Inception: Rise of the Heir
After the murder of Hepzibah Smith, Tom Riddle disappeared for ten long years. He sank deeper into the Dark Arts & pursued knowledge that others could only dream of, consorting with the darkest members of wizarding society. With his eyes set on North America, he has no idea that the magic he so desperately seeks will shape his life & his inevitable future for years to come. TomxOC
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's and my own storyline.
CRACK!
Tom felt the soft ground under his feet as they had apparated into yet another wooded area. As he took a quick glance around, he realized he was still holding Lyra's hand and quickly let go of it as if it were made of poison. He rubbed his hand against the side of his pants, as if the motion would take away his discomfort. Lyra pretended not to notice as she took note of her surroundings.
"Well then, a quick five minute walk through these woods and we will find ourselves right in the heart of Salem." She brushed a leaf off her cloak as she started to walk through the trees and brush towards a small footpath in the distance, Tom followed closely behind her, eager to see the famed witch city for himself.
They were both silent as they made their way up the dirt path, it seem to go on for ages as Tom looked up towards the naked towering trees hanging over the trail. What would normally be a lush sea of green before them was still thawing from the cold of the winter that had just passed and the ground was still scattered with empty brushes and dead leaves. He watched as a small townscape could be made out ahead in the distance through the mouth of the forest. The dirt foot trail they had been walking slowly disappeared as hard stones started to take place of the dirt, forming a pathway underneath them cobbled and worn from old age. Lyra turned around as they approached a small stone wall with iron spikes. In the center of the small wall lay an old iron archway before them, rusted and covered in briars, eerily welcoming them into the towns belly.
"Before we enter Tom, I must warn you to not draw attention to yourself. Salem is old and the heart of our city still lays hidden underneath what No-Maj's have claimed for their own. It is a solemn place and the pain endured centuries ago can still sometimes be felt throughout the city. It is crawling with those who would still hang or burn us at a stake if they could."
"They could try." Tom mused silently as he nodded at Lyra, he was eager to explore the famed witch city.
Lyra started to walk forward and paused again. She turned around to face him fully and her face took on a pained look. "I also feel the need to warn you once more Tom, the air here is dripping with old magic. You will feel things….you will hear things...I ask that you ignore these...abnormalities. Things are not always what they seem here and hearing voices is rarely a sign of anything useful or helpful. Although it's been ages since Salem's tragedy, there are things that lurk in the shadows here that are unnatural...cursed. Our ancestors felt the need to protect themselves and placed certain...measures around the confines of the city to ensure that they would remain safe. Things that are best left forgotten and undisturbed."
Tom studied her face quietly, her concern seemed genuine. The idea that he, all of all people, needed to be warned like an insolent child once more irritated him, but he did not betray his feelings with angry words, he spoke as quietly and softly as he had before. "Voices and feelings hold no interest for me, I'm only here for my research and that alone."
She frowned at him and looked upwards towards the sky as a murder of crows flew out of the city, landing in a tree above them, their cries filling the quiet air of the woods. "What we proclaim we intend to do and what we internally decide to do are two different things Tom."
She looked at him once more with a somber look on her face and turned around quickly as the crows stopped their cries in unison, adding even more tension to the gloomy setting around them. "Come," she beckoned forward with a wave of her hand "Spending more time than necessary in the forests here is an unwise decision."
As Lyra passed under the iron archway covered in thorns and brambles she hastened her pace and clutched her cloak closer to her neck to keep the cold air off her chest. She seemed eager to distance them from the desolate woods they had left behind. Tom adjusted his stride to keep up with her, his eyes expressionless as he glared at her backside, his thoughts racing angrily. His eyes flashed red as he recounted her words to him.
How dare she lecture him like a child, she who was beneath him in so many ways, who spoke about magic as if she knew more than him.
He continued on behind her watching her cape billow against the wind, her long dark hair blowing wildly against the wind. He cursed softly and wished he could act freely. In this moment he would love nothing more than to strike her down, to cause her pain and to eradicate her from his sight. But he could not. He needed her influence and her knowledge to get what he needed, he found him reminding himself of the fact often, when his mind raced with impatience and the longing for solitude.
