Ellison strode down a sidewalk in East London, the heels of her shoes clicking fiercely with each panicked step she took ...

She had left Saint Mungo's immediately, feigning an ailment she didn't have, though the sheet white complexion of her face had made her excuse quite believable. Neil's words had brought on a tightness in her chest she had never felt before. They had caused her stomach to wretch, and the walls of the hospital room to close in around her. She had needed to leave ... Had needed to get away as fast as she could ... To run away from the harsh reality those two words had engulfed her in.

Tom Riddle ... She had heard it clear as day. Tom Riddle was behind the disappearances. Tom Riddle was behind the tattered man that lay in the hospital. Tom Riddle was Voldemort. Ellison drew in a sharp breath, fighting the sickening feeling that coursed through her. It couldn't be true. Not Tom ... Not the boy she had known all those years ago ... The boy she had loved all those years ago.

But that was it, wasn't it? She replayed the words in her head - 'All those years ago.' Her time with Tom had come to an end nearly fifteen years ago. During those fifteen years she had only heard whispers of his whereabouts or what he was doing. On top of that, she had only saw him once in all that time, and that had only been for a brief moment outside her window. The realization of how little she knew about Tom Riddle hit her. Tom had been secretive during their time at Hogwarts, sure. And he had certainly been more inclined to the Dark Arts than most students. But was he capable of this?

Ellison thought back to the night in the Shrieking Shack. The night she had come face to face with the same werewolf that had left Neil nearly dead. Tom had been meeting with Grayback, and others he never told her about, that night.

Her relationship with Tom had made it easy to look past that night, and so many others like it. And, if she were honest, she hadn't wanted to connect the pieces of the puzzle then ... not really. But now ... Now every moment she had willed herself to ignore ... Every conversation she had forced herself to forget ... All of it was rushing back to the forefront of her mind. And the evidence was damning. How had she not seen it all those years ago? Then again, maybe she had. Maybe she had ignored it as she had so many other things.

Ellison shook the muddled thoughts away and rounded the corner onto the street her parents lived. Her mother wouldn't be expecting her to pick up the girls for nearly four more hours, but she needed to see them. She needed to wrap them in her arms and forget the nightmare she had been living for the last hour.

"Ellison?" A voiced called out from behind her. She turned around, a tall, lanky man with dark hair coming into view.

"I'm sorry ..." Ellison began, trying to place the stranger's face. "Do I ..."

"Lastrange," the man spoke, "From school?"

"Oh," Ellison stammered, raising her eyebrows. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry. Merlin, what's it been?" she continued absentmindedly.

"Fifteen years?" Lastrange answered with a pleasant smile.

"Yes," Ellison laughed, returning his smile, "I suppose it has. How have you been?"

"I've been quite well, and yourself?"

"I've been alright," Ellison replied. "Well ... It was wonderful to see you" she continued after an awkward pause, glancing in the direction of her parent's house, "But I really should be getting on. I'm supposed to be picking up my daughters." With a smile she turned on her heel.

"Calla and Ella is it?" Lastrange called from behind her. Ellison froze, her stomach wretching forward. Slowly, she turned around to face him. Lastrange stood before her still wearing the same pleasant expression he had been. "I think you should come with me," he continued, his tone icier now.

Ellison's eyes narrowed. "Why should I do that?" She asked, reaching around reflexively to the bag that held her wand.

"You'll come with me," Lastrange began matter-of-factly, eyeing her hand. "For their sakes," He added, nodding his head in the direction of her parent's home. She dropped her hand to her side, the knot in her stomach tightening.

"What do you want?" she asked, clenching her jaw tightly, biting back the panic radiating throughout her body.

"Well for starters, you can hand over that bag of yours," Lastrange replied. Resentfully, Ellison dropped the bag from her shoulder and held it out. Lastrange took it, stowing it in the leather satchel he had draped over his own shoulder. "Very good, now lets go."

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Okay guys! It's a bit rushed but here's Chapter 4! Let me know what you think! I'd love your votes and feedback! :)