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.
He hadn't always found the darkness appealing.
Growing up in the bustling city of London, Tom eventually began to grow accustomed to the warm glow of the street lamps outside his window of the orphanage, the sounds of the city chattering and lulling him to sleep, like a lonely lullaby, those lights his only protection from the cold and unfeeling night. In contrast, he had come to learn that the wizarding world was anything but alive come sundown, for once the blanket of darkness started to loom over the small little magical towns he had learned called home, life became still and in this black pitch of night he had found a strange comfort, learning to disguise his intentions and his interests behind it, thriving underneath its veil. It was under skies full of stars and moonlight that he had felt free to express himself, it was nightfall that presented him with opportunities and knowledge that the daylight could not afford to him.
Tonight would not be any different.
He looked up into the indigo speckled sky that hung above his head and watched as the luminescent stars made warped and misshapen figures that stretched across the atmosphere, dancing and shining down upon him. A cool breeze hit caressed his cheek as he loomed outside the inn in a dark alleyway off to the side, calmly waiting for a particular moment to arrive. Upon discovering what Lyra had been researching in the library, he had made sure to make a speedy return to the inn, biding his time until she took her leave into the night, following her to get a better grasp on what he had read. He made sure to promptly arrive before her, leaving his room with plenty of time to spare before she resurfaced, his quarters dark and unoccupied to make it seem as if he were still buried under piles of books in the Athenium. As he waited patiently for her figure to appear, he thought back to what he had unearthed within the old frayed pages of the small forbidden book.
" - Lex Mortis Nox
a ritual for banishing unwanted spirits from within. Under certain circumstances, when a witch or wizard finds themselves possessed by malicious spirits they might be able to rid themselves of the parasite that has latched itself onto their body or soul. Not for the faint of heart -"
His thoughts were interrupted as the door to the inn opened slowly, a hooded figure stepping out into the night as it looked around.
"There you are..." Tom thought to himself smugly as he watched from the shadows, Lyra's cloaked frame making its way slowly down the street, long raven hair billowing out from under the hood as she walked amongst the shadows of the moon.
Stepping out from the darkness, he quietly followed behind at a safe distance, carefully muffling his footsteps. Although her thick robes disguised her, hiding her face from prying eyes, he knew there could be no mistake in his assumption that it was her. From a distance he could see her delicate milk white fingers grasp the hood of her cloak, holding it tightly around her to combat the night air, trying desperately to conceal her identity. He pursued her eagerly as she walked towards a different part of the square he hadn't visited before, crossing underneath a large brick archway which led into a small courtyard filled with tables and chairs.
Walking past the abandoned and empty chattel, he continued to follow her as she made her way towards a small cobbled path, adjacent to a small garden that wrapped around another row of closely set buildings, leading onwards. Following in her footsteps down back street, he paused momentarily, looking up at a large clock that lay ahead of them in another open, dimly lit square, set into a large tower made of stone. The new surroundings lacked a suitable place for himself to hide and held back in the shadows of the buildings, lingering behind as she approached the imposing tower, running her hands over the stone as if she was looking for something.
Tom narrowed his eyes and grasped the wall beside him leaning forward to get a closer look, curious as to what she sought, watching her fingers run anxiously against the marbled rock. Her voice no more than a whisper, he heard her mutter something soft and take a step back, waiting patiently as if something were about to happen.
"Curious..."
The seconds passed by slowly and Tom wondered if following her here tonight had been a waste of time, contemplating leaving before he was noticed. Without warning, a small quiet rumbling could be heard, like stones stacking against themselves against one another and he watched as the wall in front of Lyra had reassembled itself into a small door. Pressing himself closer to the wall, he saw her pale hand reach out towards the door, opening it quickly, her head bowing down so she could enter through its small archway. The air left his chest in small white puffs, the night breeze cold and frigid as he stood still, silent and anxious, eager to follow her. Pushing himself from his hiding place gently, he began to step out from the shadows, but quickly recoiled when he saw her head turn around and look towards the dimly lit cobbled pathway in which he still hid, her eyes narrowing slightly, as she began to take a step towards where he lay hidden.
Had he been discovered?
