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.
"What did you do?" Lyra whirled around to face him. They had disapparated and apparated more times than he could count, their feet only touching the earth for a few seconds each time before she violently whisked them away again.
Tom rubbed his face in exhaustion and stared at the back of his hand, still covered in blood from their encounter in the bayou. He ignored her question momentarily and instead took a look around at their surroundings, the scenery strikingly different from the bayou. They were in the woods again, only this time the trees were scattered, the forest not as dense as the other climates she had taken him to and the dirt and grass under his feet crunched unnaturally, as if it hadn't seen rain for months.
"Tom."
She called out to him once more, her voice less angry, but still dripping with discontent. He clenched his jaw, furious for a brief moment that he had been caught off guard, Madam Celestin not only catching him red-handed but also inadvertently ruining his chances of keeping the stone a secret. As he looked down at his blood covered skin and clothing, he caught a glimpse of the black serpent upon his forearm and frowned.
"I've been left with no choice but to tell her…"
"She had something that didn't belong to her. I rectified the situation."
"Something that didn't belong to her? Like what?" She said irritably, her voice trembling.
Tom hesitantly placed his pale hand into his pocket and pulled out the glowing emerald gem, holding it out for her to see.
"Is that a-"
"Horned serpents gem. Yes."
Lyra stared at it intently, her eyes focused on the large stone. "I never thought I'd see one in person." She frowned and quickly averted her gaze from the jewel, narrowing her eyes. "It's illegal to hunt horned serpents."
"Tell that to Madam Celestin. I don't think she cared."
She sighed and rubbed her arms. "That's besides the point. Is that what all of this was about? You risked both of our lives for something so-"
"Extraordinary." He finished coldly.
Lyra stared at him for a moment and felt her insides roil, the feeling intensifying as the black mark upon her arm burned, still sore from the ritual. She turned away from him immediately, afraid of losing control over her emotions and started to walk away from the woods and into the night, towards a dirt road that wound effortlessly alongside a small creek.
Tom hesitantly followed, keeping a short distance between them as they continued to walk on, the silence between them deafening. "She's angry. While I acknowledge her concerns are valid, I could not leave without it."
After a short distance she came to a stop in front of a barren field, the dry vegetation looking tired, its appearance grey and dried, the dirt under their feet dry and parched. A small broken stump lay before them, oddly out of place given the lack of trees in the clearing. Tom approached from behind and gazed at her quietly, taking his place at her side, watching the exhaustion and irritation pull at her face.
"Where are we?" He spoke softly as she pulled out her wand and tapped the stump three times, watching as a flickering mirage of a deserted town appeared before them momentarily, it's buildings ramshackled and dilapidated. Tom narrowed his eyes as the town's silhouette suddenly wavered, disappearing once more and he watched as Lyra took a step forward cautiously, placing one foot in front of the other, until she too vanished out of thin air through what seemed like an invisible wall.
He hesitated for a moment, watching her arm protrude out from behind the transparent sheet, motioning for him to follow. Holding his hand out cautiously, he reached out before him and watched his fingers disappear, a cold feeling stinging at them from the other side and he pulled it back quickly, staring at his pale hand before finally walking forward.
"
The feeling could have only been described as walking through a waterfall in the dead of winter, the gooseflesh upon his body prickling as he crossed the unseen threshold.
"Bitter Creek. Texas." She replied curtly, still refusing to look at his face. "This way."
The small streets were made of dust and dry dirt, small tumbleweeds rolling along the ground as the broken down buildings creaked and groaned in the night.
"Texas?"
"We needed somewhere safe to go. A place where Madam Celestin and her associates can't find us while I decide where I'm going next."
"Where you're going next?" He asked, repeating what she had said. Lyra ignored him and continued to walk through the old town, the dirt crunching softly underneath her as she walked.
"She won't follow us."
Lyra turned her head slightly at his words, pausing momentarily before she picked up her pace, replying coldly. "Why is that?"
"She would not risk antagonizing someone who knew her secrets. It would jeopardize her entire livelihood."
Lyra stopped in front of a small house with a wrap around porch, its blue paint peeling off the wood as she made her way carefully up the stairs. "And what secrets would that be?"
Tom followed her up the stairs, the wood groaning under his feet. "Her age, she's been killing others and assuming their identities for years to preserve her youth and power...amongst a slew of other things..."
