The Sparrow and The Serpent

Introduction

On a dark and dreary street sat a lopsided dark and dreary building. "Madame Levesque's School for Young Ladies" was hardly a school. Margot wasn't sure what parent would sign their child up to attend Madame Levesque's, which must be why all the "students" were orphans. The school doubled as a "home" as many of the staff called it. Margot didn't know much about what made a "home" but she was sure this place wasn't one. Despite her good intentions, Margot never seemed to get it right with her classmates. All the girl's shoes were worn until the rubber was flat but her peers always insisted that Margot's shoes were the worst. When the girls got their haircut in the same blunt way with kitchen scissors, the girls all laughed and pointed at Margot's. She didn't try to make friends, she just tried to keep herself busy. Books became her very best friends, losing herself in stories of elves and goblins or envisioning herself as a witch on a broom. Her small hands would glide aimlessly over the glossy photos of magical creatures and witches' houses in the woods.

Holidays were not seen as a priority at Madame Levesque's and birthdays were no exception. As some girls got older, their friends might throw them a small party and sneak white sugar from the kitchen, sticking grubby fingers into the stuff before letting it melt on their tongues. There would be no such midnight sugar rush for Margot. Her birthday, July 15th, had come to an end, most uneventually. She lay on her cot, listening to the sounds of the orphanage as she felt the sweat on her back soak the sheet under her. The breeze floating in the window on the other side of the room was doing little to cool the room. Some girls slept on the floor in the summer to try to reach cooler air, some slept naked or covered themselves in wet rags before crawling into bed. Margot rolled on her side and listened to the quiet intake of breath and gentle snoring of the girls around her. She didn't feel a kinship to these girls, but the closeness to them soothed her. It was nice to not be alone.

Margot let her eyes close slowly and felt sleep finally tug at her mind. She always felt excited to sleep, where her dreams took her on adventures to faraway lands. In that tender place between sleep and wake, Margot heard a light tapping. When it persisted she peeked through one open eye across the room, spotting a blurry white blob outside the window. A white owl sat and considered her as she made her way across the room, its head slightly cocked to the side and a letter sitting in its mouth.

"Is that for me?" Margot smiled and remembered the stories from her books, a magical animal talking to her in the dead of night.

The owl didn't talk but dropped the letter into Margot's hands, flying off suddenly. She let her finger slide under the wax seal and pulled the pages out.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Margot Riddle,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

She laughed slightly to herself, if she had friends she might have thought they somehow were playing a joke on her for her birthday. She read the pages over and over, trying to make sense of the words.

...accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Margot folded up the papers and slipped them into her pillowcase. That night, she dreamt of a castle on a hill, of a black lake, and a room with candles floating in the air. When she woke, there were brash voices outside of her door. She was sure, somehow, that she was in trouble, that she had done something to get this owl sent to her as a joke.

"The girl will come with us muggle," the voice on the other side of the door. Muggle? Margot thought, what does that mean?

The door to her bedroom flew open and two figures walked in; the first was a short man in a ratty suit coat, bald head, and what appeared to be a runny nose. The other figure was a woman, dressed in all black with sharp facial features. Her hair hung in long curled ringlets and was pulled back to reveal a stripe of white blonde hair. Perhaps the most confusing thing was that both of the figures carried sticks in their hands.

"Please!" Margot said, "Please don't hurt me!"

"Hurt you?!" one voice said, "We wouldn't dare hurt the Dark Lord's daughter!"

"The... what?" Margot said.