He held his breath, feeling her mismatched eyes fall on him, as if she knew he was there, lying in the dark watching her like an animal stalking his prey and felt his chest started to pound anxiously.
"Turn around…" He thought to himself, "Turn back around Lyra…"
He was desperately curious to uncover what she did under the veil of night, what she planned to accomplish with the dark spell she had been studying and he did not want her to stop before she had even started. Her interests were a familiar curiosity to him, the incantation chosen extremely difficult and ambitious and he found himself very interested to see someone else perform acts that others held in contempt.
He would not let this experience could not be ruined for him.
Looking back over towards where Lyra stood, he let out a slow breath of relief as she finally turned around and disappeared through the doorway, closing it behind her.
Letting a few moments pass, Tom walked over to the stone monument carefully, taking his time so that way enough distance could be placed between them, ensuring his success. Looking at the smooth slate before him he lifted his fingers and traced them around small gilded symbol, one that he recognized from earlier.
"This is the same symbol that was on the tree in the cemetery...the one that we had passed through to enter Chadwick Square. No doubt this leads back into another part of muggle Salem…" He paused momentarily, raising his wand with precision and aimed it at the rune, the anticipation starting to build in his stomach.
"Velim Vestibulum." The words fell from his lips gently as he turned his wand like a key, the stone starting to split and crack and rumble as it had before, the small door appearing in front of him, its brass knob gleaming in the moonlight, begging silently for his hand to grasp it. Tom quickly reached out towards it, turning the small knob until the door swung inwards and entered the hallway with ease, the dimly lit lamps still ablaze from Lyra's presence just minutes beforehand. Unlike the dirt and earth filled passage they had used to enter Chadwick square, he noted that this one was more polished and refined, the floors, ceilings and walls all made from a marbled rock, making the walk considerably less messy. Fixing his coat jacket as he took in his surroundings, his eyes caught a glimpse of another door at the far end of the tunnel and smirked as he made his way towards it, pleased with how the night was started to play out before him.
Within a few minutes he found himself standing in front of the small door at the opposite of the tunnel and pushed it open softly, feeling the cool night air blow against his face. As he stepped out once more into the still of the night he glanced around, wondering where he had been led to and looked at his surroundings. A thick forest stood behind him, the trees scattered across the hills like ants, the large statue standing tall amongst them, its door vanishing quickly behind him, as if it had never existed. Looking before him, a row of hazy street lights lined a small cobbled road, illuminating rows of muggles businesses and houses, quiet and still in the night. Looking in either direction, he tried hard to find a glimpse of the dark hooded figure he had followed, but to his chagrin there was none, making it feel as if Lyra had vanished into the night.
"Appare Vestigium." Tom softly murmured as he flicked his wand, gently blowing against the tip of the wood. He watched as flecks of golden dust burst from its tip, floating through the air and settling onto the ground around him. Kneeling down as a golden circle on suddenly appeared upon the ground, he smirked and stuck his wind through its center, a silhouette of Lyra quickly appearing through clouds of gold smoke. Grabbing his wand from the ground, he followed her likeness as it made it's way briskly through the old cobblestone streets, looking around as he observed his surroundings, the small suburban city quiet and dark. After a few short minutes, the figure stopped in front of a dimly lit brownstone, pulling the cloak away from its face and disappeared through its doors.
Tom looked darkly up at the painted sign above the doorway and narrowed his eyes, approaching the building in disgust. "So this is what she's chosen then? Surely there are better places to for her to succeed than as place such as this..."
He glanced carefully through the large tinted windows before him, trying to catch of glimpse of her and found himself unable, the heavy tobacco grease that lay thick upon its surface hindering any chance of him to see. He watched as a small droplet of condensation trickled down the glass, the lights inside flickering and reflecting off its surface, illuminating the many blurred shadows and figures within.
"I suppose there's no other choice then..."
Tom wrinkled his nose distastefully and walked up to the door, grabbing the handle hesitantly before pulling it open, the smell of cigar smoke and spirits assaulting his senses. Stepping inside, he glanced around quickly, scanning the room until he saw Lyra, sat by the bar quiet and alone. His dark eyes traced the curved of her back, her long raven locks splayed out over her shoulders, his gaze unwavering as he made his way back to the farthest corner of the bar, hidden away from the stench of unbathed muggles and their unwanted attention. Clutching his wand, his hand firmly placed in his pocket, Tom whispered a quick charm of invisibility, enabling him to observe Lyra and her surroundings without being discovered or bothered. He felt a small tug and felt a wave of cold air wash over him as the spell finished, casting a unseen blanket around him, signaling that he could no longer be seen or heard.
