If by chance one were to ask about her birth, Apollymi would deign to answer that question with another question, despite the fact that she absolutely abhorred doing so. She would look that person dead in the eyes, give them her best whimsical smile, and counter with a simple - if not rehearsed: which birth exactly, did you mean?

But due to the Lord's good graces, that wasn't something usually asked and if by chance that it was, well then she would definitely make sure to enjoy that conversation. And yes, by which she meant there was more than one occasion to choose from as asinine as that sounded.

Now if the person asking these rather invasive questions persisted in their curiosity, they might then inquire after how exactly that was possible?

Well, it was easy to explain really, but at the same time complicated beyond measure. She, Apollymi Yorkshire, was born in the now, and the girl named Catherine Amity, was born in the before. Two separate births but essentially they were the same person, if not a bit different looking.

So once again, that rather rude and nosy person - who really needed to mind their own business if they knew what was good for them - might be wondering where was the now and where was the before? And well, she'll make the information public if the curiosity was so great.

The before was earth and so was the now. Both have fifty plus states and countries. Both have the same oceans, canyons, and rivers. Both reside within the same confines because both are indeed, the same.

So then what was the difference?

If these places held such similar distinctions then what made them separate?

One word really: Magic

Or Magick since magic without the k implied sleight of hand supposedly, but that was entirely beside the point.

The now had a hidden society enclosed behind charmed walls and illusions. The now was shrouded in mysticism and fog and saturated in myths and superstitions.

And just how did she come to be in the now?

Well through Catherine Amity's dismal death of course! Apollymi couldn't remember the grisly details - or rather she could but she wasn't going to be telling anyone anytime soon - but when she had awakened coddled in a red-haired woman's frantic arms, she knew she wasn't nineteen or safely tucked back in her hometown.

In fact judging by the woman's accent she was somewhere in England, but at that moment that wasn't so important compared to the much larger revelations.

This place she was in, the now, it had a name and when she figured it out she had been shocked to the bone.

Wrapped in her new mother's arms - who was only known as Mother since her attendants only called her Mistress and not by her name - nearly all the time, she always heard a name that stuck out in her memories.

Gellert Grindelwald.

Now to some people that would just sound like one majorly funky epithet but to her it was a defining milestone. To her, it gave something more solid to cling to and even a bit of an explanation.

Grindelwald: a man considered to be one of the most powerful Dark Wizards of all time. A man who was romantically involved with Dumbledore. A man who wanted all three hallows.

A man who by all means shouldn't exist.

But at that point, a break dancing elephant could have burst into the room and Apollymi wouldn't even have batted an eyelash. Needless to say, she did indeed blink hard when her mother pulled out an elegant black stick and gave it a wave as a silvery light cast off the tip.

Apollymi had been reincarnated into the 1930's if her guess was right, during WWII. She didn't know if she was speaking for anyone else but not even a history buff would find living in this era interesting.

Couldn't she have been born a decade after such a problematic time period or was this some kind of karmic penance for all her past misdeeds?

Oh and speaking of such misdemeanors her new mother was quite macabre. The woman reminded her of a red-haired, golden brown skinned Morticia Addams with her style of dress and salacious manner. She was a beautiful woman, with her sculpted face, drawling voice, and ever changing eye color.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that her mother was a Metamorphmagus, but it still did and always would she supposed.

From what she gathered from her mother's conversations and worried ramblings, the woman wasn't exactly for the whole 'dark army' thing but she was for being dark. The woman dabbled heavily in Vodou and other practices, which didn't necessarily belong in that category but according to her these white British wizards didn't understand the difference when concerning another culture.

Her mother was for practicing the other half of magic, doing old rituals that required blood sacrifices, dancing naked under the moonlit sky, and the worship of old holidays and gods. And as stereotypical as that sounded, Apollymi could understand the need for religious freedom seeing as she had been pagan in a household of devout Catholics in her past life.

It was her mother's culture. It was how she had been raised and apparently according to her, the Light-Siders would rather do away with such traditions and keep everyone from doing what had been done for centuries. Her mother would ramble to her saying that yes, some of her dark brethren went too far with their practices and they should indeed be stopped! But to end an entire practice due to a few bad apples was just idiotic and prejudiced.

