A/N: Yay! This chapter and the rest of the chapters has been (and will be) re-written by me and beta-read by the lovely Sweet Bitter Life (even though this is for her but whatever). xD Hope this is better for everybody.

Warnings: implied rape, slight depression and implied sex.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

Edited on December 1st 2013.

Chapter one:

The Dark Lord's daughter, still Missing After Eleven Years of Searching!

By: Calypso Shibutani

Where can she be?

For most of us, this is a common day, but for the Riddle Potter family, today is a day of mourning. Yes, this same day, eleven years ago, the only daughter of our Minister, Tom Marvolo Riddle, and his husband, Harry Riddle nee Potter has been missing. Ever since then, search parties had been looking for any sign or clues that would guide them to where she could be, but none had been discovered. These search parties had investigated all over the Wizarding communities in Europe with hopes to locate her, but unfortunately, nothing that could indicate her whereabouts had been found

Harry Riddle, also known as the Boy-Who-Lived and the husband of the Minister, expressed deep sorrow on the matter:

"The disappearance of our daughter eleven years ago has been a big blow to our family. The only thing I wish is for her to be found. That is all I ever wanted. It pains me to know that there is no clue about the whereabouts of my Annamaria, not in any magical parts of Europe or in the Occident part of the world. It is very painful for me to hear my five year old son ask me where his sister is and not knowing what to answer him."

Our Minister of Magic, Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort, had been on this case ever since that horrid day. He is incessantly looking for his daughter nonstop and if the rumors are true, he is planning on sending his Death Eaters to America in order to search for her in their magical community. When asked, the Minister expressed great anger when inquired about the disappearance of his daughter and with these words he warned whoever dared take away his precious girl:

"I do not know who would do such a thing, especially to a child of a fellow wizard, but heed my words: I will find whoever did this and I will kill them in the most painful, slow way I am capable of. I will make sure whoever it is regrets having taken my daughter away from me, from my husband and from my family. I will hunt them down and I will not cease until I find who is behind this. And when I find the person, or persons, responsible for taking our daughter away, I will make them pay."

I do not know about you, but I totally agree with our Minister. Wizarding children are very precious and are in need of a magically stabilized home in order to grow up with healthy magic and a happy life. By taking their daughter away they have endangered the child's magic and health greatly and we cannot know of the consequences this act had left on the girl until she is found and returned to her rightful place.

And I ask to myself: What kind of wizard would dare touch someone's child and take them away from their families? Who would dare bestow that kind of pain to anyone, regardless of who it might be? Is this the kind of people Britain is developing within is core? I do not know the answers for this questions, but I am sure of one thing:

The person that is capable of such a thing deserves the greatest of pain.

For more information about Minister Tom Riddle go to page 6

For more information about the dangers of an un-stabilized magical area and the dangers it poses on growing children go to page 10

0000 (line break)

In the dark corner I was currently hiding, I could see everything and everyone without being spotted and be gaped at as if I was a piece of dangling meat. This was, by far, the quietest place in this abominable pub full of filthy muggles that wanted to simply satiate their sexual frustrations, idiotic fantasies or simply be mentally stimulated by someone far smarter than they were. Every corner was bustling with activity, whether it was sexual or not, it didn't actually matter. It was so very sickening and disgusting either way and I wished with all my might that I wasn't spotted.

I couldn't believe that I was to be used in such a way once again…A shiver ran down my spine as I thought about it. No, hopefully not again. No matter how many years had passed ever since the abuse had started, I just couldn't help but feel utterly dirty and deeply humiliated.

The unwanted caresses…the brutal kisses…the sickening whispered words on my ears…the pain of being unwillingly, brutally and savagely taken over and over again without any type of consideration, guilt or mercy, it was torture. The burn of the whip as it clashed with my skin sometimes…The endless torture of being placed under the Cruciatus Curse and numerous of dark spells for who knows how many minutes and times…the humiliation of having the words 'slut' and 'abomination' carved onto my pale skin, a constant reminder of my personal Hell. My fists clenched tightly as the memories assaulted my mind mercilessly, leaving me breathless and shaking.

