I have decided to keep a journal where I will record all of my thoughts and opinions. Rhia will probably use it too, since I can't keep anything from her.
This account will be in a notebook, not those idiotic parchment scrolls that Father uses to send us letters. Those stupid things are far too conspicuous, and it's way too difficult to keep them organized. So I'm keeping my journal in a Muggle notebook.
I won't tell anyone, though. Except for Rhia. No one else would approve. Grandfather would call me an idiot for writing down things that could be used against me, and Father would do the same, though he would probably be more disturbed by the notebook. Just in case anyone ever finds this, I will swear an oath of secrecy.
I, RYO ANARION SAMETH FERIO RIDDLE-AMAMIYA, SHALL NEVER BRING THIS NOTEBOOK ON A MISSION, NOR ANYWHERE ELSE IT COULD FALL INTO THE WRONG HANDS. I WILL WRITE IN THE CODE-LANGUAGE THAT ONLY MY SISTER AND I KNOW, AND I WILL NEVER REVEAL THE SECRETS OF THIS BOOK, DESPITE TORTURE AND DEATH. THIS I SWEAR BY MY NAME AND HERITAGE.
There, that's out of the way. I'll show this to Rhia later, and she can swear too. Moving along.
Now, you may ask why a teenaged boy would write an oath of secrecy in his journal, then go and show it to someone. The answer is very simple. We are twins and best friends. She is only 27 seconds younger than me, and we have an unusual, extremely strong bond. We share everything, even punishments.
You may also ask why I would need to write a secrecy oath at all. This answer is also simple. I belong to the oldest, proudest, most formidable shinobi clan in all of Japan, and both sides of the family are extremely influential pureblooded wizarding clans. My cousins and I, not to mention my sister, have a lot to live up to.
Our parents have never lived together, or even gotten married, and our mother died when we were seven. You might think that we would go and live with our father, but we didn't. Certain circumstances made that impossible. More about that later. We continued to live, as we always had, with Mom's relatives, the aforementioned shinobi clan. We were trained, as all Amamiya children are, in a traditional style that has been modified over several centuries. My sister and I are elite shinobi, some of the best in our clan, especially for our age. Our lives have been very odd, but it is a familiar oddity. That, however, is about to change.
I believe I said before that our father could not take custody of us after Mom died. This is only partly due to the clan's desire to raise us in the Amamiya tradition. Mostly, it is due to the fact that our father was physically dead for 14 years. Our father is Tom Riddle, known as Lord Voldemort and You-Know-Who. He 'died' on our first birthday. Yes, my sister and I were born on Halloween. Last year, he managed to resurrect himself with the help of the boy who had accidentally defeated him in the first place.
Now, he's reestablished his power base and wants the two of us to come to England. He wants us to go to a wizarding school there, even though he knows that we've been homeschooled all of our lives and could probably beat their most powerful fighters and best scholars blindfolded with our hands tied behind our backs. He says that it will be good experience for us, and the clan agrees. We agreed to go, mainly out of sheer curiosity, so we'll be leaving tomorrow.
I hear Uncle Iruka calling us. Probably some sort of last-minute briefing and well-wishing. Oh, well, sayonara.
§§§
Ryo was bored.
This was not a normal occurrence. In Nanashi no Sato, the hidden Amamiya village-compound, serenity never lasted long enough for anyone to get bored. If Godaime-sama didn't give you a new mission, then Naruto or Duo would play a hilariously stupid prank, or Kyo and Yuki would get into another fight, or Sano would start a public brawl with anyone stupid or drunk enough to take him on, or Rhia would annoy the village elders to the point when they would gladly send them off on a mission, any mission, just to get them out of their hair. Rhia was good at that when she put her mind to it.
But they weren't in Nanashi no Sato, they were standing in the middle of a wizarding train platform in London. They had been standing there for the past half hour. Yes, they were bored. Rhia was playing cat's-cradle with a bit of string that she had found somewhere, Kakashi, their uncle, had his nose buried in some perverted book, and Seiji, their cousin, was reading An Idiot's Guide to English. He was fluent in English, and he had read the said book at least three times already.
Finally, a man dressed in black robes detached himself from the crowd and approached them. He addressed them in Japanese, their native tongue.
"You children the Master's are?" The tone was carefully blank, but years of training allowed the three teens and their 'guardian' to effortlessly sense and take advantage of the ill-hidden awe and fear.
"Yes, we are." Rhia deliberately replied in English, hiding a wince at the man's horrible Japanese. "I am Rhiannon, the black-haired boy is my brother, Ryo. This is our uncle, Kakashi, and the blonde is our cousin, Seiji." Unspoken was the fact that Kakashi was their guardian and Seiji was their bodyguard. A 'cunning' Slytherin ought to be able to figure that out.
"R-right. Please follow me." The young man's composure had obviously been shaken. Kakashi checked to make sure that all of their bags were together, safely shrunk in his pocket, then all four followed the young man to a safely secluded area from which they could Apparate.
