A.N: This is my first time writing a story. Please, be kind.
Parseltongue
~MindSpeak~
All along Diagon Alley, witches and wizards of all ages wandered; prancing to their own music, and yet in tune with each other. However, in the corner of every eye traipsed a young girl – no, she walked as a royal lady, draped in grace and elegance. Experience. Expertise. Efficient. She glided around the shadows, almost as if she was made of them herself. But that was impossible, there wasn't a being this side of the Wizarding World that shaped shadows to their will, especially not those able to take on the form of a little girl.
She appeared to be 8 years old, but she moved like a century old siren; she was both cynical and youthful; she held age beyond her years in her eyes, full of knowledge and nevertheless, ready to learn more. She was exceedingly petite, with curls cascading furiously to her hips of a deep chestnut brown that seemed to both glitter and swallow the light around them. Face ever so pale with clear almost translucent skin, framed with oval-eyes, full lashes, button nose and heart-shaped lips. Her eyes ensnared his attention immediately; they were shifting colours, like fluid. Magnificent rain forests, shimmering lakes; hallowed halls, meadows, creatures and animals; every sunset, sunrise, red giants and supernovas seemed to be encapsulated in her iris.
How each person's eyes seemed to glaze over at her appearance struck him as odd. She looked like a goddess in a child's body, and yet people's gaze jumped right over her. As if they had forgotten her already. He prepared himself to follow her, after all a young child like herself should not be in Diagon alley alone. Where were her parents?
Ever since her first step into this world, she has never wanted. She has never been left curious, or discouraged about her everyday life… Until now. Who was this stranger? How could he see her? Is he seeing her or is there someone behind her?
From being a little girl, Belladora has always been able to hide herself from unwanted attention; she didn't know how, but if she wanted to vanish on the spot, she would simply wish it and seem to melt into the wall. Belladora had always been different. Always being called a freak for her 'circus tricks', she taught herself to control such 'freakishness'. In order to do this, she had to get control over her emotions, and she would meditate. She learned the hard way, through several trials of hardship to disconnect herself, and by accident discovered that if she meditated before bed it would keep the nightmares at bay. Soon enough, she lost herself inside herself; she was scared, alone, almost misplaced in her mind.
~Flashback~
"And just who are you, my dear?"
The voice seemed to bounce off every wall, piercing every corner leaving no escape.
"Explain."
The voice was soft, like satin running over the skin; well-mannered and yet strict.
"I… I was meditating. I've done it before, several times, and this has never happened. Who are you? Where are we? What have you done with me?!" Belladora's voice didn't seem to carry as far as the others, but they still had the goodwill to answer her.
"You are in your mind child, calm yourself. Have some decorum. As for myself, my name is… Marvolo. Tom Marvolo Riddle."
~Present Day~
Rapidly, Tom (Marvolo as he preferred to be called), taught Belladora everything she now knows. For the longest time, Tom was the only being Belladora wanted to trust, as every other person failed her in retrospect.
~Who is he Tom? ~ Belladora breathed, as she slithered back into her mind, batting on the consciousness that was Marvolo.
~Enough of your insolence child! ~ Marvolo snipped, amusement glittering down their link. ~If you would only give me a minute, I would tell you. Your impatience will get you killed, Bella. ~ He grumbled and complained, but Belladora could feel how amused Marvolo was, and so let it slide.
~Yes, but Tom! He can see me, he's following our every move with his eyes. And they are clear, intelligent. ~ Belladora defended, in a modulated voice that made Marvolo's eyes roll. She ducked into a small alleyway to make sure she could talk to Marvolo without interruption and masked herself completely with her magic.
~Dear Merlin, Bella. His name is Severus Prince, he is one of mine. The reason he can see you is, and I hope it's this and not something more complicated, the fact that he is a natural occulmens. He was Potions Master at Hogwarts. If he still is, you will have him as a professor in the coming days. Now get a move on, you need to get to Gringotts. Time is money! Remember what I taught you. ~ Marvolo's voice turned silky as he lectured; incarcerating her attention within seconds.
Belladora once again focused on the path in front of her, pivoting out of the dingy alleyway and back into the kaleidoscope of colours that was Diagon alley. Her gaze narrowed in on the tall, marble building that was Gringotts. The bank was daunting; it commanded everything and everyone around it to look up and marvel at its snow-white structure. Intersecting down the left side stood a dark, volatile alleyway, that encouraged danger.
Marvolo's voice vibrated against Belladora's cranium, refined and throaty.
~I will remind you to go down there at the end of our travels today. I have a surprise for you, Bella. ~
Curiosity spinning, Belladora glided up the steps and almost jumped out of her skin at the poem that seemed to reverberate throughout her mind, body and soul.
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
~Interesting. ~ Marvolo pointed out tremulously. Belladora scrunched up her face in an adorable manner but carried on walking as though she hadn't heard. However, she couldn't get her mind off the riddle at the door. She bowed, lowly and respectfully, to the goblins at the side of each door and said the respected greeting in a floaty whisper.
"May your gold flow, and your enemies tremble at your feet in the dawn of battle."
