This idea had been driving me insane (well more insane than I am already) for the best part of half a year, just needling away in the back of my brain, nip, nip, nipping at me until I finally caved in and started to write it down.

If you hadn't guessed from the summary this story is going to be considerably darker than my usual fare. Not much in the way of fluff and fun here I'm afraid as this is from that deep, dark place at the depressive end of my mind which makes, thankfully, infrequent appearances. Unfortunately for you that also means rather infrequent updates as, for my own mental health, I can't stay in this kind of a mood for long. Although I have found that 'writing it out' is a much more productive use of these depressive spirals, that I get caught in every now and again, than sitting, brooding in a darkened room.

This is actually quite a nice, normal chapter. Not exactly fluff but more neutral setup. Don't worry, that's not going to last long. I promised dark and it will definitely get there trust me. Maybe not this chapter or even the next but soon and with a vengence.

This is the first time I have written in 'first person' perspective so please forgive any rookie errors that I may make along the way.

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I'm not JKR and I don't make any money from this. Which is a bit of a shame.

DtR xx.

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Riddle; Story of a Devil.

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Chapter 1. A beginning

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Grandmere's funeral was not exactly a well attended affair. Myself and Pere Robert along with a leering gravedigger or two were all that were there that bright, late summer Friday morning at the small graveyard attached to St Francis' Catholic Church. Or at least so I thought.

As I thanked the pere and started to make my way to the lychgate I saw a tall, white bearded old gentleman in a black frock coat that would have been out of style when my grandmere was a girl watching me. He was clearly a magical and just as clearly wished to speak to me on a matter relating to my recently deceased relative or my situation although what that could be I had no idea. My sixteenth birtday was a little under six weeks away and i didn't for one moment believe that the authorities would bother with placing me in the care of a guardian for that short space of time. As it happened I was very wrong.

"Good morning Miss Riddle, my condolences on your tragic loss."

At my furrowed brow and brief 'quoi?' the oddly dressed old man switched to butchering my native language with a broken and clearly very rarely used version of antiquated French. He gave his name as Albus Dumbledore and immediately asked if I knew anything of my father. My response to this enquiry may have been a little bad tempered due to the circumstances of the morning's event and, knowing my uneven temper, it would not surprise me if I had insulted him as well as the man who supplied my genes. I am sure that he only caught about a third of what I was saying but it seemed to put his mind somewhat at rest as he gave a large sigh and asked if he might accompany me home so that we could have a discussion on my future.

He may have attempted conversation on our walk back to the village but honestly I was rather pre-occupied, not only with the fact that I had just buried my grandmere, but with the healing potion base that I had put on to simmer before leaving. In combination with his atrocious accent I will admit that this made me take very little interest in what the strange, old Englishman was saying to me.

Once back at what was now my shack the old boy's ramblings ceased as he seemed to do a bit of a double take when he realised that this dirty, broken down old shed was actually where I lived. Again I paid no attention to him in favour of turning to attend to my brewing. I suspect that he may have spent some time watching me at my work, perhaps deciding on which of his pre-determined courses of action he would be taking today. Knowing what I now know of the man I have no doubt that this was precisely what he was doing.

After I had finished my work with all of the painstaking precision that grandmere had drilled into me I made the two of us some tea and joined him at the roughly hewn table. Giving me a somewhat forced looking smile he began laying out documents before me, none of which I could read as they were all in English, he started to explain what they were and my options in regard to them. From what I could understand those options were very few. Non existent in fact. The only piece of parchment-work that mattered in this sheaf was that this man had been legally appointed by both the French and British authorities as my legal magical guardian and what he said went at the end of the day. That much I understood.

I think that we were both rather relieved when he left with nothing being decided between us.

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The next day when this Albus Dumbledore arrived at my home it was less of a surprise for us both and the fact that he arrved with someone who could actually speak my language without torturing it helped a lot too. This Madame Vector made the resulting conversation a lot less stressful for everyone involved and I was very grateful for her presence right up to the point at which the reason for his visit became apparent.

The previously viewed documents were brought out again and this time Madame Vector's explanation of them, this time in perfectly understandable modern French made a great deal more sense to me. As I had surmised the most important was the guardianship document. Important but dull, the others held a much more exciting prospect, chief among them being the full financial scholarship to a prestigious British boarding school for the next three years.

School.

That place to which, more than any other, I had dreamed of going for so long. And not just any school. This Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was one of the three most famous educational establishments in Europe. So much so that even out here in the arse end of nowhere we had heard of it. Giddy was not a word that could be applied to my emotions in my life so far but it was definitely appropriate now.

I could hardly believe that this was really happening to me. The teasing, phantom idea of three whole years of proper education ahead of me almost caused me to forget a few important things. Like the fact that this school was in Britain and I couldn't speak a word of English or that I had not attended any kind of school before and would be far behind everyone else in my studies.

