Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

~Chapter Two~

Lynn's fingers clenched involuntarily around the thick envelope in her hand. She shuddered violently, and closed her eyes, taking a slow, uneven breath. She really couldn't say why she was letting it all bother her like this. They were just words. Words never hurt anyone, right? But to her disgust and alarm, the longer the letter was crumpled in her hand, the more the chill which came along with it settled around her in a sinister haze. There was no room for argument anymore that someone was doing their very best to frighten Lynn out of her wits, and they were doing a damn good job at it.

Since the first disturbing note, five more of its equally disturbing fellows had soon appeared, a two or three day interval between each one. Lynn was beginning to feel as if her life was governed and run by the arrival of another letter. One would arrive, and then she would spend the next few days anxiously awaiting another, driving herself to distraction worrying about it, devising ways to make sure neither Peter nor James had any idea they were coming at all. If either of them discovered the notes, Lynn wouldn't be able to throw them away and pretend they didn't exist, as she was currently doing. She'd have to explain herself, and if it came down to it, reveal her shady past, which at the moment was entirely out of the question.

And if that happened, what would Peter say? What would her son say? It wasn't every day that you told your partner you used to be a witch, but were abandoned by your pureblood parents because it was discovered you had no magical talent after all. The best she could hope for, would be for Peter to laugh at her and ask if she were feeling quite alright, and even that was stretching it.

It also became very apparent that these notes weren't simply random threats. So far, the six letters she'd received formed a chilling message:

Who are you? Who are you little impostor? Who do you think you really are? Who are you trying to fool? Do you want to know who you really are? Think on it, let me know.

The latest note was still clenched in Lynn's fist when Peter strolled into the kitchen, yawning loudly and excessively, stretching his arms above his head in a large "y". Lynn's heart gave a great leap, and she stuffed the off-white parchment into her housecoat pocket. It wasn't until she was starting to sit down, pulling the paper over to her, that Peter's fingers curled around her arm, and she looked up to see him staring at her curiously.

"What was that?" he asked, giving her a little grin.

Lynn felt her face drain of colour.

"It's nothing," she said automatically, looking away. "Just some junk mail."

Peter gave her an odd look. "Can I see it? You know how I love junk mail."

"No. It's nothing you would like." She peeled his fingers off her arm and went to make herself some coffee. "Why don't you go wake up James. Shawn said he'd be here to pick him up around nine, and it's almost a quarter to now...."

Before she could stop him, or even register what the hell he was doing, Peter launched himself at her pocket and snatched the note, dancing away when Lynn recovered from the initial shock and tried to snatch it back. She watched helplessly, mouth wide with increasing horror, as Peter ran around the island to get further away from her, then proceeded to read the crumpled piece of parchment. Lynn felt her knees turn to jelly when Peter looked up and fixed her with an incredulous stare, and she staggered backwards, clutching at the counter to keep upright.

"What is this?"

Lynn barely heard him for the ringing in her ears.

"I-I don't know," she whispered, flinching at the look of disbelief on Peter's face. She'd never been good at lying, and was even worse under pressure. How could she have ever though he'd fall for such a blatant lie?

Peter strode forward slowly, tossing the note on the counter so she could clearly see its message, much different from the others:

Lord Voldemort requests you take leave of your Muggle family and join him where you rightfully belong. You have three days to make a decision, whereupon you will either be retrieved or forcibly taken. Choose wisely, Morganne.

"What the bloody hell is this?!"

Lynn opened her mouth to formulate a satisfactory reply, the words already forming themselves in her head, but was cut short as Peter surged forwards, towering over her.

"Don't lie to me Lynn! Don't you dare lie to me!"

Lynn sagged against the counter, staring blankly at the floor. She had no idea what to say, or how to explain the missive in terms that wouldn't compromise her embarrassing and frankly insane secret. There was nothing that could be said, without slipping in at least part of the truth, and Lynn was not ready at all to even divulge the smallest bit of her past.

She compromised, deciding to tell Peter about the other notes, and hopefully skirt away from anything remotely magic related.

