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.

***this chapter has some excerpts included from the HBP. I don't own them, they belong to JK Rowling. :)

Chapter 2 revised as of 4/6/2020, I had started to write this awhile ago, my writing style has since imporved so I wanted that to reflect a bit more in my work, hope you enjoy!

"Travel papers please, and open your luggage for inspection." Said a short stout man dressed in uniform at the bottom of the boarding plank.

Tom stepped off the steel plank and came to a stop at the base of the platform, forcing himself to smile at the muggle in front of him. He of course did not have travel papers, nor did he have any intention of letting the filthy muggle rummage through his belongings. However, he did find that false pleasantries worked wonders on those who were either not extremely intelligent or astute. To him all muggles fell into this category.

"Of course sir." Tom said in a calm voice as he laid the small weathered suitcase out on the small table before him for the man to inspect. "Wonderful morning isn't it?

The man grumbled a few rude words under his breath and grabbed the suitcase impatiently as he tried to pry open the strange looking lock on the front. Tom smiled as he watched the muggle fumble with the lock, cursing and swearing under his breath. The man started to lose his patience as he roughly brought the suitcase down loudly onto the table, his fingers trying to pry the gold fastenings around the intricate lock apart. Unbeknownst to him, his efforts were in vain as it was protected by a series of magic and enchantments . No ordinary person would have been able to open the case left to their own crude devices, no matter how hard they tried or what they tried to use to open it.

Tom grinned to himself as he watched the man turn many different shades of red, as his fat little fingers clawed at the case. "Even a wizard with great skill would have a hard time opening that suitcase. But keep trying you filthy muggle, I only need you to be distracted for a little while longer."

"How do you open this case here boy?" said the man, his anger escalating as his last effort to open the lock had failed. He reached into his pocket and grabbed out a small handkerchief, dabbing at his red and flushed face while Tom bent over towards the case.

"I'm so sorry sir, that suitcase has always given me a bit of trouble," Tom said as he quickly glanced around his surroundings, pleased with his luck at the lack of crew members or customs agents in sight. He assumed it was due to the early hour and tasks they were still finishing up from making port.

"If you give the clasps a little wiggle there, it should pop right open…"

With the man effectively distracted, he slowly drew his wand from his coat jacket and muttered a spell so softly at the distracted muggle that no one would be able to hear. A cloud of green smoke poured from the tip of the wand and swirled towards the man's head.

"Confundo. "

His eyes slowly started to glaze over, unfocused and strange, as a dazed look came over his face.

Tom smiled and softly said "Sir, is there anything else you need? You've already checked my papers and my luggage and I'm in quite a hurry."

The customs agent, now under confundus curse, smiled at him with a peculiar and disoriented expression, his eyes looking faraway off into the distance and shook his head, pushing Tom's suitcase back towards him. "No no dear boy. Safe Travels."

Tom nodded, grabbing his suitcase quickly off the small table and started to walk away, a large grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was so deliciously easy to fool and confuse muggles to get what he wanted without them even knowing. He walked slowly down the large dock, the mist and fog slowly starting to disappear as the sun had started to permanently settle in the sky. As he approached the wide concrete steps that led up and into the city he started to hear the repetitive sound of horns, the clammer of people yelling and talking, as they all huddled and raced against each other to get to their destinations on time.

"This city is certainly loud enough…" He thought as he started to climb the thick cemented steps.

As he made his way farther up the steps, the noise and acrid smells hit him like a ton of bricks. Repulsed, he buried his nose under his coat jacket, he had grown unaccustomed to the smell of a city after a week of being out on the ocean, with nothing but salt and wind lapping at his face. It was overwhelming and offensive and he was sure that London did not smell nearly as bad as New York did.

"So this is the famed New York City...how..charming." He sneered to himself as he stepped onto a curb and stared upwards at the towering buildings muddled together in a giant mass before him. To him, it resembled a large forest, only instead of trees, fauna and leaves, it was made up of steel, concrete and glass.

