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.
"Damnit." Lyra muttered under her breath as she exited the dark and dingy atmosphere of a shop into the hot New Orleans air, mentally crossing it off her list. "I've been at this for a day and a half now and I've yet to find out where she's been hiding now-a-days…I've visited over ten different businesses that I knew over the past that have been linked to her and I've gotten nothing."
She frowned in frustration as she sat down on a nearby bench, grabbing a flask filled with water and raising it up to her lips, cursing the heat silently in her head. Usually the weather wouldn't have had an effect on her mood, but between recent events and her mounting failures trying to find the only person in New Orleans she knew who would be able to assist them, her patience was wearing thin. "If it wasn't for the approaching holiday, I'm sure this wouldn't be half as difficult."
The city was bustling and crowds of people lined the streets, elaborate flowers adorned every balcony, ribbons were wrapped around wrought iron fences and draped around street shops whose window displays were covered in altars of blue and white candles. Lyra watched as people laughed and smiled as they walked past her, full of happiness and joy as they went about their lives and she frowned bitterly, wishing she could remember the last time she had been as ignorantly blissful. A man walked past her, tall and pale with dark features and she frowned as her mind quickly went to a place where she wished it hadn't. She watched as he smiled and walked over to the sidewalk where a young witch and child waited, waving at him eagerly.
"I wonder if I was too harsh on Tom…"
She rolled her eyes and stood up, walking aimlessly down the street as she fed into her nagging thoughts.
"No. You only spoke the truth. If he continues to act so recklessly, you might never get a chance to be normal again...There's no time for all these little mishaps in between. It's counterproductive to everything you both seek."
She wandered along the street and scowled as she looked towards the shop in front of her, narrowing her eyes at the golden woodwork around it's windows, the building lavender and luxurious, its storefront filled with various wands that sparked and flew around behind the glass. Her gaze moved towards the old wooden placard that hung above its doorway, neatly painted, its elegant script wrapped around itself.
"Beauvais' Wands, Handcrafted & Handmade in New Orleans, Circa 1900."
A sprawling script scribbled itself across the window as it flashed and disappeared, re-writing itself in an infinite loop. "Why try the rest, when you could have the best?"
Lyra muttered in disdain as she continued down the street, her hand reaching in towards her pocket as she grasped her mother's wand. She had made more than enough money after she had graduated Ilvermorny to buy herself a wand that would have belonged to only herself alone, but for some odd reason she never had. Instead, she found herself making excuses, avoiding the various wand shops across the country, holding tightly onto a wand that fought her every instinct.
"It's gotten me this far, hasn't it?"
She stopped as a nagging curiosity rose in her gut and she turned to look around at the wand shop once more, narrowing her eyes as she walked hesitantly back towards it. "Violet Beauvais is one of the most influential witches in all of New Orleans...I wonder…"
As she approached the beautifully ornate door to the shop, she grabbed the golden doorknob and paused, holding her breath before she turned it gently and pushed the door inwards, entering the small boutique. Lyra looked around at her surroundings, the shop was neat and clean, the floors polished and shining brilliantly against the sunlight that beamed across it from outside the busy glass windows. The walls were neatly stacked with small golden boxes that seemed to go on endlessly, wands zooming in and out of each one as she heard a voice with a heavy New Orleans' accent call out to her.
"I'll be down in a moment! Help yourself to some water and touch NOTHING."
Lyra watched as a glass pitcher set atop a small table covered in white lace and crushed velvet poured its contents into a small cup, which floated over delicately to her. She shook her hand towards it dismissively as she looked at a dark wooden spiral staircase before her, her eyes tracing it's delicate shape upwards to see where the voice had come from. Without hesitation, she placed one foot onto the staircase, prepared to climb it when a small golden picture frame to right caught her attention. As she tried to lean closer to make out whom the portrait was of, she felt a small droplet of water hit her face and turned around, rolling her eyes as the floating glass clumsily bumped up against her head for attention. She waved it away in frustration.
"If only they would make bewitching inanimate objects illegal, the world would be a less irritating place. Not everything needs to be done with magic."
She scoffed and looked back towards the photo, tilting her head curiously. It was old, the paper of the photograph crinkled and aged and showed a large group of wizards and witches, smiling and waving their hands towards her.
"The creme de la creme of New Orleans society." Lyra mused. "...or at least what used to be."
