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.
TRIGGER WARNING: There are parts of this chapter that deal with situations pertaining to sexual harassment.
Tom swore under his breath as he followed Lyra up a side street through the busy and bustling city of New Orleans.
"Frigidus Circium."
He cast another cooling charm over himself as he slowly peeled his jacket off from his body and started to roll up his sleeves. The air was hot and humid and seemed to cling to him, his attempts at keeping it at bay remained fruitless as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He never experienced such an oppressive climate in his life and found it difficult to understand why anyone would resign themselves to live in such a place.
The streets were boisterous and loud, filled with crowds of muggles who lined the pavements as they bantered loudly amongst themselves. The sounds of music permeated the air as horse drawn carts and motor vehicles passed back and forth through the cobblestone roads. Despite the dynamic fervour that filled the city, he noticed the faint traces of magic that seemed to crackle in the air around him.
Lyra looked over her shoulder and amusingly watched as Tom removed his jacket and rolled his sleeves. She stifled a laugh as she noticed the beads of sweat accumulating across his forehead
"That'll teach him for disregarding my advice…"
A soft breeze hit her face as she slowed her pace down to match his, continuing to walk calmly next to him.
"We're lucky today is a little cooler than normal, I've been here on days where it was too hot to even breath."
Tom scowled at her as he finished rolling up his sleeve, his shirt sticking to his chest uncomfortably as he felt a bead of sweat drop from his forehead. "I fail to see why anyone would want to live here in these conditions, surrounded by the heat and-"
He paused as a group of people rudely passed between them, talking and laughing amongst themselves without even offering an apology. "-filthy muggles." he finished softly.
Lyra smirked as she heard his last statement, she had surmised earlier that he was not entirely fond of the non-wizarding kind but he had never confirmed her suspicions until now. She shielded her eyes from the overbearing sun, looking ahead of them. "Tradition...amongst other reasons."
They started to walk down the street once more, walking in silence, passing a few shops and local businesses until she raised her hand towards a small strange looking boutique at the end of the street. Tom's gaze followed her hand until his eyes rested on its faded and weather-worn light pink awning and wooden sign that hung over the door. He read the sign carefully as he furrowed his brows in confusion.
"Madame Marie's Voodoo Shop?" he said gently as he looked towards Lyra, keeping pace with her as she sauntered next him leisurely.
"No-Maj's will do anything to try to solve their problems." She said pausing on the street corner. "Tourists and locals spend lots of money on baubles and trinkets that promise them luck in love, money or health-none of the things they buy are actually magical of course, but it does put a healthy profit into some wizarding pockets."
"Wizards run these shops?" He said incredulously as a look of disgust crossed his face. "How could one degrade themselves in such a manner, catering to muggles?"
Lyra shrugged her shoulders as they crossed the intersection and continued down the busy street. The heat blistered off her brow as she reached into her purse and summoned two flasks, handing one of them to Tom. She watched his face frown disapprovingly and laughed. "It's not firewhisky this time, just water. It's easy to get dehydrated with all this humidity."
He begrudgingly took the flask, uncorking it as he took a sip and continued to listen.
"Most wizards do have reputable shops, scattered across the city which are only recognizable to those like us…but New Orleans is a strange place Tom and many have learned to take advantage of the lack of...supervision here.."
"Does MACUSA not have jurisdiction over New Orleans?" Tom asked curiously as he placed the flask in his pocket.
"Of course they do, but New Orleans is a little more complex than other places in North America-they're pretty set in their ways and there's too much going on here to keep track of everything. MACUSA only gets involved in serious matters."
"Why would a wizard or witch ever want any business with muggles?" He asked silkily, trying to hide his disdain.
"I've already told you." Lyra said wryly as she glanced at him, her eyebrow raised in skepticism. "Money."
"It's disgraceful." He said repugnantly as he looked around at the crowds of people that walked past them.
"It's a livelihood." Lyra said dryly as she took a sip from her flask, shaking her hand in his direction as she continued. "Not everyone shares your sentiments Tom and we don't have a class based system like you do. All wizards here are mostly pure-blood, but we can't rely on our names and ancestry to get us ahead in life, our lineage means nothing. It all comes down to one thing here-Wealth. We don't fraternize with no-maj's much here, but many will take their money if the opportunity arises. New Orleans has survived this long because of it and some of the richest and most affluent wizards of North America have grown up right here on these streets."
