My Dark Sister ❤

Prologue: The Cursed Child

On The Year of Our Lord, 1926, December 31st:

Pale grey eyes watched a lone, haggard figure stumble down a dark road, green robes streaming behind her as she struggled down the path. It was New Year's Eve, and a rather warm one, and the young lady was heavily pregnant. Stormy optics gazed as she fell not for the one time, but the fifth time in one hundred yards. Eventually, tired of seeing her fall, the man rose to help her continue on her path toward the foreboding, tall building at the end of the cul-de-sac.
" Do you require my assistance?" The watcher asked with his thick, Germanic accent, his blonde curls tumbling innocently down his face. The woman looked up sharply. The blonde observed the woman, making note of her dreary, heavy set features and dull brown hair; her eyes mismatched (one was a bright green and the other lime) and staring in opposite directions.
" Please." She rasped, her thin lips trembling. The man didn't support her as the woman would have thought, but swept her up into his arms and held her in a bridal hold. The woman gasped but then giggled.
" Might I ask what your name is, fair lady?" The man asked. She smiled.
" Merope Gaunt." She answered. The man paused.
" Are you the heir of Slytherin?" He queried. She froze. The man berated himself for such a forward approach.
" Unfortunately." She replied, bitterly. " I'm assuming that you are a wizard?"
" Only a humble man who sought to help this beautiful maiden." The woman blushed. The man grinned.
Too easy.
The woman gasped.
" He's coming." She whispered. Her shaking hands stroked her protruding stomach. She allowed herself a small smile. " My Tom is coming."
A male heir? He could be helpful for my cause...
" You wish to give birth in the orphanage?" The blonde nodded toward the aforementioned building at the end of the road. She closed her eyes.
" It's all I can do for my child." She murmured. " I'm going to die and I know it. The least I could do for my child is give him a stable home."
She's dying... Perfect. I needn't kill her; nature has planned it out for me...
" I am afraid that I cannot help you much further than the doorstep, for I must return home to my family." He smirked.
More like my followers...
" Thank you." She bowed her head. The strange twosome reached the gate, the doors crowned with the name of the residence: 'Wools Orphanage'. The man helped the woman out of her hold and steadied her against his lithe figure before opening the rusted metal gate, its ominous creak marking the indefinite future of the child of whom the female heir of Slytherin bore. They walked up the path and then the doorstep. The lady freed herself from the man's grasp and leaned against the door. She turned to thank him, but he had vanished. She swallowed and knocked twice on the door. Barely a second passed when it opened and a stern woman not much older than herself answered the tentative call. Her face softened once she saw the woman who had keeled slightly from the pains of childbirth when a fluid suddenly gushed from her nether regions. The stern matron gasped.
" Alice! Bring me a napkin and help me bring this young lady in, she's due for a child!" She ushered the pregnant woman in.
" My name- is- Merope-"
" Your name is not needed for the time being, what's important is that you deliver your child safely." The stern woman cut in.
" Mrs Cole?" A small maid arrived with three towels and a bowl of lukewarm water in hand.
" Help me take Merope to the Maternal Wards. She's broken her waters and is going into labour." Mrs Cole said brusquely. Alice bowed her head and held Merope's other arm.
" You'll be fine, Ma'am."
" I know." Merope whispered, though the knowing look in her eyes betrayed Alice's opinion. They were taken into a similarly clean room to the hallway, though the furniture differed significantly. Mrs Cole led Merope to the bed and plumped the pillows, swaddling Merope in comfort.
" Now then, Sweet Heart, all you need to do is push." Mrs Cole instructed.
Merope's screams lasted for an hour.

***

It was a relatively quick labour compared to others for Merope. The woman herself was only thankful that her family was known for bearing small children, for whilst the pains of childbirth was unbearably agonising it was quite a small quantity when compared to other families such as the Weasleys, of whom were known not only for their vibrant hair colour and large families, but also for the difficulty that the mothers of the family faced because their children tended to be tall. Merope's thoughts were cut off when Alice brushed her forehead and ash brown hair. Mrs Cole emerged from behind the white curtain and Merope felt her heartbeat quicken.
My child... My Tom...
She extended her arms to hold her child but felt them lower in shock when she saw not one, but two small babies within the Matron's arms; one of whom was draped in threadbare blue blankets and the other in pink. Merope's heart clenched.
I have a daughter... A daughter who will grow to be more beautiful than I...
" I have no wish to see the girl." Merope said bluntly. Mrs Cole's eyebrows shot up. Merope didn't seem like the type to only want a son to carry on her family legacy.
" Miss Merope-" Alice was cut off.
" I do not want to see the girl. I do not want to recognise a daughter who will be more beautiful than I." Mrs Cole and Alice both looked disgusted and appalled. Merope could tell that they desperately wanted to withhold her son also because of her refusal to see her daughter, but Merope wasn't the smartest in her family for nothing. " As a matron of the orphanage, you hold no power over my wishes to recognise one child and cast out the other. It is I who holds that will. Now, allow me to see my son." Mrs Cole gave her a dirty look but passed the girl gently to Alice and gave the male infant to Merope.
He's just as I remembered... Black hair... Aristocratic features... But his eyes!
" He looks just like his father. But his eyes... They belong to me." Merope whispered. Her eyes roved over his straight, pert nose and his arched eyebrows, his full lips and his developing face shape; his cheeks held a large amount of fat but she knew- just knew- that he'd look the picture of her husband except for his eyes. She closed her right eye- the bright green one- and placed a cupped hand over it in wonder. " My son." The declaration was filled with love. " I name him Tom, after his father. Marvolo after my father. Riddle." She held the child close. " My baby... My baby boy..."
" And what of your daughter?" Mrs Cole asked. Merope sneered.
" I told you that I refuse to recognise her as part of my family. She may hold Slytherin blood, but she will never be my daughter for as long as she lives."
" She will always be Tom's sister." Alice argued.
" Then so be it." Merope spat. " But I, Merope Riddle nee Gaunt from the Most Noble and Ancient Houses of Gaunt and Slytherin, hereby place a curse upon the girl of whom I have bore within my womb for nine months. I shall not name her and without a name she shall live." She hissed, venomously. Mrs Cole and Alice cut in, but Merope glared at them, clutching her son closer to her breast. " I'm not finished yet. This Nameless Child shall forever live without the ability to love or gain it unless her brother gives it to her first. Tom Marvolo Riddle alone holds the power to break my second curse, and if he does not then she shall be unloved forever more, no matter her beauty."
" But even if this curse does come true- which, God forbid, shall not- then that would mean that Tom shall also live without love aside from his sister. What do you propose should happen if she dies or goes missing?"
" Then Tom shall seek power. It was love," Merope said the word with utter hatred. " That was my weakness, love that hurt me. I'd sooner have Tom without a weakness- without pain- than have him with a broken heart. Love cripples, it weakens. And most of all, it kills. No, Tom will be successful without love. It shall be my will and he shall fulfil it." She kissed her son's forehead, unknowing of the fact that her will was to be completed in the bleak future. Mrs Cole and Alice looked defeated. Merope started to feel herself weaken.
" Then we shall ensure that he will love." Mrs Cole whispered. Merope looked up at them with clouded eyes.
" My will shall be completed." She held her son as tight as she could without harming him. " I hope he looks like his Papa."
Mismatched green eyes slid shut.
Merope Riddle nee Gaunt died a minute before midnight on New Year's Eve, her will lingering in the air.
The clock struck midnight and the air was charged with magic.
Her wish and her curse were both to be granted, a grey eyed, blonde haired man watching the entire scene unfold.
Soon, he thought, soon he'd recruit one of the children.