Chapter one:

The moonlight creept through the split between two sheer curtains, and across the rug which Grace Riddle was lying on. A young girl of seventeen, Grace was anything but normal. Born into a rare wizarding family, whose lineage had supposedly died out fifty years earlier along with the supposed death of her grandfather, The Dark Lord Voldemort. By all means, he was still alive and well enough for a man who had graced the threshold of death many times, but what was unknown was that he had single daughter, who in turn, had another daughter. Grace Amelia Riddle, was shoved into a life of hiding, fear, and defeat when she was a little girl around eight years old when her mother was attacked and killed by none other than her grandfather's infamous death eaters. She had traveled around from foster home to foster home trying to find a safe place to live without the menacing thoughts that clouded her mind. She was forbidden from doing anything magically, and to say the least she did not posses any true magical talent.

As Grace lay on the floor in the room she was currently occupying at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she wondered just how quickly everything about her and her life could possibly changed. Less than forty-eight hours ago, she was a carefree senior back in her foster home in Minnesota, attending an average muggle highschool, taking average muggle classes, and doing everything in her power to forget exactly what and who she really was. The image Grace had worked so hard to create for herself had been shattered a mere forty-eight hours ago, when her grandfather, sent someone by the name of Bellatrix Lestrange to finish her off. She was a threat to him and his cause, and he was doing everything in his power, which was quiet a bit, to get rid of any loose ends in the Riddle lineage. Grace was by no means a naive girl, and knew exactly who she was, what talent she possessed, and just how she was a threat to her grandfather, but she did not however, understand just how deep the turmoil ran in Britain.

The sound of a tapping on her window woke her from her revere, and Grace looked up to see a black owl sitting patiently on her window sill. A small smile crept across her face as she recognized her own barn owl, Pegeen, bringing her some urgent message. It was a small reminder of home, and the nostalgia was overwhelming. She stood up and walked slowly to the window, a little disconcerted as to why someone would need contact her at 3 am, but decided against her better judgement to let the owl in. Pegeen flew in graciously through the window, and landed on the desk that was now Grace's, depositing a letter on her bed as she flew over it. Grace shut and locked the window, before turning her attention to the letter that lay on her green bedspread. Upon seeing the Hogwarts seal Grace released the breath she had been holding, and opened the letter immediately.

Ms. Riddle,

It is with pleasure that I welcome you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I hope that you enjoy your stay here. We do not know how long you will be attending school here, but we do know that you are perfectly safe inside the walls of Hogwarts. Do not worry, no one in Blair County was injured in the attack against you, and an effective memory charm was placed on all present. They have been informed that you are staying with a relative in Britain for a while your foster parents are away on business. You will keep up with your school work in Minnesota by correspondence. Tomorrow morning at breakfast you will be sorted into your house, and you will be given a time table of classes to attend, during which you will keep up with your own studies. You will be keeping your private room, however, to ensure that no one here under the allegiance of You-Know-Who does not corner you. Please keep your true identity a secret, however you will be able to use your given name if you wish. Meet me in my office at 6 am.

Good luck this year,

Professor Dumbledore

Grace re-read the letter six times, before placing it down, and looking at Pegeen. She smiled once more at the bird who was staring daggers at her, and then glancing at her water bowl. Grace stood up, and marched over to her desk in a very exaggerated manner.

"You know girl," she cooed, petting the top of her owl's head before walking to the adjoining bathroom with the bowl, "You are going to have to get used to staying in the owlery. I don't think anyone would like me very much if I got special privileges because I am the transfer student." Grace brought back the bowl, now filled with fresh water, and placed it on the desk. She bent over and opened the top desk drawer, and rummaged through until she found exactly what she needed. A pen and paper. She scrawled a quick note to Professor Dumbledore saying she would see him promptly at 6 am, and thanked him for the warm welcome. She attached the note to Pegeen's leg before opening the window to see her owl off. Funny how so much can change so quickly. I guess that is life. I love you mum, I love you papi, wherever you are, and with that she was off to prepare herself for the next few months.


The sun was beginning to peak through the curtains that surrounded Ron Weasley's bed, and he groaned loudly as he heard the familiar tapping sound against the window in between Harry's and his beds. He kicked off the comforter with much effort, and then sat up rubbing his eyes to chase away the last remnants of sleep. Ron pulled back his curtains only to be blinded by the sunlight pouring into the seventh year boy's dormitory. Recovering from initial shock, he glanced at the window to see a snowy white owl with a letter in its beak banging against the glass. He stole a glance at Harry, who was still sound asleep, muttering incoherently.

"Harry James Potter! Wake your lazy arse up, and let in that ruddy owl of yours!" Ron bellowed, but Harry merely rolled over at the sudden outburst. Ron put his face very close to Harry's to listen to what he was dreaming about. Something along the lines of 'Ginny, Ginny, Ginny!' were coming from his mouth. "That's it! Get your arse up, and stop dreaming of my sister, you pervert!"

"Wha-," Harry suddenly snapped back to reality when a pillow hit him hard on the head, "I was not...why is Hedwig here?" He glanced at the window, before getting up, putting on his glasses, and opening the window for her. She swooped in, dropped a letter on Harry's bed, and flew back out the window towards the owlery, most likely not wanting to miss breakfast. Harry was quick to open the letter. It read:

Mr. Potter,

I trust you are awake, since you are reading this. Please meet in my office at 6:30 am. It is urgent.