She waved her hand around at the people that crowded the old cobble-stoned streets, the musicians that played up against the side of buildings and on the corners and towards the people drinking and eating happily on their outdoor balconies that overlooked them all. "There are wizards among us even now, everyone blends in here Tom. The only secrets this city holds are far beneath its surface."
He looked at her and paused momentarily before responding. "Doesn't it seem unwise to you that everything is so-mixed here? Surely there have been problems?"
She paused at the street corner, waiting patiently as a horse drawn buggy passed before them. "Rarely. Most no-majs down here are either tourists, looking for a good time and too inebriated to concern themselves in others affairs or they are local and embrace the culture in which they live. Nothing is strange to them here."
He nodded as he thought about what she had said earlier. "It makes sense that most American witches would be pureblood due to their strict segregation policies…so that would mean-"
He hesitated to ask, annoyed that he should even give her reason to think he cared to know, but felt inclined to ask the question anyway. "So in regards to what you said earlier, you would be a pure-blood then?"
Lyra stared blankly ahead as she walked, her light-hearted disposition gone, her voice suddenly emotionless. "It would be my guess...My mother was pure-blooded...but I never knew my father and she never mentioned him, so I'm only left to assume."
Tom studied her face before he looked away, her eyes refused to meet his. "The topic seems uncomfortable to you, my apologies, it was indelicate of me to ask-"
She cut him off abruptly, her voice cold and distant. "It doesn't matter. I put that ghost to rest a long time ago. I never cared enough to find out, it made no difference as to-"
He looked at her, carefully digesting her words when suddenly they were interrupted by a man who stumbled towards them, reeking of alcohol and sweat. His clothes were stained and he stumbled out from a bar into the sidewalk, a rowdy group of men following him, laughing. He interrupted their conversation as he eyed Lyra, his eyes full of something that Tom recognized.
"Look at this one right here guys." The young man gestured to his friend, holding a can of beer as he pointed towards Lyra. "Why pay to stare at those broads in there-" He said as he motioned towards her, his friends laughing as he continued to harass her. "-when there are better looking ones out here that you can look at for free."
The man walked right in front of them as he spilled his beer sloppily on the pavement before their feet.
Lyra tried to step impatiently around him but he put his arm out in front of her blocking the way.
"Move." She exclaimed icily as she stared at the man's beady black eyes, trying to hold in her disgust as she noticed the sweat and spittle on his shirt.
"Where ya goin' little lady? Why don't you give me one hour sweetheart, it'll be the best you've ever had." The man grinned as he wobbled in front of her, smiling as his friends egged him on.
Lyra rolled her eyes as she tried to step once more around the man, and looked towards Tom suddenly as she felt him tense up beside her. His face remained expressionless, but she could see the tip of his wand poking out from his side, clutched firmly in his hand and pointed at the man.
"Come on Tom." She whispered as she tried to pull him along. "We're wasting time and our first stop is right up the street."
"What you think you're too good for me?" The man slurred angrily as he pointed to Tom.
"This bitch must only love pretty boys." He turned towards Tom, stumbling backwards as he tried to maintain his balance, the beer spilling onto his shirt.
"Tell you what, you give me an hour with her and I'll let you watch." The man said as he gestures in Tom's direction, still laughing.
Tom stepped forward as his face distorted angrily. "You filthy mug-"
"Tom."
He felt her grab his arm calmly and gave her a murderous look. "This filth needs to be dealt with."
She shook her head and beckoned him to follow her. "Let's go. We don't have time for this."
He felt his body relax as he looked at her soft face, her eyes surprisingly calm. He grasped his wand tightly and reluctantly followed her as they stepped around the belligerent man, trying to put distance between them. They had only made it ten feet before they heard him call out once more towards them, this time in anger.
"Forget it, you can keep her! She's not that pretty anyway and it'll take more than a little action to warm that icy bitch's bed!"
They heard cackling behind them as the men spilled out onto the street, patting their friend on the back as they walked in the opposite direction. Tom, his blood boiling, turned towards Lyra and raised his wand in retaliation, but stopped when he noticed she had already pulled her own out.
She looked towards the men and flicked her wand carefully muttering a curse under her breath.
"Oculus Dispareo!"
She waited for a moment until she heard the man scream and smiled, tucking her wand back into her dress and smoothing out a wrinkle in the fabric.
"I CAN'T SEE!" He heard the man cry out from the distance, holding his face as he sank to the pavement, his friends gathering around him as they tried to figure out what had happened.
