So, this is the murder chapter without the murder because everyone knows this was inevitable for those who have read the books know that during the summer of 1943 Tom murders his dad and his entire family.
There was really no point in putting it into the chapter. Instead enjoy the fluff that entales before disaster strikes.
Happy reading
Chapter 5: Shadows Converge
Kavya and Tom walked in silence as they made their way back to her aunt and uncle's quaint home in Little Hangleton. The sky above was overcast, mirroring the somber mood that hung over both. Tom's injured arm was cradled against his chest, a constant reminder of the recent encounter with the Obscurus. Kavya's thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions, torn between her concern for Tom's well-being and the weight of the secrets they now shared.
As they reached the front gate, Kavya turned to Tom, her eyes filled with a mixture of worry and determination. "You need to rest and let that wound heal," she insisted, her voice tinged with a touch of authority.
Tom nodded; his expression more subdued than usual. "I will," he replied, his usually confident demeanor momentarily subdued.
Anjali, who had been peering out the window, rushed to the door as she saw them approaching. "Kavya, dear, is everything alright?" she asked, concern etched on her features.
"We had a bit of an accident, Aunt Anjali," Kavya replied, her tone gentle. "Tom got hurt, and we encountered something… unexpected."
Anjali's worry deepened as she ushered them inside. "Let me take a look at that wound, Tom," she said, leading him to the living room. "Kavya, dear, fetch the first aid kit, please."
First aid kit? Tom was baffled at first by the notion of using mediocre muggle means of taking care of his injuries and then it dawned on him. Kavya's aunt and uncle must be muggles.
Cinnamon ran towards to greet Kavya. The small pup was jumping up and down excited to see that she had returned safely.
"Cinnamon, I'm alright." Kavya reassured the dog patting his head.
As Anjali tended to Tom's wound, Kavya retrieved the first aid kit and knelt beside them. The room was filled with the scent of antiseptic, a sharp contrast to the calming ambiance of the garden. Tom winced slightly as Anjali cleaned his wound, but he remained stoic.
"Thank you for helping us, Aunt Anjali," Kavya said gratefully, her eyes reflecting her appreciation.
Anjali smiled kindly. "Of course, dear. Family looks out for one another," she replied before finishing the bandaging.
That was something Tom was indifferent about since his family had all but forgotten about him. It angered him so much.
Tom stood up; his arm now securely wrapped. "Thank you," he said, his voice holding a rare note of gratitude.
Anjali patted his uninjured arm. "Take care now, both of you," she advised before heading back to her gardening.
Once they were alone, Kavya turned to Tom, her expression thoughtful. "Tom, you can't keep pushing yourself like this," she admonished gently. "You need to find another way, a safer way, to confront your past."
Tom's gaze met hers, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions. "Kavya, I appreciate your concern, but this is something I need to do," he replied, his tone resolute.
Kavya sighed, frustration mingling with her worry. "I know you feel that way, but there's too much at stake. You're putting your life on the line…!" She almost shouted at him. "I…don't want to see you get hurt." She admitted truthfully.
He reached out and grasped her hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. "I promise I won't do anything reckless," he assured her, his eyes searching hers for understanding. That was a lie.
Kavya studied him for a moment, her heart torn between her concern for him and her desire to protect him from himself. "Just promise me that we'll work together, Tom. We'll find a way to face your past.
Tom nodded, his grip on her hand tightening. "We will," he affirmed.
As the two of them sat in the living room, their hands intertwined, a sense of unity and purpose began to take root.
Tom's eyes wandered around the living room, taking in the cozy surroundings. His gaze landed on a bookshelf, where a worn copy of "The Tales of Beedle the Bard" was prominently displayed. Curiosity piqued, he pointed towards it. "What's this?" he asked, his tone genuinely inquisitive.
Kavya followed his gaze and smiled. "Oh, that's 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard.' It's a collection of wizarding fairy tales and stories. My mother used to read it to me when I was a child," she explained.
Tom's eyes flickered with interest as he picked up the book and examined its cover. "Fairy tales, you say?" he mused, flipping through the pages. He read each title. There were five tales in the book: 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune', 'The Warlock's Hairy Heart', 'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot' and 'Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump, and 'The Tale of the Three Brothers".
His eyes fell upon the story titled "The Tale of the Three Brothers."
Kavya nodded, watching as he read the tale. "Yes, each story has a moral or a lesson to learn. They're quite enchanting, really."
Tom's gaze shifted from "The Tale of the Three Brothers" to another story titled "The Warlock's Hairy Heart." He read the words silently, his expression growing contemplative.
