When Your Parents Tell You Bedtime Stories

15

Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. For even the very wise cannot see all ends.

~ J. R. R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Persephone was backed against the corner of the office, her mind racing. She knew there was no way out. Is this the fear her mother had gone through? She didn't know what would happen, but a part of her said she did. "Innocent?" she stuttered out for the first time.

Blaise Zabini just nodded hungrily, still coming at the teenager in the shadows. She could run, but she had no where to go. Blaise was the creator of this game, and he always won. He reached out and wrapped a hand gingerly around her arm, pulling her back into the light harshly, and throwing her against the only furniture in the small space; an empty desk.

Was this man really her father? She had known about Draco Malfoy's faults her whole life, most of the time praying she could have every single one of them. But this man was a monster. He raped her mother, kidnapped her and Mirach, and now he was finally the first to succeed in scaring Persephone Rae Granger.

Persephone tried to back up farther, arching her backside completely over the desk before deciding to just climb up onto it, intending to go over to the other side of it. Of course, it was when she was on the desk that she realized the back was against a wall. She brought her frightened, pleading, brown eyes up to meet the laughing green ones. Was he playing games with her? Just trying to scare her? Well, it was working.

Blaise eerily continued until he was up against the front of the desk. "I'm going to try a spell on you," he said simply, his eyes smiling in a way he never could.

"W-what kind of spell?" Persephone choked out backing up against the wall.

"It's simple enough. It's just a test to find out who your real father is," Blaise replied casually.

"I thought you were...."

"Oh, I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am. But still, just to make sure before we get the whole father-daughter relationship going."

Persephone nodded, her fear easing. He just wanted to get to know her. To know, for certain, that she was in fact his daughter.

"Now, it's very complicated, so I need you to do everything I ask." Persephone nodded. "Take off your robe and it'll make it a lot easier. The spell wants to trap the essence of you, not all your clothing," he bit out with harsh sarcasm he knew Draco Malfoy often used. Persephone eased at his tone and shrugged off her cloak, setting it on the floor. "Now, the spell takes a while to work, so you should probably lie down so you don't get tired. Besides, it's easier for the spell to cover you if you're flat." Persephone nodded and spread herself out on the desk, her back on the hard wood. This would be easy; there was nothing to be afraid of....

*******

Mirach glanced at his cracked watch. Persephone had been gone for almost an hour already. Mirach had long ago put together all the missing information. It all made logical sense. All he had to do was talk to Persephone and possibly Draco Malfoy or Harry Potter...and then he would know that he had been right all along.

Mirach sat in the corner, leaning against the wall, and reached down to massage the muscles in his legs that still ached. There was still one question that was bothering him; what did Blaise Zabini want with Persephone? He thought she was his daughter. But the only possible solutions Mirach could come up with only applied if Persephone wasn't his daughter. Of course, he'd have to be a very sick man to entertain some of those thoughts....

Mirach stood up quickly, his mind racing. Of course! Blaise Zabini did know. He knew exactly what Mirach had spent the past hour figuring out. Blaise Zabini knew that Persephone Granger wasn't his daughter.

*******

Harry slouched against the desk in the room, watching as Malfoy carelessly tore through file after file, searching for the whereabouts of Blaise Zabini. He was so insistent. And, though Potter knew what Zabini was capable of, he couldn't imagine why. Blaise wouldn't do anything to harm his sole heir. After all, by the sound of things, he was completely out of luck in having any more. It seems Hermione Granger had been the only one to give Blaise any, and that was unwillingly.

Harry automatically shivered at the thought. It still pained him just to think of what Hermione had gone through. It just pained him to think of her, period. Why is it that all the people that deserve to die live so long when those that deserve to live the longest are taken so soon?

But there was some part of his conscience that made Harry feel guilty. Something he knew that no one else was aware of. His stomach cringed just to think of it. But then a smile spread across his face in wondrous memory.

He glanced over at the distraught blonde and couldn't help but feel happy when he saw how frustrated his enemy was. Harry Potter had done something right. Something more noble then deeds a book could tell you of. Something that deserved much more credit then saving the wizarding world from a madman. Harry Potter had been unselfish and let fate know it's place at the last moment. And one man was a different person because of it.

"Found it," Draco Malfoy said turning to his partner. "But we can't just apperate there. We're going to have to floo nearby and walk. It's in a muggle residential area, so we can't fly. What are you smiling at, Potter?"

"Is that a tear stain on your cheek?" Harry asked as the light of Malfoy's wand hit his face. Harry held back a chuckle.

"Let's go, Potter. We can't waste our time standing around here and letting you daydream about me, now can we?" Malfoy smirked and headed towards the door.

"Nobody would do that, Malfoy," Harry said as he went to close the door behind him. "Unless it involved an ax and a nearly-headless Draco Malfoy."

"Vision a headless Blaise Zabini at the moment, Potter. We might as well keep motivated in the right direction. Then you can dissect me in your dreams all you want."

"You could cry, Malfoy. I won't tell anybody," Harry said quietly as they made for the fireplace near their office. Draco remembered Hermione saying nearly the same thing to him twelve years ago.

"Malfoys don't cry, Potter. They get revenge."