IInception: 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.
The stench of dried blood lingered in the air like a fog in the morning, the odor of iron strong and overwhelming as the bodies lay on the floor, their bodies strewn apart like broken mannequins. Their chests had been ripped open, delicate ribs as white as snow cracked and mangled, the tendons and ligaments hanging from them like vermillion scraps of yarn. The first corpse had slid from the large oversized bed to the right of the door, the yellow down comforter wrapped around it caked in blood, it's face staring up at the ceiling, mouth spread open, as if a scream were still on it's lips, the eyes as dead and hollow as a doll. Mutilated and torn, the severed vessels that fell from it's chest cavity lined the floor like corrugated pipes, leading towards the door. The second body, hidden in the shadows of the corner, lay propped up against the opposite wall, lifeless and broken, his head drooped forward over the mounds of flesh on his chest that had been savagely shredded by unknown claws.
The moon shone in through the open window, casting a beam of silver light into the room as the curtains parted, blowing wildly back and forth in the night air. A flicker of the pale moonlight shone briefly on figure that lay in the corner of the room, its figure huddled under a thick black cloak. From underneath the thick fabric its frame slowly rose and fell, the noises escaping from it's chest piteous and sharp; it's breathing shallow and ragged. A groan, this time louder, accompanied the fragmented gasps as the body stirred, slowly sitting up from underneath it's cloak.
Lyra moaned as her eyes fluttered open, the breath escaping her lungs short and uneven as she pulled her knees towards her chest.
The pain was getting worse.
It had never felt so excruciating before.
Her head was throbbing and with each gasp of air she took, it felt as if someone had taken a knife to her head, repeatedly stabbing at her skull. Cradling her head between her hands, she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that in time the pain would go away. The agony made her feel detached from the world, as if she were staring at her own body from the ceiling and as she tried to regain her strength all she could concentrate on was the blinding pain that sprung from her head. Without warning the cool breeze from outside whipped forward from the window and creeped underneath her cloak, the air licking at her exposed legs, reminding her that she was still alive.
That it hadn't been a dream.
The acrid smell of blood hit her nose as she weakly rose to her feet, a sudden wave of fear encapsulating her body, afraid to look at the scene before her.
"Merlin, help me…" she thought as she reached up to remove the cloak from over her face. Without hesitating she pulled it aside, knowing all too well what she would find when she looked around her, it was always the same.
The same nightmare, over and over again. Only it was real and she couldn't escape it by opening her eyes.
She looked around the room weakly as she surveyed the damage she had wrought, her eyes glanced over one body as they slowly moved over towards the next. Both had been ripped apart, both had suffered the same grisly end. She walked around the room slowly, the shag carpeting squishing underneath her feet, soaked in blood. As she walked forward to take another step, she recoiled in disgust as her foot landed on something spongy, the substance mashing under her weight. As Lyra looked down, she felt her stomach tighten, taking a step back quickly in disgust. It was a human heart, dismembered, mutilated and half consumed.
"It's more than one victim this time. Whatever is taking control of me is getting worse. How long do I have before I can't hide this anymore?"
She regained her composure slowly, calming her nerves and reached for her wand, her delicate fingers running over its shaft as she took one last look at the bloody scene before her. With a small pang of guilt in her stomach, she raised her wand up and waved it quickly, watching as the bodies suddenly disappeared, the carnage disappearing as the room cleaned itself up. As the pillows slowly fluffed themselves and lay on the freshly cleaned comforter neatly, she could not help but feel the emptiness numbing her body, the cold feeling of apathy pulsing through her veins.
She knew it was wrong, treating the dead as if they were disposable, like discarded rubbish. But she had no choice. Nothing could be left behind to give any clue as to what had happened, no one must know. As for the victims families, if they had any, they would have to buy headstones for empty graves.
"I used to feel something once…" she thought as she rubbed her face, her eyes puffy and sore from the series of events that had led her to the cold empty bedroom. "I used to feel guilt...remorse...and I was horrified by what I had done. But now...now I feel nothing. Is this how I'll be forced to live my life from now on?"
