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.
They had apparated into the dimly lit hallway of the Inn and Tom let out a breath of relief, his mood alleviated by the fact that they were the only ones seemingly still awake, the hall abandoned and empty. He looked at the heavy wooden door before him as he softly cursed under his breath, he was unsure of how well Lyra had secured the entrance to her quarters, but he knew it was the room which he required, his own lacking all the stores and ingredients that would be needed to ensure she healed properly. Still holding her in his arms, he aimed his wand at the door as he muttered a small charm to unlock it, hoping it would work, but still filled with in immeasurable doubt.
"Alohomora."
A small click met his ears and he watched the door swung open, surprised at how despite being so guarded and protective, Lyra had not taken further measures to protect her belongings. The candles were still lit in the room as he walked over her bed, placing her limp body down on the mattress , ripping the sheets back. Walking backwards, he closed the door quietly behind him and rolled up his sleeves as he stared at her torso, still torn and bloodied from the wounds the beast had inflicted upon her. Ignoring the pangs of pain coming from his own shoulder, Tom held his wand over her dress, ripping open the seams, as he cleared the fabric and debris from the deep lacerations that his spells had not, the gashes too deep for his previous magic.
"My shoulder will have to wait, if I don't clean and heal these wounds she'll die. She's already lost more blood than she should. have..."
Staring at her exposed skin, he firmly held his wand over her stomach as he started to chant another healing spell, more difficult and intricate in nature and he watched as her muscles and nerves suddenly started to weave together, her snow white flesh starting to bind once more. The task although simple at first, had began to prove more arduous and grueling as once he had completed mending some of the wounds, a previously healed laceration would suddenly burst open, undoing all he had just done and he found himself having to go back and repeat the process, over and over again until finally - they had become smaller, more manageable by hand.
Swearing under his breath, Tom waved his wand towards the towels that lay on the floor, catching them as they flew into his hand, filling the basin on her nightstand with fresh water as he tried to stem the rest of her bleeding.
"I need more than this..." He mused quietly and walked over to the other side of the room, opening a large standing wooden cabinet, rooting through the various potion ingredients, searching for what he needed. He sifted through the various vials and jars, his bloody fingers slipping and leaving stains on their glass surfaces when he quickly paused, finally finding what he had been looking for.
Tom uncorked a small vial labeled "Dittany" and he walked over to Lyra's sleeping figure, dropping some of the clear liquid into her open wounds. He continued to chant once more as the potion began to work, her injuries healing finally as he lifted his wand.
"She'll be scarred as I didn't have the dittany on time, but she'll live."
He wiped his forehead with his forearm, turning to the basin and grabbed a fresh cloth from beside the pile he had found, dipping it in the water carefully. Squeezing the excess off, he cleaned the blood and dirt from off her stomach, gently washing her skin until it was clean and fresh. Waving his wand over her body, fresh bandages appeared and wrapped themselves around her wounds, her body perfect and whole once more.
Placing his wand in his pocket, he felt his shoulders fall in exhaustion, washing his stained hands quickly before reaching for the bottle of dittany again, wincing in pain as he held it above his mangled shoulder, letting the clear drops fall onto his arm, his wounds sizzling and smoking they healed.
"That's better."
Tom walked over to the cabinet once more and placed the vial of dittany back on the shelf, his curious eyes falling upon an open potions book on the table next to him, with an empty vial labelled "Staghorn Caps" resting next to the open page.
"So that's why she had been in the woods…" He picked up the book as he read the potion and what it had entailed. "Homenum Hobus..."
Pushing the hair away from his eyes, he frowned at her choice. "- seems more of a preventative potion than one that would help her with her current affliction. No doubt she's trying to keep it at bay now while she searches for a cure…" His eyes glanced over the ingredients and shook his head at the idea of adding staghorn caps to the concoction. "This potion lacks an ingredient that would put the subconscious part of the mind to rest...Moonstone dust would be a far better approach to the solution…"
He put the book down quickly as he heard Lyra take a deep ragged breath, her chest rattling into spasms.
"It'll be awhile before we leave Salem...her wounds were deep."
Tom reached over to the cabinet once more and started to pull out multiple ingredients, the glasses clinking together as he placed them on the table next to him. Shooting a small burst of flame out from his wand, he watched as the hearth erupted in a warm glow, placing her cauldron carefully atop it.
"She lost too much blood, I need to make a replenishing potion if she is to survive the night..."
He started to pour ingredients into the cauldron, carefully mixing and measuring as he stirred it with his wand, adding to it occasionally. The work was time consuming, but this he did not mind, potions had always been a great skill of his, a distraction for his overactive mind. The hour passed by slowly, but before Tom could realize the mixture had finally started to bubble over, it's consistency thickened, turning into the brilliantly deep shade of garnet that was desired.
