Prosapia Aenigmatis - The Family Riddle

Chapter 9

Quinn was smirking at the twins when she heard a shriek from the kitchen. Mr. Weasley was at a Ministry event with Bill and Percy. Only Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen, fixing a pot of hot chocolate.

All of the Weasleys dashed into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was holding a piece of parchment and clutching her chest. Charlie and George reached her first. They each read the note over her shoulder and exchanged looks.

"I'll check the basement," George said hurrying off.

"Everybody let's get upstairs," Charlie said, trying to herd them all away. Quinn followed Ginny but looked back in confusion.

A second later the door banged open. Five men in black hooded cloaks seemed to float over the threshold into the house. They were wearing horrible masks and held their wands pointed out. The Weasleys and Quinn froze, leaning back as one.

The man in the front suddenly grabbed Quinn and pulled her to him. She shrieked but he was too strong for her. He pointed his wand at her throat and Quinn looked helplessly at the Weasleys. She tried not to wiggle because his hands were painfully tight on her forearms.

"Put your wands on the table and we won't have any accidents," he said in a lazy voice. The Weasleys fumbled into their pockets and produced the wands. They placed each one on the table and stood huddled in a close group. Mrs. Weasley looked absolutely petrified with worry.

Quinn tried not to think about the man who held her. He wore cold leather gloves and his hands were terribly strong. If she tried to move, he pulled her closer to him and tightened his grip on her arms. Quinn looked at the Weasleys with wide eyes.

Death Eaters, she realized now. These were You-Know-Who's followers. These men had probably killed people. They tortured Muggles for fun and they would have no problems hurting her. Quinn had read all about the horrible things the Death Eaters had done. Nothing in those books could have prepared her for this feeling: one of these sadistic men standing so close to her. Quinn looked over at Fred briefly. He was pale, drawn, and afraid. Quinn didn't want to look at him.

"You two," the tallest Death Eater spoke now, pointing at the two men in the rear. Quinn furrowed her brow, trying to look up at the man. The Death Eater that was holding her tightened his grip, forcing her to face forward. Quinn let out a small whimper at the grip on her arms. "Go get it. Now!" the taller man continued. The three shorter Death Eaters headed for the basement. Quinn looked back up at Fred, horror stricken. George was still down there.

The Death Eater holding Quinn was hurting her arms so badly she began to squirm. His grip increased until she yelped in pain. To her surprise, the taller Death Eater approached and released Quinn from the other man's grip.

"Go help them downstairs," the man said. Quinn's previous captor merely stood there, staring at the taller man. The tall Death Eater gently guided Quinn back to the group of Weasleys. Quinn felt her eyes widen. The voice, she knew that man's voice.

"Go!" the tall Death Eater said with a stern voice. The other man stalked away. Quinn looked up at the remaining cloaked man. She knew that voice anywhere but...it couldn't be. Quinn tried to deny it in her mind, tried to think of another explanation for Aislinn's father, Mr. Macnair, to be there.

As Quinn thought about him pushing her out of the way, releasing her from the other man's grip, she came to realize the obviousness of the truth. No doubt it was he. Aislinn had asked him to keep her safe. Quinn sat deathly still trying to wrap her mind around these thoughts. A horrible shriek filled the air and the Weasleys gasped as one. Fred tried to make a break for the basement but Mr. Macnair pointed his wand directly at him. Charlie grabbed Fred by the robes and pulled him back. Another soft cry fell on their ears followed by the sound of hurried footfalls.

The other four Death Eaters walked back into the room and nodded at Mr. Macnair. They all backed slowly to the door and left as quickly as they had arrived.

The Weasleys and Quinn rushed down to the basement, Fred in the lead. Quinn couldn't see for a few moments but as they reached George she gasped. He was lying on the floor near a small hole in the wall, pale and unconscious. Fred and Mrs. Weasley were trying to wake him. Fred was shaking him desperately, trying to force him into consciousness. Quinn sat there, feeling completely numb as she looked at George's unmoving body. She saw that he was breathing and let out a sigh of relief.

"Get your father!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked to Charlie in a strangled voice. Charlie tore back up the stairs. Quinn watched Fred, still shaking his twin. No one else seemed able to move. Without realizing it, Quinn reached out and took Fred's hand, pulling him away from George. Fred had a solitary tear traveling down his cheek. Quinn had never seen anything so heart wrenching. She squeezed Fred's hands in her own.

