Chapter 1: The Birth

Rain was pouring down on Auradon. It had been a month now since the end of the Pride Games. One would think that after the insanity that everyone had endured, they could enjoy a sunny summer vacation. But sadly, a week's worth of rain started off the season.

It wasn't much of a problem for Céline Flamel. As a witch and traveling journalist, she was used to fighting rain in any place she went to find great information for a story. Right now, she braved the rain and made her way through one of the suburban neighborhoods of the city. She reached a yellow row house, the only one in the neighborhood painted in a rather mustardy color. Her finger reached out for the doorbell underneath the label VILLENEUVE PUBLISHERS and got welcomed inside by the housekeeper of the Muggle awaiting her.

"I was glad you could make it, Ms. Flamel," the Muggle greeted her kindly in his office. He gestured her to sit down on the velvet seat facing his desk. The housekeeper offered to hang Ms. Flamel's coat up kindly declined and used her wand to dry herself up.

"So?" Ms. Flamel sat down on the chair.

The Muggle placed his hand on the manuscript that rested on his desk. "I have read your proposed work. Four times. First for the sake of editing, second because I found it unbelievable, third because I ended up with so many questions, and finally because I read it to the rest of my publishing board."

"And what did they make of it?"

"They were just as dumbfounded as I was. It makes us wonder if everything we know about history and magic is true." The Muggle glanced at a framed newspaper hanging above his chimney, its headline and picture proudly showing the news that Penna De Mort and Prince Marius Bogfae were engaged and would marry once they finished building the new international wizarding school. "At the same time, it makes me wonder how she could have endured such horrors."

"I can assure you, Mr. Cook, that unlike some wizarding journalists or reporters who pride themselves in yellow journalism, I take my research seriously. I traced Pénélope's adventures throughout the world, I investigated every place she went to in order to collect artifacts or create legends, I visited her old, abandoned birth home, and I asked any living Hogwarts staff or alumni for anything valuable. She knew me as one of her rare closest friends."
Mr. Cook nodded and slightly slouched on his seat. "The board thinks that your book could become a great best-seller and teach our society to rethink past unfair judgments. Though I'm still curious... Why decide to write a biography about Voldemort's daughter and why release it now?"

"Truth be told, I initially aimed to wait until she passed away to publish it since the most famous witches and wizards got their biographies published after death. But before I called you, Pénélope and I had a discussion over tea: inevitably, if I waited such a long time to write her story, the book would be too massive and no one would take interest in it. She also brought up how her old mentor got a biography published by a yellow journalist after he died. The context was negative, but it revealed sincere truths that the readers never wanted to believe. Pénélope thinks that her mentor chose to let the truth be read after his death because he wanted people to be independent from their despair."

"Because they needed to move on, knowing that he could no longer protect them?"

"Yes. Or perhaps that he could only admit his shameful secrets once he was dead. But Pénélope is different. She still feels like people should be protected from her and maybe this book will give them an idea of why they should."

Mr. Cook nodded. "It is always difficult for a pained person to expose themselves."

"Especially when one would know that her life started as such on a rainy day in June." Ms. Flamel looked towards the only window in the office. The rain was getting worse outside. "A night, dare I say it, just like this one."

June 6th, 1900

My little Penelope.

It was like a whisper in the darkness. It almost sounded like it was dying.

The new life felt like she was being touched.

Oh, I'm sorry I won't be there for you. But never forget how much I love you...

Something odd went through her. It was as if the whispering words went through the new life's veins and into her heart. She heard a breath fail, something snap, and what sounded like wind blowing a cloud away.

She felt herself being bundled up by something warm. She still felt the water and blood from the ocean of darkness she had swam in for a while. She opened her eyes. Someone was holding her, but she couldn't clearly see the person's face. Honestly, things were still so blurry.

"Here is Penelope Svjetla Marvolo Riddle. You'd better take care of her." The person who held her put her in somebody else's hold. As if the second person's cold touch served as an electric shock, the little baby's vision cleared and she saw the first scariest thing of her life: a lavender-skinned man with three horrifying horns, hair made of smoke, clothes darker than shadows, and eyes more blue than ice.

Penelope immediately cried the moment she was placed in her father's arms. She cried, wishing that the dying whisper or whoever held her previously could come back for her. She wanted to go back to the ocean of darkness she was previously in. But instead, she was condemned to be carried by the vile man whose blood flowed in her as he brought her down a staircase. Her screams echoed with the water dripping from the ceiling.

"Open," her father hissed at something standing in the way. A door opened up and he stepped inside some dark chamber more than 10 feet below the building's catacombs. "Basilisks!"

