The Death Eater's Daughter

Chapter Four - Rethinking First Impressions

She didn't sleep. Paranoia kept her awake throughout the night. She was certain that the Dark Lord had been fully informed of the evening's events and would be there at any moment to take all of them out.

After dozing off briefly at around two in the morning, she was startled by something and had a brief panic attack. The rest of the dark hours were spent in an attempt to focus her mind on reading, to no avail.

When morning arrived, having brought no enemies, Luci inadvertently had her very first meal in the dining room.

She had come down early, hoping that Narcissa and Draco would be prepared to leave. Instead, they were eating leisurely along the large table. They glanced up at her, but said nothing, so she sat down and cautiously helped herself to the food.

"It's almost eight," she said matter-of-factly, as she buttered a piece of toast.

"And?" answered Narcissa. She took a sip from a large mug.

"And that's when we're leaving."

"We've decided not to go."

Luci's eyes darted up to hers. It was a ploy.

"Have you?" she asked. "You've decided to face the Dark Lord's wrath then?"

Narcissa looked away.

"Well, I could use the Imperius curse on you," Luci suggested casually. It was something that she would have never said, but under the circumstances, force might be necessary.

This is when Draco spoke up with a frown. "But Mother says you're an Auror?"

"I'm also a Death Eater," argued Luci, trying not to trip over the sound of his voice. "We don't care much for rules, do we?"

The boy looked at her in interest, but said nothing. She felt sick, pretending to be something that she wasn't, but went on coolly, "So I assume you're both packed and ready?"

"Yes," said Narcissa.

"Ah, so you intended to come with me all along and were just being defiant?"

The woman didn't answer.

These were the most frustrating people that Luci had ever encountered. She wanted to slap them both. Instead, she swallowed her anger and kept her voice even. "There's no time for games here. The three of us have to stick together. We're not welcome where we're going."

"I still don't understand why we have to go there at all," complained Draco.

"After weighing all of the options, it's our best one," Luci explained.

Draco looked to his mother, who nodded grudgingly.

However, it took Luci enduring quite a bit more arguing and whining before she was able to gather the pair of them in the foyer with their belongings.

"Now," she began, "none of us like these circumstances, but we have to make the best of them for now. So just be grateful that the Order is putting up with us, okay? Try not to be... yourselves."

Narcissa huffed.

"I mean it," concluded Luci.

Then she reached out a hand to each of them, and the trio Apparated to Grimmauld Place.

It was a simple, Muggle street. Narcissa muttered something about all of this being beneath her. Luci ignored her and began to count down the house numbers, until they had arrived between number eleven and number thirteen. Much to her amazement, and a gasp from Draco, these two houses began to slide in either direction, giving way to another doorstep: number twelve.

Luci climbed the steps, with Narcissa and Draco reluctantly flanking her, and knocked. Her stomach was in knots, and she found herself secretly hoping that no one was home...

A tall, thin man with red hair answered the door.

"Ah, you must be Luci."

"Yes," she nodded, and her nerves clenched themselves more tightly still. This was it.

"Arthur Weasley," he replied, and though he let all three of them in, he disregarded the boy and his mother. Luci was suddenly ashamed of her companions.

"Come in and meet everyone, and then we'll find rooms for you. Just leave your trunks in the hall there."

They were led into a basement kitchen, which was filled with people. All eyes went instantly to the unwanted guests, and the air became heavy with unease. Arthur Weasley was calling out names, and people were stiffly welcoming them, but Luci had been admiring their accents and hadn't absorbed much of it. At least, not until she heard the name of Minerva McGonagall. This was the woman that Dumbledore had said Luci could trust most.

Luci nodded in greeting to everyone, while Narcissa and Draco had lingered in the doorway, their faces nearly green with the awkwardness of it all.

To her relief, at that moment, Arthur asked, "Now then, sleeping quarters, and after that, perhaps a little chat?"

"Yes," Luci agreed simply, wanting nothing more than to get out of this condemning spotlight.

Of course, she had been expecting quite an uproar at their appearance. It seemed, however, that discomfort was all that they would receive. She found herself almost calmed.