He let out a inaudible growl and shook his head slightly. If he was to get anywhere near the spells and knowledge he so desired, he was going to have to deal with his unwanted companion. It was this forced company that he realized he found more irritating than anything else. He had assumed earlier it was her power and her condescension that repelled him from her, but he knew that the truth was that he had never had had to depend on anyone in his life. As a child growing up in an orphanage he had learned quickly how cruel and lonely the world was and if he had wanted to survive he had to rely on himself for strength. He remained isolated through most of his teenage and adult years as well, relying on his own wit and talents to push himself along. True, he had needed some minimal help along the way from others he had been able to manipulate and charm, but only because certain tasks were better left for others to do, not because he necessarily needed them. This was different.
Tom tried to distract himself from his frustrated feelings as he looked at the brick houses that perfectly lined the streets, each one more manicured than the last. Muggles laughed and ran along the pavements as they entered shops and pubs smiling and talking wildly with one another. He watched as he saw Lyra up ahead make a quick right onto an upcoming street. Tom looked up at the street name as he turned the corner.
"Essex St…" The name had sounded familiar to him, he remembered reading about something on this particular street in one of his books. As he continued on he recognized why he had remembered the name. As if it had jumped straight off the page from one of his books before him stood a large ominous black house, with dark latticed windows and a black door to match the wooden panels that lay outside the building. A large brick chimney could been seen looming over the back side of the structure. He remembered this house and what he had read about it. It was the only muggle house to exist after the trials in Salem. It's original owner had been a blemish on the wizarding community, a famous scourer, whatever that meant. Tom hadn't quite understood the term when he had read about it briefly. The house was unmistakable and the air surrounding it felt putrid and dense, misery and pain still seemed to linger here centuries later. He stopped walking completely and continued to stare at the house before him.
Lyra, not hearing Toms footsteps behind her turned around to see where he had gone. As she glanced over her shoulder she saw him standing in front of the large black house and stopped as a solemn look replaced the anxious one on her face. She walked slowly up to him, standing to his left; he acknowledged her presence by slightly turning his head towards her as she approached.
"The air feels different here." he softly said as Lyra looked towards the house.
"Yes." She said quietly staring back at the house with him. "When terrible things happen in places where there is a significant amount of magical energy, sometimes it creates an impression in the air, permanently changing the way the atmosphere feels around where the event took place."
"Like an imprint." Tom said softly with expressionless eyes.
Lyra nodded as she broke her gaze off the house and glanced back at Tom. "Exactly like that. Those trials were the most tragic thing to have ever happened to our community. This house belonged to someone who used to walk among us, who betrayed his fellow wizards and sent even even some innocent no-majs to death. All for money and power."
She continued to stare at the house with him, standing in silence, stealing glances at him every so often. She considered the man next to her once more. She had known many men with ambition, that had travelled far and wide to uncover all the secrets the world had to offer and she had seen them all fail. Some had been kind and some cruel but they had all been predictable. She could read them like a book, but Tom, Tom was different. He said very little and showed even less. He was attractive, more attractive than most; dark haired and handsome with features that most women would spend their days dreaming about. But his eyes were different. To most people they would seem deep and intense, but to Lyra, they were emotionless and dead, like a doll's eyes. She had never encountered anyone with such lifeless eyes, they made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she could not forget the man from her dreams and how this man in front of her felt so familiar. Her instincts told her to run and to stop aiding him in what he desired, but her curiosity kept getting the better of her.
"It's the same damned curiosity that put you in your current problem to begin with." She kept repeating to herself in her mind, but as with so many other thoughts, she pushed them away. Her thoughts were interrupted as he spoke.
"I came across a term in a book I didn't quite understand, you see we don't have the same terminology where I come from. I believe the term used was Scourer." Tom said calmly as his gaze trailed from the house to a group of muggles entering the building. "Can you enlighten me on this subject….Lyra?"