New York was very different from what he had been accustomed to, London was large and loud, but the city was old, made up of buildings that held a long history, hundreds of years of life, with the occasional cluster of newer buildings popping up here and there, looking out of place amongst their older counterparts. New York City was still a child in its infancy, compared with the likes of London and it certainly behaved like one, its noise and caterwauling offensive to his ears. He had known that it would be different than what he was used to, but he had not prepared for this. He had never seen something as large and as immense as the city that lay before him, a true testament to the quick advancements of muggle architecture and greed.

Tom pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket as he started walking down the street, carefully unfolding it to reveal what had been written on the small scrap of paper. In a perfect and tidy handwriting was scribbled an address:

The Blind Pig
124 Macdougall St, New York City, New York

He folded the parchment neatly and placed it back into his pocket, as he quickly searched around his feet for something ordinary and unremarkable, something that he could charm to direct him to his destination, without attracting any unwanted attention, although judging by his surroundings he suspected no one would care or notice anyway.

It didn't take long, the city was extremely polluted, the streets lined and filled with garbage and rubbish, blowing frequently through the wind and landing wherever it fell. A rogue sheet of newspaper flew through the wind past Tom and he caught it with one hand.

"This will do." He thought as he once again let the tip of his wand peek through his jacket and muttered a locating spell under his breath. Tucking the wand back up his sleeve, he felt the paper start to tug and pull itself out of his hands to begin leading him towards his destination.

Tom finally released the newspaper and it jolted into the wind, flipping and turning about, constantly moving forward leading him further and further into the city. As he followed the scrap of paper, he recalled how he had come to know the name of the bar.

It had been a late night at Hogwarts, long after the welcoming feast following the summer of his seventh and final year. He had opened up a new book he had been studying, relaxed and contemplative as he sat on a thick and lush looking leather chair in the Slytherin common room. His studies were interrupted as he heard Lestrange, Malfoy and a few others loudy brag endlessly about their summer holidays. He grasped his book tightly as he felt his stomach burn with envy. Lestrange continued to brag about his travels abroad with his family to New York and folded his book into his lap, alert and listening eagerly, when Lestrange had finally mentioned something of interest.

"As you all know my father has powerful connections in New York and he finally took me along with him to conduct one of his business meetings. I think he finally realized how important it was for me to learn the family business, after all after once I'm done wasting my time here in this ridiculous place.."

He gestured to his surroundings in the Slytherin common room, "It'll be my responsibility to keep the family business going."

"So where did he take you?" He heard Malfoy asking eagerly.

"This notorious bar in New York City called The Blind Pig. Father had a whole bunch of illegal dark artifacts to sell and after his promotion at this ministry, he thought it would be best if he got rid a few things...wouldn't look good if he kept them around the house you know? People are always nosing about everyone's business at work…"

Tom listened intently as Lestrange continued. "The deal took a lot to work out, the owners a dirty little goblin and kept offering father way too little, but we got him to agree eventually, you know how goblins are, they can't stand to let something worth money out of their sight."

As Lestrange continued, Tom quickly scribbled the name of the bar on a small page of the book and ripped it out, folding it neatly and placing it into his pocket.

After being denied the Defense Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts for his inexperience, it was this exact conversation that inspired him to apply to Borgin & Burkes, for if he wanted to further explore his possibilities and experimentation with the dark arts, how better to get acquainted with witches and wizards that held the same penchant and ideas as he?

He would travel for the small shop in Knockturn Alley, using his skills to charm and beguile others out of their possessions, while masquerading as a poor and humble boy with ambition, working to make ends meet. He would acquire as much knowledge as he could, making many acquaintances with those who held power and resources to further his agenda.

And it had worked.

It had taken no time whatsoever to convince Mr. Burke that he would make a valuable asset to the shop, he excelled at persuading various clients into parting with not only their precious heirlooms, but also coerced them to hand over powerful and cursed items to him without any hesitation at all.

The work itself Tom knew was below him, but in time it had introduced him to many dominant and influential witches and wizards who shared in his pure-blood beliefs, allowing him to forge powerful alliances to further his ideals should he need them. He also knew that one day he would stumble across something marvelous, something of extraordinary value and his life would change.

