A/N: Special thanks to Forbidden Moons for reviewing- this chapter is for you :)
Okay, as some of you have noticed, I have deleted all of my stories since I had this unplanned hiatus (So sorry!). This is because I am going to renovate this story- make it better. For those of you who prefer darker!Tia, then head over to the search bar in google and search up 'Tom Riddle's Sister' in Wattpad. My user name is PrincessSlytherin.
I am also concerned about the lack of response in my latest chapters, also a contributing factor to my hiatus. Should I replace this story's chapters- not delete the story- and make it the same as my Wattpad one? Let me know if you want me to renovate or continue, since the lack of response has set me on edge and is making me wonder if posting this story was the correct decision.
Review please- if you're still reading :(
Disorientated, I blinked at the sudden light change in my new surroundings. I had focused on the Burrow when I had apparated from Gringotts...
So what was I doing in a Muggle market?
I turned around to expand my survey of the view when my face hit a chest.
"Oomph." I fell back on the asphalt pavement that lined the bustling market.
" I'm so sor- Tia?!" I looked up, sharply. Relief engulfed me when I realised that it was only David. He offered me his hands and hauled me up before I smoothed down the wild, chocolate curls that had grown to become a trademark.
" Hermione here." I reminded him, my voice holding a tinge of patronisation. The man pouted, looking remarkably like a two year old. And, for the first time in what seemed like forever, I laughed. David's lips twitched, and soon, we were both outright laughing. People passing by stared at us as though we were crazy, but we just didn't care at the moment. Eventually, we sobered but we still contained a small amount of amusement.
" Come with me, Hermione." He said, softly. My smile began to fade. My decline to the offer was already on my lips.
" I need to go back to Harry." I answered, my voice soft. He looked a little confused. I vaguely remembered that he had left the wizarding world a long time ago and explained for him. " Harry Potter was the child who defeated the Dark Lord. I have a feeling he's going to return, though." Of course he would. I have one of his horcruxes lying around my neck, looking for all the world like an innocent muggle locket! Did I mention the fact that said Dark Lord was possessing my brother? A shadow of darkness fell upon us and the happiness we had felt only moments before was thrown to the wind.
" He's an orphan, isn't he?" He whispered. When I didn't answer, he continued. " You care so much for him. I know that you would only do that if you saw Tom in him. And you do. From what I'm guessing, he probably even looks like him." My mind drifted back to the present.
" You have no idea." I grabbed his hand and forced a smile on my face. " You were saying?" A smile made itself known on his face.
" My apartment's this way."
Only moments later, I was suddenly inside an apartment building, standing in front of a door. It was painted a bold blue with the number 5 on the centre. David tossed his key and neatly caught it before he plunged it into the keyhole and turned it. With a secretive smile on his face, he turned to face me.
" Welcome to my house." He pushed the door a slight bit open. I looked up at him, seeking permission and he nodded. I pushed the door a little more and entered the flat. It was small, and on an estimate, contained two bedrooms. There was a homey feeling to the place, despite the slight mess that dominated the flat. David cringed.
" Sorry. I should have tidied up-"
" Don't bother." I waved him off. I didn't want the place to be completely sterile- it only reminded me of the chores I had to do in the orphanage. David stood down, a relieved look on his face.
" My father's sleeping in the master bedroom." He whispered. " The only room that is even remotely clean is the living room." He took my hand in his and guided me to the main room. The walls were a pale cream and the beige sofas seemed to compliment the size of the room. The golden sunlight streamed into the room through the rather large windows.
" Your house is beautiful." I said, my voice soft. I slid my feet out of my pumps and ventured forward, the plush white carpet tickling my bare feet. David leaned against the doorway, a small smile on his face.
" It took me a while to get it to my liking. I work as a headteacher in a primary school, but the pay there is quite low." I raised an eyebrow.
" You don't seem like the headteacher type." I replied, my voice slightly sceptical. He gestured to the sofas.
