It was a gloomy September 1st of the year 1943. With the entire length of the Hogwarts Express behind her, Layla Colby, a sixteen-year-old girl with long brown hair, hurriedly made her way towards the train's last corridor. Her enthusiasm was overshadowing how disliked the person she inquired about was in the area where red and gold colours prevailed. Upon reaching one of the final compartments, the girl let out a deep breath and gently tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear.
Before that moment, Layla had never boarded the Hogwarts Express, nor had she studied at that school, and rumours circulated that she was searching for a long-lost family member.
And so, overwhelmed by emotion and forgetting to knock, Layla hastened to unlatch the final door of the last cabin in that corridor, which, inexplicably, exuded an aura of tranquillity and darkness, unlike the previous compartments. As the door swung open, four sets of bewildered eyes fixated on her in sheer astonishment.
"Is... is Tom Riddle here?" she asked in a single breath.
And she didn't need to hear any response because her gaze met her very own eyes.
"Tom?" she murmured in a choked whisper, as he examined her with a mixture of indignation and arrogance. "Tom, I'm Layla, I'm your..."
The girl never finished that sentence, for Riddle swiftly stood up and enclosed the pendant that the stranger was wearing around her neck between his long, pale fingers. With a cryptic expression in his gaze and a sinister little smile, he asked her, "Do you have the faintest idea of what you're carrying around your neck?"
Layla knew perfectly well what it was, but something in the chilling look of that boy, who was undoubtedly her lost twin, deterred her from speaking any further. Perhaps leaving Ilvermorny and persuading her adoptive family to move back to England had been a terrible idea.
A few hours later, Layla was brought back to reality by the giggles of the students at the four House tables. She had been staring blankly at the enchanted ceiling, unaware that a red-bearded wizard, Professor Dumbledore, had called her several times to approach and wear the Sorting Hat. In their exchange of letters, Dumbledore had warned her that if she ever transferred to Hogwarts, she would have to attend the Sorting Ceremony on the first day of school. So, with hundreds of eyes focused on her, the girl found herself sitting on the wooden stool with the Sorting Hat comically falling over her eyes. A muffled chatter rose from the crowd.
"A Wampus!" exclaimed the Sorting Hat, taken aback. "Brave, resourceful, loyal, combative," it listed in a low voice. "I can say with certainty that your heart belongs to Godric's House," it added, "although, in your blood, I see something else..." it continued with a thoughtful tone.
The girl missed the rest of the speech. She hadn't anticipated that the Sorting Hat might place her in a House other than Slytherin. A knot in her stomach reminded her of the reason for her transfer to Hogwarts. Being sorted into Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw would complicate everything. She focused on the last thing she saw before the Sorting Hat blocked her view: Tom's eyes, staring at her inquisitively from the Slytherin table. She had crossed the ocean to meet her brother. Although their encounter on the train had left her utterly unsettled, the sacrifices made by her adoptive family to allow her to reach that point filled her with determination.
"Please, I need to be sorted into Slytherin," she whispered desperately in a low voice.
"Are you sure?" the Sorting Hat asked hesitantly. "I see your heart, Layla Colby, and I fear you won't feel at ease in Slytherin," it explained.
"I am a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin in," she insisted resolutely. The Sorting Hat seemed to hesitate for a minute or two. Finally, it boomed, "SLYTHERIN!"
Half-hearted applause greeted her from the green and silver table. Tom and his gang didn't bother to applaud; in fact, they gave her creepy looks. They were all cloaked in an aura of superiority, with raised chins, rigidly straight backs, venomous irises, and smugly curled lips. Their demeanour reminded her of Mik and Teddy. Her heart skipped a beat when her mind focused on Mik's face, her best friend. Leaving behind their friendship was just another thing she had to do by moving to England. On the other hand, the thousands of kilometres between her and Teddy seemed like the only positive aspect of the situation.
After glancing back at her brother and his friends, Layla instinctively grasped the medallion hanging around her neck, Salazar Slytherin's heirloom from which, according to her research, her maternal family descended. She quickly tucked it inside her shirt collar, determined not to let Tom rip it away from her neck as he had tried to do on the train.
Fortunately, thanks to the rigorous physical training as a Wampus, which had made her more agile and quick over the years, she had managed to escape his grasp. His friends had chased after her, but for some reason, they had turned back after a few meters. Layla was certain she had seen one of them clutching his left forearm spasmodically just before disappearing.