"And why would she do that?" Lyra asked skeptically, holding her wand before her, a small light shining from it's tip as she reached for the door and opened it, the black still of the house meeting them.
"I would think the answer would be obvious to you." Tom replied sarcastically. "She can reside over New Orleans for as long as possible without people growing suspicious of her age, I'm sure if you give it a few years Madam Celestin as you knew her will cease to exist and a new figurehead will emerge with a new face and a new name...her shopkeeper Alarie perhaps?"
"If that's true, I'm afraid she'll have to look elsewhere. I killed Alarie."
Tom felt his heart skip a beat, elated by her admission. "I'm sure you've thrown quite a wrench in her plans."
Lyra shot him a dirty look as she waved her wand and illuminated the house, small lights floating over towards the dust covered oil lamps on the walls giving it an eerie glow. She sighed and placed her purse down on a ragged, moth eaten chair, the dust rising into the air as she reached into it and pulled out his suitcase, tossing it to him. He caught it quickly and placed it down beside him, staring at her intently.
Lyra sighed and crossed her arms around herself. "She was going to kill us anyway, so I suppose in retrospect we wouldn't have had a choice either way."
Tom raised his eyebrows and let out a small laugh. "I'm not surprised. But she won't bother us now. Out of fear of exposing herself, she'll stay far away."
Lyra nodded and sat down in the chair, biting her lip as she stared into the distance.
"You never answered my question from earlier." He said softly, walking over towards her.
"I know."
"You spoke as if-"
"As if I was going on alone?" She interrupted him gently. "Yes. I think that's for the best."
Tom frowned as his eyes rake over her, staring at the black serpent on her arm and quickly towards her empty face. "Why would that be for the best?"
"I won't let us part. Not yet. Not with my mark upon her arm."
"I don't think there's anything more I can show you here." She rubbed her face and reached into her purse pulling out the small flask of emerald potion, staring miserably at it's half empty contents. "I-I have my own matters I need to attend to and I can't keep doing all this."
She opened her purse and summoned a quill and paper, scribbling down a few notes on a piece of parchment that had flown effortlessly into her hands. "Here."
It drifted gently towards him and he caught it hastily, scanning her handwriting. "A list…"
It was an organized outline of every city he could be interested in in all of North America and next to each city a name and address. "What is this?"
"Places that might hold some interest to you, names of acquaintances that may-or may not help you. I'm not sure, it all depends on your theory on Madam Celestin and whether she will seek retribution or not. My reputation at this point could be sullied, even those on that list would not dare cross her."
"At this point all of this is trivial, these places are worthless to me. I've found something that has proved far more useful." He stared at the parchment in his hand and held his wand to it, the paper igniting before him. It floated into the air and became embers, the ash slowly falling onto the ground.
"You attach far too much stigma to her name and although I appreciate the gesture, I'm not interested in any of these places." He said, slowly taking a seat in the dusty old chair next to hers, watching her attentively. "My time in this country is coming to an end, but while I figure out where I myself should go next, let me help you and at least accompany you to your next destination. It'll at least give me time to -"
Lyra felt her stomach drop strangely at his words and made an angry noise, turning towards him angrily. "Help me? And why would I ever believe you wanted to help me?"
"Haven't I already?"
She stood up in frustration and walked over towards the window, the broken glass crunching under her feet as the night air hit her face from in between the wooden boards that covered it's panes. Pausing for a moment she rubbed her forehead and softly replied, her voice somber and subdued.
"Why did you really come here?"
The question caught him off guard.
"Knowledge."
"And what do you intend to do with all of this knowledge you've been collecting? You speak of it like it's something ordinary, but I know as well as you do that magic dredged up from the darkest corners of the earth serves a particular purpose. What is your purpose Tom, because I've thought about it a lot and I can't seem to understand your motives."
He hesitated for a moment, knowing that his reply needed to be well thought out before spoken and stared towards her turned back, thinking of an answer that would appeal to her.
"Have you ever imagined a world where you don't have to disguise your talents from others? A world where you don't have to hide the magic that interests you because others are too weak or feeble minded to comprehend it? Has there ever been a fleeting moment where you wished you didn't have to abide by all these ridiculous rules and laws that were put in place to subjugate us?"
Lyra remained silent and turned her head to the side, listening as he continued.
"One day all of this will change. And wizards like you and I won't have to hide our true selves from anyone."
