Modification || T. Riddle || Completed

Chapter 21: The Allure of Darkness

"So who lives there?" Estela asked as they walked.

"The Gaunt family," He replied simply, making his up the snowy hill with ease.

"The Gaunts..." She said quietly, more to herself than to Tom. She thought she'd heard that name somewhere. Ah, yes. That was it. "Aren't they one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight? I'm sure I've heard that name before in a book."

Tom looked at her sideways and nodded, his brows rising ever-so-slightly as though he was mildly impressed.

"And I suppose they've got one of these items you're looking for, have they?" She asked cautiously.

Tom glanced down at her. "Perhaps. But that's not why we're going there."

"Then why are we going there?" She inquired, her breaths becoming heavy as she struggled to plough through the thick snow that covered the entire hill.

"To speak to one of the Gaunts. Marvolo Gaunt."

Estela's gaze instantly flicked towards him. "Marvolo? But you're... So he's your father?"

"Not quite. He's my grandfather." He said as he continued walking.

Estela swallowed. She had always just assumed that Tom didn't have any remaining family. After all, he was an orphan, just like she had been. So then why hadn't they taken him in? Why had they left him alone in an orphanage? It didn't make sense to her. Yet here they were in Little Hangleton, a remote little village in the middle of nowhere, trekking through the snow-strewn streets to see Tom's grandfather.

The way Tom had spoken the name, though... the way each letter rolled off of his lips - made something within her stir with anxiety. And as they reached the top of the hill, she had a very bad feeling about what was coming.

They both made their way through a gap in the hedge they had passed on their way to the Inn last night, and from there they went down a narrow dirt track bordered by high and wild hedgerows. The path sloped downwards like the last one, and it seemed to be heading for a patch of dark trees a little below them. Sure enough, the track soon opened up at the copse, and Estela came to a halt behind Tom, who had stopped and drawn his wand. Despite it being daytime, it was still very dark outside, and heavy dark clouds encompassed the sky above, restricting the sunlight from entering.

Estela's eyes discerned the building half-hidden amongst the tangle of trunks. It seemed to her a very strange location to choose for a house, or else an odd decision to leave the trees growing nearby, blocking all the light and the view of the valley below. She wondered whether it was actually inhabited, its walls were mossy and so many tiles had fallen off the roof that the rafters were visible in places. Nettles grew all around it, their tips reaching the windows, which were tiny and thick with grime.

Tom gave Estela a quick glance before making his way towards the front door. Estela stopped again, staring at the front door, to which somebody had nailed a dead snake. Estela tugged on Tom's sleeve but he ignored her and continued walking towards the door. Tom knocked on the door and there was silence. Estela could feel her heart racing. She didn't like the look of this place one bit.

The door creaked open, and Tom entered the house without hesitation. The house was more indescribably filthy that anywhere Estela had ever seen. The ceiling was thick with cobwebs, the floor coated in grime; mouldy and rotting food lay upon the table amidst a mass of crusted pots.

Tom's eyes moved slowly around the hovel before focusing on a man sat in an armchair. The man was extremely skinny, had a hunched back, skin so dull he looked seriously ill, and eyes that pointed in different directions. He was slumped in an armchair by the fire. The man had a beard and hair so overgrown that you could hardly see his face.