Work Text:
Fandom: Harry Potter
Main Pairing: Tom Riddle/Myrtle Warren
Warnings: alternate universe; het; not Albus Dumbledore friendly; implied child abuse; pure-blood culture; and pure-blood traditions
Summary: While he contemplated purchasing his wand from Ollivander’s, Tom Riddle met Myrtle Warren.
shining through (true colors)
Tom Riddle watched as Dumbledore walked away before turning his attention to Ollivander’s. According to Dumbledore, this was the best place to buy a wand. Staring at the shop, Tom was debating if he wanted to take the man’s advice. It was clear Dumbledore didn’t like him – and the feeling was mutual. Tom struggled with emotions, but he understood people and he knew when people didn’t like him.
Dumbledore didn’t like him. The fingers curled around the man’s wand. A slight narrowing of those blue eyes. Lips pressed too tightly together. The dismissive comments, and the long silence between Tom’s questions and the man’s answers.
Tom studied the wandshop. He wasn’t too impressed. The front was narrow and shabby with peeling paint. The windows were covered in dust and a few cobwebs. From what he could see the wandshop’s interior was a small space with more dust, and hundreds of boxes.
Shaking his head, he decided this was not the place he wanted to buy his wand. He needed to find a different wandshop. There had to be another somewhere on this alley.
As he glanced around, Tom located a young girl around his age with brown hair and large glasses. She wore a worn blue dress and old black shoes. He watched as she stopped and she adjusted her glasses before looking around.
From fifty feet away, Tom knew when their eyes connected. He felt something – a warm, tingly sensation. Judging from the girl’s puzzled expression, she likely felt it too. They stared at each other for a minute or two before Tom moved to approach her.
Stopping in front of her, Tom took a few seconds to take a closer look at her. She was dressed like him – poor and muggle – and she had bright green eyes. Her dress was a few sizes too big and it hung loose on her.
“I’m Tom Riddle,” he said, offering his hand.
Her green eyes flickered between his hand and his face before she reached out to take it. “Myrtle Warren,” she said.
“You’re muggle-born?” he asked, his tone blunt. He heard the from a wizard in The Leaky Cauldron.
Myrtle frowned. “I have muggle parents,” she responded, “and I didn’t know about magic before.”
Tom nodded. “That’s a muggle-born,” he stated. He was familiarly certain. It made sense.
“You?” Myrtle asked, her green eyes taking in his clothes.
“I don’t know,” Tom replied. “I’m an orphan.”
A silence fell over them.
“W-want to do our shopping together?” Myrtle asked, sounding hopeful. Her green eyes looked big and bright.
“Yes,” Tom quickly agreed. He liked the idea of company, and Myrtle would be far superior to Dumbledore. “I’m looking for a place to buy my wand.”
Myrtle nodded, looking excited. “Maybe we can ask someone for directions?” she suggested. “Travers just handed me my list before going to meet someone for drinks.”
Tom loathed the idea of asking someone else for help. He liked knowing everything and having all the answers. Being new to magic, he had a lot to learn.
Next to him, Myrtle reached out and she grabbed his hand before pulling him along as she walked down the alley, past Ollivander’s.
They walked for a little before stopping. Myrtle kept her hand in his. Tom watched as she looked at the people walking by. They stood in silence for a moment or two.
Without a word or a glance at Tom, Myrtle withdrew her hand from his as she approached a tall witch with blonde hair and green robes. The witch’s hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she wore a friendly expression.
Tom was a step behind her. He refused to be left behind – and he liked having Myrtle at his side.
“Excuse me,” Myrtle said as she stopped in front of the witch.
The witch’s silver eyes looked them over. “Yes?” she asked.
“My friend and I got lost,” Myrtle began to explain, something pleading in her tone, “and I was hoping you could help us. We’re looking for a place to purchase our school supplies.”
