The Death Eater's Daughter

Chapter Twenty - Found Out

Luci hadn't slept much. She'd been kept awake, wondering if sending that letter to Harry had been a mistake, and also ruminating over the fight that she'd had with Draco. She knew that she had to fix things, probably in both cases.

So she rose early, dressed, ran a comb through her hair, and went to her brother's door. It took him a long while to answer, but when the door creaked open, she saw that he was bleary-eyed and wearing his robe.

"It's bloody early, Luci," he griped.

"I know," she began hesitantly. "I'm sorry. I wanted to talk to you before breakfast."

He frowned and stepped away from the door. "What about?"

Luci entered the room and closed the two of them inside.

"Last night."

Draco grimaced. "About how you basically said that I repulse you?"

She bit her lip. "Draco... I'm just. God. I'm sorry I said it."

She felt like he owed her an apology as much as she owed him one. But she knew that she wouldn't get it.

He sat down on his bed and looked closely at her. "But you meant it."

"It... scared me a little," she said quietly, "that those deaths didn't bother you at all."

"That an-" Draco gritted his teeth and started again. "Hagrid made my life miserable at school."

He'd told her a few stories, one about how his arm had been broken in some kind of encounter with a Hippogriff, a creature that shouldn't be anywhere near a school anyway.

"And why did it scare you?" her brother went on.

"Because I worry about you," answered Luci with a little too much affection.

Draco smiled softly. "Well, you don't have to. The Malfoys may be down on our luck for the moment, but eventually, the Dark Lord will rise again and he'll get my father out of prison and we'll have our power back."

God, she hoped that none of that would happen. But she couldn't manage any words.

"You don't look happy about it," he commented. "And it scares me a little that you're so sympathetic to half-breeds."

"It's not... sympathy," she sighed. "I guess I'm just newer at this than you are."

She hated the lies. She hated them so much. She wanted to tell Draco that she was on the good side, and that she wanted him to join her. But she couldn't.

"You'll get tougher," he assured her. Then he got to his feet again. "Does that mean we've made it up then?"

Luci let herself smile. "For now."

He grinned back. "Good. Mind if I get dressed? I'm starving."

"Oh," she nodded. "Yeah. Sure."

But on her way out of his room, she couldn't help turning again.

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope that you'll realize someday that you're more than your father's son. More than a Malfoy. And... and that you can make your own decisions and a better destiny... and... That's all, I guess."

Her brother's brow was furrowed, but she hurried away before he could have any other reaction.

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The house was empty for most of the day. All of the members of the Order had gone to Hogwarts to attend the service for the two slain professors. Only Molly remained, and she watched the Malfoys like a hawk throughout both breakfast and lunch.

In the afternoon, however, everyone must have returned, with Ginny in tow. Luci only knew about the red-haired girl's presence because she'd seen her on the staircase briefly before heading into Draco's room. But there was no sign of Harry, Ron, or Hermione. Luci imagined that they were probably calling in reinforcements to calm Molly down. But the Malfoys stayed upstairs and out of the way.

The two of them were still in Draco's room, hours later, studying a ridiculously tedious Herbology book, when they heard a loud commotion downstairs.

Luci shared an annoyed expression with her brother.

"Never stays dull for long," she observed before following him out to the landing.

It was just soon enough to hear Ginny whining, "Oh, Hermione, your hair!"

Looking down, Luci searched for the brunette, wondering what could have happened. Instead, her gaze fell on Harry, and their eyes locked. Her blood began to rush, and she gave him a tentative raise of her eyebrows. But he revealed nothing in return before he was forced into the kitchen by Molly. Luci's heart sank. Maybe the letter had been a bit too presumptuous...

The uproar continued in the kitchen, but Luci didn't care anymore. She simply muttered, "Come on, Draco," and led him back into his room.

"Fantastic," he grumbled, when the door was closed. "Potter and his gang are back to make our lives miserable."

She took a deep breath. "I think our lives are miserable in either case."

"Damn right," complained her brother.

