( CHAPTER ONE)
morbid summer
TRUST NO ONE. Victoria Black grew up with this mantra in her head – she thought of it herself, as a matter of fact. People were not trustworthy; humans were fickle creatures, two-faced, selfish. Her own father had left her and her mother while Victoria was still a small child. That was what her mother had told her anyway.
Victoria was skeptical of her mother; now more than ever, after Cedric Diggory's death in the prior year and the Dark Lord's return. And so here they were, spending summer with the Weasley family at number 12 Grimmauld place.
As a Slytherin, Victoria wasn't well acquainted with Ron Weasley, his family, and his friends and could honestly remember bullying the ginger haired boy a couple times during their first year at Hogwarts.
"Missing the snake pit, I assume?" asked Victoria's mother, Rosalind, sitting down next to the black haired girl. Victoria slowly turned to her mother who had a childish smile on her face. "Cheer up now, babe, I'm only teasing."
Victoria suppressed the sudden urge to roll her eyes. "Very funny, mum."
The smile left Rosalind's lips. "Sweetheart, I know you don't like it here–"
"Then why are we here? Why aren't we at our house?"
"Don't take that tone with me," said Rosalind, her expression stern and strict. "Everything I do, I do for you. It's safe here, Victoria – that is what matters right now." Victoria put her head down with a small groan.
"Okay, mother. I apologize."
Rosalind reached over, her hand swiping over her daughter's shoulder length hair. "School starts in a few weeks – you'll be with your serpent friends soon."
Victoria lifted her head, facing her mother. "Can you stop calling them that? Wasn't dad in Slytherin too?"
"Yes and we both know how that turned out."
"And you think I'm going to grow up and walk out on my family?"
Rosalind sighed. "Of course not, my dear. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you offended. I just haven't had a chance to talk to you all summer."
"You haven't had a chance?" Victoria repeated. "You would have taken out some time to talk to me if you actually cared. Sirius does it–"
"Yes, dear. But as you see, Sirius is an Azkaban escapee and he's in hiding right now so of course he has the time to—"
"Oh mother, stop it! I know you two don't get along but show some gratitude – I don't like it here but he offered for us to stay with him."
"Victoria, please do not talk to me as if you are my mother."
Victoria stood up suddenly. "Sometimes it feels that way, mum."
Dinner time was loud, as expected. Fred and George were fighting over the last baguette. Remus and Tonks had been invited over, and were trying to get Victoria involved in the conversations but Victoria just ate in silence.
"Hello there, Remus, Nymphadora," said Rosalind as she entered the dining room. At once all eyes were on her and Victoria sunk lower in her seat. Her mother was always very beautiful but she had a habit of overdoing herself every time she went out. Tonight she was wearing an elegant black dress and a layer of makeup.
"And where are you going, young lady?" asked Mrs. Weasley who had grown quite affectionate towards Rosalind over the summer. Victoria couldn't understand why — she only loved her mother due to an obligation and she was certain her mother felt the same way.
"The Malfoys invited me over for dinner — parents' evening, you see. But I have no partner to take with me so I'm going by myself."
There was a moment of silence. Victoria glanced at Sirius who had lowered his head, opting to concentrate on his food. Remus spoke instead. "The Malfoys? Rosalind, I thought—"
"Remus, there's no use in arguing," said Sirius in a quiet tone. Rosalind's faced him, her expression turning cold almost immediately.
"Now, I don't see the point in you being rude to me, Sirius — you're the one who arranged for me to stay in your house."
"I did it for Victoria."
Arthur Weasley cleared his throat loudly. "So the Malfoys, yes?" he said, smiling uncomfortably. Victoria hid her face behind her hair in hopes that no one would see her humiliation in the form of pink tints on her cheeks.
"Lucius and I work in the same department at the Ministry," said Rosalind, giving everyone a strained smile. "And Narcissa is a close friend. Anyhow, I'll be back late." She bent down and gave Victoria a quick kiss on the forehead. "If I see your friend Draco, I'll make sure to say hi to him for you."
Victoria closed her eyes in annoyance. "I don't say hi but go ahead and say it's from you."
"I'm going down to the Ministry with Arthur," said Sirius, striding into the kitchen and chugging down a glass of orange juice from the table. "I won't be gone long — just want to say a few words to Harry before his trial, that's all."
Victoria had heard of Harry's story — that he had a very chilling encounter with Dementors in the Muggle world and was now facing the ruthless media who wanted to pin him as a liar. To her, despite not being close with the Boy Who Lived, Harry didn't seem like one to lie — especially not about something so serious. And, with her mother acting so weird, she did believe his claim about the Dark Lord returning.
"At least have breakfast, doll," said Mrs. Weasley. "Everyone else already ate." Now it was only Victoria sitting alone at the dining table, pretending to be interested in the picture of frame of the Weasley family hung on the wall while she ate her scrambled eggs.
Sirius smiled and shook his head. "I'm not hungry as of now. Victoria, you'll be alright without me, right?"
Mrs. Weasley placed her hands on her hips. "Oh, Sirius, must you ask her something like that? She'll be fine when you're gone. Does it look like we'd hurt her?" Victoria couldn't help smiling as she smacked the top of Sirius's head.
"Y-yes, yes... I was only joking," said Sirius, raising his hands in defense. "I'll be on my way then... goodbye, Victoria." Victoria waved bye and, with Sirius's exit, the house became quiet.
"Is everything alright, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley, turning to her. Victoria nodded, mustering a polite smile for the woman. "Well, when you're done with breakfast you can go up and play with the girls." Play? thought Victoria in her head. How old does she think I am? Victoria found it hard to be nonchalant with Mrs. Weasley — she was so kind and motherly, despite being a clear blood traitor.
"Victoria," Mrs. Weasley said, entering the kitchen once more. "Did your mother come home last night?"
For the umpteenth time, Victoria was to answer for mother's behaviour. It's like raising a child, she thought. "Yes, mum came home last night but she was horribly drunk."
Mrs. Weasley sighed. "She must be having a hangover, dear Lord. Would you mind waking her? She should have breakfast now." Victoria didn't want to. Firstly, she was forbidden to enter her mother's bedroom; Rosalind made it clear not to even put one foot in there.
Besides, Victoria was already getting used to her mother's more often than not absences. She'd barely even notice if her mother had left the house. Nevertheless, Victoria trudged upstairs under the gaze of Kreacher, the house-elf, who could not take his eyes off her ever since she entered the house.
"Mum," Victoria said, knocking on the door gently. After no response, she decided to go inside – and not just because her curiosity compelled her to do so.
The room was dark except for some sun rays that were bleeding through a half covered window. Clothes, boxes, papers, everything was littered across the floor and in the corner of the room stood a glowing pensieve. Victoria suppressed the urge to dive into it's secrets.
She turned around. her mother was sprawled across the bed, the blanket barely covering her body. Strangely enough, Rosalind still had on her makeup from the previous night. She hated going to sleep without removing her makeup. "Mother," Victoria said softly, shaking the woman's arm roughly. Rosalind did not budge.
Growing anxious, Victoria reached her hand forward. It was a silly thought but she couldn't help herself, the palm of her hand hovering above Rosalind's slightly parted lips.
She felt nothing and for a second, Victoria felt a skip in her heart beat just as it quickened. She shakily pressed two fingers to Rosalind's throat as she lay still. There was no pulse.