A flicker of moonlight danced across the room and reflected off a long mirror hanging from the wall opposite her. At the show of light, Lyra gazed at her reflection, walking closer to the reflective glass as she stared at her blood stained figure. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, wondering what she hated more, the evil acts she performed unwillingly or the cruel things she had purposely done to regain her independence
"I've become a monster..." she whispered as she pulled the cloak tightly around herself, raising the hood up over her head to mask her face. Grasping her wand, she hastily flicked her wrist and disapparated from the room with a loud - "CRACK!"
Tom sat in silence as he closed another book in frustration, reaching for another from the large dusty stack that lay before him. He had left the inn at the first light of day in order to find any type of explanation for what he had seen last night but much to his chagrin, his task had remained largely unsuccessful.
"The creature I saw was neither werewolf, nor spirit, but a physical manifestation of something else entirely...how is something like that possible? I've never read about anything that even remotely fits the description of what that was last night..."
He picked up a large dusty book entitled "Possessions, Poltergeists and Other Unnatural Phenomena" and opened up the page to the beginning as he picked up his quill and began to write furiously, flipping through its pages.
Body Hopping
Body hopping is an ancient dark practice in which spirits of the deceased may transfer themselves quickly from one physical body to another, with little or no resistance from the host. There are usually very few conditions on what dictates how the spirit may move onto a new body without remaining stuck in another's physical state permanently. With few or little cases known to date, this remains an extremely difficult task to accomplish, but research shows that this would have significant trauma on the host, resulting in weakness, fatigue or in most cases death. Research is also limited and unreliable from most sources because the keepers body will likely not change in physical appearance, but only psychologically, therefore it is hard to tell if a subject is indeed possessed, or in fact just mentally unstable.
Tom paused as he dipped his quill in the inkwell and drew an angry line underneath what he had just transcribed, starting a fresh section on the paper. While an intriguing topic, the subject matter did not fit with what he was searching for and he resigned himself to keep looking. He flipped through the next couple pages as his eyes scanned through the different cases, studies and examples of possessions until his gaze landed on a particular title that caught his eye.
Physical Possession and Manifestation of a Physical Body through Chosen Objects
Although seemingly improbable in nature, the idea that one may preserve his or her likeness in an object with the sole intention of rebirth has existed for many years. Scholars have argued that although no one has successfully attempted this feat, the idea that one may rebuild their own likeness by parasitically draining their host through a cursed or dark object may in be achievable. One the host has adequately supplied the imprint of the objects owner with enough of their own strength and life, their likeness will come to fruition.
Tom rubbed his lip softly with his index finger as he quickly jotted down what he had just read to the parchment before him.
"Interesting….This isn't quite what I'm looking for either, but I could see use for this in the future..."
He smirked as he folded up the paper and placed it in his pocket, creating new spells and curses had proven to be an enjoyable hobby of his, the task tedious and consuming but the skill was something that set him apart from others. Something that proved his skillset more exceptional than the rest, in certain cases spell-making could be dangerous but in most situations it was just a matter of finding the correct words to string together.
He brushed aside the stray strands of black hair that fell into his face as he picked up the book once more, flicking his wand impatiently, the pages turned themselves as the dust from scattered around him. His mind drifted away amongst foreign pages when suddenly an unwelcome interruption snapped him back to reality, a familiar voice belonging to the last person he wanted to see.
"I hope your studies are proving to be more fruitful than my own."
Tom lowered the book as his eyes rose to meet hers and he shifted lazily in his chair as he tried to mask the annoyance that spread across his face. Lyra had caught him off guard and although he was sure she did not suspect his intentions, he was loathe to entertain her banter while he was in the middle of reading books that pertained directly to what he had witnessed last night. He tried to quell his feelings of frustration as she took a seat opposite him at the table in the dimly lit corner of the Athenaeum, the candlelight above them dancing across her face as she lowered the hood of her cloak.
"They've been enlightening at the very least." he said as he placed the book face down in front of him, forcing a smile upon his face, his quill tapping indignantly against the parchment in front of him. "I'm sorry to hear you've not had the same experience."
He watched her face display an array of emotions, her brows furrowed in dissatisfaction before they relaxed, a strange calm spreading across her features. He stared into her blue and amber eyes before she broke his gaze and rubbed the dust off one of the books with her finger slowly.
"No matter. I'm sure my efforts will find success elsewhere."
"No doubt, I'm sure. Books only hold information that can be half useful." Tom said softly, his fingers softly playing with his wand as he continued to stare at her.