She moved closer to look at the faces and focused on the woman in the middle, tall and beautiful, with high cheekbones and dark skin, her hair elegantly styled atop her head, a silk scarf woven throughout it as bright and colorful as the robes she donned. Lyra's eyes glanced over some of the other wizards, the men all middle-aged with neat little beards, handsomely dressed in suits and top hats, sneering condescendingly at her, while her gaze finally settling on a smaller woman towards the side, her skin dark and smooth as well, wearing robes of the lightest purple, her hair arranged in neat ringlets that cascaded down from her head. She smiled as she held a few gold boxes in one hand and a wand in the other.
"That must be-" Thoughts interrupted, Lyra stifled a slew of profanities as she suddenly felt water run down her back and turned around angrily, whipping her wand out to finally rid herself of the troublesome glass of water and stopped when she found herself eye to eye with the famed owner of the wand shop herself, Violetta Beauvais.
The small witch raised an eyebrow as she looked at Lyra, raising her wand towards the glass and watching as it returned to the small table behind them. "How can I help you?"
Lyra glanced over the witch as she recognized the familiar light purple robes and the head of wild hair that hung around her head like a loose fitting crown, while she carefully chose her words. "I'm looking for someone. Being as important and influential as you are in this community, I wondered if you would be able to point me in the right direction."
Sucking her teeth in disapproval she looked at Lyra matter-of-factly and spoke once more. "Introductions before demands my dear... and you are?"
She observed the older witch, her waist had expanded slightly, her dark hair speckled with gray, but she was still the same pretty woman from the photograph. Watching and stepping aside suddenly as a slew of boxes and wands zoomed past her face, she spoke quietly. "My name is Lyra... forgive me if assume correctly that you are-"
"Ms. Violetta Beauvais." The witch said as she raised an eyebrow hautely, placing a hand on her hip.
"Right." Lyra said as she crossed her arms before her and tapped an impatient finger against her arm. "Back to my question earlier, I was wondering-"
The witch seemed to disregard her words as she turned around and placed a few boxes back to where they had come from, waving her hand dismissively towards Lyra as she spoke. "Your wand Lyra. It is not one of mine...although, I have a feeling it does not belong to you."
Lyra eyed the witch carefully as she tapped her finger on her arm once more. "It was my mother's." She felt her insides burn angrily at her own response.
"I see…" The small witch said as she walked towards Lyra, her eyes twinkling with a condescending smugness. "May I?" She pointed towards Lyra's wand with a smooth dark hand.
"I hardly see why that's necessary." Lyra said coldly as she tightened her grip on her wand.
The small witch shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. "Now if you're going to be difficult you can leave, you know where the door is."
Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she slowly relaxed her grasp on the piece of wood and held it out to Ms. Beauvais reluctantly. The older witch smiled and quickly scooped it from her hands holding it out as she inspected it carefully, pulling a strange looking monocle out of her pocket and placing it over her right eye, tweaking it as she held the wand closer to her face, muttering to herself. "Mhmm..Aha. I thought so. Very strange indeed. Not often you see one of these."
Ms. Beauvais placed the monocle back into her pocket and placed the wand back gingerly into Lyra's outstretched hand.
"Not often you see one of what?" Lyra said, raising her eyebrow skeptically.
"That right there is a Quintana wand. Very rare indeed...only a few left seeing that he's dead. I myself have only seen a few in my life."
"I hardly see that a piece of wood-"
"Wood? Oh no my dear that is not only wood." Ms. Beauvais said as she laughed at Lyra. "That wand is made from bone as well...a spine from the White River Monster."
Lyra looked down at the wand in her hand and placed it back into her pocket quickly.
"Intriguing. Now then back to what I was saying earlier-"
"Impressive wand indeed, but for you my dear, it is not correct at all. I can feel a lot of energy radiating from you and that wand simply won't do. Now let me see, I think I have a few wands lying about that might suit you perfectly…"
Lyra lost her patience as the witch suddenly disappeared and she sucked her teeth in agitation. "I don't have time for all of this nonsense."
Ms. Beauvais reappeared again above the top of the spiral staircase, motioning for Lyra to follow. "Up here girl. Quickly now."
Lyra rolled her eyes and made her way up the staircase, looking at all of the old photographs that lined the wall, when she saw another that immediately caught her attention. She watched as a portrait of the young wandmaker smiled at her and nodded her head, laughing and holding a woman next to her, the same woman she had seen in the photograph downstairs, tall and stately, her hair wrapped up in elegant fabric that made her cheekbones even stronger. She quickly took the photograph off the wall and continued upstairs at Ms. Beauvais' insistence.