"Normally this should brew three hours for full potency, but she doesn't have that long. If I can make a large amount of the potion, I can give her double the amount needed once an hour and that should suffice…"
He walked back over to Lyra's bed as he watched her sleep. Her body was drenched in sweat and he watched as small beads of perspiration trickled down her pale white face and onto her pillow, soaking the fabric underneath her. Her hair, usually styled into soft, perfectly waved curls was matted to her face, sticking to her forehead and cheeks as noticed her body started to shiver. Tom brought his hand down to her forehead and hesitated for a moment before slowly lowering it to feel her temperature. The heat of her skin crept into his fingers and he instantly felt a burning feeling rise up from his stomach, quickly pulling his hand away. To him it was an invasion, an unwanted intimacy and even though it had lasted for only a moment, the touch was still too much.
"It seems a fever has set in."
He looked around for more towels in the room, but when he could find none, he looked down towards his blood stained shirt, far too soiled to be cleaned, decidedly ripping a piece of fabric from the sleeve.
"This will have to do." He submerged the cloth into the water and pressed it to her forehead softly, trying to break her fever. Pulling an empty chair from the corner from the room and placing it near her bed, Tom sat carefully, watching her through tired and sore eyes as she slept. Wand in his hands, he twirled it through his fingers gently, over and over again as he questioned once more why he was doing any of this.
"You need her alive. That's why all of this is necessary. If she dies, then she takes any chance you have of learning what this country has to offer you with her. Had this been under any other circumstance you would have left her in the woods."
He thought back to when he had first seen her enter the clearing, shouting his name with her wand erupting in flames. His first reaction was anger, wounded pride at the thought of needing help from someone else, but within moments that same rage had morphed into relief when he realized she had subdued the beast enough for him to kill it. His feelings were confusing, no doubt indeed but her actions puzzled him more, raising more questions than he dared to answer in his mind.
Why had she run to help him?
Why did she care?
She could have easily abandoned the woods and left him to his own devices. But instead she had risked her life to help him without hesitation and had almost died in the process. He couldn't understand her reasons.
Tom looked at her once more as his eyes trailed her body, a small flash on silver catching the light as it flashed towards his eyes, shining brilliantly from underneath the sheets. Leaning closer, he used his wand to move the blankets around where her right hand lay and looked at a small bracelet around her wrist, curious and inquisitive. The silver was tarnished and aged, with a small pendant in the middle of it's face. Empty holes encompassed the circular talisman and as he pulled at it with his wand, he saw that the holes were supposed to house small clear stones, most of which had fallen out but some had remained, giving the the piece of jewelry an old and antiqued look. He let the bracelet fall off the tip of his wand as he heard the cauldron bubble and sizzle, breaking his attention away from her. He pushed the chair back as he slowly got up and walked towards the cauldron, looking in and stirring it with his wand.
"This will have to do." he thought, walking over to the cabinet, pulling out a glass as he brought it over to the hearth, tipping a large amount of the potion into it. He waved his wand around the glass, cooling off the boiling liquid and he walked towards Lyra, wondering how to go about administering it.
"She needs to drink this...but she's still unresponsive…"
He grimaced, realizing what it was that he was going to have to do and placed the cup down beside her bed, slowly sitting down next to her on the mattress, uncomfortable and hesitant. Tom gently placed his hands underneath her, picking her body up and cradling it against his lap, sliding his arm underneath her as he ignoring the burning feeling that radiated through his body. Lifting her head up against his chest, he tilted her chin, ensuring she wouldn't choke on the potion and grabbed the glass bringing it slowly to her lips. As he tipped some of the potion into her mouth, he made sure to wait patiently between doses, letting it slowly trickle down her throat so as not to choke or drown her. His efforts continued on like this for an hour until most of the brew had been administered and slowly removed his arm from underneath her delicate frame, placing her head gently back on the pillow.
Watching her carefully, he noticed a small bead of potion sat upon her pale mouth and he gently placed his thumb on her bottom lip, wiping it away. His finger lingered on her face as his gaze moved from her eyes, observing all of her soft features, finally resting on her lips and after a few moments he recoiled in repulsion, suddenly realized what he had done.
"Enough." he thought, quickly turning away from her, trying to ignore the inexplicable emotions that had stirred within him and moved the chair he had previously sat in to a dark corner of the room.
He needed rest.
His mind raced enviously to the warm bed that lay empty in his room and scowled as he settled into the chair, rubbing his eyes. The potion would need to be given to her every hour until she awoke, otherwise everything he had done tonight would be in vain. There was no time for luxuries, no time to be given to his selfish desires. He was here because of his own mistakes and he needed to rectify them.
Leaning his arm against the side of the chair and resting his head into his palms, he stared out the small window to his right, watching the night sky fade as sleep started to tug at his eyelids.
Lyra opened her eyes, a wave of nausea and pain washing over her body as she stirred.
"Where am I?" she thought as she felt the soft cushion of a mattress underneath her, warm and supple.
She tried to prop herself up, ignoring the pounding pain in her head and let out a small yelp, the explosive pain coming from her stomach outweighing the agony in her skull.
Her vision starting to come into focus, she scanned the room slowly, the intrusive rays of light that came from the window blinding her as she traced the walls and furniture with her eyes until she finally realized that she was in her bed, in her room, at the inn.
