Prologue

680 Words
It had been 9 years since the last time she saw what outside looks like. Darkness creeps around her, slithering like a massive snake, and choking her with it. Coldness drip into her skin, stinging like a strong acid burning her skin. Numbness seeping into her every fiber, screaming for any sign of freedom. Freedom that was easily stolen from her. It's been nine years since she was accused of murdering her mother, and it's been nine years since the day she was thrown into Azkaban. No one would believe it, but the Ministry of Magic had really put a six years old child inside the place where darkness lurks within. A child that is surrounded by Dementors, horrible, spectral magical creatures, hooded and robed, that feed on human's positive emotion, and leaving them with nothing but despair. Despair, that she had grown fond of. To think that she had spent her nine years of life, living and growing inside that prison, would drive her mad. It didn't. It had done nothing, but build her to what she is now. A perfect tool to destroy a power-hungry man. A perfect weapon to bring down the man that had made her. The man whose blood and flesh lies inside her. The man that was the real reason why her mother succumbed to death, and she was left paying for a sin she had never done. Mirabella Riddle... She was no one. No records of her birth. No records of her name. Nothing. Nothing that will prove she is living. But she is. She is breathing. She is alive, and she is ready to make everyone pay. But that's not everything... You would think that the man that killed her mother would want nothing to do with her anymore, but Tom Riddle has every reason to want her. Not because she is his daughter. No. Getting his child inside Azkaban was not a way of getting rid of her. It was his way to carve her into a perfect weapon, that'll bring him the power to rule the world. The moment he had to look into her eyes, he already knows she was no different from him. That was the thing Mirabella will change with all of her might. Tom Riddle's only problem is that her beliefs and loyalties rely on a boy Mirabella had never met. A boy with bright green eyes, that holds very intriguing emotions. A boy she had only see in her dreams. One look at his face, smiling at her with open arms as if the darkness within her doesn't matter to him, was more than enough for Mirabella to trust him. Now all she needs is to get out of the hell she was not supposed to love and grew fond of. And just as if someone had heard her thoughts, a tall, thin, and very old man, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt, peek into her cell. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles. The very opposites of Mirabella's, which is dark, deep, and cold. His nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. The man smiled down at her fragile, petite body. Squinting his eyes as if he's trying to see through her emotionless orbs. He can't be mistaken. Everything about the girl in front of him reminds him of a boy he once knew as a talented, intelligent, and a great student when he was a professor. Mirabella had never met this man, aside from every dream and nightmare she had. Seeing him in front of her makes her grin. "Are you here to offer me a deal, Albus Dumbledore?" She saw how a glint of amusement crosses the old man's calculating gaze. It was short, but it was enough to tell her that it's finally time for her to leave Azkaban. ☘
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