Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, except Darla. J.K. Rowling owns them. Thank You.
StepfatherTom Riddle walked the halls of his home. His face wore a sort of crazy smile. All of it was his. In this life of course.
He suddenly remembered Harry Potter. Yes, he'd do something about that. A call rang out. "DAD!" Darla, his Darla was calling.
"Be right there!" he yelled back, but Darla was already running. She jumped from the top of the last pair of steps and onto to her dad. And they fell back hard.
"Jeez, how much do you weigh Darl?" Riddle said as he tried to come up. "120 pounds," she replied tartly. He rolled his eyes. When both were up, they fell again laughing so much. "Would you get off of me?" Darla asked to which her father replied smartly "Can I? You're the one trying to crush me."
Darla rolled off and her father got up. He held out a hand and brought her up. Together they walked to the kitchen. The kitchen had a beautiful décor. The walls and floor were marble and they had silver cooking equipment, the whole supply.
They settled down at the table to eat. There were lots to eat, but they chose a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
