In which Harry hears a Riddle
-Finally, we learn Margret's secret. It's a painful one, and really shakes things up. This scene comes after Sirius has slashed the Fat Lady's portrait and the Gryffindors are now sleeping in the great hall.-
Harry couldn't sleep, not surprising considering Sirius Black had somehow gotten into the castle. As he looked around he noticed that neither Ron, Hermione, nor the twins seemed to be sleeping.
"What do you want?" Said an irritated American voice: Margret.
Fred whipped out his wand and mumbled a spell, allowing them to hear the conversation just beyond the Hall's slightly open doors.
"Please keep your voice down, my dear," Said Dumbledore s voice, "We don't wish to wake the other students."
"Other students?" Margret asked, keeping her voice down too, "What's happened?"
"Sirius Black entered the castle and attempted to gain access to Gryffindors Tower," Snape s drawling voice explained, "When the Fat Lady wouldn't allow him he slashed her portrait."
"Are Harry and the others okay?" Margret asked, sounding a touch panicked. Harry reddened; ashamed he'd made his cousin worry for him, even though it wasn't his fault.
"Why do you ask after Mr. Potter?" inquired Fudge, his voice suspicious. Harry frowned, why was he at Hogwarts?
"Why else would you call me out of bed other than to tell me my cousin's hurt?" she said pointedly. Harry could just see Fudge shirking back down.
"The minister and his auroras have a few questions for you, my dear," Dumbledore said, diplomatically.
The wave of magic that hit Harry was terrible. Margret was furious, and about to lose control of her temper. That didn't bode well for Fudge.
"How dare you?" She hissed, the anger in her voice sending a shiver down Harry's spine, "You spineless buffoon. You think I helped Black in."
"Now, please calm down, Ms. Riddle," Fudge said pleadingly.
"Don't you ever call me that!" she spat, another wave of magic coming off her.
Harry couldn't breathe. Riddle? Fudge had called her Riddle? Maybe Harry'd heard wrong.
Hermione and Ron looked at him, wide eyed. Ron mouthed 'Riddle', asking if Harry had heard it too. Reluctantly, he nodded. Margret was a Riddle, but could it really mean what he thought? That Margret was Tom Riddle's, Lord Voldemort's, daughter.
"You think just because I share that megalomaniac s polluted blood that I'm like him? Look at this," She ordered, presumably showing him something, "Look Fudge. This is the last thing he did before he went after Harry, after my family. That psycho used his own child in an experiment to safe guard his own worthless life, to ensure he couldn't die. As soon as my mother found out she ran, and his moronic followers chased us.
"They cursed her to a slow, painful death, and I had to grow up watching her slowly loose her mind as I was prosecuted by anyone that knew his name. Do you know what happens every year on my birthday, Fudge? I'm brought before the International Confederation of Wizards and they vote on whether I get to live another year or not.
"Because of that man my life has been a living hell. And then you have the gaul of accusing me of helping a known traitor-the very man that lead that slime to my Aunt and Uncle-get into my school and attack my last living relative, the boy who saved my soul by killing that sick monster before he could finish his twisted experiment.
"I had always thought that the international papers were being too harsh on you, Fudge. Now I see it's the opposite, they were being kind. You are nothing more than a spineless, brainless puppet quick to lay blame on anyone but yourself. You make me sick."
There was a swish of cloth, footsteps, and then silence. Margret had left.
Harry wanted to chase after her, to comfort her. At the end of her speech her voice had cracked, as if she was trying not to cry. His poor cousin, she'd suffered so much. He knew he should be frightened-she was Voldemort's daughter!-but he couldn't find any fear in him. She was Margret, his crazy American cousin that was brilliant at potions and got flustered whenever Fred so much as smiled at her. There was no way she would hurt him.
"H-he-who-must-not-be-named," Ron whispered out, shaking in fear, "She's his daughter."
"Shut up, Ron!" Fred snapped, shaking too, "It doesn't mean anything."
"But she's-" He argued.