" Sit." He offered. I complied, still brushing my feet against the carpet. He stood over me, his face slightly amused. " Aren't you going to tell me what you like in your tea?" He asked. I giggled a little. " What is it? Do I have something on my nose?" Perplexed, he rubbed at the non-existent dirt on his nose. I shook my head.
" Sorry, it's just..." My voice faded to a more quiet, sombre tone. " I never had a mother to tell me that you should never go to a stranger's house. Instead, my brother was the one who always gave that advice." David placed a hand on my shoulder.
" You can trust me. You might not have been on the best of terms with my father, but you trusted me enough to fly you to your house." I flinched as I remembered the pale bodies of Hermione's parents, their expressions hollow. David seemed to sense that I didn't want him to pry and instead changed the subject.
" So, how do you like your tea?" He asked. I gave him a small smile.
" Black tea, one sugar and a dash of milk." I described. I had the same tastes as Tom when it came to food and drink- we both despised coffee, we loved chocolate, we absolutely adored croissants and we loved strawberry jam.
" Coming up." He answered, a smile on his face. Moments later, I heard the kettle boiling. I did another once-over across the house and got up. I traipsed toward the light that radiated from the glass structure that separated me from the outside world and looked out of the window just in time to see the postman enter the flats. I pulled out my wand and opened the window.
" Accio newspaper." I whispered, glee filling me. The newspaper shot out of the confused postman's bag and landed in my hand. I closed the window again and walked back to the sofa before settling down again. I opened it and gazed at the date.
10th August 1995
I felt the strangest feeling of de ja vu. I could still remember that time when I first opened the newsletter three years ago, grimacing at the clothing choice of the female athlete on the front page. In these times, I had learnt that these kinds of images in newsletters was common so I had adapted rapidly, though I was certain that Tom wouldn't let go of it quite so quickly. I shook my head and allowed my eyes to rove down when I saw the headlines.
' Murdered: Husband and Wife To Join The Afterlife After Mysterious Death'
I abruptly shut the newsletter and tried not to think of the parents of the girl I was parading around as. David just entered the living room and offered me a mug of his tea. Shakily, I accepted the herbal brew and took a sip. David frowned.
" What's wrong, Tia?" He asked, his voice gentle. I passed him the newsletter. He raised an eyebrow, presumably at the obvious fact that I had probably stolen it, but then opened it. He stared at the front page, his eyes scanning the article as his face grew progressively dimmer. He put the news paper down next to him. " I'm sorry." He whispered. I stayed silent for a while before pasting a smile on my face.
" Why don't you use magic?" I asked, my voice curious. David sighed.
" Tia, you know you shouldn't be changing the subject. Bottling it in isn't healthy." My smile fell off my face just as abruptly. David sighed, pulling his hand over his face. " I don't know who my mother was. All I know was that I was the result of a one night stand. My mother dropped me off at my father's home when I was only two, claiming that she didn't want or need baggage if she wanted to go out with another man. My father raised me since then." I bowed my head.
" I'm sorry." I relayed the words that he had said only moments before. He shook his head.
" It's fine. I never truly knew her anyway, it wan't like she had betrayed my love or anything." He answered, his voice nonchalant. I tried to read his face, but the only thing I could pick up on was complete and total honesty.
" It's my turn." I sighed. I cast my mind back to Hermione's parents. " I-I feel like I'm the one to blame for their death." I stammered at first, but my speech began to improve once I thought of a scolding Tom and fought to contain my amusement. " If I hadn't-"
" Tia, no matter what happened, it's not your fault." David cut in. I bit my lip and looked down, knowing that it was futile trying to argue with the man. An awkward silence ensued.
" David?" I asked, my voice slightly high from the long pause. He nodded at me, telling me to go on. " I- I have-"
" What is it?" He asked, his voice gentle.
" I have a son." I whispered. The look on his face was priceless. He was stuck in stupefied silence. He opened his mouth to say something, but he seemed to have sensed that I wanted silence, so we stayed quiet, watching the dawn filter through the trees outside the window.
I couldn't stop bouncing in glee and excitement as I dragged David across the market I had apparated in only moments before.
" Come on David!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with childish delight. Merlin, I hadn't felt this young in years...