Before Quinn could say anything, several people flowed down the stairs. Quinn looked up to see Arthur Weasley at the head of the pack, followed shortly by Charlie and two of Quinn's old professors, Lupin and Moody. Quinn stepped back as still more people entered the room and rushed toward George. Professor Lupin and a black-haired man examined George and talked quietly. Arthur hugged Molly tightly to his side and looked anxiously at George.

"The Cruciatus," the black-haired man said grimly. Quinn felt Fred grip her hand painfully hard but tried not to wince. She studied the black-haired man instead. "We need to get him to St. Mungo's." Professor Lupin conjured a stretcher and levitated George on top of it.

Mass confusion followed. While George, Arthur, and Molly went to St. Mungo's, the rest of the family was forced to tell their rendition of the events of the night. Quinn finally got a glance at the note, which had arrived minutes before the Death Eaters.

Mum and Dad,

Harry just had a dream, he's not sure if it was real, but he woke up with his scar hurting. He dreamed that the Death Eaters were coming to the Burrow. Some sort of strength potion is hidden in the south wall. You-Know-Who needs it. We are going to tell Professor Dumbledore now.

Ron

Apparently Professor Dumbledore had sent Professor Lupin and his associates straight to the Burrow upon hearing about the dream, but it was too late.

Professor Moody came over to ask Quinn and Fred what had happened. Quinn was busy watching the dark-haired man. He kept glancing nervously toward her and away again. He seemed so familiar.

The man dropped his quill and hurriedly reached to pick it up. Quinn felt her jaw drop. He raked his hands through his hair and Quinn sputtered.

"That's...It's...." Quinn stuttered, pointing over at the man. It was Sirius Black! Professor Moody gave Quinn a shrewd look.

"Yep that's him. But Ms. Finnigan, he's here because Professor Dumbledore trusts him. Are you going to argue with Professor Dumbledore?" Quinn looked over at the Sirius Black, a mere shadow of the blissfully handsome man from the calendar.

He was still very handsome, but the playful, carefree, and arrogant smirk was long gone from his worried face. His eyes were perhaps the most beautiful things Quinn had ever seen. He looked over at her now and Quinn blushed deep crimson, remembering what she had seen in the calendar. She looked back at Professor Moody and gave him her full attention once again.

"Do you have any idea who they were?" His gruff voice brought her back into herself. She hesitated as she clearly remembered the voice of someone who was almost a father to her.

"No," Quinn whispered, shaking her head.

Once everyone got a clear picture of the events of that night they all took Floo powder to St. Mungo's. Quinn let go of Fred's hand for the first time and walked into the fire.

* * *

Aislinn and Draco walked back to the Manor in silence. Aislinn couldn't speak, she couldn't think of anything besides what she had just seen. How could this be real? When they reached her room, she mumbled goodnight to Draco and drifted over to the window seat. Her room was overlooking the area of the garden where the meeting had taken place just minutes before, but now the grounds were empty. Aislinn grabbed a pillow and hugged it close to her chest.

Voldemort! Aislinn couldn't believe it. How could her father be associated with that disgusting, hideous man? Voldemort was terrible. The things she read about that he had done made her blood run cold, and her father was apparently doing them, too. Her father! Walden Macnair, a Death Eater! How could her father, who worked for the Ministry of Magic, be a Death Eater? There had to be something going on, she just could not accept this. Her father was a kind, giving man. Not a cold-blooded follower of the most evil wizard of the century. If you could even call Voldemort a wizard. He seemed more like a twisted snake experiment that had gone horribly wrong.

Her heart was breaking. She loved her father more than anything else in the world. She had based that love mostly on her father's kind heart and his loving nature. Her love for him had obviously been based on a lie. How could this be real? How could she not have known about this? Why hadn't he told her? Why hadn't her mother? Her mother! How could her mother be with a man that was unmistakably evil? Had her mother known about this before they were married? The questions were coming into Aislinn's head one after another.

Mr. Malfoy had also been there! She had glimpsed his true nature before, but she had never imagined him this bad. He was truly a disgusting man! With every fiber in her being Aislinn wanted to leave. She wanted to go to the Weasley's and be with Quinn. Quinn would make her feel better; she always knew the right thing to say.

