Vendetta

Vendetta

The world around me had never made much sense, but I've managed. When I was five, my mother died. Sadly I don't remember much about her, I can't even be sure of how she died. I can't ask my father, because I've never met him. He left shortly before I was born, and he's never showed his face since. The only thing I know about him for sure is his name, but only his first name. Tom. And I only know that because of a note I found in my mom's sock drawer when I was five. It was the night she died, and one would say that since then I've been hell-bent on one thing.

Vengeance.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter 1 - Square One

Her toes were tingling when she woke up. Never a good sign. Strange things happened when her toes were tingling, sometimes dangerous, strange things. Things moved, things made sounds, and sometimes things even blew up.

She looked around the room almost frantically. Most everything was in it's place, except for the alarm clock, which she'd knocked off it's stand during the night. She sat up and got out of bed, trying to make as little noise as possible.

"Ciaran!"

She stopped mid step and ran a hand through her tangled, long brown hair. Not good. "Yeah?"

"I'm off to work, keep yourself in line!"

She sighed and continued walking towards the closet, not feeling the need to respond. If Bianca really wanted an answer she'd come up and find one. Ciaran pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, preparing for school, which no one around her had bothered to notice started today. Not that she minded. As far as Ciaran was concerned if the Thompson´s stayed out of her way, she'd stay out of theirs.

A ringing filled the two story house and Ciaran sprinted down the stairs. Panting slightly she picked up the phone and made sure Bianca had left. "Hello?"

"Ci?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, wow, didn't sound like you."

Ciaran rolled her eyes. Her best friend Jaelyn could be a ditz when she wanted to. "So are you picking me up?"

"Yeah, just called to make sure you were up."

"Up and dressed."

"Alright, see you in a few minutes."

"Alright, bye." She hung up the phone and went back upstairs. Stuffing various things into a tattered messenger bag, Ciaran looked around her room. Not seeing anything else that looked like it would be of any importance, she left the room. "Hey Calypso," she said, scooping her yellow lab puppy, whom she rescued from under the porch and the Thompson´s had actually let her keep, into her arms. She scratched him behind the ears and dropped her bag on the kitchen table.

A honking from the driveway made Ciaran drop the dog back on the floor and grab her bag. When Jae said she was on her way, she meant it. "Did you call from the car?"

Jae shook her blonde head and backed out of the driveway. "No, I just drive fast."

Ciaran snorted as they drove to the only high school in the span of three towns, where she and Jae had gone to school for most of their lives, except for those 4 years before they moved up. "Yeah you do."

Learning from experience, Ciaran had always been extremely careful with who she trusted. Her mother had died of mysterious causes when she was five, she had a father somewhere that she'd never met, and she lived with a foster family that was fair enough, but never treated her as a daughter. Needless to say, she didn't have many reasons to be the one who loved everyone.

So when she was called to the office during 4th period, she was a little wary of what they'd want. She knocked on the doorframe and stuck her head in. "You wanted to see me?"

Principal Franks looked up and nodded for her to come in. "Yes, there's someone here to speak to you."

She noticed the man sitting in one of the hard, cold school chairs for the first time. She didn't get that pull in her stomach, the one that told her to be careful. Actually it was just the opposite, and she felt like she could trust this man. That worried her even more. "Uh, hi."

The man stood up and Ciaran couldn't help but be amazed by him. His silver hair and beard were longer than any person's hair she'd ever seen, and his blue eyes twinkled behind half moon shaped glasses. Just by looking at him she could tell that this man had been around the block a few times and time had served him well, even if he did look his age. "Hello Ciaran. I was wondering if I could have a word with you -" He glanced sideways at Franks. "-alone?"

Ciaran nodded slowly. "Of course Uncle Richard," she said slowly, smiling nervously at Franks. "I'm sure that would be fine."

The man nodded, and didn't seem phased by her lie. "Alright then."

Ciaran led him out into the hall, and then outside onto the front steps. This man was British, and something about him made her think that he was important. "So, um...could I know your name?"

"That should probably be the first step, shouldn't it. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He watched for a reaction and wasn't in the least surprised when he didn't get one. He'd known that Ciaran was smarter than she appeared, and that she wouldn't just believe him. He'd have to prove it. "Would you like me to show you some proof?"

Ciaran folded her arms over her chest and studied him. "Yeah, yeah I would. What you're saying is completely impossible. Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

Dumbledore pulled a long stick out of his pocket, and with a flick of his wrist and a muttered word that Ciaran didn't quite catch, there was a rabbit sitting at her feet. Dumbledore shrugged a little to himself. "Not all that original, but convincing nonetheless."

Ciaran picked up the rabbit and then looked at Dumbledore, still a little weary but it was an automatic thing. "Abigattire," she whispered, looking back up at him. "Um...I believe you, I think..."