"What's that one about?" he asked, his eyes meeting Kavya's.
Kavya hesitated for a moment before explaining, "It's about a warlock who wanted to protect himself from the pain of love. So, he removed his own heart and hid it away. But in doing so, he lost his capacity to feel any emotions, even the good ones."
Tom's lips curled into a faint smirk. "A wise choice," he commented, his voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm.
Kavya shook her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Not necessarily. The story teaches us that suppressing our emotions can lead to an empty and lonely existence. Love, even with its challenges, is an integral part of the human experience."
Tom's gaze remained fixed on the page; his expression inscrutable. "Perhaps," he murmured, his thoughts seemingly drifting elsewhere.
Kavya studied him for a moment, her intuition telling her that there was more to his words than met the eye. She reached out and gently touched his arm. "Tom, are you okay?"
He glanced up at her, his eyes guarded but something vulnerable lurking beneath the surface. "I'm fine, Kavya. Just lost in thought," he replied, his voice distant.
She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Well, whenever you're ready to share, I'm here to listen."
Tom's lips quirked in a half-smile, and for a moment, the weight of his secrets seemed to lift ever so slightly. "Thank you," he said softly.
As they sat together in the cozy living room, surrounded by the warmth feeling of the cozy home, something Tom wasn't used to. Kavya then noted how late it was getting.
"It's getting late. It's best if we get some sleep. I'll see you off tomorrow at the train station when you're ready to go back to London." Kavya told him with a faint smile.
Tom just nodded his eyes still fixated on the book.
Kavya smiled a little realizing how much he was interested in reading the book. He probably had not read fairy tales in his youth while being in an orphanage. "You can stay in here and read it if you want. They're all great stories." She said and then went to her room with Cinnamon trailing beside her.
As Kavya retreated to her room, leaving Tom alone in the cozy living room, he found himself surrounded by an air of solitude that was both unfamiliar and strangely comforting. The soft glow of a lamp cast a warm light over the room, illuminating the pages of the book he held in his hands.
Tom's gaze was fixed on the aged parchment, his fingers delicately tracing the words of the first tale - "The Tale of the Three Brothers." The story unfolded before him, captivating his attention with its ethereal narrative. He absorbed each word, his mind conjuring vivid images of Death granting the brothers their fateful wishes.
As he read about the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak, Tom's thoughts were consumed by the concept of power and mortality. The idea of possessing objects that could bestow unparalleled power intrigued him, resonating with his yearning for supremacy.
He muttered to himself, "Could items such as these actually exist?"
The tale's conclusion lingered in his mind, the moral echoing through his thoughts. Death was inevitable, and the pursuit of power often led to one's downfall. Tom's eyes narrowed as he contemplated the implications of the story, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
With a sense of curiosity, he turned to the next tale - "The Warlock's Hairy Heart." The words seemed to come alive as he read about the warlock's ruthless decision to rid himself of all emotions, sealing his heart away to avoid vulnerability.
"Emotions are a weakness," Tom muttered, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. "They cloud judgment and hinder progress."
As the words left his lips, Tom's mind involuntarily drifted to Kavya. Her presence, her unwavering kindness, and the enigmatic connection they shared seemed to challenge his stark perspective. He couldn't deny the feelings that had surfaced during their time together, emotions that defied his belief in emotional detachment.
A vivid image of Kavya's face flashed before his eyes, her warm smile and genuine concern etched into his memory. He recalled moments when her presence had brought a sense of solace, moments that defied his assertion that emotions were nothing but a hindrance.
Shaking his head slightly, Tom attempted to dispel the thoughts that threatened to unravel his carefully constructed convictions. He was resolute in his pursuit of power, his ambition unwavering. Yet, the tales he had just read had ignited a flicker of doubt within him, a nagging uncertainty that he couldn't fully ignore.
The description of the heart's transformation into a monstrous entity struck a chord within Tom, a reminder of his own efforts to suppress his emotions in his quest for control.
As the tale reached its conclusion, Tom closed the book with a contemplative expression. The lessons embedded in the stories reverberated within him, intertwining with his own beliefs and desires. The allure of power clashed with the warnings of the tales, leaving him with a newfound sense of unease.
The living room seemed to hold a quiet intensity, the weight of the stories settling around him. Tom's thoughts were in turmoil, the dichotomy between his ambitions and the wisdom of the tales churning within him. He leaned back in the armchair, his mind adrift in a sea of introspection, as he grappled with the profound impact these tales had on him.