Something in the witch’s expression softened. “You can buy everything here, in Diagon,” the witch told him, “or you could visit a few of the other smaller alleys, like Horizon.”
“Where is Horizon Alley?” Myrtle asked.
Tom forced himself to remain silent. He wasn’t sure what he thought about shopping in a smaller alley. Diagon Alley seemed like the most popular place.
The witch offered them directions, which Tom easily memorized.
Tom took hold of Myrtle’s hand as he led the girl towards Horizon Alley. While Tom was uncertain about shopping on Horizon Alley, Myrtle seemed interested. If nothing, Tom was happy to buy his wand from somewhere other than Ollivander’s.
Horizon Alley was a small shopping area with about a dozen shops. Near the start was a brick building with large, black windows and a large sign proclaiming Celeste Wands: est. 1770 in silver.
“Wands first?” Myrtle suggested, gesturing to the black door.
A small smile formed on Tom’s lips as he took in the sight of the wandshop. It looked better than Ollivander’s. Without another word, he walked up the black door. His eyes widened as the door slid to the left, opening without a touch. His grip on Myrtle’s hand tightened. That was something he wanted to learn.
After taking in the display of magic, Tom eagerly entered the wandshop, pulling Myrtle in behind him.
Inside the shop, there was a long wooden counter separating it into two parts. Between the door and counter, there was a small waiting area with a gray couch, two black armchairs, and a small shelf displaying polishing kits and various wandholders. Behind the counter were rows and rows of shelves, each holding numerous rectangular boxes.
As they entered the wandshop, a bell jingled twice. A short witch approached the counter. She stood around five feet tall with long dark hair that was pulled back in some twist, blue eyes, and pale skin. She wore a pale blue robe. The witch studied the pair, noting their joined hands.
“First years, I assume,” the witch stated.
Myrtle nodded, staring at the woman with wide green eyes.
The witch offered them a kind smile. “Muggle-borns?” she asked.
“Y-yes,” Myrtle answered, something guarded in her tone.
“Obtaining a wand can be a long process,” the witch explained. “I’m working alone today, so I will only be able to work with you one at a time.”
“Tom can go first,” the younger witch said, turning to smile at the wizard.
The witch smiled. “I’m Indigo,” she stated.
“This is Tom,” Myrtle began, “and I’m Myrtle.”
Indigo nodded, her blue eyes glancing between the pair. “To fit you with a wand, you need to understand that the wand chooses the witch or wizard,” she explained, her tone patient. “I will start by taking measurements of your dominant hand and arm. This will help me determine a good wand length. When performing magic and using your wand, you should think of the wand as an extension of yourself.”
She paused for a few seconds, her expression growing serious as she looked at the pair.
With a nod, she continued, “I will hand you wands to try. This part can take a while. Each rejection will help me find what core or wood will suit you best.”
Myrtle nodded, looking fascinated.
Indigo motioned for Tom to come forward.
For some reason, he squeezed Myrtle’s hand before removing his. He walked up to the counter.
Nodding, Indigo flicked her left wrist and her wand slid into her hand. With a twirl, a tape measure appeared, hovering next to her wand. “Your dominant hand?”
Tom held up his right hand.
With a circular motion, the measuring tape started measuring Tom’s hand and arm. The witch nodded with each measurement, mumbling something to herself. When Indigo had all of the measurements, she twirled her wand and the tape measure disappeared.
Indigo turned, scanning the rows behind her. She picked a row and walked off.
Ten minutes later, she returned with an armful of boxes. The boxes were carefully placed on the counter. She looked the boxes over before picking one up and removing the lid. Inside was a dark brown wand. Carefully, Indigo took the wand out.
“Eleven inches, blackthorn with unicorn tail hair,” she said, offering the wand to Tom.
Tom took the wand, expecting to feel something. He frowned. There was nothing.
The witch nodded, motioning for the wand back.
Tom handed it over, his eyes falling to the other boxes.