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At dinner, Luci was surprised to see Kingsley and Alastor at the table. They rarely shared meals in the house. She wondered if there was something going on of which they didn't inform her. It wouldn't be a surprise, especially since she'd been disinterested in their business all day long.

It turned out, though, that everyone seemed to be gathered merely to mourn the death of Hagrid. The Malfoys sat silently at their end of the table as everyone else swapped stories.

Hermione was sniffling quietly as Molly was leveling out her hair. Luci was watching and wondering if the emotion was due to the loss of Hagrid or to the loss of her hair. That was when she heard glass breaking. She looked around to see her brother leaping to his feet next to her. A bottle of Butterbeer seemed to have toppled over and shattered. She, too, stood to avoid the amber liquid that was puddling towards her.

"Clumsy" Draco hissed at Tonks, who had apparently put the drink before him. And as he was covered in the sticky fluid, he marched from the room, Narcissa on his heels.

Luci, shaking her head at the mother who couldn't let her son clean himself up, began to gather the pieces of glass in front of her.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain, yelped, "Ow!" and dropped the responsible shard.

Harry was instantly beside her, before she'd even known what was happening. It confused her.

On her other side stood Alastor, demanding, "Let me see."

"No, no, I'm fine," she tried to deflect, knowing that the small cut was completely closed by this point and that she'd never be able to explain it. "Really, it's fine."

Alastor insisted, "Let me see it," once again.

"There's nothing to see," she claimed composedly, revealing her blood-stained palm and hoping that he couldn't tell that there was no wound.

Harry was staring very fixedly at her hand, and so was Alastor, the latter of whom then met her eyes, and Luci knew that he'd found her out.

She pulled her arm back toward her body, closing her hand, and said, "Just a tiny cut."

"I'm sorry, Luci," Tonks said from behind her. "I was conjuring the bottles a little haphazardly, I'm afraid."

Luci shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. Sometimes, I forget that there's magic for these things."

"You'd better get that cleaned up," Alastor suggested with a significant frown.

Without another word, and without acknowledging Harry, Luci took her chance to flee.

It wasn't an hour later that she had a knock at her door. Upon opening it, she found Alastor leaning uncomfortably against the doorframe.

"A word, Miss Keegan?" he inquired gruffly.

"You'd better come in then," Luci sighed.

She closed the door behind him, and he began immediately.

"May I see the hand again?"

Luci bit her lip, but she extended her palm out to him once more. He didn't touch her, but studied it closely. The skin was flawless.

"Regeneration?" he asked with his eyebrows raised.

She nodded.

"How?"

"It's kind of a long and horrible story," she said abjectly. "I'd rather not talk about it. It happened when I was young. It's not dark magic or anything."

Alastor gave a slow tilt of his head, as if this answer satisfied him.

"It was important for me to know," he said gently. "To be sure that it wasn't something... dark. You understand?"

"Yes. But if you could... keep it to yourself, please?"

His lips curled up slightly. "No one keeps a secret better than I. But you should be more careful."

"I know," she agreed.

"It's a wonderful gift," he mentioned on his way out.

Luci scowled. "No, it isn't, believe me."

Alastor shook his head. "You may feel differently someday. Goodnight, Miss Keegan."

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When the house was quiet, and she was sure that everyone was in bed, Luci crept out of her room and onto the landing. Darkness engulfed her. She lit her wand and followed its glow into the drawing room, where she ignited a lamp. Then she settled into the couch with a fictional book. She felt like she deserved some fiction.

Of course, she was waiting for Harry, hoping against hope that now that he was back, he might want to return to their nights together. But he would never come.

She fell asleep there, and her past began to haunt her again.

"No one will miss me," she was telling herself. "I'm different. From everyone. And no one likes me. And no one ever will. And no one will care if I'm gone."

She felt the same pain, the same despair, the same hopelessness, loneliness as before. She just wanted it to go away.

She looked up into the mirror and saw her thirteen-year-old face staring back, her grey eyes reddened, her pale cheeks flushed, her short blonde hair matted against her forehead.