" Calm down, Tiana!" He exclaimed. I rolled my eyes. People seemed to assume that Tia was a shortening of a longer name, but they were wrong.
" It's just Tia. Short and simple, like my brother's name!" I called out over my shoulder.
Flashback:
I fidgeted outside the door, my back against the wall as I started to get agitated. I was meant to be standing guard, but I opened the door and poked my head into the matron's office. Tom was rifling through the cabinets at an inhumanely fast speed.
" Do you need help?" I offered. Tom gave me a brief smile but turned back to the filing cabinets.
" No thanks. In fact, I think I'm rather close!" He finally pulled out two files with a triumphant look in his eyes. " I've found our files!" I rolled my eyes and joined him as he spread out our documents on the spacious desk in front of us. The three rather badly drawn pictures from the younger orphans were left forgotten on the side of the desk, probably tossed aside the moment our drunken head of orphanage had received the gift. Tom called my attention to him again.
" Oh." I snapped my attention to Tom. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were pulled down in a frown. I stood next to him.
" What's wrong?" I asked, placing my hand in his. A small smile graced his lips, but only added a melancholy expression on my beloved twin.
" I was hoping that my name would be a shortening of a longer name. Perhaps even something as mundane as 'Thomas'. No matter." He gathered up the files and moved to put them away.
" What's wrong with your name?" I asked. He sighed and turned around, the files dwarfing his nine year old body but somehow he looked elegant. I envied him for that.
" There are five 'Toms' in our orphanage and the only way that the staff or other children identify us is by our last name. It just irks me. The fact that our mother couldn't even give me a more creative name." I raised an eyebrow.
" You can't be irked by the dead. After all, we may not know our mother, but perhaps you should hold enough respect for the fact that she had birthed and named us." I rationalised. Tom gave an elegant shrug of his shoulders.
" I still wish that she could give me my own name. I was named after our father after all." He sneered as he pronounced the aforementioned parent who he held in contempt.
" I'll never understand why you hate our father. For all we know, the love our mother felt for him could have been one sided. He may not have abandoned us- it is possible that he had died or simply not known of us." I debated. He gave me a wan smile before he pulled me into an embrace.
" That's what keeps us different. You always see the best in people. You're rational and unprejudiced. We're different, but we're the same. We're the dark and the light and we are everything and nothing. One cannot live without the other." He finally pulled away, but gave me a smouldering look with his eyes, his hands on my forearms as my eyes captured him in rapt attention, awed by my elder brother who I had come to see as a protector and something more than a brother.
Tom was my best friend.
" Which is why I am asking you this, Tia, don't ever hold back from what you think is wrong. Tell me." He leaned in. " You are what's keeping me from falling." I nodded, my emerald eyes wide, watching my elder brother capture me with those eyes that looked so much like mine. My hair- which was pulled back painfully at the time- distracted Tom once he noticed the blue vein on my forehead beginning to throb. He undid the plaits.
" Thank you." I whispered. His face was stiff with dark anger, though. I bit my lip.
Had I done something wrong?
" Which filthy beast did your hair like this?" He asked, his voice promising pain. I fought to swallow the bile that had somehow climbed up my throat. He hissed, knowing immediately. " Ashton." He spat. I ducked my head and stared at my feet as they traced invisible circles on the worn, polished floor. I could still recount how Miss Ashton trapped my head between my legs- and not only forcefully braided my hair with unnecessary yanks- but also cut my hair in some places where she saw fit. My fringe was noticeably shorter, but she had cleverly braided it so that it wouldn't show.
But Tom couldn't be fooled easily.
He ran his hand through my hair, allowing the elbow length hair to flow out of its braided prison. His hand stopped at a chunk of my hair that ended three inches above the rest of my hair. He turned me around and flattened my fringe- only to see that it was an inch shorter and made me look absolutely ridiculous. He gave a feral growl, grabbing a pair of sharp scissors from the desk that Mrs. Cole often used to cut open cardboard boxes.
" I swear I will cut her hair, even if I have to die trying." His voice was venomous and promised extreme pain. I shook my head so quickly that I almost had whiplash.
