Voldemort's Children

Tom and Nerissa Riddle are two orphans, stuck in a boring orphanage in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly, an old man with half moon spectacles turns up with information that will change their lives forever... Join the Riddle twins on a breathtaking quest to discover the truth. Who can they trust? What is Magic, truly? And most importantly, who are their parents?

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1. The Change

~ Nerissa's POV~

' NERISSA! Wake up,' my twin brother yelled from the creaky door of our room. ' Miss Allistar wants us.' I swung my legs wearily out of the hard orphanage bed. 'The hag wants us now?' I grumbled. My curly black hair was a tangled mess, and I felt awfully groggy. 'Now. Sorry. '

' What does she want! ' I cried exasperatedly. 'If she wants us to know what happened to Danny's flute, I didn't steal it.'

My brother rolled his eyes, and said it wasn't about the stupid flute, and turned and ran down the steep metal stairs almost directly outside our door.

So I dragged my fingers through my tangled mane to make it seem more presentable (only succeeding in knotting my fingers into my hair) and, with one hand stuck in it (though I eventually yanked it out) clattered down the stairs after him.

At the bottom of the stairs stood Miss Allistar. Her bony face and owlish eyes stared up at us, almost expressionless. She was dressed in a long grey dress and white collar and her short hair and fringe were the same colour. 'Ah, Nerissa, Tom,' She said in her reedy voice. 'I see you've finally bothered to come.'

I glared at her and opened my mouth, but before I could even start speaking she cut me off.

'Someone wants to see you,' she stated curtly. 'Come.'

'Who's it?' I asked suspiciously. I wondered if I was a person from a mental hospital. Me and my brother weren't exactly normal. Strange things happened, when we were angry, exhilarated, scared. Amelia Fletcher, another orphan, who tried to steal my pocket money, suddenly had a fatal seizure the moment I saw her (serves her right).

Both me and Tom could speak to snakes. We could hear them. We understood them. We were one with them.

When Miss Allistar dragged me to her office once she found out. I didn't mean to. I don't know exactly how I did it, but the next moment, without anyone even doing anything, her desk was on fire.

When Tom got shouted at by Susan, one of the people who kept us in that awful building, for 'borrowing' Jonny O'Donnell's book, the hat stand nearby came alive somehow and chased her out of the building. Susan never came back.

These are only a few of the things- incidents, I suppose you'd call them- that happened. I felt anger, pure and simple, rise up to my throat. I saw red, and the flaming monster in me rose also.

'If it's one of the mental people, me and Tom are not crazy, you old hag!' I shrieked, and immediately the lightbulb above me exploded, showering us all in broken glass.

Miss Allistar shoved us out of the way and we skidded away, sprawling on the hard oak floor. Miss Allistar shot away after us, shaking with fury.

'I wish, you insolent child,' she hissed 'But today someone else visited us today, a man called Professor Dumbleton. He wishes to speak to you, in private.'

The moment she said 'You', a strange old guy opened the door of her office and stepped out quietly. He was wearing a really long midnight blue dress and a matching cloak, edged with silver, and he had a really long beard like cotton wool tucked inside his belt. He had long strait silvery hair and half moon glasses. Blue eyes twinkled behind them, and he surveyed the scene gravely.

'Ah,' He said quietly. 'Hello, children. My name is Professor Dumbledore.' He then addressed Miss Allistar. 'May I speak to Miss Riddle and Mr Riddle, in private, Miss Allistar? It seems we have quite a lot to discuss.'

'Feel free!' Miss Allistar cried angrily, dusting her dress. 'I'll advise you to take care, though. They might set fire to that ridiculous nightie of yours!'

And with that final retort, she stormed into her office and slammed the door shut, leaving the maids to sweep up the broken glass.

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