Inception: Rise of the Heir
Tom Riddle disappeared for 10 years. Where did he travel and what did he do during his absence? This is my feeble attempt at a Tom Riddle backstory, right before he rejoined the world officially as Lord Voldemort.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my o/c's.
"Three sprigs of lavender...crushed…" Lyra said as she tipped the clippings of herbs she had prepared off the cutting board and into the simmering cauldron next to her. she scribbled once more on the parchment to mark what she had done.
She read aloud her notes, ensuring what she had written was legible and easy to understand in case she had a need for more in the future. "Crushing the lavender, rather than roughly chopping it, will allow the herbs to steep and break down more easily into the potion."
Pausing momentarily before she picked up the next ingredient, she ran her thumb down the page to make another amendment. Looking to her right she picked up a glass vial labeled 'Flobberworm Mucus' and wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"One blob of Flubberworm Mucus...and stir counterclockwise three times.."
She continued to read as she followed the potions directions, frowning as she read the next line.
Simmer for two hours.
Sighing as she rubbed her abdomen, she looked down to the last note she had written. She had scribbled out the last ingredient-Staghorn Caps-and traced her fingers over what she had neatly written next to it.
"Moonstone dust…" she whispered gently as she crossed her arms and furrowed her brow.
"Why should you even trust anything he says? For all you know it could be a ruse to prevent all of this from working."
She rubbed her arms as she sat gently in the wooden chair beside her. "His advice seemed genuine and he was definitely angry when I threatened to part ways with him. I know he needs my help to do whatever it is he's here for...leading me astray would be counterproductive…. "
A small voice in her head continued to argue with her. "Only moments before he held a wand to your throat. Be careful of whom you trust, you've been betrayed before."
"This is a risk I'm willing to take." she murmured softly as she tucked a stray strand of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear. She understood the properties and merits of moonstone dust and she knew his advice could prove more fruitful results if added correctly. If he had meant to alter what she had been trying to accomplish there were far riskier and more dangerous ingredients he could have suggested.
She thought back to their unpleasant conversation earlier, she had been so preoccupied with her task at hand she had pushed the event far from her mind and upon revisiting it, she felt her stomach drop slightly. As to why, she was uncertain for many reasons. Part of her had hoped, although she had known better, that he would divulge to her the information she so desperately needed without conflict or resistance. The other part of her wished that he had ended her miserable suffering quickly, letting his anger and hostility take control as he had most likely wanted to do. A small fraction of her even wished that he would have at least made her experience pain, even if only just a little, to make her feel some kind of penance for the atrocities she had committed.
She laughed to herself bitterly.
"This is my atonement, perhaps. To live my life as if I were already dead, a walking corpse who's every moment is a hell on earth. How befitting."
Lyra glanced out the small window of her room and waited for tears she knew that would never come. It had been a long time since she had experienced such emotions that came naturally to others and she wondered if she would ever be able to feel them again. Happiness had turned into sadness, which had led to anger that over time had resulted in a body numbing apathy.
Sharp stabs of pain snapped her from her thoughts as she ran her hands tenderly over her stomach. She rubbed her hands softly across the fabric of her nightdress and gently lifted it up towards her chest, exposing the raised red and angry wounds that lay across her abdomen. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead as she gently grazed her fingertips across the swollen and throbbing gashes.
"These wounds are infected. If I don't clean them thoroughly and apply a healing salve, they'll only get worse."
She stood up carefully from her seat and held her hand out towards her large wooden cabinet as she recited a summoning spell quickly, holding her hand out in anticipation. A small star shaped tin flew into her outstretched palm as she made her way back over towards the water basin. Waving her hand over the basin she watched as it filled with hot water, the swirls of steam rising from the bowl as she looked around for a clean cloth.
She swore under her breath softly as she realized that all the towels in her quarters were all still thrown into a pile, blood stained and soiled from the few nights prior. Waving her hand in a delicate motion, she watched as they lifted up until off the floor.
"Scourgify!"
The stains and blood slowly started to disappear from the towels and as she muttered another incantation, they started to fold themselves neatly next to her. She picked a newly clean cloth from off of the pile and dipped it into the hot water, pulling it out carefully and wringing it with her hands before pressing it to her stomach, cleaning and washing the healing wounds. Returning the cloth to the bowl, she reached for the small tin beside the basin and uncapped it, revealing a paste like substance. Scooping a generous amount between her fingers she gently applied it to her skin, spreading the salve over the burning and sore marks.
"You did this to yourself, you know." She thought as she placed the lid back onto the container and pulled her nightdress down slowly. "He wasn't lying when he told you that you still needed rest...and as a result of your own stubbornness your wounds may take longer to heal."
She bit her lip as she looked once more to the potion she had brewing on her hearth. "What other choice did I have? It's only a matter of time before the darkness takes over once more."
"You didn't have to save him from that wendigo. You had warned him about the woods. It was no one's fault but his own that put him in that situation, and as a result of your own stupidity you were wounded in the process and most likely revealed your affliction, which should have remained secret, to a stranger!"
