Chapter Two: Encounter:

Luci didn't want a shared class. She didn't like class, full stop. Nonetheless, the dark haired girl gathered up her books into a small bundle, shoving them into her bag unceremoniously, while attempting to jam her wand through the loop in her jeans, hidden beneath her robes. Needless to say, the result was that the bag fell from Luci's grip, falling onto the merciless stairs and splitting open. A chorus of jeers and laughter came from a crowd of Slytherins passing them, and Luci flushed furiously, ducking her head and bending to pick up her belongings. Several boys jostled with one another to get closer, and Luci scowled furiously at her feet - if he had been her father, the least he could've done was not pass his looks onto her. But as she scrabbled on the ground to collect the last of her broken quills, a warm hand landed on her's.

Startled, Luci looked up into the face of Harry Potter.

"Are you alright?" The Boy who Lived asked quietly, "Ignore those Slytherins."

"I'm fine." Luci managed, immediately ducking away so she wouldn't have to look into his clear green eyes any moment longer, "I just dropped my stuff ..." she finished, gesturing weakly at the pile of objects.

Harry laughed, a true and friendly sound, and a jolt of confusion seared through Luci. If she really was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's daughter, then shouldn't she be ignoring him, or worse, hitting him, causing a ruckus, anything to get him away from her? Nonetheless, Luci pegged her lips, and managed an awkward smile as the two of them swept the rest of her belongings into a neat pile. From one side, Harry's constant companion, the bushy haired girl, raised her wand and muttered something. The rest of Luci's books mended themselves, and flew into her newly sewn-up bag. Luci sent the Granger girl a grateful smile.

"Thank-you." she said, over Harry's head, "I'll get going now."

To her surprise, he held her back, "Hang on. You've still got ink on you."

"I'll be fine!" Luci blurted, more mortified than ever. The need to do something was overwhelming, "Just let me get to class!"

She darted past him, all too thankful for her slight frame, hearing Harry's somewhat surprised remark of 'Okay ... then ...'. Black hair whirling out behind her, Luci scrambled forward wildly, no longer concerned with her wand or her books - only desperate to get to Transfiguration class. Wouldn't it have been so much easier if she was in a different year, in a different place from Harry Potter? So much easier. Luci almost cast a silent, desperate wish that it was possible for her to transfer to Slytherin. After all, that was where she belonged. Voldemort's daughter shouldn't have a place in Gryffindor.

OoO

"Luci, you're quite pale. Maybe we should postpone our session."

Luci was trembling. She could hardly hold still from either irritation or fear - her legs buckled and her throat was dry, her words coming in hitches. But now, under Dumbledore's penetrating blue gaze, it was only frustration that fuelled her. She shook her head, her dark eyes meeting Dumbledore's in a determined gaze, and then she stepped forward. The silvery liquid of her mother's friends memories shifted and swirled beneath her. Luci tested her weight, and for a single moment, saw Adelaide and Tom Riddle together, eyes locked. Startled, Luci stumbled forwards into the memories.

XxX

Adelaide's pale porcelain features were as drawn as ever, dark bruising beneath her eyes. She looked ill, Luci realized with a jolt, terribly ill. Her honey-colored locks had been forced back into awkward plaits, and the result was Adelaide's thin white face exposed for all to see. For some reason, her plain friend, Tristan, wasn't anywhere around. Adelaide glanced around nervously, before raising a small fist, and rapping at the door. After three knocks, the door swung open, but no-one was there. Adelaide glanced around awkwardly, and then gripping her thin robes around her even more, scurried forwards.

The Prefects chambers were immaculate, a small fire burning in the corner. Luci recognized the room, but the green hangings, the ornate silver snakes, and serpentine decorations were different. And in the corner - Luci gasped, and quite lost her dignity, jerking backwards and toppling into a chest. When she pulled herself out of the chest, she found Adelaide there, face more drawn than ever, blue eyes wide and darting all over the place. A strangled cry hitched itself in Luci's throat as Tom Riddle stood, in all his dark elegance, and moved towards Luci's mother. Still, Adelaide stood, resolute silent, unmoving.

"Don't!" Luci cried, knowing all too well no-one would hear, "Don't, Mum, stop, don't go to him!"

"Adelaide," Riddle said at the same time, that weird smile twisting his features oddly, "How ... nice to see you again."

He reached forwards, as if to stroke her face, and then dropped his hand as Adelaide flinched. She was trembling furiously, thin frame wracked with fear as she shuddered, uable to control her convulsions. At the sight, Riddle grinned, and Luci winced - was her mother's fear provocative and alluring to him. But Luci could almost imagine why - Adelaide was so small, so frail, it seemed so easy to crush her.

"I-I've got one thing to ask you, Senior Riddle," Adelaide managed to say, ducking her head so she wouldn't have to meet his smoldering gaze, "I just ... please ...Tristan ..."

Riddle's mouth curved into a cold frown. "You mean that playboy associate of yours? I believe I was right in giving him a detention on the Quidditch match that he, as Keeper, was most needed as."

"You can't!"

Adelaide hesitated, and Luci, heart pounding furiously, bowed her head, too frightened to look on. She glanced up for one moment, and saw her mother, as frightened as ever, head bowed, golden hair unable to hide her face. Every moment longer they stayed in Riddle's company, the defying fact that Adelaide seemed to both loathe and love Riddle burned on. Indeed, as Adelaide looked up, Luci could see it - some sort of wild wonder, and at the same time, a strong fear defying any other form of admiration the Gryffindor girl might have felt. Adelaide pulled her robes around her even tighter, hoping to hide herself.

"Sta ... Senior, we need Tristan ... please!" Without warning, Adelaide's hands shot out - she seized the front of Riddle' robes, who unabashedly looked on, as if girl's beseeched him for help every day, "We can't do anything without him! Our team needs him!"

Riddle paused, and Luci caught a glimpse of that cold arrogance in his face, the expression Luci wished never to see on her own features. And hatred raced through her. Riddle merely viewed her mother as a toy, something to play with, something to win, a treasure beyond all man's dreams ... she hated him.

"Get some sleep." Riddle merely said. "And don't come wheedling to me again."

Adelaide flinched away. She released him immediately, wiping her hands on her robes, and stormed from the chambers. Riddle stood watching her go, face a mask.