"How do you figure?" Lyra said in amusement, trying to ignore his unwanted attention.
"Well, as I see it, books can only provide half of a knowledge, they introduce you to a method and a rudimentary ability on how to perform and understand a spell or a concept. What they don't provide you with is experience or the necessary skill it takes to perform them."
Lyra laughed. "Very clever. I never thought to think of it like that...I suppose by that logic you would be correct."
Tom's gaze traveled across her face, resting on the new marks that ran from under her eyes down her cheeks, burned flesh that had not been there when they had first met.
"Dark magic always leaves traces behind…" he mused as he reflected on his own appearance and how it had changed after every horcrux. The differences were subtle, but he noticed them nonetheless, imperfections on his otherwise perfect appearance.
Lyra's cheeks turned red as she realized what had caught his attention and quickly raised the hood of her cloak once more to mask her face. She stood up from the table, signaling that the conversation was over, her voice suddenly distant and guarded. "I understand that you wish to study alone and you must forgive me for the intrusion, but the reason why I did so was to find you and tell you tonight that will be our last in Salem. It's time we move on to somewhere else."
Tom raised an eyebrow as he looked lazily back at the books.
"As you wish. May I ask where?"
Lyra opened her mouth to reply as she glanced at the books he had been reading, her eyes suddenly glistening with suspicion. Her expression turned blank as her voice took an icy tone. "I haven't decided yet. Enjoy the last night of your studies Tom but I really wouldn't waste it reading that useless nonsense."
He raised an eyebrow as his mouth tugged upwards into a wry grin.
"I'm finding all of these to be quite fascinating. But then again, perhaps you're more versed on this subject than I am."
She stared at him coldly as she turned around and started to walk away from him.
"I'll see you tomorrow Tom."
He watched as she turned the corner and out of his sight, looking back down towards the book. He opened it to the page from where he left off, smirking as he thought to himself " Nonsense indeed."
Lyra hastily swept down the great stone steps that led out of the Athenaeum, her dark cape billowing behind her in the night air, her face hidden from the world as she made her way back towards the inn. Thinking back to the encounter that had transpired between them moments before, she felt her insides burn with embarrassment, with anger and placed a reluctant hand up to her eyes, tracing the faint scars where she had been burnt. She hadn't thought them noticeable, but after Tom's reaction and his lingering gaze, clearly she had been wrong. Her cheeks flushed with frustration as she thought of how she had reacted to Tom's unwanted scrutiny, reprimanding herself for possibly drawing more attention to herself than need be. She wasn't embarrassed or ashamed of her appearance, but when he had looked at them, she felt a strange notion in the pit of her stomach like he knew what she had been up to.
"That was stupid to act so childish. You're letting paranoia get the best of you."
She walked down the long pathway that led to Chadwick square, turning left into the bustling traffic of the marketplace, her figure blending in amongst the crowds of people. Lyra took her time as she passed the busy shops, where witches and wizards roamed in and out of the stores, their arms weighed down with bags and boxes of merchandise while they haggled with the trolley merchants parked along the street. An old witch plump witch pushed past her with a small cart filled with pastries, cakes and tarts as she screamed loudly for all to hear and at once she felt her insides growl with hunger.
"Cauldron Cakes! Pumpkin Pasties! Apple Tarts!" the witch yelled as she continued down the street and Lyra looked back for a moment, deciding to give into her empty stomach.
"I'll take an apple tart please." Lyra said as she dug into her coin purse and handed the lady five sprinks. The witch looked at her curiously, her eyes full of suspicion and grabbed the money from her hand, shoving the pastry towards her.
"I suppose I should get used to that..." She thought bitterly as the witch hiked up her cart and hastily moved away from her, as if the distance between them was no longer enough. The smelled of the sweet turnover was too much to resist and she opened it up to take a bite, continuing down the street, watching others go about their days without care or worry.
"I had forgotten how much I loved apple tarts..." she mused as two children ran past her screaming and laughing, chasing each other around trolleys and congregations of people. "Look at them…so carefree...so happy..." she thought as she watched the children. "I don't remember life ever being that easy."
She let out a sarcastic snort as she threw the napkin that held the tart into a nearby garbage bin, still thinking of her childhood.
"Although...Life seemed so much more promising...despite the setbacks..."