Aislinn thought back to the meeting they had witnessed. Voldemort had said something about not wanting anyone killed. Were they planning an attack? She pondered this for a moment before another thought entered her mind. Had her father killed before? Had he used the Unforgivables? This was too much for her to bear. Did Draco think he was doing her a favor when he brought her to watch? Aislinn wished she hadn't gone. She hated Draco, she hated Lucius Malfoy, she hated her father, but most of all she hated herself. How could she have been so blind and stupid about everything? Two weeks ago Aislinn's world was normal. She did her Potions homework and thought about boys. Now she was in a world full of lies and deceit, wondering what atrocities her father had committed. She was now terrified of older men and didn't trust anyone anymore. Aislinn lay down on her bed replaying the scene over and over.

The smell of the sheets kept bringing her mind back to the study and Aislinn couldn't take it anymore. She got up and pulled the sheets off the bed. She then pulled the pillows out of their cases and threw them on the floor. Aislinn looked at the crumpled pile of black silk sheets on the floor and slowly they began to take the shape of Lucius Malfoy, and then Voldemort. Aislinn knew this was all in her mind but she didn't care. She tore wildly at the sheets, crying as she ripped them to shreds. She pictured the men's faces and she wanted to hurt them. Hurt them like they had hurt her. Hatred like she had never known filled Aislinn to her very soul. She knew that she would never again be the person she had been two weeks ago. That girl was gone. The Aislinn that existed now was an unforgiving and untrusting one.

When the biggest piece remaining was no larger than a galleon, she collapsed on the floor sobbing in rage. Why had her life gone this way? Aislinn couldn't stand to think of it any longer. She slowly climbed up into the bed, pulled her robes around her tightly for cover and went to sleep.

* * *

Quinn had never been to St. Mungo's before. Her mother had always been fairly good with healing charms so they rarely needed to visit the doctor. When she stepped out of the fire Quinn was overcome with an icky feeling. It was the plain white walls that gave her that feeling. Although it was funny to think of; she found stone much more comforting.

Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Percy were all fidgeting in a waiting room near the end of the hall. The group of Weasleys, Quinn, and Dumbledore's operatives sat and stood silently. All Mr. Weasley was able to say was, "She's in with George and the doctors now."

There was a horrible silence as everyone tried to sit still. The seconds ticked by and Fred began to chew on his fingernails. Quinn had never seen him look so uncomfortable. Normally the twins, Fred especially, were never phased by anything.

The doctor approached soon and all the Weasleys seemed to stop breathing. Fred was still chewing on his nails and Mr. Weasley was twirling his wand slowly in his hands.

"George is still unconscious. We've given him pain-relief charms and we think he'll snap out of it. When the brain undergoes the Cruciatus it often shuts down temporarily. We think he should wake up in a few days." The doctor led the way back to George's room.

The family plus Quinn and Professor Lupin, silently entered the room. George lay on crisp white sheets in a small bed in the center of the room. He was very pale and sickly looking. A large purple bubble hovered above him. Quinn had read about these bubbles; they helped track vital medical information and could be programmed to dispense healing charms. Normally she might have found them fascinating.

Mrs. Weasley was seated next to the bed with both her hands grasping one of George's. Her eyes were terribly red and she didn't even look up as everyone filed in. Fred immediately kneeled by the bed and grasped George's other hand. Mr. Weasley held his wife, both of them shaking a little.

Quinn stood near the door, lost in thought. She was remembering Aislinn's many complaints about the Gryffindors. Aislinn also had run-ins with the Weasleys themselves. How long had she known that this attack was coming? Quinn had no doubt that Aislinn had known. If Mr. Malfoy had been one of the Death Eaters, and Quinn had no doubt he was, then Aislinn must have seen them preparing for tonight. How long had she known about her father?

* * *

The morning of the day she would be returning to Hogwarts had finally arrived. Aislinn had never been more ready to leave a place in her entire life. She was sitting on the window seat in her room at the Manor, desperately trying to complete her Arithmancy essay for Professor Vector. Aislinn started slightly when she heard a knock at her door. She glanced around the room nervously looking for her wand, in case she needed to defend herself. Mr. Malfoy hadn't tried anything since that night in the study, but she was still very apprehensive. Aislinn located her wand on the table next to the bed and quickly grabbed it before saying, "Come in."

