A/N I know that this chapter is absolute rubbish, but I had no good ideas for it! (I did, however, write about three chapters for 6 and 7th year. :)

Chapter 4

"Excuse me, sir," Erin gasped, blinking rapidly, "But I don't think that's right!"

Dumbledore chuckled, he had expected her to say as much. But really, what was the appropriate reaction when you find out your father was a mass murdering dictator psychopath who tried to wipe wizard kind clean of half bloods and muggle borns? Dumbledore mused, still smiling a knowing, quiet smile.

"I am afraid, Ms. Riddle, that I am not mistaken," Dumbledore said in that hypnotically calm way of his, "You see, it was I who your mother came to when she found out that she was carrying you.

Yes, I remember it quite well. She appeared at my door in tears, the well known bride of the Dark Lord himself, clutching her slightly large belly and asking for my help. She had not been in love with him for a very long time, and she did not leave, not only because she was afraid, but because she could still remember who he had been. She had dwelled so long on the past that she failed to see who he was at present, and she needed to find a way out. She told me that she would do anything, as long as you were safe. I believed that she was speaking the truth, and I helped her devise a plan.

The moment you were born, she took you to the Weasleys, and she handed you over to the care of Molly and Arthur. When she returned home, Lord Voldemort was waiting for her. Alas, she met her demise in him. It was truly a tragic event, but I do believe he would not have killed her had it not been to teach his followers a lesson as to what would happen of they betrayed him.

He was dead before he found you, and that is a very fortunate occurrence. If he had gotten to you, there is no doubt that you would not be sitting here before me. He was a cruel man, your father, but I think it is best to remember that he was still human- in one way or another." Much to Erin's shock, Dumbledore finished with a small smile. She simply sat and stared at him as if he was insane, or drunk, or possibly both. She did not believe the words that had come out of his mouth. Her father couldn't be the Dark Lord. It was impossible!

"S-sir, I don't think…" Erin trailed off, stopping because of the new edge to Dumbledore's expression. It was as if he was daring her to contradict him again, not necessarily in a frightening way, but in a way that made her, for a fleeting moment, believe that all he had told her was true.

"I apologize for dropping this rather large piece of news on you and having to run, but there are some urgent matters I need to attend to away from the castle," Dumbledore said, rising from his chair. Erin followed in suit, still in a state of shock from the revelation of who her father really was. "Please keep in mind that my door is always open, should you find yourself in need of someone to talk to. And, if we could please keep this conversation between ourselves, it would be greatly appreciated." His eyes twinkled again, and Erin nodded, unable to form words. "Do enjoy your weekend, Ms. Riddle."

"Thank you, sir," Erin croaked, heading out the door. Dumbledore smiled. Perhaps, now that Erin was aware of who she was, things would move along a bit faster. There was no doubt that she would be powerful, and that she would prove to be very useful in the years to come.

"Yes," Dumbledore said to himself, throwing his cloak around his shoulders, "Very useful, indeed."

* * *

The Slytherin common room was empty yet again as Erin entered it, and she wondered for a brief moment if anyone other than her ever spent time there. She collapsed into the fluffy green couch, leaning her head back and covering her eyes with a throw pillow. Dumbledore's words were still whirring around in her mind, still sounding quite unreal.

She couldn't be the Dark Lord's daughter. It was just impossible! She wasn't like him, she didn't think; where he was cruel, she was sweet; where he was unemotional, she really did care; where he was evil, she was good.

Wasn't she?

For a moment, Erin wondered if she really was as good as she thought she was. She didn't see herself as cruel, and she hardly ever yelled at people; save her brothers when they teased her or hid her things. But then she remembered the things she had said to Percy on her first night in the castle, the rage and hate that she had projected upon him. He had not said one harmful word to her, and yet she had lashed out at her brother, striking him with her sharp tongue. She hadn't even known she could sound like that, feel like that. There were parts of her that were emerging that she had never known and never wanted to know were there, and now that she had a reason for it, it scared her beyond belief.