Tapping his fingertips impatiently on the surface of the wooden bar table, he looked at the clock hung above the large bar counter, wondering how long he had sat in that solitary spot, watching and waiting for her to make her next move. Still, Lyra continued to do nothing, sipping her wine innocently as she kept to herself, only moving when she finished her drink, raising her hand gracefully when her glass was empty, asking the bartender for it to be refilled.
"I know what it is she needs. But why she's chosen to sit in a muggle bar when the ingredients can be obtained more easily is beyond me..."
Tom lazily watched her for another half hour and snorted to himself in disbelief, bored by the lack of development in his night. He had hoped that after spying on her in the library, that tonight he would have been privy to witnessing her skill firsthand but it appeared to him that Lyra must have had reservations about the task and now seemed to struggle with completing it. Perhaps her determination was not as strong, her character lacking in the willpower and self-confidence he had briefly thought her in possession of. His index finger twitched momentarily and he looked down at his hand, wondering how much longer he cared to sit there, still as a statue, watching her consume glass after glass of wine. What had initially caught his attention about her had now started to turn into a waste of time.
A few more moments passed before Tom scowled, standing up in frustration from the table, prepared to make his leave until he paused, sudden movement by the bar catching his attention. A middle aged muggle crossed the room and abruptly sat down next to Lyra, his face red from drink, his hair balding and Tom watched in disgust from afar as the an placed a short chubby hand upon her shoulder. Sitting back down he observed the repelling scene before him, the off-putting muggle whispering into her ear, a lecherous look upon his face as Lyra laughed at the man, smiling and encouraging the conversation.
"She seems to be enjoying herself..." He mused to himself, trying to quell the nausea that rose in her stomach, confused and disgusted by the display. His eyes remained focused upon her and although he tried to focus his attention somewhere else he could not help but watch her legs part, crossing over themselves once more, her body language lewd and inviting as she entertained the muggle's suggestive advances. "...despite the disgusting conditions." Tom scowled as he struggled to diffuse his personal objections, wondering if he was more bothered by the fact she had let a muggle touch her or by the idea that someone so foul and unattractive could hold her attention.
Drink after drink, the pair continued to talk and he sat stiffly by watching her continue to smile and flirt, the private conversation too soft to be overheard. Tom silently cursed under his breath for his decision to settle on a corner so far away, unable to hear what she was up to, frustration gripping his mind. As the man continued to laugh and touch Lyra provocatively, Tom watched as Lyra edged her hand over to her purse, knocking it contents to the floor, pressing her hands into the air apologetically. The muggle bellowed and nodded, finally releasing his fat fingers from Lyra's leg and bent his round, portly figure over to retrieve them for her.
"A true gentleman."
He thought sarcastically and turned his head sharply in her direction as a soft gleam caught his attention, her milky white fingers reaching into her sleeve and pulling a glass vial, pouring its contents into the man's drink while he remained distracted.
"Clever..." thought Tom as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. "Maybe tonight wasn't such a waste after all…"
The corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he watched Lyra get up from her seat and place a few dollars on the counter, her glass untouched as she rubbed the man's back suggestively, beckoning him to follow her. Standing up softly, he followed as the muggle took her bait, placing an old hat upon his greasy, bald head and walked towards the door, exiting the bar behind her.
"I'm sure he'll regret that decision."
Tom sat up from the table, his mood growing more jubilant when he realized Lyra's deception, grinning to himself as he followed them out the door at a safe distance. "Tonight might prove interesting after all..."
The walk led on for awhile, eventually placing them across town and he found himself at the foot of the forest, staring at another yet another overgrown dirt path that led straight into it's depths. Unwilling to let her from his sight, he followed quietly, muffling his footsteps and taking care as to watch the branches and twigs that lay in his way.