Tom's mind raced with a maelstrom of thoughts and intentions. He held the diary in his hands, his fingers tracing the intricate design on its cover. The gift that Kavya gave to him last Christmas. The tales of Beedle the Bard had stirred something within him, a realization that power came in many forms, some of which he had not fully explored.
As he paced, his thoughts turned to the concept of Horcruxes. He had delved into the forbidden knowledge of splitting his soul to achieve immortality, a notion that had both intrigued and repelled him. The Obscurus he had encountered earlier that day had been a manifestation of his suppressed emotions, a reminder of the darkness that existed within.
Tom's fingers tightened around the diary, his grip almost possessive. "To fragment the soul," he mused aloud, his voice a low, calculated whisper. "To anchor oneself to this world through means others fear to tread."
He walked to the window, gazing out at the night sky. His eyes fell onto the Riddle house in the distance on top of the hill. "Emotions are a weakness," Tom muttered, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. "They cloud judgment and hinder progress." His hand reached for his wand aiming at it his wound muttering a quick spell to mend it and removed the bandage. He didn't want to stay here anymore.
His thoughts then shifted to his father, the man who had abandoned him and his mother. Tom's lip curled into a sneer as he dwelled on the memories of neglect and disdain. The idea of confronting his father, of asserting his dominance and eradicating the source of his own vulnerability, consumed him.
In the dimly lit room, Tom's eyes gleamed with a chilling determination. He envisioned the act, the surge of power as he exacted his revenge. The echoes of his father's pleas and protests fueled his resolve, drowning out any remnants of doubt that had plagued him.
As he continued to pace, Tom's mind became a battleground of conflicting desires. On one hand, the allure of ultimate power and immortality beckoned to him through the dark magic of Horcruxes. On the other hand, the promise of retribution against his father offered a cathartic release from his past torment.
The night stretched on, and Tom's plotting and contemplation intensified.
Tom's mind churned with a storm of conflicting emotions as he stood outside Kavya's bedroom door. The soft glow of moonlight spilled through the window, casting a gentle illumination on her peaceful form. His fingers twitched, torn between the urge to retreat and the compulsion to enter.
His steps were quiet as he pushed the door open slightly, allowing just enough space for him to slip into the room. He moved with a careful grace, his eyes fixed on Kavya's slumbering figure. Moonbeams danced across her face, accentuating her delicate features and the serene expression that graced her lips.
Cinnamon's ears perked up as he heard someone enter the room. His tail wagged seeing Tom realizing that it was not an intruder and then he went back to sleep.
As Tom watched her sleep, a flicker of something unfamiliar tugged at his heartstrings. It was a sensation he had long suppressed, buried beneath layers of ambition and detachment. He found himself captivated by the vulnerability that sleep unveiled, a vulnerability he had always regarded as weakness.
Kavya stirred slightly, her breath a soft whisper in the quiet room. Tom's heart raced, and for a moment, he was tempted to retreat into the shadows. But then, as if guided by an unseen force, he took a step closer to her bedside.
His gaze traced the contours of her face, the curve of her eyelashes against her cheeks, and the rise and fall of her chest with each tranquil breath. The harsh lines of his features softened, revealing a side of him that he rarely acknowledged—the side that once yearned for connection, for something more than power.
For a fleeting moment, Tom's fingers twitched with an impulse to reach out, to brush a strand of hair away from Kavya's face. His mind warred with his instincts, torn between the darkness that had consumed him and the glimmer of humanity that still lingered within.
As the seconds stretched into what seemed like an eternity, Tom's resolve solidified. He couldn't afford such distractions, not now. With a final, lingering gaze, he stepped back from the bedside and silently slipped out of the room, leaving behind the girl who had once held a piece of his heart. He would not return to the home that treated him so kindly. The only time he would see her again would be at school.
The night air outside was cool against his skin, a stark contrast to the maelstrom of emotions raging within him. He steeled himself for the path ahead, his steps carrying him away from the haven of Kavya's presence and toward a destiny that had been shaped by his own hands.
The morning sun cast a soft, golden glow over Little Hangleton as Kavya stepped out onto the porch of her aunt and uncle's home. The events of the previous night had left her restless, her mind swirling with a mixture of unease and confusion. She glanced around, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of Tom, but he was nowhere in sight.
As Kavya took a deep breath, the tranquility of the moment was shattered by the sound of approaching footsteps. Turning, she saw a group of stern-faced individuals in dark robes making their way up the path. Aurors. Her heart skipped a beat, and her thoughts immediately went to the disturbance she had witnessed the previous night at the Riddle house.
