The Death Eater's Daughter

Chapter Thirty - Momentary Lapse of Emotion (corresponds with POTP Chapter 19/20)

Her mind was reeling with the possibilities of what could happen next. She'd been lying in fetal position on her bed for hours, trying to come up with a plan. How could she protect Draco from their father? The threat of Voldemort was somehow less intimidating than that of Lucius Malfoy. What if he came looking for them? What was Narcissa going to do? There was no doubt that she was going to do something.

Luci had gone downstairs to borrow the newspaper, which was now sitting on her desk, and she had read the entire article twice. Apparently, a lot of powerful Death Eaters were now running around London. All hell was going to break loose.

Someone knocked on her door.

It was probably Charlie. She didn't want to see him right now.

She nearly choked, trying to clear her throat, before yelling, "Go away!"

"It's Harry," came the response.

"Of course, it's Harry," she grumbled to herself, but she couldn't help wanting to see him. Maybe it would make her feel better. Or maybe it would make her feel worse...

She rolled out of bed and padded over to her mirror. She looked atrocious. Was that vomit in her hair? Gross. She cleaned it with her wand before barely cracking the door and inquiring casually, "What's up?"

He looked legitimately concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Sure. Fine," Luci answered through a counterfeit smile.

"Can I come in?"

Come in? Her heart thudded. He'd never been in her room, even though she'd laid awake many a night, imagining... And now? When she looked like this?

But it was impossible to deny those beseeching green eyes, so she stepped aside and opened the door fully.

Harry took a good look around, and she felt self-conscious, standing there, and somehow, very annoyed that he wasn't saying anything.

Finally, she said edgily, "Is there something I can do for you?"

He looked bothered for a split second, before softening and asking, "Why do you have to be like that?"

"Sorry," she muttered, shame-faced. Why did she have to be like this? God, she hated herself.

Taking a step closer to her, causing a shiver to glide down her spine, Harry went on, "Are you sure you're alright? You've been up here all day. I thought you were mad at me."

Luci's eyebrows shot up. "Mad at you? No, of course not."

Why would he think that? Had he really just come to see if she was cross with him?

Then she remembered their encounter on the landing, and how rude she'd been, and apologized, "I shouldn't have snapped at you earlier. I'm just..." She sighed. "It's a bad day and I'm just having a bit of a conniption, that's all."

"Why are you so upset?" he queried cautiously.

What lie should she tell now? She couldn't tell him that her Death Eater father was on the lam and she was terrified of losing her brother. So she fibbed, "Oh, I'm easily upset. I'm just... homesick and so tired of this place..."

Harry looked wounded, and just in case it was from her comment, she added hastily, "This place, not you or anyone else."

His expression relaxed and something wavered inside of her.

She caught herself and cemented her supposed cause for unhappiness with, "Poor Draco. At least I've been able to go to your family's house and to Hogwarts. Imagine how it must be for him and his mother."

"They both deserve to be in Azkaban," spat Harry harshly, "so they should count themselves lucky."

Luci couldn't help but be amused, despite it all. He was full of such angst. It was kind of endearing.

"So bitter," she teased him.

He frowned, as if this was a terrible insult, and started to object.

"I know, I know," she stopped him. "You have every right to be bitter. I'm immensely bitter over some things too, obviously, so I don't hold it against you."

Taking a deep breath, he deflected, "Did you see the paper? One of our professors was a Death Eager, again!"

As much as she'd read it, she somehow didn't remember that bit at all. So she walked over to retrieve the article from her desk, remarking, "Oh, yeah?"

"I knew someone had told the Death Eaters that I was at Hogwarts," said Harry. "It was one of the new professors, a woman called Todge."

Luci merely mumbled, "Hmm," as she tried to spread out the pages with one hand and ended up dropping the whole thing onto the floor.

But Harry, always the gentleman, immediately stooped to get it.

And Dumbledore's watch tumbled from his pocket, landing open on the floor and declaring, "It is our choices that show who we truly are, far more than our abilities."

He had snagged it up as quickly as it had fallen and tucked it away, before shoving the newspaper back in her direction.

