The Fearsome Name of Riddle

Our Worst Day

Tw: graphic depictions of violence and strong themes of domestic abuse

Pride was a dangerous thing. Even the most cunning could fall victim to it. Victoria had never been stupid, she calculated her moves well, but venturing into the lion's den when his rage was thick enough to mist the air had more to do with her pride than any form of self preservation.

Even with her hand on the door, visions of her father's office flashed across her mind. She had been fourteen when her mother died and it had changed everything inside Malfoy Manor. Something broken that had never been repaired. Perhaps it had been the resemblance in her face that had drawn her father's rage. He couldn't hate a corpse for dying, but he could hate her mirror.

The dining room door creaked open, her tentative movements much less confident than she should have been. Lord Voldemort had stayed in his meeting until all his guests had been excused. He didn't raise his head. The muscles in his jaw twitched as he stared down at the table, mind race but far beyond her reach. His favour towards her had become far more of a hindrance to him. She made him look weak. An exception to his rules. No one questioned him, except Victoria. No one took orders from anyone else, except Victoria.

"I don't like to be ignored in my own house." Victoria's voice brought his attention up to her, shaking in just the way he wanted it to. "I know you are the Lord, and I don't ask to be anything more but- I don't feel like you need me at all in your new world."

"I don't need you?" Tom scoffed, almost amused by the idea. If he could have stopped being so attached to her years ago, he would've done it. His obsession was beyond his control. "I need you to breathe, you're the one that can replace me with any man that would worship the ground you walk on."

Victoria stood, too stunned for an immediate response. That was what he hated her for still. A seven year old betrayal that she had already suffered intensely for. Maybe it was her shattered heart that he despised. After all, what did one dead traitor mean between two killers? He couldn't understand why she cared so deeply. A feeling much too foreign for him.

"You're angry about that." Her voice grew eerily quiet, anger rapidly replacing any fear and blinding her rational need to manage his violence. "You know for a while, I thought you were building yourself up to say you were sorry."

"Sorry?" Tom yelled, slamming his hands down onto the table as he stood. "Why would I ever be sorry about killing your whore? You are mine."

He slammed his hand into the chair beside him. It hit the floor with a crash.

Victoria retreated a step, holding up a hand in an attempt to keep him at bay.

"Not for killing him, it's not in your nature to be any kind of considerate." Victoria spoke quickly, heart hammering in her chest. "For the way you did it. You were cruel, and not to him but to me. Your love. Your one and only. You tried to destroy everything I had."

"And you deserved it." Tom said through gritted teeth.

"You destroyed my life that day." Fear mixed with her anger as Tom stepped closer to her, hating the sound of her raised voice. "Just like you did when you left me alone in this house all those years ago. We have not been happy in years. I loved Obsidian and you took him from me, you tried to take my sons. I never ran from your side otherwise I would not be here. I can stand by your side to keep my life, but I can't give you anything more."

Voldemort's hands shook with rage as he watched her rip the Gaunt family ring from her hand and throw it across the room at his feet. His eyes stared down at the gold band that held a black stone in its metal.

The horror of what she'd done sank in quick. Only one prayer engulfed her mind. If he killed and broke their vow, maybe it would be enough to kill him before he could get to Octavian.