"Falling Into Darkness"
Chapter Two: Introduction to Heritage
Tom waited on the front step of the orphanage at a quarter to three for whoever it was Hogwarts was sending to meet with him. Hogwarts, it had seemed such a funny name at first, but as his ticket for escaping the orphanage it had acquired a great deal of respect in his mind. He was willing to overlook a silly choice of name if it proved to be the magic school the serpent and the letter claimed it to be.
At precisely three o'clock a woman appeared in front of him. She had not been there before and Tom could not understand where she came from. It was as if the ground simply spat her out.
She was tall and slender, probably somewhere in her early to mid thirties, with flawless coffee coloured skin and soot black hair pulled into a neat chignon. She was dressed quite outlandishly to Tom's eye in forest green robes and a hat that appeared very much like his image of a witch's hat except that it was deep green to match her robes and had a much smaller brim. It amazed him that people brushed by her without pausing to gape at her attire.
"Mr. Riddle, I presume. I am Professor Mulciber, I'll be helping you purchase your school supplies." In spite of her fantastic garb, she had a very no nonsense air about her.
"Thank you, ma'am." Tom said awkwardly, trying not to gawk. "May I ask what it is you teach?"
"Certainly, Mr. Riddle," Mulciber said with a slight nod. "I teach Defence Against the Dark Arts and am the Head of House Slytherin." She appeared to be unfazed by the complete lack of comprehension on Tom's face.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Tom echoed after he tried to digest this information and failed. "What is that?"
"How to defend yourself against magical creatures and spells."
"And what is House Slytherin?"
"I believe we ought to be on our way." After she indicated that he should follow her, and as they walked down the street she answered his question. "Hogwarts has four school houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. All students are sorted into one of the houses when they arrive at the school."
"Where are we going?" Tom asked as she led him into a part of London he had never before visited. Of course, to be fair, he had never been to a great many parts of the city.
"Diagon Alley." She said. After many twists and turns they ended up at a grubby little pub called The Leaky Caldron. Tom supposed it was a wizard's pub since everyone inside was dressed similarly to Professor Mulciber. Tom had to step aside to allow a tiny wizard with a beard longer than he was tall dressed in violet silk robes to pass by.
"Hello Isis." The bartender said pleasantly as he dried the inside of a mug with a bright yellow towel. Had he not been wearing a robe, he would have blended perfectly into any other pub. He leaned over the counter to get a good look at Tom. "That boy with you?"
Mulciber inclined her head gently. "Yes. I'm taking Mr. Riddle to do his school shopping."
"Hmm…doesn't Ogg usually deal with that?" The man asked, then his eyes widened. "Riddle? Melissandre's boy?"
Mulciber smiled exposing even, white teeth. "Indeed. We had best be going."
Mulciber led him to outside to a plain brick wall, pulled out a wooden wand, and tapped several of the bricks in sequence. A minute later they were walking down a street lined with shops and filled with even more witches and wizards.
"Gringott's first." She said. "Gringott's is the wizarding bank. It is run by goblins. You will learn about them in your History of Magic class. Professor Binns will be your instructor."
"Wizard's have banks?" Tom could not help but ask.
"Just Gringotts."
Gringotts was a white building that towered over all the others. Tom openly stared at the goblins and Mulciber had to practically drag him along. Once they were inside, one of the goblin looked up at them from the counter as they approached.
"We are here to see Mr. Riddle's vault." Mulciber produced a tiny gold key and a piece of rolled parchment from a pocket of her robes and handed them to the goblin.
The goblin scrutinized the paper and the key closely. "Everything is in order. Grushnik will take you to the vault." He gestured to a smaller goblin who escorted them to a cart that reminded Tom of something in a picture he had once seen of a Welsh coal mine.
"I advise you to hold on." Professor Mulciber whispered as they climbed into the cart.
Tom noted that she griped the handhold tightly and he did the same. He was thankful for her warning when the cart began to move. If he had not been holding on so tightly, he probably would have been thrown out of the cart. He tried to watch where they were going, but it made him dizzy so he closed his eyes until he felt the cart lurched to a stop.
Grushnik scrambled out of the cart and unlocked a small door set into the stone wall. Greyish green smoke obscured whatever was behind the door for a few seconds, but when it cleared, Tom saw a small pile of coins, mostly silver but with an occasional glint of gold, and a dusty wooden box banded with metal around the corners. Mulciber exited the cart and picked up the box. She stared at it sadly for a moment then turned back to face Tom.
"Your mother left this for you." Mulciber explained passing Tom the box and helping him out of the cart. She directed him to put some of the coins in a small red leather pouch. "If you are careful this should be just enough to take care of your schooling expenses."
"I've never see coins like these before." Tom noted as he inspected one of the silver coins.
"The gold are called Galleons, the silver are Sickles. There are seventeen Sickles to a Galleon. The bronze ones are Knuts. Its twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle." Mulciber explained.
After the climbed back into the cart and returned to the lobby of Gringott's, Tom turned to Mulciber. "My mother left this for me?" Tom raised the box to rub at one of the corners. Black tarnish came off onto his fingers.