My world had always being black and my pleas had never been answered or heard, not by a person or by some other worldly deity. I was completely alone in this world, with no friends or family to care for me whatsoever. My eyes gazed down at my hands and with teary eyes full of self hatred and deeply rooted anger I noted, once again, that I was scarred; scarred by the very same blade that had damaged my virgin skin all those years ago.

I hated my captors with a passion but I hated how hopelessly stuck here I was. I hate the touches and the kisses from men I don't even know. I hate that I cry every night hoping against hope that someone, anyone, would come and save me, a dream so far fetched but still ever present. My pale, small hands clenched as I tried to hold in the tears that threatened to fall down my eyes unsuccessfully. I sometimes wondered why Fate took my parents away from me…I bet I would've been content and well, if my early memories were anything to go by, of course.

My life was like a horrible nightmare but without any type of comfort.

No…that was not true. I had a 'friend'…my only comfort in this evil world, my one and only consolation and shoulder to rest upon when I felt tired or emotionally weak. Yes, I had Donatello; my lovely, amazing Donatello.

A small smile graced my lips as I thought about him. Donatello had never hurt me, not even when the other two tortured me and…and abused me ever since I was ten. He had always stood to the side and watched the proceedings with sorrowful eyes and a stoic mask on his face. I couldn't understand why he didn't do anything to protect me, but that didn't matter once he gently patched my broken body up and gave me healing potions. Nevertheless he was the only one who took care of my wounded and broken body when the other two were sleeping ever since my parents had died.

He taught me things too, many things. Spells and history, Wizarding customs and politics and when I was younger he was the one who taught me how to improve my writing. Not only had the man taught me and helped me develop everything I knew today, he had also helped me emotionally and magically speaking.

Alas, to me the man was like an angel; a very supportive, nice and handsome angel.

As if hearing me think about him, the man suddenly appeared in front of me, as if called by my mere thought, and he gave me a warm smile. I smiled back without any hesitation and then quirked an eyebrow in question. Donatello's smile turned sheepish and he shot me an apologetic glance.

Well, that didn't bring me good news, I thought as I dried my eyes. The man took a deep breath, seemingly steeling himself for an unending battle that he was sure that he was about to lose and then said in heavily accented English and with a slight grimace on his face, "Merope, love, I'm sorry about this, I really am. I tried to dissuade the old man to choose another one but he was rather…insistent. Mr. Dursley, the old hag, wants you tonight."

A terrified squeaked managed to escape my lips as soon as the accursed name left his lips. Mr. Dursley was an old, foul man who had a thing for younger girls. I didn't like him one bit. He was a mean, old pig, surely and all I wanted to do every time I saw him was to run and hide under the earth forever more, or die in the most painful way possible in order to not see him. He terrified me. I didn't want to go to that man, I really didn't. I shook my head nearly hysterically and Donatello smiled a sad smile towards me.

"Yes, I know Merope. You hate the man, as I do. He's a filthy muggle, very unpleasant too but if you don't do this, Lancelot will find out and he'll hurt you. I-I don't want to see you hurt anymore…So, please?" Donatello pleaded quietly, looking at me with that very cute puppy dog look that just killed me.

We stared at each other for a long while and he was silently pleading me to do as he said. I wished I had another choice, no matter which one it was, I would gladly take it, but there wasn't an escape I could take. So after what seemed like a painful eternity, I lowered my head in defeat and shrugged helplessly. The man sighed softly and I saw as his shoulders slump ever so slightly in relief. My eyes softened slightly and a small smile appeared on my full lips at his obvious relief. "Fine, Donny. I-I'll do as you say…"

Without uttering a single word at that statement, he gave me a soft smile and took my hand, softly pulling me towards him in a gentle embrace that made my insides, and the fear I felt, melt away if only momentarily. Donatello gave a contented sigh as he pressed his lips softly to my hair. He gently grasped my hands in his bigger ones and brought them to his soft lips, softly kissing them.

My crimson eyes softened even more at that. One of the many things I liked about Donatello was that he was always so gentle with me, no matter what. He made me feel special…wanted somehow. It made me feel warm inside and that worried me a bit. He always made me feel like that…always, well ever since I was a teenager, but I didn't know why that was. Was it normal to feel like that? I didn't really know. All I knew was that he filled the emptiness I've always felt inside of me. He filled my heart and life with such gentle warmth and I liked that he was able to make me feel something other than the pain and sorrow that always filled my days. It was, to say the least, the most pleasant thing I've got in my life.

