Chapter One:
She's A What?
If you were to ask anyone what they thought of the Riddle family living on Gloucester Road, they would automatically tell you they were not only some of the most refined people on the street, but also in the whole town. They were the most unlikely people you would expect to be related to the most powerful dark sorcerer in the world; it was mostly from the fact that no one in that family believe in anything supernatural or magical.
Mr. John Thomas Riddle belonged to the Science Department of Oxford University located in London, where he worked as a Professor at the local school. Despite his old age, he was a good-looking fellow who could have passed as being in his late 40s. Mr. Riddle was not only lean, but also tall. He had once possessed sleek dark hair and a face build like a god's, but with the help of old age, Mr. Riddle's features had changed significantly. His hair was styled with a wavy grease, partial strands flipping over his eyes, and his once god-like face was now sagging; facial hair hardened his skin. Thanks to his cold blue eyes, Mr. Riddle never seemed to have any problem getting what he wanted. Even John's lovely wife Elizabeth had a problem refusing anything from her husband.
Mrs. Riddle was small and petite compared to her husband, who was twenty-five years her senior. She was the very image people had of a native Greek woman. She had long flowing mocha hair that reached the small of her back and hazel eyes that would pin one down like a shot arrow. Even with fortunate looks like her own she never bothered to use them to her advantage. Mrs. Riddle spent most of her days cooped up at home drawing and writing children's novels not only for children all over the world, but for her own daughter as well.
The Riddles had a small 11-year-old girl whom they called Cilia, or as most liked to say, Ciel. Both parents couldn't have asked for a better daughter. She had been gifted by the two of them, possessing dark eyes and hair like her mother, but a lively face just like her father. Looks weren't the only thing that seemed to have passed down generically: their daughter's eagerness to learn was also noticeable. Ciel was fervent to one day grow up and become an alchemist, for the persuasion of her father had led her to find Science exciting. She loved the fact that the mixing of two chemicals could produce a different substance or reaction. Even though she took academic classes seriously, Ciel just loved to read stories. She had a penchant for love stories, particularly those such as Romeo and Juliet and Pride and Prejudice. To Mr. And Mrs. Riddle, their daughter was the best thing either one of them could have asked for.
The Riddles had all they could have asked for in life. They had a luxurious Tudor styled home in London and a steady income to support themselves. Everything seemed to have been perfect in their lives until one year, at the time when August first came fluttering by.
August the first seemed to have been just like any normal day. The summer sun was up and completely convenient, not only for the little 11-year-old Cilia but for her mother as well. The weather was perfect, not too hot or too cold, and the sun was high in the air and a nice breeze was able to roll over the grass.
Cilia was on the swings in the local park singing a tune from the radio. She was excited for the new school year at the neighboring Academy. The summer had felt too long already for the child and she could no longer hold in her excitement of the thought of seeing her mates from school.
Mrs. Riddle sat on one of the benches, with another local mother. The two women held magazines on their laps, chattering like old friends. Mrs. Riddle didn't pay much attention to her daughter as she swung around with grace, her loose pants ruffling with the breeze.
"Mum, mum, look at me!" The eleven-year-old called. The girl's mother glanced up from the other mother beside her. She smiled sweetly at her only daughter, her lips forming into an almost perfect smile. As soon as the child saw her mother smile at her, she let go of the swing.
Mrs. Riddle found her daughter launched through the air. Ciel's legs kicked the air and she flew from the swings a few yards away to the dirt floor. Mrs. Riddle wasn't able to stop herself from gasping as her daughter fell on her knees first, followed by the rest of her body.
"Are you alright darling?" She called toward her daughter, her bottom already on the edge of her seat. Cilia craned her small neck off of the mud and gave her mother a goofy grin.
"I'm alright mum." The small brunette picked her light body off of the playground floor. She rushed over to her mother, skipping with joy. She wasn't aware of the disapproving look her mother was giving her. The only thing that the girl thought about was how much fun it was to fly across the air. If she could have wished for anything in the world, it would be to one day fly in the air like a bird.
"Sweetie, you shouldn't be jumping like that, you might hurt yourself next time."