"It's not the first," she began, feeling her confidence rise a tiny bit with the knowledge that she wasn't actually lying this time.

"They started about a week ago. I really didn't think much of them until they began coming frequently though. I mean, I tried to ignore them, but they just kept coming...."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Peter demanded, taking hold of her shoulders roughly. "These....these are mail threats, Lynn! You don't just leave this kind of thing alone and hope it'll go away. This psycho could mean serious harm to you, and you can tell he's obviously off his bloody rocker. What's he getting at calling you Morganne?"

Lynn wanted to laugh out loud. For one thing, it was painfully clear that Riddle(for she wouldn't give him enough credit to call him Lord Voldemort) was most definitely not off his rocker, despite some of his homicidal tendencies that stated otherwise. He might have been a merciless murderer, but he was also damnably brilliant. For another, it was also painfully clear that he was "getting at" nothing by calling her Morganne, for it was her real name, the one she'd left behind long ago. But, how was she going to tell Peter this, when she wouldn't even allow herself to remember that of which was now being thrown back in her face?

"I'm going to call the police Lynn."

Peter threw her one last look before striding into the other room. She heard him dialing, then a low hum as he talked, and then the jarring crack of the cordless being thrown back on the receiver. He didn't come back into the room, but the front door opened and closed loudly, and she saw him walking down the street at a fast clip through the kitchen window.

Lynn sighed heavily and ran a hand through her thick wavy hair, taking the note in hand and reading it through.

So she had three days, just three measly days until her life as a Muggle would abruptly end.

And then what?

What exactly did Riddle want with her anyway, when she could give him no aid? She was no witch, despite her heritage in the most prestigious line of Lestranges. He already had Rodolphus and that wife of his, and her parents too, as well as any other Lestranges that were fortunate enough to walk his way. Another might have said that it was unfortunate, but Lynn was no preacher about the evils of "Lord Voldemort" and his Eaters of Death. She had never thought much about everything that had transpired in the wizarding world since her departure, and she could care even less now. It wasn't her business.

There had been frequent visits from Riddle in the early stages, while he was still gathering his forces, and still black haired and handsome, and it was then that her parents( who'd also been avid supporters of Grindelwald ) had been swayed, and she had first seen the glint of eager anticipation and hunger in her brother's eyes. She however, had not been especially impressed by anything Riddle had had to say. Lynn had decided even when she was no older than seven that she would have no part on either side of the war, and to that she would always hold true. Riddle could lock her up and threaten her life and she would still do nothing for him. At the same time, she would do nothing for the other side either. The two would have to suffer and bicker without her.

So, what choice did she really have? She could agree, and no one would get hurt, or refuse, and everyone, including herself, would get hurt, and the result would still be the same. Wouldn't it be so much easier if she just let everything go and agreed to Riddle's terms?

But.....what about her son? What about Peter?

Surely Riddle would never allow her to bring them along with her. He had said very clearly in his missive that he wanted her to leave her family and come to him, and there was no room for compromise. She could either leave them with a full explanation and try to make them see what she had to do, or leave with no explanation whichever way Riddle had planned to have her taken.

Lynn would much rather leave knowing that she'd left her family willingly, than with struggle. She would feel much better if they knew that she was hopefully going to be all right, and that if she could, would come back to see them soon. Lynn didn't want to think about what James was going to say, how he was going to look at her when she said that she had to leave, that she was a witch and that she'd been lying to them both all these years. She could already see the look of disappointment, of betrayal on his sweet, innocent face.

Lynn drew a ragged breath and pulled a bar stool over to her. She sat, and lay her head in her arms, trying to form a semblance of calm. She could distantly hear James rattling around upstairs, and the random thumps and shouts. With a sad jolt, she suddenly realized how much she loved her son, and how much she never ever wanted to leave him, even though she had no choice. She realized that she'd never be able to watch him grow and become a man, be able to see him accomplish his goals and find his first love.

Lynn squeezed her eyes shut and stifled a sob.

What was she going to do?

