𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 | tom riddle

𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. she is thunderstorms

❝𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭❞

July 4th 1943

Lilith was born in a lightning storm. She had been torn from her mother in a mess of blood and carnage as she intended to leave the world.

Her elder brother had stood frozen at the door as he watched his mother scream. He had only been eight at the time and no longer remember when he had looked to the healer, the man had held the infant with umbilical cord still attached and had watched in awe as the storm around them replied to the Childs cries.

Her mother had proudly described the scar across her stomach once to her minion like pureblood friends as she held the girl wrapped in navy blue silk.

"This scar shows my daughter power." Héloïse Rosier claimed to the wives of the elite who cooed at the child. "She is why the most powerful storms are named after women."

Héloïse adored her daughter who had not taken favour with her mostly absent father. Her father wanted an heir and he had it with his son Nicholas, he had no need of an extra daughter. Her mother taught her everything she needed to know to live in a mans world, how to wield her beauty like the sharp edge of a knife.

Her father had countless understandings with other pureblooded families that as soon as his daughter came of age, she would marry one them. As she grew she was one of the most sought after heiress' of the age. Her mother knew she was destined for greater things than marriage.

"Un jour, ma chérie. [One day, my darling] " Héloïse said as she braided her daughters hair as she sat in her blue silk nightdress, the colour of her Veela ancestry. "Tu vas leur montrer à tous qui tu es. Ton nom est peut-être Rosier mais cela ne te définira pas. Je t'ai nommé d'après Lilith, première femme d'Adam. [You are going to show them all who you are. Your name may be Rosier but that will not define you. I named you after Lilith, first wife of Adam.]"

Her mother finished the braid and placed both hands on her daughters shoulders and leaned down so her face was in line with Lilith's. Two emerald green eyes stared into the mirror in front of them, one calculating and knowledgable and the other curious and still filled with the innocence of childhood.

"Soyez toujours Lilith, jamais Eve ma chérie. [Always be Lilith, never eve my darling] " Héloïse whispered to her child who was growing into a mini her. "Si vous ne pouvez pas être meilleur qu'eux, vous devez devenir tellement pire. [If you cannot be better than them, you must become so much worse.]"

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Lilith now sat at her vanity in the Slytherin dorm room, combing a silver brush through ebony hair as she contemplated her reflection. She looked so much like her mother, she knew that. She knew that once her mother had died her father could not stand to look at her. She was a reminder of what he had done to his wife. How he had killed her.

She tugged her brush through her hair slightly more harsher at that thought.

She could see him in her minds eyes. He was a weak man, he fancied himself a powerful pureblooded lord but she knew what he was. She knew that he was a coward. She knew he could not stand all of societies eyes going to his wife and daughter not him and his pathetic excuse for an heir.

Her brother had stood by silently, merely continuing to eat his food as his mother coughed and frothed at the mouth as the poison took hold. Lilith had cried and wailed as she had the first night of her life when the storm responded back but this time she was only met with silence as her mother's beautiful eyes drained of the vivacious life she had been known for.