Riddle , Echomist Whisper Riddle. That's my name.
The girl pressed on her zig zag scar near her neck, tracing it against the lines. My father is the dark lord, I look at my prison. Sigh. I just got my daily treatment of discipline from my father, he keeps on thinking that I'll get the wrong idea or something.
I stared at the only color in my room, a picture of Harry Potter. The boy who lived. In the middle, a huge knife was cutting in the pictures heart.
"Find him, " the snake hissed, " And bring him to me,"
I don't own JK Rowling's blah blah blah. But I do own my characters personality. I'll try not to kill Fred. ( so much power in ones hand,) now bah bah bah. I sound like a old man. (Ps I'm not old, I'm twelve.)