The Fearsome Name of Riddle

Lucius Malfoy

Black binding sat beneath long, cold fingers as Lucius Malfoy sat up in his bed, just staring at the diary. A low glow of candlelight illuminated his face, flickering in a soft breeze sneaking in through the cracks on the window. This was it. He would no longer be learning about a woman he didn't know. No more would his mother be a stranger in the memories of others. 

"You don't have to read it, Lucius." Narcissa's voice was groggy as she turned over next to him. Her black and white hair splayed across the pillow, her grey eyes barely open in the dark. "You know what your mother was like." 

"After she changed," he said softly, stroking the leather in his hands. "I remember people telling her that they were happy that she had come around. I want to hear her side now. As a kid you don't understand but— I know she didn't want me." 

"Your mother loved you Lucius," Narcissa said, reaching her hand over to hold his. "If you read that thing looking for her to say she hated you, you'll find it." 

“I know that she did.” Lucius opened the book to one of the early pages and read her a line in his mother's own hand. “Abraxas tells me that I nearly died, and looking at this infant, sometimes I wish that I had.” 

Silence lingered. Lucius’ eyes lingered on the neat, flowing handwriting on the page. It was disappointing that she hadn't been more dedicated to her journals. Victoria Malfoy didn't write everyday, she only seemed to write when she felt like it or needed to work through something. 

Feeling his bottom lip tremble, Lucius bit down on it hard to bring himself away from that confusing feeling that had been haunting him since her picture was found at Hogwarts. "You're probably going to be mentioned in here too. She always really liked you." 

Narcissa smiled and let out a little chuckle. She moved her hand and felt the white blonde strips in her hair. "Well, wake me up when you get to those parts and read them to me." 

"Alright." Lucius smiled as he watched her get comfortable again and go back to sleep. "I will." 

#####

1954

A gloom hung over Malfoy Manor. Grey clouds floated low around the roof and refused to rain like they threatened to. Cold air engulfed the estate in the early months of the year, snow melted and leaving behind a damp in the soil that would not dry until late spring. Cold blue eyes watched Tom Riddle's return to the Manor from the long, thin windows of the second floor. Platinum blonde hair slicked back against her head as the length of it fell down her back, the top half tightly bound at her crown. Victoria Malfoy wore a black dress like a woman in mourning and a tired, expressionless look that made her look hollow. She watched her husband catch sight of her on the gravel path up to her house and turned away from the window, satisfied that they both knew the other was there. 

Her footsteps echoed in the silence. Empty halls of polished hardwood and elegant black walls that sucked the light from the glowing lamps. After a few months, she had recovered mostly from her pregnancy. Victoria could walk around, her short heels clicking with each step. 

Only Victoria Malfoy could apparate in her house. Abraxas had given the deed to her, out of pity or fear she didn't know, it didn't really matter much to her. The Manor belonged to her. Tom would have to walk. 

A black wood bannister guarded a landing up above the door to the entrance hall. Victoria waited and watched as Tom stepped through the door after a house elf and followed by Obsidian Lestrange and Ivan Rosier. 

“Vict—” Tom started but she turned and walked back into the hall on the second floor before he could finish. 

She passed her brother on her way. He glanced at her but Abraxas had gotten used to her melancholic mood over the year they had spent living in the same house.