Donatello lifted his brown eyes and gifted me with another heartwarming smile and a kiss to my hand. My face got a bit red and his smile widened a bit when he saw my blush. He kissed it one more time and let go of me. He straightened his back and dusted some imaginary dirt from his button down black shirt.

He cleared his throat, shot me another smile in my direction and then said in a business like tone: "Well, I guess we should get going. Don't want to make the whale of a man wait long."

Nodding slightly, I straightened my back and squared my shoulders, as if readying for a brutal fight I wasn't even ready for. An expressionless mask went automatically on my face as I started walking besides my one and only friend and before we got there I stopped to fix my extremely short dress in nervousness. I would never wear something as short as this when I managed to get out of here, it was so uncomfortable and it showed so much…it made me very uneasy to wear it, especially around men.

I shook my head sharply, clearing it of unwanted thoughts and when I was ready I looked up at Donatello and nodded as firmly as I could. He nodded back at me in resigned encouragement, grabbed my hand in his and started guiding me towards the table in where my most hated costumer waited.

As soon as I got there, Vernon Dursley's beady eyes lit up as a candle stick as they looked me over as if I were a piece of meat he wanted to greedily devour. His eyes flashed with, dear Merlin let it not be that, lust. A disgusted shudder ran down my spine.

How was it that I managed to attract this much attention, with me being the scarred and damaged little thing I am? The Dursley whale snapped his beady eyes onto my crimson ones and he gave me what he thought was a seductive smile, which in reality looked like a feral smirk. I shuddered, fear, disgust and the nearly overwhelming terror pouring over me in waves.

"Dursley, you'll have your usual time with her and I suggest that you don't do anything stupid. If you do…" Donatello gave the man a threatening smirk, "you'll surely remember it for what is left of your pathetic life."

The whale of a man paled dramatically at the threat, but recovered rather quickly. He spluttered in indignation, turning an interesting shade of purple that I was sure enjoying to see. I idly wondered if it was really possible to turn to such a shade before I let go of the thought. The man was, for the lack of another word, grotesque.

And scary…

And completely terrifying…

And simply evil.

Yes, he was evil.

If only I could run away and never be found. That'd be very great.

"You shouldn't worry, she's in good hands. I assure you that she is." The man smiled after a while, making his huge, grey mustache twitch uncontrollably for a few seconds. It could've been funny if I wasn't so terrified of him. It was bad enough that I was here…even more so that he was. For a fleeting moment I wished that I was with someone else; someone far more polite, interesting and not as, as…well him, as the whale of a man that was sitting in front of me.

"Humph." Was the only answer Donatello gave. He glared at the man, smiled at me and left.

As soon as Donatello was out of view, the whale man grabbed my arm and yanked me onto his lap, making me squeak in horror. I stiffened as his beefy hand slowly caressed my thigh while his other hand tightly grasped my waist, successfully preventing me from leaving his side. Oh Merlin! He was touching me; touching me with those meaty, dirty hands of his.

I felt my whole body start to shake in anguish as he did as he pleased with my body, unable to fight back, unable to move. I was helplessly trapped in the nightmare that always haunted me, even when I am awake. This isn't what I wanted…This isn't what I dreamed of when I was a small girl. This isn't how it was supposed to be! There was supposed to be a handsome man I loved and loved me back with all his heart and candles and flowers and gentle kisses and soft caresses, not—not this!

No, no, no, no!

I closed my eyes tightly and clenched my teeth in order to not cry. The masochist loved it when I cried and begged for him to stop. It was torture, pure torture what I had to endure every day. I didn't want this. Why is this happening to me? Why? Why me? Why? Why? Why?! Everything he touched and did to me burned. Burned as bad as nothing I've ever felt. With every sloppy kiss he gave to my scarred skin, I could literally feel part of my soul dying a little bit more, become a whole lot duller. I could feel it clearly with every caress and with every whispered word he gifted me with.

"I love it when my bitches get hard to deal with… So hard to tame, so hard to please… Especially something as pretty as you, doll. I simply adore taming and breaking your will." The man said as he started kissing my body slowly.

