Thank you for reading! I don't own any of Harry Potter! Please let me know if you enjoy! Updates every Saturday!
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Three years passed by in what felt like minutes to Harriet and Tom.
His term as Minister for Magic continued without a single challenge while Harriet's charitable works increased.
The people often questioned the Minister but they dearly loved his kind-hearted wife.
Whether she visited ill children in St. Mungo's or brought bottles of Warming Elixir to the elderly, between helping others and being a wife and mother, Harriet tried to make good use of her time.
At age eight, Mark had still shown no sign of magical ability, although he had been spared his father's cruelty.
Tom had all but abandoned him, though he made sure to acknowledge him in Harriet's presence.
At age eleven, already an accomplished Parselmouth, James looked forward to receiving his own Hogwarts letter………in a way.
It saddened him to think his many adventures with his best friend, his beloved Lily would be put on hold.
The looming threat of imminent separation from James never entered Mae's mind.
As she entered her fourteenth year of life, she remained physically flawless, with the exception of her affected arm, which no healer had managed to correct.
Her world consisted of Riddle Manor, Tom, James, and on most days, her grandparents.
………….And her dolls.
Harriet and Merope often shopped in Muggle London for amusement.
When Mae had been with them one day, she had discovered the vast, addictive play lines of pretty, plastic muggle dolls that lined the shelves of large retail stores.
Tom despised anything to do with muggles from the depths of his soul, however, he couldn't deny his beloved little girl any request.
It hadn't taken long for Mae to have crates and crates filled with the newest additions to her collection.
It was Harriet who had insisted on bringing a muggle television into the house.
Tom gnashed his teeth whenever he found his children happily watching a programme or show on the worthless machine.
One summer morning, Mae sat in front of the television and hummed along to the tune that blasted from its speakers as she adjusted the dress on the doll in her hands.
Hey, Frankie's got me fallin' apart
Oh, Draculaura's stealin' my heart
Clawdeen Wolf, you make me howl at the moon
Lagoona, you're the finest fish in this lagoon
Cleo De Nile, you so beguile
Even though you act so vile (uh huh)
And Deuce has stone-cold style
These are my boos, my skeleton crew
A little strange, but so are you
Don't you wanna be a monster, too?
"...Don't you wanna be a monster too?" Mae whispered in time with the last line of the show's theme song.
A sudden thud from upstairs snapped her out of her trance.
She glanced up with her green eyes narrowed before she reluctantly stood to investigate.
Slowly, Mae left the room and wandered upstairs.
She could hear her brothers laughing as she approached.
Her parents stood at the end of the hallway.
"Laughing Potion?" Harriet scoffed at Tom in amusement, "How did they manage that? I've never seen you brew it before!"
"James did it all on his own." Tom boasted, "He told me so himself. Best to just watch them until it wears off, sweetling."
Mae frowned.
"...Daddy?" She called from down the hallway.
Harriet frowned as she looked over.
People commended Harriet for her efforts at helping others, although she had always felt she should have been congratulated for not showing favoritism to her children.
Having a daughter that despised her made it very difficult not to treat her sons better.
"Yes, my princess?" Tom asked Mae with a smile.
"Who will take me to the store? Grandmother and Grandfather are still on holiday……You promised you'd take me this morning…..to buy the new doll!" Mae reminded Tom as she narrowed her emerald eyes to slits.
"Of course, darling! Give it a bit and we'll go, alright? Your mother and I need to keep an eye on your brothers until they settle down." Tom nodded.
Mae grit her teeth.
"But it's just down the street!" She cried.
"Your father will take you there this afternoon, sweetheart." Harriet smiled.
Mae cast her mother a glare of utmost loathing before she turned to Tom and huffed, "They'll be sold out by then! Little Hangleton's shop is the first in the country to have a shipment, Dad! They've been released in America for almost a year! It may take months to get any more!"
