1. The Way it Goes

"He is dead."

The fire was cracking in the hearth in contrast to the storm outside. She saw the snowflakes and she saw the fiery tongues but felt neither. She felt nothing at all. And she heard nothing as well. It was the last thing that reached her mind "He is dead."

Slowly, extremely slowly she stood up and faced the room. They were all there. Lucius, Narcissa, Bella. And they waited her to order them what to do. Like a wolf pack that had lost their Alpha. Was she the new Alpha? The queen wolverine?

"Okay."

Victorya didn't plan to say precisely that when she heard that her father was dead, but with no better choice…

"Mistress.. We are one of the last survivors. I can't see how we are going to fight again. "

"Cissa, we are not going to fight. I am going to make the little Potter and his even smaller friends regret the day they decided to pollute the Earth with their parasite beings."

"And where do we get in the picture, my lady?"

"You'll see, Malfoy. You will see."

And with that the conversation was over. Riddle just exited the room and exiled herself to more comfortable and less populated place. Her room.

How, the Hell, they even got here? The woman was so used to being alone, that even their silent presence bothered her extremely. Right now she just wanted to kill someone. No. She wanted to kill everyone but herself. Or without the "but"… Not sure yet.

The light knock on the door kept her from eventually, really truly eventually committing suicide.

"Come in, Bella."

"Victorya, my sister… she wants you to move in their manor. If that's okay with you, of course. That way it'll be easier for you to have a better look on what is going on. '

That one surprised her even more than the news that her father was dead.

Maybe that wasn't that much of an absurd. Maybe she could ponder and plan everything perfectly from Malfoy's manor.

"That.. That sounds quite smart, Bella. I'm pleased with your good idea. Tell Cissa I'll go. Tomorrow around noon."

The dark-haired woman bowed once more, than left the room without a word.

Victorya gave a tired sigh and sat on her vanity table. The mirror was a bitch. How could it lie so shamelessly? That curly auburn hair couldn't be so shiny. These cheeks so rosy. These blue-gray eyes so sparkling and happy and without a single tear in them. That was ridiculous. Her father just died and she was as cold as the snow covering the ground outside on the Riddle's house. Or even colder.

Well done, daddy. You trained me perfectly.

***

Malfoy's manor was white and glistening in the light of the low-standing sun.

It's bigger than my house, I should give them that.

It was bigger. An awful lot bigger. Not like she cared at all. She was Riddle, and things one Riddle cares about were narrowed down to themselves.

Victorya let herself in and wondered for a little while in the huge hallways before running into some excuse for a house elf.

"May I help you, madam?" it said, not quite sure if that stranger was supposed to be in its masters' house.

"Yes. Bring Narcissa here."

"As you wish, mistress, as you wish."

But of course it is as I wish. It always comes to this.

Not interested in the manor anymore, the little miss Riddle took up way more interesting activity – examining her manicure.

A few minutes later, or more, because, well, when you are doing something as serious as checking on your nails, time is something relative, Narcissa Malfoy was finally there to welcome her guest. Or her mistress. However you like it better, as Victorya was both.

"Victorya! What a pleasant surprise. You found your way in…"

"You are not really surprised, are you, Cissa?" there was a sly grin on the younger woman's face. "I can find my way in even in hell."

"I'm sure you can" muttered Narcissa, and then produced a mock smile "But let me show you your room, mistress."

The blond hostess waved to Riddle to follow her up the stairs.

***

As Malfoy's new boss so to say, Vicky was going to live in something that pretty much deserved the title apartment, rather than room.

It was huge and had a royal bed, big enough for four people to sleep in it, with sheets in green and silver, as everything else in the house, a wardrobe that would fit a trunk full of clothes, and windows that could let a plane in if they were open.

Then, of course, there was a bathroom with a hot tube and full length mirror, as well as some really intriguing shampoos and hair-conditioning potions.

She was left wondering who made that things, but not for long. She was starving and was so definitely going to find the kitchen. And the fridge.

Half an hour later..

Shit! That manor is bigger than the Ministry of Magic, Merlin's beard.

Victorya was sick of stairs, hallways and locked doors that led to huge terraces, never used, taken the dust on their floors.

She just wanted to have lunch and was getting quite nervous due to the lack on house elves.

When you want to be alone, they are everywhere. But when you are lost and hungry, they are nowhere to be seen. Screw them!

And with that Riddle pressed the handle of another door. That one opened.

"Mom, I told you I don't want to come down for lunch. Send Clyse with my food here."

Then he finally turned around to face the gorgeous girl standing in his room. That was nice. But he had no shirt and that wasn't half as nice.

"Oh, God! Who are you?"

"So you are the little Malfoy. I'm Victorya Riddle."