Author's Note: Hello, friends! This is my first time posting a story so I am both very nervous and very excited. Please tell me what you think! I have a lot planned for my babies so hang tight! Any familiar characters you recognise belong to the great and powerful JK Rowling. My OC is mine. Thank you!

Chapter 1:

Cecilia walked solemnly through the crowded streets of London, away from her home, or what was left of it. Cecilia's house had been damn near burned to the ground in a terrible house fire that killed her mother, father, and her two sisters. She had been away at her boarding school when the overloaded outlets sparked and flared, catching on the curtains and beginning the fire. The twins, Lily and Michelle, had been just three years old at the time, far too young to go to school and her mother stayed at home and her father had come home early that night. It was a perfect storm. Her neighbor's had seen the house alight and called the fire department. Her family had been found in their respective rooms, sleeping. They had died from smoke inhalation. They hadn't even had the chance to wake up and attempt to flee for their lives. The authorities had contacted Cecilia's school which, in turn, told Cecilia the earth-shattering news.

She was now an orphan and she had no family left to care for her so off she went to Wool's Orphanage. Cecilia was still in shock. She had cried and cried for hours after learning of the death of her entire family. Everything she knew and loved had gone up in flames. The constables had all been extremely kind to her, despite the fact that they were busy with the rest of the investigation into the house fire, one was even guiding her to the orphanage. The paramedics had given her a blanket to cling onto in her shock and mourning once she had been brought to Scotland Yard. There wasn't really anything else they could do for the poor girl; they couldn't bring her family back.

She had not only lost her family and her home but she had also lost her school. She had been going to a private boarding school that she could no longer afford to attend. So she lost her family and any friends she had made at school. The constable looked back at her and gave her a look of sympathy as they came upon the gates of Wool's. He kneeled himself down to her level.

"Are you ready, lovie?" He asked her kindly. She nodded slowly. He gave her a small smile and a business card. Officer James Moore Scotland Yard, it read, also listing phone number underneath his name. "You call this number if you need anything at all, alright?" She nodded again, tears filling her eyes. The man quickly wrapped the nine-year-old in a tight hug and rubbed her back in a soothing manner. Cecilia hugged him back, needing human comfort more than anything right now. He released her only when her cries had slowed to whimpers but kept his hands on her shoulders and dried her tears with his handkerchief.

"Thank you, sir," Cecilia said meekly, attempting to give his hanky back. He gave her a smile and shook his head.

"You keep it, love. I have others. I'll need your name to tell to the matron, is that okay?" He asked her kindly. She nodded.

"I'm Cecilia, Cecilia Teresa-Marie Santos," she provided.

"That's a beautiful name, darling, may I call you Cece?" The little girl nodded again. "I'm Jim Moore but you can call me Jimmy, okay?" Cecilia smiled a small smile but it was something. "I know today has been a very, very hard day. I can't imagine how you're feeling right now, love, but I need for you to be brave alright? And again, like I said, call me anytime you need something, ask for Jim Moore, and they'll direct it to me. I'll try to help you any way I can," Jimmy instructed the girl, who nodded and gave the bobbie another hug. Jimmy unwrapped himself from the hug after a moment, took the girl's hand, and opened the iron gates of the orphanage.

He hated the idea of leaving this poor little girl here, in a place that seemed to sag with the weight of children's sadness. He had personally wanted to adopt the girl but he was certain his wife wouldn't approve of taking her home with him like some sort of lost puppy. And the fact of the matter was, she wasn't the only little girl who had become an orphan this week even, but that didn't make her situation any less tragic or her pain any less real. Many of his fellow officers had become hardened to the nature of their job but he refused to be one of them. He wanted to help this girl in any way he could and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to squash his guilt for leaving her here, in a place where happiness went to die.

They walked up the path, hand in hand, and Jim knocked firmly on the heavy wooden door. A few moments later, the door creaked open loudly, revealing a woman that could only be described as grey. She seemed to exude misery and suffering from her nearly gaunt form. Her skin was ashen, her dark hair streaked with strands of white, and, though Jim knew her to be around thirty, she looked about fifty. She looked at Cecilia with a look of near contempt, then at Jim. She straightened herself up and plastered a smile on her face that didn't reach her dull blue-grey eyes.

"What can I do for you, Constable?" She asked in an overly sweet tone.

"I've got little Cecilia here who's just lost her mum, dad, and sisters. I'm here to take care of the paperwork and all that nasty stuff for her," Jim said dutifully, giving the little girl a smile which she tried to return but it came out slightly watery. He squeezed her hand lightly. She squeezed his back, letting him know that she was alright. The matron watched the exchange with growing impatience.

"Alright then, right this way," the older woman directed them to her tiny office. The orphanage was even worse on the inside. It was so gloomy and sad, he wondered how anyone managed to live here. The matron took a seat behind her desk. "I'm Mrs. Cole, by the way."