"But mum," the daughter threw her arms over her mother's neck and hugged her tightly. "I like flying through the air. I feel like a bird when I do so." Cilia's mother kissed her cheek making sure to not get any of her cherry lipstick on her angels face.
"Yes, I know, dear, just like a bird. Now let me see those hands of yours." Mrs. Riddle pulled her daughter off of her gently and took a peak at her small palms. She was rattled. Cilia watched her mother's eyes; they were cold. She hated when her mum's eyes got like that. "You scraped your hands pretty badly dear."
"It's not a big deal. The scrapes don't hurt." Ciel pulled her hands out of her mum's grasp hugging them to her not yet developed chest. "Don't worry about it please."
"No, I think it's best if we go home, then I can put something on it."
"Mum," The child whined in her high-pitched voice. Mrs. Riddle kissed her daughter's cheek one more time and sat up from the bench. "Mum please; let me stay just a little bit longer. I swear I won't jump off of the swings again."
"Your father should have dinner soon. It's about time we go." Cilia gave her mother a very gloomy expression. The latter simply gave her daughter the same exact look back only to mock her. "Let's go."
Mrs. Riddle said her goodbyes to her friend on the bench. She and her daughter headed back to their perfect white home in a hurry. As she and her child walked into their residence, the first thing she noticed was that something was off. The home didn't have the same presence it had when they had left. The dream home was now quiet, but at the same time much warmer than it had been when the two of them had left. She was sure her husband had finished preparing the dinner for that night and even managed to boil tea during his wait.
"Jonathan," Mrs. Riddle called as she and her daughter walked into the warm house, closing the wooden door behind the two of them.
Mrs. Riddle heard a throat clear. "Lizi-er- I'm in the living room. Is Cilia with you?" Her husband sounded muffled. The tone made Mrs. Riddle frown momentarily, but she smiled once more as she refused to let her daughter see her act in such a way.
"Yes, Cilia's with me, is there something wrong dear?" Mrs. Riddle poked her head into the living room. She realized why the house had been so quiet: they had a guest.
A man with silver hair sat on the couch opposite of her husband. He had what seemed to be purple a silk bathrobe on, his silver mane resting on his lap.
Mr. Riddle sat on his 'special' chair, sipping from the porcelain teacups that the family used. He was sitting silently, glancing down at a letter on his lap. The strange man on the couch remained unvoiced, but his blue eyes pierced the woman and her daughter through his half-moon spectacles.
"J-John, would you like to introduce us?" Mrs. Riddle moved the remaining part of her body from the corner of the entrance, dragging along her dirty princess with her. Mr. Riddle shot his head away from the letter, but kept holding it tightly.
"He says his name is Albus Dumbledore. He's a teacher from some sort of institute," said Mr. Riddle stiffly.
Mrs. Riddle nodded toward her spouse slowly and smiled at the old man.
"Hello, I'm Elizabeth Riddle. I'm John's wife." Mrs. Riddle held out her hand toward the man with the half-moon spectacles. The man, Albus, smiled with his blue eyes and took the woman's hand in response, giving her a friendly shake.
"It's a pleasure meeting you as well. As your husband has cleared up; I'm Albus Dumbledore. I'm the Headmaster of a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer your daughter a place at my school- her new school, if she would like to attend."
"That sounds lovely." Mrs. Riddle smiled in delight. She had always known her daughter was smart. She received good grades in her Academy and all her teachers loved her. Mrs. Riddle looked down at Ciel for a moment and then over at her husband who still hadn't loosened up. Mr. Riddle took another sip of his black tea and placed the cup back on its appropriate cozy. "Jonathan, don't you think this is just lovely? I can't believe our daughter is being accepted into an institute. I can't wait to tell my family this, they will be so proud."
Her husband didn't share the same enthusiasm as her. He sat in his seat remaining to look bitter.
"Don't get your hopes up yet, Elizabeth. They want her to go to some rubbish school. I will not let my only daughter attend a good for nothing place like this." Mrs. Riddle shot her husband a nasty look. He was rude at times but usually never in front of guests.
"Well, I can come to a conclusion myself dear. Give me the letter please." Her husband handed her the parchment along with the envelope. He then slouched in his chair; acting just like a child. Elizabeth ignored her husband's attitude and read over the letter silently to herself. She was shocked.