" Tom, no." I pleaded, my voice slightly high from my hysteria. He frowned.
" Why?" He demanded, his icy tone making me flinch though I knew his anger was not directed at me. I grabbed his arm, my eyes imploring and large. He sighed. " For you. I'll stop for you." He whispered before pulling me into an embrace.
The next day, he broke his promise.
A woman walked about the orphanage, her hair cut jaggedly across her cheekbones.
Everybody laughed except me.
*End Flashback*
David shook me out of my stupor and waved his hand in front of my eyes.
"Cross to Riddle, are you receiving me?" He asked, his face completely serious. I frowned and batted his hand away as he started laughing. I heard the sweet sound of a music box off to my far right. I turned around, captivated by the sound like a moth to a flame.
" Tia? Tia, where are you going?" He tried to grab my arm, but I shook my hand out.
" Come on, David." I said, my voice soft. He looked a little perplexed, but followed. He held my hand instead, to prevent me from getting lost in the crowd, but I shook my hand out again, this time turning around to face him." I'm not a baby, David." He rolled his eyes at me.
" But you have the same tenancy to get lost." He retorted, his eyebrows high. I stuck my tongue out at him but then turned around to continue walking toward the music when I reached a stall with a host of musical instruments. But my eyes were captivated by the music box. The music it played sounded familiar.
" Are you interested in buying any of our instruments?" The stall owner asked, his eyebrow cocked in question. I nodded and gestured to the music box.
" How much is that music box?" I asked. His face changed immediately, showing one of disdain.
" Oh, that old thing?" He asked, his voice dripping with dislike. " Anyone who buys it always returns it, the condition worse than before, claiming that it was haunted. You may have it for free as long as you don't return it." He spat, his voice still venomous. I lifted an eyebrow. It was likely that the music box was charmed to create an air of uneasiness around it so that Muggles don't keep it for more than a limited amount of time. Why someone would do that, I had no idea. I noticed a bit of green silk poking out from under it and unfolded it, the robe unfolding to reveal a set of fancy dress robes. I lifted an eyebrow and searched for a label.
Madam Malkin's Dress Robes for All Occcasions.
Who would wear this, though? I hummed and flipped the label on the other side. I lifted an eyebrow when I saw the tiny handwriting, crammed up in one tiny label. The writing was difficult to decipher, not only because of the penmanship but also because of the fact that most of the words were misspelt in places I didn't even know could be spelt incorrectly.
Tom Richard Riddle,
where this rowb four thuh dans tonite. It brings owt yor eyez.
Yor Deerest Wyf,
Merope Riddle.
I frowned. My mother must have kept this close to her as a last reminder of who my father was. She must have had it with her the day that she had given birth to us that fateful Summer's night in the orphanage. I wouldn't put it past Mrs. Cole to sell a dead woman's possessions in order to have more money. I also felt a deep resentment at the fact that Tom and I, one of the most intelligent students to have ever graced the walls of Hogwarts, were born from a Pureblood who couldn't even spell correctly. I knew that my mother was abused, but would my uncle and grandfather restrict even the gift of reading, writing and knowledge from my mother? I knew that other people had different priorities and that some didn't want to be cooped up studying all day, but the fact that you were more knowledgeable than others tended to give you a sense of pride. Did they take that away from my mother? Shaking my head, I lifted the music box out of the box it was playing in and observed it. It was rounded and emerald green, gilded in silver decorations of snakes around the side. It was obvious that the person who crafted it was a Slytherin. Closing the lid to see the top of it, the music ended abruptly, my captivation to the music box ending. But it started up yet again- though in a different way- once I saw the names inscribed on the lid. Again, the writing was illegible, but enough to read what was on the lid.
Four my Deerest Childrun, Tom Marvolo Riddle and Adrienne Callidora Riddle.
I almost dropped the music box in my shock. I stuffed it in my pocket and held my father's dress robes to my chest before turning and running from the stall like my life depended on it. I heard David calling my name just behind me, but ignored him until I reached a dead end. I turned around and faced him, eyes wide with hope. I knew that I must have looked insane. Who was this middle child of whom the box had claimed was Tom and my sister? Was Adrienne still alive? David stared into my eyes, his facial expression carefully masked.
