Wisdom and Victory {Fred Weasley}

Chapter 11

Reason number six hundred and twelve why I'd be a horrible parent: I laugh whenever a child gets steam mixed up with smoke :)

Victoria frowned at the barren page of her notebook, which she had hoped would be crammed full of information by the end of her trip, but was instead only half full. And she'd written in big writing. Scowling further, she read once again through what she'd discovered. He was an orphan, for one. He'd lived at Wool's Orphanage from birth until he'd turned eighteen, and there wasn't so much as a trace on his birth certificate. There was a name in the bottom, of the midwife who'd delivered it, but she doubted very much that it was memorable, let alone the woman was still alive.

The police report, although taken out on a whim, had offered her some satisfaction, and a possible place to search next. It stated that the bodies of the deceased had been unmarked and unharmed, with the autopsy comments stating that the best possible explanation was that they'd died of fear. A photograph, grainy and black and white, had been enclosed. It show d a handsome man of around thirty or forty, lying stiff in a gurney with a twisted expression of horror painted upon his features. It sounded to Victoria like the Killing Curse, a cause of death no muggle would think to contemplate. Little Hangleton Manor House, the report had said, with no signs of forced entry. So that was where she was headed to next, and shortly after that would be Wool's Orphanage, in the vague and whimsical hope that somebody might remember something or have some dusty old file for her.

Taking the ink-free muggle quill with her, she handed in the two extracted files, that were meticulously looked-over, before heading back out into the busy street that ran alongside the river. It was past lunchtime now, and Victoria thought she might as well head home, when the flick of a cloak in the crowds caught her attention. A flash of blond darted ahead of her, and she lowered her head, heading down an empty side street to disapparate.

A hand took her arm.

Victoria felt like she was being pulled through a tight tube, a feeling she knew well to be side-along apparation. Her feet collided with the firm stone driveway and she pulled her wand from its place, firing upon her kidnapper in a string of silent stunning charms. Why had she joined Dumbledore's Army again? She didn't really need it. Oh, to get close to Harry.

She soon saw that her attacker had been none other than Narcissa Malfoy, who was successfully blocking her spells, but making no attempt to do anything other than disarm her. A knockback jinx hit Victoria in the small of her back and she flew forward, splayed in the mud with her cheek stinging. She whirled round from laying on her front, aware that she was now splattered with mud, and raised her wand once more, only for it to fling itself from her hand and into that of Lucius Malfoy. She tightened her jaw, gritting her teeth. "Very honourable, attacking a student from behind while it's two on one."

He ignored her, striding forward and pulling her to her feet, his grip tight and bruising. She tried to shake him off, but his fingers only dug in tighter, feeling like a vice. They followed his wife up the steps and into the enormous manor house, not uttering a word to one another or to Victoria. She glanced around, identifying portraits and stairways that she could look for to find her way out. She brought her fingertips up to her stinging cheek, but there was no blood; she'd only grazed it.

Mrs Malfoy held the a door to their left open, and Mr Malfoy walked her swiftly through it. Inside was a small library, the walls lined with leather-bound volumes. There was a small table by the window, and two large leather sofas next to the fireplace, which crackled welcomingly.

The figure in front of the fireplace, however, was not welcoming. Victoria felt her breath freeze in her chest, and she unsuccessfully tried to shake off Mr Malfoy again. Tom Riddle did not turn around upon their entry, nor did he show any sign of knowing they were there. He simply stared into the amber flames, casting shadows across the carpeted floor.

"Leave us," he said, and if Victoria had been an idiot she would have shuddered.

Mrs Malfoy made no move from where she stood by the open door, and Mr Malfoy shuffled nervously. "My Lord-" he began in protest, but was cut off but the sharp turn of Tom Riddle's head, casting a terrifying and piercing glare across the room. Victoria couldn't help but gasp at his appearance. His nose was simply a pair of slits, and his eyes were a harsh red that gave the overall appearance of some inhuman monster. His skin, though unblemished, was grey and looked like it had died long ago. She swallowed, shuffling again, but Mr Malfoy still didn't release her.

"Leave us," said Riddle once more, his voice a slow and low hiss. Mr Malfoy released her and followed his wife out the library, the door closing behind them with a firm click. Victoria couldn't help but wish they'd stayed.

Tom Riddle turned around, his back to the fire now, staring intently at Victoria. His gaze was analytical and calculating, and she knew he was waiting for something to happen. Most likely for her to cry or attack him or something equally stupid. Well aware of the powers of legillimens, Victoria forced her self to look away, although she didn't want to remove her eyes from the murderous creature before her. She did not look down, in a way that may be submissive, but to her right, staring at a red book on one of the shelves.

He took a step forward, and Victoria flinched unwillingly. Her stomach was rolling and churning, her throat constricted, her heart fluttering and her palms sweating. Out the corner of her eye, she watched as his lips curved into a smile, though not one of joy. One of satisfaction. "I am under the impression," said Riddle, "That you wish to help me?"

Victoria certainly didn't want to help him. At this moment, she didn't want to help anyone or do anything. She wanted to be back at Hogwarts, practicing quidditch drills and ploughing through the library shelves. She cursed herself and her meddling, her curiosity. She didn't want to die, not here, not now, not betraying her mother's trust. She nodded, stiffly and shaking.

"And how would you do that?"

Victoria waited before she spoke, refusing to stammer. "I'm friends with Harry Potter."

Surprisingly, he nodded at this, seeming pleased. Victoria couldn't help but wonder why he was so invested in the demise of a schoolboy. "Good friends?"

"We play quidditch together." That was now utter dragon dung, but how would he know that? "And we have a study group." She'd helped him with transfiguration once, and she was a regular attendee of Dumbledore's Army. All she could do was hope, hope that he would allow her to leave this room alive. Although she could see no way out where she would be unharmed.

"You could place the imperious curse on him?" asked Ridde, now only three feet away from her, and staring at her intently while she avoided his eyes.

Victoria didn't answer right away. Say yes and she would be expected to do so. Say no, and certain death. "Dumbledore would notice," she said quietly, hoping to Merlin that she hadn't pushed too far.

Tom Riddle became even more pleased as these words left her mouth, an utterance to revoke a death sentence. He swept away, back towards the fire, facing away from her once more.

"You show promise, Victoria McGonagall," he said eventually. "Initiative, courage. Things I value highly." Victoria remained silent. "Why were you visiting the muggle records office today?"

Victoria felt as her breath caught in her throat, and the room swayed around her. "Research project," she mumbled vaguely. "Blood purity."

"Not searching for your parentage?"

Victoria did not allow herself to look relieved at his lack of suspicion. Nor did she allow her mind to wonder how he knew she too was an orphan. "My blood purity," she corrected. She watched as he nodded, still looking into the fire. "I didn't find anything." She already knew both her parents were magical, given that she was conceived at Hogwarts. What an odd thought. What if it was in her dorm? That was weird. She shook it from her mind.

"Lucius will show you out," said Riddle eventually. "We will be in touch."