"Mum what does it say? I want to look at the letter too!" Cilia squealed in eagerness. She had her hand gripped on the paper trying in the most civil way possible to peel the letter out of her mother's hands. Mrs. Riddle finally let go of the letter her daughter prayed so hard to get.
Ciel smiled in success. She glanced down at the fragile parchment in her hands and read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, first Class, Grand Sorc, Chf. Worlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)
Dear Miss. Riddle,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await for an owl no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
Questions bounced off of the walls of the young girls head. She wasn't quite sure how she was supposed to react when it came to the letter. Magic couldn't have possibly been real, but the thought that it could be possible began to float around her head. She couldn't believe they had a school for people who could do magic.
"So this Hogwarts place, it's an establishment for magic," Cilia questioned as Dumbledore made a small gesture with his head.
The questions began to build up once more in her head. "So you're telling me that magic really exists?"
"That is precisely what I am saying."
Cilia began to think back to her dream. She always dreamed about becoming an alchemist and getting involves with Science. Her mother used to tell her stories about wizards being able to turn simple metals into gold, but hearing now that these fables were true blew Ciel's mind.
"So alchemy really exists then."
Dumbledore smiled at the fascinated child. Ciel almost jumped from excitement.
"That's so cool! Can I go please, please, please?" laughed Cilia, who began to jump up and down in amusement.
Mr. Riddle snorted from his seat. He rolled his blue eyes in annoyance. He was furious at how easily his daughter was able to believe in such nonsense He always thought he had raised his daughter better. "No. I will not allow you to go. You are not going to some dimwitted school of magic," snapped Mr. Riddle.
"But, dad…"
"There is no such thing as magic!" said Mr. Riddle stiffly. His daughter glanced at him, her weight sinking down to her lit up sneakers. He didn't say another word on the subject. His daughter quietly stepped back away from both her mother and father, but she couldn't stop from looking at the letter. Mr. Riddle knew she was still blinded by curiosity.
"Jonathan, don't yell at her," begged the young Mrs. Riddle. The woman turned toward her guest, no longer smiling happily as she had before. "I have to agree with my husband on this one, Mr. Dumbledore, sir. As much as I would love to say that you're right, there is no proof magic even exists. All those old magic tricks done in the old days have been proven by science. It would be very…interesting… if it were real, but I must agree with my husband. Magic can't possibly exist."
The little girl in the back of the room turned even colder than she had been before. Her big hazel eyes reached out toward the Professor. She was begging him to prove her parents wrong. She wanted to go to the school so badly.
Dumbledore caught the young girl's pleading look. He gave her a small smile, eyes twinkling behind the glasses.
"I may prove it if you see fit." Mrs. Riddle stood on the balls of her feet. She too wanted proof of the supernatural, but feared to admit it in front of her husband, who she knew would protest about it later. Despite knowing the consequences that would occur if she agreed, she went and did so anyway. She gave a small motion with her head, which was more than enough for Dumbledore.
Dumbledore drew his wand from the inside of his robes. He held the piece of wood in his hands and pointed it at the teacup and other kitchen utensils that were placed in the living room. With his wand at hand, he gave a casual flick of the wrist.
The teacups and the plates all rose into the air, hovering silently for a moment. Mr. Riddle jumped in his seat, his eyes widened in shock. The entire Riddle family watched the dishes float gracefully toward the kitchen and into the sink, where a sponge came to assist the cleaning of the dishes. Mrs. Riddle and her daughter could hardly hold in their excitement. It was unbelievable and shocking, but at the same time mind-blowing and amazing.
Mrs. Riddle was completely convinced on the subject. There couldn't have been any scientific explanation for something like that. Gravity can't suddenly choose to give away in a certain area of the room, let alone allow the dishes to float to the sink to get washed.
On the other hand, Mr. Riddle was furious. He didn't care if he just saw the strange man levitate his dishes. He would stand by his statement. Magic wasn't real and it never would be in his eyes.
"Stop it right now," commanded Mr. Riddle. "I refuse to allow any more of this rubbish to continue in my house."