Tom turned towards Lyra as she continued to walk, smiling to herself and asked curiously "What did you do?"
"A little curse I invented a long time ago, though I haven't had a reason to use it for a long time. He tried to take my dignity, so I took his eyesight. Seemed fair. He won't be looking or talking to any women in that manner for a long time."
He looked back towards the man lying in the street screaming and grimaced. "You let him off easy."
She looked towards Tom, his expression amused and laughed at the delight on his face. "Maybe I did. Thank you by the way for your concern earlier."
"It was only a reaction to the moment." He said as he tried to dismiss her words. "Which you obviously had no problem in dealing with yourself, although the spell lingering on my mind would have proven more unfortunate for him."
"I can only imagine." She half smiled at him as they passed a group of people who were strangely dressed in mismatching outfits.
"Wizards no doubt." he surmised, as he heard them whispering amongst themselves about what had transpired before their eyes and nodded in approval towards Lyra before slowly turning around.
"You know what I love about the wizarding community in New Orleans?" She said, a grin spreading across her face.
"What would that be." He answered dryly as he sipped from the water flask again.
"I can tell you already what I dislike about the city itself." He thought to himself as he shuffled his suitcase to another hand, wiping the previous one riddled with sweat against his side.
She rounded the corner at the street and came to a stop in front of an old abandoned coffee house. "Everyone minds their own damned business here."
He smirked as he looked towards the shop before them, boarded up and seemingly empty. "Seeing that you just cursed a man in broad daylight, I'll take your word for it."
Lyra gave him an amused little smile as she approached the barred doors, and tapped her wand against it quickly. She stood back as the door unlocked and pushed in inwards, beckoning Tom to follow her inside. As they stepped through the crumbling entrance, Tom stared in amazement at the scene that unfolded before his eyes. They were inside a busy cafe, filled with multitudes of witches and wizards, sipping their coffee and eating delicious smelling their right he observed an older wizard, dressed well with a neat little beard, puffing steadily on his old pipe as sipped from his mug, reading the latest edition of The New York Ghost.
He grinned slightly, the cafe reminded him of the first time he had stepped into The Leaky Cauldron. "This place smells far better..."
His musings were interrupted by Lyra who motioned towards an open door opposite them.
"I need to sit for a moment to think about where we need to start." Lyra said as she walked towards an open door at the end of the shop, the sun shining brightly into the cafe from the streets that lay beyond. "With any luck there'll be a table open outside for us."
He followed her out of the cafe and felt the warm air hit his face as he entered a part of magical New Orleans. The small establishment spilled out onto the open pavement with a few delicately placed tables outside its doors encompassed by a black wrought iron gate to separate it from the street. The windows of the cafe were surrounded by an array of magical plants that bloomed inside flower boxes underneath the open shutters. The street itself was cobble-stoned as it had been outside in the muggle world; the shops and businesses that lined its corridor remind him once more of Diagon Alley, each one magical and fascinating as their wares spilled out onto the crooked walkways.
"This little part of New Orleans is known as Rue dues Merveilles " Lyra said delicately in french as she sat down at a vacant table outside the cafe, motioning for Tom to sit down across from her.
"The road of wonder." He exclaimed softly.
"You speak French?" She said, looking surprised.
"Not well, but I can get by on what little I do understand." He said as he ran a hand through his dark hair.
Not much longer after they had placed their belongings down, a small neatly dressed house elf appeared before them and placed some napkins and cutlery on the table, her voice high and squeaky.
"Could I interest you in anything to drink?"
Lyra stared at the small creature, a polite smile on her face as she placed her order. "Yes please. A cup of coffee-black if you wouldn't mind and two beignets."
The small elf looked at Tom as a quill and parchment appeared out of nowhere and scribbled down Lyras order, she stared at him expectantly as he deliberated.
"Nothing for me...thank you."
Lyra looked at him curiously as she glanced towards the house elf. "He'll have a cup of tea with some cream and sugar. On the side please if you wouldn't mind."
She gave the elf a few dragots as it nodded in agreement, suddenly disappearing, Lyra laughed as she saw Tom stare at her disapprovingly.
"If I wanted tea I would have asked." he said softly, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
"If you wanted a beignet I'm sure you would have asked as well, but either way I ordered both for you and I would recommend you eat. Who knows the next time either of us will have a chance to relax or enjoy a moderate meal."