"Master."

The infant kept crying, so she could not see who had called the cruel man their master.

"Here!" Penelope got shoved off his grasp very coldly and into something... strange. That was the best way for her to put it. "Unless I'm teaching her to use the Dark Arts, she's your responsibility!"

"But Master, she's your daughter!" One of the new voices exclaimed.

Let us change perspective, outside of what the poor infant was experiencing. Voldemort, her father, had pretty much dumped her into the curled tail of a basilisk and left the duty of wet nurse to lethal, giant snakes and made his way out of the chamber. Seeing as they had no need to stay in their monstrous forms in the presence of the infant, the giant basilisk holding her shrunk and changed to become a grey-skinned man covered by a big mass of snakeskin for clothing and keeping his golden serpentine eyes. He ripped off some of his 'rags' and used it to wipe off the goo that was still on the baby.

"There, there, little one," he said soothingly. "We'll take good care of you."

The infant stopped crying but kept whimpering.

"Poor dear. She must have sensed that her father holds no love for her." The basilisk's mate, who had green skin, held out her finger and dried out the infant's tears. The small thing began to smile until she began to cry again. "Slytherin spare us, what has the master done this time to her?"

"She's hungry, my love. Call our children and tell them to bring back live goats to milk."

Half an hour later

Basilisks are fast hunters and everyone knows that. The ones living underneath Voldemort's home were know for hunting livestock from nearby farms and bringing them back to their den to feast on. Naturally, the trick was that this time, they had to bring the goats alive and resist the temptation.

The two basilisks assigned as 'wet nurses' had a litter of their own, an estimated amount of ten children at the most. Each brought back as much goats as they could, rounding them up in a makeshift pen. They began to wonder why their parents wanted to use the goats for milking when they saw the father adding the finishing touches to a bassinette made out of weaved snakewood and snakeskin bed sheets.

"Why won't the Dark Lord take care of his own daughter, Mum?" One of the youngest asked while the mother basilisk milked the closest brown goat she could find.

"Frankly, even snakes as venomous as cobras take better care of their eggs." One of the eldest snorted.

"Well, the Dark Lord isn't a snake. He's a human who doesn't understand or feel love." The mother basilisk finished milking the goat and brought it to a cauldron to boil it and add some herbs for flavor. "This little one is different. Her mother gave her love before dying. There might be hope in her."

"Of being a good human?"

"Of not becoming a monster like her father," the father basilisk said. He turned his head to see one of his middle children looking at the baby from over the crib. "Watch it, Bloodyle! The baby is only a few hours old and not something to eat! The Dark Lord will kill us all if it were to happen!"

"But she's so cute! And look at those big blue eyes she has!" Bloodyle, who looked like she had the physique of a ten-year-old Muggle, reached out for the baby and stuck out her finger to caress the soft pale skin made of flesh. It was so much different from the thousands of snake scales that basilisks had.

The mother basilisk poured the prepared milk in a bottle. "Since you seem to find her appealing, perhaps you'd like to be the first to feed her?"

Bloodyle nodded eagerly and carefully picked up the baby. The mother basilisk gave her biological daughter the bottle and instructed her to bring it as close as possible to the little mouth. As soon as the small thing sensed the presence of the bottle's teat, she bit down on it with her toothless mouth and gluttonously sucked in the milk.

"Do human babies normally drink that fast?" One of the startled younger basilisks asked.

"It's probably just her half-breed nature. Difference in species' metabolism," the father basilisk shrugged.

In less than thirty seconds, the baby had finished her milk. A small burp escaped her mouth.

"Bless you," Bloodyle giggled as she put the bottle down.

...

Seasons came and went. Summer dissolved into autumn, bringing the colorful shades of red in the countryside where Voldemort's estate was located.

An incident happened to the Dark Lord sometime in July and was recovering in the utmost solitude. For the Death Eaters, it meant a boring time that they could only fill up by killing Muggles in their sleep. For the basilisks, however, it meant more outdoor space. With the Muggles trying to cover themselves up and try to avoid going out too much with the below cool weather, it was a great to slither their serpentine bodies and go explore the thick glens surrounding the territory of the Dark Lord.

Penelope was around 4-months old by the time her 'wet nurses' decided to go on a family outing in the glens in the dusk of an October day. They had fed her well and she looked neither too skinny nor too plump. Thick tuffs of black and teal blue hair strands grew to her ears and unlike most babies, all her baby teeth were inside her mouth. She still drank the milk that the mother basilisk prepared for her but since late August, the father basilisk decided it was probably time to introduce Penelope to 'actual food'. Of course, they couldn't teach a human baby to swallow food like they do, so they consented with hunting local field mice, garden lizards, sparrows, eggs, and neighboring adders to cook up their meats, mix it with vegetables found in the castle kitchens, and create a form of purée for Penelope to eat.