"John, stop it already, what more do you want?" Mr. Riddle looked frightened.
"There has to be a scientific explanation for that to happen. There is no such thing as-"
"So, Mr. Dumbledore," Mrs. Riddle cut her husband off. Dumbledore turned his attention away from the man of the house. "How do you know our daughter possesses anything magical about her?" Mrs. Riddle walked across the room and took a seat on one of the vacant chairs. Dumbledore let his eyes wonder away from Mrs. Riddle. He smiled at the young girl who hadn't moved an inch from her spot.
"We've been watching her for quite some time," Dumbledore's eyes trailed back to Mrs. Riddle's. "We strongly believe she posses magic."
Mrs. Riddle frowned. Not only had she not received an answer from Dumbledore, but the fact that the strange man had been watching her daughter for a while made her uneasy. Dumbledore turned back to the young girl and smiled. "Miss. Riddle, has there ever been a time that you were able to do something that was unexplained, something that shouldn't have been done with science?"
Mr. and Mrs. Riddle studied their daughter. Her pale face turned red. She snapped her head to the ground, watching her toes as she swayed her weight between her two feet.
"I don't know," whispered Cilia. "I guess I might have. There was this one time in school that I got angry at this one boy. It was strange, 'cause the next thing I knew the glass that was on the window shattered and broke all over the place."
Mr. Riddle jumped to his feet. "That doesn't prove anything strange goes on with my daughter. It was probably result of low air pressure, it was too much for the glass to-"
"John-" called Mrs. Riddle. The husband looked at his wife, about to beg her to allow him to finish, but changing his mind, he sat back down in his chair. Mrs. Riddle smiled and edged to the corner of her seat. "You believe something like the random breaking of glass means she's a witch?"
"It's just one of the many things that happens when children first start to show signs of having magical capability." Mrs. Riddle shared a look with her husband. She now got the same feeling her husband had, that Dumbledore must have been crazy. There was still no proof that her daughter had any magical traits. She was as normal as any other child in the neighborhood.
"I'm sorry; I just don't see how you can just determine something like that because of a window."
"The ministry of magic and myself had another reason in assuming she might also be a witch." Dumbledore brought his bony fingers to his beard. Mr. And Mrs. Riddle watched him flatten down his silver mane. "Now Mr. Riddle here plays a big role in this regrettably."
"Me?" Mr. Riddle was outraged not only had he not want to be part of any of this but he was the main source of it. Dumbledore nodded silently, as his fingers rolled a few strands against one another.
"Yes, Mr. Riddle, you. You see Mr. Riddle's half-brother-"
"I don't have any siblings," claimed Mr. Riddle. Dumbledore grinned with his eyes finally letting go of his strands.
"No siblings you know of. We've been watching you as well since you were in your teens." Mr. Riddle snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "As I was saying, your half-brother Tom Marvolo Riddle was also a wizard. His mother was a witch while your father was a muggle,"
"What's a muggle?" Questioned Ciel as she inched back into the room but steered clear away from her father.
"Oh dear, I did it again. A muggle, is what we call someone who doesn't possess any magic."
"Hold on, hold on, that's not possible," disagreed Mr. Riddle. "My father never married before he met my mother and he didn't have another lover."
"I suspect your father was ashamed and never wanted to admit it."
It was impossible to tell what Mr. Riddle was thinking; his face was as stiff as a board. It would have killed him to imagine that his father, a man he had looked up to for years, would ever have had such a dangerous past. When Mr. Riddle finished sulking, he turned to his wife for support.
"Mr. Dumbledore, if we were to allow our daughter to enter your school, what sort of benefits would she be receiving? I don't want to send her somewhere and then find out it's a waste." Mrs. Riddle smiled at her daughter, who was shaking in excitement. Even though Mrs. Riddle was nervous about the whole situation, she could tell that her daughter wanted to go to the school badly. To Mrs. Riddle, the choice of sending her daughter to a 'wizarding' school wouldn't have been bad if Cilia received lessons that would last her a life time.
