Ginevra Riddle

Dark Princess in Hiding

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'Once upon a time'. The phrase applied to so many other stories. This story is different from those. The English countryside was a usually quiet sanctuary in the small town of Ottery St. Catchpole. This day was the exact opposite as the townspeople heard the familiar screams of a woman giving birth echoed across the fields.

"YOU BLOODY PRAT! NEVER AGAIN! I DON"T CARE IF IT ISN'T A GIRL! NEVER AGAIN!" screeched through the village before being followed by many vulgarities. Young mothers covered their children's ears until the screaming subsided. There was silence for a while.

"Oh! She's Beautiful!" the echo cooed. Every villager knew who was talking, Molly Weasley had given birth to her seventh child. Although she was friends with most of the mothers in town, every muggle in Ottery St. Catchpole thought that the Weasleys had a few oddities. Mrs. Weasley had never heard of a phone or a television. She only came to the market to buy food with strange bronze coins.

"Mummy! Mummy!" two twins cried inside the house and ran towards her bed. They were followed by the rest of the Weasley clan into the room. The little girl had just been cleaned and was sleeping in her mother's arms.

"Say hello to your little sister, boys." Molly cooed. "Little Ginevra Weasley." She stared adoringly at the baby that gurgled happily at her brothers. Ginevra reached out to grab little Ron's finger as he tried to poke her. He drew back with a cry of surprise. It was the wrong move, because little Ginevra started wailing loudly. Every other of the baby's older brothers tried to cheer her up, but to no avail. Her mother finally got up and rocked her soothingly until the small child fell asleep.

"Mummy?" Ron Weasley asked when all was quiet. "Why did the baby cry?" he asked in a small 1-year-old voice.

"You have to be gentle with her Ron, she doesn't like surprises." Charlie said.

"Oh." Was all the little boy could answer. He didn't know that the baby was important. He didn't even know it was a baby. And it didn't look like him or his brothers. It looked like an outsider.

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A few months after the birth of Ginevra, now called Ginny, in the dead night of October 31st, a figure entered into the nursery bed chambers. The figure was dressed in all black and had the hood of it's cloak covering it's ivory face. Without so much as a step being heard the figure glided over to the crib that held what was suppose to be the new babe.

"Little Ginevra." The figure said while picking up the body. A drowsy Ronald, now 2, screamed loudly as he was being picked up. Upon hearing the scream, the figure dropped Ron back into his crib and swiftly lifted the child in the next crib, turning to leave. His face was five inches from a shaking wand and an angry Arthur Weasley.

"Put my daughter down." Molly Weasley said slowly behind him. The figure cackled as if she had just cracked a funny joke.

"Your daughter?" the figure lifted his hood from his face to reveal his marred compaction. "I believe you are mistaken. For, even though she is born with Weasley blood in her, the girl will be a Riddle. Little Ginevra Merope Riddle. Pack her possessions and I will come to take her tomorrow mourning after I finish my business out." He ordered. "Selwyn and Travers will be watching to make sure you do." Little Ron got down from his crib and tugged at Voldemort's robes. He instantly was levitated by a Death Eater at the door.

"Ron!" She cried.

"He will be fine as long as you do as I say." Then the Dark Lord vanished, leaving a now crying Ginevra at the loss of touch. He was announced dead that night. Defeated by a small boy with a scar.

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Eleven years later, Ginny Molly Weasley was shopping for her school supplies in Flourish and Blotts. Not many people shared her views, and it was close to impossible to say them at home, her family would have her hanged. Ginny was contemplating how stuck up Famous Harry Potter might actually be when she met them.

They were blond, yes, looking like aristocratic albinos. They were a Son and a Father, the father being a past Death Eater. The Malfoys were purebloods, never strayed from the pureblood lines, though Weasleys had purer blood, it was mostly by accident. Both ancient bloodlines hated each other with venom. Then why was it, that they made sense? That they believed what she believed to be the only right way? But, then, the boy accused her of the most horrifying thing. He called her Potter's girlfriend. The Father hushed him when he saw Ginny's face contort in rage at the boy. No one else noticed.

"Never call me something so horrible." She whispered to the boy when she was close enough. He raised his barely noticeable eyebrows in surprise. Father Malfoy silenced him again and slipped her the diary of T. M. Riddle.

Later that night, she opened the journal and started to write.

'Hello?' her writing soaked into the page making no signs that she even wrote in the book.

'Hello, who are you?' the diary wrote back. She didn't want to answer, but her hand instinctively wrote down her name. 'Pleasure to see you again, Ginevra. I remember the day that I came for you. The same day that I tried to kill the Potter family.'

'Excuse me? That would mean you are the Dark Lord. It's terrible that you didn't finish the job. Potter gets on my nerves.' She admitted. Contrary her family's believes, she did not have a crush on the Boy-Who-Lived. She thought for a moment. 'Wait a minute… why would you come for me?'

'I was researching on how to find a heir a few years ago. Upon my studies, I fond information about "Soul-Children". It means that, although rarely found, all children and adults correspond with each other as daughters, sons, fathers, and mothers. The catch is that not all biological parents have their soul-children. Even though you are biologically Weasley, you are my soul-daughter.' Ginevra was in shock for a while before slowly smiling.

'As long as we both are fine with the facts, would I be calling you Father anytime soon?'

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AN: Sooooo, first chapter. Yeah. Anyways, don't own HP or any other books or movies or characters or props or scenes or shoes or yo-yos or bubble gums. Review if you like my very broke style of writing. Just remember that I am not an amazing writer. Tell me what you think, try to predict what will happen. 'Cause I already know what will happen. again, so you listen, REVIEW!! REVIEW!! REVIEW!!

Thank you