Arthur Weasley, after levitating all of their baggage, led the three of them out of the kitchen and up two flights of stairs, offering them three adjoining rooms. He indicated that the first was reserved for Luci. So Draco chose the middle of these, and he merely walked forlornly into the room, dragging his trunk, and closed the door. Narcissa, conversely, turned to the tall man.

"Nothing more appropriate to our status, I assume?"

Arthur looked momentarily stunned before replying, "I'm afraid this is all that's available."

"Very well," the woman sighed. "I shall live in squalor. For Draco's sake."

Then she gave them both a nasty grimace and shut herself into the farthest room.

"A bit dramatic, isn't she?" Arthur asked Luci, who rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, I don't know how much longer I can stand her."

"That's not encouraging," the man said as Luci deposited her possessions and closed the door to her own room. "We're counting on you."

They were heading back towards the kitchen now, and she replied uncomfortably, "I'm hearing that a lot lately."

Neither of them said anything more. Luci was simply hoping against hope that Draco and Narcissa would behave.

Back in the kitchen, the first comment was from a stout man with a strange, glass eye.

"Well, the resemblance is uncanny," he said gruffly.

"It's only physical," answered Luci, not wanting to be judged immediately upon a family to which she didn't even belong.

"I should hope so," a red-haired woman hissed.

Minerva countered, "Now, Molly, you know her history, and the Headmas-"

"Yes," spat Molly, "but genetics are genetics, and the Malfoy family-"

"I'm sorry," Luci interrupted angrily, "have I left the room?"

"No, no, please forgive Molly. She is very protective, and her children will be here soon. You understand?" This had come from a weary-looking man in the corner.

Luci shook her head, enraged at this kind of welcome while still completely sympathetic to it, and replied, "Of course, I understand. But genetics have nothing to do with anything. It's circumstances and upbringing, and there is absolutely no resemblance there."

"Very well, enough of this," said a tall black man. "On to matters of business."

A lovely blue-haired girl near Luci's age spoke first. "Luci, it's just Remus and me who'll be here with you. Otherwise, we have meetings nearly every day. We thought it best to have all of us here to greet you."

"Yes," said Remus, the weary man to whom she'd gestured. "The Weasleys will all move into the house a few days before Harry gets here. That is when I think you might have trouble with your brother."

She sighed. "Yeah, Dumbledore said something along those lines."

At the mention of the Headmaster's name, the room went silent with grief.

But the man with the glass eye grumbled, "Damn that Severus Snape!"

Luci's jaw nearly dropped open. Had she been the only one informed of Dumbledore's plan? And if so, why? She wanted to ask questions, but she kept her mouth shut.

The black man said, "Alastor, what's done is done. Now Luci, I've gathered some materials from the Ministry, and they should help you with preparing Draco for his N.E.W.T.s."

"If," added Minerva, "for any reason, he is unable to return for his seventh term at school, I will allow him to participate in the exams. Should he pass, he will graduate from Hogwarts, just as if he'd been there all year."

"That's very generous of you, Professor."

"Headmistress," Alastor corrected Luci.

And another heavy silence drifted through the inhabitants of the kitchen.

Luci was as devastated about Dumbledore's death as they were, but she was somehow comforted by the fact that he had chosen his path. She wanted to share this with them, tell them that he hadn't died in violence at all, but she didn't. If he had wanted them to know, he'd have told them. She knew that the only reason he had told her was because it was necessary for her to work with and trust Severus.

Finally, a melodic voice chimed, "Zis iz all vewy deprezzing. Bill, I vill see you at home, yes?"

The breathtaking blonde girl had been sitting beside yet another redhead. She got to her feet, and, at Bill's nod of approval, Disapparated from the spot.

"Fleur has a short attention span, I'm afraid," Bill apologized, and Luci nodded. She had been far too offended already to be insulted by the girl's exit.

"Now then," began the black man again, "aside from the people in this room, your relation will be kept in the strictest of confidence. The Order is always ready and willing to help, and we're pleased that we can provide protection, but we don't trust the boy or his mother, so we're counting on you to protect us from them, as well."

'Counting on you' again, Luci thought resentfully. With a deep breath, she responded, "That's... quite a request. I don't know that I'm up to it."

"Nonsense!" said Arthur. "If Kingsley thinks you're up to it, and Albus thought you were up to it, then I have no doubts."

