Chapter Text
Viktoria could feel the cold sinking deep into her marrow, the air turning to ash in her lungs as the wind was screaming in her face. Loudly. If she could concentrate on it long enough, perhaps she could even drown out the weeping of the man at her feet.
She took a deep breath then, allowing the frost of winter to pierce her lungs. Using dark magic always left a lasting print on one’s soul, and Viktoria, pure blooded or not, was no exception.
Soon enough she’d have to carve out the rot herself.
That thought made a shudder lick up her spine, and she stayed there, the wood of her wand biting in her fingers and the caress of wind making her dark, wavy low ponytail dance like one of those ballet shows her mother used to watch with her. It seemed like an eternity ago.
"Wh...what do you need?" Whimpered the middle aged man as he turned to face her, the tremors caused by the Cruciatus Curse, the curse of torture, still very much visible. Only through years of training did she not recoil away at his pathetic voice.
She knew those tremors all too well, for she'd experienced them first hand many times before.
As she stepped closer, her heels clicking on stone like a silent promise, her spine so straight one could place a book on top of the girl's head, the man tried to crawl away. A firm step on his leg made him think twice before fully initiating that pathetic attempt of an escape.
The man could not apparate away, either. Not for a while, at least. Not when the invisible needles of the curse still lingered fresh on his skin.
"I need you to remember our little conversation." She spoke, in a voice that seemed both distant and not. Cold.
"Liar!" Cried the man. "You're just trying to punish-"
"So you do know, then." Viktoria interrupted him, tone suddenly rasp and aggressive, a complete contrast to her previous cold and calculated voice. She surprised herself and cleared her throat, resuming her composure as if nothing had happened. The rot of the curse was already starting to corrupt her judgement, she morbidly realized.
"I am but the messenger, Daniel." Kneeling down, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled, resting the tip of her wand on the bare skin of his throat. It didn’t actually make a difference, of course. Her aim was as close to perfection as it could get. That said, they always sang oh so much more sweetly when feeling the kiss of doom on their skin. "My father was more than clear about what he expects from you. If he sends me again, the consequences will outweigh whatever benefit you believe you will get out of this. Do we understand each other?" Asked Viktoria, her grip tightening ever so slightly on the man’s scalp.
Daniel gave a short nod through labored breaths, and she let him go without another word.
After she took two steps away from his form, heels clicking on the stone front of his house, she dreaded the idea of her coming anew to his doorstep.
When she first arrived, she could hear, clear as day, the voices of his wife and child, ever the ignorants to the shady business of this man. She didn't exactly enjoy doing her house's dirty work, but money was tight and all the extra hands they once had started to vanish as well.
Viktoria had a responsibility. She had a duty. And she would sooner let herself get Crucio'd again before she would let her family's name drop to dirt. To dishonour.
It's not like she didn't know that pain already.
And after another moment of silence, filled only by the man's laboured breath, she lingered for five more seconds, letting fear sink into the man’s marrow at the unpredictability.
“Have a lovely evening.” She finally said, and apparated away, the darkness of night swallowing her whole.
Truth be told, Viktoria wasn't supposed to know about Daniel's crimes. As far as her father was concerned, he pointed and she bit.
But she did know. She had to.
More than once she was compared to a dog by her fellow Slytherin classmates. More than once she sent them to the infirmary in return.
House of ambition and cunning, huh? Did survival count as ambition as well?
When her family started to lose power in favor of the fucking Gaunts, out of all people, she knew she couldn’t stand aside and let her family plummet into disgrace. Viktoria started scheming, forming connections with the pure blooded wizarding populations through any means necessary.
What kind of a daughter would she be otherwise? Not one her father raised, that was for sure.
Despite her pure blood status, however, she was jealous of them all. What she wouldn't give to feel her soul light anew. While they spent warm winter vacations at home with their families, she was forced to ensure her family's reputation did not dive further into disgrace.
It was all the fault of her brother, really. Her spoiled, ignorant older brother. Staying cozy within the walls of their manor as he was guaranteed to inherit her family’s wealth and power. The power she worked so hard to obtain.
Must be wonderful being guaranteed power and respect because he was born male.
No seventeen year old should be stuck with the burden of an entire family reputation on her shoulder. Or perhaps it was not as dramatic as she made it sound to be. After all, the majority of her acquaintances back at Hogwarts already had their hands promised to a man.
She sighed dreamily. A husband. A single man to treasure you and love you until the end of days. Viktoria found the fantasy both bitter and lovely.
No matter how much she wished for it, however, she wasn’t getting a husband. Not while her father still had warm air in his lungs.
If the world knew her as a mother and wife, after all, it would be infinitely harder to manipulate men into giving her the information her father desired. It would be a setback. An… inconvenience.
It didn’t matter what she wanted. It never did.
She would enter the nineteenth century lonely and bitter. The thought almost made her scoff.
When she arrived home, a mansion the size of a small palace, there was nobody to greet her.
Nobody at all.
'Peculiar' she thought, as she entered her cold home.
No house elves, no servants indebted to her blood, no mother reading in the garden. The halls, the rooms, they were all empty. Not a sound to be heard.
But why? All the protection charms were in place, she could tell. Nobody broke in, and yet the place was completely deserted.
A part of her was relieved. After all... an empty house was a peaceful house. And yet a part of her was not so naïve as to truly believe that, after all this time, luck finally smiled down upon her.
No... something was wrong, further confirmed by the strong pull of magic she felt at the base of her stomach. Something had infiltrated her mansion.
Quick as she could, she grabbed the wand stashed in her coat's pocket and pulled it out.
Cautiously she began following the strange pull, stringing her along as if by the very blood in her veins.
The bathroom. It was coming from the bathroom.
Viktoria braced herself lightly before opening the door, expecting some portal to have opened in the big space that was the bathroom, but nothing happened. In fact, she actually lowered her wand. There was nothing amiss there.
Yet something was pulling her along.
As a last resort, she turned towards the mirror, the undeniable source of magic she felt.
Her eyes were deceiving her. While, at first glance, nothing seemed out of place, she could clearly feel the massive amount of magic coming out of the thing.
A charm? Has her family escaped through the mirror and decided to let it open for her? After careful consideration, she chuckled at her own outrageous theory.
Her family would have long sealed the portal. No traces of their whereabouts were to be revealed in case of an emergency, even to their own daughter. So then... What was the explanation?
Call it curiosity, call it hope. Viktoria herself didn't know what it was that was calling to her from that mirror.
What was the worst that could happen? At best, she'd find her way in a secluded place where she could fly away from at any moment. At worst, her body would be shredded to pieces in a space where only magic existed.
But curiosity was such a tease....
She shook her head, horrified at her own thoughts. What was wrong with her?! She needed to get out. Now.
But she didn’t even get to touch the door’s handle before something made her muscles stop in their tracks.
Her mind became numb, her fingers clenching and unclenching the cold metal of the door before finally letting go.
She turned around and was only half conscious when the mercury-like mirror swallowed her whole.