Hey Everyone! Finally decided to publish my first story. I have spent quite some time thinking about this story and ever since I ran across some amazing fics, I decided to finally write and share some of my ideas. Initially, it's going to follow closely to canon but as the story moves you'll start seeing things I consider JK could have done better.
Finally, I have to say thank you to Unknown and Noir for their help in structuring many things in this story, it has helped me to further create this fic and I hope you enjoy it.
Without further to do let's begin with the chapter
It was a dark and rainy night in the small town of Little Hangleton, in Western England. Many of its shops and streets were closed and people were hurrying across the street to get to their homes faster, or getting into any cab they could find at this hour. The raindrops began to fall heavier and faster than before making the sky seem as if it was a broken dam, and the streets filled with water every second that passed, the sky darkened even more and the cold was beginning to fill the bodies of everyone on the town. No one could think how anyone would want to spend the rest of their evening in any of the buildings that surrounded the town's limits at this time as even some people that lived far from the center of town would often go there with neighbors to spend the rest of the night with them while the storm raged outside.
It had become worse the past few weeks with the cold getting worse and worse by each day that passed, the townspeople were perplexed as to what could have caused such a change in their once relatively sunny town. Some of them had started giving different and very crazy explanations as to what could have caused it: the temperature rising in other parts of the world, that they had now the clouds and climate that was coming from the arctic circle thanks to the harsh winds or that they had finally met the wrath of the gods among the ones that frequently discussed.
The horrible climate, their everyday lives, and jobs, how their families were, talk about how some football game was the other day was the usual talk that kept them entertained and warm on nights like this, but the main piece of entertainment in every home was the story that the older inhabitants of the village still liked to discuss when the other topics died down.
The story had been picked up many times over, had many different accounts and theories that many grew confused and none could tell what was true and what was not. But the descriptions of things that happened, what the police had found and shared with the community always managed to turn everyone somber and foreboding of the story and listened attentively without any argument to what their neighbor or familiar who had been around that time had to say about the abandoned manor in the hill.
It had long been abandoned since the owners were mysteriously murdered in their home almost fifty years ago. The Riddles were known by all of the townsfolk as they lived in the biggest building to be seen in miles around this part of the western border with Wales and was just an hour away from Montgomery the nearest city, making it an important landmark. They kept mostly to themselves and only came down to town to gather food and supplies every month so only a couple of people knew them better than most, but no matter how little most of the town knew of them it all changed one summer's morning when their maids and guards came down in a hurry and with a pale dreaded filled face and the maids screaming about what had happened.
"It was a massacre, Th-their bodies and th- the… .room.. they're everywhere " The maid had screamed with all the effort she could manage as she had puked during her warning.
The police had been called and had the whole forensics team in the mansion as fast as they could, they were perplexed as hardly they hadn't seen a bloodier scene in their careers around this area but that was the case in this place.
Nobody wasted a breath or a tear for the Riddles. Besides their big mansion and reclusion, the people had to remember their attitude of being snobbish, rude, rich and spoiled so nobody cared for them the only reason they spoke of the whole thing besides the horrendous act was to know the identity of the murderer.
The whole town had been kept at night discussing the theories just like it was right now on this rainy night of July. The whole town had gathered then under The Dark Hand the village pub and they were rewarded their efforts of leaving their homes when later in the night the Riddle's cook stormed in and told them that the man that was called Frank had been captured by the police.
"Frank? As in Frank Bryce? he wouldn't ….. would he?" Asked several people
Frank Bryce was the Riddle's gardener. He had begun working fifteen years ago as he came back from a war that left him with nothing more than a stiff leg, a great dislike for noise and crowds, and had a grumpy attitude to anyone who tried to talk to him, so he kept mostly to himself. For fifteen years he worked for the Riddle family, living mainly in a small cottage that was given to him and worked every day on the plants that surrounded the manse and picking up some of the provisions from town every fortnight.