When Layla took a seat next to two brunettes, one of whom gave her a hostile glare that rivalled Tom and his friends, many other Slytherins curiously observed her.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," Headmaster Armando Dippet spoke. "As many of you may have noticed, we have a new student," he continued, gesturing towards the green and silver table. Layla once again found herself under the scrutiny of hundreds of students; she didn't enjoy being in the limelight, but she managed a hesitant smile. She didn't look at him, but she felt the weight of Tom's inquisitive gaze. "She transferred from Ilvermorny -some students from other Houses stood up from their seats and craned their necks to get a better look - and she will be with us until the end of her schooling. Treat her with respect, and..." Layla never knew what else Dippet added to his speech because, as if drawn by a magnetic force, her eyes locked onto Tom. A furrow of inquiry appeared on his forehead, and his expression became even darker. The lack of control over the situation seemed to have made him furious. It was evident that a thousand ideas and explanations were whirling in his mind, and even more evident was the fact that he held her responsible for the confusion that engulfed him.
After dinner, Layla arrived in front of the Transfiguration classroom, escorted by Melania Parkinson, a kind girl from Slytherin who had offered to accompany her.
When the two bid farewell, Professor Dumbledore greeted her with a big smile. They had never met before, but she had seen his image in the textbooks from Ilvermorny. He gave her the impression of being a very kind and wise man.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Colby. I hope you enjoyed the feast," Dumbledore said cheerfully, peering over his half-moon glasses.
"Certainly, sir, it was all delicious," she replied, smiling politely.
"I had Tom called here, I trust you haven't had a chance to speak to him?" the wizard asked, raising an eyebrow. Layla looked down and shook her head. "I suspected as much, I noticed you weren't sitting close to each other during dinner," the professor explained calmly. Then, Dumbledore raised his index finger and pointed towards the door. At that very moment, someone knocked.
"Come in," said the wizard. And Tom Riddle entered the room. His eyes quickly moved from Dumbledore to the unknown girl a couple of times.
"Professor, did you summon me?" asked the Slytherin, with such calmness in his voice and demeanour that it elicited a faint mocking laugh from Layla. With that attitude, he didn't seem to be the same boy she had met on the train and who had pierced her with his gaze during the banquet. Layla's reaction didn't escape the twin, who looked at her with his usual hostility for a moment.
"Take a seat," said Dumbledore. The witch obeyed immediately, while Tom executed the order with a slowness that Layla understood as reluctance. Clearly, taking orders was another thing that didn't seem to sit well with her brother. She wondered if Dumbledore had also glimpsed the true essence of that conduct.
"Tom, this young lady wrote me a letter over five months ago, asking for information about your orphanage," said the professor in a confidential tone. "Her Muggle parents," Tom's jaw clenched for a moment, "are her adoptive parents and her real last name is Riddle. I looked into the matter, and I can confirm, Tom, that Layla is your sister, your twin." Upon hearing those words, Tom turned slowly towards her. His placid expression changed to enigmatic. Layla thought that something in Tom's gaze betrayed his lack of trust in the words of the wizard sitting in front of him. The boy seemed to think that Dumbledore had finally lost his mind, and Layla had the strange certainty that he would soon burst out into laughter. But then, as if following the script of a play, his features softened again, and to Layla's great surprise, the Slytherin smiled sweetly.
"Professor, I hope you don't judge my need for evidence..." he began calmly. Layla felt a slight pang in her stomach; the fact that he didn't believe what had been said disappointed her. She had left a whole life behind, and he needed proof. As if she and Dumbledore had nothing better to do than make fun of orphans for amusement.
"I will need two drops of your blood, one here and one here," the professor said in a composed and entirely prepared tone as if the request from the boy hadn't caught him off guard at all. He waited for both to approach, each taking their own time, and let themselves be pricked on the index finger. A momentary reluctance crossed Riddle again as if losing a drop of his blood was an insult to his person. Again, Dumbledore seemed not to notice.
Dumbledore pointed his wand at the white marble tablet adorned with two distant, dark, red dots. "You both know how the spell works," Layla nodded absentmindedly, while Tom narrowed his eyes.
"Sanguinem non Mentior!" the professor finally pronounced. The two drops of blood merged into a single red blotch, which burned and transformed into small green sparks. Riddle got up from the armchair and shook his head in disbelief. Layla looked at him gloomily.
"Blood never lies," Dumbledore whispered, looking at Riddle with some hesitation and dark curiosity. Almost as if sensing the wizard's judgment, Riddle underwent yet another metamorphosis. The Slytherin looked once again at his sister and smiled.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Layla," the boy said softly, offering his hand. Layla observed those pale fingers for a few seconds and thought that their first encounter on the train should have started with that handshake. She got up and shook his hand in return. It didn't surprise her that his hand was cold, and she mentally smiled, thinking that the coldness seemed to be the only consistent thing about their meeting. She looked into his eyes, so identical to hers, and a sense of hostility pervaded her because, of course, she didn't believe in the authenticity of that handshake or his artificial smile. As if he had read her thoughts, Tom Riddle took a step forward and hugged her. The contact was so warm and welcoming compared to before that Layla felt her cheeks flush. She wanted to be rational at that moment, but the warmth she felt in her chest made her indifferent to her conscience. She swore that she had never received a more comforting hug in her entire life. The strength with which he held her felt as if Tom had spent sixteen years wishing for nothing more than to hold her in his arms. She thought, in the end, that maybe she had judged him too quickly and hugged him back.
