Author note: Heyah! My first fic here on Fanfiction, I'm excited to start here! Sorry if anything seems a little strangely worded, english is not my first language, but I hope you enjoy.

I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.

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Emilly Riddle knew she was different. Being a witch born with strong magic, she knew she was special. Being born to the worst Dark Lord in British history, she knew she was feared. Being smarter than her peers, she knew she had advantages.

Emilly, being raised in an orphanage, just like her father, was surprised when an old man called Slughorn came to her room on her eleventh birthday to tell her she is a witch. Learning quickly that people would hate and mistrust her for who her father was, she knew that she could only rely on herself. Her hunger for knowledge almost landed her in Ravenclaw, but her ambition to be completely her own woman made her a Slytherin.

With her parentage, she was basically a celebrity in the snake pit; everyone wanted to ask about the ethereal, dark magicks her father left her. The second they learned that she was basically a 'mudblood', the music changed quickly. Ignoring her was common, which served her well, sneers and malicious smirks were ignored by her. She may be ignorant, but she wasn't weak. The third day at Hogwarts cemented that in the minds of the Slytherin house when a fourth-year got a little too big for his britches, thinking he could touch her. She made sure he could not touch anyone with that hand no more, making a clear example.

"Don't mess with Riddle" Quickly spread through the school. Slughorn was not happy, but he also did not punish her. She learned that the man was a pushover that night. When she finally returned to her common room, everyone gave her a wide berth, fearful of her power. She slept smiling that night.

The first year was tumultuous. Learning everything about the history of the magic world that she found herself in was very time-consuming. She knew that knowledge is power, and she understood why her father used the purebloods as puppets for power. It was her best bet for a theory on why a half-blood would lead a blood purist war—a war that ended in stalemate when both leaders, Albus Dumbledore and Voldemort, died fighting each other.

She did not care about blood, but she cared for power and usefulness. Most people were useless to her, so she treated them as such. As she learned more and more magic, she knew she was stronger than any other first-year. She still tried to be charismatic to other houses, but she knew she could never show weakness.

When she was on the train for her return trip to the orphanage, she was already making plans for her second year at Hogwarts. Making allies was not a priority in the early years; it was much more important to project the image of a strong, immutable witch. After her fourth year, she would start to collect her treasures. Like a dragon, she would hoard the best to serve her.

The second year was just as chaotic, but for different reasons. She had easily scored first place in classes last year, sparking the animosity of her peers. Not that it mattered, as she put them in their place quickly. Finding books in the Slytherin vault was useful to dispel any rumors of her not being the daughter of the Dark Lord. Being a parseltongue was more than useful to taunt and put fear in her detractors. It was more fun when she would whisper randomly, making everyone in the common room shiver.

Learning more and more magic, she knew that her time was not enough. So she needed to choose what to focus on. While dark magic was interesting and called to her, it was much more focused on brute force. She preferred soft powers, so learning runes and mind magics were obvious choices. Runes to protect herself and make rituals to increase her power, and the mind magicks to protect her mind and manipulate others. With this, the second year passed quickly.

Soon, her third year comes, where her plans start. Emilly was feared but not admired in Slytherin, so she had to slowly change her image. Working with younger years, giving them tips and helping them for favors. Helping older years with money and potions, where she was better than most O.W.L.S students. Favors and money open a lot of doors, so she, a year earlier than expected, was already the Queen of the Slytherin house.

But not everything was perfect; a first-year year called her attention—someone too strange to be in Slytherin, so patient and kind that Helga Hufflepuff would be proud. The little saint, Harry Potter.