" Tia, why did you run? I though that some Death Eater was after you." He voiced his concern. I grabbed him by the collar before he began to choke, his eyes widening in fear. That brought me back to my senses and the adrenaline ebbed away, guilt filling me up. I eventually released my death hold on his collar and took a few steps back. An awkward silence ensued before he broke it with a nervous joke.
" With your impulsiveness, I'd have thought that you were in Griffindor." He said, his voice slightly shaking. I swallowed, but didn't apologise for fear of making the atmosphere even more tense between us. I produced the music box from my pocket.
" Read the inscription on the lid." I whispered before giving the music box carefully to him. He raised an eyebrow at me but held out his hand, waiting for the slight weight of the music machine to be deposited in his calloused hands. He got what he had waited for and examined the top before he looked up at me, his expression calculating.
" There is no mention of your name." He said, his voice slightly rough from the choke hold I had him in earlier. I felt another surge of guilt attack me when I noticed his voice and bowed my head. " Is there a reason for this?" He asked, his voice gentle. I looked up.
" The nurses say that my mother knew that she was going to have a girl before she had me. She said two names an hour after she had given birth to my brother. ' Name the boy Tom, after his father, Marvolo- after his grandfather. Riddle. The girl will be Tia, to match her brother. Marge, after her grandmother. Riddle.' They said that they didn't know what she was talking about until they saw a movement in her stomach only moments after she had said her final words. They conducted a caesarian to get me out of her corpse before I could die. This is why Adrienne is so important. If I really had an older sister, then how could she have been born within the short space of an hour? What happened to her? Why haven't I heard of her and why did the nurses keep her name from Tom and I?" I bit my lip as I thought of life with a sister.
It would be much more bearable for Tom after I had 'died', that would be true, but I somehow had doubts that I would want a sister to share Tom's heart with. There was only ever the two of us- Tom and I- one of us would have been bound to be left out of the loop.
I had a feeling that it would have been me.
The thought hit me with guilt before I could even think. Adrienne could be dead, but at the same time she could be alive. There was the slim chance that she was a still birth much like my own children (I almost winced at the thought of them, but calmed myself with the fact that they were up there, with their grandparents) but I somehow doubted the theory. She could have died in infancy or perhaps been separated from us at an early age. The final statement brought a ringing sense of trueness to me. I somehow couldn't think of her being dead and the nurses were always complaining about the fact that they had to feed an extra mouth. Again, the guilt wouldn't let me go. Where was she? Why hadn't I seen her in Hogwarts? How could I- an orphan who had recently lost her brother to insanity- ever wish that a potential sibling were dead? David shook me out of my musings.
" We could go to the nearby birth records centre. We'll search up your sister's name and see what comes up." He suggested. I nodded, still numb.
" Why did the orphanage sell the music box and my father's robes?" I asked after a long silence. I knew he was a Muggle, so my mother must have got him to wear Wizarding Robes so that he would blend in within a Magical party. But why? Why did my mother let my mother out of the love potion she had been drugging him with? I shook my head.
Selfish.
My father also deserved to have his own free will. Tom and I (I continued the thought process with something akin to a stinging pain and disgust) were born out of a loveless marriage. We were conceived through the rape of my own father. I almost snorted at the irony. It was only fitting that I was raped too.
I bit my lip.
No one deserves to be raped.
" You lived through the Second World War. My father told me that there was a massive clear out and that the orphanage sold all that they could to get money." He told me, his voice cautious. He didn't know how I would react, and for that reason, he was on edge. I didn't respond, anger filling me at the thought of Mrs Cole claiming that it was for the benefit of the orphanage before proceeding to turn around and drink herself to death. "T-Tia?" David stammered.
" I'll find Tom again, even if it kills me. Then I'll go and I'll make Cole pay dearly for that. I'll make her pay."
A/N: Well, what's it to be? A renovated story, or simply continuing with this one?
Thanks.
~ Annika