"I had a feeling you would be the family to ask about that," chuckled Dumbledore. He reached into his robes once more, but this time pulled out another flat letter. He slid the parchment across the glass coffee table. Mrs. Riddle received it and found the list of courses and school expectations. "Being a first year student, Miss Riddle will be required to attend first year classes. These classes are Herbology, Charms, Transfigurations, A History of Magic, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy as well as Care for Magical Creatures. They will also have flying lessons-"
Cilia had eyes of greed: "Flying lessons, you're saying we're going to be taught to fly through the air?" Cilia's eyes filled more with passion as realization hit her. "Wait a minute, do we get to use broom sticks?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, flying requires a boom." Sure enough, Cilia stepped toward Dumbledore, her hands crushing the very important letters she was still holding. "In the wizarding world, we even have sports that require players to ride on brooms. Quidditch for example, is very popular; you could say it's like soccer for the non-magical folk."
Even though Cilia had no idea what Quidditch was or how to even play the game, she already had an idea in her head of wanting to do it as soon as she attended the school. It didn't matter how long it would take for her to achieve the goal, because all she aimed for was to one day play Quidditch and finally be able to fly through the air.
"Is there a Quidditch team at Hogwarts?" Cilia jumped on the balls of her feet. Mrs. Riddle giggled; her daughter looked just like an overly excited puppy dog.
"There are four very skilled teams at our school."
Dumbledore sounded like an old man thinking back about all of the childish things his kids used to do. He began to run his fingers down his beard once more shaking his head happily. Mrs. Riddle's daughter, still too immature to notice any difference, didn't pay any attention to the old man's habits. She remained on her toes bouncing happily.
"Can I join?" questioned Cilia.
"Indeed, but that's all in good time, my dear," said Dumbledore with a smile. The Professor turned away from Mrs. Riddle's only daughter and back to the mother herself. She was, after all, the person he was trying to convince. "Our school tries to achieve many goals but our main objective, in my eyes, is to teach you not only how to use the magic that you have, but also to control it. I believe most importantly that your daughter will discover many life lessons at our school. She will learn the act of conscientiousness, companionship, and strength. It would be an honor if young Miss. Riddle accepted our school's invitation."
"I bet it would be an honor," boasted Mr. Riddle bitterly from his chair. "What makes you think she won't be achieving any of these skills in a regular academy?"
"She could very well learn those life skills in other places, but Hogwarts is a privilege for the girl. At our school, your daughter will be around people just like her. You won't have to be concerned about her well being, as she will be completely safe under my watch, Mr. Riddle."
The un-amused Mr. Riddle muttered something on the lines of 'slick git'. He sank even lower into his seat. It didn't take a genius to figure out Mr. Riddle would never accept something so ludicrous as magic. He was a scientific type of person and had his philosophy hammered in his head.
Mrs. Riddle didn't bother to consult with her husband on the matter. Living with the man for fourteen years had taught the young lady that it would impossible to try and prove her husband wrong. It was his personally that made him so stiff. He was too old fashioned and hated to admit that he was wrong about anything.
"How much would this school be, then, Mr. Dumbledore?" Money was never an issue with the Riddle family. Mr. Riddle made enough money at the University so that they could have raised two more kids if they had wished. They were definitely still a middle class family, but chose to live in the upper middle class.
Dumbledore's sea blue eyes glittered. He had already known that Mrs. Riddle would have done something like that, for he was aware that money was no issue and also had a feeling that they wouldn't be anything like the rich families that lived back in the Wizarding World.
"Hogwarts is a free institute, but you must pay for the school books and robes yourself."
"Where can we purchase them?"
"In Diagon Alley," said Dumbledore "I have your list of school equipment with me. If you would like to see them, then look inside the envelope I just handed you. It has the complete list,"
Mrs. Riddle pulled out the other piece of paper that was tucked into the envelope. The complete supply list for first-year students at Hogwarts was listed in ink that read very clearly on the paper. Mrs. Riddle frowned unintentionally. She had never heard of most of the materials before.
"If there is any problem with getting the supplies, I could help you find everything you need."
"Can I go to the school, please mum, say yes," begged Cilia franticly.
Mrs. Riddle thought about it. Everything seemed so well planned out: the school, the materials, the courses, the expectations. Even though the school wasn't promoting the type of daughter she wanted Cilia to turn out to be, it didn't seem all too bad.