As she snapped out of her thoughts, she recognized the small bookstore to the right of her, volumes of books flying in and out of the front window, stacking themselves onto far off shelves. Lyra felt her thoughts drift back to Tom and felt a small well of guilt rise in her chest, suddenly regretting how coldly she had treated him.
"It was wrong to take my frustrations out on him…to think that he would have any interest in what I do. It felt...different to have a conversation with someone other than myself for once, I've almost forgotten how it feels. It was distracting for awhile in a...not so horrible way...I guess." She stood in doorway, uncertain of whether or not to go in and she suddenly felt an annoying sense of morale assault her mind, arguing with her to rectify her poor manners. "I should get him something as an apology...he seems to appreciate books as much as I do…"
Lyra walked up to the door, balling her fists in discomfort and read the small wooden sign with golden lettering above the doorway
Scrolls & Scribes
EST 1690
The bookstore, although small in appearance from the street, was large and sprawling inside, the collections of books that had looked so neat from the outside were deceiving and she looked upon the giant maze of that lay before her, unorganized and jumbled around in stacks. "Seems like nothings changed here." As Lyra walked amongst the walls of literature she watched as volumes flew out from their resting places, wildly zipping around her head as they shot off to another corner of the store, nestling into their new stacks. Amidst all the confusion, little tiny paper airplanes zoomed around the store, landing in bins and slots and into fellow customers hands, trying to aid them in their purchases. Lost and unsure, wondering what book might interest him, she traveled up and down the aisles until a small leather bound book caught her eye, entitled: "Beasts and Creatures of North America: The Full Anthology" .
"This could prove useful to him...since he seems to know so little about our corner of the world..."
She picked it up gently and flipped through the pages, continuing to walk around the bookshop aimlessly. As she wandered, lost in thought she felt herself suddenly bump into another customer, knocking the books from their hands. Quickly pulled from her thoughts, she shut the book immediately and turned to apologize, bending down to return what had fallen from their arms, but frowned when she stood upright and realized that there was no one there.
"Strange..."
Looking down at the books she held in her arms, she placed them neatly onto a shelf next to her before pausing, one of the forgotten texts catching her eye. It was larger than the other volume she had picked out for Tom, but it age and appearance intrigued her and she found herself drawn to it, her eyes transfixed as if she were in a trance. The cover was made from what appeared to be leather, but when she touched it, the textile under her fingers felt like dried up sandpaper and she knew at once it was older than it looked. A small little brass latch adorned the front along with tarnished golden pendant that lay on the cover, giving it a mysterious and valuable air.
"I've feel like seen this emblem before...but I can't seem to recall where..." she thought as she unlatched the clasp and opened the book, gently flipping through its yellow and aged pages. Before she could focus on one page in particular she felt herself interrupted once more, this time by a small timid voice behind her.
"L-L-Looking for anything in particular Ma'am?"
Lyra closed the book and shuffled it into her arms underneath Beasts and Creatures of North America and shook her head quickly at the young sales clerk behind her. He was small with thick round glasses and she could not help but pity him as he stammered once more, trying to offer his help.
Aware that he appearance might unsettle others and unwilling to attract more unwanted attention she politely shook her head, and headed to the front desk to purchase her items.
Exiting the store, Lyra hastened her speed as she quickly walked to the inn, wishing desperately to rid herself of human company and be alone once more with her books, her potions and her own undistracted mind. Time had gotten away from her and she realized that she had spent more time in the shop than intended, the sun starting to set in the sky before her, the horizon a kaleidoscope of purple, orange and red. Knowing that they would be off to a different destination tomorrow, she needed time to pack her belongings, to compose herself and think logically about where she needed to go next to get the answers she so desperately sought.
"It also wouldn't hurt to maybe get a full night's rest." she thought as she entered the Inn, bypassing the loud noises of the dining area as other guests enjoyed their evening meals, heading quickly up the steps to the small room in which she was staying.
Her hands lingering softly on her door, she hesitantly looked towards the room next to her, noting that Tom's quarters was still dark and unoccupied and she felt her shoulders relax as she disappeared into her quarters.
"He's probably still at the Athenaeum trying to learn what he can before we leave. I'd be there too if I thought that somewhere still among those stacks of books I would find something worthwhile."
