Four children were at a park. One of them was sitting on a swing, only moving slightly, her swing going back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, in the wind. Three boys were passing, and one spoke up.

"Hey, who is that?"

"You don't know? That's the Riddle girl!"

"That's her?"

"We need to go!"

"Don't make eye contact!"

"Don't speak to her!"

Florentina sighed. She was used to this kind of treatment, but it felt worse after going to her school. Florentina Riddle was not normal, just like her school was not normal. Florentina Riddle was a witch. A witch who went to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had finished her first year only months ago; the picture of Voldemort was still fresh on her mind. He had gotten into school only just at the end of this little witch's first year at Hogwarts. It was chaos.

Florentina, or, as her friends (Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Valerie) called her, Flora, had made it to the room in the back with Harry, containing Professor Quirrel and the Mirror of Erised. Long story short, Harry had retrieved the Sorcerer's Stone through the mirror, and Voldemort, who had been inside Quirrel, had ordered the Professor to attack Harry. Now, of course, Flora wasn't going to watch her best friend get murdered by Voldemort. No, the so-called "Riddle girl" fought the Dark Lord, facing many people's white-faced, red-eyed murderer. Flora faced the one and only You-Know-Who with fury, courage, and determination as her only weapons. But luck was on this witch's side that night. Fury, courage, and determination. Those very things were the best weapons in that fight, that war. Remember those words, for they are words that will be repeated, required, and requested.

Fury, courage, and determination.

Flora had cold fury to face the one she thought of as death to many people. Courage led her through the darkness and to it's very source, it's very leader. Determination gave her strength, and helped her in the presence of fear and battle. Idiotic, though it was, to take on such a evil, powerful dark wizard, Flora was still alive. This, she thought, was a gift, lowered from the heavens into Florentina Riddle's very arms.

Florentina Riddle was a pure-blood. This meant she was from a wizarding family, though she never knew her parents. Her wand was twelve inches, made of spruce, with a dragon heartstring core. She owned two pets. A ginger cat named Grardius, and a snowy owl named Petal, after the daisy field she had seen through her window. And one thing about this Riddle girl — who amazed even herself with the ability — was that she was a Animagus.

The most amazing part was that she had had this ability as long as she could remember. Ever since she first woke up in the orphanage, ever since she had been brought to the Narizarra's, ever since she had shown her first signs of magic, ever since she first got a letter, written in emerald green ink, sealed with a badger, a eagle, a serpent, and a lion, forming the elegant letter 'H' with their skin, bones, and very flesh, addressed to Florentina S. Riddle, inviting her to a dazzling school with magic, feasts, friends, and fires in the dormitories and a kitchen of foods, breakfast, lunch, dinner, and desert, rooms of unimaginable joys, sorrows, and surprises, and a library of hundreds of books and newspapers and interesting reads of every type, like Transfiguration, DADA, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Potions, then on things like Quidditch, or — well, there's so many books....

The point was that she was being invited into paradise. Florentina loved books and reading. She read a lot. Actually, that's a understatement.

When the little witch's Animagus form took place and she wasn't exactly human, Flora was a cat. A black cat. A sneaky cat. A cat that had green eyes not unlike the color of the human's inside who owned them. Florentina had not been very popular until the end of last year, after the surprises. Little did anyone, especially Florentina, know that the surprises of the previous year were only just the beginning of much suffering and unhappiness. That awaits later, in the horrible and terrifying future of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Florentina.

As Florentina walks home, she decides to try to act normal from then to when her trunk is packed and she stood on platform nine-and-three-quarters, her owl hooting, cat meowing, and the gleaming scarlet train, Hogwarts Express, sat, smoke coming from it, ready to take them home.

And so she did.