Summary: 91 years later, after the treacherous birth of the all-evil Tom M. Riddle (Voldemort), it is discovered that there was another child born the same day, by the same blood, a twin. Atticus Morfin Riddle was taken in 1926; he discovers his dark bloodline as he grows. He faces challenges and struggles in his name and the people begin to worry which path the blood heir will go down.
December 31st, 1926
A horrifying shriek blutters from the weak lips of a crippled woman lying on a tattered sofa. She wore a grey dress covered in blood, and her hair was doused in sweat.
"Please, Merope, please! One more push, darling, you're nearly there."
Firelight dimmed the pained face of the woman in labour, revealing the cuts and marks scattered across her skin. She sighed heavily before urging again with all her might; she screamed and yelled, gripping the sofa's edge. Her nails dug in until a release. A small figure came from in between her legs. The man comforting her quickly wrapped the baby in a blanket and then handed the child to her.
"It's a boy, Merope. You did it." The man smiled, petting her hair.
"Tom. Tom Marvolo. A-after my love and after my father." She smiled weakly, tears beginning to stream down her face. "Tom Marvolo Riddle."
The night became cold and weary; Merope, not knowing she had just given birth to one of the most evil wizards in the world, comforted the small child.
"Let me clean him, Merope. He needs to be clean," The man muttered happily, taking the child away.
Merope was pleased to be out of the pain at last, and she watched weakly as the man turned the tap to the water in the kitchen. A sharp pain interrupted her much-needed break. She grabbed onto the stomach, groaning at the discomfort. She wailed, feeling the need to push once more. It took little to no effort in her to push out the pain. She heard a small thud as her unexpected second child fell from her legs. Merope struggled to manage to see the child on the floor. She collapsed before she could call out the man's name in distress, feeling the life drain from her body until her heart beat the last pulse.
"Merope, he's all ready for his mother now." The man scuffled into the sitting room, only to be shocked at the scene before him. As tears well in his eyes, he came to the late mother's side, checking for any signs of life. To the world, Merop Riddle died giving birth to her only child, Tom Marvolo Riddle. However, the secret lie that she died giving birth to her second child, who was yet to be revealed.
August 31st, 2016
The clock bell for supper rang outside the orphanage. I watched as groups of boys and girls made their way up the stone steps and through the heavy, double wooden doors. I reluctantly followed, unhappy at the forced socialisation Ms Marie put us in.
"Gather round children and sit where you can find a plate. Remember not to dig in until everyone is present at the table." Miss Marie, the matron, a young woman in her twenties, wore blue jeans and a white cardigan, and, like always, she held a clipboard and put a pen in her hair.
Not feeling hungry, I grabbed my backpack and sketchbook and approached the stairs.
"Atticus. Where are you going, darling?" Miss Marie's soft voice caught me off guard. Miss Marie was always kind, and the children here appreciated that.
"I'm not hungry." I stubbornly said, avoiding eye contact with the Matron.
"Atticus, this is the fourth time you have skipped meals this week. Are you sure everything is alright?" She brought her small hand onto my shoulder. As much as I craved affection, lately, I have been neglecting it, feeling as if I don't deserve such a thing.
"Yes, I am fine." I shrugged my shoulder away, allowing her hand to drop to her side.
I turned and dashed up the stairs, feeling the eyes of the other children in the dining room watching me as I left. I marched down the hall, head down, staring at the dirty floor. I never much appreciated the orphanage I was in. The bathrooms were disgusting, the food was consistent, and the other children bullied me. Many privileges that normal children had were not granted to us, and everything here was by age. I always found that absolutely ridiculous. Wool's orphanage had always been strict about rules. Mr Adams ensured that every direction was posted in the building, on bathroom stalls, doors, walls, bulletin boards, and almost any empty surface. I found it humorous how the children would band together every few times a week and make it a game to see how many rule posters they could take down. Surprisingly, they were never caught.
As I walked to my room, I was annoyed to see that Mr Adams had posted yet another rule poster. This time, on my dorm room.
"Really." I swiped the paper down and swung open the old wooden door. My room was small, but I loved it. I shared it with one other person, a boy named Pattrick Maisley, and he was among the few people in his sickening place that I enjoyed. He and Greta Leiser were my only friends. They were both over a year older than me and would hang out in our room on the weekends and after school hours. Greta Leiser lived on the other side of the orphanage where the girls stayed. Bummer I don't get to see her that often.
I hopped onto my bed, staring at my ceiling, waiting for supper to end. After supper came study time, where the children could have an hour of quiet homework. I was waiting for Pattrick and Greta to go into my room. I waited patiently, fighting my eyelids to stay open, when I heard the old door creak open. I sat up, and Greta and Pattrick walked in, laughing at each other. Seeing them together now, I realise that Greta and Patty look alike. Patty had dark blonde hair, while Greta had blonde hair. They were both born with freckles on their face and about the same height. Perhaps they were secret siblings from the same mother. However, Greta's green eyes and Patty's hazel ones would not suffice. I always wonder if I ever had a secret sibling…out there. Somewhere.
"Hey, mate. What have you been up to." Patty took a pillow off his chair and chucked it at me from across the room. Greta resumed her usual position on the bed and gave me a look.
"We noticed you didn't join the table today. Again." Her face looked worried and motherish, as if she were trying to big-sister me.
"I wasn't hungry–"
"So when will you be? It's been a few days now, Atty." Patty said, taking a piece of chocolate from our secret candy stash.