She flashed him an appreciative smile. "Thank you. I'll give it all I've got, anyway."

"That's all anyone can do," said Remus.

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Luci's room at Grimmauld Place wasn't exactly "squalor," as Narcissa had described it, but the place was certainly in poor condition. The walls and ceilings were cracked, the carpet dingy. But she saw that she had a fireplace and wondered who had arranged this. Dumbledore himself, perhaps? She had seen a fireplace in his office, after all. Of course, she also had the medallion that Severus had given to her, if she needed to visit Hogwarts.

The bed and desk were simple, but better accommodations than she'd had at Malfoy Manor, so she couldn't complain. Her first thought was to sit down and write a letter to Kristen. Then she had a sudden panic that, if any of her friends responded to her previous letters, the owl might not know where to find her. This place was, after all, enchanted. Her heart sunk as she realized that she might not be able to have any communication with the outside world. She could attempt to leave the house, but if anyone saw her...

Tears stung at her eyes and she swore aloud. Was there a time when she'd had better control over her emotions? She supposed not, and hated herself for it.

She had taken on too much. Every fiber of her being had told her to refuse Dumbledore's invitation, and she was still unsure of what, exactly, had prompted her to accept. She'd known that she was incapable of all of it. Everyone seemed to think that being an Auror made you bullet proof. Well, of course, Luci was bullet proof... But that wasn't the point.

The point was that she didn't know why she'd become an Auror in the first place. In aptitude tests, it had been suggested to her. The academics of it were never a problem, but sometimes the execution of it eluded her. She had tendencies to be histrionic and impulsive and downright enraged. These qualities made for bad practice, despite the theories of numerous tests.

Though it was possible that theory and practice didn't correspond due solely to Luci's double-mindedness. Someone had called her that once: double-minded. And, sure, Luci knew that she was one big contradiction, but it had been a rude thing to say. Besides, regarding the same characteristics, her mother had always told her that she had a poet's spirit. And of this, she was very proud. Yes, it was highly likely that she'd chosen the wrong career...

But what else could she do? Scholarships had gotten her through her Ministry classes, and she and her mother were unable to pay for a Muggle university, where she might learn some enjoyable profession. Perhaps she'd settled. Just a little bit. And look where it had gotten her.

She realized that she was chewing on her thumbnail and promptly withdrew it from between her lips. Well, she couldn't just sit in this room alone for innumerable months, gnawing on keratin. So she sifted through the materials that Kingsley Shacklebolt have given her. Transfiguration, Charms, Potions... Would she be able to prepare Draco for his N.E.W.T.s? If she failed, he would fail. Of course, at least he'd be alive.

It probably wasn't prudent to leave him alone for very long. Even if his heart were a stone, he would have had to experience some kind of trauma from the recent events. Wouldn't he? If nothing else, Luci was growing bored already and imagined Draco might feel the same way.

If she went to his room, what would happen? Would he turn her away? Let her in? And if he did the latter, what would she say to him? She was over thinking it, and the longer she did this, the more awkward it would all become. So she forced herself to her feet, out of her room, into the hallway... and she knocked.

He opened the door, barely an inch, and demanded, "What is it?"

"Do you... want me to help you study at all?" stammered Luci, feeling her cheeks go red.

"It's holiday," he replied simply.

"Yes, but, seeing as how you might not be going back for your last term, and there isn't much else to do here, and it's only sensible to prepare yourself for your N.E.W.T.s, and I am available..."

Draco opened the door fully and stared down at her. They did not have height in common.

"Who are you, really?"

She blinked and gave the best answer that she could gather, "Let me help you study and you can ask anything you'd like."

Her brother frowned, and something about his entire demeanor had changed. Before, he'd seemed vulnerable, scared. Suddenly, now, it was as though none of it had happened, especially when he bit haughtily, "Who says I need help studying?"

"No one," she responded, slightly taken aback, "but it's far more fun with two people."

"Maybe when the other person isn't a complete stranger."

Luci smiled softly. "I don't have to be a stranger, you know."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Are you flirting with me?"

She nearly tumbled backwards from the shock, but instead managed to convey a simple look of horror.

"People flirt with me," he snapped. "Don't act like it's a ridiculous idea."

