Tom Stark-Malfoy

With the knight bus now gone, I twisted on my heel and opened my eyes to a view I had long missed. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine the fountains we have behind each of the bush hedges that frame a pathway towards our gate. I still remember freely soaring on my broom in the fields around the fountains, waving toward mother and father. My father's smile practically gleaming with pride as I do my first Woollongong Shimmy between the perfectly trimmed trees. My mother screaming Abaddon whenever I fly even just a tiny bit higher than the treetops.

My pace towards our gate gets more hurried with every stride, almost hopping in anticipation. Will I see them again? Will I get to hug them again? See their smiles. Hear their laughter. But then I come to a complete stop three feet away from the gate.

The pure silver gate, untarnished in my memories, was now as black as the dirt covered pavement below it. The hinges crusted from years of staying closed. If only it were black paint, but that is not the case. The whole gate had been covered in silver oxide.

I slowly bring my hand forth, careful to touch the rough metal frame. But even if I bȧrėly even touched it, the hinges gave out and the gate crashed down with a loud clank. I froze in place, out of fear of being discovered trespassing, but no one came. Not even an elf.

I looked behind me and saw my footprints clear as day. They were the only parts that had disturbed the dust that had settled on the ground. Dread ran down my spine as I thought 'If the outside is like this, what would it look like inside?'

But I quickly shook my head at the absurdity. Steadying my heart, I paced myself to enter the house in slow but confident strides. I am not afraid. I will see everything with my very own eyes. Oh, how I was tempted to turn around and go back to my warm bed and our spotless Mansion. But I need to see everything here, for here is my home, my memories, my life, my. . . family.

I pushed the Mannor's large door, not surprised to see it open without a hitch. I strode inside, eyes darting around to everything I could remember. Memories merging with vision, covered by layers and layers of dust. And by Merlin, I see in the corners of the room, the largest dust bunnies I have even seen. I wouldn't be surprised if they sprouted eyes and fangs, ready to pounce and eat me whole. Monstrosities reaching more than a foot tall spanning the length of the whole wall.

I feared for my life and cast the strongest Tergeo I could summon, but even that could only make the room slightly decent. Well, at least now the monstrosities lurking at the corners of the room and under the furniture are how gone.

"WHO'S THERE!!!"

A low domineering voice thundered through the silence that haunted the mansion. The owner's voice was husky, cracking at syllables, and threatening with anger at the uninvited trespasser. But I will not cower! How could I, the inheritor of this house, flee from some homeless bum that managed to enter my house? I turned towards the stairs where I heard loud footsteps come closer.

I summoned power into my voice, and made sure to speak in a lower octave, making sure that the man knows who the REAL owner of this house is.

"WHO-?!"

My voice got cut off from my throat as I faced a man so familiar to me. His long hair, messy and tangled with things I dare know not, eyes bloodshot, hollow, and crusted yellow and white all around, cheeks sunken from malnourishment, skin yellow and grey from lack of sun and an unhealthy diet, feet bȧrė and dirtied, and clothes like rags draped on his lithe form. Yet I could still sense power from his glare, his muscled tensing, ready to pounce or fight at any moment, and his clothes, though rags, were made from the finest of silks and dragon hide leather.

A figure so familiar yet forgotten. An image that I myself have sported on my last few years in my past life. An image, that blended perfectly with my memory of power and perfection, yet tarnished from the unkindness of time.

His grey eyes grew brighter, and wider as he gazed at me. His hand raised towards me, weaker, shaking and unsure, yet desperate. I wanted to run, but I felt as thought I could bȧrėly breathe, let alone walk. So I forced my mind into overdrive to move my limbs one at a time.

As we got closer, I could see his eyebrows scrunch up and his eyes fill up with tears and love. I could see his lower lip shaking in disbelief. I noticed strands of grey and white in his once pristine blond hair, and my vision got blurry with tears.

"Who are you?" His voice rang in my ears. How could I not recognze this voice? The voice that raised me for 17 years.

"I-. . . I-" My throat was dry, so I swallowed a gulp of saliva.

His eyes were unrelenting and blazed with power, they wouldn't let me rest.

"I'm Tom." .

His eyes squinted in contemplation, yet they were still perusing me for any flaw, any sign that was just the slightest bit wrong. I closed my eyes and steadied myself.

"My name is Tom Stark. And... I have reason to believe my birth family lived in this property. May I ask-?"

. . .

"Lucius."