Riddle Child

xxjonibaby

Story Summary:
AU re-write of the Harry Potter series. What if Voldemort had a daughter? What if she was adopted by Severus Snape? As she gets older and attends Hogwarts, how will she keep her true parentage secret?

Chapter 01

Posted:
03/02/2008
Hits:
162


The small one-story cottage looked perfectly normal from the outside, even homely. The slightly crumbled stone wall surrounding the fairy-tale cottage, the over-flowing flower beds, and the slight sag in the roof seemed to enhance its appeal. The cottage was a cream color with an antique look to it that you would expect to see in a picture-book. The windows were round and framed by a light-colored oak that also made up the roof. The door itself was the best feature. It was a darker wood and had an image of a faerie carved into it. When you weren't looking directly at it, the faerie seemed to move. Overall, it was a very cozy-looking cottage. The inside was just as beautiful as the exterior, but there was something off about it. The cottage was a lot larger on the inside than it looked, with two extra floors including an attic, but the expansion was normal for a wizarding household. It was strange in this cottage, though, because it was a muggle location. Another strange thing was how perfect everything seemed. There wasn't a speck of dirt to be seen or a thing out of place. The most disturbing detail was that there was not one single photograph or personal item anywhere to be sought. The entire cottage was this way, except for the attic. The attic was dark, dusty, and crammed with boxes and old furniture. This was not unusual as far as attics go, but what was unusual was the small patch of cleared space in the corner. In this corner, a six-year-old girl slept on the unyielding wood floor, blanket-less and starving.

The girl was having a very good dream. She was surrounded by a golden haze and seemed to be floating. The golden haze felt warm to her and she didn't want to leave it. She could hear the soft hum of thousands of voices, blending together into a pleasant buzzing sound. She felt loved. Then she heard a God-awful sound: the creak of someone coming up the stairs. She tried to bury her head into the crook of her arm, which she'd been using as a pillow, but the dread that filled her pushed away any pleasantness of her dream. Each footstep made her flinch. She half-wished those feet would hurry up and come into view, just to end her anticipation. After what seemed like hours, she was staring at her mother's flat dress shoes. When she was kicked in the stomach, she was very happy her mother hadn't worn heels this time. She thanked Merlin and every deity for flat shoes, which left an even bruise and didn't feel like being stabbed the way heels did. After she was kicked and stepped on a good number of times, she was lifted roughly by the arm. She scrambled to support herself and her mother let go of her arm to grab her hair. Her head was jerked back and she was forced to look at her mother. Her mother was a short woman with a very full figure, slightly wavy jet-black hair, devil-red lips, and hazel eyes. She had high cheekbones and a sharp chin, but she looked like a lady despite her hard features and cruel eyes. There probably was nobility somewhere along her bloodline. She looked her mother straight in the eye and braced herself.

"You are an abomination and you know it," her mother hissed, "You are evil, just like He was. Look at you, you even look like Him! If it wasn't for you, I would be in the world I belong in! Not hiding out in this pathetic muggle one because of you! I tried to kill you the instant I found out I was pregnant! You were full of Dark Magick! Instead, I had to give birth to an evil thing. You don't deserve to call yourself human. You will never be a witch. They would kill you the moment they discovered what you were: the spawn of evil!" By now, her mother was screaming and it was very difficult not to cry. She didn't hear the rest of her mother's ranting. She was trying to figure out was she thought versus what her mother was telling her. She did look a lot like her father, but she had learned she could change that. She wasn't sure how she could change her appearance, but her mother reacted in a very violent way and now she only changed when she was alone. She liked the freedom of looking different. Her magic scared her sometimes. She knew about accidental magic because her mother had warned her not to let it happen, but it had and hers was stronger than she was comfortable with. She had done a lot of things with it: she had turned invisible at least twice, somehow ended up on the ceiling, and had healed herself once. She told herself that none of those were bad things and she could only be bad if she did bad things. Her mother had to be wrong. She wasn't evil. She could never convince herself that her mother was wrong about people killing her though. She was afraid that one was one hundred percent true.

