Chapter 5
Chapter 5: The Lady of the Woods
April 22, 1982- The Cottage, Forests Outside Slytherin Manor, Unplottable Location
Hadrian awoke with a start. This wasn't his room! Where was Mama? She was always there when he woke up. Hadrian looked around the room he was in with confusion. It was extremely different to anything he had ever seen before. Why was he there and where was his Mama?
Hadrian's brow furrowed in frustration. If his Mamma didn't want to be with him, then he would find her. He was her little snake; the most important thing in her life! She had said so herself. Hadrian huffed and pouted as he realized that the bed he was in was very high up. Hadrian thought about abandoning his mission to find his Mama, but then a picture of her flashed in his mind and he decided that he would find her, even if meant jumping down from the nasty high-up bed. The almost two year old got unsteadily onto his feet and then jumped.
The ground came faster than he expected and Hadrian shut his eyes. He didn't want to get hurt or his Mama would certainly be mad at him. Hadrian's youthful magic accepted the Slytherin Heir's subconscious plead and cushioned the toddler's fall as Hadrian landed on the floor on his butt.
Hadrian crowed in delight. That had been the most fun he'd ever had!
As the young Heir of Slytherin was busing fawning over his stunt, a shadowed sliver figure contemplated the toddler from the doorway. How could so much rest on the shoulders of one so young? The mysterious figure had known little Hadrian's destiny from the moment he had gazed upon her forest. It had only taken a simple nudge in the right direction and the young Riddle had come to her by himself! It was almost too easy.
She frowned at the thought. She would have to talk to Tom about this when he eventually found them. It wouldn't do to have their little electi taken by someone who didn't have his best interests in mind, like that Dumledoor fellow. In her opinion, he was just as bad as his counterpart and lover, Grinowal, or whatever their names were-she couldn't be bothered to remember them as they weren't important to her mission.
Her mission was to be a constant in Hadrian's life, to support his decisions in the name of Magic herself.
For that is what the two of them were together: Magic's last plead for help.
-HCR-
April 22, 1982- Tom's Office, Slytherin Manor, Unplottable Location
Tom was hopelessly anxious, though he couldn't let it show in his expression, otherwise some idiotic witch or wizard with delusions of grandeur would believe him unfit to be the leader of the Dark Sect which would create a bigger mess than Tom could deal with at the moment. Ever since he had found out about Hadrian's disappearance from Tally's panicking thoughts, Tom had been trying to keep himself from lashing out at everyone who crossed his path.
Unfortunately, due to the need to seem infallible to his entire following, Tom couldn't make the disappearance of his only heir to become public, otherwise it might also look like he couldn't make his son properly safe. So far, only the Malfoy's, Lestrange's and the Black's knew of their dilemma, as was their right as some of Hadrian's closest living relatives.
From the moment he knew of his son's disappearance, Tom had done everything in his power to get him back, including using one the darkest binding rituals he knew to call forth a minor deity in the hopes that they would even have an inkling of where his son had disappeared to. Unfortunately, the minor goddess he had called upon- Eris- had revealed that even she could not disclose Hadrian's location to Tom. In a rage, Tom's magic had banished the goddess of chaos, strife and discord from the ritual room before his magic pulsated with raw fury, blasting every single thing in sight apart.
The ritual had been Tom's last resort, as it was extremely taxing on his magical core to use that much of his magical reserves in such a short period of time. In the smoldering remains of the ritual room, Tom had sunk to his knees in despair, for if a deity- albeit a minor deity- couldn't tell him the whereabouts of his son, then how would he ever find him? He hadn't known how long he had been sitting on the stone floors that sapped him of all hope and heat until he was left feeling cold, hopeless and empty inside. It had felt like hours, years and yet it felt like no time had passed at all. His mind had been frozen with the notion that he couldn't find his little Hadrian, his heir and that all his frantic searching and hoping had been in vain.