Her eyes stared into the fire below the cauldron. "I couldn't let him die. Despite the things I've done, the evil I've committed, if I can still try to do some good then maybe all is not lost just yet."
Lyra made her way over towards the bed as she lay down carefully, staring up at the blank white ceiling above her as she closed her eyes.
"What's done is done. Soon the potion will be ready for the last ingredient and if every goes correctly in a few days of brewing it will be ready for consumption. I hope this works...if it doesn't I don't know what my next move will be, I've already exhausted all of my options here."
Her eyes caught a flash of silver as her bracelet dangled out from underneath her night dress. She pulled her sleeve back as she watched the light dance and gleam off its smooth antiqued finish, the scattered clear stones that adorned it shining back at her brilliantly. Holding her arm above her head she slipped two fingers behind the dangling face of the bracelet, rubbing it slowly with her thumb.
"I feel so lost. I've always prided myself on being one step ahead of everything that was thrown my way...But now I feel as if I'm scrambling alone in the dark, trying to gather bits and pieces of things that don't make any sense. What am I missing? Where do I go from here? "
A blanket of anguish crept over her as she continued to stare at the burnished piece of jewelry, feeling the weight of it all rise up through her stomach and spread over her body like a thick woolen sheet. She closed her eyes and held her breath as she waited, quietly, for her despair to consume her like a wild beast.
The sun had begun to set as Lyra stood before the cauldron once more stirring it as her hand hesitantly grasped the last vial on the table which held the final ingredient. The contents of the small vial shone brilliantly, milky and luminescent, as if she had captured all the stars in the sky and trapped them inside the glass.
She pulled the cork stopper out slowly, so as not to spill any of the dust and held it eagerly over the boiling cauldron.
"I don't have much moonstone dust left and Tom didn't specify how much to use...I need to be careful...if I use too much the consequences could be catastrophic. I'll start with one sprinkle. The potion should continue to maintain a purple hue...If anything changes I know I'll have added too much."
Carefully scattering the small allotment of moonstone dust she required, she started to stir the potion several times slowly in a clockwise motion and flicked her wand gracefully towards the flame underneath, reducing the conflagration to a steady simmer. Lyra watched anxiously as the potion bubbled and turned a variety of shades as the moonstone dust melded with the other ingredients and let out a sigh of relief as the color eventually settled into a perfect shade of lilac.
"Well then...everything seems to be correct so far. I suppose the only way to find out is in a few days when the potion-"
Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard soft footsteps outside her door. Turning her head quickly around in anticipation, she watched as they stopped, the shadow of a figure blocked the light from the dimly lit hallway that would resonate into her chambers. She held her breath as she waited, the figure standing still for a moment before stepping away, the steps continuing down the hallway and away from her door.
"Tom." she thought to herself as she felt her stomach drop once more. She had held her breath in the hopes he had decided to give in to her demands. "I had hoped he would have given in by now…"
She shook her head and ran her hands through her hair.
"Patience." she reassured herself. "You know the kind of man you're dealing with...and you've placed him in a corner. He wasn't exactly thrilled by the cards you played. He's not going to tell you anything until he feels like he has the upper hand. Be prepared for whatever he throws at you, nothing comes without a price..."
Lyra looked up, distracted, catching a glimpse of her bedraggled appearance in the ornate mirror opposite her. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and berated herself for her slovenly countanounce. "You may be in pain, but that's no excuse for you to look a mess. A hot bath would better your wounds and help clear your mind."
She crossed the room and into the large bathroom, slowly disrobing as she carefully placed her feet into the deep stone tub. The water was still temperate and warm and felt wonderful as she slid her legs further into it. Hesitating for a moment, she slowly eased the rest of her body into the water, holding her breath and clenching her eyes in pain as the water clawed and bit at her stomach. Her breath came out in long ragged gasps as her body slowly became acclimated to the water.
"Take it easy Lyra, you can do this."
Grabbing a sponge, she made her way over the various spouts of shapes and sizes that sat upon the side of the tub and picked a small golden faucet, turning it's handle as it dispensed a fragrant soap with a light pink hue. She gently lathered the soap through her long dark hair and onto her body, taking care to be extra delicate around her lacerations. Once she finished, she placed the sponge aside and delicately held her fingers to her nose, holding in a deep breath as she submerged her head underwater, clearing all the bubbles and suds from her figure. Resurfacing from the water calmly, she raised her hands to pull her hair back from her face, which ran down her shoulders like black ink, while wiping the water from her eyes.
"That feels better…" she thought as she floated to the other side of the tub, wringing her hair and fixing most of it up atop her head in a large knot, while she felt the small beads of water dripping off the shorter tendrils that still clung to her face.
She lay there against the side of the tub for a while, contemplative, as she felt the warm steam of the water rise against her body, her fingers tapping the cool stone as she thought of her interaction with Tom once more.
She watched as he lowered his wand and spoke in a gentle voice. "You know nothing of what I've done. What I've accomplished, what I desire..."