"You sound like a zealot." She said softly as she wrapped her arms around herself once more. "It's absurd, the world you describe...no order, just chaos. Grindelwald tried that years ago and we all know how that ended."
"I'm familiar with his failure. But this will be entirely different, more structured. The idea is absurd to you because you've been conditioned your entire life to follow a certain order of rules, set in place by those who feared what it is to be powerful."
Tom walked over towards her and placed his hand gently on her shoulder, his heart pounding once he realized he had caught her attention. "Have you not once in your life felt held back by all of this?"
Lyra bit her lip and thought about everything he had said. "Everything he's saying sounds completely crazy...but…"
She knew there were small seeds of truth to the ideas he had expressed.
How she had hidden her unsavory fascination with the dark arts, how she herself had relished and participated in rituals she knew would warrant her death if MACUSA had ever found out about them, her own creation of dark spells strictly prohibited and barely seeing the light of day despite the talent it had taken to perfect their effectiveness. She had chosen her career specifically for the dangerous aspects of its nature, to expose herself intentionally to the darker side of magic so she could break down and understand the art and re-calibrate them for her own purposes.
Were she and Tom really so different?
"We're nothing alike." She argued but felt a twinge of guilt twist in her stomach at the lie she had told herself. They were more similar than she would like to admit. "The difference is that perhaps he's more honest about his interests than you are."
"But is what he's saying really in the realm of possibility? There have been times when I myself have wished…" She chewed on her lip debating on what to say to him. "The possibilities...they could be endless. No more hiding..."
After a few minutes of arguing with herself, Lyra turned around to face him and narrowed her eyes. "No more."
He gave her a confused look as she continued. "I'll permit you to accompany me, but no more lies. No more secrets."
"Not that it matters." She thought to herself. "Even though his ideas appeal to me we'll be parted soon…" Her stomach continued to drop at the thought, the strange emotion confusing her.
"I-"
"You don't need to hide the truth from me Tom. I've never judged you once, I've only gotten upset at the events your secrets have led us to. I need your honesty."
He frowned and replied softly. "I've never lied-"
"Starting with this." She held her arm out towards him, the dark mark exposed. "Don't lie to me. I was unable to recall where I had read about this type of magic earlier and it struck me after we had arrived that I knew what it was."
Lyra walked over to her purse and summoned the small book she had read on the train, reading it to him.
"Cruorcantio, an ancient blood spell that binds its caster to another. Although seemingly useful in nature, allowing one to locate, aid and help their bound partner in times of urgency, many have used this incantation with malicious intent in order to enforce their power over others. There is no counter-curse for the spell, its effects and power will remain until the caster themselves perishes."
"So the spell has another name...interesting…" Tom said as he rubbed his upper lip as she continued on. His thoughts were interrupted as she closed it loudly, placing the book down. "The exchange was uneven. You were not needed for what I sought. Tell me truthfully."
He clenched his jaw and looked up towards the ceiling, frustrated. "I was not."
"And yet you let me be fooled by that insidious woman! Despite everything I've done for you."
"I didn't know." He said, this time speaking the truth.
She sighed. "I might have agreed to it anyway if you had just been honest with me from the beginning…Tonight might not have gone this way if you had told me your intentions."
He was silent for a moment, his heart pausing at her words. "Why would she do this for something as simple as that?"
"From now on I need you to tell me the truth. I deserve that at the very least since my life has been upended once more."
"It was not my intention to disrupt your way of living, truly." He said softly, the truth lingering amongst his words. The exchange tonight had not gone on as planned and it wasn't until now that he realized that his actions could have everlasting consequences for Lyra if she remained in her country. Whether she cured her ailment or not, her life would always be one where she had to watch over her shoulder, waiting for retaliation. Fortunately for her, he had no intentions on leaving her behind, not after he had placed his mark upon her flesh.
Tom stared at the black serpent upon her arm and felt his mind start to race. "I haven't even tested the mark yet, explored its capabilities. To leave this country and her behind with it...I can't allow it. I'll need to figure a way to persuade her soon...she must come with me."
He searched her pale face, waiting anxiously for her to accept his apology and stiffly nodded his head in response when she finally did, agreeing to her conditions. Her face relaxed and she rubbed her eyes, wincing at the wound on her cheek as another bead of blood spilled out from it's slit.
"You're bleeding."