For the first time in decades, Tom had felt useless. He had been trapped in that mind set until Lillian had come down in her post-panic emotionless state and handed him an enormous dusty tome whose cover was stained with blood- fresh blood- which made him believe that his bonded hadn't been able to keep away from murder in her quest to find their son.
Lillian had set up the next available room in the dungeons as their temporary ritual as they had decided to do the ritual together. The ritual itself was one that had been cross-referenced from a life magic ritual (life magic was considered to be the extremist's side of light magic) and a blood ritual that involved the blood of an innocent victim-who you had to kill during the actual ritual- and the blood of the being you intended to locate.
Tom had immediately noticed that the ritual used both life and death magics, two arts that were opposites on the magical scale, which was scarily similar to the way that his little Hadrian's magical aura was completely and utterly unbiased. Hadrian's magical core wasn't dark, light, or even neutral; Hadrian's magic was completely unbiased and only magic, a grey mixture of the two.
Although Tom didn't like the similarities between his son's magical nature and the nature of ritual, Tom was desperate and therefore went through with the ritual, killing a random man they found of the streets of muggle London. Lillian had taken the random pedestrian; they didn't know if he was of magical blood or not and it did not matter to them. All that mattered was finding their Hadrian so he could come back home to where he belonged, where they belonged: together.
Unfortunately, even when they completed the ritual that created the initial contact between those involved in the ritual, it would take time for the magic of the ritual to find the missing person; in this case, Hadrian.
This was the reason Tom was currently attending a meeting for all Lords and Ladies who held seats for the Dark Sect in the Wizengamot, even though he would much rather be at home, waiting for the ritual's magic to lock onto Hadrian's location. A burst of frustration flashed across his mind, because here he was, at a fucking 'Plans for the Next Wizengamot Meeting', which wasn't due until the summer solstice anyways. He was here, wasting his time instead of trying to do everything in his power to find Hadrian, his son. Tom could practically feel his blood boiling at the ridiculousness of this fucking meeting; he should be home searching for Hadrian!
Right as Tom was about to brutally and systematically murder every single stuffy politician in the meeting, he felt his bond to the ritual pulse. Tom froze; hope creeping up inside of him, like the gentle rays of the sun defrosting a beautiful flower after a long harsh winter. Suddenly he knew exactly where he could find his son.
Without hesitation the Leader of the Dark Sect cut into Archibald Odiosis' monologue- as it was well due to be over anyway- bid those present a good day and said they would continue the meeting later that week. Tom forcefully apparated himself through Archibald's pesky aniti-appartition wards, and landed in the foyer of Slytherin Manor, where his Lillian was waiting for him. They had their son to rescue, and perhaps people to torture as well for taking part of their family away from him.
-HCR-
April 22, 1982- The Cottage, Forests Outside Slytherin Manor, Unplottable Location
Hadrian's giggles echoed through the forest as Helena's silvery hue of magic filled the small clearing, caressing the toddler's cheek fondly, as if welcoming him home. Helena smiled at the Slytherin Heir, drawing ever closer before crouching down before him. Hadrian looked up at the nice lady and smiled his biggest smile, because his Mama always said that it was how he could get people to like him the most. Even if he didn't know who his Mama was talking about, he still smiled at the ghostly apparition, because he wanted Lady 'Lena to like him.
Helena looked startled for a second before she smiled back at him softy, reaching out her hand to him. Hadrian took her hand, confused why her hand was so cold. Hadrian opened his mouth, ready to ask her his question, before he was ripped from Lady 'Lena's grasp. Hadrian reappeared at the edge of the clearing, pushed behind two familiar figures.
"Mama! Dada!" Hadrian nearly vibrated with happiness; he had found them! He hoped they wouldn't be mad at him for playing with Lady 'Lena.
Hadrian moved forward slightly to hug his Mama and Dada, but stopped when he felt his Dada's misty shadows wrapping around him. Don't move, they said, Stay safe. Safe? Hadrian didn't understand why his Dada thought he had to stay safe; there was nothing to be afraid of! Hadrian frowned, there was only them and the Lady 'Lena here- Hadrian gasped. They were probably mad at him for playing with Lady 'Lena and not going straight to them and now they weren't going to let him come back here ever again!
