The Fearsome Name of Riddle

Generational Rivals

Cold January winds blew through the stands that surrounded the Hogwarts quidditch pitch as cheering crowds of students stood on the wooden platforms. It was Gryffindor vs Slytherin. A rivalry that started with the founders of their houses. The whole school was ready to watch them face off for the first time that year. Tom watched from the front row, a green scarf wrapped around his neck as the smell of the freshly fallen snow filled the air. He didn't care much for the game and mostly thought that going to watch was a waste of his time, but it kept up appearances and Victoria was very talented at being their seeker. Watching her embarrass the Gryffindor players made standing around for a few hours almost worth it. 

Her pale blonde hair was braided out of her face with a few loose strands flying around her eyes. Victoria chose to sit high above the pitch to get a good view point. She wouldn't end the match too early but she also wasn't about to let Gryffindor win.

A whistle turned her head. A boy with black, fluffy hair and golden and red robes glided up beside her. 

"Always good to start up the season again," Fleamont Potter smiled, leaning lazily on the handle of his broom, "don't you think?" 

"Potter," Victoria greeted him with a smirk, sitting back comfortably on her own broom. While they weren't exactly friends, Victoria did enjoy the boy. He was funny and a good flyer which made quidditch that much more fun. She had to race to him so, when she caught the snitch it felt earned. 

"You could be a little nicer to me," Fleamont said, edging a little closer so that their knees brushed up against each other as they swayed in the wind, "it's good sportsmanship." 

"I could," Victoria frowned a little and pulled away from him, far enough to be comfortable without leaving the conversation, "but I don't want to." 

"Such cruel words from an angel's mouth," Fleamont flung his hand dramatically to his forehead, "how will I ever recover from this wound? Perhaps if her ladyship joined me for tea? Gave me her hand? Let me meet her father?" 

“What an interesting alliance we'd make.” Victoria laughed heartily, letting her gaze travel across the pitch to scan for the snitch. She couldn't see it. "And what of your muggle? Do you have no respect for me or my name to try and touch it with tainted hands?" 

"She's not a muggle, Vicky," Fleamont sighed, gaining a stern glare from his opponent. 

"Victoria," she corrected him harshly, the grip on her broom tightening. 

"Not a fan of nicknames?" Fleamont asked, a little taken aback by her strong reaction though he had always wondered why none of her friends ever shortened her name. 

"No. I was named after a Queen, I hold my head with the same respect." Victoria's frown softened as she continued to look around. A golden glint caught her eye but it flew closer so she bided her time as she kept an eye on it. "But what of Euphemia, you two get on don't you? She's a nice girl." 

"You're only saying that because she's a pureblood," Fleamont frowned, almost waiting for her to step over the line he had always hated his parents crossing. 

"Of course I am. It would be unbecoming to dirty such a pretty bloodline." Victoria smirked, dipping quickly underneath him in a dive towards the ground. 

Fleamont took a second to look bewildered before he looked down and spotted what she was following. He chased her down in a fast swoop. A loud cheer roared throughout the stands as the two seekers rocketed through the sky. They weaved through players and wooden beams, chasing down the small golden ball. 

Fleamont caught up the best he could; she had the edge on him after seeing it first. He wasn't going to give in though, even as his mind raced with her method of distraction. Why mention Euphemia when he knew that they didn't like each other? A prank perhaps? Was she looking to embarrass him? Maybe to make Euphemia uncomfortable? 

Fleamont pulled up sharply before he hit the grass on the pitch. His breathing heavy, he looked up to see the gloating smirk on Victoria's face as she held the snitch gently between her fingers. 

"What happened to those reflexes, Potter?" she asked, letting the snitch hover a little before grabbing it again as the whistle was blown and Slytherin's win declared. 

"You don't play fairly, Malfoy," Fleamont said as he began to clap along with the rest of his team. 

"Neither do you," Victoria shrugged, shifting in her seat as she went to fly away, "the difference between us is that when I do it, I win." 

Fleamont shook his head as their feet touched the grass. Forever free from her own consequences, Victoria soaked in the cheers and celebrations with a graceful wave and bow. With an eye roll, Fleamont stepped over and took a hold of her wrist and lifted it into the air. 

“And the princess does it again,” he said with a humble smile. She could never annoy him with a loss, he had too much respect for the game. 

“Her Majesty will not be touched by enemy hands,” Obsidian Lestrange said in a mocking tone that made Victoria roll her eyes until she was lifted from the ground. 

“Obsidian!” Victoria gasped, feeling unstable as she was hoisted onto his shoulder. 

His instance on seeing a light in Victoria may have been deluded, but Fleamont couldn't help but laugh at her disgruntled expression as she tried to wriggle free of Obsidian's arms. 

The Lestrange boy carried the Slytherin princess over to the smug look boy wrapped in the dark coat she had bought him. 

“Fraternising with Gryffindors now are we, Victoria?” Tom asked as he watched Obsidian put her back on the ground. 

“Well you were so far away,” Victoria smirked, tugging her quidditch kit back into place, “a girl has to entertain herself sometimes.”

A warmth spread through Tom's chest despite the wind. It had been months since he had seen her smile properly. That look was his and he had been missing seeing it on her face. 

“You played well,” Tom said as the Slytherin team started to crowd them. 

It was Eileen that interrupted the flush across Victoria's cheeks, jumping on her shoulders excitedly. She cheered and pulled Victoria around as the chanting started. A chorus of celebration for the Slytherin team. Tom didn't care for it, but if it made Victoria smile again, then he would endure it for her. Nothing had been more frustrating than the lack of her attention since the start of the year. She ignored him like he was anyone else. If he could get her happy again, he could have her focus like he used to.