The door opened and Draco walked in, grinning ear to ear. Aislinn eyed him cautiously as he proceeded across the room toward the window seat. Over the course of the past few days, Aislinn had determined that she didn't trust Draco Malfoy any farther than she could throw him.

"I have absolutely wonderful news. Father has just been to see me." His voice was filled with the customary arrogance that she had grown used to, but it was now also filled with an excitement he was unable to quell. "It seems that there will be one less Weasley at Hogwarts when we return."

"What do you mean?" Aislinn asked him uneasily. She wondered if one of the Weasley children had been in an accident.

Draco looked puzzled for a moment and his grin vanished. "Don't you remember the conversation our fathers had with the Dark Lord at the meeting? The attack they were planning? Our fathers and a few of their colleagues went to the Weasley home to retrieve the potion for Lord Voldemort. One of those pesky brats got in the way and there was a little-accident." His grin had returned and was now so evil that Aislinn shifted in her seat and felt a shiver move down her spine. She was shocked and she began thinking madly. Her father had attacked the Weasleys; she couldn't believe it. Then a horrifying thought occurred to her-Quinn! Quinn would have been there; she would have seen it all. Aislinn desperately hoped that her friend hadn't been harmed. What if Quinn had seen Aislinn's father? What if Fred had been the one hurt by the Death Eaters? Quinn would never forgive her; Aislinn was angered once again. What in the Hell had gone so wrong with her life? Aislinn decided to see how much information she could get out of Draco.

"Which Weasley was it that got hurt?" Aislinn tried to snicker, but didn't imagine that she was very successful. Draco didn't notice however, he seemed bursting to tell her the news.

"It was George." His smile was so bright that she began to feel the familiar weakness come over her. Aislinn held strong and refused to let it take hold, she hated him more than she ever thought possible and would not let her body's weakness cloud her mind. "Seems George got in my father's way as he went to retrieve the potion. My father then put him under the Cruciatus Curse. I suppose he left it on a little longer than necessary because that red-haired twerp went unconscious. He is now in St. Mungo's, in a coma." Draco looked as if he were trying hard not to giggle with glee. He was positively triumphant when he spoke his last words and seemed beyond proud that his father had been the downfall of the poor boy.

Aislinn felt the hatred fill her entire being. She had never detested anyone so completely as she did Lucius Malfoy. The thought of him sickened her so severely that she almost vomited on the spot. She closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths. Aislinn could feel Draco's eyes on her, studying her reaction.

"What's the matter with you?" He spat the words at her in almost the same disgusted manner that he spoke to the Gryffindors. Aislinn began to panic. She couldn't let him know how she truly felt; she had to think quickly.

"Nothing, I was just beginning to feel ill at the thought of those insufferable Gryffindors moaning and whining about their hurt friend." That was perfect, she thought. Draco then sneered and rolled his eyes.

"I hadn't thought of that." His face fell slightly before he regained his composure. Draco was probably upset that he couldn't torment the Gryffindors about this. "No one can find out that my father, our fathers were the ones responsible. No one must know that they serve the Dark Lord." He then sat down next to her and smiled malevolently. "But we will know." Draco's eyes lit up profoundly at the thought of their secret. Aislinn wanted nothing more than to take her wand and curse him into next week. How could he be so joyful at the thought of his father being associated with one of the most evil wizards of all time? She had been, and still was; deeply disturbed to learn that her own father was a follower of Voldemort. A question formed in her head and she voiced it without thinking.

"How did my father come to be a Death Eater? Was it because he was in Slytherin?" Aislinn was honestly curious about this subject. Draco pondered this question for a while and Aislinn sat patiently waiting for him to reply. She knew that pressing him to hasten his answer would only bring about a malicious retort. Draco stood and turned to face her.

"This is the story that my father has told me numerous times. As if I could ever forget it." Draco cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. He then began conjuring something that looked oddly like a cane, out of thin air. Aislinn was floored. Conjuring was very advanced magic. Draco must have noticed her astonished look. "My father taught me how to do that years ago when I was constantly asking for things. He always said 'Ignorance is bliss only if you are the ignorant one. For everyone else it is Hell because they have to put up with your stupidity.' He told me he would not have an ignorant son who couldn't do simple spells." Draco maintained his usual cold look of indifference while he studied her for her reaction.

"Your father is such a charming man," Aislinn replied with disgust.