The next two days passed far too quickly for Lynn's liking. When Peter came home, he said nothing to her and walked up the stairs to their room as if unsure of where he really wanted to go, muttering things to himself. For the next two days, the two of them danced wide circles around each other, and Peter could hardly look her in the eye without his lips thinning into a severe line. But if James noticed his parents were acting a tad strange, he wasn't letting on. He continued on his merry way, blissfully oblivious to the uncomfortable space between Lynn and Peter, and said nothing in comment.

Lynn thought it was horribly cruel and unfair that she should spend her last two days with her husband in frosty silence, and was now determined more than ever to tell him the truth some time before she would have to depart, even if it would drive the wedge further between them. If she was going to leave, she was going to leave without the burden of any lies on her heart. Peter deserved the truth, and she'd kept so much from him over the course of their relationship and marriage, where any other person should have been completely honest with their partner.

If worse came to worse, Peter would probably have a fit and call her crazy. But then, she'd most likely be long gone and firmly ensconced within Riddle's lovely little fold of murderers before any damage could be done.

And what a bright and cheery future that is.

Perhaps she'd just be better off refusing and making a run for it, and leaving behind everything she held dear. Maybe then she'd finally be free from any magical threads that were still holding on for dear life and refusing to let go.

It suddenly occurred to her that just because she was a Squib, didn't certainly mean that James was too. For all she knew, he could be a budding wizard, and in a few years a Hogwarts owl would come soaring through the kitchen window bearing the news. Lynn was probably doing him a service by telling her story. At least he wouldn't immediately dismiss the letter as madness, and have a chance to nurture his special gifts. Lynn was struck again by the cruelty of her unfortunate situation. What if James was a wizard? She would have given anything to be there the moment the envelope was dropped in his lap, to see his face alight with wonder as he read the looping green ink, to wait in apprehension day after day until he finally stepped off the Hogwarts Express the last day of term and have him run into her arms and tell her all the marvelous and exciting things he had learned. But now, she wouldn't be there. She'd be running around in a white mask slitting throats and torturing innocents, causing mayhem and ruining lives.

It wasn't until the evening of the second day that Lynn finally plucked up enough courage to confront Peter after they'd finished supper and tell him that she needed to speak to him. Peter seemed reluctant at first, as if he was trying to find an excuse to get out of it, then finally acquiesced, following her into the sitting room. Lynn was just about to go and call James down, when he came without summons, running down the hall and pulling a green jumper over his head, shouting something about going over to Nigel's house to play football. Lynn snatched him before he reached the door, drawing him aside.

"You can go out later," she said, putting him down beside Peter on the loveseat. "I need to tell you both something."

James looked excited. His face lit up at the thought of being a confidante for one of her secrets.

Lynn couldn't help but feel suddenly extremely angry.

"This isn't something to be excited about," she snapped, then deciding to just dive right in: "I've been lying to you."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Peter leaned forward, an uncomprehending look on his face. "Lying about what?"

"About everything. About my name, about my past, about who I am. You know nothing of who I really am."

"What?!" Peter was on his feet in a flash. "What do you mean? Of course I know who you are! We've been married for ten years! Why wouldn't I know who you are....?"

"Because I'm not who you think I am." Lynn met Peter's unbelieving gaze evenly, feeling her chest constrict as she opened her mouth to finally tell the truth. She glanced at James, his eyes wide and shimmering, his young face contorted with incomprehension, and took the dive.

"You may know everything there is to know about Lynn Grey...but absolutely nothing about Morganne Sylvie Lestrange. I'm that woman. I'm the disowned and abandoned daughter of Andre and Monique Lestrange, and sister to Rodolphus Lestrange. I was once a member of one of the Thirteen Families, the wizarding world's most prestigious and powerful purebloods, descendants from the first great witches and wizards themselves."

She paused, and ran a shaking hand through her hair.

"That is, I was, until I reached the age of eleven, and was declared a Squib, which means that even though I'm the child of two magical parents, I have no magical talent at all. My parents abandoned me after that at an orphanage, and from there I lived my life, and was completely content to forget about my brief magical existence."

The silence was deafening.

The look on Peter's face had quickly morphed from disbelieving to completely incredulous. James looked merely stunned.

