The Riddle Twins

Going Home

My eyes fluttered blearily, trying to find the will to open and then gave up. What was the point? If I was dead then there shouldn't be much scenery. I took in a shuddering breath. I was dead.

Wait. I sat bolt upright, I shouldn't be able to breathe....

"Welcome back, Rhya. I must say, you gave me quite the fright there for a while, and frights do not come kindly to an old heart like mine," Albus Dumbledore chuckled, his half-moon spectacles glinting in the dawn light that came filtering through the hospital wing's windows.

I stared in amazement. I was alive, Hogwarts was seemingly still intact and the fact that the Headmaster was smiling must mean that my father remained dead, or semi-dead.

"I'm alive!" I blurted, then quickly composed myself, "I mean, is Harry alright? Is my brother still cursed? I swear he was cursed! Marcal would never hit me on his own accord! Is the Philosophers Stone safe? Where's You Know Who? Is Quirrel gone?"

The headmaster didn't reply at first, he stared out in lost thought, as if trying to sort through the mass of questions thrown at him. Sighing in frustration, I looked down at the comfortable hospital bed, covered in blue and white, stiffly ironed sheets. There was a bedside cabinet on my left and it was covered with what looked like half of Christmas.

"What are all these?" I asked incredulously, unwrapping a silver parcel addressed to me.

"Ah, I see you have discovered your trove of get well presents. Half, I believe, are from your family. Mr Marcal has left your bedside for the first time to go down to breakfast today, persuaded by Ms Mc Gonnigal."

I started, Madonna had persuaded him? That brought up a new question, "How long have I been in here?"

"A little over a week. Mr Potter got out two days ago."

Being around Albus Dumbledore was like being curled up in front of a fireplace; I felt warm, content and secure. That was probably why I casually asked, "Hey, Professor, the night Fluffy attacked me, well, something happened between Potter and I. It is like some sort of bond. I can read his thoughts; feel when he's in pain. Now, for instance, I can tell you that he is taking a third floor shortcut to avoid people staring at him."

To my surprise, the professor didn't call me crazy or ask how hard I hit my head, but gave me a look that felt as if he was staring into my soul. "I think, Rhya, that Mr Potter has made, what is called a 'Wizard's Bond', with you. This occurs when on wizard- or witch, saves another magical human's life. You are now in debt to him, Miss Riddle, a life debt. Usually the wizard's bond is not so strong, but you and Harry are bonded far deeper than that. I am afraid that is all I can go into now. Is there anything else?"

I sifted through this new piece of information. Something was wrong about what he had said, I just couldn't figure out what. Then it hit me. "Miss Riddle?"

Dumbledore smiled genuinely, and he chuckled. "Yes, Rhya, I do in fact know who you are. A teacher never forgets a student; and Tom Riddle was certainly more than that."

"But I'm not expelled," I said stupidly, trying to understand.