Riddle (H.P)

Cassiopeia Riddle has lived in an orphanage all her life; no knowledge of her family or who she really is. Nothing, that is, until she's finally found by Hogwarts and she can finally go and become the person she's supposed to be, discovering not just herself, but her family in the process. Will she find what she's looking for? Will she be left disappointed, angry and, most importantly, in danger?

(The Harry Potter series is property of J.K. Rowling. I do not own any scenes or characters from the books or the films. Cassiopeia Riddle is my character, however, and some scenes may differ from the books. There may also be some modern references.)


7. Chapter 7

By the time they arrive to see Dumbledore, they've already bought everything needed to start the new year at Hogwarts. They return to the Leaky Cauldron, weighed down further with bags. When they walk in, Dumbledore is sat in a booth, waiting patiently as he reads a heavy looking book. 
Tom leads the group over to where he's sat. When they enter, they pull the shutters down on the windows. 
"Afternoon, Albus," Remus says, shaking his hand as Sirius' disillusionment charm is removed and he changes into a person again. 
"Hello again, Remus," Dumbledore replies. 
"Albus, we discovered recently that Cassy is a Parselmouth," Molly says, emotion strangely absent from her voice and face. 
"Ah, I suspected as much," he smiles. He looks perfectly at ease with this news. 
"While Remus and I were at Flourish and Blotts, the shopkeeper told me I'm a spitting image of someone and ran off, saying she couldn't serve me," Cassy mentions casually, checking her nails were still perfectly intact. Dumbledore's eyes land on her face surprised, and she makes eye contact and smiles in a sickly sweet way. "I asked a spitting image of who, but Remus stopped that tangent of conversation before she could answer. So I have one question from this trip; when are you going to tell me who my father is?"
Dumbledore sighs slightly. "Soon. You aren't ready yet."
"And you're the one who gets to decide when I'm ready why? I've waited the best part of thirteen years for some form of information on my family and now you're withholding it even longer!"
"You'll find out when the time is right-"
"You mean when some asshole at school let's it slip?" She retorts, sitting in a chair with her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pursed. She looked and felt highly unimpressed by this lack of information. 
"Cassiopeia," Remus remarks, a slight hint of warning in his voice. Cassy ignores him, still holding Dumbledore's gaze unfalteringly. 
"It's only natural to want to know after so long and after so many people telling you of the physical similarities but I don't think you'll be ready to know until your house is determined at Hogwarts-"
"You mean you're not willing to tell me before then because you don't know if I'll be trustworthy or not?"
"That's not what I said."
"No but it's what you meant."
Dumbledore clasps his hands together on the table and studied them intently, finally breaking the eye contact. 
Cassiopeia studies everyone's faces discreetly; Fred and George looking like this confrontation is better than Christmas, Harry looking at Cassy as if he's never seen anyone so stupidly brave (or maybe just stupid), Hermione and Ron appearing to never have seen someone question Dumbledore the same way before. The rest of the people were looking emotionless, almost like the angry heat boiling in Cassy's chest had sucked the emotion out of them. 
"I just want to know," she mumbles suddenly, after a few minutes of heavy silence. "I'd rather be told now than be clueless when I show up to school."
"I'd rather that you're going into school with a fresh mind and without a weight like that bearing down upon you," Dumbledore replies calmly. 
"It wouldn't be a weight. And I won't wear it like a medal. I'll have the knowledge stored away. I met Draco Malfoy, he wouldn't tell me who he is either. But he told me he's ruthless, compassionless- cruel. People are expecting that, aren't they? That's what they'll all think. Isn't it fitting that I at least know why they think that?"
"Mr Malfoy was smart not to tell you," Dumbledore says approvingly. 
"Why, because you don't want me to know yet? Because it fits your agenda for lack of a better word."
"Because I want to tell you when you're ready. This blatant arguing is proof that you're not."
"Maybe this blatant arguing is a sign that I'm not going to let myself be kept in the dark much longer," Cassy exclaims, standing from her chair suddenly. She walks towards the door. "I'll be outside when you guys are ready to leave."
She exits the room, leaving a trail of shocked silence in her wake. She goes out to the Muggle side of London, finding a bench and sitting down. From the Leaky Cauldron, the same boy from outside Flourish and Blotts follows her out. 
"I saw you leave, you looked upset," he says as he approaches. "Do you want some company?"
As much as Cassy's instincts want to say no, she nods. This boy intrigues her. 
"Still no luck on extracting information on your dad?"
Cassy shakes her head. "I just argued with Dumbledore over me knowing. He's adamant that I'm not to know until a later date." She adds an eye roll to perfectly illustrate her point. 
"A later date as in after school starts? That's a terrible idea," Draco says, shaking his head. 
"He said you were right not to tell me; but I sourly disagree."
Draco tuts slightly under his breath. "I don't want to be a recipient of Dumbledore's wrath, but you have all the books you need now to figure it out for yourself. A hint, however; his name now is not the same as his name then."
Cassy shoots him a confused look, but before she can ask anything more, Ron sticks his head out and beckons to Cassiopeia. She sighs and bids goodbye to Draco, smiling at him as she retreats back inside the pub.

