Before I even begin, it is important to note that this story runs canon, only through the middle of fourth year. Cedric never made it to the Cup, but rather was attacked mid-way through the maze. Only Harry witnessed Voldemort's rebirth.

On a secondary note, Voldemort is slightly different than in the books. I can't say why. You'll have to read to find out the reason.

Chapter 1: Story Time

An eleven year-old red-headed girl looked out at the blackened sky, her eyes transfixed on the glimmering brilliance of the stars above. From her perch on the balcony, she could just faintly make out her favorite constellation. She traced the stars with a pale finger before hearing the piercing call of her mother. "Sweetheart! It's time for you to go to bed!" the voice called from what sounded like the first floor. "You have a big day tomorrow."

"Yes Mother!" she called. Pulling the balcony doors shut as she came past, the girl wondered what tomorrow would bring. Her first day at Hogwarts; a day every eleven year-old looked forward to with great anticipation. She wanted more than anything to attend the school her parents spoke so fondly of over the years. The way her mother and father spoke of Hogwarts made it seem as if Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the most magical place in the world. And, she wanted more than anything to attend; to have a firsthand account of the school her parents loved so much would make her life complete.

The girl pulled her silk nightgown over her head and ran downstairs, only to run straight into her mother. She was less than pleased to see her daughter; the obviousness of this assessment was written on her mother's face. It was same one her grandmother used. "Buttercup, what are you doing down here?" her mother asked. "If you wish to be well rested for tomorrow, you must march your butt right upstairs; otherwise, your father and I will keep you home."

Buttercup shook her head, her bright red hair whipping across her face. "No!" she cried, her lower lip quivering at the prospect of what her beloved mother suggested. "Don't do that!" The thought of not being able to attend the school she dreamed so much about frightened her.

"Upstairs with you then," her mother insisted.

"I…I…I…wanted…to…ask you something," Buttercup stammered.

"And, what is that?" she asked.

"I was hoping that you might tell me a story before I go to bed tonight," Buttercup stated. "Tonight's my last night at home, and I was hoping it might be a way for me to remember you and Father." It was a small request, one Buttercup knew her mother could fulfill.

Her mother let out a low sigh. Buttercup could see a small smile on her mother's face, and a knowing grin made its way to her own face with the knowledge that she would get what she asked for. "Okay, Buttercup. I just need to go see what your father is doing. Go upstairs and get in bed; I'll be up there in a few minutes to tell you a story, one I think you'll enjoy."

Buttercup hurried off, tearing up the stairs. In anticipation of both tomorrow and finding out what story she would be told, she ran. Upon settling herself underneath silken white sheets and a fluffy white comforter, Buttercup propped herself up against a pillow to listen to the story. "What's the story tonight?" she asked when her mother came strolling into the room.

A bright gleam in the woman's dark brown eyes could be seen as she pulled up a chair towards her daughter's bed. "This is a story I'm quite fond of, one that I have yet to tell you." She sighed softly. "I never intended on telling you this story quite yet—wanting to wait until you were a little older—but your father wants it told now, before you enter Hogwarts tomorrow."

Knowing her father, he had to have a good reason for this story to be told now. The man was never one to do things without thinking things through. Buttercup wondered what the reason for this particular story being told was. "What the story called?" she asked her mother.

"The Witch Bride."