"I'm the Minister for Magic, princess." Tom laughed, eager to console his child with the truth he loved declaring, "If need be, I'll contact the other Minister and he'll reach out to the American President. We'll get you that doll, don't worry your pretty little head."
Mae turned on her heel and stomped back down the stairs.
"Yes, Daddy, I will get my doll, thank you." She murmured through her gnashed teeth.
Merope and Tom senior were out of town for the week and with Lawrence busily tending to his morning chores, there was no one to keep Mae from digging through Harriet's purse.
She helped herself to the amount of muggle money necessary to purchase her doll before she silently opened the front door and slipped out into the world.
At fourteen, Mae Riddle had no trouble walking through the world by herself.
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With her bouncing, dark curls floating around her as she walked, her bright, emerald eyes flashing in her untouched, porcelain face and her slender figure in the budding stages of blossoming development, Mae Riddle was a pedophile's dream.
Her perfect, pink lips parted as her jaw dropped once the muggle shopkeeper shrugged a short while later and informed her, "Sorry, Miss, there was a queue as soon as we opened. I'm afraid we sold them all."
Mae blinked.
The man behind the counter frowned.
"You don't have a single one?!" She spat in a cutting hiss.
"No, Miss, if I did, I'd certainly sell it to you!" The shopkeeper laughed, "I may get another shipment in before the holiday season though, check back in a few months, won't you?"
Mae threw the man a horrible scowl before she turned and left the shop.
Posted outside, next to the large window, a suspicious set of blue eyes watched her come out just before a voice called to her, "Looking for the special edition, by chance?"
Mae stopped on the sidewalk and turned to glance over her shoulder.
There, next to the ship's large window, a tall, thin muggle man dressed in nondescript clothes frowned down at her with an unreadable look on his face.
"The collector Draculaura?" Mae frowned, "I'm too late, they're sold out. The shopkeeper told me the truth…….I know it."
"I have an extra one at home." The man shrugged, "I bought it for my daughter but she told me she doesn't want it after all. I'd be glad to give it to you, if you could come home with me."
Tom and Harriet had not raised their children to be stupid.
Never talk to strangers had been a prominent lesson imparted on Mae, James, and Mark.
Agreeing to leave a public place with one would have been unthinkable, but Mae knew exactly what she was doing as she read the man's unhinged mind and beamed excitedly, "Alright, then! Let's go!"
Without delay, she skipped over to the muggle man's vehicle he directed her to and climbed inside.
As one monster met another, the man was beside himself with joy.
It had never been that easy before for him to secure a victim, much less one so unbelievably beautiful.
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The muggle man lived nearby, five minutes drive past the shops.
He chatted with Mae as they climbed out of his car and walked into his house.
"It stinks in here." She complained as soon as she stepped over the threshold.
"Sorry, I haven't had the chance to clean lately." The man mumbled as he gestured to a plush recliner beside the open pathway that led to the hall.
Mae frowned.
"Go on and sit." He frowned in return.
"Where's my doll?" Mae asked.
"Sit down and I'll bring it to you." The man promised without a smile.
He gazed down at Mae as a hungry man would look at a piece of appetizing meat while she walked over to the chair and obediently sat.
"Would you like anything to drink or eat?" The man asked.
"I would like my doll." Mae scowled.
"Of course." The man nodded.
He swpt behind Mae and disappeared into the recesses of his home only to return a moment later and hand her the plastic prize she desired.
An exaggerated gasp tore from her throat as she clutched the coffin-shaped box and marveled at the toy within.
"Oh, she's beautiful!" Mae exclaimed, "Look at her!"
"Almost as beautiful as you………" The man said as his eyes hovered on the exposed portion of Mae's thighs that peeked out from under the hem of her skirt. His mouth watered at the curves of her immature breasts before he asked, "...What's your name?"
Mae hardly heard him as she carefully opened the box and began to pry the doll free, "I'm the princess."
"Every girl's a princess to me." The man said as he watched Mae rise to her feet, "Would you like something to eat or drink?" He offered again.