The whole town was perplexed and interested, they rushed with drinks in hands and gathered around to speculate how a peaceful, limp, and grumpy gardener could have killed at least 4 or 5 people in such a gruesome manner.
"I always thought he was odd. I tried to give him a cup of tea or some in-between foods but he always refused. Like a hundred times I've offered and a hundred times he refused saying he preferred to cook himself, never wanted to mix with anyone."
"Oh come on, he just came back from a war…. , of course, he would like to be reserved it doesn't mean…"
"Then how do you explain he was the only one that had access to the back door and had equipment that could be used to kill"
"He's a limp old man that doesn't talk too much. Do you think he could be capable of mutilating or whatever happened up there on his own?"
"You never know what kind of monsters this world can create, we don't know for sure…"
The people were doubtful and lost in thought then and couldn't sleep for fear of the murder not being the gardener. Frank was questioned in Great Hangleton the next week or so and after a thorough investigation of the tools and the events that transpired the police liberated him when all evidence they had couldn't single him out.
Everyone was perplexed, confused, terrified.
No one could understand how 4 or 5 people were killed and their bodies were in pieces around a room, and no one, not even the police could gather evidence enough to know who was responsible. People had kept a watchful eye over their home ever since and had never wandered alone at night or anywhere really without having someone with them.
Frank was also questioned by the few people who were brave enough to ask him the next time they saw him in town. The only things he said were that it wasn't him as he was sleeping when it happened and the only thing that seemed out of place was a young man that had come some days earlier.
Some believed him, others didn't but all kept a watch over anything that seemed out of place in town and over Frank. Everyone who could manage it also moved away from Riddle Manor as far as they could. And so ever since then, the story had been passed from father to son, people were still wary of the mansion in the hill or the old gardener who still lived up there and were often left with opened eyes staring at the ceiling on their bed on nights like these cold, rainy and with a dark foreboding sense that filled every person, just like the story of what happened to the Riddle Family and with the great question of what was the old gardener that still lived up in the hill doing at this moment.
It was the pain that woke him up. The feeling of intense sharp pain from his leg made him stand up and limp through the room, stumble down the stairs to get to the kitchen so he could swallow his pills and drink the tea he had prepared earlier from his kettle. The extreme cold that was ever-present a few weeks ago wasn't helping his very stiff leg and it felt worse around the manor during his work shift.
A job that was as tedious, boring, and lonelier as he could ever find that he led every day as a gardener.
He had believed he wouldn't find a job that would help him or have what he was looking for, as it was he was lucky he found just the place in an old manor set on a cliff that belonged on the Shropshire hills.
It was only around an hour from the town and so it gave him peace from the noise and wasn't very far off so he didn't need to walk too much. So he accepted it.
He barely saw the family who we worked for and when he did it left him with a bitter taste due to their attitude even towards each other, but he couldn't complain as he lived a decent life and had a decent payment.
That all changed the day they were murdered, he wasn't sure what happened only that before he knew it he was arrested and taken down for questioning. After many explanations and lots of questions from everyone at the police station in both little and Great Hangleton and the townspeople as well he was finally released and sent back. He kept working on the plants around the manor despite everything and he ignored all the things people spoke about him but one thing he couldn't ignore was the images and dreams he kept having every night.
Not of the war but the bodies. The gruesome way they had been killed, the stench of pure death and flesh defiled that filled the manor. It should have been heard when they died, there was no way anyone wouldn't have made a single scream and he should have been alerted but he had heard nothing and seen nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
Not a sign, or a sound, or anything out of order or strange in the days that happened.
It was as if something dark and sinister had been there.
It was a discomforting thought.
A terrible feeling to have every single moment of every night and day he kept living and working in this forsaken forgotten manor.
He would have left ages ago if it wasn't for the fact that he didn't have anywhere to go and that every day his movements and his hearing were becoming worse and worse, and it was on nights like this where the rain fell hard, where any human presence nearby wasn't felt at all, that he felt true fear.