Indigo returned the blackthorn wand to the box before placing the lid back on top and setting the box aside. She picked up a new box and removed the lid, offering Tom a warm-colored wand.
Tom took the wand, feeling a sense of wrongness.
“Not that one,” Myrtle said, walking up to Tom’s side. “Unicorn hair isn’t for Tom.”
The witch’s eyes narrowed. “Can you explain?” she asked.
“W-when Tom picked it up, his magic turned cold,” the younger witch explained, hesitation in her tone.
Indigo’s blue eyes narrowed. “This wand,” she said, extending her hand to Tom, who returned the wand, “is unicorn tail hair and apple as ten and a half inches.”
Tom tilted his head, looking at his new friend. Could she see magic?
Behind the counter, the witch moved five boxes to the side, adding them to the pile of rejected wands. Indigo looked over the remaining boxes before selecting one. Like the previous wands, she removed the lid and she offered the wand to Tom.
“This wand is eleven and a quarter inches,” she began, “elder with dragon heartstring.”
Tom held the wand. It felt better than the unicorn tail hair, but this wand didn’t feel right . He returned it.
The witch frowned as she placed the wand back in the box. The box was moved to the rejection pile. Indigo quickly selected a new box. As she opened, she explained, “This wand is laurel and dragon heartstring at twelve inches.”
Like the previous wands, Tom took the wand and he returned it when he felt wrongness .
“N-not that one either,” Myrtle said. She frowned, looking at the remaining boxes. Her green eyes lingered on one. “Try that one,” she suggested, pointing at it.
Indigo frowned, glancing between Myrtle, Tom, and the box. With a small shake of her head, she picked up the box and quickly presented the wand to Tom. “Eleven and a fifth inches, yew with a phoenix tailfeather,” she explained.
Tom picked up the wand, his magic felt warm and the wand produced a few sparks. Despite the reaction, there was that sense of wrongness. He handed the wand back with a shake of his head. “It feels closer, but this isn’t it,” he said.
Indigo nodded, her blue eyes fixed on Myrtle. She quickly gathered the boxes before she disappeared down a row of shelves.
Tom turned to look at Myrtle with narrowed eyes, “How do you know?” he demanded.
Myrtle bit her lips and her eyes fell to her feet.
Tom tensed, expecting her to lie. People lied when they looked down.
A silence fell fell over them.
He watched Myrtle. It was clear the question made her very uncomfortable. He didn’t want her to lie. Tom hated it when people lied to him. If he had to guess, Myrtle’s abilities were something like his ability to talk to snakes. He would have to try and ask again later.
Despite wanting answers, Tom knew it was best to change the subject. “Where should we go next?” he asked.
Myrtle glanced, her glasses sliding down her nose. She opened her mouth before quickly closing it. Shaking her head, Myrtle’s gaze returned to the floor.
Irritation filled Tom. Couldn’t Myrtle see he was being nice? Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to remain calm.
“T-trucks or b-bags,” Myrtle stammered. “I-it would be e-easier to carry e-everything.”
Tom quickly agreed. His earlier irritation began to vanish as he watched Myrtle. Some of her actions were starting to make sense, and he wasn’t liking it.
A moment later, the witch returned with a new armful of boxes. The boxes were placed on the counter before Indigo moved them around. Once the boxes were lined up, she removed the lid of each box before pulling the wand out. The wand was placed in front of the box. There were ten wands out.
Motioning Myrtle forward, Indigo waved a hand at all the wands. “What do you see ?” she asked.
Myrtle’s eyes widened. She glanced between Tom, Indigo, and the wands a few times.
Indigo raised an eyebrow.
Tom offered what he thought was an encouraging smile.
It took Myrtle a minute before she started to look over the wands. She stole the occasional glance at Tom. Her eyes narrowed. “C-can you place your hand above each wand?” she asked, looking over at Tom.
Curious, Tom moved forward and he held his right hand above a wand. He moved, his hand hovering above each wand for several seconds. He tried to move slowly.