At least in terms of these issues my fears were put at ease by Madame Vector's assurances of extra tuition as and when it was required and Monsieur Dumbledore, who it turned out was the headmaster of Hogwarts, telling me that every effort would be made to integrate me into life there. It was all an absolute crock of shit of course but at the time it was very convincing for a girl like me who was looking for any and all reasons to believe that it was possible for her dreams to come true.

It wouldn't be long before the dream would become a nightmare but right then I was prepared to accept pretty much any conditions that these people made if it meant that I got to attend a proper school. So now when I was being requested to pack up any of my meagre belongings in this place that I deemed to be essential or of emotional value I set to with an enthusiasm that made my English visitors smile.

The only things that I ended up taking was the battered old cauldron and grandmere's box of her favourite preparation knives and stirring rods. I literally had nothing else. There were no photographs as a camera was a luxury that my family had never been able to afford, no scrap books either since we had never done anything of note. It was a pathetically small collection of heirlooms for three generations of witches to have assebled in their lifetimes and the embarrassment that I felt for that fact was mirrored in the faces of my guests.

"Ne vous inquiétez pas pour ça mon petit chout. Vous avez beaucoup des temps pour faire vos propres souvenirs." (Dont worry about it little one. You have plenty of time to make your own memories.)

The words from the kind woman had me swiping my eyes to clear the unexpected moisture from them before I could manage a simple nod of gratitude and inform them that I was ready to leave.

I fed the animals for the last time, set fire to the greenhouse and penned a quick note to Pere Robert leaving the property to the Church which Dumbledore promised to deliver and we were off to Britain and my new life. The port-key was an uncomfortable experience for me as I had never before used any form of magical transportation and the destination was less than inspiring, a public house, but hopefully it would just be a stepping stone for me on my journey.

The fact that I was required to stay here for the remainder of the ten days before the school started did not phase me and my room, in stark contrast to the rest of the establishment, turned out to be quite clean and comfortable. Certainly more so than anything that I was used to back home.

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Bearing in mind that, other than my visits to the local church, I had never left my village before my first sight of the magical shopping district at Diagon Alley was always going to leave me awestruck and a bit breathless. There were plenty of nerves as well of course due to me not having dealt with many, or indeed, any people before and I was like the proverbial peasant girl on her first visit to the big city. It was intimidating and overwhelming and I soon found myself falling back on my old habit of quiet observation while my guide, the once again available Madame Vector sympathetically tried to ease my nerves with conversation. I did have to wonder how good of a professor she was if she were able to simply take days off with a little over a week before the school term was due to start but decided to cut her some slack since she was doing it to help me out.

Purchases of anything that were not the occasional book wasn't something that I was very used to doing and I was very glad of the calming influence of the efficient woman by my side that day. She had turned up at my room early on the morning of my first full day in my new country to inform me that we were going shopping for my school uniform, textbooks and other supplies and received one of my rare, real smiles for her trouble along with a hug that lasted long enough to embarrass us both. Once we were under way, however, and the sights, sounds and smells of the Alley were threatening to over-come my country girl sensibilities I did notice with pleasure that she took my hand and held tightly to it for the rest of the day.

I relaxed and we actually started to have a bit of fun selecting robes from Malkins and haggling for seldom used but always useful potions supplies to supplement the school list. I think that we smiled more that day than either of us were used to doing. Yes alright it was soppy but to the affection starved girl that I was back then Septima Vector was like my own personal angel that day and I would never forget her kindness to even in the worst of the bad times to come.

The wand shop was probably my least favourite place that we visited that day. It wasn't so much the premises itself as it was the creepy old man who pounced on us from the shadows and nearly earned himself my fist in his face for his trouble. And it didn't get much better when he finally got down to business after doing something of a double take when he heard my name. The old man seemed very nervous if his constant muttering was anything to go by as I tried wand after wand, none of which met with his approval until finally he gave me a dark wood focus that produced an impressive array of purple sparks when waved.

Despite the success he appeared to be, if anything, more displeased than when he started but since professor Vector had been rather tight lipped during our visit here I was unsure as to why that should be. But hey I had another of those things for which I had longed for many years. A wand. My wand. My first wand. And what a wand it was. Smooth, dark, ebony wood, unadorned apart from a dragon's head carved into the grip which gave me my only clue as to it's core.

Nestled comfortably in my palm it felt as if it fit me like a warm glove on a cold winters day. It felt ... right and it was a real struggle for me to put it back in the polished mahogany box that the old man produced. I could have sworn that I heard it calling out to me that it wanted, needed to be in my hand not hidden away and stifled in this wooden prison. Frankly I agreed but under the close scrutiny of the two adults it didn't seem adviseable to push the matter, especially since Madame Vector had apparently found her voice again and explained that, here in Britain, I could not legally use it outside of class until I turned seventeen.

