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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3. Diagon Alley

~Nerissa's POV~

Tom and me walked quickly out of the station into bright sunlight. He had the wizard gold and I had the lists and a small map that Dumbledore had provided. I couldn't help but wonder if it was all a trick, some hopeless scheme concocted by Miss Stupid as a twisted punishment for all the 'accidents' that had happened the past few years. I hoped not. It sounded awfully interesting, all of this Wizard business. Too good to be true, almost.

'Where d'you think we'll find this pub?' I wondered, almost wishing we had agreed to let Dumbledore come with us.

My brother's face betrayed no emotion, as ever. He didn't reply, but scanned the map again and dragged me around another corner.

Eventually we found a dingy looking pub that everyone but us couldn't seem to see. An ancient sign swung creakily in the wind, and in peeling faded letters it announced that it was The Leaky Cauldron. I wasn't sure how this old cramped place could be a passport to the wizarding world, but we just had to go in and see. Tom pushed open the creaky wooden door to the pub and I followed him hesitantly. The door slammed shut behind us, and I looked around the pub. It looked pretty average, the toothless and balding old barman cleaning a mug behind the counter, smoky air and the buzz of chatter everywhere. But if you looked closely you'd notice the differences between this so called 'wizard' pub and normal pubs; I saw a strange green hulking figure who looked like a troll, a pale man with black slicked back hair and unusually sharp teeth; I saw an old hunched woman wearing a pointy hat and holding a stick that she somehow used to stir the spoon in her drink; A quivering man in a purple turban; and I saw a huge furry man shepherding a boy around me and Tom's age about. The boy had round glasses, a thin face, bright green eyes and messy black hair, and didn't seem too special, but everyone was paying lots of attention to him and shaking his hand and shouting 'Harry Potter- a pleasure, a pleasure!'

Obviously this kid, Harry Potter, was a sort of celebrity. I wondered why.

'Come on Nerissa,' Tom said to me quietly, his dark eyes flashing. Reluctantly I followed him to the counter. The old guy looked at us, looking shocked and a little frightened, then masked his face with a hesitant grin (which he couldn't really do, being toothless, but he did his best).

'How could I help you?' He asked, giving the mug one final wipe and setting it aside.

'An old man called Dumbledore said you can help us find Diagon Alley.' Tom said quietly, leaning forward and looking at him intently.

'Why yes,' the barman said quickly. He led us out of another door. I stared blankly; this door led to pretty much nowhere. All I could see was a brick wall and a few dustbins. But the bar guy pulled out an oak stick that he had in his apron and tapped a few bricks in the wall. Suddenly, I'm not too sure how, the bricks sank back into the wall and shifted about like a nest of disturbed ants- and after a few seconds of commotion, a neat, large rectangular doorway was there, leading into an entirely new world. Me and Tom stared into this place with awe.

The barman looked completely unsurprised and pocketed his oak wand.

'I must leave you now, customers to serve.' He said loudly, and scurried away, clearing his throat. I wondered why he was acting so frightened. I had a lot of questions for Dumbledore when we'd start going to Hogwarts in September.

Diagon alley was a hubbub of magical activity. Magical people bustled about, left and right, entering weird shops to buy wizard stuff. A tiny, fat boy, about our age but much shorter, waddled past us, clutching a toad, his granny shrieking in his ear. I think she had a stuffed bird on her hat. The kid gave us a frightened look and scrambled past as quick as his chubby legs would let him.

Me and Tom do look a bit different, I always knew that. I studied my reflection in a bottle of newt eyeballs in display at the potion ingredients window. Raven black corkscrew curls that I could never tame, dark green eyes and extremely pale skin. I stared at my reflection and tilted my head proudly, looking down at everyone, hiding my pain. Tom stood impatiently next to me, glancing up and down the street. We don't look much alike, for twins; Tom has silky dark brown hair that reached his chin, dark eyes, a chiselled jaw and pale skin. We were both tall for our age, and Tom rarely smiled or gave away any indication of what he was thinking about, only occasionally could I 'read' him; by the flicker of the flame in his eyes.

'Nerissa, stop idling.' He said to me in his quiet, yet dangerous, tone of voice that I've long since gotten used to. Basically, he meant; "Nerissa if we have to keep standing here like stuffed animals your goose is COOKED."

I shrugged coolly and followed him into this robe store run by an old witch called Madame Malkins. She looked at us questioningly, like we were a puzzle she couldn't figure out, but didn't ask anything. She ushered my brother onto a stool and then started measuring his 'wand arm' (as she called it) and his legs and the width of his shoulders. Eventually when she finished her measuring she pulled a black robe over his head and started pinning it to make it the right length and stuff. When she'd finished, she started with me. 'Just stand on the stool, dearie, and let Madame Malkin do the rest.' She told me in a motherly voice, as Tom stood and waited by the counter. At some point, while she was measuring my neck, a blonde kid with way too much hair gel, strutted in, alone. He glanced at us coolly, pretending to be uninterested, but I could sense a spark of curiosity. He stood next to me on a stool as Madame Malkin finished measuring me and did a cool spell ( I think she said 'Accio pins') which made the pin box shoot out of a drawer and strait into her outstretched hands.

'Hello, my names Draco, Draco Malfoy. Who are you?' He drawled as Madame Malkin fussed about the hem of my robes.

'My name is Nerissa Riddle, and over there is my brother, Tom.' I answered, emotionless enough.

'Which house will you be in at Hogwarts? I'm going to be in Slytherin; it's the best house and all my family have been sorted into it.' He questioned.

'I don't know...' I said falteringly. I realised now just how little I knew about my true home, my family. AllI ever had was Tom, and he was so... Detached. 'Are you a mudblood?' The Malfoy boy said snidely.

'Language please, Mister!' Madame Malkin blustered, her face red. Obviously he'd just said something very, very rude.

Anger bubbled up in my chest; the monster I'd tried to keep hidden for so long roared in my chest; it fought to be heard for so, so long. I let it empower me, fill me up, and let it do what it had to do.

I seized the front of Malfoy's robes. My eyes flashed and a cold fire lit up in them. My hand, which was gripping his robes with immense strength, was starting to smoke. Sparks flew from it, lighting up his terrified grey eyes.

'What did you say?' I hissed quietly, while a distressed Madame Malkin bobbed around us like a annoying bird. Malfoy's face was starting to go purple 'I'm- sorry- please- stop...' Malfoy choked, grabbing my hand which was still gripping his robes and then letting go; it was red hot.

'Nerissa,' My brother said quietly, coming over and resting a hand on my arm, although it was obvious he was enjoying himself. 'Lets go. We have better things to do than speak to... Garbage.'

Malfoy looked offended but said nothing, terrified. In one swift movement I let go of his robes and shoved my smoking hand in my new robes. Tom tossed a few galleons into Madame Malkin's frozen hands, and we exited, leaving Malfoy to massage his neck.

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