He frowned as he shook his head. "I don't need you to pay for my food or lodgings. I'm quite capable of attending to my own needs."
She laughed as their drinks and food appeared suddenly before them, grasping the mug as she slowly brought it to her lips. "So it makes you uncomfortable that I pay for your food and board but not when I turn into a nightmarish creature. You are a strange one Mr. Riddle, I'll give you that…"
"I'm not accustomed to receiving charity.." He said resentfully as he looked down at the cup of tea before him, pouring a drop of cream into the glass as he stirred in a bit of sugar.
"As of a few nights ago, I consider nothing I do for you as a charity." she said softly as she broke up one of the pastries with her finger, shaking the excess sugar off of it as she placed it into her mouth.
"I owe you quite a bit Tom. Whether you realize it or not. You've given me a chance to sort through my-situation-without distraction. I'm quite grateful for it, despite the hoops you made me jump through to get it."
He sat silent as he sipped on his tea, narrowing his eyes at her as he carefully chose his reply. "You speak as if you hold no grudge towards me."
"If I held a grudge you would know it." She gave a little half laugh as she sipped her tea once more. "I'm not pleased with your knowledge of the situation, but I'm willing to place those feelings aside. You must know though, money means nothing to me. I pay for all of our endeavors not because I am forced to or out of pity, but because I have it and it's of no use to me sitting idly in a bag collecting dust."
"...And how did you manage to amass such wealth?" He asked curiously as he broke off a piece of the strange pastry and placed into his mouth, surprised at its delightful taste.
She sipped her coffee as she stared down the street. "I worked hard my whole life to be successful. If you're good at something you don't do it for free."
"So what exactly was your profession?" He asked as he stared at her intently, irritated with his strange interest in her life that had seemingly grown over the past months.
Lyra narrowed her eyes at him before looking down at her glass, tapping it with her finger. "Before I answer that, I feel inclined to ask why it is that you are so poor?"
She was met with silence as she heard him place his cup down softly and looked up towards him curiously. His face remained emotionless, but she watched his jaw clench in agitation.
"You see Tom, I find it quite alarming that you already know so much about me and ask for more, yet I do not know anything about you." She tapped her finger impatiently against the cup as she smiled. "I can see your talent and your ambition and I find it hard to understand why someone such as yourself has not found the same success as I had."
Tom stared at her for a moment before replying softly. "Perhaps I measure success differently than you."
"Perhaps…" Lyra said as she eyed him curiously. "But that still doesn't answer my previous statement."
He let out a chuckle as he looked at her innocently. "You are unyielding. There's nothing that I've done in my life that could possibly interest you."
"Or that I would even consider telling you about." He thought to himself dryly as he thought back on his lineage, his accomplishments and his horcruxes. "But in the past few days her trust has proven to be more of an aid than a hindrance."
"I highly doubt that." She said as she looked at him, her eyes filled with suspicion. She sighed as she shrugged her shoulders. "Have it your way then."
She crossed her legs impatiently and sipped on her tea as a heavy silence filled the air between them.
"Enough of the idle chatter, I need to figure out where we can find accomodations and after that will come the tricky part. Let's hope my fortunes have changed since-"
"I grew up in an orphanage, which as you could imagine left me with little to start with."
She suddenly looked towards him, shocked that he had shared something personal with her. Her eyes softened as she tried to meet his own, which were now steadily focused on the crowds that passed them in the street.
"I'm sorry to hear that." She said, biting her lip in discomfort. She felt an inward tugging at her heart as she opened her mouth to reply once more. "I-"
"Lyra Leroux. I can't believe my eyes, is that really you?"
She heard a voice, deep and familiar, from outside the gate call out her name and she felt her insides burn angrily at the sound of it.
Well this Chapter took me a little longer than the last to write, I really do love New Orleans as a place and I want to definitely do it some justice. Sorry to anyone who might have found the sexual harassment scene triggering. I tried to keep it PG-13ish and not remotely over the top but it shows that Lyra can definitely hold her own when it comes to whatever life has to throw at her. Her own invention of an evil curse says a little about her personality. I really don't have a lot of commentary on this chapter, except that I do think that places like wizarding New Orleans would definitely have found ways to profit off of their magic.
Spells of my invention:
Frigidus Circium- an atmospheric cooling spell
Oculus Dispareo- a curse to remove ones eyesight, rendering them blind
Thank you for all the reviews and follows! For all of you who haven't already please review, follow and fav if you enjoy the story!