"Margret Dream," Hermione said, her voice cracking with barely held tears, "Her last name doesn't matter. She's our friend, and Harry's cousin. No matter her father she'll always be the girl we know, so stop shaking life a leaf before I hex you."
Ron and twins instantly stopped shaking. Hermione had threatened them, with teachers nearby. Harry knew this was because she liked Margret. The two had bonded over their shared love of learning and had been swapping books and spells all year. Harry was glad that she understood.
"Margret's Margret," Harry said, reassuring them, "That's all that matters. Now let's keep listening." They all nodded and went quite.
"W-well," Said Fudge finally, sounding severely shaken, "I'm gl-glad that's cleared up."
"Indeed," agreed Dumbledore, sounding a tad amused, "Now that you are satisfied, Minister, I suggest you head home and leave the rest of the investigation to my faculty and I."
"Yes," Said Fudge, "Yes, of course. Good night, Albus, Prof. Snape."
"Good night," Dumbledore replied as the minister walked away. "I believe it is time for us to call it a night as well, Severus," He said once Fudge's footsteps had died out.
"Don't you wish to question Lupin as well?" Snape asked, sourly. This made Harry and the other look at each other in confusion.
"You believe he's helping his old school mate into the castle?" Dumbledore said, amused.
"It is a possibility," Said Snape, as if he thought it was more than that.
"I very much doubt it," Dumbledore replied, "Even if he were inclined to do such a thing I don't imagine he would. I think you'd agree that Remus's devotion to young Margret has made him a tad over protective of her. I dare say he would give up his own life before placing his beloved God Daughter in any danger."
"Danger?" Asked Snape, as confused as the children listening, "I was under the impression that Black was after the other Potter."
"As far as we can tell he is only interested in Harry," Dumbledore agreed, "But not one of Voldemort's followers would pass up the opportunity Margret presents."
"What are you on about, Albus?" Hissed Snape, irritated.
"During Ms. Potter's rather passionate speech she mentioned the experiment Voldemort preformed on her," Dumbledore explained, sounding rather old and worn, "As far as I can tell the point of the experiment was to turn young Margret into a vessel for Voldemort's soul in the event his body were to parish."
"You can't be serious, Albus," Snape said, alarmed along with the children, "That simply isn't possible."
"I'm afraid it is," Dumbledore said sadly, "Or at least, it would have been. As Margret said, Harry's defeat of Voldemort prevented him from completing the experiment. However, a fragment of his soul still resides in Margret. Unfortunately, that is not the real problem."
"That isn't the problem?" Snape hissed, enraged by what he took as Dumbledore s flippant attitude, "The child is walking around with a piece of the Dark Lord in her. How is that not a problem?"
"Since the experiment was never finished the fragment is dormant. To be safe, myself and several other powerful wizards and witches have placed numerous wards on Margret. Even if the experiment were completed and Margret came in direct contact with the main part of Voldemort's soul her fragment would not awake.
"No, the problem is that Voldemort's followers do not know any of this. It is more than likely that, given the chance, they would capture Margret and try to use her to resurrect their master. And, I'm afraid, any attempt to do so would likely lead to her death."
Harry was shaking. This was too much to take in. Not only was his cousin Voldemort's daughter, but a piece of his soul was in her. He was sure Dumbledore was right and it wasn't a threat, but Voldemort's followers...If any of them got hold of her she'd be killed.
"This is all rather..." Began snape, sounding unnerved, "distressing, Albus. What are we to do?"
"What we have done for the past twenty years, my boy," Dumbledore said, "Prepare for the worst, and hope for the best." Two sets of footsteps told the children their professors had gone. All was silent, until Neville snored and nearly gave Harry a heart attack.
The five of them curled into their bags, not saying a word. What was there to say? It was all so horrible; no one knew where to start. So, they went to sleep, restless in their dreams.
-Well, I bet no one saw that coming. Margret Riddle, truly horrible. Poor Margret, you really have to feel sorry for her. Snape, always suspicious. Well, more to come soon.-