She accepted it from him, and she wanted to stop smiling, but she couldn't. She was so damn proud of that watch, and he carried it with him! It was so gratifying.

"It's just a pocket watch," he muttered.

"Okay," agreed Luci, but he could see her joy, and his mouth fell open.

"You didn't...?"

She made a tentative face.

"Did you?" he went on, staggered.

She had to tell him! She deserved to get a little appreciation.

"His portrait wanted me to give it to you," she admitted, and Harry simply stared at her, so she went on, "But it was my idea to engrave it and enclose his voice in it. It was his, you know. He'd had it for ages. Not much use in death, of course."

He was still speechless, but he stepped forward, touching her arm, as if he would hug her.

Luci's first instinct was to launch herself into his embrace, but instead, she stepped away in terror, her heart skipping in her chest. She couldn't trust herself to be close to him without losing her cool.

He was looking questioningly at her, and she covered, "Sorry, I'm not much of a hugger."

"It's alright," he grinned. "Thank you. This is... brilliant."

She knew that she shouldn't have told him she'd been involved, but she was so excited by his appreciation.

"You like it?" she asked eagerly.

"Very much," nodded Harry. "It's the best thing I've gotten, next to the Invisibility Cloak. Why didn't you say it was from you? I've actually been a little scared of it, not knowing who sent it."

"I shouldn't have told you now, but I'm losing my resolve."

It had just slipped out, and she blushed, continuing, "Anyway, it's inappropriate for me to give you a gift."

"Why?" he frowned.

She sucked in a breath to slow her rushing blood. "You know why, so let's just keep this to ourselves, shall we?"

"What do you mean - your resolve?" he wanted to know.

And she was weak, and she let down her guard in a momentary lapse of emotion, revealing, "It gets harder and harder not to completely spill my soul to you."

Harry looked almost as thunderstruck as Luci felt.

"Then why don't you?" he encouraged, after a moment.

Did it mean that he'd be interested to know? What on earth was going on here...?

She countered slowly, "Because I still have some self-control."

But not much. And it's wavering.

"Oh," was all he said, and she studied his face, wanting to beat something more out of him.

Finally, he carried on, "We need your advice."

So this was why he'd come. Typical.

Tilting her head to one side, Luci inquired, "We?"

"Me and Ron and Hermione," he clarified.

Of course, she thought, just happy that Ginny's name hadn't been thrown in.

"Okay?"

"We found another Horcrux."

She went stiff with attention, knowing that she needed every detail. Snape had yet to send that Cambias person, but she imagined that it wouldn't be long, and to have more to tell him...

"We knew what we were looking for," Harry was saying, "and Hermione had a hunch, so we ended up at Hepzibah Smith's old house, and the cup - Hufflepuff's cup, because Hepzibah was a relative - the cup was there, but it seemed to be protected by Dementors, because we were immediately attacked by one. I can't touch them, obviously, so Hermione had it - the cup - and she was using it to shield herself from the Dementor, and it ended up feeding on the Horcrux instead. So, in the end, Hermione is stumped on how the Dementor could have removed the soul from the cup."

Luci had been listening intently, captivated, but when he stopped, she took a thoughtful breath. It was quiet a story, but it didn't surprise her at all. The three of them were remarkably brave, and a little too audacious, if you asked her. But they were doing what had to be done. And she admired that, because she, clearly, was not.

She announced, "You're all lunatics! But it has to be done, I guess."

He bobbed his head, his eyes still questioning.

"I don't know..." she answered slowly. "I mean, perhaps a piece of a soul is as capable of fear as the soul in its entirety. Maybe it fears the end of its existence as much as we do."

"Possibly," Harry said thoughtfully. "But Hermione's concern is that the piece of soul isn't destroyed - now it's just stuck in that Dementor."

"No, when a Dementor steals your soul, it's gone forever," opposed Luci, thinking the idea was asinine. "They don't carry it around with them. Imagine the suitcase they'd need for that!"

What a silly thing to say!

She paused briefly before continuing, "But like I said, I don't know much about the splitting of the soul. I'd have to research it too. I could help, if you'd like."