Once at the top of the landing, the witch grabbed her and suddenly placed a wand into her open hand, clasping her palms together eagerly. "Try this one! A bit bendy I know, but it might be perfect for you!"
Lyra placed the wand down carefully as she held the photograph out towards Ms. Beauvais."This is who I seek. From this photograph it appears to me that you are quite close with her. Can you help me?"
The witch frowned as her smile faded, looking into Lyra's strange eyes. "So this is who you seek, I'm not surprised. I sense a great darkness in you child. A darkness that might not be made better by being acquainted with such a person. I cannot help you."
Lyra's face soured at the witches refusal. "You can't help me or you won't?"
Sighing as she sat down in an elegant chair next to a small desk, she looked at Lyra curiously. "If I could help you, it wouldn't be of any use. She does not entertain visitors often and when she does, they are required to present her with certain trinkets, objects of desire. I doubt you hold anything that she might want."
Lyra stared at the woman before her. "That is neither here nor there. All I am asking of you is to point me in her direction. If she refuses me then that is on my own head."
Ms. Beauvais sighed and chuckled softly, creases forming at the corner of her eyes as she smiled at Lyra. "You're a persistent one."
"So I've been told."
"It's only because I admire those qualities that I'll help you...for a price."
Lyra rolled her eyes. "It always comes down to a bargain. Why am I not surprised?"
"Name your price. I assure you I can pay it."
The woman smiled at her as she chuckled once more. "I'm not interested in lump sums. I have enough money to last a lifetime."
"If not money, what is it that you want?"
"It is a matter of pride." Ms. Beauvais said as she stood up and walked towards the small pile of golden boxes that she had arranged neatly onto her desk as she walked over towards the wand Lyra had placed aside and set it down neatly into a velvet lined box, closing the lid gently. "I have seen many wizards and witches and I have sold many wands, but to let someone who possesses such natural inclinations as you out of my shop without a purchase, isn't acceptable to me."
"I have a wand already." Lyra said flatly, looking at the boxes in front of her. "I'm in no need of another."
"Yes, you have A wand." The witch continued as she waved her hand dismissively towards her once more. "But not a wand that is suited to you, to your capabilities."
Lyra remained silent as she considered the proposition. "Don't be foolish. This is the only person who's entertained your request and the price is nothing compared to what you were willing to pay...to let this slip by because of sheer sentiment-"
"My work is my life and I take great pride in the accomplishments my wands have achieved." Ms. Beauvais sniffed as she looked at her, waiting for an answer.
She let out a sigh of exasperation as she nodded stiffly in agreement, watching as the wandmaker clasped her hands together in joy.
"The location first, please." Lyra said as she tapped her finger on a box impatiently.
"Of course, of course, but I must warn you again of her fickle nature. Even I have been turned away on occasion, simply because she did not feel like it. Make sure you do not go empty handed." Ms. Beauvais whipped her wand out and waved it elegantly at her desk and Lyra watched as a small quill dipped itself into ink and scribbled gently onto a small piece of parchment, which rolled itself up and floated towards Lyra, who read it and nodded, placing it carefully into her purse.
"Now then," she said as she pulled Lyra up from her seat and placed a small, black delicate wand in her hands. "Let's try this one first shall we?"
Tom ran his hands through his hair as he leaned back in the small chair in his bare desolate room, placing the book he had been reading down before him. He flexed his jaw in frustration as he looked out the window that he had kept open, the sun casting its rays onto the old warped wooden floor.
"I know she had said she wouldn't return for a few days...but I had hoped she would have returned by now."
The second day was almost at a close and he found himself growing increasingly impatient as he frittered his time away in his room, waiting for her return. If it were under any other circumstance he would have been out in the open air, exploring the city and entertaining his whims, but he knew her trust and aid was more valuable to him, her conditions made clear before she had left.
"If you want to prove to me that trust can live between us, do not leave this room until I come back."
He let out a small laugh at his self-inflicted punishment as he stood up from the table, beginning to pace around the room. "How would she even know if I left?" He walked over to the dreary looking door and pulled it open, raising his wand carefully. "Perhaps she's placed a few spells that would alert her should I step outside these doors."