Ten years later his work finally paid off. He remembered that fateful day, when that grotesque whale of a woman Hepzibah Smith, revealed to him she had two artifacts claiming to have belonged to two of the four Hogwarts founders, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin.

At first Tom had been skeptical. Many people claimed to have owned items belonging to the founders of Hogwarts, none of them were genuine, all fakes, all made up stories in order to try to bamboozle money out of others less intelligent.

But these were as real as the diadem he had found in the forests of Albania and he would not stop until he possessed them.

Tom smirked as he recalled the events that transpired that day, a day that had helped place him closer to his goal of immortality.

Tom straightened his suit jacket and pushed the stray lock of jet black hair that was always falling into his eyes as he knocked on the door of Hepzibah Smith's palatial estate. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers, a gift for the toad of the woman Caractacus Burke insisted he continue to visit, one of their most loyal clients. Unfortunately for him, the insufferable woman now refused to meet with either Mr. Borgin or Mr. Burke and instead insisted on doing all her business dealings with Tom, who she had grown fond of.

He despised every visit, but put on a smile and a grin every time he was forced there by his employers. None of the woman's items were particularly interesting, none steeped in the magical history he so craved to collect, so many trips were spent stuck in her drawing room, pretending to care about what useless piece of ancient jewelry or goblin armour she was trying to sell, while drinking tea and forcing himself to eat stale chocolates she pushed upon him. In addition, to make matters worse, Tom knew she fancied him more than a woman of her age should and he found it absolutely repulsive. He had never found neither a man nor woman to peak his romantic interest, let alone a woman as old and as repugnant as she, but he continued to grin and bear it and flatter her in hopes one day she would either cease to exist or actually have something useful to sell him.

The door opened and her small house elf answered the door.

"Good Morning Mr. Riddle!" squeaked the small elderly house elf as she continued "Mrs. Hepzibah has been awaiting your arrival quite anxiously! Follow me!"

As the elf turned to shut the door behind him, Tom's smile faltered slightly, not looking forward to spending any time with the lady of the house at all.

Hokey led him straight to the drawing room he was already so familiar with and he entered to find Hepzibah sitting exactly where she always did. On a large overstuffed floral chaise lounge, loudly slurping her tea, like a hippo in the serengeti. He forced himself to go over and kiss her fat little hand, trying to keep the bile down as it started to rise in his throat.

"I brought you flowers," he said quietly, as he gave her the bouquet he had brought.

"You naughty little boy, you shouldn't have!" squealed old Hepzibah. "You do spoil this old lady, Tom….Sit down, sit down…"

He remembered the small elf bringing in trays of cakes, while Hepzibah tried to force them down his throat, remarking on how thin and pale he appeared. He took a bite of a cake to be polite and set it down on the table carefully, trying to swallow what tasted like sawdust, feeling it scratch his throat on the way down. Tom listened to her remark once more on his looks and how tired he seemed as he tried to dismiss her. He was here to make another offer on the goblin armor and had tried to start business as soon as possible so he could leave quickly.

"Mr. Burke would like to make an improved offer for the goblin-made armour, five hundred galleons he feels is more than a fair-"

"Now, now, not so fast, or I'll think you're here only for my trinkets!" pouted Hepzibah

Tom was starting to lose his patience.

"I am ordered here because of them." He said quietly "I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told. Mr. Burke wishes me to inquire-"

"Oh Mr. Burke, phooey!" said Hepzibah waving a little hand. "I've got something to show you that I've never shown Mr. Burke. Can you keep a secret Tom? Will you promise you won't tell Mr. Burke I've got it? He'd never let me rest if he knew I'd shown it to you, and I'm not selling, not to Burke, not to anyone! But you Tom, you'll appreciate it for it's history, not how many galleons you can get for it."

Toms head perked up and he straightened his back. His curiosity was slightly peaked. The woman in front of him had never once, as long as he had known her, wasted an opportunity to brag and boast about the possessions she owned. She always sat in front of him, wearing her sickeningly large pink colored robes, with skin that hung off her frame like wrinkled parchment, her red wig consistently teetering off her head as she laughed and bellowed, her multiple chins dangling and jiggling about, as she paraded her belongings in front of him, ranting and raving about the cost and price of everything. If she had never shown anyone what she was about to show him, then it must be valuable. But he also musn't get his hopes up.

