SIX FEET UNDER
DEATH; IS THE THING TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE FEARED THE MOST. His most primal factor for creating his Horcruxes, yet… he can see that it was a mistake. There wasn’t enough research done on Horcruxes, but his younger self was so desperate to escape death - he cared not for the consequences. To hell with it, if his soul was ruined, Mrs. Cole already thought he was destined for Hell.
His reckless, stupid decision led him to this moment right now. He wasn’t even real, he was a Horcrux! For years, he tried to convince himself that he was the original soul piece – that he was real and wasn’t tying himself to Natasha like a parasite, but he could no longer deny it; he was a parasite.
Feeding on her life source, unknowingly changing her as a person, making her more and more like him. At times, he would look back and wonder, ‘What would Natasha be like as a person if he hadn’t attached himself to her?’ Would she be the same? Would be nicer? More submissive? Not sure of her place in the world?
Would she still have gone to the red-room, or would she still be with the Dursleys? Tom often wondered if he hadn’t interfered with her family, scaring her mother’s rotten, muggle family – pretty much convincing them she was the antichrist. Would she still be with them? What would’ve happened?
He knew what would happen – her childhood would pretty much parallel his. She wouldn’t be Natasha Romanoff, the child assassin, who rose from Rosa Potter’s ashes and took her place. She would just be Rosa Potter, the troubled child on Privet Drive. She wouldn’t be the person he knew to this day, and he didn’t know which one was better.
Hearing the familiar arrival of an elf, he turned around and took the letter numbly, barely paying the elf any attention as he shooed it away. Holding the letter gently, he traced the wax that held it closed, his fingers tracing the familiar ‘N’. He finally decided, he quite liked Natasha Romanoff the way she was, and he wouldn’t change it either way.
He went to open it, but hesitated, hearing light footsteps down the hall, coming towards his door. Quietly opening the drawer in his desk, he placed the letter in there, hiding it under old newspapers. His door opened and he turned around, his face neutral as he met the face of the original.
He resisted the urge to smirk as the light flickered off the gold arm – the arm that Natasha destroyed. Voldemort smirked, tilting his monstrous face to the side, “Self-pitying hours, I presume?” He questioned, moving around the room like a predator would stalking their prey. “I hope it’s not over that Potter girl – the whore.” He snarled the last word out, his red eyes narrowed in barely hidden fury.
Tom scoffed, shaking his head in annoyance, “You’re not one to talk – you’re still mopping over Abraxus Malfoy's rejection when we were just boys.” He retorted, draping himself over his chair, elegantly crossing his legs over one another. Voldemort’s eye twitched, his thin lips stretching up in a snarl. Tom smirked, knowing he played this right. “I can play this game all day, you do know? I’m in this room all day unless you want someone to throw all your frustrations out on. You’re me; I know all the cards to play to make us twitch in the right places.” His voice was smug, he knew that, but… it felt good to have a win.
Voldemort huffed, his robes flowing behind him elegantly as he left the room.
Tom found that being Lord Voldemort had no appeal to him anymore, and he knew one thing – he wouldn’t make the same mistakes as his original did.
Natasha grunted, ducking out of the way of the spell being sent her way, ducking behind one of the mannikins the room supplied, taking a moment to catch her breath. She had to admit, the 7th year was good, but she was better – it was her who taught that 7th year those spells.
The room was quiet, as the students watched behind a shield with bated breath. It was Natasha’s idea to give them an example of a duel, but not one of those fancy ones – the ones you would face in real life. There weren’t rules in real life when fighting, it was either you or the opponent. Looking around, she searched for any weaknesses and what she could use to her advantage.
The 7th year seemed to have the same idea, looking around for anything they could use. However, they made a mistake by leaving an opening. “Stupefy!” She whispered, watching as the student flew across the room. Wasting no time, she summoned ropes and flicked her wrist in a pattern, watching the student be tied up.
