The pressure in the office became almost palpable—it felt as though the very air had grown thick and heavy. If an ordinary student had been in the room at that moment, they would have simply collapsed to the floor, losing consciousness from this suffocating aura.
— I am asking you once again: what was that just now? — Victor repeated in an icy tone. His gaze was so piercing and dangerous that Dumbledore felt a fleeting tremor for a fraction of a second, which he immediately suppressed.
— I merely became curious as to how your sister ended up in the company of Harry Potter. What incredible stroke of luck brought her to that ill-fated bathroom on this exact night? — Dumbledore asked calmly, never breaking eye contact with Victor's blood-red eyes.
— She already answered you: she was out walking and happened to run into them, — Victor said, his cold expression remaining unchanged.
Dumbledore smiled thinly, making himself more comfortable in his chair.
— And yet, I saw something entirely different. As it turns out, Miss Moss knew perfectly well where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was. — He paused meaningfully, closely watching Victor's reaction. — She read about it in her brother's diary. The very same brother who, just last year, left a note for himself: "Learn Parseltongue and open Slytherin's Chamber."
Victor continued to stare straight at him. The tomoe in his Sharingan began to spin more slowly, adopting a hypnotic, mesmerizing rhythm. Suddenly, a soft smile played on his lips, and shifting his gaze to the sleeping Adele, he gently adjusted a stray lock of her hair.
— Yes, she takes after me in that regard—altogether too curious, — he tossed out carelessly. — I suppose I ought to hide my notes better. There are things in my diaries that she is not yet old enough to read.
Seeing the icy composure with which Victor admitted to having known about the Chamber of Secrets for a long time, Dumbledore frowned.
— I thought we were friends, — Dumbledore said quietly, a genuine bitterness ringing in his voice. — Yet you, witnessing all my anxiety, simply watched me from the sidelines for an entire year without saying a single word. What is the meaning of this, Victor?
Victor looked at the Headmaster and suddenly burst into laughter—light and effortless.
— Headmaster, we are friends. More than that: you are my mentor. Naturally, as a diligent student, I try to follow your example in many respects.
— Explain yourself, — Dumbledore demanded dryly.
Victor kept smiling. The crimson glow of the Sharingan began to slowly fade, his eyes returning to their original sky-blue color. He leaned back in his chair in a relaxed manner, continuing to rhythmically stroke his sister's hair.
— You are the greatest manipulator I have ever met, and I am merely trying to keep pace with you. Yes, I knew about the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk the entire time. But I had my own reasons for keeping silent, — Victor narrowed his eyes slyly. — After all, I don't ask you why you so submissively left the school at the Board of Governors' request, knowing perfectly well that your departure would make the Heir grow bolder. See? You have your secrets and intrigues, and I have mine.
Dumbledore stared at Victor for a long, searching moment. Finally, he sighed heavily and allowed himself to relax as well.
— I will always regret leaving you at the Flamel estate for the entire summer, — Albus murmured. — You are becoming entirely too much like Perenelle. I cannot believe you lied to me for so long and I didn't even notice.
Victor smirked and thoughtfully shifted his gaze to the Headmaster's desk, which was cluttered with papers.
— As you said yourself—we are friends. Therefore, I won't hold too much of a grudge over your attempt to delve into Adele's head. I was actually planning to tell you exactly how Ginny Weasley came into possession of that diary... though I expect you have already figured that part out yourself. But you certainly won't be getting my personal gift now.
Victor was unhurriedly carrying his sister down the corridor when his path was suddenly blocked by a man whose aura he didn't recognize. Sensing who stood before him, Victor's smile only grew wider.
— Hello. Is there something I can help you with?
Lucius Malfoy cast a dismissive glance over Victor, lingering on his red blindfold and the unconscious girl in his arms.
— So you are that very Victor who has managed to disgrace the entire Slytherin house with your presence?
— Quite right, that's me, — Victor smiled sunnily, tilting his head slightly to the side.
The elder Malfoy frowned, his fingers tightening around the cane's handle.
— That Hat must have truly lost its mind to allow someone like you to cross the threshold of the common room of noble, pure-blood wizards.
— "Someone like me"? — Victor asked back with genuine curiosity. — Do you mean a Mudblood?
Lucius remained silent, but his fastidious facial expression and the way Dobby began to tremble with fear beside him made it clear: Victor had hit the bullseye. Without waiting for a response, his smile grew even brighter.
— Mr. Malfoy, allow me to ask you one question.
— Hmph. What sort of question? — Lucius asked in an icy tone.
— When I start sending your son home to you in pieces... should I start with the legs or the head? Which way would be more convenient for you to unwrap him?
