly at the door eager to see what lay beyond, it swung open effortlessly, revealing a warm ray of light.
Tom pushed the door gently, and calmly stepped into what appeared to be a large room with no windows or doors, save for the one he had just entered. A fireplace was lit and crackling at the back end of the room, giving off the warm ambient glow he had seen from the other side, in front of the fire lay two lavishly plush chairs, empty. A medium sized wooden desk sat off to the right hand of the room, the top littered with papers and quills and a small array of candles, giving off extra lighting to whomever the desk belonged to. A large feathered quill floated on its own, scribbling away furiously on a piece of parchment, stopping only to take small dips in the elaborate bottle of ink placed to the left side of the desk. Letters were ripping themselves up and floating neatly into the fire, feeding it, while a radio softly hummed with the sounds of music he had never heard before. He looked around the room quickly, no one appeared to be there.
"Hello?" he said softly. Tom furrowed his eyebrows in frustration as he waited for a reply. He was certain he had seen someone behind the door earlier.
As he continued to look at his surroundings, he noticed a large area of the wall in the left hand corner of the room covered with maps that continuously changed, their routes covered in small red markings, appearing and moving around on certain spots, disappearing and reappearing as the new images appeared and took the previous ones place. Newspaper clippings were also floating about the wall, various articles and pictures intermixed between the maps moving themselves as they saw fit. He walked closer towards them, interested in the maps laid out before him and noticed floating newspaper clippings with headlines that read:
"STRANGE DISAPPEARANCES IN MULTIPLE CITIES."
"REOCCURING NO-MAJ DEATHS ARE A MYSTERY ... WENDIGO OR WIZARD?"
As he leaned closer to read the articles, more curious than ever, he heard the door shut softly behind him and a silky voice say. "Ah, I've been expecting you for quite some time now, I was wondering if you were going to come."
Tom turned around towards who had addressed him, not surprised they had already known he sought them, of course the goblin would have sent word ahead he was coming. As he once again combed his hair back with his hands, his eyes fell upon who the voice had come from. A lone woman stood at the side of the desk, wearing a traveling cloak that masked her perfect figure. Soft black waves of hair fell down her shoulders as she stared at him, a smile starting to form on her lips.
"I stepped out for a moment," she continued "I had matters I needed to attend to." She walked across the room, taking off the cloak and gently tossed it behind her, it floated and hung itself back up on a small coat stand by the door.
"No matter." said Tom. He watched her as she eyed him coldly, realizing his attention had been focused on her private maps and studies while she had been gone. She waved her hand quickly behind her head, as she turned around and walked towards a small cabinet containing a small cauldron and hundred of vials of potion ingredients. She quickly removed two vials from the pockets of her form fitting dress and placed them amongst some of the others as she closed the cabinet doors behind her. He watched as the maps and newspapers he had just been reading started folding themselves up and quickly whipped into an open purse she had left on the table next to them.
"Those don't concern you." she said, in tone that sounded less friendly than it had before. "Come and have a seat." She looked at him once more and gestured to a chair that was placed on the opposite side of the desk. He slowly walked over towards it, placing his suitcase before him on the wooden desk.
"Of course...Ms..?" Tom replied curtly as he sat in the seat presented to him
She was beautiful, with long black hair that was styled perfectly into soft waves, her skin was as white as porcelain, not a marr or mark in sight and her lips were painted a perfect red to offset it all. She reminded Tom of the girls in those muggle pin-up magazines he remembered seeing at the orphanage, tucked away under some of the other boys beds, hiding them from Mrs. Cole, lest she take them away for their lewd and inappropriate purpose. Tom had never been interested enough to steal one while he would sneak into their rooms, he only took belongings which he deemed valuable or significant, watching them with a gleeful smile in the morning when they realized their precious possessions had disappeared. She was a spitting image of those women, the only abnormality on her otherwise perfect appearance were her eyes, one a golden amber, the other a piercing blue.
As she crossed her legs neatly in front of her, she looked at him once more, studying his face. "I believe before we start, an introduction is in order. My name is Lyra. Lyra Leroux. And you of course, are Mr…."
"Tom Riddle" he said, softly, a clear distaste in his eyes as he said his name.
"Mr. Tom Riddle…." she said softly not breaking eye contact with him. "How may I be of service to you."
He broke her gaze as he looked down to unlatch his suitcase, quickly pulling out a small piece of parchment and closing it immediately. "I wish to travel extensively through this country for personal research and I was told if I wanted to acquire any knowledge at all I would need someone such as yourself to help me."
"And why would you need me exactly?" Lyra said as she waved her wand at another nearby cabinet, two glasses and a bottle of wine landed next to her neatly, as the glasses poured themselves. She set one down before him and leaned back into her chair, softly sipping on the wine, not taking her eyes off him.
"My pursuits are...difficult. Your communities very closed off to those like me. A foreigner in this country."