For the moment, Penelope seemed to be content with the first months of her life. She barely saw her 'creator' ever since his 'accident with some filthy half-blood' as one of the Death Eaters put it, which made her spend more time with the basilisks, whom she tolerated much better. Bloodyle was by far her favorite. After her own parents, she was the one who gave the most attention to Penelope. She'd feed her, she'd clean her, she'd tuck her in, she tried her best to snatch stuff from outside to make makeshift toys for the baby, and tell her bedtime stories in the same hissing language Voldemort had used to open the basilisks' chamber.

"Look at that, Pen!" Bloodyle pointed at the flock of dragonflies flying around the pond in the glen the serpent family had gone to this evening. "Dragonflies are very pretty and very yummy."

Penelope laughed and waved her little arms towards the dragonflies. Bloodyle stepped into the pond and held Penelope close enough to try touching the bugs. As soon as Penelope managed to poke one, it glowed and turned into a jeweled dragonfly. The baby laughed, clapped, and continued to poke more passing dragonflies. The whole herd of them flew above the water like earthly stars.

"Her magic is beginning to bloom," the basilisk father commented as he and his mate relaxed on a pile of leaves in their snake form.

"I hope you don't think she'll end up using it against us!" The mother basilisk looked at him in shock.

"We've been the closest thing to her than a family, of course she wouldn't. But I dread I might have overheard something I shouldn't have."

"The pipes in the castle have such an echoing effect, we know everything the master and his followers talk about."

"True, but I overheard the Crouch fellow letting it slip that the master has planned something for Penelope once her magic comes out. He... plans to have her create Horcruxes on her birthdays."

"But she's too young! Does the master expect her to be capable of murder when she can't even yet say her first human word?" The mother basilisk spat some venom at a nearby field mouse, not out of hunger but out of anger. "He refuses to spend time with her unless he has some use of her, the Death Eaters are too scared to approach her, and besides from our family, the only person who bothers to come down to visit us and spend some time with the baby is Nagini."

The basilisk parents watched as Bloodyle kept playing with Penelope in her arms while their other children either amused themselves in swimming the pond to hunt for frogs or camouflage themselves under the leaves. "Well look at it this way, my love," the father basilisk said. "She's better here than with one of those Muggle-hugging wizards."

They continued to watch their children play. Some among the youngest snickered as the nearby spiders fled into the dark woods full of pine. One of the children, however, narrowed his eyes as he could have sworn he saw close to six distant lights.

To be specific, they were the six distant lights coming from six wands of six approaching wizards.

"Mum! Pup!" He called out to his parents. "Aurors approaching!"

Without hesitation, the adults immediately summoned their children. "Split up and head to the castle. We'll meet up in the chamber," the father basilisk ordered.

Soon, the family dispersed. With a mist covering the earth in the glen, they could easily slither away without being seen. Since she was carrying Penelope, Bloodyle resorted to running in her human appearance. She shushed Penelope as the baby seemed to begin to whimper.

Bloodyle was midway to approaching the castle when she realized that the Aurors were getting closer to her. She paused, looked around, and found a good tree full of thick foliage. She carefully climbed up and sat on a branch well hidden.

"We're playing hide-and-seek." Bloodyle put a finger over her lips, telling the baby to do the same.

"The Trace ends here my friends," a voice came up. Bloodyle held Penna close to her.

"Your wand's full of house-elf earwax, there's nothing here," one of the other Aurors spoke up. "Besides, what business would an underage wizard have in trolling the woods near You-Know-Who's house?"

"Considering that Mad-Eye Moody didn't show up, it must not be serious."

Oh, good Lord, Bloodyle mentally prayed.

Penelope let out a small whimper, making Bloodyle freeze.

"Did you fellows here something?"

"Sure did. Whoever's out here, come out! You're surrounded!"

Bloodyle blinked her eyes, hiding their golden shade with a normal brown one. What some wizards failed to acknowledge in basilisk biology is that they have a particular nictitating membrane. Since basilisks can occasionally take a humanoid appearance, they'll use that membrane to hide their eyes, for everyone knows that staring in the golden eyes of a basilisk leads to certain. Well, only a descendant of Salazar Slytherin would be unaffected, so Voldemort and Penelope were immune.

