Dark Dynasty || Tom Riddle

xv. dumbledore's plea

There were only two thoughts on Victoria's mind: the visions and the feather on her bed. She was certain that whoever had placed it there, was also the one that had attacked her the night of her birthday. The force of the attacks and the rage with which the feather had been mutilated spoke of pure hatred. Since she couldn't recall offending anyone at Hogwarts deeply enough, except for maybe Tom, she was still convinced the person could not be another student. But that meant all the more reason to worry, because that person must've been able to sneak in and out of the castle without getting caught and will likely do it again.

Surprisingly, Victoria was even more unsettled by what she had seen in the crystal ball than by the dangers of the real world. She daydreamed about her mother, and at night she dreamed of her shattered body at the bottom of a cliff. Many times she woke from her nightmares, not screaming but rather feeling as hollow as she had when the lily had withered.

When even the teachers noted the dark circles under her eyes and that she had stopped paying attention in class, Victoria decided she had to confide in somebody or she'd go crazy. Not Tom, no, he had not yet forgiven her for the way she'd made him grovel. He'd kept his promise not to retaliate, but that didn't mean he wouldn't show how much he resented her for it every chance he got. He liked to try on her all the new tricks he'd learned when they dueled in the Room of Requirement at night. Despite that, Tom wouldn't understand.

A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved, and Victoria knew exactly who to share her burden with. So she cornered him after Herbology and dragged him to one of the many courtyards.

"What's going on?" frowned Anthony as he cleared a bench from snow, the first of the year. "I thought you didn't want to be friends."

Victoria sat down next to him. "That's not why we're here. I need someone to talk to."

"And you came to me?" Anthony laughed and made to leave. "That horse has left the barn. You could've talked to me in the train or when I invited you to the waterfall, but instead you've only been horrible to me."

"Please," she said. And because Victoria never asked, Anthony sat down again. He was way too forgiving.

He sighed. "Why me?"

"Because you're the only one I can trust to keep what I'm going to say to yourself and to not use it against me," she answered truthfully. Even Phillipe, who she was rather close to, would undoubtedly tell Tom. She didn't need to give him more to manipulate her with.

So she told him what had happened the past few days; about her strange dreams and the burned feather, but left out her dealings with Tom Riddle. It felt strange, to open up to someone, to lay herself bare before him in a way, but at the same time it helped ease her mind. Victoria felt that she could think clearly again, as if talking about it lifted a haze from her head as she regained control over her thoughts and worries, rather than let them control her.

But Victoria was not dumb or naïve, on the contrary, she was a true Slytherin in that regard, intelligent and cunning. She only told Anthony what he needed to know, nothing to reveal any weaknesses of hers, or that she truly was scared. With every piece of information she offered up, she gained back a little trust. He was so gullible and it was so easy to make him forgive her, it was almost laughable.

Though Victoria didnt like to admit it, she envied Tom for the loyalty he inspired in others. Whether it was through fear or admiration or something else, he had the members of his group ensnared in such a tightly knit net of shared secrets, beliefs and interests, that they would never leave or betray him. She wanted to build a following of her own, fashioned after Tom's Knights of Walpurgis. (With a less embarrassing name of course. She'd laughed herself hoarse after she had found out what he called his henchmen.) She'd decided to begin with Anthony. Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal to a fault after all, right?