The crowd was silent, shocked by the whole duel. Before the student could fall onto the floor harshly, she wished for the room to have a soft floor. When he bounced up from the fall, the silence was broken as the students cheered and laughed, some rushing over to Natasha and the rest heading over to the tied-up student, who Natasha finally realized was one of the Weasley twins. Honestly, she was so into her head, she forgot who she was fighting in the first place.
“Bloody hell,” the only female Weasley shouted, rushing up to Natasha with stars in her eyes, “I’ve never seen George get his ass handed to him so fast!” Her smile was huge, almost splitting across her face as she continued to blather.
Her older brother, who was limping over to Ginny with her brother, cleared his throat. “Oii, Gin! You’re supposed to cheer for me, not celebrate over my loss!” However, he didn’t seem too pissed, an easy-going smile on his face. Ginny rolled her eyes, and stepped out of the way, letting George take her place. He held out his hand, “Nice duel.”
“Yeah, you too–” She stopped, staring down at their hands in shock as it let out a loud, farting noise. She blinked, looking up at the smirking faces of the Terror Twins, “Do you want me to kick your ass? ‘Cause I can, and will.” Her voice was completely serious, but after a moment, she couldn’t hold in her giggles.
Honestly, she should’ve seen that coming, but she was so exhausted after the fight, that she didn’t even notice the small ball on George’s hand. Shaking her hand in amusement, she said dryly, “I swear, you’re worse than Clint and Yelena combined.”
The twins tilted their heads to the side, and said, “Who?” She shuddered, freaked out that they both said it at the same time. “Uh,” She licked her dry lips, thinking of how to say this. Honestly, she didn’t really wanna talk about her siblings, but the wizarding world already knew about them, since Rita Skeeter somehow found out about them and got pictures of them. Letting out a sigh, she continued, “They’re my siblings – they prank me all the time. You guys would probably get along with them.”
They hummed, seemingly having a conversation with their eyes. They shrugged, throwing their arms over each others’ necks, “Okay! Tell them about our business! We would love any suggestions!” And with that, they walked away.
The red-head blinked, before shaking her head in annoyance.
God, she did not need them to meet each other.
Dolores Umbridge’s plan was not going to plan, and it was all because of that stupid Potter girl!
Leaning back into her office chair, she closed her eyes, a peaceful expression on her face as she listened to classical music. Grabbing her wand, she summoned her checklist of things she needed to do. Looking it over, she narrowed her eyes as she realized she needed to change something in her schedule. Clearing her throat, she waved her wand – a piece of parchment and self-writing quill flying towards her.
“I need to change the meeting time with the Minister… perhaps earlier in the day?” She mused quietly, her breathing calm and even. However, she noticed something was off… there was no sound of the quill scratching against the parchment. “Also, find a way to deal with that Potter girl…” Peaking open her eyes, she sat up from her chair, a startled look on her face as she locked eyes with Natasha.
Natasha smirked, shrugging her left shoulder elegantly, “You know if you wanted to get rid of me so badly – you could’ve just droned on about how you have the hots for the Minister and all the weird, freaky fantasies you have about him.”
Umbridge fumed, a look of outrage on her face. Her eyes trailed over to the candle Natasha was holding, who quickly lit it up with a flick of her finger. Umbridge could feel it inside of her, the feeling of her magic being drained from within her. There was no warmth inside her anymore, and that scared her – made her feel weak; defenseless. “You don’t look so good, Professor Umbridge,” The girl mocked, a look of false concern on her face, “You should probably sit down before you pass out.”
She went to go reach for the wand, only to find it in Natasha’s hand, who dangled it in front of her with a smirk on her face. “Our magic won’t work in here, Professor – which means none of your freaky torture devices won’t work either. However, I still have all my non-magical weapons and my skills; what do you have?”
It was at this moment, Dolores knew she was fucked. Gripping the edge of her seat, she stared down the taller girl, who glided across the classroom, dragging her fingertips across anything she could reach. “You’re a freak! An abomination like all those half-blooded creatures!” The woman hissed, a vein popping out of her forehead. Natasha chuckled, turning around with an amused smile on her face.