She would say that the light abhorred dark curses, spells, and potions because they cause harm but with a well-placed levitation spell one could throw another off of a cliff. And that spell was typically light.

Her passion for her right to practice dark magic freely and safely was what led her to follow Grindelwald, but as her leader's mission became clearer and clearer her mother decided she wouldn't raise her child to follow such madness.

In fact, she was so adamant that it not be so, that one day she had returned to the manner in a frenzy and had decided to drop her on the doorstep of a dreary looking building.

The expression on her mother's face was wide-eyed panic and indecision as she knelt down beside her carriage. So at the very least Apollymi knew the woman was not 100 percent for this course of action and that was a small saving grace.

Bending down her mother - whose name she still did not know after all this time - gave her a weary look.

"If I could darling," She began in her smooth low voice. "I would not leave you here especially considering how prejudiced these people are to children born of two different races but so many of my options are now closed to us and he has already come to collect me for my return."

Dark hands lifted a golden chain adorned with an encircled star from around her neck and her mother clipped it to Apollymi's.

"This will keep you safe Olly." She said as the necklace gave a golden pulse. "And no one but whomever you willingly gift it too, will be able to take it from you."

With a fascinated stare Apollymi watched as her mother's hair changed from its fiery red to a solemn blue as her mother pressed a slow kiss to her forehead. Drawn back to reality as the woman pulled away, Apollymi reached out a hand and grabbed onto the indigo locks, halting her progress.

Stopping, her mother turned to face her with a positively heartbroken smile.

"Mommy loves you darling." Was all that was said before she untangled her pudgy fingers, gave the door bell a ring, and turned sharply on her heel.

And with a crack, her mother was gone.

Dismayed but not shocked by her desertion, Apollymi did nothing for a while but lay there lax as the front door opened and someone carried her inside.

She felt conflicted.

On one hand her mother had pulled a Dumbledore on her by setting her on the steps and leaving. But on the other hand she knew what would happen by inference if Grindelwald had found them together, so could she really blame her mother?

Rationally she knew she shouldn't feel so wounded since she barely knew the lady and was, in reality, a nearly grown woman. But how would anyone feel about being ditched in an entirely new universe?

Not good she'd imagine.

Suddenly through a displacement of air she found herself settled in a pair of arms. Surprised at the shift, she flicked her eyes up towards the teenaged girl holding her close to her bosom.

Where exactly had her mother left her?

"Matron! Matron!" The girl called loudly, her brown hair tied up in a ponytail. "Another babe has been left out on the stoop!"

With a walk set in a brisk pace, a firm looking woman entered the room and peered into Apollymi's surprised face. She seemed like she meant absolute business and nothing else with her stern brow and frowning mouth.

"A good looking girl if I ever saw one." She said after a moment, her shrewd eyes locking in on her delicate features. "I don't know about her red hair but it might catch someone's eye although the lack of paleness to her skin might cause some concern."

"I definitely hope that isn't so Matron." The girl said, softly patting Apollymi's back in a soothing gesture. "She's a beautiful babe and deserves a nice family, who won't condemn her mixed blood."

"Was there any identification on the child when you picked her up, Ella?" The Matron asked, moving over to a rather beaten up looking filing cabinet.

"Yes ma'am," The girl nodded. "apparently her name is Apollymi Yorkshire, age: seven months, birthdate: January 1st 1927, and that's all that was written upon the card."

Huh, so the 20's then? She wasn't off by much and it wasn't a better assumption considering all the racism that consumed this era.

"Apollymi Yorkshire?" The Matron hummed, filling out one of the forms she had pulled out. "Strange name, the parents should have stuck with something like Amanda or Ally instead of something so obtuse."

"I don't know Matron, I think it's a fine name." Ella mused with a speculative look. "It's unique, like her."

"Hm, hair and eye color?"

"Red for the hair and-" Apollymi was turned in her hold and held up to eye level. "-grey for the eyes. Pretty ones too." Ella giggled with a twinkling smile. "Like wisps of smoke and fog. I've never seen features like this on people like her before."