"Difficult?" she said raising an eyebrow. "What sort of difficult?" she raised her hand and the parchment that had been in Tom's hand appeared in hers. She read the scribbled notes and looked back up at him slowly, deep in thought.
Tom scowled slightly as the the witch had taken the parchment without his voiced permission, an act he would have never allowed under any other circumstance but this one. He had permitted her to take it, not overpowering her will as he normally would have done; he needed her aid and he was unwilling to show his true intentions or power to those who he deemed were not worthy.
"Research, you said it was?" Lyra said holding out her glass to be refilled from the floating wine bottle. "This is some kinda research all right. I won't pry into your business Mr. Riddle, I'm all about the don't ask, don't tell policy, but the destinations you have written down on here are of interesting choice...New Orleans and Salem to name a few…."
She trailed off, not needing to read aloud all of his desires. She narrowed her eyes and rubbed her temples gently. "Tell me Mr. Riddle, are you familiar with anything about this country other than what you have read?"
Tom answered her with a cold silence.
"Aside from witches and wizards who would rather kill you then share anything with you, you need to fear the creatures we might encounter more Mr. Riddle."
"I assure you Ms. Leroux, I am quite capable of handling myself." he said softly.
"I don't doubt that." she said quietly, still deep in thought. She got up from the desk and walked over to the fireplace, standing directly in front of it. Swirling the wine around in the glass. "Now it's time to discuss payment. For reasons, I don't care to indulge, I myself am searching for something. Normally, a trip such as yours I would charge well over one hundred thousand dragots. Which I assume, you do not have."
She was once again met with silence. She continued softly. "As fate would have it, I will be stopping at every one of your cities you have outlined on my way, more or less. So I will take you with me."
Tom looked up suspiciously at her, unwilling to accept his luck. "Why Miss Leroux, that is very generous of you, but I must insist on at least compensating you partially for your trouble." He spoke softly, trying to appear genuine and polite to the unwitting witch in front of him. He of course had had no intention of compensating her, nor clueing her in at all to what he sought. He would use her and her knowledge of this country and when he was done with her he would dispose of her like he had done to so many before her.
A small whistling noise came from a tiny sphere encased in glass on her desk, whirring and screeching louder with every second that passed. Lyra's concentration broke as she took the small item off the desktop and shoved it hastily into a drawer. Her eyes narrowed and locked onto Toms once more as she replied "Payment is not needed Mr. Riddle, but my offer comes with stipulations."
"What kind of stipulations?" Tom said, raising an eyebrow, smiling at her.
"I will visit the cities on your list in an order in which I see fit and I may disappear at anytime for any length of time I desire. Since I am not on retainer, I will not be subject to any demands you make of me. I will also not tolerate questions of any kind pertaining to my personal business, I in turn will not ask you any questions about your research and I will take you everywhere you desire in due time, that is a promise."
Tom smiled at her and nodded his head. "I accept these terms and your gracious offer Ms. Leroux, I look forward to our time spent together."
Lyra nodded and took another sip of wine. Lost in her thoughts for a moment, she reflected on the man in front of her and wondered if she would regret the bargain she had just struck. Her sneak-o-scope had gone bonkers after he had replied to her proposal. They were unreliable, yes and easily tricked, but they did hold a bit of truth. By appearance, the man in front of her seemed genuine and polite as well incredibly handsome. Unnaturally so. His eyes were a deep chocolate brown, his hair hung darkly around his perfect cheekbones, his skin as pale as milk. He spoke with an uncommon softness that was rare amongst men his age, she had observed him closely in the small time they had been in each other's company and for all intensive purposes she had no reason to mistrust him at all. But for some odd reason she had a feeling in her gut that was telling her otherwise, that this one needed to be watched closely. He was not what he appeared. He intrigued her, she knew she had never laid eyes on his face before, he was most certainly a stranger, but somehow something about him felt familiar, something she had felt once in a dream...
She slowly put the glass down and raised her eyes to meet his unwavering gaze, still focused on her. "Well then Mr. Riddle, we leave at dawn. I assume you must need rest, your first day here I'm sure has been a long one."
She raised herself up from her chair as she turned and walked towards one of the overstuffed chairs by the fire, gazing into its depths.
"That's very kind of you Ms. Leroux, but if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer we leave now. The earlier the start, the better…" He spoke in a gentle but assertive voice. He was eager to begin. He continued to gaze at her and furrowed his brows slightly.
Lyra noticed a strange look in his eyes as she felt a sharp stab toward the side of her head and blocked it out. She rubbed her temples and looked back into the fire, a concerned look on her face.
"As you wish." she replied.
Phew. Sorry it took awhile to update! It's so crazy right now with the holidays upon us, and I have been working SO MUCH. I'll try to post the next few chapters before new years, if all goes well! hopefully the next update will be on monday!
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