A sensation of hopelessness.
Of never being able to feel happy again.
Of relieving those painful memories of having to drag himself through the mud while his army brothers were being killed in the war. Killed in front of him and him being powerless to do so.
And memories of the young dark-haired man.
He couldn't explain how or why, at the time he just thought it was a normal kid that was visiting the family, or that was a relative or something. He had the appearance but the one thing that remained with him was how dark a presence he felt.
It just felt wrong.
And ever since that day he wondered if that man was the one who killed his employers, or was it just a coincidence? Or most important of all would he come back one day and kill him too?
He couldn't tell without dread and cold filling his bones and he instead just hoped he would just stay as he was: alone and forgotten in a dreadful part of the world where the only nuisance was the kids who from time to time came in riding their bicycles and throwing stones at the windows to bother him.
And true bother him it did, but neither were the kids nor the people who looked at him suspiciously every day he went into town that terrified him so he just didn't put much attention to it, he preferred to work as much as he could an then sleep just as much, such was the case on this cold day but that wasn't going to stay like that for the rest of the night he felt.
As he settled and watched the kettle begin to vibrate with the heat inside he heard what could be described as a great cracking sound that rippled through the air. Standing as fast as he could he watched carefully from his window to see what caused such a sound to find two men in funny-looking cloaks walking to the manor, which at the moment had a light turned on in one of the upper stairs bedrooms.
Why was someone in the manor?
It didn't make sense, no one, not even him had taken a step inside since the police had investigated the corpses all those years ago, so why would anyone want to be in there especially today?
Or were they already living inside for some time now?
He couldn't tell but what he did know was the feeling of trepidation he felt then, the knowledge that a group of strangers could be just living a couple of meters away from him and he hadn't noticed it at all.
It reminded him of the things that happened before, and so despite the wet rain that was pouring like hell itself from the sky he took his coat and cane and grabbed the keys of the back door before heading outside to follow the two men that had just arrived and find out what was going on.
Stepping outside and following up the muddy path was hard, as the wet terrain didn't help with the shoes he had on and the cane was his true support as he almost slipped in the path up the mansion keeping trail behind the men without alerting them of his presence.
As far as he could see one was a stubby kind of fat man who stumbled a bit walking and his coat looked recently muddied but is not in too bad shape, unlike the other guy who was ragged and filled with holes and colors he feared what they could be.
They walked without stopping at all, the fat man walking with what felt like a limp but still with the same speed of purpose as the other as they entered through the back door of service of the manor. He waited five seconds after they entered before stepping in and just managing to catch them moving up the stairs to the main chambers located in the old family wing of the house.
Creeping up as quickly and silent as he could, he kept himself close to the walls and followed the two figures more closely as they reached the room in the end with the door slightly opened. Keeping himself out of the view as much as he could, he kept himself close to the walls but near the crack so he would be able to see them and hear what they were talking about.
Frank was able to see that besides the two figures that he had been following there other 2 standing there with their heads looking down to the floor. Something that stunned him, but nothing as much as seeing the one that was closest to the armchair. He was wearing some type of weird-looking armor inside his dark ragged cloaks, and in his face, some type of black mask with snake-like features that covered everything in it, the only things visible were his long black hair and the slits in his eyes, which Frank couldn't manage to see.
The others faces were more visible but besides having scars and one of them missing an eye they looked to be men around their forties, and all of them were just standing without moving an inch, looking to the ground except for the chubby man who for some was trembling all the time and he looked to be checking around the corners of the room many times.
Who are these people? Some kind of cult? What is going on here?
A million thoughts were flowing through his tired old mind but they were soon interrupted by a high-pitched but cold voice speaking.