Settled back into her previous position, Apollymi couldn't help but balk in annoyance at how that sentence was phrased. People like her? What was that supposed to mean?

And as time went on and she observed further she balked even more, she started to feel like she was a new prized cattle being inspected for flaws. And well, in a way she guessed she was.

"That's all we can get for now." The matron said as she slid the file back into the cabinet. "We'll continue this in the morning, go put the girl to sleep."

Looking torn Ella awkwardly cleared her throat.

"Matron? Where am I supposed to put her?" She asked. "All of the spaces are filled."

Pausing the Matron turned around.

"What are you talking about?" She questioned. "Place her with the other new arrival and that will be her spot."

"But Matron-!"

"Is there a problem Ella?" She interrupted with a raised brow and stern eyes.

For a second the mousy haired girl stared in silence before she exhaled and shook her head.

"No ma'am," She said lowly. "there isn't."

Giving a nod the Matron hummed. "Good, now run along. It will be a busy day come tomorrow."

Trudging defeatedly up the stairs Ella started down the hall with a worried Apollymi in her arms. What exactly was it about the baby she was supposed to sleep with that made this upbeat girl so jittery?

As Ella pushed open the door and strode over to the one crib that seemed to be separate from the rest, Apollymi began to understand.

"This, Apollymi, is Tom Marvolo Riddle. Your new sleeping buddy who I hope you can get along with." Setting her down next to the sleeping child Ella gave her a small smile and a tap on the nose.

"If it were up to me I would not place you here considering he has a habit of not liking bed partners." The girl said on a murmur as she cast a glance to the other sleeping baby. "But I don't have a choice."

If Apollymi didn't know any better she'd say that was pity in Ella's eyes.

"Welcome to Wool's Orphanage." And with that she disappeared from her sight.

Frozen stiff Apollymi, for the first time since being in this world, felt something akin to fear.

Now she knew what uneased poor sweet Ella. It was only the future Dark Lord.

She could only hope to whoever that she was a pureblood. Seeing how lavish her mother's place of stay was, it wouldn't be a stretch to assume so. But then again she hadn't heard of a Yorkshire family when exploring the fandom, so it was possible that she wasn't...

Shaking that thought from her head she sighed internally, it wouldn't do any good for her to stress herself over this. For all she knew it was an alias and she could end up being the heir to Ravenclaw or something like ol'Tommy. And speaking of which...

Steeling her nerves she risked a glance at Baby Mort and was surprised to come face to face with obsidian eyes. A pair of very awake obsidian eyes that seemed to bore straight into her soul.

Blinking she stifled the urge to scream. Now what was it people in Britain said when things went to absolute hell?

Ah yes. Bullocks.

This was absolute bullocks.

Apollymi for all her worldly experience, didn't know what to do. Should she look away first or would that be conceding defeat? Should she keep staring or would that be taken as a challenge?

Honestly how bad was her luck to end up in the same crib as Tom Marvolo Riddle, dark wizard extraordinaire?

Finally seeming to have had enough of their little contest Riddle rolled over and fell asleep, leaving her to gaze a hole in the back of his head.

Still confused Apollymi frowned, did she just go through some sort of test?

Well if she had she hoped she passed because even if he was not yet one she really didn't want a dark lordling out for her blood already. Especially if she was to stay with him for the next few years. Not to mention at Hogwarts (she was sure she would be invited) where he could exact revenge at his leisure with his future little Knights.

Apollymi would either stay entirely out of his way or attempt to get on his good side, but frankly the former option seemed impossible considering they were roomies and the latter nearly so since Lord Voldemort didn't simply like other human beings.

Shutting her eyes with a sigh she warily fell into the abyss of sleep because really, the Matron was right about it being late and she was due for her nap. After all, it was going to be a very busy day tomorrow.

Edit: 4/14/16

This rewrite is so much better! It provides much more information and it sets up the other chapters better.

A little info on Apollymi: She's mixed race, her mother being half black and half white and her father being white. She is visibly mixed race and that will factor into the story and how she deals with Tom's muggle hatred.