Chapter 1: Haunting Relations
As the train pulled to a stop, lightning struck illuminating Hogwarts, the lake, and its grounds, Hermione, Ron, and Harry jumped out of their car on the train and groaned. It was raining, just like in their third year, and Hermione was complaining about her hair getting wet.
"It looks fine 'mione, and besides, just fix it when we get in. Now hurry up we're getting soaked!" Ron had no sympathy for his girlfriend's hair, but was just as eager reach the dry warmth of the carriages. "C'mon Harry, let's go!"
"You two go ahead, I forgot my bag of Chocolate Frogs." Harry turned around and raced back into their compartment. He grabbed his bag and headed back out into the dark night. As he reached the door, the train shook, and something fell on top of him.
"I'm so sorry, the train shook and I lost my balance," the thing on top of him said. Turns out the thing, was a she, a very pretty she. She picked herself off of Harry, gracefully, and stuck a hand out to help him up.
"That's ok, you can fall on me anytime," Harry said without thinking.
"Excuse me! Geez, you're just as bad as that arrogant little blonde bas-" she exclaimed.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking properly. Don't let Malfoy get to you," Harry interrupted.
"Who said he got to me? You Hogwarts boys are so rude and self-centered."
"Ah, so you are from another school," Draco Malfoy appeared in the doorway, leaning on its frame.
"You...you..." the girl was speechless, she was so angry.
"You dropped your book, the one about the Dark Arts. We have something in common, because I love the dark and its 'Arts'," Draco replied smoothly, as if he hadn't angered her at all.
"I doubt she has anything in common with a bouncing ferret like you, Malfoy. Shove off and give her some peace," Harry spoke, coming to the girl's defense.
"Please Potter, don't you have some more tears to spill over that Sirius Black? I was trying to have a civilized conversation with my girl here," Draco stood up his full height, as if to intimidate Harry.
"I'm not your girl," the festered female said. "C'mon Harry. I already feel my I.Q. dropping in his presence." She grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him out into the rain. Then she realized her mistake, she didn't know Harry and didn't have any friends at Hogwarts. She was all alone and just insulted the first person to give her a chance. Harry sensing her retreat spoke.
"Why don't you come ride in a carriage with me? Hermione and Ron won't mind, they'll be making out anyway."
"Ok, sure! Thank you!" They found an empty carriage and climbed in. "I guess your wondering how I knew your name."
"Not really, how many Potters' do you know?" Harry answered. "But I am wondering what your name is."
"I'm Lindsey," Lindsey answered. "I'm a transfer student from Durmstrang, my father wanted me to be closer to him, since Voldemort has come back."
"Durmstrang. That's cool, did you know Victor Krum?" Harry inquired
"Yeah, we briefly dated, but he really loved flying and I can't stand heights. We broke it off after a month of the whole on-again-off-again." Lindsey said.
"Sounds like there's a story there!"
"My past is pretty haunting, lots of skeletons in my closet, unfortunately," she laughed, already feeling at ease with him. "I'm an open book. Is there anything you wish to know about me, Lindsey Riddle?"
"Riddle?" Harry said, questioning the name. He was confused, her last name is Riddle and she said Voldemort without the slightest trace of fear. "Are you into the Dark Arts?"
"No, I am reading about them to further my studies of the Defense Against the Dark Arts. I believe that if we're to conquer those who practice them, we must know of them. Why'd you ask?"
"The book Malfoy had. He said it was of the Dark Arts. You're not related to Voldemort are you?"
"Well that was quick, we're here," Lindsey climbed out of the carriage.
"Lindsey," Harry grabbed her hand. It was warm, in spite of the cold air, as if someone lit a fire and she had just warmed her hands. "I need to know, are you related to him?"
"Where would you have gotten a crazy idea like that? Riddle is a very common last name!" Lindsey defended herself, looking at the ground.
"You have a book on the Dark Arts, you attended Durmstrang, a school which is known for teaching the Arts, you said Voldemort with flinching, and your last name is the same as his. Just give me a straight answer; do you have relations to Voldemort?"
"Harry," Lindsey sighed and looked him in the eyes. "If I was related to him, would you still be my friend? Or would you leave and never talk to me again?
"That depends on your relation to him."
"Harry, please let's just go inside. It doesn't matter who I'm related to. Voldemort never had any sons, how would I have the last name Riddle?"
"Good point. I'm sorry, it's just..." Harry trailed off, remembering what Dumbledore had told him last term, he was to kill or be killed.
"Just what?" Lindsey asked. Harry shook his head, water went in every direction, indicating he wasn't willing to be as open as she was, or had been.
"Well, we all have our secrets, Harry. That's what makes life interesting." Lindsey turned and walked up the star. "I just want to be friends, you're really nice Harry. I would never hurt you, but secrets ruin relationships before they start. So I'll come clean, if you must know. I am Voldemort's granddaughter."
She walked up the stairs to the castle, tears running down her face. How come she had to be cursed with a grandfather who spread terror into the entire wizarding world? Next thing, he'd be asking who her father was. All she wanted was a friend, maybe a boyfriend who wasn't a stuck-up show-off. She reached the top of the stairs when Harry called her name. She turned, and watched him run up the stairs, skipping every other one. He got real close to her face-she could see every detail in his beautiful green eyes-and spoke in a whisper,
"You led me on. You were a lying deceitful bitch and told me you didn't have an interest in the Dark Arts. You told me you couldn't be related to him, that he didn't have any sons. You were misguiding, all because of your bloody grandfather, and I want you to know," Harry raised one of his hands, as if to slap her. Then...