"Specialis Revelio." He murmured as he flicked his wand towards the door frame and waited in anticipation. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion when nothing happened and walked through the door hesitantly, feeling the warm sun on his face. He laughed again at the sheer absurdity of her trust and felt his smile fade as the moment passed and looked around the outside walkway his room was on.
There were two rooms across a large fifty foot gap that sat between them, a third room directly next to his, a warped wooden pathway connecting them all that led to two staircases, one upwards and one down. He peered over the railing that prevented him from falling into the large square crevice and glanced down.
There were many floors that lay stacked beneath him, each identical to his, that led downwards and gave off the appearance of an old, winding staircase. Ten flights down on the ground floor in the center of them all, lay a large courtyard surrounded by flowers and benches, Tom could make out a few witches and wizards as they walked in and out of the garden. As he tilted his head upwards and leaned over the railing, he could make out three additional floors above them, the sunlight blinding his vision as he quickly looked away.
"What a peculiar place…"
He scowled as he thought back to Lyra's folly, unable to understand why she had left his room without laying a charm or spell to inform her of his deceit.
"Perhaps not all was lost in my carelessness." He said to himself as he pushed himself up off the railing, walking back into his room as he closed the door gently behind him.
"Since my future endeavors in this country depend on whether she believes she can trust me or not, I must remain in this room and bide my time, despite my every urge to defy her…"
He looked to the desk and saw his wand laying perfectly still, the sunlight gleaming off it's smooth white surface. Walking over and picking it up carefully, he twirled it around his fingers, lost in meditation until he smiled, opening his suitcase and placing it carefully inside.
"Still...not all is a waste. I have things I can preoccupy my time with..."
He closed his eyes and thought back to their impromptu lesson on the train and tried to recreate the electrifying feeling that had consumed his body as he silently summoned the book over from the table to his hand. He smirked as he looked down, placing it back over on the table and tried it once more successfully, pleased to find that he had finally mastered summoning objects without the aid of his wand.
"Perhaps something a little more difficult now…"
Tom focused on the candles above him in the room as he felt the magic around him slowly course through his body and waved his hand, watching them all light one by one. He smiled as he waved his hand once more, expecting them to extinguish just as quickly and let out a frustrated growl as the candles suddenly burst, spraying wax all over the room. Wiping the residue from his face he scowled and thought back to what Lyra has said, closing his eyes, as he let out a deep breath.
"Try it one more time. I told you this takes practice. It's frustrating...but you just have to keep at it."
"Scourgify!" He mouthed silently, feeling the tips of his fingers tingle with electricity. Opening his eyes slowly, a small laugh escaped his lips as he looked around the now neat and clean room, free of the candle debri.
A wave of dizziness suddenly hit his body and he sat down on the bed, carefully leaning against the headboard as he waited for it to pass.
"That damned poison, my body is taking longer to heal from than I thought it would…"
He leaned his head back as he recounted his progress with wandless magic, feeling pleased with himself. A small bird landed on the window and looked at Tom while it hopped around, cheerfully tweeting and whistling as it basked in the sunlight. He tried to ignore the noise, instead focusing on his accomplishments.
"To think I almost thought it out of reach…" Tom recounted how he had almost given up on the train, his embarrassment and anger when the talent had not come to him naturally, like so many others things had done and how she had forced him to continue. He grimaced as he found his thoughts straying back to her once more and found himself unable to concentrate on anything else. He smirked as he stared at his hands and muttered another small incantation under his breath, watching as the small bird suddenly stopped chirping and fell to the floor lifeless.
"Lyra, you have no idea how valuable you've started to become to me..."
Hey all! Sorry this chapter took a little longer to post than the last few have, it's been a long week. Parts of this chapter were super fun to write (ie: Lyra's whole experience in the wand shop with Violetta Beauvais), some parts came a little harder for me. Soon we'll get to meet the "she" Lyra keeps referring to and Tom will get to leave his room ;). Little memo on the last few lines of this chapter, I had to throw something terrible in there to remind everyone that this is NOT a redemption story for Tom, although occasionally charming, he's still cruel and calculating and is still destined to become Voldemort. That being said, hope you guys enjoyed it!
Thank you to everyone who started following! For those of you who have just hopped aboard with reading, don't forget to follow, fav & review!
Amelia - Thank you for your kind review! I always try to update at least once a week, so stay tuned! Thank you so much for your feedback, I appreciate it so much, it's very motivating!
xxx