"I told you I don't like that nickname, Patt." I sighed, reaching for my sketchbook. I was already caught up on this week's and next week's homework. Study time = free time.
"Alright, alright. What about Morfin?" Patty asked with a chuckle.
I chucked the pillow he threw at me right back at his dark blonde hair. "Oh, be quiet, Patt, that name is worse. Whoever my parents were, they had a serious lack of naming skills. I mean, who names their son Atticus? With a middle name called Morfin?" I said, thinking hard.
"Perhaps those names mean something. You know…to the family tree."
"Meant something." I correct. Feeling a rush of sadness draw over me. I was told that my parents were dead. However, I won't ever believe it.
We were all startled when a knock came at the door. "Pattrick. Patrick? Mr Maisley?"
"Yes, yes, I am coming." He replied, jumping from his swivel chair. He opened the door, and Miss Marie and Mr Adams stood outside, looking down at him.
"Mr Maisley, please follow us downstairs," Mr Adams said with a merry voice.
"A-alright. I guess I will be back, you guys." Patrick said before closing the door. I sure hoped that Patty meant what he said. He would come back. Right?
Greta and I glanced at each other, and we must have been thinking the same thing because we both jumped up and ran for the door.
"Do you think Patty's going to get adopted?" Greta whispered while cracking the door ever so slightly.
"I dunno, perhaps."
We both crept down the corridor, reaching the old, creaky stairwell. It overlooked the eating room and sitting room. As we peeked down below, we could see Patty, Ms Marie and Mr Adams all greeting an old lady. She had saggy skin wore a dark green dress, and a black robe. Her hair was almost entirely grey, and looked as if she needed to retire.
"Why would an elderly lady want to adopt an eleven-year-old boy? Seems unreasonable, right?" Greta asked quietly.
I tried not to think about adoption, or Patty being adopted in that case. We all promised to be adopted together and to live together one day in a big house in Wales. It's sad how dreams never become true.
The old lady talked to Pattrick and the Matrons for about an hour. Their words could not reach our ears; however, the surprised looks and expressions Pattrick had told us so little. After the talk was over, Pattrick ran upstairs back upstairs. Greta and I hid, just in case the adults saw us. Pattrick knew we were hiding. He came over, pulled Greta's arms and beckoned me to follow him. Before Greta could say anything, the two were already down the hall. I stood up, about to follow, when I glanced at the adults. Miss Marie and Mr Brown were gone, and the older women remained. She stood silently, giving me a suspicious/ curious look. I returned her facial expression and shortly followed Pattrick and Greta to my room.
As I opened the door, Greta was in tears, hugging Pattrick, who was grinning as if he had won the lottery.
"What is it?" I asked, brushing my short black curls from my eyes. "What happened?"
I stared at them, impatient for a response.
"I am going to a boarding school Atticus. A special one, the headmaster said." Patrick looked at me with reassuring eyes.
"G-going away? Where? When? Why?" The questions came out like wildfire. I stepped forward, desperate for an answer. This was all too soon, too sudden. Pattrick and I were like brothers. I feel he and Greta are the only ones able to get me out of the dark sometimes. What am I without the light?
"I'm leaving tomorrow. The headmaster said that my parents went to this school and put it in their will to make me go as well." He grinned. Pattrick loved talking about his parents. That's mainly because he had parents to talk about. They tragically died in a housefire when Patty was four, leaving him and his older brother, ten years older than him, to survive.
"Tomorrow?" I grimaced, trying to hide the tears. "A-a boarding school? Will you be coming back?"
"I will. Summers only, and holidays if I wanted to." He replied cheerfully. I was angry at how happy and calm he was. Doesn't he understand that Greta and I will suffer without him?
"Oh, well, I hope you decide to come for the holidays, Patty." Greta wiped her face, backing away from the long embrace she had been in.
"Of course, Greta!" He hushed.
Things were going to change, and I don't know if I was okay with that.
"Hey Atty-piss!" A voice called from behind the stairs. I turned, looking for the brat, when a sack hit my face. It was covered in mud, and it had a bunch of wooden blocks in it. I let out a yelp as I fell back. Hearing them laugh made me feel humiliated and angry. My face heated up from the impact of the blocks, and the anger began to fume in my head.
"You such a jerk, Billy Nash!" I yelled, looking up at the group of kids. They weren't orphans; however, they went to Bilford Prep, one of London's wealthier schools. They would typically sit outside our school and wait for us to leave before throwing rocks at our heads. Pattrick would always defend me from the rich kids, but Pattrick was not here.
"Oh yeah, and what exactly will you do about it?" The tallest one asked. He began to take photos of my muddied body and bruised face with his new iPhone 14.
I panted, watching him bully me. My head began to spin, and so did the objects around me. The tile on the ground started to shutter, the rubbish bin on the street began to swirl, and the clothes on the boys started to move and twist in several directions.
"What the?" Billy said, his body began to float, along with the other kids in his gang. "What the fuck are you doing, you freak!?" their ties turned into bows wrapped around their head. I watched their trousers fold into skirts and uniform jackets fly into the rubbish bins.
Before I could understand what was happening, I decided I did not want to stick around until Billy and his friends stopped floating in the air. I ran down the street to Wool's Orphanage, and I didn't stop until I was safely in my room, which was now empty on one side. That was weird; however, strange things happen every day, and this was not the first time something like this happened.