“You can’t be talking, Professor. Your father was, after all, a goblin. Granted, he was a half-one, but that still means you have creature blood in you.” It was then, that Natasha took in the woman’s real features. “Your magic can only hide so much.”
Baring her teeth, Umbridge went to stand up but quickly found herself being pushed back down into her chair. Taking in a deep breath, she chided, “My Vanity aside, a thing like you shouldn’t exist. You shouldn’t be… whatever the hell you are!”
Natasha tilted her head to the side, a contemplating look on her face, “You know what, Professor – you’re right. A person like me shouldn’t exist, but the world is cruel like that; it needs people like me to survive.” She acknowledged.
Gulping, Umbridge licked her dry lips, “What do you want?” She gritted out.
“That’s the spirit, Professor.” Grinning, Natasha pulled a chair from one of the desks and sat down, crossing her leg over the other. “You know, we could’ve just got straight to the point, but you decided you just had to insult me…”
“What. Do. You. Want?”
Leaning back in her chair, she stared down at the woman, who squirmed in discomfort. “I just wanted to talk… Unless you’re gonna refuse your student who came to you?” She exaggerated, rolling her eyes with a dramatic flair of her wrist. “I have to admit, it’s quite fun for me to watch you squirm – always looking over your shoulder…”
“...Why?”
“Because I have to keep you on a leash, of course. You have to do everything I say, and in return - I don’t kill you.” Giving the woman a cheerful smile, she clasped her hands together, taking great pleasure as fear flashed through her eyes. ‘She finally realized how deep this situation is,’ Natasha thought, giving herself a deep sense of Deju Vu, ‘Jesus, I’m acting like a mini Tom Riddle 2.0.’ Snapping out of her thoughts, Natasha tilted her head to the side, a piece of her auburn hair falling in front of her eyes. “You’re finally getting it, aren’t you? You’re only alive is because it’s convenient for me. As soon as I have no use for you, you’ll find yourself six feet under.”
Umbridge flinched, her hands shaking – her eyes glancing towards her wand. “You’re a monster.”
She was unaware of it, but her eyes briefly flashed red, “No, Professor; you’ll find no monster like me.”
Yelena clenched her jaw shut, her nostrils flared as she stared down at the paper in front of her. It was Remus who suggested she try and go to school, but she was now deeply regretting that choice. The letters moved across the paper, a mild headache forming with how hard she was clenching her jaw. Letting out a grunt of frustration, she flung the paper across the room with a snarl.
“Jesus, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Natasha asked as she stepped into the blonde’s room. Yelena glared at her older sister, who simply raised her hands in surrender, “Don’t give me that look, I was just asking. What’s got you so frustrated?”
Closing her blue eyes, she took in a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before releasing it. Immediately, she was able to feel her heartbeat slow down as she continued this for a few moments. Once she deemed it good enough, she opened her eyes and met the concerned gaze of her sister. She could feel the tension leave her body as she finally let herself relax. “I can’t read these stupid words! They keep moving!” She exclaimed, her right hand gesturing to the fallen paper.
Picking it up, Natasha raised an eyebrow as she looked it over. A memory she hadn’t thought of popped up in her mind, and she hummed, “You know, I remember you having trouble with words. Melina tried getting you diagnosed with dyslexia and ADHD, but Alexei and Dreyko thought it wasn’t necessary. Something about, ‘she’s going to be a killing machine, what’s the point of her getting diagnosed with something if we’re not gonna do anything about it.’” Yelena snorted, rolling her eyes at Natasha’s bad impression of Alexei. Gesturing to the paper, Natasha asked, “Do you want me to help you with this?”
Nodding frantically, Natasha chuckled and made her way over to Yelena’s desk, pulling an extra chair over. “What grade did they decide to put you in? 6th?” The red-head questioned as she made herself comfortable. Letting out a hum of agreement, Natasha grabbed the ruler on the desk, blocking off the rest of the words except one. “I used to do this with you - block off all the words except one. Alright… what do you think this says?”