§§§
Two Apparitions and a Portkey later, they examined their new 'home'. It was dark, rather antiquated-looking, and more than a little grimy. First order of business: clean up this dump. These conditions present dangers.
"Milord, Milady? The Master wishes to speak with you." This Death Eater was older than the first, cool in the face of fear. It was better concealed than in the last man, but the betraying emotion was still there. Looking at him, Rhia concluded that he must be one of Father's higher-ranking minions (as she disrespectfully, and privately, called them). Inside her head, she heard agreement. Kakashi and Seiji moved to follow them, but the Death Eater shook his head. "The young Master and Mistress only, Milord was most insistent."
Seiji stopped, scowling. "I do not like this." Kakashi's eyes were narrowed, clearly in agreement.
"Relax, you two, we are capable of defending ourselves. Plus, why would Father have brought us all this way just to kill us? And what would Father say if we were attacked by his minions? We have nothing to fear." Rhia nodded in agreement with her brother. Kakashi nodded, with an exhortation to be careful, and Seiji reluctantly acquiesced.
They walked after the Death Eater down a long, dark hallway. Ryo's nose wrinkled, imagining just how easy it would be for enemies to take control of this hallway. Isn't Father supposed to be clever? Rhia sounded uncertain.
I thought so, imouto. Obviously we were lied to. We'll have to remedy this.
And then they were in the presence of...well, of their father, for the first time in their lives. They had been born on the stroke of midnight, the moment of Samhain's birth, but according to the stories their mother had told, Voldemort had not been there all day, preparing for an attack. He apparently hadn't come to their birthday, either, preparing for the attack that would lead to his temporary downfall.
He did not look like they had thought that he would, remembering the faded pictures that their mother had shown them. He had been tall and handsome, with dark hair, pale skin, and bright eyes. Now he was fish-white and skeletal, bald, with red, slit-pupiled eyes.
Do you suppose the resurrection did this to him?
I don't know. It's a fitting appearance for a Dark Lord, though, don't you think?
"Ah, my children. It is wonderful to see you in person at last." Voldemort smiled.
Rhia's mind stirred in a vague sense of unease, carefully trained into her over many years. They were being watched. Ryo felt it too, and created a mild distraction so Rhia could search for the intruder.
"Yes, Milord. We've looked forward to this for a long time." Ryo was cautious. He knew the kind of etiquette this man demanded from his followers, and was unsure whether or not the doctrine applied to his children as well.
"Please, please. Call me 'Father'. It occasionally grows tiring to be called 'Milord Voldemort' all day. You may call me 'Father', or even 'Dad'. I require no obeisances from you except those given to a normal father."
Ryo smiled. "Yes, Father." Silently, he asked his sister if she had found anything.
No, no one's physically here. Whoever is spying is doing this magically, but the signature's too faint for me to trace. Both twins frowned imperceptibly, then roused themselves as their father began to speak again.
"Please, make yourselves at home. This is only a temporary base until my permanent one is again fit for habitation, but there have been rooms prepared for you, as well as for your, ah, relatives." He smirked slightly, sharing their joke.
"You must be tired. We will discuss your situation and plans for the future in the morning."
They smiled, bowing in respect. "Thank you, Father."
Several hundred miles away, in a perfectly normal small suburban house, a young boy woke gasping, hands pressed to his scar.
§§§
She smiled drowsily as she watched her lover, for lack of a better word, rise from the bed to get dressed. He knew nothing of what would happen in a few short months.
He didn't know, but she did. The fact that Seers were occasionally born into their line was not widely known, but that every family member could foresee life-changing moments was a carefully guarded family secret.
She knew what would happen to him nineteen months from now, on the anniversary of her children's birth, and what would happen more than fifteen years later.
She knew what role her children would play. The smile turned soft as she thought of her children, her innocent little babies, and she frowned as she thought of the part that Destiny would force them to play. It was two this time, a boy and a girl. She was very excited about the girl; Rhianna would be her first daughter, though she had several sons already. She could see them, all of them, in her mind's eye, strong, proud, talented, beautiful.
Kenshin, Kurama, Duo, Yuki, Yoh, Sasuke...they would be safe, protected from their youngest siblings' fate. She had left explicit instructions as to that. No one, in the village or outside of it, was to tell Voldemort of the existence of his other children. She had not gone to all those pains to hide her previous pregnancies for nothing. Voldemort would expect enough of children born on such a day, without letting him know that they were seventh children. Seventh children of a seventh daughter of a seventh son, the entire line going back seven generations, counting their own.
She smiled to herself again, a contented little cat. She did not like Destiny's plans, but she could do little to change them, since she disappeared about six years from now. But her children could overcome their fate. She could feel it, even now, in the sense of power surrounding each child, even the ones who had yet to be born. And as Voldemort at last left the room, she allowed herself to grin wholeheartedly at the chaos that they would cause.