"Quietus" He murmured gently at his feet, listening the the sounds from under his weight fade away. Despite their distance he kept between them, he could hear her still talking to the muggle, her voice travelling with the wind, it's tone no longer as warm or inviting as it had been. The sound made him smile and he began to admire his surroundings as he kept on, the foliage thick and dense the further they went, reminding him of Albania. Despite his unfamiliarity with the culture or the language, he had discovered a growing fondness of the Albanian mountainside and even after he had found Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, he had prolonged his stay there, simply out of affection. The woods there were peaceful...solitary, full and lush, far away from prying eyes and the bustle of the city, its inhabitants unassuming and simple. The magic there was old, he could feel it talking to him, coursing through his veins as he spent his days underneath its protection - like a child inside it's womb. These woods felt eerily similar to him and he felt his chest ache with nostalgic thoughts. There were secrets hidden here, there was danger that lurked amongst the trees and he could almost feel the magic dripping from his fingertips, giving him more strength and confidence the longer he spent time within it.
A voice broke him from his thought's and he turned his attention to the pair before him, still a few yards away.
"Where are we going? It's dark as hell in these woods, don't you think we've gone far enough?" The mans words were slurred, the drinks had done their jobs perfectly, but despite his inebriation he had finally begun to question Lyra's motives and why had taken him so far into the forest. Her voice rang out in response, soft and velvety, but no longer inviting.
"Just a little further, it'll be worth it, you'll see. It's the most beautiful spot in these woods."
Tom watched as she grasped the muggles hand firmly, pulling him along while smiling, looking back every so often to look at his face. His lumbering body starting to become sluggish, the night of drink finally starting to take it's toll and Tom could not help but wonder what she had given to him back at the bar.
A sleeping draught?
A poison?
He shook the idea from his head as he continued to follow them, the vial was no longer important. The night air caressed his skin as it blew through the woods, the leaves and fauna dancing around them making strange noises as they continued to trudge on. Coming to a sudden halt in a clearing, Lyra spoke once more, her voice calling out to her unwitting companion.
"Look, right there. How magnificent it is. You can see the moon as well, right over the top."
She had led the man to a large defoliated area which housed a large black oak, its trunk gnarled and massive, giving off the impression that it had been there for centuries, long before either of them had even been willed into existance. Its branches were barren and rotted, its tips bent and furled, the moonlight dancing along their pointed edges making them appear skeletal and foreboding. Tom stepped behind a thicket, hiding himself from view as he watched Lyra and the muggle walk up to the tree, pushing the leaves apart with his hands so he could see them without his view obstructed.
Her back now turned to the man, Lyra walked up to the giant oak and lifted up her hand to touch it, rubbed it tenderly against the bark of the tree, as if she were transfixed by its might. Her companion, though still drunk, was visibly unsettled by their surroundings and watched her with apprehension as he started to take a step backwards.
"It's getting late." he heard the man say as he continued to back away from Lyra, realizing that leaving the bar with her might have been a mistake, their jounrey inot the woods too far from the public for comfort. "I should leave, I think perhaps I've drank too much to be of any use...if you know what I mean."
There was a moment's pause before Lyra spoke once more, this time her voice cold and empty. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that."
Tom watched as she pulled her wand out from her sleeve and turned around to face the man, pointing it directly towards him.
"Stupefy!"
The muggle opened his mouth to scream, but before his throat could utter a noise, a flash of red light filled the clearing around them and the man had been thrust from his feet, falling on the ground near where he hid. Tom held his breath and watched as Lyra walked over towards where he lay hidden, staring at the unconscious man for a moment before flicking her wand, his body lifting up slowly into the air and resting gently down by the base of the ancient tree.
"And so it begins..."
Lyra observed the man once more, staring at his flushed and ruddy face before frowning, acknowledging her task and what she must do, and opened her purse with trembling hands. She placed her wand back into her pocket as she fumbled around inside the bag, summoning a small cup first, placing it on the ground beside her and then turned back, pulling a long silver dagger from it's recesses. Closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, she felt her breath escape her chest in short, ragged puffs and steeled herself for the next step, encouraging her unsettled mind.
