The Fearsome Name of Riddle

Birthday Dinner

Hogsmeade village was quaint. A cosy place that seemed welcoming to all who visited but sometimes hostile visitors disrupted the peaceful equilibrium of the village. The horror of the Death Eaters was that day to day they could not be discerned from the average wizard. They had families, jobs, hobbies, they attended birthdays and appeared perfectly normal. 

Goldhorn's was a delightful restaurant at the centre of Hogsmeade. A flickering candlelight ceiling extended above the group of witches and wizards dining like a star lit sky. Tall glass windows that were shadowed in the darkness of the evening illuminated only by street lights guiding the cobblestone paths. The tables sort of glowed with a soft charm, lighting up each gathering of people. 

November 3rd. Sirius Black's twelfth birthday. The birthday boy himself looked pale, even for the complexion that the Black family shared. He wore a glare as he sat across from Victoria at the end of the long table, removed from his own dinner. Octavian sat beside his mother, Regulus, across from him beside his brother. Lucius was further up the table beside Narcissa. 

"Why are you here?" Sirius asked bitterly, "I was told birthdays are strictly for family." 

The corner of Victoria's mouth twitched into a smirk, noting his aggression as him being forced to interact with his family after he thought himself free. Most children go that way once they go to Hogwarts. Rebellion. New ideas surrounding them after being contained in the isolation of pureblood society. Sirius loved to learn and Gryffindor housed children that thought vastly differently than the kind of people he was used to. 

"Is that not what I am?" Victoria asked, tilting her head as she took a sip of her wine glass. "A friend of the family is close enough, isn't it?" 

"She doesn't want me talking to anyone, does she?" Sirius's head leaned forward to look over to where his mother sat happily enjoying her meal with a pinched smile as she spoke to his uncle Cygnus. "You're a buffer. She knows I won't talk to anyone else if you're here." 

"Your mother is—" Victoria paused, looking for the right word as she tried not to look impressed by Sirius's skills of deduction. "concerned— that you will be— argumentative. I don't mind sparring with you." 

Sirius's signature grin edged onto his face. It felt like defeat, like he had to be angry the whole time or he would not be able to complain to his friends when he got back to the castle. So, he dropped his head instead and started to push his stake around his plate. 

"So what is the tower like?" Victoria asked, her head tilting as she looked at him. "Are Gryffindors constantly that self righteous, or is it just an act to torture everyone else?" 

"We are not self righteous." Sirius stabbed a knife into his stake. 

"We?" Victoria frowned a little, amused smirk still on her lips in her entertainment. He was never sure if she found him funny or if there was a maliciousness behind it. 

"It's not like I can be resorted," Sirius sighed, looking up at her again. "If that were possible, Mother would have demanded it at the beginning of the year." 

"So," Victoria pushed, kicking Sirius lightly under the table, "what's the tower like?" 

"Why do you want to know what Gryffindor tower is like?" 

"I've never been." Victoria shrugged, getting on with her dinner. "I never had Gryffindor friends, I valued my principles and my sanity far too much to bother with a Gryffindor for too long. I always imagined it covered in lions. Do you get a crown to wear so you can play king?" 

"Is the Slytherin common room covered in snakes?" Sirius retorted, his brow furrowing at her assumptions. 

Victoria shrugged with a knowing smirk. The Slytherin common room was covered in snakes. Silver and green, littered across every surface and fabric. Etched into the metal and the wood.