Since that was still over a year away I was not pleased at this piece of information but kept my face schooled to a neutral expression while nodding my agreement. Yes it was not ideal but abiding by the archaic regulations of this country was simply the price I had to pay for my chance at an education. Something that I learned early on in life. There is always a price for what we do.

Soon enough all the necessary books supplies were acquired along with a French-English-French dictionary and I was returned to my room at The Leaky Cauldron. A pleasant lunch shared with my guide, who was much more garrulous now that the stressful task of shopping had been completed, and I could at last begin to tear into my shiny, new schoolbooks. No matter that I couldn't read them yet, I had my dictionary, huge reserves of patience and nine more days with nothing else to do. It was heaven for me.

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On the First of September Madame Vector had once more arrived at my lodgings to collect me at a little before six that evening and the Arithmancy professor immediately set about shrinking and pocketing my trunk while I settled the bill with Tom. I would have been sad to leave this most comfortable of lodgings had it not been for our destination. Hogwarts school.

It has been more than twenty years since then but I still remember my first sight of Hogwarts Castle as if it were yesterday. The excitement had been building in my mind all day, giving me probably entirely unrealistic expectations of the place but I have to say that even compared with my over eager imaginings it did not disappoint.

As we made our way up to the gates I was struck totally dumb by the magnificence of the ancient castle with it's tall towers lit up and the warm, glowing welcome of the main entrance, it's doors open wide in invitation to me. I felt as if I had finally found that special place for which I had been searching for my whole life. It was perfect and made even more so when the distant whistle of the express sounded from somewhere outside the village below us. I understood then that I had been brought up here slightly early in order to avoid the mad rush of other students and the thought that I had been given the special priveledge of seeing it empty and unsullied like this made me effusive in my thanks to my guide.

I suspect that I was in a worse state than when we had first visited the Alley in London as my head was constantly on the move, swivelling to take in the next sight, each more impressive than the last, as I was led to a small chamber and told to wait. There were certainly worse places that I could be pushed into to wait upon the whims of the headmaster and his staff as it was filled with curious items and moving portraits. I was managing to distract myself quite successfully, having found a portrait of very chatty and giggly French milk maid to engage in a conversation of husbandry techniques with, when my attention was caught by something shiny on one of the tables. Unfortunately I have always had a bit of a weakness for shiny things. It has got me into trouble more times than I care to recount.

Making my excuses to the charming mademoiselle I hopped over to the previously espied sparkly object and began a thorough investigation of it. Ten minutes of 'thorough investigation' later and I still had absolutely no idea what it was but decided to pocket it anyway when my name was called by someone and I was up and on the move while trying not to look too guilty.

Walking from the side chamber where I had been waiting and into the great hall of Hogwarts was more of a shock to me than Diagon Alley had been. Even though I knew, intellectually speaking, that this was a large school I was completely unprepared for the sheer number of students that sat staring at me with varying degrees of interest and/or suspicion as I crossed the stage. My name it seemed had had quite an effect on some of the people within the great hall and being an obvservant sort I flicked my eyes around their various expressions.

In the student section there was shock and fear from a tallish, striking, ginger haired girl and this prompted a protective set of the jaw from the black haired boy and brunette girl on either side of her as they stared daggers at me. It was an interesting reaction to be sure but I found that the honest incredulity from the greasy looking man at the staff table to be much more so. Especially when it began to morph into a cunning leer. I could almost see the gears in his mind working. What they all found so interesting about me I had not the slightest inkling but I doubted that it would be good.

My observations were brought to a swift close, however, as the stern woman in the ridiculous pointy hat gently but firmly sat me down on a small, three legged stool and dropped a moth eated and raggedy old hat over my head.

"Ah bonjour Mademoiselle Riddle, I have been waiting a very long time to meet you."

I tried to turn my head to see who was talking to me, disoriented for a few moments before I realised that it was the hat who had spoken. Of course 'spoken' wasn't quite the right word.

"The house of your ancestors would be the obvious choice and you certainly have the ambition for it but I fear that you would not fare so well there. Hmm, perhaps your thirst for knowledge should be my guide here. Tell me my dear what do you consider to be the greatest thing that you desire, what do you hunger for. Knowledge or Power?"

I remember thinking to myself two things at this point. First, who exactly were these ancestors and why had they gone here? And second, that this was a ridiculous question to ask as you quite obviously could not have power without first having the knowledge to grant you the means of achieving it. This sorting hat fellow clearly agreed with me.

"Exactly! Oh I do so love the clever ones. Even more so when they don't know who they are yet. Off you go then to ..."