He sneered. "Do you want to continue insulting my father, or do you want to hear the story of yours?" Draco gave her a warning look and she sat down, gesturing for him to continue. He cleared his throat again and grasped the cane. He held his head high and cocked an eyebrow. She felt her body begin to shudder at the accuracy of his impression but Draco didn't seem to notice. "Draco," he began "I demand that you to give me your full attention. This is the story of how the Dark Lord became the wonder that he was. It is a story that will be told for generations. You should feel privileged to be so closely connected with such a great man." Draco seemed to glow with pride at the last sentence he spoke and then continued. "One day you will take your place beside him, as our family has for three generations, and do his bidding to make the world we live in a better place." Draco stopped again and looked down at her. He gave her a cold smile. "Are you ready to find out who you really are, Macnair?"

"Uh, I suppose I have no choice, do I?" she asked him nervously. She looked down at her hands and bit her lip. When she looked back up into his gray eyes, she could have sworn he looked confused. But that was immediately replaced with the unfeeling look that was always present there.

He stood calmly and examined her for a moment. His face broke out into its usual arrogant smirk. "There is always a choice to be made," he finally said. "You asked me if I knew the reason your father became a Death Eater and I told you yes. My family knows the whole story. You wanted to know. Do you still?" The tone of his voice made her want to cringe. She had previously thought it to be wonderful and smooth. Now she thought it was arrogant and self-appreciating. Draco's voice was very much like his father's. In fact it was the same tone Mr. Malfoy had used- that night. Aislinn suppressed that thought; she never wanted to think about that again.

She lifted her chin up and squared her shoulders. "Yes, I do want to know. I am not here to play games with you Draco; I just want to know what you know about my family. And if you won't tell me the story, I am sure my father will."

He let out a small laugh. "All right then, I will tell you. But I must say Aislinn, I didn't know you had it in you to be so . . . domineering." He raised an eyebrow. She looked warily at him. He was truly Lucius Malfoy's son in every sense of the word. He once again assumed his father's stance and began to speak. "When Tom Riddle was twenty nine years old he began formulating his plan to rid the Wizarding world of Muggle-borns and Mudbloods. He researched ways to become the most powerful wizard in the world and he came across something called the Aduageo potion. I will not tell you exactly what the potion does; young Draco, but I will tell you that it would make him the most powerful man on earth. The Dark Lord then decided that he wanted an heir to continue his work, should anything happen to him." Draco stopped again and looked at her cruelly. "Tell me Aislinn, have you ever heard of the Fairy Flag?"

She thought for a moment, it did sound familiar. "I have heard a little bit about it, but I just thought it was a Muggle legend." She could tell by his face that she should have known more about it.

He laughed and looked at her with contempt. "You of all people should know about this flag. It isn't just a Muggle legend." He sighed. Draco dropped the Lucius air and spoke, "There is a castle on the Isle of Skye . . ." Aislinn felt her hand move up to cover her mouth. She sat transfixed with her eyes wide with disbelief as she listened to Draco tell her the story.

When Draco finished speaking, Aislinn felt as though she were going to faint. She was physically sick at what she had heard. Aislinn wanted Draco out of her sight. She was disgusted at what he told her and she never wanted to be around any member of his family again. Aislinn tried to compose herself and put all her power into steadying her voice.

"Draco, thank you for the information. Now if you don't mind, I must get to my essay. You know how Vector is." Aislinn tried to smile. He nodded his head and turned to go. When he reached the door, he paused.

"We will be leaving for Kings Cross in an hour. One of the elves will be up shortly to pack your things." He bowed lightly and winked before leaving the room. Aislinn waited until she was sure he was a good distance down the hall. She pulled herself up from her seat and stumbled to the bathroom. She retched violently until she heard a small knock as a House-elf bustled into the room and packed her things. She sat numbly, watching the elf. When the elf finished, it left quickly and Aislinn began to cry.

She sobbed uncontrollably for a good while. When she felt she could cry no more, she pulled out her wand and tidied herself up. Aislinn made sure that her eyes were no longer red, and made her way down to the entry hall of the Manor. She didn't know if she could face her father after hearing the information Draco had divulged. And her mother, what kind of woman would marry a man who was connected with the Dark Lord? She felt as if her whole world was collapsing around her. She desperately wanted to see Quinn. She needed her best friend's reassurance that it would all be okay.