"You expect us to believe that?" Peter demanded once he'd gotten a hold of himself.

Lynn gave a heavy sigh.

"No."

"Then why did you tell us?!"

"Because I thought you should know, even if you're not going to believe a word of it."

Peter still looked incredulous. He glanced at James, then back at her, shaking his head slowly.

"Well, why now?" he asked. "Why now of all times?"

Ah, now the difficult part....Trust Peter to cut right to the chase...

"Because..." Dear Merlin, how can I tell him this? "Because tomorrow I'm leaving."

Peter's mouth dropped open in complete shock, but she surged on.

"Someone from the magical community has contacted me, an extremely powerful someone. His name is Tom Riddle, and he wants me to....well I'm not exactly sure what he wants me to do, but I have to come with him. I know that doesn't make any sense to you, but if it makes you feel any better, I'm just as confused as you are."

Lynn had expected rage, or stinging accusations, but Peter merely slumped back into his seat, mouth still open, a low ugh flying from his throat. James looked like a ghost of himself, curled up on the couch, his black curls standing out in sharp relief against the white leather and his pale face.

"Mum?" he pleaded softly, lip quivering, eyes moist.

And with that small, keening little cry, Lynn crumpled.

Choking on a sob, she sank down and pulled him into her arms, tangling her fingers desperately in his soft curls. James snuggled closer to her, his small hands clinging around her neck, his own little hiccups melding with Lynn's broken sobs. She raised her head and cast a sorrowful look in Peter's direction, his twisted expression blurred by the tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She clung tighter to James. "I'm so sorry. This wasn't my choice..."

Her admission fell on deaf ears. Peter stood stiffly without so much as a word, and swept from the sitting room in a haze of awkwardly mixed disbelief and anger. James hardly noticed, he was still snuffling into her shoulder, toying listlessly with a lock of her hair.

"I don't want you to go," he cried. "You can't go."

"Oh James..." She pulled back and wiped away his tears with her thumb. "I don't want to, I don't....but I have to."

"No, no you can't. I won't let you."

"James I have no choice. I have to. If I don't they'll take me anyway, and you might get hurt. I could never forgive myself...."

"No!"

James tore away from her and dashed into the kitchen, and then upstairs. She heard the slam of a door, and then angry shouts and sobs, and a pair of feet crossing the hall that had to be Peter going to comfort and soothe.

Lynn's heart felt like a lump of lead, heavy, cold and suffocating in her chest.

So this is what it feels like to loose everything that ever matters to you.

Limp, she dragged herself off the floor and collapsed on the couch Peter and James had just vacated, laying a hand on the slippery leather, feeling the lingering heat of James' body rising into her palm. Just the soft tinkling of warmth reduced her to tears again, and she spent the evening in pieces, trying to find a part of this whole deal that wasn't so bleak.

At some ungodly hour, Lynn awoke to the sound of the door opening, and then closing again. There were footsteps in the front hall, and then a clink and clatter as keys were tossed on the side table. A rustling plastic bag was placed on the kitchen counter, then more rustling as it was rifled through, and then a soft, indiscernible sound. Lynn opened her eyes ever so slightly, and saw Peter come into the sitting room and look in her general direction. He stood there for a few moments, then turned and left.

She fell asleep again soon after.

Lynn jolted awake at a quarter past seven, her shirt clinging uncomfortably to her back, and a trickle of cold sweat running down between her breasts. In a moment of painful clarity, she realized that this would be the last time she was ever going to wake up in this house again, and nearly broke right down once more. Pushing down the rising tears, Lynn rose unsteadily to her feet, and wandered into the kitchen where Peter and James were already seated at the island, heads bent together over a small green velvet box. James murmured something, and Peter shook his head, causing her son's beautiful eyes to dim considerably. Her heart wrenched, and she must have made some sort of sound, for both heads suddenly snapped up, two sets of eyes focusing on her.

"I didn't mean to interrupt..." Lynn croaked, slumping against the doorframe, gaze downcast.

"We were just going out." Peter got off his stool and pulled James after him, striding right past her and down the hall towards the door.