“The seventh one,” Myrtle whispered when Tom finished.
Indigo nodded, her blue eyes narrowed. “Try it,” she encouraged Tom.
Tom picked up the wand. It was warm, but it didn’t feel right. Shaking his head, Tom returned the wand to the counter.
“Red oak and phoenix tailfeather,” Indigo muttered as she returned each wand to the box. Indigo looked up, her eyes meeting Tom’s. “It’s been ages since we had a challenge.” She smirked. “My sisters will be jealous when I tell them about this later.”
“I-I don’t think phoenix tailfeather is c-correct either,” Myrtle mumbled. She stared at Tom. “H-his magic kind of flickers like a fire, but’s smooth.”
Frowning, Indigo turned her attention to the younger witch. “Your abilities are fascinating,” she stated. “You said you’re a muggle-born?”
Myrtle nodded.
“I wonder,” Indigo muttered, her blue scanning over Myrtle.
Without another word, Indigo gathered up the wands and she walked off.
Myrtle walked closer to Tom. “I-I’ve always seen things,” she whispered, her voice soft, “I-I thought magic might explain, but now I don’t know.”
“You’re like me,” Tom told her. “You’re special. I talk to snakes,”
Myrtle’s eyes widened.
Tom pressed his lips together, waiting for Myrtle’s reaction.
“That makes sense,” she said. “I think I see magic.” She paused, leaning in closer. “Yours is, like, hissing like a snake and it’s brighter than anyone else’s.”
That interested Tom.
“What does it look like?” he asked.
Myrtle shook her head. “Everyone has, like, this cloud around them. Magic like sparkles. Muggles are like dull.”
Tom frowned as he tried to follow what the witch was saying. It was a little hard since he didn’t understand what Myrtle was talking about. “We’ll have to look for books,” he suggested.
Green eyes lit up as Myrtle smiled.
Indigo returned a moment later with ten new boxes. She quickly pulled each wand out and placed them on the counter.
Like last time, Tom ran his hand over each wand as Myrtle watched.
“N-none of them,” she said, shaking her head. “I-I think Tom needs something more snake-like. His cloud and magic slither.”
“Aura,” Indigo corrected. She returned each wand to its box. “The cloud surrounding a person is called an aura.”
Her words caught the attention of Tom and Myrtle. They stared at her, wanting to hear more.
The witch looked up, meeting their gazes. She frowned. “You have a rare gift,” she explained. “It’s called aura sight. You can see auras and magic. With time, you’ll be able to see emotions.”
Myrtle frowned as she stared at the older witch. “You’re excited,” she muttered, “and you’re hiding something.”
The witch raised an eyebrow. “You’ll be a strong witch,” she stated. “Aura sight is considered a pure-blood gift,” She smiled. “I expect you’re descending from a pure-blood family or two.”
Myrtle frowned, looking over at Tom.
Tom was confused. Pure-blood was a new term to him as well. He had to be like muggle-born.
“A pure-blood is a witch or a wizard who can trace magic back for generations in their family,” Indigo explained. She frowned. “I believe there’s an introductory book, and I would have assumed Hogwarts handed it out.”
Shaking her head, Indigo continued, “A muggle-born is a witch or a wizard with muggle parents. A half-blood is a witch or a wizard with both in their family.” She paused for a moment. “There’s also a squib. A non-magical child born to magical parents.”
Tom listened closely, memorizing the information. He knew this would be valuable.
Indigo stared at Myrtle. “When you’re older,” she began, “you’ll have to get an Inheritance Test gone at Gringotts. They’re expensive and there are a lot of fees involved to claim vaults.”
“What’s Gringotts?” Myrtle asked.
Indigo paused, staring at the younger witch. “What did your guide tell you?” she asked with a frown.