Taking her guts, Bloodyle wrapped her tail around her waist to make it pass off as a belt. She held on to Penelope and climbed her way down. The six Aurors, four wizards and two witches, pointed their wands at her.

"I'm terribly sorry," she said to them in human English. "You got us all scared up, we hid in this tree."

"We apologize," one of the witches said. She kept her wand out, but slightly lowered it. "The Trace detectors alerted us about the use of underage magic. Did you use magic by any chance?"

"I'm afraid I don't. I'm only ten and despite being half-breed, I'm a Squib," Bloodyle easily lied. "My family and I came out for an evening picnic in the woods and we mistook the distant glow of your wands for Patronus charms. We fled thinking Dementors were on the loose."

"Oh, we're terribly sorry!" The witch put away her wand. "We didn't mean to give you a fright. But you shouldn't be out all alone. You're near the territory of You-Know-Who."

"I'll be more careful." Bloodyle said. "Well, I know the way home. I should be on my way."

Bloodyle began to walk away but one of the male wizards stood in her way. Bloodyle feared that he didn't believe her. He leaned down and looked at Penelope, who was still whimpering in Bloodyle's arms.

"That is one interesting baby," he remarked. "How old is she?"

"4 months."
"Really." He frowned. "She has all her baby teeth out."

"I don't see what's so odd about a baby having all her teeth out," Bloodyle said.

"Is she your sister?"

This was getting on the line of burning coals. The Auror was not convinced. "I think it'd be safer if we brought you with us for the night or until we can come in contact with your parents. It's not safe for underage half-breeds to walk in those woods."

"We can take care of ourselves."

She began to regret the cold tone she had used. Now the Aurors began to look suspicious.

"Did the baby produce any magic of the sort?" The wizard demanded.

Penelope was getting tense in Bloodyle's arms. Thinking quick on her feet, Bloodyle unleashed her tail and hit the wizard right on the stomach. She ducked to avoid the Aurors shooting spells in an attempt to immobilize her.

"Do not let the infant get hit!" the wizard warned as he got up.

Bloodyle turned to face the other five Aurors. She folded out her nictitating membrane. It was all so quick, the Aurors let out screams that lasted a few seconds before they crumbled on the ground, struck by her deadly glare. She turned to face the other wizard, but he was gone. And Penelope was beginning to cry.

"Let's not tell anyone about what happened," Bloodyle shushed Penelope and ran back home.

Elsewhere

The wizard who managed to flee from Bloodyle had managed to apparate himself all the way to Scotland, in the office of a fellow wizard he was supposed to meet up with.

"I thought it was impossible when you told me, but I saw it with my eyes," he said. "The Dark Lord has reproduced. Why else was a basilisk turning itself into a human and walking around his territory with a baby?"

"What did she look like?" the other wizard asked. "The infant."

"I'd say rather healthy. Small blue eyes and locks of black and blue hair. All her teeth are out." he shook his head. "We can't just leave her with the Dark Lord! I mean, I myself think it's a miracle that he just leaves a species of magical creatures to raise his own child when they could have eaten her in one gulp!"

"Yes, but if we just took her from him, he'd hunt her down and kill whoever stands in the way," the other wizard remarked wisely. "And if the Ministry of Magic realizes that he has reproduced before she turns eleven, they'll seek to harm her most. Azkaban is no place for her and she would not fit hidden among Muggles. She must stay with her father."

...

Autumn flew away to be replaced by winter's showers of snow. Bloodyle told no one of the encounter with the Aurors and everyone believed her story of being delayed by wandering Muggles.

The Dark Lord had managed to fully recover himself after New Year's Eve. Since only half a year remained before Penelope's first birthday, he began to come down once a day to see how she was getting better. Penelope still grew faster than the children her age: if she got all her first teeth out when she was 4 months old, she was able to take her first steps when she was 5 months old (though the mother and father basilisks let her rest her little hands on their giant snake selves for support), and by the time she was 6 to 7 months old, her first words came out. They were not human words of course, but it's a miracle that at her age, she'd be so fluent at saying words in perfect Parseltongue.

Voldemort only came down to see if she had been showing signs of magic yet, and to his pleasure, most of his visits were fruitful. The infant wasn't aware of how she was doing it, but the basilisks noticed that sometimes her magic reacted depending on her emotions. Her 'first tricks' included touching dead leaves and inadvertently bringing new sprouts to life or reviving dead pig fetus that the basilisks had hunted.

"Has she performed any actual spells?" Voldemort asked the father basilisk.

"No. She doesn't know how to speak the human language yet, but she does well in communicating with us and the local snakes."