"Ravenclaw!"

The muted applause that greeted this shout from the suddenly removed headgear was not overly enthusiastic even from what was now my own House but I dutifully followed the always helpful professor Vector's instruction to seat myself at the blue clad table.

On the short walk there I considered where I should seat myself and had just made up my mind to sit next to the rest of the new intake when I spotted a shock of long, bright blonde hair. My feet then simply refused to acknowledge the signals being sent from my brain and instead of going where I had intended to I ended up standing next to this girl and blinking rapidly. As she turned to indicate that I should sit she gave me the brightest smile that I had ever seen. I mean it literally lit up the entire hall.

Well that's how it seemed to me anyway.

And like the uneducated, unco-ordinated country bumpkin that I was I actually stumbled and fell into the seat next to her.

She did not have what most people consider to be classic beauty, her face was a touch too round and her eyes protruded slightly from it. But what eyes they were. I think that's what really did it for me. Those gorgeous, sparkling, flashing eyes in a shade of silver flecked grey that I had never encountered before and they were so full of life that their sheer vivacity held me in a kind of fascinated trance. I fell and I fell hard.

From the very instant that those wondrous orbs met mine I was totally gone. It was love at first sight for me and I have no shame in that admission. I know what people say about the existence of such a cliched notion as that but I also know that then, there, in that crowded and noisy dining hall it happened to me.

"Hello, I'm Luna Lovegood." She peered at me closely over a spoonful of pudding. "Wow you're very pretty aren't you."

And she was off.

I actually found her constant, breathy chatter very calming and although I could understand barely a single word that the peculiarly beautiful girl spoke to me I smiled at her, put my elbows on the table and my chin in my hands and let the words wash over me. I'm pretty sure that I looked like a complete idiot staring at her like that but she didn't seem to mind in the least. Not if her constant little touches and shuffling that brought her thigh into contact with mine were anything to go by anyway. The lightning that shocked me at each new brush of those magical fingers was making it warmer and harder to breathe and her arm working it's way around my waist to squeeze me tight against her did nothing to disapate that feeling.

Before too long the feast was done and it was time for us to head off to our Houses. I'm certain that I would have been gawking at my surroundings as much as any of the first years as we made our way through the castle to Ravenclaw Tower except that my eyes were rivetted on the lightly skipping blonde beside me. The trip was a blur and I noticed nothing but her until suddenly we were stood in a large, circular, book strewn room.

Our diminutive Head of House had somehow managed to get to the Ravenclaw common room before us greeted his students one by one as they entered. Apparently this was a bit of a tradition in the House of blue and bronze and a point of pride that professor Flitwick always beat the students back here despite leaving the feast after them. Although I would come to enjoy it in later years it was all a bit lost on me this night. Until he took advantage of my inattention to ambush me that is.

"Good evening young lady, you must be our new transfer student. Miss Riddle yes?"

If he had waited for an answer he would have been disappointed as I simply stared at him uncomprehending but he hadn't. He was chattering away at high speed which almost, but not quite, matched that of the little blonde cuddle monkey at my side. Although I could read some English I hadn't really tried to speak it yet and even if I had the rate that the words were spilling from his mouth would still have made it impossible for me to understand.

This was utterly ridiculous. Had nobody told the man that I only spoke French? I decided to do something to stop his ranting.

"I am not speak zee Eengleesh."

That stopped him in his tracks alright. Although whether it was the fact of my statement or my terrible first attempt at speaking his language that did it I wasn't quite sure. What I did know was that, after taking a moment to process it he shot off only to reappear half a minute later with an arm full of books and big smile before shooing the pair of us off to the dorms.

The wonderful little man had raided his own personal library to get me translations of his Charms texts and even a beginners guide to spoken English. My opinion of him improved drastically and I started to hope that I might not be so lost here as I had feared. Meanwhile my little blonde bundle of energy was busy dragging me up some stairs to the girls dorms and bathrooms.

"Come on Therese, this is our room."

Wait. What? Seeing my trunk at the foot of one bed and her jumping up and down on the other had got the meaning of her non sensical words across to me with great efficiency. Oh, no, no, no, this was too much. I could not be sharing a bedroom with her. My rabbit in the headlghts look must have gained her attention because she bounced up to me, relieved me of my books and then led me by the hand, unresisting to the middle of what was to be our room.

My over-whelming day, at last took it's toll and I collapsed onto my bed with two thoughts chasing each other round and round in my brain before sleep finally overtook me. I was at Hogwarts and I was in love. Merde, what a day.

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As usual I write for me. Honestly I really don't mind if nobody else reads this at all but reviews are always nice and I'd certainly never turn them away, just don't get caught up in the whole 'they would never do that' trap. This is all going to be pretty AU stuff.

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DtR xx.