Professor Dumbledore.

Harry sighed, and shook his head to order his thoughts. This was strange, he hadn't done anything wrong since term had started two months ago. It was already November, and still nothing unusual had happened. Given, unusual for him meant nothing, but still. He looked at the clock that sat on his night stand, and realized it was already 6:10, and that he had only twenty minutes to shower, get dressed, and be in the Headmaster's office for this urgent meeting. Harry raced off towards the bathroom, leaving a very confused, and disgruntled Ron behind.

Harry ran as fast as he possibly could towards the Headmaster's office, and when he finally met the statue which marked its entrance he had to lean against a wall to catch his breath. "Licorice," he muttered before ascending the spiral staircase that led to an office he knew intimately. He knocked on the door before pushing it open, and walking in. His mouth immediately dropped open when he learned he was not the only one present for this meeting. A girl who looked to be about the same age as him turned around to stare at him when he entered. Her hair was a golden brown color, that was extremely curly, half as frizzy as Hermione's, and only went to her shoulders. Her eyes were a dark brown, that seemed almost black in the early morning light, and her smile was intoxicating, with perfectly straight, shining white teeth. The mystery girl was wearing black jeans, a purple tank-top, and white flip-flops, even though it was the beginning of November, and about thirty degrees as a high. She had her head cocked to the side, and was giving him a lopsided grin, when the Headmaster returned his attention to the matter at hand, the meeting.

"Ah, Mr. Potter I am so glad you made it. I didn't occur to me to have you present at this meeting, and I didn't know if your owl could make it to you in time," Professor Dumbledore gave Harry one of his knowing smile, and something twinkled behind his gaze.

"Good morning, Professor. What did you want to see me about?" Harry was still standing at the door, staring at this new girl, although now she had turned around and was reading something that lay in her lap.

"Please, take a seat," Harry walked across the room to an empty chair, and did as he was told, "This, Mr. Potter, is Grace Riddle. She is a transfer student of muggle studies from America. I want you to show her Gryffindor hospitality during her stay here, and keep her as comfortable as possible. I suggest you don't let her out of sight for too long, either, she is a real trouble maker that one, takes after her father. "

Riddle, Harry thought, she is a Riddle? If she is a Riddle, then why is she here, and didn't that line die out after Tom... But again, Harry's train of thought was ended by someone speaking, however, this time Grace herself was talking to him.

"I take it you are curious as to what a Riddle, such as myself, is doing here at Hogwarts, and why you always believed my grandfather was the last of us?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

How did she do that, he wondered, but instead responded with, "Well, yeah, I mean, no offense, isn't your family kind of mean and evil and wicked," he winced as he finished up his statement. It came out a lot meaner than intended.

"Don't worry, I am not offended in any way," she laughed a bit. He noticed she had a very contagious laugh, "You are half right. My grandfather and I are the only remaining living relatives of the Riddle line, and no, not all of us are evil. Obviously, my grandfather is, but he is not as powerful as people seem to think. I mean, I have escaped him, and he cannot seem to touch the famous Harry Potter," at this comment she glanced up towards the lightening shaped scar on his forehead.

Harry couldn't help but smile at her logic. She was right, he had managed to escape the Dark Evil Lord Voldemort since he was a year old, that has to count for something. But what did she mean, she herself had escaped him? Why would he go after his own family? He looked up, and his eyes locked with Grace's, and she smiled before speaking again.

"That is why I am here, Harry. He sent Bellatrix to attempt to finish me off, and when I was eight, he came after my mother and I, my mother died. He killed my father when I was really little. I normally attend an average muggle highschool in Blair County, Minnesota, USA...yes, that accounts for the accent. As for why he is attacking his own family, we are a threat, or I suppose, I am."

She finished and stood up, stretching as she did so. She really was gorgeous. Her book fell to the floor, and Harry bent over to pick it up, for her. Dubliners, by James Joyce. Funny, that is an Irish author, I wonder why she is reading it. Almost immediately her response came, "Irish Literature. Bitch of a class, really. Never, ever take a class called that, promise me." A shiver ran up her spine as Harry and her locked eyes once more. He went to remove his robes to offer them to her, but instead was preoccupied watching her close her eyes. A few seconds later he heard the shutting of doors from above Dumbledore's office, and then almost as quickly as she had shut them, she opened her eyes and returned his gaze. He realized there must be a look of confusion and interest on his face, because she smiled, her dark eyes twinkling, and put a hand out behind her. He averted his gaze to her hand, and into it flew a navy blue sweat shirt, which she immediately put on.

"Ms. Riddle, I must ask that you do not use your magic in public," Dumbledore said in an authoritative tone. "While, at home and by some Professors they may be understood, I assure you, your type of magic is very rare. Your name should cause enough suspicion, let alone whatever else you have up your sleeves."

"And I assure you, Professor Dumbledore," there was a definite bite behind her own tone, "that I do not care if others understand me. I promise you, that by the end of this month my purpose will be completed, and I will no longer be needed."

Harry looked back and forth between the two, neither of whom's stares quavered for a moment. The Headmaster, and this new mysterious girl, Grace Riddle, were engaged in some sort of staring contest to determine the winner of their argument. He back slowly towards the door to escape before something more momentous occurred. With one last look at the girl, he slipped through the door, and down the spiral staircase. He needed to speak to Hermione and Ron before breakfast started.