"Steady yourself Lyra. You've come too far to change your mind now. There's no need for this to be anything other than quick and easy...you know that sacrifices must be made for the greater good - for everyone. Besides, you know what kind of man this is. You waited specifically for someone repugnant, someone society won't miss...you're doing the world a service."
The long wait in the bar had paid off and she knew it would only be a matter of time before someone tried to take advantage of her vulnerability and of her single situation. For a moment she had become disheartened when no men had approached her, remaining in huddled groups as they continued to drink, ignoring her scantily clad clothes and apparent inebriation, minding their own business as they ought to have...until he approached her.
He who for all intensive purposes, was filthier than the ground he laid on.
She had prodded him as they talked about the past, learning that he enjoyed making a mockery of woman, boasting unapologetically about his physical prowess and how women 'loved him', entertaining his filthy hands roaming over her only as a way to achieve her means, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat as he continued to lay his hands on her exposed flesh. Lyra shuddered angrily, thinking of all the pain he had probably inflicted on those who could not defend themselves, the pain that he had most likely spread to unsuspecting women, not only using his fists and words to manipulate them, but his body as well. Her eyes opened quickly in anger, her finally ready for the undertaking before her.
The dagger gleamed in the moonlight as she raised it up towards the tree, its reflection dancing across its gilded blade. She held it in the air, trying to recall what the book had said:
"The deed may not be done with wand or spell, neither will show a true desire for gratification. A blade is best suited for the ritual, showing that the witch or wizard is indeed dedicated and worthy of purification."
Closing her eyes she started reciting the words she had memorized off the pages of the old book, the language foreign to her tongue.
"Quia Sanguis Sanguinem Animam Pro Anima, Dimittis Me Ab Operibus." Lyra murmured softly, placing the blade on her palm and dragging its steel across it quickly, wincing as her hand curled into a fist, crimson beads pouring out from between her fingers. Cradling her hand, she walked slowly over to the tree and held it over its gnarled roots, watching the droplets of blood fall against the black and twisted bark, trickling slowly down into the soil. That part of the rite satisfied, she made her way over to the unconscious muggle, her gait determined and unwavering as she knelt down and held the dagger to his neck, reciting the final words of the spell. Looking blankly into the darkness ahead, she felt herself grow distant and detached from her actions, preparing herself for what was about to happen. Without hesitation and without feeling, Lyra dragged her the blade quickly across his exposed neck, feeling the hot liquid from his wound start to spread down her hands, coating them in a thick layer of blood.
Steadying her trembling hands, she grasped the cup from beside her, her hands staining it's clean appearance and held it up to his neck. As the red stream spilled into the goblet, she felt his body go limp underneath her, the twitching and spasms of his body finally ceased. At the signal of his passing, she removed the cup and stood up, facing the tree once more, raising her wand up with one hand, the other pouring a few drops of the muggles blood onto the roots where her own had been spilt as well.
To save a life, one had to take a life. It is what was necessary and she had done so without fault or hesitation.
"Caeruleum Incendio!" Lyra yelled, her voice strong and determined and watched in wonder as the tree erupted into a haze of blue fire. It's flames licked and danced along the branches, trunk and roots, but did not seem to burn anything in its vicinity as it consumed the oak, lighting up the night around her. Walking over, her steps cautious and slow, she reached towards the blue fire, her fingertips shaking as they touched the flame.
"Strange...I thought the flames would be hot...but they're not. They're cold...like an ice." The sensation surprised her and although it was unnerving, she kept her hand held out before her, her palm numb, the feeling akin to holding snow without a glove. Lyra slowly reached into the cerulean flame once more and grabbed at the bark, ripping at it with her nails and fingers desperately until it gave way and crumbled underneath her touch, an oozing liquid bursting forth the hole. Raising the cup up to the tree, she tilted it towards the strange substance, it's color and consistency the same as the blood that covered her hands.
A soft grin tugged at her face as she looked down at the chalice.
Everything was going exactly as the book had described it would.
So sorry for the hiatus in the story, A lot has happened in the past year and for awhile I lost a little bit of inspiration. I plan on definitely trying to dedicate at least 1 or two nights writing a week so I can finally get the ball rolling a little more. Review or follow or add this story to your favorites if you enjoy it, it definitely promotes motivation! :)