Mulciber paused as though sorting out what to tell him and what to leave unsaid. "I was not aware if you knew about her. Yes, she left this for you."
"She was a witch? And my father…?"
"You mother was a witch, from one of the most respected of wizarding families. Your father was a Muggle - a non magical person." Mulciber concluded her mention of Tom's father in a tone that Tom knew meant she would not elaborate further.
"What was her name?"
"Melissandre, Melissandre Serthylin. We really had best hurry, its almost four and we still don't have your books, robes, cauldron, wand, and other supplies."
A frantic hour and a half later, Tom was laden down with purchases and struggling to follow Mulciber to their final stop.
"Just you wand left." Then she took another of the packages from him. "Don't worry, it won't weigh much."
Tom smiled weakly as they entered a dusty shop that reminded him more of a museum than a place of business. Mulciber set down the bundles she had been carrying and sat down in the shop's single spindly chair.
"Good evening." Came a quiet voice that somehow managed to fill every corner of the shop. Tom turned to see a sandy haired man standing just behind him. His eyes reminded Tom of a cat and he wondered if they saw more than they should. "I thought I would be seeing you here, Mr. Riddle. You have your mother's colouring. It seems like only yesterday she was in my shop herself buying her first wand for school. Nine and three quarter inches long, maple, quite trustworthy. An excellent wand for transfiguration. And you, Isis Mulciber! How lovely to see you again. Birch, ten and a half inches, rather swishy."
Mulciber pulled out her wand for Ollivander's inspection. "Good evening, Mr. Ollivander. Yes. I still have it. Its never failed me."
Ollivander peered at Mulciber's wand. "Appears in excellent condition. You maintain it well. Not all take such care." He faced Tom again with his eerie eyes. "I remember every wand I've ever sold. Each is unique as is the wizard who uses it. Let us see about your wand now, Mr. Riddle. Which is your wand arm?"
Tom held out his right hand which Ollivander measured with a tape measure that had silver markings. Then he measured around Tom's head, his shoulders and knees. Finally after Tom was left to wonder if he was being measured for a wand or another set of robes, Ollivander handed him a wand.
"Try this, oak and unicorn hair. Twelve inches. Very snappy. Just give it a wave."
Tom waved the wand, but nothing happened and Ollivander pulled it away and replaced it with another. It appeared to be made of the same wood as his mother's box.
"Mahogany and dragon heartstring. Eight inches. Quite firm."
Still nothing happened. Ollivander appeared to become more excited.
"Hickory and phoenix feather, thirteen inches. Quite swishy."
Tom was beginning to wonder if they were going to run out of wands when Ollivander disappeared into a back room and returned with a single wand.
"I just completed this one yesterday. Yew and Phoenix feather, thirteen and a half inches. Quite a powerful wand. Try it."
Tom took the wand and waved it through the air. His fingers felt warm and green sparkles emerged from the end of the wand. Mulciber, who had begun to look rather tired, clapped.
Tom paid four Galleons for his new wand. It was only with Mulciber's help that he was able to move everything including the sturdy black trunk they bought second hand to store and transport his school things.
Mulciber walked him back to the orphanage where she gave him confusing directions about "walking between the barrier" at King's Cross Station and handed him a train ticket. After succeeding in dragging his trunk up to his dormitory - where he carefully locked and stored it under his bed as Tom did not trust the other children. The trunk - and the box from his mother - remained in his mind all day.
He waited until after one before heading to the boy's toilet to examine his mother's box in private. It was carved from a solid piece of aged mahogany. As Tom brushed away the dust with his fingers, he noticed a design picked out in a lighter, silvery wood he could not name. It looked like the shield on his Hogwarts letter except that it only featured a snake. Tom carefully opened the box to find a handful of pictures whose subjects moved. After Gringotts and the goblins, Tom had thought nothing could startle him. He was wrong.
Under the pictures was a neatly folded letter. The handwriting was all loops and swirls and made him sick with longing for the mother he never had a chance to know. The old hatred of his father re-ignited in his heart.
He took a deep breathe and slid along the tiled wall to the floor. He read the letter slowly, determined to savour it.
My dear child,
I know Divination is seldom precise, but my every cup of tea concludes with death omens and even the Muggle physicians predictions are grim. They say the birth will be difficult and I know I will not survive it. Do not blame yourself for my death, it was beyond your control. I wanted to me your mother more than anything and I regret only not being able to see you grow into a man.
How much or little you know of our family, I cannot say and I ask your pardon if what I next write is already known to you. My family - our family - is an ancient one that descends from Salazar Slytherin himself, though only we are aware of that fact. There are rumours about Slytherin's descendant's and it is best to keep the knowledge of our ancestry secret.
As for your father, he was a Muggle. When he discovered I was a witch, he was horrified and turned his back on me. I was pregnant at the time and he knew of my condition.
I hope you will remember me kindly.
Your Mother,
Melissandre Serthylin Riddle.
Tom closed the letter and gently tucked it back into his box. By the time it came for him to board the Hogwart's Express, he had it memorized.