Myrtle recoiled a little, her eyes dropping to her feet. “N-not much,” she muttered. “T-Travers g-give m-me my l-list and h-he l-left. H-he said-d s-something a-about m-mudbood-ds.”
The expression on Indigo’s face hardened. “Professor Colum Travers said ‘mudblood’ in your presence?” the woman demanded.
Biting her lip, Myrtle gave a small, jerky nod.
Tom reached out, placing a hand on Myrtle’s arm.
The girl flinched away.
If this was someone else, Tom would be annoyed.
Indigo hummed as she watched the pair. Her blue eyes were blazing. “After we sort out your wands,” she began, “you’ll be staying for lunch. One of my sisters will be back later, and I’ll escort you shopping.”
The witch muttered something under her breath before she gathered up the boxes and she stalked off.
“S-she r-r-really m-mad-d,” Myrtle muttered, wrapping her arms around her stomach.
“Not at you,” Tom stated.
Myrtle shrugged.
“Who hits you?” he asked. He saw other children at the orphanage react like this.
The girl flinched again.
He was satisfied that she didn’t argue or lie.
“M-maybe w-we can g-get b-books on m-magical abilities?” Myrtle suggested.
“I think we’ll need a lot of books,” Tom said. “There’s a lot to learn.”
Myrtle was looking up at Tom, and she still had her arms wrapped around her stomach.
A silence fell over them.
Indigo returned a moment later with another ten boxes. She had the boxes and the wands laid out on the counter.
Tom stepped forward, and he ran his hand above each wand.
“The fifth one,” Myrtle said.
Tom picked it up. He felt a rush of warmth and a sense of wholeness. Sparks danced from the tip.
“Twelve and a quarter inches,” began Indigo, “aspen with a feather from a winged-serpent.” Something flashed in her blue eyes. “In the right hands, this will be a powerful wand. The wielder is loyal and true to themselves. They can accomplish great things.”
Determination filled Tom at her words.
“Pick out a wandholder and a polishing kit,” she told Tom.
Indigo turned her attention to Myrtle. “You’re next,” she stated.
Myrtle gave a small nod before she stepped forward. She raised both her shaking hands, “I-I’m ambidextrous,” she muttered. “I u-used m-my l-left hand-d b-before it b-br-broke and then I s-started using my r-right hand-d.”
Something about her words made Tom frown. He didn’t have a feeling that Myrtle was lying, but she wasn’t telling the complete truth.
Indigo said nothing as she twirled her hand. The tape measured appeared. The wand moved in a circular motion, and the tape measure started measuring. When the measurements were done, the older witch twirled her wand again and the tape measure disappeared.
“Can you see your own magic or aura?” Indigo asked.
“I-I d-don’t th-think so,” Myrtle muttered, looking down at her fingers.
Indigo nodded. “I do like a good challenge,” she muttered as she turned to walk down the rows.
Tom turned his attention to the small display of polishing kits and wandholders. He quickly selected a dark green wrist holster and a basic polishing kit.
When Indigo returned, she was carrying three boxes. She opened the first box and offered the wand to Myrtle. “Eleven inches, cedar and dragon heartstrings,” the woman explained.
With a shaking hand, Myrtle took the wand. She shook her head, quickly returning the wand.
Indigo offered a second wand. “Eleven inches, holly with unicorn tail hair,” she explained.
Myrtle had barely wrapped her fingers around the holder before she withdrew her hand.
The third wand was offered. “Eleven inches, vine with a phoenix tailfeather,” Indigo explained.
Myrtle took the wand. She tilted her head as she stared at the wand in her hand. Slowly, she shook her head and she returned the wand.
“Phoenix tailfeathers are a rare core,” Indigo stated, glancing between them. “Out of the standard cores, it’s the best fit for you both, but it’s not the correct match.”
Myrtle’s eyes narrowed.
This was more information that Tom was eager to learn. To him, this just proved the two of them were special.
Indigo gathered the boxes before walking off.