Hadrian ran over to his Dada, crying silently. He didn't want his Mama and Dada to be mad at him!
Tom glanced over at Lillian, and sent a signaling stream of emotions through their bond. When Tom felt a confirming emotion flit over from his bonded, he dropped behind her as Lillian erected a temporary time ward. The time ward allowed them to stay within the small area within the ward, without wasting even a second on the outside of the ward. However, it blackened everything outside the warded area so they were left 'blind' of their surroundings.
Tom dropped to his knees, enveloping Hadrian in his embrace. The Slytherin Lord felt small hands ball his robes in them before his son's frame shook with the force of his sobs. Tom drew back slightly; intent on making sure his son was fine before brutally maiming whoever dared to take Hadrian from them. As Tom met his son's orbs that were glassy with unshed tears, rage filled him at the thought of whoever had taken his son and hurt him like this.
The Dark Lord looked over his heir as he made sure Hadrian wasn't physically hurt before planting a kiss on his forehead and spinning around, ready to take on whoever had caused his son to cry.
Just as Tom was going to signal Lillian to drop the wards, he felt a magically influential presence envelope over them.
"I believe there has been a misunderstanding here, Tom Riddle." A woman's voice reverberated through the wards, as well as the overwhelming impression that she wouldn't hurt them. Tom hesitated, before steeling his resolve and responding.
"A misunderstanding?" He asked incredulously. "How can you suggest that when you took our son from us?"
"I had no other choice." The voice responded in her holier-than-thou tone of voice. "If I had not taken Hadrian away here, he would have experienced something that would have repressed his magic irreversibly."
Lillian and Tom tensed, their thoughts echoing with questioning emotions.
Eventually it was Hadrian that voiced their questions in his childish speech, "La'y 'Lena, why?"
At the young Slytherin Heir's question, the voice- Lady Lena according to Hadrian- softened considerably. "Hadrian," She started, "You would have been taken when your father brought you to a meeting at the ministry by someone when they heard you talking to your father about your creature friends. This mean Lady would have tried to make you hate the creatures of my forest and beyond, which would have confused and hurt you, making you not want to use your magic for a long time."
Hadrian ohh'd with comprehension, while Lillian and Tom stood, frozen and confused at her words.
Tom was struggling with his maelstrom of negative emotions. He had come to rescue Hadrian and had accepted that they would most likely have to fight to make it out alive- even if he didn't like using such Gryffindorish tactics, they-she- had taken one of the only members of his family! Now he had to deal with the possibility that this 'Lady Lena' didn't take his son out of ill intent, though he wasn't completely convinced of her innocence in recent events.
"How can we be sure that this would have come to pass and that you are not trying to deceive us?" Tom asked warily. He decided that unless she gave substantial proof, he would first get his family out of wherever the hell they were and find out how to kill or permanently banish her later.
"If you take down your time-ward, I believe that I can convince you of the truth of these events." Her ever-steady response seemed to echo through their very beings.
Lillian shot a cautious look at her bonded as she slowly took down the wards surrounding them.
What they saw astounded them, as they hadn't gotten a good look at Hadrian's captor before they had disappeared behind the hastily drawn wards.
"Lady Grey?" Lillian asked tonelessly, only a slightly lift to the pitch of her voice giving away her surprise and incredulity.
"Aren't you supposed to be at Hogwarts, Helena?" Tom asked curiously, but not necessarily accusingly. The Dark Lord had encountered the Ghost of Ravenclaw when he was but a student and still set on the notion of horcruxes. Tom nearly snorted at the thought. He preferred being mortal to permanent insanity, thank you very much. Not to say he didn't have other protective measures in place that would make him very hard to kill by any witch or wizard's standards. Helena Ravenclaw responded to his question, drawing the Dark Lord out of his musings.