Lyra narrowed her eyes as she thought for a moment as if how to approach the question and spoke softly, her voice little more than a whisper to keep the story from prying ears. "The history of scourers is a complicated one Tom….and a long one. You see, when wizards starting coming over to America from their respective countries, most of them were fleeing from something or running away from their respective ministries to avoid jail or prosecution. We had no government...it was a free land. But, of course without a lack of government and lack of a strong wizarding community to bind us together these wizards were easily targeted and large sums of money were placed on their heads. Many mercenaries followed them from across the sea, looking to collect the bounties placed on those outcasts and realized that they could collect those rewards by any means necessary and became brutal and bloody in their methods. There was also plenty of money and power to be made by scourers, especially amongst the no- maj puritan communities who were always looking to cleanse the world of witchcraft and evil. They were given titles, money and power for outing innocent witches and wizards, even no-majs to an extent, to the more naive no-majs communities."
She continued. "Eventually MACUSA was formed and the scourers were forced to pay for their atrocities against our kind. Eventually they were excommunicated from our world and immersed themselves into the no-maj way of life, slowly weeding and plucking out any trace of magic from their bloodlines. But the damage was already done by then. It took a long time for wizards and witches to even want to move to America, our communities still suffer from mistrust and secrecy to this day and that is why we live so far underground to this day. "
Tom continued to look on in disgust as another group of muggles entered the house laughing and talking amongst themselves.
"The no-maj's use it as a museum now." Lyra said with an expressionless tone in her voice watching them enter the old house.
Tom frowned and tilted his head towards her slightly in confusion. "You keep saying no-maj. What is a no-maj?"
"It's a term we use for non magical people here. No -maj. No magic…"
"In England we call them muggles." He sniffed indignantly and felt a strange feeling once again radiating off the grounds of the house. He grimaced as he tried to ignore the sickly waves of despair rolling through his bones. "It feels so…"
"Empty." Said Lyra her eyes distant and far away, lost in thought. "These grounds are cursed as well...or at least rumoured to be. They say a curse was placed upon the house, by who or whom no one is sure, but it is said that the curse ensures that nothing will live or feel happiness in this place as long as the house still stands. A myth, but seems to ring true nonetheless."
She slowly pointed at the ground as Tom observed, the grass was dead and dry, no plants seemed to grow around the yard and two dead trees stood at either side of the house. The land was barren.
Lyra, feeling the pangs of unhappiness spreading into her bones like wildfire decided their time here was up and no longer wished to stand in front on the house for any minute more than she already had. "We should go Tom. Let's not waste the day on this."
"I quite agree…" he spoke softly and slowly took his gaze off the house, his eyes shifting their attention onto Lyra's strange looking ones, the brown eye soft and inviting, the blue one cold and piercing.. The sides of her mouth turned up slightly in a half smile as if to reassure him and she turned around once more, continuing her journey.
Tom felt a strange sensation in his stomach again and quickly tried to ignore it, he had preferred the melancholy way the house had made him feel as opposed to this strange burning feeling in his gut. He followed her through the city for what seemed like an eternity until they came to a stop in front of a large iron fence, the top adorned with spikes to prevent people from hopping over its walls and into what revealed itself to be a cemetary. A white decrepit building could be seen off to the side, old and abandoned, or at least it seemed so. As they entered the old graveyard Tom read a small sign above their heads that read:
THE BURYING POINT
1637
OLDEST BURYING GROUND IN THE CITY
What was said underneath he was unsure of, he hadn't enough time to actually read that far as Lyra had begun to pick up her pace and walk quickly towards an old gnarled tree in the center of the cemetery. He walked past crumbling headstones and tried to make out some of the the names on the old slabs of stone, while trying to avoid stepping on broken bottles and debri that had been left behind by muggle visitors. Many of the tombstones if not all were illegible, evidence that the cemetery was indeed older than the country itself. He watched Lyra approach the tree and turn around, looking at him impatiently waiting for him to catch up.
"Quickly Tom." she spoke in a hushed voice. "And stand closely to me, make sure no one is watching."