"Ah Wormtail, you're finally back" a cold voice sneered with disgust
"My lord," Said the man who Frank assumed was the one called Wormatil who said it with a slight tremor and shyness
"Stop wasting our time and come here to my side immediately" the voice intoned with impatience and contempt
"Y-yes m-y my lord"
The chubby figure quickly moved to the armchair that was close to the strange masked man, who hadn't even moved he appeared to be barely breathing. Once the man Wormtail was standing beside the chair that was facing the window where the voice came from, he dipped his head in the direction of whoever was behind the chair and waited for his orders.
"Bring me closer to the fire"
He watched as the man looked briefly to the voice and in a moment he immediately scrambled terrified and dragged the chair and brought it as delicately as he could to the fireplace, before resuming his place near the other three men who continued to be with their head dipped looking to the floor in the direction of the chair. After some minutes passed the voice finally spoke as the air got somewhat closer if that was possible and a faint slithering sound began to be heard somewhere close.
"My faithful knights" the cold voice intoned with a slight tone of contentment
He watched as the 3 black cloaked people sank to their knees and answered
"Master" All of them spoke at the same time except the one who kept his mask who only dipped its head respectfully while still not making a single sound.
"My most faithful, we're closer than ever before to achieving my return"
At that comment, all of the knights made a vicious smirk as they stood once again and looked at the voice while the man called Wormtail kept looking between where the voice was and the corners of the room like he was terrified of something that was lurking in the room but Frank couldn't be certain as it was out of his view.
"Our plans are proceeding as we have expected, better even. Thanks to this worthless rat we have managed to get another one of the ministry's employees under our grasp. Soon we will be able to fully implement our plan, and this time my return will be secured."
"That is great news master." The man with scars littered across his face and with white hair spoke. "With the work done by junior and Kol here, we already have more than enough to make sure all in Hogwarts and here will go as we planned"
"Indeed Hraefn, we must make sure that no detail goes missing. I will not have the mistakes and complications we suffered three years ago to repeat themselves."
"Of course master," Hraefn said as he dipped his head in respect
"Master and what of our caged brother and sister?" Asked with an angry voice one of the two men whose face could be seen, his eye was missing and he had furious red hair.
"Soon Kol we'll deal with that, but we're still too early for their release. Any action like that at this moment would be foolish, we must remain cautious and in the dark with our moves"
Kol could be seen to be tense as he clenched his fists in anger but remained silent for a second before speaking.
"Of course master, I just wished to reunite with them we have debts to clear with some filth" Kol exclaimed with great disgust and anger present in his face
Just then the cold voice laughed in a shrill cruel cold tone for some minutes before answering.
"Don't worry old friend, soon you will get your revenge on those blood traitors that made you suffer but that is for later, we must first ensure that everything regarding the parts you and junior have to play is secured, otherwise we would be running in blind and without a force to further our intents"
The two figures nodded while the one mask remained standing where he was, just glancing at the other men while not making a single move. It unnerved Frank more than the other present in the room.
Some minutes of silence ensued where Frank was feeling, even more, fear and confusion of everything they had said until it was broken again by the very still trembling Wormtail man.
"M-my Lord, m-may I ask how long we are going to stay here?"
"A week at least, maybe longer Wormtail, the journey has tired me greatly. This form… is pathetic and useless for doing anything. Fortunately, it does us an unexpected boon for what is to come, as for now, we have to wait until the world cup finishes"
"The - the Quidditch World Cup, My Lord?" Said Wormtail.
Quidditch? Hogwarts? What the hell was that? Frank couldn't believe what he was hearing as he tried to clean his ears with his fingers thinking he misheard
"Forgive me, but - I do not understand - why should we wait until the World Cup is over?"
The others in the room immediately glared at the man, while the voice intoned with anger a second later
"Because you foolish rat if we do something that attracts attention right now our plans will suffer greatly, and that will happen especially since at this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world. Every fool from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities. They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice anything."
Muggles? Magic? What the hell were these people? Frank was becoming more unhinged with everything he was hearing and he did feel the cold in his body getting worse than ever, something very wrong was in this room.