Tom walked back to Myrtle’s side. He stared down at her. The more time he spent around her, the clearer it became to him that Myrtle was his . She was special, and Tom was going to keep her for himself.
When Indigo returned, she carried five boxes. Those were placed on the counter, and the first wand was presented to Myrtle. “Ten and a half inches, ebony and griffin feather,” she explained.
Tom watched as Myrtle took the wand before quickly returning it, shaking her head.
“Ten and a quarter inches, pear with an augurey feather.”
Myrtle took the wand, and she stared at it for a few seconds before shaking her head. The wand returned.
“Eleven and a half inches, alder with a thunderbird feather.”
When Myrtle took this wand, her eyes widened and her lips parted a little. Silver sparks erupted from the tip.
“You’ll be an incredible witch,” Indigo stated, staring at Myrtle. “This wand tells me you’re helpful and aware of your surroundings. You will find Transfiguration and non-verbal magic come easier, and your curses will be more powerful.” She paused for a moment. “Trust your instincts. I have a feeling danger will find you two.”
The witch turned her attention to collecting the boxes and returning them to the shelves.
“Why can’t you use magic for that?” Myrtle asked.
Indigo paused, staring at Myrtle for a few seconds before answering, “It’s a long explanation with a lot of magical theory, but the short version is unclaimed wands won’t work properly or as powerfully if they’re exposed to magic prior to bonding their witch or wizard.”
As the older witch walked off with the boxes, Myrtle turned her attention to the small display. She picked a gray wrist holster and a basic polishing kit.
“How much do you think this will cost?” Myrtle asked. She placed her items on the counter and she withdrew a small wad of bills from her pocket.
“I don’t think that’s going to work here,” Tom told her, pulling out the bag of coins. “I got these from Dumbledore.” He opened the bag and he took out a bronze coin, a silver coin, and a gold coin.
Myrtle frowned, looking at the coins. “I don’t have those,” she muttered, “and I don’t know where to find them.”
“We’ll go to Gringotts after lunch,” Indigo told them as she returned. Motioning to the coins, she listened, “Bronze knut, silver sickle, and a golden galleon.”
“Is it real gold?” Myrtle asked, looking at the coins.
“Of course,” the older witch replied. She frowned, eyeing the bills in Myrtle’s hand. “I take it muggles don’t use gold.”
Both Tom and Myrtle shook their hands.
“What are the monetary differences?” Myrtle asked.
“Twenty-nine knuts to a sickle,” Indigo answered, “and seventeen sickles to a galleon.”
“How much does all these cost?” the muggle-born questioned, pointing to her items.
“The wand is nine galleons,” Indigo responded, “the polishing kit is ten sickles, and the holster is six sickles.”
Myrtle frowned as she stared down at her items.
Tom glanced at the coins in his bag. That was nearly ten galleons, and most of the galleons in his bag. How much would all these supplies cost?
“Don’t worry about paying,” Indigo said, waving her hand.
Tom looked at her with narrowed eyes. Was that supposed to mean something?
“I need to speak with my sisters, but I plan on hiring you,” the older witch said, pointing to Myrtle. “Your talents will be useful.”
Myrtle shot an uneasy glance at Tom.
“What would that entail?” Tom asked, crossing his arms.
Indigo looked at them with a raised eyebrow. “You’ll both work six hours a day,” she explained, “in exchange for your wands and supplies, room, and board.”
“What do I tell my parents?” Myrtle asked, biting her lip.
“Your education began early,” Indigo responded. “You’ll also learn about our culture and traditions.”
“What about magic?” Tom asked eagerness in his tone.
Indigo’s blue eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “You’ll learn the basics,” she replied, “and magical theory, but most of your spellwork will wait until Hogwarts.”
Tom and Myrtle looked at each other.
Tom was excited. He didn’t want to return to the orphanage and all the muggles.
Myrtle looked conflicted.
He would have to find a way to persuade her.