The young Slytherin was suddenly overwhelmed with tiredness, and she felt sleep begin to overtake her, and as she felt her eyes slip close, she was sure she saw a pair of red eyes peer at her from the darkness of her mind.

* * *

Erin stared into the mirror in front of her, but it was not her reflection that looked back. Instead of her hazel eyes, she found herself being appraised by blood red orbs set into a sickly pale face with no nose. She wanted to gasp in shock, but she could not, as if the scene around her was not one she was really a part of.

"Do you hate me?" The man asked someone who Erin could not see, "Is that why you took my child from me? Is that why you hid her?"

"I do not hate you, Tom," A woman's voice, cool and collected, resounded from somewhere nearby. The man whipped around, striking the woman who was apparently behind him.

"You lie, Amaranthe," He hissed, but the woman stood her ground, looking him straight in the eye, "And you know not to call me by that name!"

"I'm sorry," Amaranthe said, not truly looking like she was, "But that's who you are to me. Tom."

"Then I am sorry, as well," Erin could feel the man narrow his eyes, and he raised his wand. If her mother was scared, it didn't show, she still looked up at the man with a mixture of love and pity, "Avada Kedavra!"

There was a scream, a chuckle, a blast of bright green light-

"Riddle! Riddle, for the love of Merlin, wake up!"

Erin snapped up, clutching the arm that was trying to shake her awake. As she looked up, Draco Malfoy was standing over her, worry clearly etched on his young face. Erin found that it was his arm she was holding onto, and she hastily let go of it, looking away.

"Bloody hell, Riddle, what's the matter with you?" Draco asked. He was obviously shaken by the state he had found her in. "When I walked in you were yelling and screaming about something!"

"I- I'm sorry," Erin muttered, "I fell asleep, and I must've had a nightmare." She shook her head, trying desperately to forget the sight of her father murdering her mum. Whether it was just her imagination or something else, Erin did not know, nor was she particularly interested in finding out. She flashed Draco a smile that was plainly fake. "My imagination runs away from me sometimes."

"You're alright, though, right?" For a moment, Draco sounded genuinely concerned, but quickly corrected himself. "Not that I care or anything."

"Yes, I'm fine," Erin said. Draco sat down on the opposite side of the couch from her, pulling a book out of his robes. He began reading, and Erin stared off into the empty space in front of her, thinking hard.

"Malfoy, can I ask you a question?" Erin said after a long silence. Draco looked at her over the top of his book, one eyebrow raised. She took that as a yes, and continued. "What makes someone evil?"

Draco dropped his book into his lap. His eyes went wide and looked at Erin as if perhaps she was insane.

"What?" He managed. What was all this talk about evil? Did she know about Lucius and what he was trying to do…?

"I mean, if, say, your father was someone who did horrible, ghastly things, does that mean that you have to do them as well? Is blood all it takes to make you evil?"

"What are you playing at, Riddle?" Draco snapped, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Erin sighed and turned to face him, something burning in her eyes that he did not recognize.

"Nothing. I mean, I wouldn't know, even if I could tell you," She said regretfully, "Sorry about that. Forget I brought it up, okay?" She rose from her seat on the couch, shaking her head again and heading for the portrait hole. She looked back over her shoulder at him. "I'll see you at dinner, right?"

She was out the door before he had a chance to respond, leaving him with a bewildered expression on his face.

* * *

The moment Erin stepped into the Great Hall, two tall, male figures were blocking her path.

"From the way we hear it, little sis," Fred said, grinning.

"You've gotten into no trouble at all yet!" George finished, his smile just as wide. Erin laughed as he picked her up, swinging her like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. He followed Fred out of the Hall, and Erin watched the doors swing closed behind them. The halls of the castle went by around her, and although she could not yet tell where they were going, she could definitely tell where they had been. At one point, she came eye to eye with a dumbfounded Professor Flitwick, who she waved to happily. He simply shook his head and went back to the papers he had been looking. Apparently he was used to the twins kidnapping first years.