"What we're going to do is wait Wormtail, see how things are faring. The other knights I have assigned will be present there still doing their job"
At that moment the black-masked man gave a slight nod, while Wormtail eyed him warily.
"I see my lord. So you're still determined, your lordship?" Wormtail asked quietly
"Of course I determined rat, what do you think junior is doing? wasting his time and mine, instead of being here with my other knights or doing something else for our cause?" the cold voice spoke with menace in his tone
The men present in ragged cloaks nodded and looked at Wormtail with menace while the masked one just took a step closer and held his right hand near his back while his left was clenched in a fist.
"O-of c-course not my lord, I would n-never think that" Wormtail stammered as he sank into his knees in front of the chair
"Get up your miserable rat, we have no time to waste with your pitiful doubts"
"Of course not my lord is j-just... I was wondering if we could d-do it without the boy"
A silence imbued the room for a couple of seconds as the so-called knights sneered towards Wormtail.
"Without the boy?" The voice intoned with a coldness that resembled the room
"I don't say out of pity or mercy for the boy m-my lord, it's just easier to get another wizard and be done with it," Wormtail said with as much speed and disdain as he could muster.
The room fell quiet again, as the minutes passed by and the knights just remained standing looking at the armchair, Wormtail just lowered his head while waiting for the voice to answer.
"No. No, we cannot Wormtail. I have my reasons for using the boy"
Wormtail immediately looked confused and wary.
"But my lord…"
"Nothing will prevent my plan from succeeding and I have already explained to you how things will work"
"But we could still get.."
"NO! and that's it Wormtail unless you're volunteering to get another way that can bring me what I need and do so in less than a year"
The silence was total as Wormtail just remained standing and didn't say anything
"Just as I thought, as we don't have any other options right now we follow the plan understood?"
"Y-yes my lord, my devotion to you is unparalleled" Wormtail spoke rapidly
"Your devotion is out of cowardice and were it not that my knights have their missions and that Ushtar here can't tend to my needs you would either be in the gutter or in some low wretched place where you belong" the cold voice intoned with disgust while the room seemed to have gotten darker and colder
"B-but I found you and helped bring you back to England m-my lord," Wormtail said in a frightened voice
"That is true, some semblance of brilliance that I never thought to see near something like you" the cold voice sounded amused
"But don't you forget it rat, you are not essential to my plans and your usefulness right now is just as when you found me: just coincidental with my needs. I have been planning my return for thirteen years and even longer if you take my knights into account.
"O-of course my lord. I would never doubt that I'm most grateful for your mercy" Wormtail intoned dejected and in terror
Frank was gripping tightly the cane that was holding his stiff leg, he couldn't believe the madness of people that were inside, the cult that was inside more alike as they were talking nonsense about magic and killing people, especially that Harry Potter kid. At that moment as he felt a cold sweat pass down his back he knew what he had to do. Get as fast as possible out of the place and warn the police, even this kid if he could have the people that were planning to kill him.
The world has gone crazy
Just as he was about to head downstairs to exit quickly he stopped paralyzed with fear as he felt a slithering presence passed near him, and as he turned in the direction of the sound he was filled with utter terror.
Staring at him was a giant snake of at least twelve feet long with its undulating body curving a track through the dusty floor. Transfixed and without any idea of what to do, Frank just stared at the snake as it watched him intently, seconds passed in which Frank's cane trembled with fear until the big snake hissed and to his great relief slithered away towards the room of the psychopath cult.
Thinking he was clear he started to turn around but as he walked slowly down the corridor as to not attract attention, he continued listening to see if they were still distracted talking.
"Wait I think Nagini coming, there's something odd" the cold voice intoned with curiosity as the moments passed and the snake was fully inside the room
What Frank next heard made him tremble even more as what he heard could only be described as a cold hard hissing and spitting sound coming from the room. He tried to move faster but it seemed as if his body was becoming stiffer by the minute and the cold was getting worse. After some excruciating minutes of walking slowly as to not cause any sound, the voice spoke again and this time it made Frank's heart seem to pour out of its ribcage.