Her mother's usual screaming session must've ended because she was suddenly thrown to the floor. Her whole body thrummed with pain. Previous injuries hadn't healed quite yet and every breath caused excruciating pain. She's felt worse though. At least this time none of her limbs were broken. She knew that she would face a worse beating in the evening, though, after her mother had too much wine. Or was she on vodka this week? Her mother always alternated alcohols. She usually stuck with fine wines, being something of a stuck-up, but recently she'd familiarized herself with all types of alcohol. She wished her mother would stick to those fruity little drinks that didn't seem as potent. Her mother was more dangerous drunk than sober, but she didn't show any outward signs of being drunk other than being more irrational and violent than usual. Occasionally her speech would slur, but she held her liquor pretty well. It did not help that she had a sobering potion. The potion would sharpen her awareness, but the side effect had her even more temperamental. It was these times that her mother would raise her wand against her. Her mother didn't usually use magic and she was unused to it.

She crawled back to her corner and fell into a fitful sleep.

She woke up the next morning immediately aware of the pain. Cracked ribs, at least two broken, a broken wrist, bruises from head to toe, cuts on her back (she was hit with a broken bottle), and a twisted ankle. Plus all of the stinging hexes she was hit with. Her mother usually used a spell to fix her broken bones after she'd suffered for a decent amount of time. Everything else had to heal on its own. She turned her head thinking she had heard something.

Her mother was on the stairs. This scared her. After a beating like this her mother would leave her alone for days. Her mother had no plans to leave her alone this time. After threatening to kill her so many times, her mother had really decided to kill her. For the fist time ever, her mother walked toward her with a butcher knife in one hand and her wand in the other. She pushed herself into a sitting position and tried to get up. She couldn't let herself be cornered. Her mother was almost all the way up the stairs when she managed to stand up. She forced her legs to move and just as her mother reached the top step, she started to run. She shoved her way past her mother with a force she didn't know she possessed. She made it to the second floor and ran for the next flight of stairs. Her mother was right behind her and caught up quickly. There was a sharp pain and she stopped running. She was bleeding from her shoulder. Her mother attacked full-force now. She was being hit with cutting hexes, stinging hexes, a very much illegal pain curse, and her mother was still digging into her shoulder with the butcher knife.

She was angry. It wasn't her fault! How could she ever let herself be hurt! She closed her eyes. She knew she was close to death now, but she didn't want to die. At least not here.

Suddenly she felt like she was being pressed in from all sides and she couldn't breathe. The feeling was over just as soon as it began. She thought she saw a magnificent castle before the ground came up to meet her and she knew no more.

Professor Snape was not a good man on any account. He had done horrible things. He had invented harmful spells and potions, Dark ones even, that were among the foulest in existence. He had taken the Dark Mark in his youth and he had killed on the Dark Lord's orders. Once upon a time, he had enjoyed it. He had turned to the light side in the end as spy, but that did not make him the good guy. He still intimidated everyone weaker than himself and then some. He enjoyed it. He was a sarcastic, unfeeling bastard who didn't give a damn about anyone other than himself. He was not nice.

This morning he was stalking the castle, scowl in place as he searched for any leaks in the castle's wards. He didn't expect to find any and was correct in that assumption. He was going to tell the Headmaster that he had better things to do than search for non-existent leaks in the ward or scouring for new hidden passages. He would also outright refuse to go on a blind date. Especially since Filch let it slip that they were trying to set him up with Trelawny. He'd have to send more students Filch's way for detentions to repay him. What the hell made that old coot think that he would have the slightest interest in that tacky fraud Trelawny? Hell, he didn't want to date anyone and they were going to leave him alone about it. He stomped angrily back toward the dungeons, but he only made it to the entrance hall.