Of course, he wouldn't want her around. But he was here because he'd needed her counsel...

He astonished her by saying, "Ron and Hermione know that I've told you everything, so you could join us."

If Ron and Hermione knew that, what other things did the three of them share...?

"Why don't you check with them first and get back to me?" suggested Luci.

"Alright," he nodded. "The watch, I don't know how to thank you."

Meeting his gaze, she felt this odd current of mutual appreciation flow between them.

"The look in your eyes was thanks enough," she grinned at him. "I'm just glad you like it."

His smile was intoxicating, and he replied, "See you tomorrow?"

"Yep," she managed. "Night."

She'd shut him out too quickly, she figured, but he got to her. He made her feel like she couldn't behave properly. And she was already fragile, due to her father's escape. She'd promised to help him, but in reality, she couldn't see how, as she had far bigger problems to tackle.

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There was a soft knock on her door. It was just past midnight, and Luci had been staring at her ceiling, deciding for the umpteenth time that it needed to be painted. Focusing on this trivial fact was helping her to avoid thinking about her father.

She threw her legs over the side of the bed and shuffled to the door. She was not pleased to see Narcissa's face.

"Now that my husband is free, Draco and I will no longer be needing your assistance," said the woman hatefully as she strolled into the room.

Luci closed the door again. It was what she'd been most afraid would happen. Her pulse was racing.

"I'm sorry," she began slowly, trying to hide her panic, "but I think that means that you need me more."

"Nonsense. Lucius is entirely capable of protecting us. Draco and I are leaving. I thought I'd do you the courtesy of informing you."

Luci's mouth fell open. "I... you can't just leave without me! After all of it... we need to stick with the original plan. We need to stay with the Order and away from the Death Eaters. Whether my- your husband is out or not, the Dark Lord is still going to be very angry."

"That is no longer your concern."

Narcissa was completely composed, and Luci felt like she was falling to pieces.

"But... Draco... he doesn't want to leave, does he?" she begged, trying not to yelp from the pain of the thought.

"Of course, he does. He is anxious to see his father."

Then a joyful glint appeared in Narcissa's eye, and she mocked, "You didn't think that he cared anything for you, did you?"

Luci went rigid. "Whether he knows it or not, I'm his sister, and we do have some kind of relationship."

Narcissa became outraged at this claim.

"I don't care where you think you come from! I don't believe a word of it anyway. I've had no confirmation from my husband, and Dumbledore was a fool to his dying day!"

This was coming out of nowhere.

Luci squared her shoulders and threw back, "Believe what you want! There's no denying it."

"I'm starting to think that you are not loyal to the Dark Lord, after all," snarled Narcissa.

"My loyalty to Voldemort is none of your business," Luci retorted.

Narcissa hissed at the name, as if she'd been scratched.

"Oh, don't be a coward!"

"It's called respect, you silly girl," Narcissa spat.

She paused, but then continued, "You've spent far too much time with Draco and it ends right now. You will do your job and keep your distance. I don't want my son associating with a Mudblood any longer."

"Watch it," Luci warned in her coldest tone, but it was an odd thing to have said. Weren't they planning to leave, therefore, putting distance between them anyway?

"I will say what I please," Narcissa growled. "I have no obligation to speak kindly to you."

"If you care at all about Draco, and I know you do, you'll carry on as we planned," Luci replied, sternly, covering her anxiety.

"IF I care? This has all been for Draco! Putting up with you, being a prisoner in this disdainful place, associating with these blood traitors! ALL for Draco!"

"Then why don't you fucking listen to me? Everything I'm doing is for Draco too! I care about him as much as you do!"

"You will never have any relationship with Draco! He is my son and I will protect him!"

Luci could barely contain her fury.

"He's my brother and I can protect him too!"

The woman huffed in irritation.

But then a stunned voice cried out, "Your what?!"

Luci's bedroom door flew open, slamming against the wall behind it. It was so loud that she jumped.

And there, in the doorway, stood her brother and the boy that she loved, both clad in their pajamas, both with their eyes wide and full of astonishment. And she, too, was frozen with shock.