The gnarly, waist height creatures were pale in colour. Outstretched pointy ears twitched; beady eyes with calculating scrutiny. The goblins almost missed the strangers greeting, but with ears that can detect even the smallest whisper heard every word. They shared an incredulous glance but bowed back.
"May your future hold good fortune, and your enemies tremble under your wand, young witch" came the throaty reply of the goblin, while he proceeded to open the golden doors. They were new, then. Fresh out of the mines. Belladora smirked at their baffled expressions and walked forward still with a smug smile. Inelegantly, she blundered and toppled into a black mass. The black mass then moved, wrapping its arms around her shoulders and holding her in a firm grasp that made her breath catch. Slowly, she raised her eyes to glimpse at the roadblock in front of her. She stubbornly refused to let her face turn red, as she observed the very man that could see her with such intensity and clarity and trembled in his embrace.
"You should look where you're going, you impertinent child." He remarked with a false vagueness, but his eyes held curiosity and amusement. Belladora nearly lost her battle with the blood rushing to her face, as Marvolo started to chuckle.
Quiet Tom! Belladora hissed, not realising she had spoken aloud. Severus' face deepened in confusion, he tilted his head to the side and remarked ineloquently,
"What?"
Her eyes refocused on his face, taking in his consternation. Quickly, she righted herself, causing Severus to drop her shoulders suddenly. With her mind in shambles at her embarrassment, she had to manually occlude; her pureblood etiquette came flying back to her, dragging with it a blank mask across her face, smiling blandly.
"I am ever so sorry, my lord." She breathed, smile firmly strict on her face; voice carrying across the hall in a smooth monotone. "Forgive my impoliteness, I did not mean to allow myself to descend upon you." She dropped into a deep curtsy, gliding her left leg behind her to lower herself to the floor, her eyes following the motion. "Please accept my sincerest apologies, I regret to say that this doesn't usually happen." She stayed still, iron-like while he assessed her; she obstinately continued her curtsy, refusing the tremble that wanted to sweep through her. "Allow me to rectify my actions." Belladora's voice finished flowing finally, and she braved herself to look up.
And nearly toppled at the sight of what was before her; He was smiling. Not your usual smile that could be seen and identified with a glance, but a smile that was hidden behind a smirk, away from everyone but a keen eye.
"You may rise, child." His voice poured out of him and emanated across the distance she had put between them both. "There is no need for apologies," He chuckled, "but if you wish to make it up to me, you can start by telling me your name."
It wasn't a demand, but Belladora's voice replied almost at once. "Belladora. My name is Belladora Elphick, sire." Rising, she clasped her hands behind her back, but kept her eyes firmly in contact with his. A show of respect, yet defiance at the same time; after all, she hadn't ever trusted an adult with her name, getting by on several alias'. She wasn't ready to start trusting this man.
"Where are your parents, Miss Elphick?" he probed, smooth voice ringing in her ears. "A young girl like yourself shouldn't be wandering around in your lonesome." Amusement trickled down his remark, covering his curiosity with smarminess.
"Begging your pardon sir, but my parents are dead." Bluntness came to the forefront of her answer, and she carried on with a dead voice, no smile in sight. "They died in the war. Now if you don't mind, I really should get going. Time is money." She trailed passed him, every step with a purpose, when a hand came down on her shoulder. He came to stand in front of her again, cloak twisting around his feet. His shoulder length, black hair that was half tied up out of his face reflected the light of the chandelier that was now above their heads, framing piercing coal eyes that scrutinised every move she made. He opened his mouth to retort, when he frowned and surveyed the shoulder he was holding. Under the rich, heavy garment that was woven of acromantula silk, Belladora was very thin. Almost too thin. He removed his hand and sneered at her. "You will allow me to accompany you, Miss Elphick. An 8 year old such as yourself, I would surely be hung if I let you lounge around the streets by yourself."
Marvolo suddenly cackled. Bright and mischievously, frightening her out of her composure forcing her mouth to gape at the off-handed comment.
Belladora hissed, completely the embodiment of fiery, "I am no such thing!" her hands balanced on her hips in fists, practically vibrating. "I am 11 years old! I may still be a child, sire, but I am almost a teen! I shall be joining Hogwarts this year!" Her eyes blazed with fury that would have scared off the darkest of creatures; the goblins around her quaked under the pressure of magic around the room. Belladora's hair seemed to lift, quiver and slither like snakes around her, getting tauter and tauter until something snapped through the tension.
Someone was laughing. It was vivid, and sharp. It was beautiful. Belladora's hair retreated to its original position, the tension drained out of her body, and incredulously gaped at the dark, swallow man in front of her.
"I like you, young one." His eyes gleamed with glee, "Let me escort you on your travels today,"- laughter rang in his tone - "and I shall reward you with knowledge." He moved to re-tie his hair up, as it had fallen out while laughing. This time he tied it up in a loose bun, strands fell which the band could not restrain to frame his face again.
Belladora shook herself, mask back on, polite smile on her face, "Of course, my lord. Please escort me to a teller, I wish to visit my vault." She turned on one foot, quintessence of refinement and class, waiting for the hand to come down on her shoulder again to direct her to a teller of his choosing. The hand finally came, and with it, soft breathing near her ear; the once again silky, smooth voice laced with sarcasm said simply,
"Call me Severus."