"It was nasty curse I was fortunate to have mostly avoided...I would have hated to see what it would have done had it hit me and not just grazed my cheek."
She walked over towards her bag and pulled out a small mirror from within, observing the small gash on her face. Summoning a small vial of dittany from her bag she dropped a few drops onto the wound, tending to the rest of her body as she sighed. "That one's going to leave a mark."
"That curse before we apparated...another of your inventions I assume?" Tom asked softly, trying to distract himself as he stared at his flesh and clothing, covered in dried blood that didn't belong to him. He wrinkled his nose and pulled out his wand, waving it over his clothes to try and clean them.
"Yes...although I hadn't used it exactly like that before tonight…How did you know?" Lyra said as she turned towards him, frowning.
He spoke softly, distracted by the few stubborn stains that refused to budge. "I would have heard of it otherwise…" Turning his wand toward his skin, he murmured a few spells under his breath. "It was clever...messy, but clever."
"Wait-" Lyra said breathlessly as she pulled an empty vial from her purse and walked over towards him, pushing his wand away. "Don't get rid of all of it."
She waved her wand over his arm and he watched as the tiny specks of dried blood rose of his skin and into the glass container like ash. Once satisfied with the amount she had collected, she placed the cork onto the vial and handed it towards him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Blood of your enemy. It could prove useful in the future…"
He stared at the glass phial she had placed in his hands and looked up towards her, pursing his lips in curiosity. "Most witches aren't as knowledgeable about blood magic as you are…"
She shrugged her shoulders and walked across the room summoning a few belongings from her purse, a small desk and a few other essentials flew out from within its depths, her wardrobe the last to escape and settle with a large thud on the floor. "I'm not most witches."
"Which makes you invaluable to me." He thought.
Looking around at the furniture spread out around the room, he tilted his head curiously and asked "Is it smart to be staying here? The town looks…"
"Abandoned?" She looked towards him and raised an eyebrow. "Yes...and I assure you it's quite safe. Hardly a soul knows about this encampment...it was a no-maj community before everyone died off. MACUSA thought one day it would be useful if they had to move their location again so they made the town unplottable, invisible to prying eyes. But as you can see, they haven't done anything with it yet...it was either stay here or go to Sweetwater."
"I suppose the town of Sweetwater holds no interest to you?" He smiled as she shook her head.
"I guess if you liked quidditch you'd find it delightful."
He wrinkled his nose once more and she smirked. "My sentiments exactly."
Her face grew serious for a moment, her strange eyes narrowing towards him and changing direction towards the floor, her voice wavering as if she were unsure of what she was about to say next. "At what age did you learn to speak parseltongue?"
His stomach dropped at her question and he turned his head to face her, his eyes shining violently.
Lyra tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and brought her eyes to his, frowning at his silence. "In the bayou. I heard you."
Tom's volatile eyes stared back at her, caught off guard by the question and angered by her discovery.
"She must have heard After Madam Celestin broke the trance."
"One does not learn parseltongue." He sneered. "You can either speak it or you can't."
"I see. And this had always been a gift of yours?" Lyra felt a cold shiver run up her spine, realizing that the language she had heard in her past recurring dreams was in fact one in the same.
"For as long as I can remember." He said softly, the malice in his voice dissipating when he realized her discomfort and instead felt a twinge of delight, happy with her unease. "This bothers you?"
"No." She said, trying to push her apprehension away, adding hastily, "I always thought the language to be extinct, I never thought in my life I would meet an actual person who could speak it."
"It was just a dream Lyra. And dreams mean nothing, you know that. Don't overthink it."
"It can be useful sometimes." Tom replied, his eyes watching her carefully. "The gem would be useless without a parselmouth to coax its powers forward."
"I don't understand." Lyra frowned, secretly relieved he had diverted the topic down a different path. "Horned Serpents were hunted for years in Europe, to the point of extinction. Surely would not every jewel be useless then? Not many people could speak the language."
"A jewel is only useless if stolen, but if willingly parted with...then the case is different. This is why Madam Celestin took an interest in me, why she entertained our demands. The stone was stolen and therefore useless to her, only someone who spoke its tongue could harness its power."
"I see...forgive me if I sound ignorant Tom, but a horned serpents gem is very uncommon… and I'm unfamiliar with its purpose. Perhaps you could shed some light for me once more as to why you risked both of our lives for it?"
