The Fearsome Name of Riddle

Breaking Point

TW: domestic violence and threat against children.

Her angel boy, her eldest, hugged Victoria tight the same way he had at five. Lucius's arms wrapped around his mother, squeezing her close as they sat on his bed. The evening had become their time together. Though having a brother had made her happy and had been exciting at first, Octavian tended to grasp a hold of Victoria's attention and failed to let go. He had fought hard to make friends with his mother, it didn't feel fair that Octavian got her affection without trying and while doing everything she had hated him for. But in the evening, she was his again. 

The front door opened and slammed shut with a crash and Victoria flinched in a jolt, Lucius just held on tighter. They had been expecting his father home that day, his lateness had not put Victoria at ease. 

"You can stay with me," Lucius said, his quilt pulled up to his waist as he loosened his grip around her neck. "We can read stories all night and I'll move over. You'll fit next to me, look." 

"No, angel boy, that's alright," Victoria smiled, rubbing his arms as he shuffled all the way over to the wall to make room for her. "You need to sleep, I'll be fine." 

“I'll sleep with you here. I promise.”

Another thud shuddered the house. 

"He sounds angry." Lucius' eyes glazed over with a nervousness that locked into all his muscles. 

He was young but Lucius wasn't stupid. Part of her wished that he was. Maybe then he would lay down and sleep through what would happen next, unaffected by the violence. 

"He's probably just tired," she told him, kissing him on the top of the head as she stood up. "He's heavy handed is all. You go to sleep, there's nothing to worry about." 

Lucius nodded apprehensively as he scooted down into his bed, pulling his quilt up to his face. He watched her scared face as she glanced out into the hallway before turning back to look at him one last time. She left him with a smile and closed the door all the way. She knew what was coming, and so did he. 

#####

Tom Riddle had been lingering longer than Victoria had expected him to. He didn't hold the same care for family, that had always been clear. Whether he truly loved Victoria or not was something of a mystery to her. Sometimes she thought she could see a light in his eyes that made his smile look genuine, but other times it was like he looked right through her. It made Victoria wonder if lions loved their prey. They would guard it, savour it, exert such effort to claim and keep it. Was the consumption really love or was it just something they deemed necessary. 

Victoria's steps barely made a sound as she descended the stairs towards the thrown coat and slammed doors. Paranoia seemed to be a dangerous thing. He could have been angry about anything, he wasn't hard to irritate. 

As she approached the sitting room, Dobby passed through the door, eyes jittering around nervously. He bowed his head in a greeting but didn't speak. She found her husband sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, glass of fire whiskey in his fingers. 

“You're home,” she said softly, studying his statue-like posture. 

“Disappointed?” He didn't blink, he just stared at the wall with an unfocused gaze. 

Victoria took a breath and stayed by the door. Her heart made itself known, fluttering in her chest and making her lungs feel unsteady. 

"Did you have a good day?" she asked, trying to read his face but all she saw was anger beneath a veil like a tiger poised in the shrubbery.