"I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me," said Tom quietly

She let out a girlish giggle and bade her house elf to go and fetch not only the treasure she boasted about, but another as well. Tom watched as the elf carried two leather boxes into the room and brought them over to her.

"Now," said Hepzibah happily, taking the boxes from the elf and laying them in her lap, and was preparing to open the topmost one. "I'll think you'll like this Tom...Oh if my family knew I was showing you...They can't wait to get their hands on this!"

As she opened the box, Tom saw the handles of the small gleaming golden cup and he stretched out his hand to lift it out of its soft wrappings. His greedy eyes looked over the chalice as he traced the outline of a badger on the front with his finger.

"A badger…" he murmured "Then this was…."

"Helga Hufflepuff's, as you well know, you clever boy!" said Hepzibah, leaning forward and pinching his cheeks. "Didn't I tell you I was distantly descended? This has been handed down in the family for years and years. Lovely, isn't it? And all sorts of powers it's supposed to possess too, but I haven't tested them thoroughly, I just keep it nice and safe in here…"

She grabbed the cup out of his hand and placed it gently back into the box, missing the dark look on Tom's face.

She turned around as she handed the box back to her elf and spoke again. "I think you'll like this one more Tom, lean in a little dear by so you can see….Of course Burke knows I've got this one, I bought it from him, and I daresay he'd love to get it back when I'm gone…"

She opened the latch in front of the box and lifted the lid to reveal a heavy golden locket.

Tom reached out, drawn to the locket, and held it up in his hands.

"Slytherins mark." he said quietly.

"That's right!" said Hepzibah delighted, apparently, at the sight of Tom gazing at her locket, transfixed. " I had to pay an arm and a leg for it, but I couldn't let it pass, not a real treasure like that, had to have it for my collection. Burke bought it, apparently form a ragged- looking woman who seemed to have stolen it, but had no idea of it's true value , I daresay Burke paid her a pittance but there you are….Pretty isn't it? And again, all kinds of powers attributed to it, though I just keep it nice and safe…"

At the mere mention of his mother and the realization that he had been robbed of his only family heirloom, Toms insides started to roil and fester with anger.

She reached out and grabbed the locket from Tom, putting it safely back in the velvet cushioned box it came from.

Tom stared at the box intently as she closed the lid and looked over at him curiously, narrowing her eyes as if she had seen something strange.

"Are you alright dear?"

Tom broke his gaze on the box quickly and tried to recollect himself, having been lost in his thoughts. What luck he had come today! He had already found Ravenclaw's lost diadem and here before him were two more artifacts that had belonged to Hogwarts founding owners, what better vessels to preserve his soul in but these? One of them was his birthright, it had been robbed from him and he would find a way to retrieve it, the cup he cared less about but he would take it anyway as it would fit quite nicely into his collection.

"Oh yes," said Tom quietly, "Yes, I'm very well…"

Tom remembered how he had paced back and forth many times that night long ago, trying to conceive the perfect plan in order for him to obtain what should have rightfully been his. He would take everything and no one would ever suspect or think to blame the lowly and humble assistant from Borgin and Burkes. He raked his brain trying to think of a way into the house without being noticed or seen by either Hepzibah or her squeaky waif of an elf, when a clever idea finally sprang to mind.

"The imperious curse…"

He would perform the curse on the elf and force her to poison Hepzibah, mixing it in with nighttime tea and after she had retrieved the items for him, he would wipe her memory clean, inserting false ones into place. It was perfect. All the cards would fall right into place.

Two days later, Hepzibah Smith was found dead in her home, the result of being poisoned by her house elf who had confessed,and before he had stolen away in the middle of the night, Tom had created a new horcrux for himself using her murder.

He was one step closer to attaining his goal of immortality.

Tom was quickly ripped from his thoughts as a taxi honked loudly at him, he had been so immersed in his memories that he had completely ignored the walk signal. As the driver slammed on his brakes, he opened his window, screaming profanities in his direction.