The leader of the group, a tall man with a stern expression, approached Kavya. "Good morning, miss. We're here to investigate the incident at the Riddle house. We've heard reports of a disturbance last night."
Hearing that Kavya's lips turned into a frown. Her first instant thought was of Tom and if he was alright.
Kavya's heart raced, and she nodded, trying to compose herself. "What kind of incident?" Kavya asked.
The leader of the Aurors exchanged a glance with his colleagues before turning back to Kavya. His expression remained guarded. "I'm afraid it's a grim matter, miss. The Riddle family has been found murdered in their home."
Kavya's heart seemed to stop for a moment, and a surge of shock and disbelief washed over her. "Murdered?" She stammered, unable to fully grasp the gravity of the words.
Sebastian stepped forward and Kavya was a little relieved to see a familiar face in the several Aurors that were standing there. His eyes filled with concern as he regarded Kavya. "We're still investigating the scene, trying to gather more information. Did you happen to witness anything unusual last night?"
Kavya's mind raced as she tried to process the news. She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "No, I didn't' see anything." Her mind wandered towards Tom. Could he have killed them? She knew how much resent he had for his father for abandoning him, but this, this was barbaric and inhumane.
The leader of the Aurors nodded, his expression solemn. "Understood. If you remember anything or notice any changes, please let us know immediately."
Kavya nodded numbly, her thoughts swirling.
Sebastian's gaze fell on her for a moment. "Where's your friend?" he asked, referring to Tom.
"I…I don't know." She replied honestly. "He must've taken an early train back to London." She told him honestly.
Sebastian's features tightened; his concern evident. "Well if you see him, tell him I want to ask him a few things." He said curtly. "It's a tragic event, and we're doing everything we can to find out who's responsible."
Kavya's mind drifted to Tom, her heart aching with a strange mixture of worry and confusion. Could he be involved? The boy she had known seemed far from capable of such a horrific act. Yet, the events of the past days had shown her a different side to him, a side she couldn't entirely comprehend.
As the conversation continued with the Aurors, a new presence approached. Kavya turned her gaze and saw Morfin Gaunt being escorted by another Auror. His face was etched with a mix of confusion and apprehension, and his eyes widened when he spotted Kavya.
Sebastian exchanged a glance with his colleague, his brow furrowing. "Morfin Gaunt, isn't it?" he asked, his tone steady but probing.
Morfin's gaze shifted between the Aurors and Kavya, his demeanor growing defensive. "Aye, that's me. What's all this about?" He seemed confused. The ring on his finger – his father's ring was absent from his finger.
The other Auror stepped forward, his expression stern. "We've been investigating a disturbance at the Riddle house. Can you confirm your whereabouts last night?"
Morfin's eyes darted nervously, and Kavya sensed his unease. "I was 'ere all night, mindin' me own business," he replied, though his voice quivered slightly.
Sebastian's gaze remained fixed on Morfin, his instincts as an Auror finely tuned. "We'll need you to come with us for further questioning," he stated firmly.
Kavya's mind raced as she observed the scene. It was clear that Morfin was being implicated in the Riddle family's murder, and she couldn't help but wonder if this was connected to the sinister world Tom seemed to be delving into. She exchanged a concerned glance with Sebastian, silently hoping for some clarity.
Sebastian's eyes met Kavya's briefly, and she saw a flicker of understanding in his gaze. "We'll get to the bottom of this," he assured her quietly before turning his attention back to Morfin.
As Morfin was led away by the Aurors, Kavya felt a knot of unease tightening in her chest. The events unfolding around her were becoming increasingly tangled and ominous, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was standing on the precipice of something far more dangerous than she had ever imagined.
The tranquility of Little Hangleton had been shattered by a sinister event, and in its wake, she was left grappling with questions, doubts, and an unsettling realization that her world was becoming entwined with a darkness she had never imagined.
Tom slipped back into Wool's Orphanage as seamlessly as a shadow, his absence from the premises undetected by the other orphans and staff. The moon hung low in the night sky, casting an eerie glow over the desolate surroundings. His mind was focused, his determination unwavering – he had a plan, a method to secure his path to immortality.
With the diary clutched tightly in his hand, Tom made his way to the dimly lit attic, a space he had come to call his own. The air was heavy with the scent of must and decay, and the distant sounds of the orphanage seemed to fade into an otherworldly hush.
Hearing Tom, Nagini slithered across the floor towards him.
