A/N I worked on this all day and my fingers don't want to type ever again! This chapter is 2,618 words without the author's note, and I am very proud of myself. XD

Chapter 3: Letters

Dear Aunt Molly, Erin began, not quite sure of what she ought to write. It was a bit late to be awake, but it was already her third week of school, and she had yet to write a single letter to Molly. The Slytherin common room was empty and she did not expect to be interrupted, alone but for the roaring fire.

She was sure that Molly had already heard from one of her sons that Erin had been sorted into Slytherin, but she hadn't said anything about it. This was just a bit more worrisome to Erin than if Molly had sent her a howler.

Dear Aunt Molly,

How are things around the house? How're you and Ginny doing without the rest of us thundering around all day?

As I'm sure one of the boys has told you already, I was sorted into Slytherin house. I really do hope you're not too disappointed in me. You taught me better than Slytherin when I was little, and I will continue to hold my head high and do my best to keep the Weasley name honorable- I know that I don't hold the name Weasley, but you've always accepted me as though I did, and if I ever did anything to bring you shame, I would never forgive myself. Of course, I've probably already brought you shame just by being sorted. Please forgive me, Aunt Molly. I'm sorry.

Things here are just how you and Uncle Arthur described them. This place has a sort of, well, magical quality to it. It's like it's made to make you feel right at home, and that it does. I love it here. Please don't take offence, I miss you, and Gin, and Uncle Arthur terribly. But I can't help but feel like this place is where I was meant to be. Like home.

I've been meaning to ask you something, Aunt Molly. Actually, I have for a while, now, but something brought it to my attention the night we arrived here. When I was being sorted, the Hat said something peculiar. He said, 'The blood does not lie.'. I don't know what he meant, but I think it would have something to do with my parents. Who were they? You've never told me anything about them, and I expect that it's because I haven't exactly asked. I think I'm ready to know. What were their names? Do I look like either of them? What were they like?

Do you think they might be proud of me?

I miss you lots, Aunt Molly, and I do hope to receive mail from you soon. Give my love to Uncle Arthur, and Gin.

Erin read over the letter ten or so times, to make sure that it sounded alright, and when she was certain it did, she signed her name at the bottom and stuffed it in an envelope. She shoved it into her pocket and placed the cork back on her ink bottle, and was just about to stand and go up to her room when-

The fire was extinguished.

"Merlin's beard!" Erin exclaimed in a whisper, never having noticed how dark a pitch black room really was. She stumbled blindly for a few feet, silently cursing whoever thought to put the Slytherin common room in the dungeon, where every wall was void of windows, so that she didn't even have the moonlight to help her get back upstairs. As if out of nowhere, a coffee table appeared in front of Erin, and she ran shin-first into it, letting out a yelp which she quickly silenced. She knew that the couch was close by, and she sank down onto it, biting her lip to keep from crying out again.

"What the bloody hell's going on down here?" An annoyed voice called out quietly, and a small light appeared at the bottom of the tiny staircase that lead up to the bedrooms. Erin recognized who it was immediately, and she sighed unhappily.

"I don't see how that's any of your business, Malfoy," Erin snorted, still whispering. Malfoy sneered when he saw that it was indeed this girl who he had let his curiousity get the better of him for. "You woke me up!" He whisper-yelled, "I think I deserve to know why!" Erin scowled at the boy, and he sauntered over to the couch, throwing himself down next to her.

"If you must know, I hit my leg on the damn table," She muttered, refusing to look up and see the smirk he undoubtedly had on his face. She suddenly felt the leg of her pants being lifted up ever so slightly, and her head whipped up to see Draco gently fingering her leg where she had run into the table. She winced, seeing that there was a small gash, and a trickle of blood ran down her leg.

"That's going to leave a nasty mark," Draco muttered, pulling his wand out of his robe and pointing it at the injury, "Episky."