She closed the door softly and placed the books she had purchased down onto the table opposite her, hanging her cloak neatly on a wire rack. Her arm ached in pain as she raised her wand up to illuminate the candles that lined the walls and rubbed her shoulder trying to ease her discomfort, but it was no use.
"My body's been through so much these past few weeks, no wonder I'm sore." she mused as she walked over to another door, right next to the fireplace where her cauldron was still hanging in the hearth. Tapping her wand on the dull brass knob three times, she opened the door to reveal a large bathroom with a deep stone tub, its basin already filled with water.
"A hot bath might ease my pain a little, even if only for tonight." Lyra whispered to herself as she disrobed slowly, walking over to the bath and placing a foot carefully inside to check the temperature, sliding into it with ease when she realized the water was absolutely perfect. The bathtub appearance was deceiving and she found that it was deeper than it had looked, feeling like more like a pool than any ordinary bath she had ever been in.
As she sat, soaking in the balmy heat of the water, she tried to clear her mind of her worries and instead tried to distract herself by thinking of something else. Unwillingly she felt her mind wander back to Tom and the arrangement they had made.
"This was foolish. What made you even think for one moment that it was a good idea to bring someone else - let alone a stranger, along with you across the country, when you can't even control your own body or mind? What if he finds out? He could ruin everything…"
She half laughed aloud as she thought bitterly "Then again. what exactly could he ruin? I have nothing. I've been forced to give up everything I've ever cared about and for what? To live like this? It's been two years and I'm no closer to finding the solution to my ailment then when I first began looking. I'd be better off if I went to MACUSA..."
Lyra splashed her face with water as she took a deep breath, shaking the thought from her head. "No...I can't think like that. The whole reason I've separated myself from others is to protect them...and to give myself time. MACUSA won't protect you...they don't protect anyone. They would only kill me anyway, or lock me away... and what good would that do? You have to remain strong."
She tapped her fingers on the side of the bath as her thoughts strayed once more. "Tom was reading books about spirits and possessions..."
As she listened to the water dripping gently from the pipes, she continued to stare off into the distance until a sudden thought popped into her head. "I may not have figured out what is exactly wrong with me or how to get rid of it...but I wonder if I can subdue it….even if only for a little while…"
The idea excited her as she quicky sat up from the tub and waved her wand in the air, holding her hand out as a book flew into her outstretched palm.
"Draught of peace, Pepperup Potion, Amortencia, Wolfsbane Potion….and here we are!"
Lyra read aloud as she found the potion she had been looking for.
"Homenum Hobus. A potion to protect a witch or wizard from possession or malevolent intent." she whispered as she traced her finger downwards, reading the rest of the potion synopsis.
"...however, if the witch or wizard in question is already possessed or hexed, this may not expel the force in question, it may only act as a slight deterrent."
Lyra bit her lip as she thought about what she had read. "Well, it couldn't hurt to try...and if it doesn't work at least this potion won't leave me with more scars to cover up."
She looked down to read the ingredients and realized she had all but one.
"Staghorn caps...it's the only ingredient I don't have...I knew I should have taken the time to go through my stores and replace what I was I was missing, but I've been so distracted lately….and now it's so late, I'm sure all the shops are bound to be closed by now…"
Her mind raced once more as to where she could get her hands on the mushroom when a sudden realization hit her.
"I'm pretty sure when I was in the forest the other night, I came across a whole clearing of these...I can't be certain but it's my only choice right now."
Lyra reached for a towel as she emerged from the tub, ignoring her still aching back as she quickly dried herself off. She walked back into her bedroom and placed the open potion book on the desk near her bed, putting on the clean clothes she had laid out for herself. Without hesitation, Lyra quickly grabbed her cloak and threw it over herself, preparing her body for the cool night air.
Well next chapter posted and I'm already a quarter finished with the next! I hope you guys liked it! Next chapter is going to be a bit more interesting as things between our two characters start to heat up :) . Also….that piece of parchment Tom saved is a little bit of a nod to the curse he put on his diary, he had to have gotten in from somewhere in my opinion, Tom Riddle created his horcruxes before he protected them with terrible curses and spells because I would assume as he got older, his knowledge in the Dark arts would just grow. Also, the body hopping curse was inspired by how Tom would use snakes to keep himself alive in Albania before Quirrell found him. But as always please review, fav or follow!