Tom came to a stop about a foot from where she stood and looked around the cemetery lazily, while she pulled out her wand. He glanced back towards her as she aimed her wand at a small marking on the tree. It was a small neat circular rune with a long lines through the middle and the top, too neatly carved to have been made with a knife.
"Velim Vestibulum." she whispered as she raised her wand and slowly turned it like a key. Tom watched as the tree groaned and crackled as if it was breaking in two. The bottom of the trunk of the massive tree started to shift and split, small fissures forming at its base until a small door appeared before them outlined in a golden glow, a shiny brass knob lay gleaming in the middle of the frame. Lyra looked at Tom briefly and reached towards the doorknob, turning it slowly and pushing the door inwards. She motioned towards Tom beckoning him to enter first. As he walked passed her and stooped to walk through the small, dark entry way he caught another glimpse of the rune and turned his head towards hers, narrowing his eyes as he walked down the steps into a dark tunnel.
"That rune. What does it mean?"
Lyra climbed down into the tree trunk after him, carefully watching her feet as she made her way down the rickety steps. She closed the door with a heavy thump behind her and Tom watched as the gold shining outline of the door begin to fade. He lit his wand and offered his hand reluctantly to her as she took it, carefully coming off the last step, the ends of her long cloak and robes in her other hand, holding them up carefully as she finally placed her feet on the floor delicately as if not to trip. In the dim light his wand had produced, he thought he had seen a red glow creep up her cheeks, but quickly pushed it out of his mind as she spoke.
"Thank you. That last step is always a real pain. Now what was it you said again?"
She dropped the edges of her robes onto the floor once more as she looked around and raised her hand. Lights started to appear on both sides of the walls of tunnel, stretching down until Tom could no longer see and revealed the passageway they were standing in.
"Wandless magic again…" he thought to himself as he felt his insides burn with a stinging anger and jealousy. "How is it that she can perform magic without a wand so effortlessly and I still need mine."
Lyra started walking as Tom strode next to her looking at his strange surroundings. The tunnel was large enough to stand in, but crudely made and covered in dirt, the roots of trees still poking out of the ceiling of their dirt pathway. He felt as if he were a rabbit, making his way through an underground burrow.
"The rune. What did it mean?" he said as he continued to walk beside her pushing a dangling root to the side so as not to be struck with it as he passed underneath.
"It is the mark of Salem." she said as they made their way through the dirt covered tunnel. "There are many entrances scattered throughout the city, all marked with that rune so no one loses their way. During the trials many entrances were set up through Salem so witches and wizards were able to quickly escape back the where we belonged without the worry of being caught by scourers. All lead into the heart of salem."
"I see…" said Tom softly as he rubbed his chin. He made a mental note to remember the incantation she had used in case he needed it in the future.
As they walked on, Tom spotted another small door at the end of the tunnel, rolling his wand back and forth through his pocket anxiously, his other hand tightly gripped his suitcase in anticipation. The door was taller than the last and had the same rune carved onto its gnarled wooden surface. Lyra stopped at the door and turned around to him as if waiting for something.
Tom looked at her, curious as to why she had stopped.
"Well then?" he said calmly, trying to mask the impatience in his voice.
"Well, I figured since Salem was first on your list, you might want the honors. Unless you want me to-"
Lyra hadn't finished her sentence before Tom aimed his wand quickly at the door and mentally spoke the incantation inside his head. He looked briefly at her as the door swung open, flooding the tunnel with sunlight.
Salem was awaiting him.
Finally back from vacation and super sorry this chapter took so long to post, I hope everyone's holiday was lovely! I have so many chapters pre written with little notes and ideas, but this one was a little more difficult and it took me awhile to stitch some of these ideas together to get Tom and Lyra from point a to point b. I've already half finished the next chapter so hopefully I will have it up by thursday! Once again this story will probably end up being super long, so character development will take a little bit of time. Hope you all enjoyed! Please follow and review if you'd like! Questions or kudos or criticism is always appreciated.