The cut healed up immediately, and all the pain was gone from Erin's leg. She looked up at him in shock, whether it was because he could perform such a spell in his first year or because he actually did something nice for her she could not tell. His expression was quite serious as he examined her leg again, to make sure that the spell had worked properly. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before he stood up and wandered back up the staircase, leaving Erin alone in the dark once again.

* * *

"Arthur! Arthur, come quickly!" Molly shouted up the stairs. Her voice was frantic, and her husband rushed to her side, thinking that perhaps something had happened to one of the children, or a relative of some sort had died, because that was just how upset she sounded. "What's the matter, Molly, dear? Is everything alright?" Arthur asked her worriedly, gazing down at the letter in her hands. He recognized Erin's neat scrawl, and as he read it, he paled.

"No, everything is certainly not alright!" Molly shrieked, shaking the letter in his face, "Arthur, she's asking questions! Questions that we can't answer!"

"She was sorted into Slytherin, eh?" Arthur chuckled darkly, "We knew it would happen eventually, Molly. She's eleven already, for Merlin's sake! I'm surprised that she didn't ask questions earlier."

"Arthur, if she knows…" Molly trailed off, tears welling in her eyes. She could not believe that that girl, that sweet, honest, innocent little girl, belonged to him. If she knew where she came from, she would be absolutely devastated. They had told her the story of Harry Potter, and she had heard of the evil deeds done by the Dark Lord from her brothers (much to Molly's displeasure, even though they could not understand why).

"If she knows, she will still be the same person," Arthur assured her, putting his arm around her in a comforting manner, "You have to believe in her, Molly."

And, that night, as Molly wrote a letter to the little girl she loved so much, she tried her very hardest to believe in her.

* * *

The owlery was empty (but for the owls, of course) when Erin walked up the stone steps, her eyes scanning the area for any sign of Errol, the Weasley's family owl. She wasn't sure that Molly would be writing back to her so soon, but she had hoped she would. Finally, she spotted him, grinning widely as she beckoned him over. He landed on her outstretched arm, nipping her affectionately on the ear before sticking out his leg for her to detach the letter with her name on it.

"Thanks, Errol," Erin said quietly, scratching him behind the ear. He hooted, and she giggled. As he flew away, quite lopsided if Erin knew him as well as she thought she did, the girl unrolled the letter anxiously. Would it tell her that she was to get out of their house and find somewhere else to live? Would it say that they loved her still, but they were so disappointed in her that they didn't want her back? Her hands were shaking so badly that she almost couldn't read it, but she sat down on one of the stone ledges nearby and forced herself to steady her hands.

Dear Erin,

Why would you think we would ever be ashamed of you, love? There's nothing you could do to stop our love for you. We're proud of you, no matter what house you're sorted into. Remember that, please. We love you.

About your parents, dear. I'll tell you what I can.

Your mother was a wonderful woman. She was a pure blood, but she didn't act much like it. She was kind and sweet and she tried to love all people equally. You remind me so much of her. She was a very beautiful woman, mind you, both inside and out. She may have made some bad choices in her life, but she realized what they were and she sorted them out as best as she could. Her name was Amatrathe, and she loved you very, very much. I wish you could remember her. She was very tall, and she had wonderful violet eyes, if you can believe it. She always kept her hair long, I remember, and it was the most genuine midnight black that you will ever see. I do think I have a picture of her somewhere, and I will send it when I find it.

Your father is someone I cannot say I knew very well. I can tell you, however, that you look just like him when he was young. That's what your mother predicted, and it's absolutely true. About him, your father- he was not the best of people. But do remember that your mother did love him very much. What she used to tell me was that 'Sometimes even the thickest of thorn bushes can hide a rose.' I want you to remember that as well, and take into account that although some of your house mates might seem just terrible, you should always give them the benefit of the doubt. That's all I can tell you for now, darling.

I hope that you continue to enjoy your schooling, and we'll see you at Christmas time. Don't forget to write again, Merlin knows that your brothers won't!