Tom took it out of his pocket once more and held it before them before he carefully placed it into his case, pulling a book out of its depths before locking it. "There are rumours of invisibility and flight attributed to it...although I would be skeptical about these whispers."
"So...it has no purpose?" She said flatly.
"Only time can tell." He shrugged and walked away from her, settling down in a chair from across the room. "I can't let her know that the potion was made using the stones from my locket. It will raise too many questions."
Lyra frowned as he started to read a small book he had pulled from his case, signaling that their conversation was over and shook her head in exasperation. "Time is something you do not have. Ignore all of these distractions Lyra, none of this matters, focus on yourself and what you need to do."
Tom sat in a large cushioned chair by the roaring fire Lyra had lit after they had placed a few extra protective enchantments around the house and he was immersed in a book trying hard to ward the heaviness that settled on his lids. Lyra sat by her desk, the furious sound of her quill scratching against the parchment as she occasionally bit her lip and continued on, lost in her thoughts. The noise of her incessant scribbling started to irk him and he placed the book down, rubbing his forehead before turning towards her.
"Something's on your mind." He said plainly, waiting patiently for her to respond, her attention still transfixed on her writing.
"How keen of you to notice." Lyra said sarcastically as she placed the quill back into it's well and held the paper up to her face, blowing on it gently so as to make the ink dry.
Tom stared at her dryly until she sighed and set what she had been focused on aside, cupping her hands against her face as she rubbed her temples. She pushed the chair back slightly and crossed her legs, her arms motioning towards the scroll.
"I was just documenting a few things from earlier...just so I don't forget any details."
He raised his eyebrows and felt his lips part in anticipation, in all of the turmoil and conflict of the night he had forgotten to ask about what had happened to her in the swamps of New Orleans.
"Tonight...did you uncover anything of value? Any understanding into…" His voice trailed off as her face turned dark.
"No…" She answered quickly and then furrowed her brows. "Well...perhaps. But everything was so muddled and strange, I'm not sure if anything I saw is of importance."
Lyra regaled parts of her strange experience with him and watched as he raised a hand to his mouth, his thumb stroking his lip in concentration. She watched the dark hair fall into his eyes, his strong jaw moving in concentration and his hands stroking the only rosy part of his face. Realizing her eyes had lingered on him more than they ought to of, she blushed and quickly averted her gaze to the floor, trying to subdue the reaction.
"The shape in the sky, what did it look like?" Tom said as he looked up at her, his cinnamon eyes gleaming with curiosity. Lyra turned to the desk and picked up the parchment she had just been scribbling upon and passed it to him, shaking her head in frustration.
"I drew this so I wouldn't forget. I don't know where I've seen it, but it feels familiar to me...I've seen this somewhere before, I'm sure of it..."
He took the paper gently and scanned over the crude drawing, his eyebrows arching in surprise as he recognized the shape himself.
"You've most certainly seen this before, I would know." He said softly as he stood up and walked over towards his suitcase.
"How do you know -"
"Because it's on this book you gave to me." Tom retrieved the small old leather bound book from his case, the gold clasp holding it closed sparkling in the light, its unusual shape polished and identical.
A small gasp escaped her lips as she stared at the emblem that fastened its pages together, the hair on her neck rising as she reached out towards it.
Yay! I actually got to finish a chapter on time! (So rare nowadays.) I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, a lot of the dynamics are starting to change! Not too much commentary on this addition to the story aside from some historical stuff. Bitter Creek, TX was a ghost town in the same county as Sweetwater, where all of its remaining 5 inhabitants died sometime in the 1950's. The town has actually eroded so much that even though people know it existed, they can't figure out where because there's nothing left and it's not on the maps. Sweetwater was mentioned as a quidditch team in the United States so that was my little nod to the movies. Now onto reviews!
Kiracalico:
I'm so glad you liked the whole Voodoo aspect! I couldn't not include it in the story! Even though New Orleans isn't listed as a "magical city" in the potterverse, I felt like it would really be the hub of dark magic in North America.
I don't think Tom or Lyra ever have any way of knowing that they're cursed...so we'll just have to see how it plays out. Tom's curse is pretty foreboding considering everything that happened in the Harry Potter novels.
Thank you to all the new followers and favorites! And if you guys are really enjoying the story don't forget to review! Will update soon hopefully within the next week! :3