When Your Parents Tell You Bedtime Stories

17

There is no instinct like that of the heart.

~ Lord Byron

Sometimes the things that may or may not be true are the things we need to believe in the most.

~Secondhand Lions

"You think what?!" Persephone asked, sitting up more, although it hurt, to look at her companion of the past day.

"It's just a theory. But it makes sense."

"It doesn't make any sense!" Persephone slouched back down and thought over what Mirach had just told her. "You really believe it's true?"

"I don't know."

"I wish it was, if even for a moment. Because then it would mean that the monster that did this to me wasn't my father. And I'm not sure how I feel about it knowing that he is," Persephone admitted. "I guess I'll never get my wish though, huh?"

"What's that?" Mirach asked from beside her, where they were both resting back against the wall.

"For Draco Malfoy to be my father."

"Just because he's not your biological father doesn't change anything, Granger. He still raised you, he's still the man you call 'dad,' and he's still the person your heart will always consider first."

"You sodding Gryffindors and your nobility and kindness," Persephone replied laughing, glad that she was able to forget what she had gone through. "Your damned capacity to love," she continued. "Sometimes, although I'll never admit it, I wish that I could know what it would feel like to have emotions besides hate, anger, and a constant thirst to win."

Mirach looked over at the girl beside him, who was slightly propped against him for support. He knew she had just been through something nobody should ever have to experience. But, as he looked at the black hair falling into her face and her chocolate brown eyes that were glowing with tears that refused to fall, heart won over mind. "It's not such a bad thing," he whispered, bringing her head up to look at him with his hand. "To be able to love."

Mirach Achernar leaned in, his heart beating in his ears and his brain hollering 'no', and kissed Persephone Granger.

*******

Blaise Zabini looked up from his position on the couch and his drink in hand as two angry Aurors burst in through the front door. "Please, come in," he muttered, reaching for his wand and casting a sobering charm.

"Zabini," Malfoy growled crossing to the couch in two long strides and taking the man by the scruff of his neck. "Where is my daughter? What did you do to her? And when I find out, I'm going to kill you!"

"Malfoy," Harry Potter said, rushing over to the aid of his partner's quick temper. "Put him down. We don't even know for sure if he took them."

"Damn the Auror instincts in you, Potter. He took them, I can smell the guilt on him."

"All I can smell on you, Malfoy, old friend, is cheap cologne. Going for broke now days?" Zabini said, reaching up to release himself from Malfoy's death grip.

"You're not too far from the dog pound yourself, by the looks of it, Zabini," Malfoy growled, his voice laced with hate.

"Wow, touchy. You must really like this kid, huh?" Blaise said a casual sneer playing it's way across his lips.

"It's amazing, isn't it, Zabini, that something so wonderful can come from something so pathetic?"

"Ouch, Draco, old pal. That hurts." Blaise calmly finished off his drink and threw it into the fire, a habit he had picked up from his drinking buddy at Hogwarts. "You'll be happy to know that nothing has ever come from me. And, by the looks of it, nothing ever will."

"You're pissed, Zabini," Harry said crossing his arms across his chest.

"He cast the sobering charm," Malfoy put in noticing the effects of the spell he had once used so often.

"Very good, ten points to Slytherin," Zabini said laughing. "I'm not crazy, Potter," he spat in the other man's direction. "Persephone isn't mine. Bet you're happy to hear that?"

"What are you going on about, Zabini?" Malfoy said darkly.

"Very funny tale actually," Blaise said sitting back down on the couch. "Hope you have the time to stick around and hear it." Malfoy shot daggers at the man but reluctantly took a seat to show he was listening. "Great. Drinks all around? No?" Blaise asked at the expressions. "Fine. To the story, then. You see, when Persephone was still unconscious, after I'd gotten her back here, I performed a handy little charm. Perhaps you've heard of it."

"Zabini..." Harry said impatiently, dragging out the name.

"Right. Well, the damnedest thing. Turns out Persephone isn't even related to me. Isn't that funny?" Blaise looked around at the bored looks. "No? Well, this will crack you up, Malfoy. You'll never believe who her real father is. Harry Potter!" Blaise's mad laughing sounded throughout the room, and it was the only sound being made.