Love and kisses,

Aunt Molly

Erin read the letter again and again, trying to picture what her mother might have looked like. She could almost see her in her minds' eye, and it was enough to make her want to cry. There was so much more that she wanted to know, but she was sure that Molly wouldn't tell her it even if she could. Even with this short, one page letter, though, Erin could tell that there was information that Molly was withholding. She had known her father, Erin was sure of it; if not personally, then she had known about him. The thought that Molly was purposely keeping something about her father from her made her blood boil, but she quickly calmed herself down, because she was sure that Molly had a good reason for it. Perhaps Erin didn't really want to know, if what Molly had said here was true, that her father wasn't a very good person.

There were footsteps on the stone walkway, and Erin quickly dried her moist eyes. The person was approaching quickly, and Erin stowed the letter in her pocket, placing a smile on her face that didn't exactly feel right.

"Oy, Riddle!" Draco called as she began walking in the opposite direction. She turned quickly to face him. "Dumbledore's looking for you. He wants you in his office."

"Alright," Erin nodded, walking stonily past Draco back to the castle. She suddenly remembered the letter, and how Molly had told her to try and give people 'the benefit of the doubt'. She stopped and closed her eyes, sighing. "Malfoy?"

He turned around to see her staring at him, a small smile on her lips. He raised an eye brow, wondering what she could possibly want from him now.

"Thank you," She said softly, "For the other night."

"Oh," Draco said in surprise. He quickly composed himself. "Yeah, no problem. Gave me a good chance to practice."

The two stood looking at each other for a few awkward moments. Finally, Erin seemed to remember that she had somewhere to be, and with a quick exclamation of "Dumbledore!", she was back to running on her way to the castle. Draco stared after her for a bit, then shook his head, smirking at the girl's forgetfulness. Never mind who he suspected she was, or who his father said she might be. She wasn't anyone he'd like to associate with. Malfoys had standards, and, in his opinion, that stupid girl didn't meet them.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore's office was decorated in a fashion not unsimilar to that of Erin's room at home, with odds and ends stacked on tables, moving pictures covering the walls, and an abnormally cleanly and organized desk. Organized chaos, Erin called it, because although she knew where everything was, there was no way anyone would be able to find anything without her help. Dumbledore smiled widely at her, and she smiled back, shifting a bit uncomfortably in her chair. It was as though he was trying to see into her mind; they had been sitting like this for well over five minutes now, and Erin was quite unsure what Dumbledore had wanted from her in the first place. She was sure that she hadn't broken any rules (yet), and she had been quite respectful to all of her teachers and fellow students.

"Um, Professor?" Erin squeaked uncertainly, "Not to be disrespectful, but was there a specific reason that you wanted to see me?"

"Oh, yes" Dumbledore said quietly. Erin waited patiently for him to elaborate, but when it became clear that he was not going to, she attempted to stimulate him further.

"What might that be, Professor?" She asked, and Dumbledore chuckled at the girl.

"I would like to speak to you about your parents, Ms. Riddle," He said softly, and Erin seemed surprised at this. Did he know that she had just been asking Molly about them? "How much do you know about where you came from?"

"Well," Erin said, her voice still a bit more high pitched than it normally was, "I- I know that my mum's name was Amaranthe, and that Aunt Molly- Molly Weasley, that is- says that I act a lot like her. Aunt Molly says that I look very much like my dad, though. I'm afraid I don't know what his name was, though sir."

"Would you like to know his name, Erin?" Dumbledore asked her, and Erin's eyes widened. She nodded quickly. Anything he could tell her would be welcome, good or bad. "Your father goes by a very different name now than when I knew him. When he went to Hogwarts, he went by the name of Tom Riddle."

"And, sir, what is his name now?" Erin asked, almost not sure that she wanted to know. Dumbledore's eyes sparkled, and he smiled lightly.

"Your father now goes by the name," He said, running his hand along his beard in a thoughtful manner, "Of Lord Voldemort."

Ahhh! Voldemort? Does she believe him? We'll have to wait till tomorrow (or the next day, depending on how fast I can type) to see...

-Echo1317