"No one will miss you," she told the mirror.

Then she could feel the cold steel against her left wrist. She sensed the powerful vein pumping beneath the blade. She looked down, just in time to see the knife slice through her delicate skin, pouring her scarlet blood almost everywhere.

Now for the right wrist. This one bled more.

She heard the blade's dull thud as it hit the linoleum. Then she could feel her cheek against that same floor, and it was cold, but the rest of her felt warm as the life was driven from her veins.

She pulled her arms up to her face to watch the blood drain. But something was happening. Something painful. And the flow was ceasing.

"NO!" she screamed at her wrists.

Seizing the knife, she slashed at them again.

But this time, the wounds began to close almost instantly.

"Fuck!" she hissed. "WHY?"

No matter how many times she tried, her skin healed itself.

She collapsed into a ball on the bathroom floor, sobbing.

And she awoke that way, covered in tears and sweat.

She inhaled a deep, piercing breath.

"No one will miss me," she choked aloud.

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The next few days, the memories of her suicide attempt continued to plague her. She didn't know why. Perhaps because she'd almost had to explain it to someone.

And every night, she was in the drawing room, waiting. It was pathetic, and she knew it. Especially because Harry never came.

Even during the day, when Luci would see him at meals, he didn't acknowledge her. He laughed and chatted with Hermione and Ron, and especially Ginny, who somehow seemed to be growing prettier with each day.

Luci, however, was growing more dejected with each day.

There was nothing in the world that she wanted more than for him to just look her way... She felt entirely invisible to him. And he was the only one that she really needed to see her. But he didn't.

He'd seen her once, though, hadn't he? What had happened? How had she dissolved like this?

She didn't know how she'd become so weak either. She couldn't stop thinking about touching him. Just to feel a brush of his hand... And the dreams were getting worse. There hadn't been anything even remotely like this in so long that she couldn't remember. And she hated it. She felt so vulnerable and really motherfucking stupid.

Luci did everything she could to take her mind off of him. She read, studied, and spent time with Draco. She wrote a letter to Josh about the suicide nightmares she was having. He was the only one who would understand. She'd even tried calling Kristen once, but there had been no answer. She'd ended up calling her mother instead and sobbing like a child about how she wanted to come home.

Now, it was Saturday, and she was leaning towards finding another place to take Draco and his mother. She was planning to use the Floo Network today and ask Dumbledore's portrait if there were any other options. Even if she had to embarrass herself and tell him her reasons.

At the breakfast table, she brought up the subject to Draco.

"God, I'd do anything to get out here!" he said enthusiastically.

"So would I," she concurred, indicating that he should bring his voice down. "I'm going to see what I can do."

"But didn't Snape choose this place?" asked her brother quietly.

"At the time, I could think of many other options," contributed Narcissa. "Of course, there are only a few left. We could stay with my sister."

"No," hissed Luci. "No Bellatrix. And it freaks me out that we're on the same side for once."

The woman gave a small shrug. "As much as I loathe you, we are both here to protect Draco."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here," nagged her son. "And if not my aunt's place, then where?"

Luci took a breath, hesitant to reveal her idea. "I'm... I'm looking into a way to basically create another Grimmauld Place. Somewhere else. Another kind of safe house. I have to do more reading."

"Brilliant!" grinned Draco. "Can we have a Quidditch pitch?"

She smiled. "I know you miss it. Any kind of outdoors would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Hardly," groaned Narcissa. "I hate the sunlight."

"Of course, you do, Mother," laughed Draco.

She huffed, and Luci giggled, her hopes raised. They were both in agreement. Now all she had to do was figured out how to get them out of this hellhole.

"Ready to tackle some Potions?" she asked her brother, pushing her plate aside and getting to her feet.

"Might as well," he muttered lazily, standing too. Narcissa rose almost in unison with him.

Luci was dropping her napkin next to her plate when she noticed Harry coming towards her. She averted her eyes, imagining he'd walk past her without acknowledgement, as was usual lately.

But then he was next to her, asking, "Can I talk to you?"