Melanie's Daughter (Sequel to Voldemort's Daughter- Sarah Riddle)

Chapter Two

CHAPTER 2

HERMIONE'S POV

'Why do you even bother?' Harry snarled, 'why bother playing like this? It's all a game to you isn't it? People die, good people, at the hands of Voldemort. But why should you care? Your heart is blacker than his is.'

It was Ron that moved first, standing in-between Harry and Sarah with an anxious expression. Sarah's wicked smile returned, and my heart sank.

'You know me that well do you?' she said. 'I saved your life Potter,' she whispered, 'I risked everything I have to save you. Dumbledore trusts me- isn't that a sign?'

Harry's brow furrowed in hatred, sure that Sarah was lying, until a single tear rolled from Sarah's cheek and fell to the floor.

'But... Why?' Harry stuttered, pushing Ron aside to be closer to Sarah.

'Did it ever strike you that I might not be a pawn of the Dark Arts? I mean, aside from being good at it, there's no real good that comes from being bad. If you couldn't work that out already.'

I stood and, pushing Harry to one side, approached Sarah myself. I looked into her merciless coal eyes, trying to find warmth. She looked away and I scowled.

'Are you sure?' I asked, 'you could be lying. It's not beneath you.'

Sarah glared at me then softened her gaze.

'I'm sure,' she said. 'Believe me yet?'

I shrugged.

'You're convincing,' I said.

'But so was Voldemort, back when he was a kid. Dumbledore told me so.' Harry interjected. Sarah nodded.

'All of my family -that being my father, Draco and myself- are good at lying. It's one of our natural gifts.'

I found it curious that she included Malfoy in her "family" but made no remark about it. Harry stared at her for an eternity, trying to read her bottomless eyes.

'I'm a skilled Occulems,' she added somewhat irritated, 'I'm pretty much unreadable. It's my word or nothing Potter.'

Ah... Sarah Riddle was smart, regardless of what she let on. Accepting her "word" would lead to giving her trust, which, if she was lying, could set in place a horrible consequence.

I don't know what it was in her faded smile, or the way she presented her case with such pain, but I nodded.

'I believe you.'

SARAH'S POV

I blinked my eyes. Surely this was a hallucination. Hermione didn't just...

'Huh?'

I looked at both Ron and Potter's blank expressions.

'You heard me,' Hermione said, 'I believe Sarah's telling the truth. Harry? Ronald?'

I looked to Potter and Ron, gauging their reactions.

Harry looked as though he might explode, but nodded, resigned. Ron's mouth was wide open, still looking at Hermione.

'Well?' I said.

'Yeah,' Ron said, 'sure. Welcome to our side.'

I smiled.

'Thanks.'

I reasoned later that it was probably sarcasm that he welcomed me but, strangely enough, I didn't care. There was some part of me jubilant that, for once, I'd spoken to Potter honestly without making a threat.

'So...' I broke the silence as I took out my wand. It was glowing a strange white. How odd.

'That happen often?' Hermione asked timidly, pointing.

'Yeah,' I said, unable to tear my gaze from it. 'Something to do with my emotions. Father put it in place to make sure I kept myself neutral. If I got pissed it'd glow red -nearly burn my arse off- but not anymore. I've fixed most of my emotions, you see.' Ron snorted, Hermione bit her lip hiding a smile, and Harry looked like he was about to be sick.

'What?' I asked.

'Do you... Must you call him your Father?' Harry croaked, 'you're making him sound like an actual human.' Storm clouds cracked over my sun and I glowered.

'He is my father Potter,' I said, 'no matter how you might hate me, I am his daughter. I've chosen to help you remember? And yes, although my FATHER is slightly evil, he still classifies as human. Understood?'

Hermione let out a small sigh and I looked to her.

'It's like a tragic fairytale,' she said, 'you, a dark depraved spawn of Voldemort fighting against your own father, even though you know you can't. You won't hurt your own father Sarah.'

In normal circumstances, being called a depraved spawn would've infuriated me, but, like always, Hermione was right.

'I suppose,' I shrugged, then focused my attention on the door opening downstairs. 'Come on, the meetings over.'

***

The smell of pumpkin pie was the first thing I noticed. It was amazing, the aroma managing to put a smile on even the grimmest faces.

Molly Weasley bustled into the dining room, balancing at least five different trays. Figuring I should probably help, I whipped out my wand and removed half the plates, setting them down on the table with a small clunk.

She didn't smile, nor bid me any sense of thanks. She nodded and I returned the gesture. At least she made eye-contact, I thought, looking around at the rest of the Order.

They hated me.

I went to sit down next to Fred and George Weasley but they moved. I looked up and saw Snape staring sadly at me. I shrugged.

'It doesn't matter,' I mouthed. He raised an eyebrow, as if to say "yeah... Right".

I was about to answer when Dumbledore patted me on the shoulder.

'Here,' he said, passing me a letter, 'an owl just left this for you.' I thanked him and went to grab it but Mad-Eye pushed me aside and took the letter. He flipped it open and scanned the contents.

His lip curled as he read, before re-folding it and thrusting it back at me. He truly was horrible. Instead of opening the Letter however, I followed Moody as he sat down and helped himself to a tankard of mead. I stood behind him, arms crossed and foot tapping, until be turned around.

'Yes Miss Riddle?' he asked almost lazily.

'You just read my mail.'

'I know. It's just from Malfoy's kid.' A chortle echoed up the table and I scowled.

'You had no right!' Moody stood up, taller than me, and glared.

'I had every right Miss Riddle,' he said, 'for all we know, you could have been contacting Voldemort himself!'

Silence.

Dumbledore put his hand on my shoulder, leaning down to talk to me.

'Go upstairs- read your letter in peace. I'll come get you just before we start to eat.'

Nodding, I shot one final glare at Moody and vanished in a poof of black smoke- just to prove his point