Lilith sat in the lobby of the orphanage waiting for a man named Hagrid. He was going to take her to diagon alley to buy her school supplies.
She started her first year of Hogwarts in less than a month.
But, at eleven years old, she'd been through a lot. She'd been an orphan since she was one day old. Her parents had died in the second wizarding war; however, no one told her they had died for a just cause, that they were missed, or that they were good people. For most people, it was the exact opposite.
In fact, the only people who didn't celebrate her parents death were in parents or dead.
Her father was Tom Riddle, better known as Lord Voldmort. He had started the war in his quest for power. Her mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, had been one of his most and most loyal followers.
Her mother had been married to another man when she was born but no death eater dared to defy or disagree with Voldemort in any way.
Lilith had been moved between different homes and the orphanage for 11 years. Every time she heard the whispers between the adults. Her story was told.
Most of the families tried to treat her like a normal child. As if her parents hadn't been two of the most evil, vile people to walk the earth. As if their deaths were not celebrated throughout all of Great Brittan; as if they were not afraid she would end up like them.
There was a loud bang at the door. Lilith looked to the door and saw a very large man outside the door. "Lilith?" he asked. She nodded. "Well, come on then." She nodded.