"Should I even bother to ask what you think, John?" she asked, only so that he felt like he was a part of the decision.
"You already have my answer," grumbled Mr. Riddle.
"Right- well- it doesn't sound like such a bad place. How would we bring her to the school?"
Mrs. Riddle and the other adults heard the young witch scream in delight.
"Well, I've written down all the rest of the information on a separate piece of parchment. You should be able to find it inside of the envelope I gave you," said Dumbledore. "You should go to King's Cross Station on September first and wait for the train. Your ticket should be located in the envelope." Mrs. Riddle found the train ticket inside the envelope along with the parchment Dumbledore spoke of. She glanced at it all for a moment and tucked everything back inside of it, deciding there and then that she would look at the rest of the stuff later. Mrs. Riddle placed the letters on her lap.
"You should expect to see our daughter the first at Kings Cross, then."
"I'm glad to hear that." Dumbledore gave Mrs. Riddle a generous nod of the head.
Both Dumbledore and Mrs. Riddle stood up. Mr. Riddle dragged himself off of his seat and the family escorted Dumbledore to the door. Mrs. Riddle smiled as much as her daughter as she shook Dumbledore's hand goodbye. Mr. Riddle didn't bother to offer his hand out he was still very bitter on what had happened and didn't want any involvement with the crazy bloke.
When it seemed that the trouble would be over for Mr. Riddle, Dumbledore stopped at the door. He turned back toward the Riddle family as though he had forgotten something very important. Mrs. Riddle's brow rose.
"Is there something wrong?"
"Oh yes, it seemed I've almost forgotten something," The entire Riddle family frowned. Even little Cilia began to frown in confusion. The whole phrasing of his sentence even made her feel nervous. Had he possibly made a mistake with the wrong person, was she really not who he thought she was?
Dumbledore smiled in a reassuring way. He sensed the fear seeping through the girl's skin. "I haven't made a mistake on what you are dear. I just remembered something important I was supposed to warn you of." The statement caught Mrs. Riddle's eyes. "I think it would be best if Miss. Riddle were to hide her real name from other students in our school, just for precautionary reasons."
"Precautionary? How come?"
"It's quite a long story," chuckled Dumbledore.
Mr. and Mrs. Riddle were not at all pleased with the statement. They didn't care how long it took, all they wanted to make sure of was that their daughter would be safe at all costs, and if it took a long time for them to find out, then so be it.
Dumbledore sighed lightly. He saw they weren't going to let him off the hook so easily. "Remember how I mentioned young Mr. Tom Riddle earlier?" Mr. and Mrs. Riddle nodded stiffly, "He isn't on the greatest terms with us in our community."
"How so?" asked Mr. Riddle.
He was curious to find out more about the man who was supposed to be related to him.
"Tom did some horrible things to people by staining his hands with blood and suffering. In our world, Tom is someone whom most people fear. If people were to find out that your daughter was related to the man, it would just be very unpleasant for her."
Mrs. Riddle and her husband glanced over at their princess who was still listening to every single thing they were saying.
"For your daughter's sake, Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, I would suggest using another last name for her, just so she would be able to be treated fairly when she attends her school. It would be regrettable if she had to be bullied because of someone she's never met before."
Mrs. Riddle nodded her head; her husband too had her support when it came to their daughter's safety.
"If that's the case," began Mrs. Riddle, "Cilia and I will think of a name she can use and remember when she's at school."
"That is much appreciated." Dumbledore gave the Riddle family a nod of his head. "Good-bye, Miss. Riddle. I shall see you at Hogwarts."
"Yes, sir, I looked forward to it."
Yea, you finished the first chapter! Please leave Feedback either good or bad I want to know how the story is going for you all.
Some of you might have not noticed this already but this is the re-making of my other DracoXOC story called You can be Romeo and I'll be Juliet. It is still going to have the same plot as before and pretty much the same things are going to happen but the characters are going to be more develope and I intend to make this story not ONLY about the relationship between my character Draco, but about other important things that happen in the Harry Potter Books.
I hope you all keep reading and please dont forget to leave feedback :)