She could only surmise what he had done years, months, days prior to their meeting. She had not lied when she told him he felt like death, for she knew that dark magic not only left physical traces behind but also intangible indications as well. The moment they had met, she had felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge as if to warn her about the man who had entered her presence. Soft spoken and well mannered, Tom seemed to be anything but dangerous and violent tempered at first glance, but her instincts had told her otherwise.
"A wolf in sheep's clothing…" she had thought as he sat opposite her in her tiny quarters in New York, sipping on wine and eyeing her hungrily as if she were prey he intended to devour. Her sneakoscope had gone wild and although she had never much heeded it's warnings and alarms before, they could easily just as well go off for less serious reasons, she knew this time had been different. But still, the man before her had caught her attention and something about him had piqued her interest.
Lyra cursed once more under her breath softly. "Damned your curiosity."
The idea that now she relied on another to help her with what she had tried so grievously to hide for years unsettled her. She tried to abate her fears by reassuring herself that although Tom had witnessed something he should not have, he would not report her to any faction of the wizarding world.
"As he's not applied for any wand permit, I should safely assume that anything he intends to learn here is strictly off the record. That would fit perfectly well with why he needs me so badly. Any knowledge that wouldn't be forbidden he could have easily had access to, it's the old and darker type of magic he's after...but why?"
She laughed softly and shook her head. "Does it really matter to you what he's after? Even if it was for some dark malevolent purpose, would you have rebuffed his request?"
"No." Lyra said softly, responding aloud to the question her mind had asked her.
"There's something about him that felt familiar to me. I don't understand why...I thought maybe perhaps it had to do with that silly dream I've had since I was a child, but not once has there ever been a man or another person to appear to me...only a feeling…"
"...and a serpent."
Lyra snorted cynically. "Oh yes... and a talking snake at that. How ridiculous. You know better than to make life decisions based off of stupid dreams and visions. It's all nonsense. You've known this since before you ever stepped foot into Ilvermorny, how foolish it was to ignore your common sense and especially during times like these! Taking up company with a man you barely know because you felt there was something FAMILIAR about him…"
She shook her head once more as she grew angry at her own folly, standing up slowly and carefully climbing out of the bath. Summoning her wand, she pointed it carefully at herself and gave it a complicated wave as hot air blew out from the tip. Once she had been dried thoroughly, she grabbed her dress and painstakingly pulled it over her body.
A thought struck her as she started to leave the bathroom and she paused, leaning her body against the frame of the doorway. "Perhaps you saw something in Tom that reminded you of yourself and that's where the feelings of familiarity came from."
"No. We are nothing alike...I have reasons for all of my actions. I have not done what I needed to do for self-gain but out of necessity." Lyra angrily strode over to the mirror, taking her hair down and combing it roughly as she continued to think.
"Not everything you've done has been out of necessity. A normal person would have confided in those who might have been able to help, like professional healers. You instead took a different route, you took matters into your own hands and dove deeper into old magic, forbidden magic to get what you wanted. Out of your own arrogance and feelings of self-importance you've damned yourself and your very soul. You are not so different from him."
She bit her lip as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Two mismatched eyes stared back at her, wild and unnatural, below them faint scars from yet another failed venture and her cheeks, once rosy and bright, had begun to take on a hollow and dull appearance. The dark magic she had put her faith in had taken their toll on her looks.
"You enjoy pushing those boundaries of magic just as much as he claims to."
Her cheeks began to flush as she remembered how she had divulged in detail to him of how it felt to take another's life. She had berated him for using his wand rather than his hands, done partially in an attempt to goad him into ending her miserable suffering, but also to get out of him what she had suspected all along. That he, as well as her, had blood on his hands.
"I see no difference."
He had said it softly and so unapologetically. He had not recoiled in disgust or looked at her any differently and had not tried to hide his lack of remorse. It had only reassured her suspicions and for some unknown reason to herself, it muddled her opinion of him even further.
Lyra sat down slowly into her old wooden chair once more, absentmindedly watching the fire in the hearth, dancing and licking away at the bottom of the cauldron.
"I've never told anyone the things I have done, I've fought so hard to keep them a secret. I've removed myself from society, I wear cloaks to disguise my appearance...I've hidden myself to most of the world...But why is it I admit to a man, who I barely know, some of my most intimate feelings and experiences? Why is it I find myself disarmed and reckless around him? It's unlike me."
She sat and tried to produce a reasonable answer, but could come up with none. There was no valid reason to justify her actions or thoughts and she finally decided to relinquish her inquisition and blame it on her ill-health. The time was growing late and her body was weary. She made her way over to the bed and lay down, gingerly pulling the sheets over her body as she traced the ceiling with her eyes, waiting for sleep to come.
Long chapter from Lyra's POV. Really trying hard to NOT have her be a mary sue. She's not perfect and she makes mistakes like everyone else. Not really much to say as I've already started the next chapter, lots of Tom in it so no worries there! Hope you enjoyed, please review, follow & fav!