He smiled slightly, more with his eyes than his mouth and made the rabbit disappear. "Good. Now, I was wondering if you could do something for me?"

"What?"

He held up his left arm and flicked his wrist like he'd done with the wand a moment earlier. "Do that."

Ciaran copied the movement and jumped when a flower fell to her feet. "What the -"

"That would be what I thought."

"Uh...I think an explanation is what I need right now."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes...You do not need a wand to do magic, you can direct it with your mind and emotions, which may or may not be a good thing."

Ciaran opened her mouth to say something, closed it and then said it anyway. "Um...is that normal, for someone who can do magic? For them not to need a wand?"

He didn't answer immediately. "No...but for you it fits."

"Why? I mean, why am I so special? Especially when I didn't even know that I was...magical doesn't fit, but that I could do magic?"

Something twinkled in Dumbledore's light blue eyes and Ciaran knew he wasn't going to tell her. "Some lessons people teach you, and some you stumble upon at the strangest of times."

Ciaran nodded to herself and looked at the sky. "I have a feeling it'd be best if I learned that fast."

* * *

Ciaran scratched Calypso behind the ears and looked at Dumbledore as they walked through the crowded airport. "Don't you think the Thompson´s will be worried when I don't come home and all my stuff's gone?"

"I left them a note."

She felt her eyes widen slightly, as if a note would explain why their foster daughter was suddenly no where to be found. Out of the country even. Convincing Ciaran to go to Hogwarts was no easy feat. She'd caved, and agreed that she did have some magic in her, but only after she conjured 12 more flowers, her backpack and Calypso himself. But getting her to leave the country, and go to a school where she didn't think she belonged, that was something else. "You left them a note? Saying what? 'Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, don't worry your daughter is perfectly safe, she'll be in England, learning magic and other talents that go along with it.' No, I don't think that would fly with them."

Dumbledore looked at her while she wasn't looking and noted her insanely blue eyes. "I'll just have to modify their memories a bit, and it won't be a problem."

Ciaran looked back at him, alarm in her eyes. "Can you do that?"

He smiled a little. "Maybe."

Ciaran went back to looking out the window. She didn't want to think about what he could do, something about him said power, in a subtle way of course. She didn't want to get on his bad side, and since that was one of her specialties, she figured she might want to learn to think before she spoke. "What time does the plane leave?"

"In 10 minutes, they should be calling us on."

"Do wizards travel by plane often?"

"No. Usually we just Apparate, but since you under aged and have not passed the test, you can't do that."

Ciaran nodded but realized that she was far behind everyone else in the year she'd be in when she got to Hogwarts. She didn't know spells, she didn't know how they traveled, and she didn't know anybody. She was already set aside from everyone because she didn't need to use a wand. She didn't want to think about the other ways that she was different. "What's it mean to Apparate?"

"It's when you are in one place, then you're in another, basically. There's a lot more to it then that, but it's complicated, so I'm not going to go into it."

* * *

When they stepped off the plane, Ciaran felt like she hadn't walked in a month, and the only thing she wanted was to find Calypso and her luggage and to sleep. But Dumbledore wasn't having any of that, because he'd told her that they needed to hurry if she wanted to be at the Sorting. Then he'd explained the four houses, and how the Sorting Ceremony worked. She'd thought it was all very interesting, but she was only half listening. She was more interested in the feast he mentioned, she hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch.

"So you're saying that they put a hat on my head, and it says which house I'd be good in?"

"Yes."

"Okay, that's a little strange, but okay."

"Yes, it is different the first time, but you get used to it after a while."

Ciaran, taking what he said the wrong way, made a face. "Do you have to do this every year?"

Dumbledore laughed. "Oh, no, no. But you watch it every year, and it gets less strange every time."

Ciaran's stomach rolled over. In front of everyone? There were a lot of things she could do, but standing up in front of everyone and doing, well, anything wasn't one of them.

* * *

The first thing he noticed when he walked into the great hall was that Professor Dumbledore wasn't there. Looking around he saw that the rest of the teachers were there, except McGonagall who was with the first years in the entry way. He nudged Ron. "Ron, Dumbledore's not here."

Ron looked around and then elbowed Hermione. "Hermione -"

She rolled her eyes and nodded. "I know, I heard, I'm sitting right here."

"But don't you think it's weird?"

She nodded. "Yes, shouldn't the Headmaster be at the Sorting?"

Ron nodded too. "Isn't that like, a rule?"

Harry thought for a second, or tried to but he was interrupted when the Great Hall doors where opened and the first years started filing in. He was surprised when he saw a brown haired girl at the end of the line who couldn't possibly have been a first year. His first thought was that she was intense looking, then he went so far to say that she looked almost threatening. Her insanely blue eyes took in everything around her, and her long black robes covered to her feet, but he could tell that she was an athlete. The way she carried herself. He looked at Ron when he felt an elbow in his side. "What?" he hissed, getting more attention then he'd been wishing for.