"Good to meet you, Mrs. Cole," Jimmy said kindly. He pulled out a chair for Cece to sit on and once she sat, he did the same.

"Pleasure," Cecilia told her mousily. Mrs. Cole nodded, seemingly satisfied with their responses. She got out several official documents and a pen and prepared to write.

"Full name?" Mrs. Cole began to question the pair robotically.

"Cecilia Teresa-Marie Santos," Jimmy stated for the girl. Mrs. Cole asked Cecilia to spell it for her, to ensure there were no mistakes, the girl did.

"Date of birth?" Mrs. Cole was scribbling down the information rapidly.

"October 31, 1926," Cecilia provided, knowing that she'd likely have to pick it up from here as Officer Jimmy didn't know all these things.

"Parent's names?"

"Marcus Jameson Santos and Mary Teresa Santos neé Adams," Mrs. Cole's questioning continued much in this vein, parent's dates of birth, sibling's names, their dates of birth, paternal grandparents, maternal grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc. Once almost every family member she knew of was listed, all of them were either deceased, didn't live in the country, or didn't know she existed, they moved on to her criminal record which was non-existent, then her place of birth which was London, England, and on and on.

When Mrs. Cole decided that she was done questioning Cecilia, Jimmy gave the girl a final hug and a small kiss on the forehead, wishing her luck and reminding her that she could call him. She thanked the officer once more and held back tears as he left. She was all alone now. Except for Mrs. Cole, but she clearly didn't like her so she figured the woman wasn't going to be much of a companion. The matron gave her a quick walk around the facilities, told her the rules, gave her a pile of clothes all in varying shades of grey, toiletries, and showed her the room in which she would be staying.

"There isn't any more room in the girl's wing so you'll be over here by Tom," the older woman explained, gesturing to the door across the hall from what was to be her room. "He pretty much has his own wing, hence why you'll be by him. Don't get in the boy's way and you'll be fine. If you do, however, manage to cross him...well, just don't cross him, it's a bad idea," Cecilia was incredibly confused but, before she could ask the woman any questions, she was gone. The girl gave out a little huff and walked into her assigned room. She dropped the clothes and bathroom items Mrs. Cole had given her onto the bed. Well, to be honest, it was more of a cot than a bed.

Cecilia sighed heavily and walked out of the room to stand in front of the boy's, Tom, room. She debated whether or not to knock for a moment or two until she decided to give it a go and knocked politely on Tom's door. There was no answer. She knocked again, slightly more insistent this time. Still no answer. She knocked a third time just a little bit louder than the time before and the door swung open, revealing an angry-faced boy with black hair and dark blue eyes. Cecilia jumped in shock at the door being opened so suddenly and at the angry look on her neighbor's face.

"What do you want?" He growled.

"I'm new here and I just thought I'd introduce myself but it seems I've come at a bad time, I'll leave you alone then," Cecilia told him gently, turning to walk away. Tom was not used to gentleness in any way, shape, or form so to have some strange girl come to his door with nothing but friendliness on her mind sort of shocked him. There was no ulterior motive for her. She simply wanted to say hello to the strange boy she had been warned against. Of course, Tom had heard Mrs. Cole warning the girl off him but here she was, still willing to talk to him. Interesting, he thought. He caught her wrist and lightly pulled her back toward him.

"No, you're alright, I shouldn't have snapped at you," That was as close as Tom ever got to apologizing, telling people that he shouldn't have done something. And he only did that when he felt he had to. In this case, he could see that this girl was special. There was something about her that made her seem...familiar to him. He wanted to know more about her so he had to play nice. It apparently worked, his almost-apology. The girl was smiling wide now.

"My name's Cecilia Santos, what should I call you?" Cecilia asked him, sticking her hand out for him to shake. He took it and felt a jolt of electricity, slightly stronger than a static shock. She had felt it as well if her jumping and retracting her hand was anything to go by. She murmured an apology, blushing brightly.

"It's fine, I'm Tom, Tom Riddle," he introduced, attempting to push past the shocked silence they had fallen into. "Would you," Tom fumbled with his words for a moment. "Would you like to come inside?" He asked, gesturing at his room behind him. Cecilia's light brown eyes brightened and she nodded. Tom opened the door further and stepped to the side, letting her in. He never let the other children in his room, especially not girls, but Cecilia was special, like him and he knew it. He could feel it. And he was going to make sure that he was right. She sat in the chair at his desk as Tom walked over to his bed and sat as well. "Can I ask you something, Cecilia?"

"Yes, of course, Tom," she answered immediately. Tom smiled a smile that looked more like a smirk.

"Have you, say, knocked something over without touching it? You just thought I want to knock that over and it happened?" Tom wasted no time it seemed. Cecilia was surprised at the admittedly bizarre question. No one had ever asked her anything like that before. But then she thought about it and realized that she had, in fact, done something of that nature before. Several times actually. She told him so. A genuine smile lit up Tom's face. "It's happened to me too, a lot, that's why I asked. Because you just seem...I dunno, special like how I am. I can talk to snakes, what about you?"