"You've returned." His loyal snake hissed.
Tom affectionately stroked her with his fingers. He knew what he had to do now.
"Move aside, Nagini." He ordered her.
Nagini did so and watched with intent as to what Tom was doing.
Tom's heart raced as he placed the diary on a rickety wooden table, the object of his fascination gleaming in the dim light. He knew the ritual, the dark magic that awaited him, held the power to bind a piece of his soul to this vessel – a diary once a gift from someone who had wormed her way into his heart.
As he glanced at the diary, the weight of his decisions and ambitions bore down on him. Tom knew that creating a Horcrux was an irreversible act, one that would forever mark him as a practitioner of the darkest arts. But he was beyond the point of no return; his desire for immortality eclipsed any remnants of moral hesitation that might have remained.
With trembling hands, Tom retrieved his wand and began the incantation, his words echoing through the cold attic. He focused his mind, his intent clear – to tear a fragment of his soul and bind it to the diary, ensuring his own immortality.
Dark magic surged through him, intertwining his very essence with the essence of the diary. Tom's vision blurred, and his surroundings seemed to waver as he became acutely aware of the sheer power he was invoking. His grip on reality slipped momentarily, and he felt a searing pain as the ritual took its toll on his very being.
As the incantation concluded, Tom gasped for breath, beads of sweat forming on his brow. He staggered back, his heart pounding with a mixture of triumph and trepidation. The diary before him now held a fragment of his soul – an immortal piece of himself forever bound to the object.
Tom's eyes glinted with a newfound intensity as he examined his creation. He knew that the diary, now a Horcrux, held the potential to anchor him to the mortal realm, to protect him against death itself. His journey toward ultimate power had begun, and the diary was but the first step along a dark and treacherous path.
With the Horcrux completed, Tom's thoughts turned to his next move. He had set his sights on a greater prize – the creation of more Horcruxes and the accumulation of power that would make him truly invincible. His gaze shifted to the diary once again, a sinister smile curling his lips. The world would soon bear witness to the rise of Tom Riddle, a force that would reshape the very fabric of reality.
As he completed the ritual of turning the diary into a Horcrux, a sinister energy hung heavy in the attic. The air crackled with dark magic, and the diary seemed to pulsate with a newfound malevolence. As he caught his breath, his thoughts turned to Nagini, his trusted companion and confidante.
"Nagini," he whispered, his voice carrying a mix of reverence and command. He knew that the serpent's presence could be felt even before she slithered into view, her eyes fixed on him with a mix of loyalty and curiosity.
"You have achieved what you desired, my Lord," Nagini hissed, her voice a serpentine whisper that would send shivers down anyone's spine. He liked it when she called a Lord. It made him feel powerful.
"Yes," Tom replied, his tone a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation. "The first Horcrux – a step towards the power I seek."
Nagini's eyes gleamed with a profound understanding, a connection that transcended spoken words. She had witnessed his journey from the beginning, the darkness within him growing stronger with each passing day. Her loyalty was unwavering, her loyalty was unwavering, bound to him as both ally and Horcrux.
"I will protect it with my life," Nagini hissed, her body coiling around the base of the table on which the diary rested.
Tom's lips curled into a chilling smile. "And so, you shall, Nagini. The Horcruxes will be the key to my eternal reign, to a world where I hold the power over life and death."
Nagini's gaze remained fixed on him, her loyalty unwavering as ever. She had chosen this path, and her fate was forever entwined with his own.
"Let them come," Tom whispered, his eyes glinting with a sinister fire. "The challenges, the obstacles – they will only fuel my determination." He was determined to get what he wanted by any means necessary. His fingers touched and twirled the ring around his finger. It was the ring he had taken from Morfin after framing him for the murder of his father and his family. He wondered if he could make more than one horcrux.
Nagini's eyes gleamed with a mixture of reverence and hunger for power. In that moment, a chilling alliance was forged between man and serpent – an alliance that would reshape the wizarding world and plunge it into a darkness like none other.
With a final glance at Nagini, Tom Riddle turned away from the attic and descended the creaking stairs of Wool's Orphanage. His path was set, his ambition unwavering, and the first Horcrux he had created was but a taste of the power he intended to wield. As he stepped out into the night, a twisted smile played on his lips – the Horcruxes were his ticket to immortality, and he was willing to sacrifice anything to achieve his dark desires.
Yeah this is where things will get interesting from now on. Tom has set his path on becoming Voldemort and unfortunately there's nothing that can stop him from achieving it.
Review.