"Well ain't that interesting news Hraefn"
"News, my master?"
"Yes, according to Nagini there's a muggle just outside in the corridor that has been listening to every word we say"
Before Frank could react or do anything else the door swung open and the men inside were looking at him with a mixture of surprise and hate. The man that had the mask still was leaning forward as if he was excited about something.
"Well don't just stand there looking, where are your manners? Ushtar! bring him in" the cold voice ordered with some amusement in his tone
Ushtar stepped forward and extended his arm and opened his hand in his direction, at that moment Frank felt himself fly rapidly towards the room. It felt as what could only be described as a tornado or an incredible force wind as it grabbed him and made him crash with the walls. After he hit the ground he felt someone standing on his hand with force until he felt it break alongside his cane, making him scream as hard as he ever did in his life.
"That's enough Ushtar, otherwise he won't talk" the cold voice intoned as the madman that had just broken his hand and dragged him who knows how into the room stepped back.
Groaning with one arm on his shoulder and the other in excruciating burning pain, he felt his leg had worsened as well even more as it was throbbing like hell, he raised his head and nothing could have made him more terrified as he felt he had soiled himself.
On the corners of the room were what could only be described as a dark wraith-like creature with long white hands floating in the glacial room that seemed to be under sub-zero temperatures to Frank as he kept looking at them in all four corners. There were spiders everywhere in the ceiling and the only source of light that could be found inside, was the brazier which light was beginning to dim as the creatures began to move forward.
"STAY where you are, I plan to enjoy this" The cold voice intoned as the creatures stopped and remained where they were as they continued looking his way.
"You heard everything, muggle?" The cold voice intoned with great contempt in his voice
"What did you call me?" Frank intoned with as much bravery and strength as he could, while his hand throbbed and hurt very badly as he stood with difficulty and look to the chair where the voice came from
"Muggle. It's the way we call you insects that have no magic. The ones that aren't wizards"
"Wizards?! You're out of your mind, you deranged killers. All I know is that what I heard tonight will be of great interest to the police." Frank said loud as he watched all the psychopaths that were in the room, even the demon-like creatures of the corners.
"And I'll tell you another thing my wife knows I'm up here so she will be looking for me if I don't come back down.."
"You don't have a wife." The cold voice intoned "Nobody knows you are up here. Don't lie to Lord Voldemort, he always knows what you're thinking"
"A lord? more like a monster!" Frank wailed as he clutched his disfigured hand
"That's right, muggle! I am a monster, the worse there is." The cold voice intoned with a proud and sadistic tone
"If you were even man enough you turn around and face me you sadistic monster"
"Oh but I'm not a man, I am much more than that."
"Master let me rid you of the presence of this filth" The man that was called Kol or whatever his name was intoned.
"No, I have a better idea. Wormtail, turn my chair around" The cold voiced ordered with anger
The man whimpered as he trembled with what the voice had ordered him.
"YOU HEARD ME WORMTAIL" The cold voice shouted.
The man immediately scrambled and with a screwed-up face did as was told. The snake was hissing at the foot of the chair as it turned around. And when the chair did indeed face Frank, he finally got to see what was sitting in it and was speaking this whole time.
At an instant he let himself fall to his knees as he let a horrifying ear-splitting scream at what he was seeing, something that prevented him to hear the hissing and spitting the thing in the chair made as the snake finally jumped towards Frank and tangled itself in his body while cleaving its fangs in his neck, and as he continued screaming Frank felt his head starting to be pulled ferociously until it was pulled from his body with a great crack and his corpse fell to the floor.
At that moment almost two hundred miles away, the boy that was called Harry Potter woke with a start.
And that's it. The first chapter is all and done. I really hope you liked it.
Ideally, updates will be between 1 to 2 weeks, depending on my schedule as college it's getting harder every day and I don't want to force the way I write.