"I've never tried before, so I'm not sure. But I can make plants and things grow faster when I want them to," Tom and Cecilia talked like this for about an hour or so until they decided to go out into what Tom called the garden, which was really overselling the measly patch of land.

"Let's see if we can find a snake to talk to," Tom suggested excitedly. Cecilia nodded emphatically, wanting to see if they shared the same talent.

"And I'll see what I can do about this garden, it's really quite sad, even if it is fall," she added, giggling. Tom nodded in agreement. The orphanage's garden was really nothing but a patch of grass that had less weeds than the rest of the yard and a very small smattering of dying flowers interspersed throughout the patch.

"Let's find a snake first and then you can make the flowers grow," Tom said decidedly and Cecilia agreed. They looked around for quite a while for a snake, getting very dirty in the process. Eventually, they found one, hiding in its hole. When Tom coaxed the snake out to talk to them Cecilia found that she could understand Tom despite the fact that she could see he wasn't speaking English but she could hear him as if he was. Her amber eyes went wide in excitement.

"Tom!" She whisper-shouted so she didn't scare the snake off. "I can understand you when you talk to it!" Tom's navy blue eyes widened as well. She had just spoke like how he spoke to the snake! Only her accent was...off. It wasn't really bad or anything, just...different. He didn't even feel the need to mention it to her it was so miniscule.

"You're speaking just like I do to Serpens!" He exclaimed. Cecilia looked excited, then her nose scrunched in confusion.

"Serpens? Who's that?" She asked.

"I named all of the snakes in this garden and I remember all of them, this one is named after the constellation Serpens," Tom explained and Cecilia nodded in understanding.

"That's amazing, Tom, and really quite sweet," Cecilia told him, trying to hide her blushing. Tom still saw it anyway and gave her a small smile. She tucked a strand of light brown hair behind her ear and ducked her head slightly. She cleared her throat quickly, raising her head once again, squaring her shoulders.

"Let's see if you can talk to him," Tom suggested. He watched as Cecilia talked to Serpens just as he had. She asked the bright green garden snake if he could understand her. Serpens told her he could. He also mentioned her accent, much to Tom's dismay. But she was so excited that she didn't seem to care. Her eyes lit up with such glee that Tom couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. He knew she was special like him. He knew they shared the same talents. She wasn't like any of the other children in the orphanage, she was just like him and that meant she was his equal. She was real and everyone else was plastic, a bunch of dolls pretending to be people. She was different. She was powerful. She was his. He had found her. He had known she was different and he had shown her that she was special so that made her his, right? Tom decided that it did.

So they became friends. Tom watched her as she made the previously dead flowers bloom with life and vibrant colour. The flowers withered, he noticed, as they walked away but blossomed once more whenever she walked past them. She taught him how to make the flowers grow but his roses always had one too many thorns and his daisies lacked the luster that hers possessed. His roses were always a deep shade of blood red while hers varied from a clean and beautiful white to a bright, gleaming yellow to a dusty rose pink to a candy apple red. It depended on her mood, really, what colour her roses were. She told him that he would get the hang of it soon. He practiced growing flowers almost constantly, at night when he should have been asleep, at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, despite Cecilia's scolding. He even practiced while at school, growing small sprigs of lavender in his textbooks. He always gave his flowers to Cecilia. She put them in her chestnut brown hair. It made Tom smile to see them there.

The other children wondered where Tom and Cecilia got all these flowers. Most figured that Tom had bullied a florist into giving the flowers to them. The children at the orphanage were going to befriend Cecilia at first, but when they saw her and Tom walking to dinner together that first night, both of them covered in dirt, they knew she'd either be trouble or dead soon, so no one bothered. Cecilia didn't mind. And Tom most certainly didn't either. They were perfectly happy to only be friends with one another and not having to worry about anybody else but each other.

Mrs. Cole gave them a firm scolding about the state of their clothes when they walked into dinner on the first night. Well, she tried to anyway. Tom gave Mrs. Cole the coldest look he could muster, a look that froze the matron's blood in her veins. She hated interacting with that boy. He was always up to no good and frightening the other children and now he was corrupting another child. Sure, she didn't like that Cecilia girl much but Mrs. Cole could not handle another Tom Riddle. She attempted to continue her scolding but realized that both of them were gone, having simply walked away from her to grab their food and sit down. They were chatting quietly at the far end of the table, since none of the others wanted to sit next to them, she had even noticed the little girl saying Grace and asking Tom to join her, he did. Tom never said Grace before meals and now, upon Cecilia's request, he actually did. Maybe this pairing isn't so bad after all, Mrs. Cole thought to herself.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Please, leave any and all constructive questions, comments, and concerns! I love them!