Squinting her eyes, Yelena chewed the bottom of her lip as she tried to concentrate – blocking out all the sounds, and putting all of her focus on that one word. Muttering out each letter, she looked up to Natasha for approval. Giving her sister a small smile, Natasha tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “You’re close – you only mixed up the order of two letters. The ‘L’ goes first. So… what do you think it says?”
“...Delicate?” She sounded unsure of herself, which if Natasha was being honest, was something she rarely ever heard from her sister. “Russian is so much more different from English… It’s hard for me to translate things.” She admitted, her lips turned downwards in a frown.
Placing her hand on top of her sisters’, she gave the blonde a reassuring smile. “It was hard for me at first… You know, when we first moved to Ohio, I was given a crash course on English – it’s hard learning a new language, while also getting rid of an accent. You were young enough so we just played you off by being quiet.” Letting out a chuckle, a look of nostalgia formed on her face, “Funnily enough, I remember you being so obsessed with Myths, you just… picked up the languages so easily and flew through them at an alarming rate. Alexei always tried to ruin it by saying it would be used for good when you became an assassin, instead of just… congratulating you.”
Scoffing, Natasha rolled her eyes, “You know, I always wanted to punch him when I was younger. He thought the red room was this great thing – that by sending us there, we would become these powerful women, strong enough to take on the world but… that didn’t seem to be the case, was it?...” Trailing off, Natasha’s breath hitched as she finally realized something. Letting out a distressed chuckle, she shook her head – an incredulous smile on her face, “I…I would hit him in a heartbeat now, all of this anger and resentment I’ve had for him just kept growing and growing and I’ve found… it’s never gone away, Yelena. But the sad part is… I still love him.”
Yelena hummed, licking her dry lips in response, “It is the funny part… You would think, even though they’ve hurt and damaged you beyond repair, you would hate them…” Tears welled up in her eyes, blinking frantically as she tried to push them down, “But, every time I think I hate him – all the memories of a loving family come rushing back, and all I want is my dad.” Both the sisters shared a look, understanding flashing through their eyes. Tilting her head to the side, her fingers messing with her braid, “Do you ever wonder what happened to him? To… Mom?”
Sadness clouded Natasha’s features, her hand gripping Yelena’s tighter, “Well, for dad… I have a feeling that he got what was coming for him – for being so damn trusting and gullible.” Taking in a deep breath, she went forward, “As for mom, I… I know she’s most likely dead, but I like to imagine she got out and was living a normal life.”
“She finally got her pig farm she always talked about,” The blonde added, a soft smile on her face as they reminisce about their mom, “She still lives in Ohio, and goes to marriage counseling every week with dad.”
Natasha couldn’t help it; she let out a little snort. Therapy and Alexei? It sounded like a bad sitcom pilot. “She runs a food blog and starts arguments with people online about whether or not Pineapple belongs on Pizza.”
Yelena nodded in agreement, her tears slowly drying up, “She allowed us to move to London - to go to a fancy school, and to reconnect with your family.” She cajoled, her smile wide enough to where Natasha was able to see her missing tooth, “She told us to follow our dreams.”
“Oh, yeah?” Raising an eyebrow, a curious expression flooded her features, “What that’s?”
“You’re getting a degree in science, and plan on being a science teacher,” She babbled, a happy look in her lightening-blue eyes, “I wanna be an architect. Build a bunch of cool buildings that define the laws of physics, and yell at old, rich, white-men when they say it’s a stupid idea.”
Looking off to the window, Natasha stared up at the full moon, a bittersweet smile on her face. It was nice, knowing that her sister still had some of that childhood innocence in her. Her heart longed for the life her sister just made up, but she knew it wouldn’t be possible. Having these… skills of hers, she might as well put them to use and try to do some good — even if that meant crushing her little dreams. “That is not our story.” Finally looking away from the window, she met the understanding eyes of Yelena, who simply replied,
“But it could be.”