A/N: This fan fiction is written for the author's amusement. I happen to enjoy it, so I don't care if you hate it.
Anything in italics is telepathy/MindSpeak.
I think that's all. Enjoy, review, favorite, and follow! Thank you everyone!
Love, 4ever
It was at Hermione Granger's 8th birthday party that she first heard him. A voice, deep and rough. It was a voice that could sound menacing or caressing.
And it was inside her head.
She looked around frantically; no one was anywhere near her. The kids were all playing with one another...without her. She sighed. Everyone her age shunned her because she was too mature and not childish enough for their standards. She preferred reading large books at recess rather than stomping in mud and playing hopscotch (badly).
The voice spoke again, and this time Hermione listened.
How are you faring, young one?
Hermione shivered and cast a glance at everyone else. They were still busy talking to each other, and no one remembered the Birthday Girl. As usual.
She scurried off to her hiding place: a large, squat tree with a small space between the roots.
"Who are you?"
Oh, don't tell me Eileen didn't tell you about me! The voice sounded annoyed, Hermione thought, but slightly fond and wistful.
"Who's Eileen?" Hermione asked, puzzled.
Somehow, she got a mental image of an eyeroll. What is your mother's name?
"Mum said not to talk to strangers," Hermione said in a small voice. She peeked around the tree trunk. Good, no one had noticed that she was missing. Not that that was uncommon; it would usually sting, but today she was glad.
Oh, but I am not a stranger, Vivienna.
"Who's Vivienna?" Hermione was getting annoyed now. Maybe she should go tell her mum.
You are, dear. And you don't have to speak out loud. In fact, please don't. It hurts my head.
Surprised, Hermione tried thinking the words. Is this working...? Whoa!
The voice sounded amused. There you go, dear. Now what is your current name?
Current name? Hermione was not as amused, and she didn't hide the fact. My name is Hermione Granger.
Eileen always did like the name Hermione, the voice mused thoughtfully. But you were not born Hermione Granger. You were born Vivienna Celestine Riddle. The voice broke slightly, although Hermione didn't understand how a mental voice could break. My daughter.
Hermione gaped, both mentally and physically. I'm...your daughter? She didn't try to conceal her amazement. But you...you're a voice in my head!
She could have sworn that she saw a mental picture of a sarcastic grin. Very good, Vivienna. I am a voice inside your head. The tone was wry and sarcastically amused.
Stop calling me Vivienna! She demanded. My name is Hermione Granger.
May I call you Enna?
She mentally nodded.
The voice continued softly. My name is Tom Riddle. I am your father. I am a wizard. You have an older brother named Severus, and he teaches at the school I wish for you to attend when you turn eleven.
Hermione's expression turned incredulous. She wasn't dumb, by any stretch of the imagination, yet here she was, with a voice claiming to be her father telling her—mentally—that magic was real. And that she had a brother.
The voice—Tom Riddle, her...father—was telling her about his relationship with Eileen Someone-or-Other, who was apparently her mother.
My mother's name is Emma Granger, Hermione said, not just a little confused.
Tom spoke again: Just as your name is Hermione, eh? She changed both of your names...to hide...from me. The raw pain and anguish showed in his voice. Please, Enna, just hear me out.
Hermione agreed.