"Filthy muggle…" Tom thought and continued to walk across the street, refusing to engage the angry muggle. He once again flicked his wand quickly behind his back towards the taxi and muttered a spell under his breath.

A loud popping sound erupted from behind him, as the taxi wheels started to blow out from under the car. The driver ran out from inside his taxi as he surveyed the damage, confused and angry, cursing at the curb, which he blamed for the blow out.

Tom smiled as he reached the other side of the street. "Not exactly what I wanted to do, but that will suffice for the time being." He smiled knowing that he had at least ruined the rest of the man's day.

The walk was proving to be longer than he anticipated, it seemed although New York was built on a simple grid system, the crowds of people rushing and crowding through intersections on the street and on the sidewalk made it near impossible to stick to a fast steady pace. He wished he could apparate, but knew that was impossible as he had never been to the bar before.

As Tom tried to hasten his pace, amid the pushing and shoving hoards of people, he started to take in more of his surroundings. Buildings were covered in majestic lights, men were stopped at every corner, smoking cigars and waiting in line to get their shoes shined for the upcoming work day. Theaters had begun to open, setting up their box offices to sell tickets for the upcoming performances later that day, in hopes every seat would be filled. There were newsboys on every corner, yelling out headlines and news, selling papers to those who passed by them. Many people appeared and disappeared underground, running to and fro to catch their trains. Tom felt a rumble beneath his feet as he watched hot steam rise from the sewer grates, signaling the passing of an underground train. New York City was alive, the people, the noise and the sounds acting in unison, like a steady heartbeat in its chest.

He followed the billowing newspaper a few more blocks and started to notice as the crowds of people started to dwindle, the bustle of commuters and businessmen disappearing as the buildings started to grow smaller and less industrial. Cracked sidewalks and the smell of the garbage became more prevalent as he continued his journey, the neighborhoods getting less and less appealing as he made his way further into the belly of the city.

Tom quickly noticed the newspaper abruptly turn right down an old alleyway and hastened his steps so as not to lose sight of it. A familiar feeling crept up his spine, he could feel there was magic hiding somewhere in the area.

"I must be getting closer…It's around here somewhere." He thought to himself

He passed a few homeless muggles conversing amongst themselves by the opening of the alleyway, warming their hands over what resembled a steel trash bin that held a small flickering flame, he watched as they threw old paper and debri into its mouth, keeping their only source of heat coming. They seemed to ignore the alleyway and focus their attention on the rubbish heap, Tom wondered if this meant the alleyway was enchanted and only those with magical abilities could spot it or enter.

As he passed them and entered the alleyway, he looked behind him to make sure no one noticed he had disappeared out of thin air and was relieved to see that the men were still preoccupied with their fire. He stopped as he watched the newspaper float slowly down a brick and concrete staircase towards the side of the alley that led downwards. Standing at the top and staring down to the bottom, he saw a faded painting of what seemed to be a young red headed girl staring at herself in a mirror, the words above the artwork read. "Lips That Charm."

"Curious...." he muttered to himself as he started to softly make his way down the stairs towards the painting which didn't appear to move at all. Placing his foot on the bottom landing, he pulled out the piece of parchment he had kept in his pocket and unfolded it once more.

Tapping on the paper with his wand, he slowly saw the ink start to disappear and reappear with a different message:

Revelio

Tom stuffed the paper back into his pocket and cast the charm, lowering his wand as he noticed the lady start to blink and smile at him, preening and combing her long red hair. She slowly reached with her free hand to pull back part of her illustration on the brick wall to reveal a doorknob. She smiled once more at him as went back to combing her hair and applying her lipstick.

He reached for the handle, eager to rest his feet and begin his journey.

Chapter 2 is finished! Phew.
It took me a bit to finalize where I wanted this chapter to go, this story has taken me a long time to work out the kinks and I'm trying to make things flow together where they would make sense, ALSO with that being said, I'm trying super hard to not make Tom Riddle seem ooc, because that is one thing I DIDN'T want to do.

Once again I quoted some text from the book, I DID NOT write that, that belongs to JK Rowling and her fabulous writing, she gets the credit, I did however tweak some things, because I wanted to represent it from Toms POV.

Review if you enjoyed!