It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare. It is because we do not dare that things are difficult.-Lucius Annaeus Seneca

Lila POV

I'm not quite sure how long I remained in the hospital wing. It remains a blur of questions, strangers, examinations and him, the mystery boy that was always lurking in the shadows, yet never approached me. Odd questions, with no reason, such as how old are you, what's your name, what are you? And so, with little contact to anyone that wasn't a medic, I withdrew into myself, and enforced my walls. When they finally let me out, after what must have been some number of months, I was sent to visit one Professor McGonagall, who I knew of only from the whispers of my past homes, if you could call them that.

When I arrived at a large statue of a Phoenix, I noticed a rather odd bowl of sweets lying next to it farthest right claw. Inside was a little note lying along side the yellow sweets with "-drops" inscribed upon it. After taking one quick sniff of the bowl I deduces that the flavour was lemon, and using common sense I had assumed that it was the password. Very quietly and with my fingers crossed, I whispered "Lemon Drops" and the Phoenix began to rotate, revealing a flight of stairs, which I hurriedly climbed, anxious not to get trapped in this seemingly automatic example of magic.

Upon arriving at the top of the stairs, I entered a circular and dome shaped room, that was precociously decorated, with over shined ancient magical instruments, that seemed to be more use as decor than for actual magic. Portraits lined the walls, each speaking in hushed tones and peering at my face with an interesting mix of emotions. Behind a large desk, made of what appeared to be mahogany, was a woman. Middle aged if I were to guess, around sixty, yet holding obvious grace and intellect that would be deemed extraordinary for someone half or twice her age.

"Ah, I see that you have been released, though I must apologise for not personally overseeing your medical care. I was slightly busy, there was an issue with the plumbing again, it seems the castle is responding to something."she said, in an overall kind manner, yet hinting at greater power and ability than immediately recognised.

"What is it responding too?"

"You dear. It seems that Hogwarts is at war with itself as to what to do about you, what with you being both Slytherin's heir and Voldemort's daughter. But don't worry dear, none of the students know your here yet."

"What about the boy?"

"My dear, which boy?"

"Emerald, his eyes. Dark hair, pale skin?"

"Do you mean Harry Potter? Yes, I think you must, he was there when we brought you in."

"Oh, okay."

"Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I assume that you will be attending Hogwarts. And due to the mental assessments we gave you, you are more than prepared to join the seventh year classes, that is if you feel that you are ready."

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, then there is just the small issue of the sorting, we will do that now if it is ok with you?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Very well then."

The headmistress walked over to one of the many bookshelves in the corner, and picked up a dishevelled, dark brown wizards hat.

"Place this on your head dear, and we'll see where you belong."

I carefully took the hat and put it on my head. Confused as to what was about the happen, I jumped out of my skin when it started talking.

"Ahh, such a mind. So clever and wise, so experienced, yet naïve beyond imagination. Brave, yet sly and cunning. Not Hufflepuff, no, too scheming for Helga's house. Ravenclaw? You certainly have the brain. Yet somehow I feel that you hide it. Desperate for a way out that won't expose you for what you are. So we must leave dear Rowena here. So, Slytherin or Gryffindor? The house of your family, or the house of your saviours? Yes I see your mind. Scared, yet proud. Strong yet weak. So much potential, but so scared to use it. A witch only by name, not by power. So much more. The Snake, or the Lion?"

"Don't let them destroy me" is all I said. Barely a whisper.

"Then the Lion. Embrace it, and don't be afraid." The hat said, then louder "Gryffindor!"

"So there will be no need to address your head of house, as you are already talking to her, welcome to Gryffindor. Now, onto the next order of business. Do you wish for people to know who you are, or create a pseudonym?"

"I want to be me. Lila Merope Riddle, and accept whatever comes with that."

"But surely you will be safer dear..."

"No, I stay me, I don't let them win."

"Okay dear, just let me call the head-girl, she will be in most of your classes, especially if you pick certain electives."