His mind raced while he tried to determine the swiftest path to what he wanted.
"Yes, but I'm the princess and that's the difference." Mae haughtily replied, "No, thank you, some scissors would be nice instead."
The man's cold eyes flickered with evil malice as he nodded and gestured, "Why don't you come into the kitchen and I'll get them from the drawer?"
Mae didn't protest in the slightest as she followed the man through his stinking house into the little kitchen that seemed unnervingly clean.
Her eyes narrowed while her tapered fingers pulled on the plastic ties around the doll.
Behind the sink, there was a telltale splash of red that had stained the tile.
Mae's fixation with what was hers allowed her to overlook that grisly spot.
The man watched her, gleeful that her attention remained on the doll while he walked over and opened up the drawer on the far left of the cabinets.
"Unboxing her will ruin her resale value." He teased in a voice that sounded far too calm.
"My dolls are mine and always will be." Mae replied, "...All of them, even you."
The man smirked as he reached inside the drawer.
Mae failed to look up as she asked, "You really are going to make me change your clothes, aren't you?...I've never changed a big doll's clothes before, only small ones"
The man silently withdrew a hammer from inside the drawer, still bearing gruesome reminders from its last macabre usage.
He grinned.
If he struck correctly, then he would enjoy the pleasure of seeing his victim writhe for a moment.
Mae continued to nonchalantly pull on the plastic strings in the doll's box.
Flick, Flick, Flick.
She furrowed her brow in concentration as she focused on her task.
The only sound came from her fingers tirelessly pulling on the plastic binds.
The muggle man took his opportunity.
With a hideous snarl on his face, he raced towards Mae.
His eyes flashed with malicious delight as he swung his hammer and aimed right for her skull.
His weapon moved through the air……
Flick, Flick, Flick.
With her back turned towards her assailant, Mae simply pulled her gloved fingers into a tight fist.
Bright, green flames erupted from the man's feet all the way up to the top of his head.
His hammer burned along with him as a single shriek of pain and terror left his lips before his body dissolved into ash.
"AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"
In the silence that followed, a single noise rang out as Mae continued her work without so much as glancing over her shoulder.
Flick, Flick, Flick.
Behind her, from the scattered ashes of the man's cremated remains, a gelatinous, black blob began to form.
Feet gradually appeared.
Legs.
A curved spine.
Taller and taller it grew until it towered over her.
Flick, Flick, Flick,
Mae paid the tall, thin, faceless creature no particular attention as she sat down on the kitchen floor with a sigh.
Once the creature loomed over her and cast a shadow in the afternoon light that trickled through the kitchen window, she finally turned to look up with a scowl, "Are you finished at last?! It shouldn't have taken you that long to change clothes! Hurry up!" She commanded as she held out the box.
The visible nightmare made no sound as it reached out a talon-shaped finger and began to effortlessly slice through the strong, plastic ties.
"Careful!...Don't ruin her hair!" Mae snapped.
The lesser predator nodded at the greater one as it finished its assignment and stepped back.
After a solid hour of playing with her doll in the same room where she had committed her first murder, Mae returned home, content to hide her spoils from her parents.
She concealed the plastic doll in her closet and vanished the other with a snap of her gloved fingers.
Mae plopped down on her bed and carelessly let her skirt fan over the covers as she yawned, knowing she could play with either of her new toys again whenever she felt ready.
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While Mae napped in her room and her parents finished tending her brothers, a brown owl glided over Riddle Manor.
Lawrence blinked as a single, white envelope tumbled down the chimney and fell into the empty hearth.
He frowned as he stooped down and retrieved the letter, but his eyes widened once he read the address:
To Mr. Thomas James Arthur Riddle, III
Riddle Manor at Riddle Estate
Little Hangleton
For the previous month, Lawrence had endured Tom junior's daily questioning about that very parcel.
Eager to show his master the anticipated letter had finally arrived, Lawrence set off at a frantic shuffle to deliver that important piece of mail.