'No, please no.' I wanted to beg but the words wouldn't come out. Everything seemed to freeze and go slower and suddenly there was a strong ache inside my chest and in a big burst of tingly sensation, that thanks to Donatello I could identify as my own magic, the man was flying away from me, his eyes bugging out in shock and his arms flailing about wildly. The man hit the far wall with a loud thud and he slid down it limply. The man got up from the floor as quickly as his bulged out body allowed him and once he was on his two own feet, he stared at me for what seemed like ages. The man was bleeding from a cut he received on the side of his head; I had the urge to suddenly smirk.

Slowly but surely, I started to panic as the realization of what I've done clicked in my brain. My eyes widened and I started to shake in uncontrollable fear. I've done magic…in front of a muggl who didn't know anything about the wonders of magic. The man –Vernon Dursley—was looking murderous. In fact, he seemed ready to kill, if his trembling hands and moustache were anything to go by. Before I knew it the man was on me, with a speed that was supposed to be impossible for a man his size, and he grabbed me by the hair harshly. He man pulled me close to his face and snarled in rage. The man slapped me hard and I could taste the familiar flavor of blood in my mouth. No, not this, everything but this.

"So you are one of those filthy freaks, huh?! I should've known you were one of them, I should've known! But I'll teach you, I'll teach you to never use your freakiness on me, you little cunt!"

The man raised his fist and I closed my eyes, resigned to my fate. It was my punishment for being born, I knew. Even though Donatello said otherwise, why would I be here then? Why would I be all alone without someone to love me and save me from this godforsaken place? There was nothing for me in this world, but this. This pain and torture and madness were all the things I deserve. There was no one out there for me either, no one I could call my own. Everything I had always wanted and dreamed of was never going to come true. I was simply an object, Lancelot was right; an object that people took pleasure on seeing and touching, manhandling, gawking. I hate him, Lancelot. He was always right, and I hated it—No, despised it. It was as if Fate itself was mocking me by continuously slapping me in the face repeatedly every time the man was right, the bitch.

Why was this happening to me? Why me and not somebody else? What had I done to deserve this?

I hadn't done anything, nothing at all, to deserve a fate such as this. And yet here I am, treated as if I was no more than a pretty object to be collected. I hated this…I hated them. And I was so tired of hating…I wanted something different than hate. I wanted to love…or to simply sleep forever and never wake up, to never feel pain. Yes, that'd be nice; to forget everything, to see no more, to not to breathe or feel or need anything. I wanted to be no more, like a soul that passes on.

I wanted —no- needed to be free.

The hit that I had been waiting for came and a sob escaped my lips as the man spewed insults at me as if I was nothing more than trash. Perhaps this was to be my end, my pathetic and sad end. How extremely fitting…Well, at least I've known kindness; I've learned many things from the one person that I could somehow call a friend. I wouldn't die at my happiest but at least I got those memories to take with me. I was resigned to my fate, I knew, but what was to be expected from a lost soul that has not known love? What can you expect from a broken spirit? Nothing…One could expect nothing.

The haze of pain was suddenly broken when I heard the familiar voice of Donatello and if I wasn't already crying I would've started sobbing in relief. I might be resigned to my fate but I did not want to die. I wanted to find that that everybody talked about. I wanted to feel the warmth of the sun and the breeze of happiness fly besides me and I wanted to smile, to love.

Gentle hands slowly scooped me up and I was pressed into a hard, comfortable chest as my tears were being dry with a soft cloth. Murmurs in an old and strange language was all I could hear, besides the screaming of Donatello and the pig, and the tell tale feeling of magic running over me like a soft caress, warm and gentle. As soon as it appeared, it ended. Soon enough I was being handed a crystal vial full of silvery liquid, which I took hesitantly and drank down after having recognized it as one of the potions that Donatello gave me when I was hurt. The ache faded and for that I was grateful.

My face was softly lifted by gentle, long fingers until the man (from what I could see from the corner of my eyes) could see my face clearly. There was a slight pause and then those very fingers were applying what seemed to be some sort of cream. Shocked, I looked up only to find myself face to face with the most beautiful pair of eyes I've ever seen.

And so, I became lost in that sea of green.

A/N 2: Hopefully this is better. I will keep up posting the better chapters when I finish re-writing chapters 3 and 4. :)