This is a story about the illegitimate daughter of Voldermort. Brought up by her mother, Gwendolyn never even considered that her past was dark. Dark and dangerous. At 11, the intelligent girl does not know what is going to befall her in the next year. Intelligent but ignorant. You get the picture?
"Gwen!" A podgy tanned lady with straw brown hair shouted in the bright run down room.
The girl she was talking to was in a second-hand cream robe with a red neckerchief on her head, tying her hair out of her eyes. These pitiable garments did not at all fit her own appearance; pale white skin, jet black hair, a thin beautiful body and an age in her eyes that seemed to go back so much farther than the eleven years she'd been alive.
"Yer, mum?" A smile rose upon her youthful face.
"A letter for you dear, oh! I know who it's from! I do! Come along now dear, do hurry up."
"Hogwarts! Mum-"
"Why do I never know anything that you don't? Oh!" She smiled. "How's the food going?"
The meal Gwendolyn had been making jumped up from the table. Gwendolyn grinned as the food shrunk back silently.
"Appetisers!" She said clicking her fingers. A bowl of pumpkin soup edged itself to her and another to her mother. "What do you think?"
"You forgot something, dear."
"What?"
"Spoons."
"We're not going to eat now, are we?" A thorough look of disappointment rose upon Gwendolyn's face.
"Well I don't see why not."
"But mum, the letter!"
"Go and fetch it then."
Gwendolyn ran out of the room excitedly. Hogwarts was the thing she'd been waiting for her whole life. She couldn't wait to read the emerald green writing, to gather her school supplies from diagon alley, to reach the infamous platform nine and three quarters or to enter the great stone castle. So many stories she had heard, so many hopes had brewed up inside her and she was ready, she was ready to go to school.