After minutes that felt like hours, Dumbledore amiably said, "It's time to go to bed. I know you have a lot to talk about, but I want you fresh for tomorrow's classes." He dismissed them.
As they left the office, Layla had the feeling that Dumbledore was anything but happy about that encounter, but with her chest on fire, her head in the clouds, and her gaze blurred with joy, she didn't dwell on that detail. On the contrary, she tried to quicken her pace to keep up with Tom's hyperactive pace.
"Tom, you have no idea how many things I have to tell you..." she started, catching up to him. However, the Slytherin never finished that sentence because, as they turned the corner, Tom slammed her forcefully against the wall, covered her mouth with his hand, and hissed, "You. Must. Stay. Away. From. Me."
"Don't cry," Layla thought, looking at her brother's furious face so close to hers.
"Don't cry," she thought again as her back began to ache from the impact.
"Don't cry," she repeated, realizing how much she had sacrificed to find him.
Layla hated herself when her hot tears brushed against Tom's hand. The Slytherin, with a disgusted twist of his mouth, wiped his hand on his uniform. And before walking away, he cast her one last look full of resentment. With red eyes and irregular breathing, Layla stood still, gazing at him as he walked away.
AN:
Hello everyone! I'm excited to share with you a fan fiction project that I've dedicated months to developing. Finally, I can confidently say that I have a complete picture of the plot. And luckily, I have already written 20 chapters in the original language, and I'm planning to translate them all as soon as possible.
THE SERIOUS NOTE
Please, be aware that this fan fiction includes sensitive themes such as incest, rape, non-consensual situations, and abortion. If these topics make you uncomfortable, I want to warn beforehand, and give the chance to click that 'back' button.
(MY) CHOSEN FAN CAST
Tom Riddle: Louis Partridge.
Ok. Let's talk about Louis Partridge. I understand that some of you might initially be skeptical, thinking, 'Louis, are you serious?' However, after giving it some thought, I've come to appreciate the idea. While Coulson and Dillane never quite resonated with me as Riddle, and I once believed that Tom Sturridge in 'Like Minds' would be the perfect fit, my perception shifted recently. I happened to spot Louis on a flight, and I couldn't help but notice how much he resembles the image of Tom Riddle as described by J.K. Rowling. While I also admire Hughes, I find it easier to envision him as the more mature version of Riddle. Additionally, the limited material available online of Hughes as a teenager further solidifies my inclination toward Louis Partridge as a potential choice. Obviously, feel absolutely free to envision Riddle portrayed by the actor of your choice, be it Coulson, Dillane, Sturridge, or Hughes. As Neil Gaiman said: "free thinking is the key to unlocking the shackles of conformity."
Layla Colby: Kaya Scodelario (with dark eyes). Layla and Tom are dizygotic twins, and the eyes are the only thing they have in common.
Abraxas Malfoy: Dane DeHaan (as seen in 'Kill Your Darlings')
Dian Rosier: Gaspard Ulliel (as seen in 'Hannibal Rising'). He is meant to be Evan Rosier's pops, and I've chosen the name Dian because it's the male variation of Diana, who was, in Roman mythology, the goddess of the hunt. I believe this name perfectly suits the essence of this character.
Wotan Avery: Will Poulter. He is intended to be Avery II's father, and I've opted for the name Wotan because it's a variation of Odin, the god of war.
Walburga Black: Emma Roberts (with dark hair)
Druella Rosier: Nathalie Emmanuel
Ace Mulciber: Freddy Carter
Artem Nott: Lorenzo Zurzolo
Violet Lovegood: Elle Fanning
Melania Parkinson: Emma Stone
Nat Horvat: Anya Taylor-Joy
Tilly Somerset: Nicola Coughlan
Teddy Collymore: Cameron Monaghan
Mik Baron: Timothée Chalamet
Katya Marković: Claire Holt
Charlus Potter: Noah Centineo
Septimus Weasley: Eddie Redmayne
Harmonia Figg: Lily Collins
THE LEGAL PART
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters. The Harry Potter series was created by JK Rowling and is owned by Warner Bros. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment purposes only, and I am not making any profit from this story. All rights to the original Harry Potter story belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I only own the rights to my original characters.
this story is available on AO3 and Wattpad by sonnydover