The Floo Powder transports the group and their possessions back to The Burrow as quickly as it had taken them to Diagon Alley. Cassiopeia has a hand carrying her extensive purchases up the stairs to Ginny's room and she sits on her makeshift bed as she begins to pack her trunk perfectly. She packs books (magical and Muggle) in the bottom, since they were heaviest, lesson equipment (potions ingredients and parchment, quills and ink just to name some of it) and clothes on top, since they would be reached for more often before Hogwarts. Some books were still spread out on her bed- decided on from Draco's suggestions of looking it up. She collects these books into a pile and Ginny comes running into the room. 
"Hey, we're going to play Quidditch in a field just over the hill. Coming?"
"Yeah! Sure, sounds like fun," Cassy smiles. "Let me just sort out these last few books and I'll be there."
Ginny nods and leaves. 
Cassy picks up one of the rucksacks she used to bring some of her stuff to The Burrow and stacks the books in carefully- including the one that magically appeared on her pillow (nothing would surprise her at this point).
Armed with her books, she walks downstairs, and meets the group of players for Quidditch. Her bag seems to throw Ginny, Harry and Ron- but Fred, George and Hermione seem to know exactly what she's doing. Nobody questions it, however and they march out to the field, surrounded by trees. Despite the cover, they still can't release real balls or fly too high- but none the less they make do with what they can, using Muggle balls and flying low. As they watch, Hermione and Cassy lazily flick through some recreational reading- Hermione sometimes explaining some inconsistencies with this Muggle-wary version of Quidditch and full-scale matches. 
Cassy scans pages and pages of information, coming across many people who threatened the wizarding world; but the worst of the worse, from what Cassy gathered, are a Gellert Grindlewald and Lord Voldemort. Cassy finds a particularly interesting passage on Gellert Grindlewald in one of the books;

Gellert Grindlewald caused the Wizarding World huge problems during the 1920's. Before Lord Voldemort was even aware of his magical powers, Grindlewald was planning domination, and trying to act on it.Born around 1883, his place of birth is unknown. Expelled from Durmstrang Institute in Bulgaria for 'twisted experiments' and near fatal attacks on fellow students, he left school at age 16. Despite his expulsion, he went to Godric's Hollow to live with his great-Aunt, Bathilda Bagshot. His plan was focused greatly on Wizard dominance over Muggles- and said it was 'for the greater good'. Grindlewald's presence was barely felt in Britian, he focused mostly on the America's. He was defeated in 1945 by childhood friend, Albus Dumbledore.

This somehow conveyed to Cassy that Grindlewald couldn't be her father, and she eliminated him from her search. His age, punishment (being kept in his own prison, of the name Nurmengrad) and focused areas just didn't scream father to Cassy. She continued, getting closer to the section of the book detailing Lord Voldemort's rise and fall from power when suddenly one of the balls from above came pelting towards her face. Just before it it her however, George was in front of her, catching the ball just in time. Cassy looks up to see George grinning at her with the ball in his hands. She smiles back gratefully. Harry flies down, a sheepish smile on his face. 
"Sorry, Cassy. Didn't mean to disturb you," he apologises, sending a strangely pointed look towards the twins. 
"It's alright. I'm fine, just carry on with your game," she smiles, restoring her focus on the book. 
"Wait! Do you wanna play? Hermione's gone back inside, and Ginny's thinking of joining her. You could take her place," Harry offers.
"Anyone would think you're trying to keep me from reading further, Potter," she teases, marking her place and jumping up all the same. She takes the broom from Ginny as she goes running inside, letting George talk her through the basics of flying. Once she was up in the air, she could feel instinct running through her veins- almost like in Muggle sports at school. 

She flew around, playing alongside the boys. By the time they finished, the sun had set considerably- the only reason that they had gone back inside. 
After tucking into a particularly nice dinner cooked by Mrs Weasley, the children traipsed up to bed, vaguely reminding each other of the early wake up for the Quidditch World Cup the next morning.

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