""Okay."

"Sonorous..."was muttered quietly, then slightly louder "communodirectusbihogwarts." Finishing with "will Hermione Granger please come up to the headmistresses office."

"She should be up in a minute."

After silently waiting what seemed like an age, a short young woman, with a slender birdlike figure and bushy chestnut coloured hair arrived at the office door.

"You called for me?"

"Ah yes Miss Granger, this is..."

"Lila, Lila Riddle."I interjected, no longer able to stand the tense atmosphere.

"Wait, Riddle, as in..."

"Yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle is my father."

The head-girl took a small step backwards, seemingly to steady herself after the obvious shock of finding out that the wizarding worlds greatest enemy has a daughter, who is in fact standing right in front of you.

"Tom Riddle, as in THE Tom Riddle, Voldemort, the Dark Lord, He Who Must Not Be Named? That Tom Riddle?"

"Yes."

"Wow. Just Wow."

"Okay girls, as much as listening to stuttering adolescents is the highlight if my day, I do have some work to be getting in with, so if Miss Granger would be so kind ad to show Miss Riddle the spare bed in your dormitory, that would be most helpful."

"Okay professor."

Reluctantly the head-girl led her enemy's daughter to her new living quarters. And, with no ulterior option, her enemy's daughter followed...

Hat POV

A mind like that I had not seen in centuries. As smart as the Ravens, possibly even more so. Almost as kind as the Badgers, let down by her Slytherin traits. As brave as the Lions, with the ability to do something about her bravery. And as clever, scheming and sly as Salazar himself.

"That one's special." I had said.

"I know, but it's her medical results that worry me. The spells we have used, the potions and the charms are not equal to the outcome, she should still be in hospital."

"She is not one of you, allow her to blossom and find her own path. For then she will either destroy you all, or be your saviour, but that has to be her choice."

"Let's just hope she follows the path of light."

"Yes, let's hope she does..."

Hermione POV

She was HIS daughter, and that was a fact that could not just be forgotten. But she was so much more. Tall, poised, elegant and downright beautiful. I had never seen anything like her. And a GRYFFINDOR? How was that even possible, I mean just take a look at her family history. But then I remembered Sirius Black. Born of Slytherin's greatest, becoming Gryffindor's hero. Everyone deserves a chance, or they will become who they are expected to be, even if that will cause pain.

"Hi, my name is Hermione Granger."

"Lila Riddle."

"Just a quick question, where have you been, I mean, you are going immediately into seventh year, and you look like that's where you belong anyway, so where have you been?"

Just after I said it, I realised that I had crossed some form of line. That there was a reason I had not heard of her before that day. So she simply said:

"Trust is a fine thing, appreciated and respected by all. However it is also something that you have to earn. Maybe one day, you and I will be in a position where we posses that trust, however by this time tomorrow the whole school will probably have a vague idea anyway, so it is probably best that I tell you, but it is a long story, so I would appreciate it if you would lead me to a place where we can talk in private."

And so I did. I lead her to the head-girl's private room, and she told me. Stories of pain and hurt that I was unaccustomed to hearing, and she was unaccustomed to telling. Of betrayal, regret and acts so atrocious I didn't want to believe them. She showed me her scars, and told me their stories. From the callous words, to the almost elegant lines, adorning her skin. And I helped her start to heal.

A/N right, so here's a little Pesach/Easter treat. The first night of Pesach is over people, only six/seven more to go, but it depends where you are people.

So far the only title suggestion was: In The Darkest Life of Them All.

Can people send their suggestions in in the form of reviews? Also, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter, as it is a little different.

Live long and prosper, have a good Easter, and yom tov. Happy Pesach.

I love you all. Oh and thanks to my brother Sam for reading over this chapter and supplying me with the idea for where the ending is going. I don't plan ahead with my stories, so what happens will be just as much of a surprise for me as it is for you.

~sorry about the llama's~