"Professor!" Hagrid was running toward him now with something in his arms. Snape thought it was some God-forsaken creature Hagrid wanted to show him and started turning away. "Yeh have to do somethin'! This girl's injured 'ere!" That made him turn around.

Sure enough, in Hagrid's arms was a small and badly injured child. He stepped closer to get a better look. He could hardly see anything. She was covered in blood. The girl moaned. "She seems to be gaining consciousness." Snape had no sooner finished speaking when the girl opened her eyes. She suddenly reached out, grabbed his robes, and yanked herself out of Hagrid's arms. Snape caught her. "Go get Dumbledore! I'll take her to the hospital wing!" He tightened his grip and ran all the way there using every short-cut he knew. He kicked the doors open. "Poppy!" She came into view to chastise him and saw the child he was carrying.

"Oh Merlin! What happened to her, Severus? Quickly, lay her down!" He laid he down as gently as he could. She was unconscious again.

"I don't know. Hagrid found her. He's on his way with Dumbledore." She nodded and started to diagnose her patient, asking Snape to wash the blood off so she could see more of the damage.

The doors to the hospital wing opened and Dumbledore and Hagrid hurried to the girl's side. They could tell that the girl had been beaten, stabbed, and hexed. Poppy informed them that it was worse than that. There were old injuries that suggested she had been beaten regularly for a long time. She was also severely malnourished. The girl had escaped from an abusive home. Snape's heart wrenched when he heard that. Wait, he didn't have a heart. Dumbledore looked furious and sad at the same time. He'd worn that same expression when Snape had finally told him about his own home life.

"Will she live?" He was surprised to find himself asking that. He didn't care. He didn't even know her. Yet he felt relieved when Madame Pomfrey said she would be fine. Again he found himself asking another question that he told himself he didn't care about. "Who is she?" No one had an answer. "Where did she come from?"
"I saw her. She apparated righ' inside the grounds an' collapsed," Hagrid said.

"She's a child. She couldn't have apparated. Besides, it's impossible to apparate within Hogwarts grounds," Snape argued.

"Severus, it is possible she did." Dumbledore remarked amiably.

"How?" Dumbledore did not answer him, but he had a very thoughtful expression on his face.

When she woke up she thought she was dead. Then her eyes adjusted to the light and she realized she was in some kind of hospital. She had to get out of there. She got up slowly, still in a lot of pain, and made her way toward the doors. They opened before she could reach them and she panicked. It wasn't a muggle doctor who entered, but a man in robes; a wizard. He stood there and stared at her. She was sure he was going to kill her.

"What are you doing?" he asked sharply.

She started to back away. "Please," she pleaded in a small voice, "Please don't kill me." She closed her eyes as a few tears slipped out. "Please," she choked out. She could hear him walking toward her. She kept her eyes closed, bracing herself. He stopped right in front of her.

"Why do you think that I would kill you?" he demanded to know.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at the menacing figure in front of her. Despite the harsh tone he had used and his blank expression, she saw the genuine concern in his eyes. Without hesitating, she threw herself at him and clung to him. He tried to pry her off, but he gave up and sat down with her on his lap. His arms wrapped around her as she buried herself into his chest and cried.

That was how Dumbledore found them. The man scowled and tried again to get her off. He couldn't get her to let go and just turned her around to face the older wizard. She tensed; waiting for the questions she knew would come.

"I am Albus Dumbledore and this," he gestured to the man holding her," is Severus Snape. What is your name?" His question was met with a blank stare.

"Don't you have a name?" Snape asked incredulously. She shook her head.

She looked up at him. "Could you give me one?" she asked quietly. Snape jerked in surprise and looked at Dumbledore imploringly. Dumbledore just looked back at him with twinkling eyes.

Snape realized there was no way out of it. He looked at the girl who had arrived broken and bleeding and saw her looking at him with hopeful eyes. He searched his mind for a fitting name. "Victoria."