"Mr. Weasley! Unhand Ms. Riddle at once!"

Erin suddenly found herself back on her feet, a goofy grin on her face as the blood rushed back into her head. Fred reached out to steady her as she swayed, her vision slightly doubled from the lack of oxygen to her brain. As soon as she sobered up, she recognized the angry face of Professor McGonagall, who it seemed had ordered George to put her down. McGonagall placed her hands on her hips, glaring at the twins, who were both smiling innocently.

"Sorry, Professor," They said in unison.

"Sry, Prfssr!" Erin giggled, her words slurring slightly. McGonagall shook her head, walking on. As soon as she was out of sight, Fred took Erin's hand and led her just a little ways further, George close behind and on the lookout for any more easily annoyed teachers.

"Where are we going?" Erin asked, still smiling like the somewhat innocent child that she was, all events of that morning briefly forgotten now that she was in the company of her favorite brothers.

"Midnight snack, Rin," Fred told her with a wicked grin. He was happy indeed that Erin had begun school, so that he and his twin would be able to teach her anything and everything they knew about Hogwarts before they graduated- including the secret entrance to the kitchens.

"It's lunch time, how can we have a midnight snack?" Erin said, giggling, as Fred and George each took one of her hands so that they might get there faster. There was a goofy grin still on her face, the grin of a little girl who had not just found out that her father was a murderer.

"Oh, you'll see, little friend," George said, "Close your eyes!"

Erin obeyed immediately, and Fred and George shared a telepathic look, making sure that they both remembered how to get into the kitchen. Quite a few steps and stumbles later, the trio was down below the noisy Hall up above, and Erin peeked her eyes open just in time to see George reach out and tickle the pear on a large oil painting of a bunch of fruit. She quickly screwed up her face again, making it look like she had never opened her eyes. The painting swung open and allowed them entrance, and Fred lifted Erin up over the bit of wall that stuck up from the floor creating the doorway.

"Alright, I suppose you can open your eyes now," George declared, and Erin opened her eyes widely, determined to see anything and everything of the room that she could.

"What is this place?" Erin asked in awe. There were house elves running back and forth everywhere, through doorways and to and from counters, all preparing one kind of food or another. The aromas that reached Erin's nose told her that perhaps she had died and gone to heaven.

"This is the Hogwarts kitchen," Fred announced happily, following George to a small table that was set up out of the way with three places set up at it. There were plates in front of every seat, and the plates were covered with tin lids, effectively containing what was obviously delicious food.

Fred pulled out a chair for Erin and then sat down himself across from George. An elf came running over to them, quickly pulling off the lids of there food and bowing deeply.

"Thank you, Howie," Fred said, nodding once at the elf, who smiled widely and then scampered away. On the plate in front of Erin was a sandwich piled with turkey and cheese and mustard and pickles. A grin broke out on her already happy face; she recalled many nights back home at the Burrow when she had wandered down into the kitchen and found that Fred and George had beaten her there, but there was always a sandwich like the one before her that they would stick in the fridge for when she got up.

"What do you think, Rin?" George asked her as she took a bite. She chewed slowly and deliberated for a moment before bursting into laughter.

Fred and George looked at each other, puzzled. What was so funny about a sandwich?

"Merlin, this is the best sandwich I've ever had!" Erin managed between giggles. The twins grinned from ear to ear. "Don't tell your mum, though! She's throw a fit, wouldn't she?"

Fred and George began to laugh at this as well, and soon they were laughing so hard that they were sure that they could be heard all the way up through the ceiling.

Ok, I know the thing about Molly wasn't particularly funny, but I was mostly trying to convey the close relationship between Fred, Erin, and George, and how they can get her mind off stuff, even HUGE stuff (i personally think she's still in denial). I didn't like the interaction between Erin and Draco, but I wanted to make it apparent that Lucius may be up to something. Sorry for the crappy chapter! The next one will probably be better, although I haven't got much good stuff in my head for first year, all the things I'm really itching to get to happen when they're older. Stupid little kids... ;)

-Echo1317