"Who's the tall girl?"

"I don't know," he said, speaking lower this time. "But she doesn't look friendly."

Hermione leaned over Ron's shoulder. "She'll probably be in Slytherin."

Harry didn't say anything, but when he looked across the room at Draco Malfoy, he couldn't help but disagree. Malfoy looked, if possible, afraid of the girl, like he knew her and didn't like her. Harry turned back to his friends and shook his head as the Sorting started.

Loads of first years were sorted, many going into Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and when McGonagall got to the older girl the hall was quiet. "Riddle, Ciaran."

Harry felt his eyes widen a little as the girl took her seat on the stool. Riddle. He'd only known one other person with that last name. Maybe she would go into Slytherin after all.

* * *

Ciaran cringed as the hat spoke into her ear. "Well, lets see...Riddle, my I haven't had one of you in a long while...seems like you'll be an easy one...wait, maybe not..." The hat was quiet for a little bit and Ciaran wondered if it was going to tell her that she was impossible to sort and that she'd have to go home. "You're not a thing like your father are you dear?..." Ciaran sat up straighter. What about her father? "Well, if you're not then I think it should be...Gryffindor!"

She stood and sat at the table to the right that broke out into applause. The Sorting wasn't as hard as she thought it'd be, but she had a strong urge to grab that hat off it's stool as the professor that had brought it in took it out. It knew something about her father, and she'd give anything to know what it was.

"Ciaran, welcome to Gryffindor, I'm Hermione Granger."

Ciaran looked at the brown haired girl to her left and nodded. "Hi."

Hermione looked surprised. "You're American."

"Yeah..." Another reason she was different.

The red haired boy next to Hermione stuck his hand around her. "Hello, I'm Ron Weasley."

Ciaran shook his hand. "Ciaran."

"I'm Harry Potter," a boy with messy black hair said, appearing from around Ron and shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you Ciaran."

She smiled slightly, but felt uneasy as she dropped his hand. "Likewise."

"What brings you here in fifth year?" Hermione asked, as Dumbledore stood up and shushed the hall.

Ciaran didn't answer, but instead looked at the Headmaster. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts, I hope this year is as good as previous ones...I have no announcements, no new rules, I would however like to stress that you cannot enter the Dark Forest." He looked around the hall and nodded. "The feast will now begin."

Ciaran tried not to look too surprised when the plates around her filled with food, and went along with everybody else and started filling her plate. Remembering that Hermione had asked her a question, she turned to look at her. "I came in fifth year because I found out about the whole witch thing in fifth year."

Hermione looked at her over the rim of her goblet. "Are you Muggle born?"

Ciaran reminded herself of what a Muggle was and shook her head. "Not according to Professor Dumbledore, he said that both of my parents were magic. My mom died when I was five, I've never met my dad, and my foster family are Muggles, so I've never really been exposed to magic before."

Ron and Harry looked down the table at her and it was Ron who spoke. "You have a very interesting last name, it's not a popular one, is it?"

Ciaran shook her head. "I've never met anyone else who has my last name, my mother even went by something different."

Hermione made a face. "You didn't have your mother's last name?"

Ciaran shook her head again. "And I'm not sure why either."

Harry put his fork down and studied her for a second. "Do you know your father's name?"

"Tom."

* * *

Harry felt like his stomach had been launched up into his throat. Tom, her father's name was Tom, and her last name was Riddle. Tom Riddle. He tried to slow his brain down by thinking of all the ways that it couldn't be the same Tom Riddle that he'd faced so many times before. She was American, after all. Voldemort had most definitely been British.

Ron turned to face Harry, is back to Ciaran and Hermione, a worried expression plastered on his freckled face. "You don't think?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it couldn't be...Could it?" He was struck suddenly by the image of Malfoy when he'd seen Ciaran. He'd looked frightened of her, and there was only one person Harry could think of that Malfoy would fear. Voldemort. Even with the ties his family had with the Dark Lord, and as much of a jerk that Malfoy was, Harry didn't seriously think that he was in cahoots with Voldemort. As much as he hated to admit it, even in his head, Harry had to say that Malfoy wasn't an idiot.

Hermione, who'd taken the news of Ciaran's father in stride, kept up a steady conversation, learning more about the girl who didn't look as evil as her, possible, bloodline said she should be. "So you're coming into Hogwarts 4 years behind your year?"

Ciaran nodded, looking almost pitiful about it. "Yeah."

Hermione grinned and sat up a little straighter. "Well, I can teach you some of the basics, if you want. That way you're not as far behind."

Ciaran's cerulean blue eyes lit up. "Really? Wow, that'd be great. I mean, going into the first class and not knowing how to do the simplest spell, wow I'd look like a loser."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, small smiles playing at their lips. They didn't know if she was evil or not, but one thing they were sure of was that she was American.