Have you ever wondered why Tom Riddle, or as you know him, Lord Voldemort, ever came to the Potter's residence in the first place? Why would he murder a family if he had no reason to even show up? Most people began making up theories to explain that horrific Hallowe'en night, saying that he was heartless, that he had lost all decency. That's complete bollocks, to be honest.
I know for certain because I was there. I know what happened that night, and it had nothing to do with being heartless.
You see, I was still baby, twin to the now famous Harry Potter. But I was one powerful baby. At the age of twelve months old I began showing signs of magic, which is quite rare, most magic appears when a child first learns to read or write or speak. I could do neither. Yet I still turned my mum's hair blue, and two days later my uncle Sirius's skin yellow.
Of course, people were so proud when they heard this, they would have a powerful figure in the generation to come. But one person heard this news and fell in love with the little child behind the magic. That person was Tom Riddle. Hw showed up at our house five months later, and my parents fought him. He didn't want to hurt them, but they were using violence, so he had no other way to defend himself. When he finally made it through my dad and mum, he found me in my brother's crib right where mother had decided to hide me.
Of course, Harry was under the impression that Tom was there to hurt us, so he began to scream. This angered Tom; he would be caught if he did not do something! So he, in his angered state, sent a killing curse toward Harry. My magic protected him, and accidentally shot across his forehead with such force that it left a scar. Contrary to most stories, "Mum's love" did not protect him, mine did.
I remember everything Tom did and said- he told me I would be okay, that he would take care of me now. He grinned a grin that I would see and cherish for the rest of my life and picked me up. "My name is Tom, Beatrice, and you can call me dad." He smiled as he held me in his arms and apparated to his mansion. His wife Madeline embraced us both and Tom introduced the two of us.
I still remember pointing at him and saying, "Dadda."
I still remember him saying, "Baby." And pointing at me.
Voldemort never died that night, the spell never rebound. Instead, Tom gave up his life as an evil mastermind to raise me, to love me. To be my father. Now tell me what heartless, soulless, indecent man would do that?
Throughout the years father taught me many things; The Dark Arts, manipulation, legillimency, occulmency, leardership and most importantly respect. He taught me how to love, care and feel for others. These lessons stayed with me my entire life, whether in harm or safety. They became parts of me, and I wouldn't have been able to shake them away if I wanted to.
Along with teaching, father spoiled me to a crisp. At the age of six I had three familiars, a blue racer snake, Cyan, a black diamond encrusted snake, Pandora, and a pure white wolf. I had four rooms all to myself; a giant walkin closet, a master sized bedroom, a master sized bathroom and a study. I could proclaim I wanted something and within minutes have it at my fingertips. And though I would like to say I avoided the spoiled attitude, I became the typical rich, spoiled brat for two years around the time I was six. My best friend Draco Malfoy too had anything he needed, so we kept each other from becoming too stuck up.
Right around the time I was seven, my two siblings were born, Vivica and Viktor. To mums surprise, her pregnancy had resulted in twins. I remember seeing and holding them for the first time, I believed they were the most beautiful creatures to grace this earth. They truly seemed to be, what with their little black wisps of hair and brilliant icy blue eyes; they practically lit up any room they entered. Unlike most siblings, we all got along perfectly, because they reminded me of what I used to have. Harry had been my own twin and at the time I had no idea where he was. Sometimes when I looked at Viktor, I would see that little scared toddler who tried to protect me. But if Tom hadn't taken me under his wing, I don't know where I would have ended up.
Growing up, my favorite colour had always been silver. It went with anything, white, black, green. I went through this faze where everything had to be silver, my clothes, my bedspread, everything. That quickly passed when I met Pansy Parkinson. That girl looked like she had come straight from candy land. Everything was pink. Somehow she had even changed the colour of her eyes to the strawberry hue. Then I became obsessed with pink and everything girly. I forced mum and Narcissa (Draco's mum) to teach m how to do makeup and hair, I fell in love with the colour pink and Pansy and I became close friends. That faze too quickly passed when I entered my very first Death Eater meeting. Sure, I'd been in before- shortly- and the Death Eater's loved me, but that day I went in and stayed in. Black was everywhere. I decided that day to stick to every colour, not just one.
I got a wand five years before I ever got my acceptance letter, I used that for at least an hour every day, practicing difficult spells and even creating some of my own. I read and studied about every subject I would come across. The most important studies though were the Dark Arts lessons father gave me. He taught me curses, he taught me jinxes, he taught me poisons and elixirs. He let me decide when and where to draw the line- if anything we studied ever became too much for me to handle- and he would stop immediately the second I did. One thing he never taught me was Parseltongue, yet I could talk to snakes by the time I was eight. Father said it wasn't something that could be taught or learned, and that he was so proud to be able to say his daughter had the same ability as he. I also had the ability to speak to Cato, in what is called Moonspeak, meaning I could speak to wolves, dogs and werewolves.
The day I got my acceptance letter to Hogwarts, I was sitting with Vivica and Viktor in my room playing Exploding Snap. A pure black owl flew through my agape window and dropped a letter onto my lap.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Miss Beatrice Riddle,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Second page
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)
by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic
by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory
by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration
by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi
by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions
by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection
by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS
ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK
I was so excited to receive the letter that I gathered my siblings in a giddy embrace and ran down the stairs to share my news. My parents and I wrote a letter back immediately and requested a rule bend for my familiars to enter Hogwarts with me. Two days later Dumbledore himself agreed and provided us with even more information about the school. Mum, Dad and I dragged the twins with us to Knockturn alley to spread the word to all of my father's followers, whom all called me "Princess" as a nickname. We shopped for my supplies in Diagon Alley and father even bought me a new wand since mine was aging.
I remember asking after a while why the letter had said Riddle, as the school should have know my real surname. Father had set me down on his lap and told me that I had charms protecting my identity. While I had no glamour charms on me to protect my appearance, to anyone who knew Beatrice Potter I was a completely different person, he had told me. To the rest of the world I hadn't had as much luck as Harry in surviving the killing curse. To the rest of the world, I hadn't made it out alive. To the rest of the world Beatrice Potter was dead.
In the days leading up to September 1 I could be found doing random tings, none very productive, though I did teach Cato, my wolf, how to steal tings. Might come in handy one day, you never know. I would sit down with a book and tea and read, I would play with Cato and Pandora and Cyan, I would play with the twins, but nothing worked to calm my nerves about the upcoming first year.
I woke up at 5 on the morning of September 1 and felt the weight of the world lift off my shoulders. I would be going to Hogwarts!