"Nothing grand other than the trivialities I've just seen?"

"No, master," the basilisk shook his head. "She did manage to open the door of the chamber by speaking Parseltongue. We had to keep her from going up the stairs to your castle by accident."

Voldemort scowled at the information, for he did not like the idea of this creation attempting to run away from him. "Then begin to teach her how to speak in fluent wizarding words and get her to articulate spells! I plan to have her cast a Killing Curse on a Muggle on her birthday."

The basilisk hissed in fury. "She's too young to perform such magic and you'd put her in a higher chance of being noticed by the Ministry of Magic! You'd actually let your own child be taken by those Muggle-huggers, or worse, placed in Azkaban?"

"Oh, please!" Voldemort rolled his eyes and crossed his arms behind his back. "If she can survive the raid of six Aurors with one of your children around, she'll be able to deal with Unforgivable Curses." He made his way out. "I expect her to know her English at the least. And by the way, give my praise to Bloodyle."

As the father basilisk watched his master leave, he realized that Bloodyle had lied to him. He went to find her in the chamber's pool, teaching Penelope the basic of swimming. When Bloodyle saw the expression her parent, she knew immediately that she was in for trouble. After getting one of her older siblings to play with Penna, she followed her father and they were later joined by his mate in one of the most secluded areas of the chamber.

"Bloodyle, did you kill six Aurors?" The father basilisk demanded. "The master somehow knew that you did it!"

"It was on that October night... when Penelope poked the dragonflies..." Bloodyle bit her mouth. "I tried to make the way back, but the wizards caught up. We tried to hide, but they noticed we were there. I almost managed to get away with lying that we lost track of time when one of them got, but then one seemed overly curious about Penelope. I hit him with my tail and stare-killed the others, but when I turned, he was gone."

"Oh, no." The mother basilisk cupped her hand over her mouth. "You should have told us, Bloodyle. Why didn't you?"

"I didn't want to scare you!" Bloodyle sighed miserably. "Who do I fool? I feared that you wouldn't let me continue taking care of Penelope if I didn't protect her from the Aurors!"

Her father looked at her in a frustrated glare before sighing in exasperation. He reached out and tucked some loose hair behind his child's ear. "I'd have to be as stupid as a Muggle to stop you from taking care of Penelope. But promise me that you'll be more careful if it ever happens again."

Bloodyle sighed in relief and hugged her father.

"But if one of the Aurors escaped, that means the Ministry knows of her," the mother basilisk pointed out.

"I dread the master's plans for Penelope more than I fear the Auror." Her mate revealed what the Dark Lord told to him.

"So the Crouch fellow wasn't passing on false rumors! He does want Penna to create a Horcrux by killing a Muggle!"

"What's a Horcrux?" Bloodyle asked.

Her parents turned her head to hear someone apparate in the shadows. "Forgive me," the intruder spoke, "but I might know something that could save Penelope from the same fate as her father. It won't stop her from getting a Horcrux, but it will save her from losing her humanity."

The basilisk mother snorted. "We're really falling low, accepting your help while you walk your merry way into your enemy's own house."

"But if it will help Penelope, then we must accept." The mother basilisk nodded.

They waited until it was time to tuck the children to bed. The parents brought with them the intruder, cloaked to hide his appearance. They stepped inside the nursery where Penelope slept, just in time: Bloodyle had just tucked her in bed.

"Thank you, Bloodyle." The intruder nodded his head kindly. Bloodyle made room for him and he knelt down to have a better look at the child in the bed. "Hello, Penelope."

The six-month old infant let out a small happy sound the moment she saw the stranger. She had never met him in her life, but one look at him and the baby knew right away that the stranger was much better than her creator. She laughed as his index finger reached out to tickle her chest. Her small hands grabbed his finger and she slightly nibbled it with her mouth.

"Precious thing," he smiled. "Your mother's love still flows in you." He flipped his hand to create a small cloud of glitter hovering above the little face. She let go of his finger as she was curious of the little cloud.

"My dear Penelope, daughter of Svjetla and Tom," he said. "To ensure that you do not become a monster like your father, these are three gifts that you must always keep at heart." He fidgeted his fingers and the glitter cloud changed to make layers of blue, pink, and red like some kind of fruit-flavored cotton candy. "First, you will never hate a parentless child. Second, you will remember who is the true cause of your faults. And third, you must NEVER forget that you have the one thing that your father doesn't have: love." He let out a soft blow and the cloud landed in a glitter puff on the baby. As the gifts went in her, she yawned and immediately went to sleep.

And just like that, the stranger apparated away from the nursery.