Lucius froze dead in his tracks, processing what he had just heard. For a few seconds, a deathly silence reigned in the corridor. By the time Malfoy finally recovered and drew in a breath to launch into a furious tirade, Victor was no longer in front of him. He was already strolling calmly away, cradling his sister in his arms as if he hadn't just threatened his son's life.
Dobby stared in absolute shock at the boy's retreating figure. Ever since Voldemort disappeared, few had dared to speak to his master in such a manner. People usually flattered Lucius, ingratiated themselves, or trembled beneath his gaze. Looking at Victor, it seemed to the elf for a moment that a dazzling light flared around the boy—as if he were a fearless hero out of ancient legends.
Dobby only snapped out of it when he received a sharp jab to his ribs from the cane.
— Move, worthless elf! — Lucius snarled, absolutely incensed.
Showering his master with apologies, the house-elf hurried after him, but he kept looking back for a long time, casting glances at Victor's retreating back.
Adele opened her eyes slightly and immediately saw her brother's face. Looking around, she realized she was in the Room of Requirement. She was lying on a soft sofa, her head resting on Victor's lap. He was quietly humming a melody, stroking her hair.
— Good morning, dear. Or rather, it's already afternoon, — Victor smiled, sensing that she was awake.
— What happened? — she asked. The last thing she remembered was the Headmaster's heavy gaze in his office.
— Our kindly Headmaster decided to dive into your head to fish out memories. I intervened, and because he cut off the charm too abruptly, you lost consciousness.
Adele frowned, a look of guilt washing over her face.
— Did he find out that I read about the Chamber of Secrets in your diary?
Victor, never breaking his smile, confirmed it with a short nod.
— I'm sorry... — she sat up slightly and wrapped her arms tightly around him, burying her face in his chest.
Victor embraced her back, rhythmically patting her on the spine.
— It's alright. He is too clever; he would have figured it out sooner or later anyway.
They sat in silence for a long time until Adele pulled back, staring intently into his face.
— Your clone said that you are changing. And that it's dangerous.
Victor stopped stroking her hair. He slowly pulled off his blindfold and looked her straight in the eyes—those sky-blue eyes she hadn't seen in a very long time.
— And what do you think? Have I really started to behave differently?
Adele fell into thought, recalling the past few months.
— How are you supposed to tell when a person who always acts strange has started changing?
Victor froze for a moment, struck by the question, and then burst into genuine laughter.
— Fair point. You can't.
Adele smiled and gently touched his cheek.
— Will you teach me how to create clones?
— No, — Victor cut her off flatly.
— Why? — she asked in surprise. This was the first time he had outright refused to teach her magic. Usually, he either taught her gladly or told her she needed to grow a bit older first.
— You see, these clones aren't just copies. They develop their own interests, their own personalities. I haven't fully figured out this technique myself yet. They exert... a bad influence.
— A bad influence?
Victor nodded.
— A clone, even though it possesses its own mind, still remains you. It can inherit any of your traits, even the ones you don't notice in yourself or try to suppress. And if you manifest such a being, there's a high probability that the two of you will become best friends. — He kissed her forehead and held her even tighter. — I don't want you to become like me. I don't trust anyone. The only person I can be completely open with and who truly understands me is my own clone. I want you to find support in living people. Me, Luna, Grandmother...
— You can trust me too, — Adele interrupted confidently.
He looked at her with tenderness.
— I know, dear. And I am trying. But as it happens, ever since I was a child, I've only ever been able to rely on myself. My best and most reliable friend is me. Now it's incredibly difficult for me to open up to others.
Adele nodded understandingly and pressed herself against his chest once more.
— Grandmother mentioned once that you would never change.
— Really? — Victor was surprised.
— Yes. When you were unconscious, I asked her why you do all of this. And she replied that this is simply who you are. She said that if I want to stay by your side, I have to accept you exactly as you are. Crazy, ambitious... a murderer. — She uttered the last word in a barely audible whisper.
Victor smirked.
— So she did tell you about my past after all?
Adele didn't answer, merely giving a brief nod.
Victor felt a strange warmth spread through his chest. Even after learning everything about him, Adele had chosen to stay. That was a heavy choice, even for a child as broken as she was. Through the eyes of his clone, he had watched her in the Chamber of Secrets—he had seen how cold-bloodedly she forced Lockhart to use dangerous magic, knowing full well that Ron's wand was broken. In that moment, he had felt afraid for her.
He himself had grown hardened over the years spent among the Death Eaters. When he committed his first murder, he had felt nothing but wild exhilaration and relief. Adele was just like him. She lived with the thought that it would have been better if she didn't exist; she had grown to hate the God she loved in her childhood, and along with Him, the rest of the world. But there was still a difference. She hadn't plunged into the darkness entirely just yet. And now, knowing who he truly was, she didn't push him away; instead, she faithfully waited for him to open his eyes. It was a damn good feeling.