"I..." she faltered. Then she shook her head and retorted as calmly as she could, "You're a bit young for me, thanks. This is just my job. I'm sure plenty of girls would be thrilled though."

"They would."

Finally, he'd moved out of the doorway, allowing her into the room.

She strolled over to his desk and dropped the Charms textbook. She was so uncomfortable at this point that she regretted the entire idea. Perhaps he should know that she was his sister after all...

"So what is you want to teach me?" he cut into her thoughts.

"Today? Charms."

He scoffed. "A waste of time."

"Is it? How so?"

"Death Eaters don't need Charms," he said menacingly.

"Death Eaters don't get paid either," she replied. "And in order to find some kind of career, one must complete the required education. And that includes Charms."

"Fine," he huffed, and he sat down at the desk.

At that moment, she noticed the mark on his left arm. She'd seen it in a book... It was the Dark Mark! She'd almost gasped, but then she'd realized that it was slightly smudged near the bottom...

"Is that..." she began. "Did you draw that on your arm?"

Draco blushed and pulled his sleeve down. "It's just until I get my real one. You want one, don't you?"

Luci narrowed her eyes at him. "Why do you want one?"

"To get respect."

"There are other ways to get respect," she countered.

"Not when you're a Malfoy," he grumbled, and she was sure that he sounded resentful. It was possible that she'd misjudged him upon first impressions.

"Your blood isn't who you are," said Luci gently, knowing it better than anyone. "Besides, what you're talking about isn't respect. People being afraid of you and people respecting you are two very different things."

Her brother was looking up at her from his seat, studying her face, and she almost looked away in discomfort, but he questioned, "Are you really a Death Eater?"

She tilted her head. "Are you?"

"I was on my way," he began, "until... the other night."

"You're lucky you didn't kill him," said Luci.

"Am I?" asked Draco dryly. "Lucky to have disappointed the Dark Lord? Lucky to have to hide in this blood traitor house because I'm fucking scared of him?"

She looked into his eyes. He regretted all of it; she could see it. So she answered, "Yes. Because killing someone changes you. More than being scared, more than having someone disappointed in you."

"You've killed someone then?" he queried, interested.

Luci pursed her lips. "Almost. I almost killed someone. And that changed me. So I can imagine, at least, what might have happened if I'd succeeded."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't look capable of killing anyone."

She smiled. "Looks can be deceiving."

"So tell me," he prompted. "How did you almost kill someone?"

Luci swallowed. Only Josh and Kristen knew what had happened four years ago. And the police, if you counted the police. And Mark, of course. Because Mark had witnessed it. Because it was the reason that he'd never spoken to her again...

"You don't have to tell me," Draco went on, after she'd stared silently at the floor for a while.

"If I tell you," she reacted, "will you respect me? Or be afraid of me?"

He sighed. "I get your point, all right? But if people are afraid of you, that's power. And power is a part of being a Malfoy. My father wants me to join him as a Death Eater, and that's what I'll do."

"Your father wants you to? And what do you want?"

"Power never hurts," shrugged Draco.

She shook her head. "That isn't true. Few things hurt more than power. Because the people in power are there because they are greedy and selfish, and that can never be good for anyone."

"Are you calling me greedy and selfish?" he asked forebodingly, but his tone was almost teasing.

"No," she said slowly, narrowing her eyes at him. "But it sounds like you'd like to be. Or you'd like me to think you are. You'd like me to think a lot of things that aren't true, I'm guessing."

Draco stood up, and his presence suddenly became far more dominant. Luci took a step back, and he hissed, "You aren't here to give me therapy, woman. My future has been planned for me for... most of my life. It won't change, and if you're expecting me to pour my heart out to you, you'll be sorely disappointed. So if you want to help me study, I'll allow it, but otherwise, you can go."

She was biting down on the insides of her cheeks. He wasn't daunting at all, but he was... something else. Trapped? Yes, he looked trapped. Trapped like an animal, and if you provoked him, he would bite...

So she decided that he needed time to acclimate to his new surroundings, and perhaps he'd be tame before long.

"I'll go then," she answered him. "For now. But you really should study."

"Fine," said Draco.

She walked out of the room, and just before she closed his door, he called, "Hey, you never told me your story!"

And Luci echoed, "You never told me yours."