Chapter 1—Hello, Father Dearest
I landed with a thump on the soft earth, disoriented and slightly nauseous. Ugh. Portkey was definitely NOT my favourite way to travel. Where was I, though? Looking around me, I noticed that I was surrounded by lush greenery. A crystalline brook bubbled and gurgled next to me. Finally, I espied a medium-sized cottage in the woods not far away from me. It seemed perfectly harmless, but there was a distinct aura of Dark magic to it that seemed completely at odds with its exquisite surroundings. But I just knew it—this was where I had to go.
I rose slowly, holding on to a nearby tree trunk for support. Steadying myself, I hurried towards the cottage at a run. Father would skin me alive if I was late. Once I reached my destination, I took hold of the silver serpent-shaped knocker and knocked firmly thrice. There was a pitter-patter of feet, and then a nervous high-pitched male voice called, "Who are you? Declare yourself!" Ugh. Why did it have to be him of all people?
"It is me, Belladonna Riddle. Open the door this instant, or I shall run you through with my dear sweet mother's silver dagger," I smirked as I spoke, fingering my beloved silver dagger lovingly. There was a noise of heavy padlocks being unlocked, and then the door swung open with a creak of unoiled hinges that made my hair stand on end. Standing in the doorway was a short, plump, balding man wearing an ingratiating smile and bowing as low as his rheumatic knees would allow him. His silver hand gleamed in the faint light of the overhead glass chandelier.
"Take these," I snapped, throwing my thick cloak and travelling bag at him. Wormtail let out an 'oof' of surprise, but I paid no mind to him as I walked up the dusty stairs to the room where I knew my father awaited
"This is it, Bella. Do not make a mess of this or you will rue the day you were born," I said to myself as I stood outside Father's study. Taking a deep breath of musty air, I knocked.
"Come in," a high, cold voice called. Pushing the door open I found myself in an elaborately decorated study. Silver and green hangings filled the room. Mahogany shelves were filled with piles of parchments and thick tomes perched precariously on top of one another. A bald, pale man in midnight-black robes was seated at a table, poring over a report. "Boots off please. You know how particular I am about cleanliness. There are slippers for you to wear. Put them on, then come and stand five paces behind my chair," the man said without so much as glancing up at me. I hastily complied.
The moment I had assumed my position, the man whirled around, his red serpent-like eyes flashing as he raised his wand and shot a jet of red light at me. Fortunately, my wand was at the ready. I threw myself to the ground, narrowly avoiding his Cruciatus Curse and flinging one of my one back at him. He smirked, deflecting it easily with a swift flick of his wand and shot a volley of hexes at me, which I blocked with a solid Shield Charm. The spells ricocheted off in all directions, shattering glass and destroying furniture.
"Very good, Bella dear," said my father, Lord Voldemort, as his high, cold laugh pierced the air.