"Tom," She started slowly, "When you went to the Albanian Forest all those decades ago and retrieved my mother's diadem, you originally were going to use it to store a portion of your soul, correct?" Seeing Tom nod in confirmation, the ghost continued in her haunting, lilting speech. "My mother's diadem was one of the objects tying me to the mortal plane, so when you made contact with it, I used that contact to create a temporary connection to your centrum anima." She paused, tilting her head to the side as if in contemplation.
"Through this connection, I could understand all that you are; your hopes, dreams and desires. In that instant I understood everything you were and what you stood for- why you stood for it-which may be why I got a glimpse into a possible future for you, Tom Riddle. In this future, you used my mother's diadem as your first twisted soul-carrier, yet you were driven to create more of them, so you could be even further away from death's icy grasp. With every bit of your soul you tore off in the name of immortality," She spit the word out like it was a bitter poison. "the more you lost yourself, Tom Marvolo Riddle. You would have eventually created a persona that would originally come from an anagram of your name." Misty letters appeared in the air in front of the Ravenclaw Heir, reordering the name Tom Marvolo Riddle until they formed the statement I Am Lord Voldemort.
Tom stood frozen, shocked beyond belief by her statements. Seemingly satisfied by his reaction, Helena Ravenclaw continued her tale about the Slytherin Lord.
"You would have succumbed to insanity the minute you split your soul for the second time, leaving you with only twenty-five percent of your original soul intact. By the time you had created your third soul-carrier, your unique bloodline traits would have tried to save you in any way, shape or form before you completely destroyed yourself. With each time you would rip your soul apart after the third attempt, you became less human and took on more of your bloodline's traits as a result. You ceased to look like the young, charismatic man who could sway crowds with a single smile, and began to look more and more like a crude mixture of your human and creature forms. You lost your original goals and aspirations and began condoning things, such as wide-scale muggle hunts that would have exposed us to the non-magicals only half a century later." She puffed out a breath of air before continuing with a firey passion.
"Due to your actions in that future, Lord Voldemort," She hissed out mockingly, "the Wizarding communities were unprepared for the backlash of being exposed to every single six billion non-magicals on the planet and magic was extinguished, forever, as a result." Her voice took on a broken, pleading tone that was laden with desperation.
"She died. Our Mother, Magic, Lady Hecate, died and we could do nothing to save her. We were left helpless and without Her guidance." She took a shuddering breath as she tried to recompose herself from her sudden grief.
"When I saw that possible future, Tom." She stopped suddenly, looking up at Tom with large misty eyes, pleading for him to understand what she had seen that day. "I knew I had to do everything in my power to not let that happen, so I used the last bit of energy in the connection to turn your bloodline and magic against the splitting of your soul. Even when the connection disappeared, I knew I had to make sure that nothing of that nature would ever possibly happen again, so devoted myself to our Lady Hectate, and she told me of you." She took a deep breath and her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a small smile ghosting her lips.
"She told me to help you and your cause- as you had righted yourself and your beliefs- for it could still mean the difference between her life and death. To help you with this task you must complete. This burden that have you carried was unconsciously shared with your family and loved ones, and only if you can complete your part- together- can your children ever finish it and save her." She broke off abruptly; eyes ablaze with a passionate belief that made Tom and Lillian stop short. Could she really be telling the truth? If so, they both knew that they could never and would never abandon their Lady Hecate. It was only because of her that they even existed and they would not abandon her at the mercy of an unknown foe.
Their attention was drawn back to Helena's silvery form when she drew in breath to conclude her daunting monologue.
"And so," She continued softly, "I knew I had to tell you all that my Lady would allow me to, for you and those that revolve around you and your family are crucial to the my-our- mission for Her. That is all I ask for." She breathed out, her voice soft.
She straightened suddenly, staring through their very souls.
"Come back when you have reached a decision."
And with that she was gone, and the Dark Lord and Lady appeared on their grounds with their Heir, shocked to their cores.