O r p h a n ● Tom Riddle [Harry Potter Fanfiction]

⑮ Quinze - Fate has its hold.

"Merciless."

The two stood in the grand foyer, decorated with ornate paintings and artistic treasures from ages of old. It was coloured with gold to the taste of its extravagant master and only sprinkled with a dash of silver for its mistress. The two powers stood directly across from each other, on opposite ends of the room, there was a silent challenge in the air. The Master had his cane folded under his arm as he was examining the top hat in his hand, a tall customised design with an ominous aura, while the Mistress stood with graceful posture at the top of the marble stairs, sneering with cold displeasure at the Master by the fire. "Merciless!" she raised her voice.

Master Merciless spun around slowly, smoothly performing a hat trick with a single click of his finger, the top hat had returned to his head. "Cecilia. Talking to the dead again?" he smiled.

Cecilia scoffed before beginning to make her way down the stairs, her chin up, shoulders back, and not a single careless foot as she did. "I was reminding her who the antagonist really is."

"You?" Merciless quipped, watching her brows furrow as she paused her steps.

"You're terrible unfunny." She responded before continuing down again, "I don't know why you keep insisting on referring to her as 'dead', her name's- "

"Not Vivienne, her name is not Vivienne. Don't you dare finish that sentence." He had interrupted her with a charming smile and a playfulness in his tone, but the charming disposition didn't reach his eyes.

Cecilia's lips turned into a cold smile. "The dead sister sharing the same name as your daughter... are you scared she will meet the same fate? Or is it the association with death?"

Merciless grimaced "Fate is a fickle foe. If history were to repeat itself, say... if fate played its part..." he playfully rolled his eyes, a smile returning to his lips, "Vivienne will kill Cecilia..." He sang out.

As Cecilia reached the bottom of the stairs and took a step out onto the marble floor, the sound of her heels echoed throughout the foyer. She retained her posture as she walked towards an ornate armchair, refusing to meet Merciless' eyes. "Is that another joke?" she hissed.

"No, it is not." With devilish haste he made his way towards Cecilia, his cane now firmly grasped in his hand.

She didn't dare move and stood firmly by the armchair, a hand atop it to keep herself steady as she prepared herself for what was to come.

Merciless reached out to her with an excited grin against his lips. His fingers barely brushed her bare back before she felt a bone crushing force push against her. Her legs buckled and she desperately held onto the top of the chair, her arms now firmly embracing it to keep herself off the floor. Her eyes were blank and not a sound escaped her lips.

"Do you see?" his voice sounded like a faraway whisper in Cecilia's mind. She felt as if she was in a room surrounded by four walls, trapped in the middle as they closed in and pressed against her sides. She did not speak.

Her vision was non-existent, her presence was no longer felt in the foyer, she was far away.

"I see" she whispered.

She saw herself on a beautiful, proud white horse with blue ribbons in its hair. They were atop of a hill, standing beside an elder wood tree. She had on her favourite gown, a summer affair made of billowing white fabric and rose details on its wide sleaves. Her hair was free, a crown made of daisies adorning her long brown hair as it flew in the breeze. She was smiling, she looked so happy.