"How did I get here?" she thought as she went to push the hair from her face, her hands grasping the damp fabric that lay across her forehead. "What is this?" she thought as she slowly pulled it off, laying it neatly beside her. She groaned once more as she tried to sit up, the pangs of her injuries tormenting her body, but all she could remember was running into the clearing to help Tom, fire and a searing pain before her world went dark.
Her mind raced as a thought struck her.
"Tom!"
Leaning back against the headrest, she winced once more and tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed, failing miserably as another wave of agony overtook her.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Lyra gasped as she looked around, watching as Tom stood up from the chair in the corner. Her mouth opened slightly as her eyes raced from his face, riddled with exhaustion, to his shirt which was torn and filthy and covered in blood.
"H-How long have you been sitting there?" she asked, unsure of how to react, displeased with the lack of privacy and uneasy with his company.
"Approximately one hour…" he said as he continued. "From the last time I gave you a blood replenishing potion. But if you'd like to know how long I've been in your room...all night." he said as he walked across the room slowly, pouring more of the thick red potion into the glass he had been using all night.
"He looks exhausted." She thought to herself, still groggy from her forced slumber.
"Drink this." he said gently as he handed her the potion. "It'll make you feel better. You've lost a lot of blood."
Lyra took the glass from him reluctantly and raised it to her lips, her hands trembling from how weak her body had become.
"Your shirt…" She pointed towards him. "Is that my blood...or yours?"
"Mostly yours, but probably a little of mine as well.." he whispered softly as he moved the chair to sit down opposite her, staring intensely as she drank from the glass.
"You should have let me die…" she said quietly, she sipping at the potion. "It would have been for the best.."
Her voice trailed off as she stared off into the distance, her eyes far away and distant.
"Not for me." he said as he leaned forward, taking the glass from her hands. "You made me a promise. I intend to hold you to it."
Lyra wiped her mouth carefully as she tried to lay back down. "You wouldn't understand…" the words fell from her lips softly, pulling the sheets over herself. Her hands brushed up against the gauze on her stomach, her cheeks starting flush as she wondered how much of her body Tom had seen.
"What is it that you think I wouldn't understand?" he said silkily as he filled her glass up once more, placing it beside her on the nightstand.
"...It's complicated…" Lyra said, her eyes trailing the ceiling above them. "Why is it that you need me anyway, you've already proved you can handle yourself...unlike myself apparently."
"How things have changed." she thought bitterly.
"It's complicated." he replied back smugly as he sat down across from her once more.
She grinned slightly until a flashback of the previous night flashed through her mind, remembering how Tom had pulled her hands from her stomach ignoring her pleas for death, recalling the familiar feeling of the hairs on her neck standing up, followed by a blinding pain that thrust her entire world into darkness. Her blood ran cold as she turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide and fearful.
What had he seen?
"Tom...did anything else happen last night…? Did you see anything that looked...strange?"
He looked at her lazily as she trembled, his eyes intense and dark as she searched them, quickly looking away in embarassment, a red flush creeping up onto her cheeks.
He let out a soft laugh as he stood up. "You need rest." Pausing as he turned to leave her bedside, he looked at her once more and frowned. "I am curious though, what was that creature in the woods? I've never encountered anything like that before."
Lyra winced as she tried to reposition herself. "I wouldn't have expected you to and hopefully you will never encounter any beast like that again."
She opened her eyes and looked at him angrily. "That Tom, was a wendigo."
"A...wendigo?" he said, unsure of the term.
"Yes. I told you when we had first arrived in Salem that during the witch trials, our ancestors had placed certain...safeguards around the city. Wendigo's were part of that protection, only they found out the hard way that they were uncontrollable...and dangerous."
"I see. They're natural then to this territory?"
Lyra's eyebrows furrowed carefully before replying. "There's a lot of speculation as to how Wendigo's came to be...some indigenous cultures say they've always been here, feeding on unsuspecting travelers or people unfortunate enough to come across them, others say that they were once scourers, cursed and transformed into beasts, filled with an insatiable appetite for flesh. They lure their prey in by projecting voices that aren't real, filling their heads with false promises and cries for help. This is why I told you to ignore strange sounds in the woods. There aren't many left in North America, and MACUSA has tried to destroy what remains...but they're difficult to kill Tom. Only the most skilled wizards have succeeded. I myself have never encountered one until last night, and we're very lucky to be alive."
He nodded as he looked towards the door.
"I suppose we should indeed be grateful for our good fortune then..." he said as he reached his hand out to grab the doorknob, a small creak could be heard as he slowly turned it and opened the large wooden door.
"Tom?" she said as she continued to stare straight ahead, unable to turn around and look towards him.
"Yes?"
"Thank you...for ignoring what I said in the woods..."
He paused as he nodded and closed the door softly behind him.
And there we go folks. I was super happy to include some North American folklore into the story as much as I can, I tried to do my research into how a wendigo would act and look, I hope I didn't botch it too much! ...and the story is heating up! Once again I don't feel like it's too OOC for Tom to actually help someone that might benefit himself, plus I thought it appropriate that he would definitely be skilled and learned enough to not only mend wounds but brew potions correctly and under stress. Hope you all like it so far! Review, follow and favorite! All are appreciated !