Braving the Past

Chapter 34: Unexpected Outcomes

Outside the house of Gaunt, hiding behind a bush of all places, Tom sat nearing impatience. Days he has waited, waited for an opening, for Lord Voldemort to leave so that Tom could enter unnoticed. But fate did not seem to be in his favor, so he had finally resolved.

Today, he would go inside. He would meet his future self in person once and for all, and see what would become of himself if he continued on the path he craved so much.

One good thing that came of Tom's semi-patient waiting was observation. By silently watching followers of Lord Voldemort enter, he knew that the doors were sealed with blood magic, and that only those who were invited in could avoid the toll. All he had to do now was find an unsuspecting follower and make them pay with their blood to allow him entrance.

His own blood was too precious to spill.

Tom didn't have to wait long for a lone follower to make his way down the broken path toward the old house. The man stumbled as if drunken and Tom smirked. Perfect.

He stepped out from behind the large bush he had been hidden behind, brushing a small spider from the front of his shirt. Tom waited patiently for the man to notice him, standing so that his face was only partly in shadow. Once he did, the man nearly jumped out of his socks, and immediately attempted to stand taller.

He did not succeed.

"Your Highness – Sire -"

"Lord," Tom corrected icily.

"Your Lord." The man bowed clumsily, nearly falling on his face.

Tom rolled his eyes before fixing a dark glare on the man.

His eyes widened. "MY Lord...apologies," he whispered.

"Quit your pointless groveling, already."

The man nodded his dirty head, and stared frightfully at Tom.

"Do you not have something better to do, you imbecile, or are you quite content with wasting my time?" Tom said impatiently.

"N-no, My Lord. I was a-actually coming to see you. My Lord," he tried to bow again, but Tom sent a spell to push him back upright. A large waft of firewhiskey hit his nose, causing him to crinkle it distastefully.

"Lead the way inside, then." Tom motioned to the front steps. "I have no desire to stand out in the open while Dumbledore has his idiots out looking for me."

The man nodded quickly. "Of course, My Lord!" He hurried up the steps and raised his hand to knock.

Tom's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist just before his knuckles hit the wood. "I do not wait," he said.

"But-"

"You can either pay the price yourself, or I'll use the Imperius Curse and force you," Tom reasoned lightly. "You may as well do it your way and keep your neck intact."

The man gulped and took out a wand from inside his tattered robes. He only hesitated a moment, during which Tom watched closely, before conjuring a slicing hex to his palm with a small cry. He held his shaking fist out and allowed his blood to drip on the welcome mat.

Tom watched with satisfaction as the door opened to reveal the entryway he remembered seeing in the Snatcher's memories. He strode purposefully through the door, leaving the man behind to wrap his hand.

Tom didn't get far, though, when a pale woman appeared with a crack in front of him. If her manic eyes didn't give her away, the ridiculous head of hair did.

This was the woman who tortured Hermione. What was her name again?

He wracked his mind for memories he had forcefully taken for any clue as to what it could be.