Panic seized her, and Lynn stumbled after them, clutching at Peter's shirt sleeve.

"Wait!" Tears sprung into her eyes. "Wait...I don't know when they're coming for me...what if, what if you're not here and I have to leave...?"

Peter looked like he wasn't quite sure what to say to that. James hovered behind him, looking distraught.

Lynn bit her lip, reluctantly letting go of Peter's sleeve.

He turned abruptly away from her with a grimace, reaching for the door knob.

"Are you still going on about that nonsense Lynn?" he muttered vehemently. "I have half a mind to leave you right now...."

He was cut short as the bell suddenly rang, loud and clear over his mutters.

Lynn jumped at the sound, heart cannoning up her throat. When neither of them made any move to answer it, she went forward, then felt a cold shiver run up and down her spine, and a sizzle of magic jump from the knob to the tip of her outstretched finger and crawl up her arm. She shrieked and stumbled backwards, colliding with the side table. Peter threw her an incredulous stare, brows furrowed, then brushed past James and opened the door.

Outside stood a tall, slender, immensely handsome man dressed in stylish black slacks and a navy blue dress shirt, with a long black leather trench coat swaying around his ankles. The look on his face could best be described as utterly disgusted, but trying to be civil about it, and his white blonde hair was tied back in a severe ponytail, although a couple of strands had somehow worked their way free and were dangling around his finely shaped jaw. His most prominent feature where his eyes, a cold and desolate gray that were narrowed with contempt as they swept over Peter and James, then settled on Lynn, where she was sprawled across the floor.

"Ah, Miss Lestrange," he purred, almost fondly, then stepped over the threshold without so much as a glance in Peter's direction and offered his hand. Lynn took it, and he pulled her to her feet.

"Excuse me," Peter said indignantly, pushing past the man. "Just who do you think you are barging in here and manhandling my wife?!"

The man's lip curled into an unpleasant sneer. He shook off Peter's hand and turned back to Lynn.

"My name is Lucius Malfoy," he continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted at all. "It is my understanding that you are to come with me, Miss Lestrange. Do you have your things ready?"

"Excuse me!"

Lucius whirled, quick as lightning, and snatched Peter by the collar, pointing what was indefinitely a wand at his chest.

"I suggest you be a little more polite in the presence of your betters, Muggle," he hissed, cold eyes sparking maliciously. "Unless...." Here his voice dropped to a dangerous level, "you need me to show you how to behave?"

"Leave him alone."

James' small voice was surprisingly firm. Lynn had never known him to be so brave with strangers before.

Lucius' sneer turned into an amused look of mild shock, and he released Peter, laughing softly.

"And you must be Miss Lestrange's son, unless I am mistaken. What is your name, boy?"

"James." His tone gave away nothing. "Leave my dad alone."

Another bark of laughter.

"It's a terrible shame you father isn't a wizard James. I might have taken you along too if you weren't a Mudblood."

His cold eyes swiveled in Peter's direction briefly before turning back to Lynn.

"I-I'm not ready," she whispered, unable to meet his intense stare. "Could you give me a few minutes....? You can wait in the sitting room if you'd like."

The sneer returned full force. "I'd rather not." He sounded as if that would be the last thing he'd like to do. "Very well, get what you need."

Lynn hastened towards the stairs, but Peter stopped her, shoving something in her hand. She looked down. It was the green velvet box she'd seen earlier. Peter pulled James in front of him, hands on his shoulders, a pained expression on his face.

"Good-bye Lynn," he choked out. "I still don't quite know why you leaving...This whole thing is quite frankly beyond my realm of understanding...but since you're leaving, I thought I should give you that." He gestured limply to the box in her hand. "It's our eleventh anniversary next week, remember?"

A wave of sorrow washed over her, and Lynn nearly suffocated on the repressed tears.

"Oh Peter..." She collapsed against him, cupping his head with one hand. "Oh Peter..."

"Miss Lestrange, we haven't all day."

Lucius' smooth voice wafted down the hall. Lynn wanted to scream at him to give her a few moments for good-byes for Merlin's sake, but couldn't seem to find her voice. She pulled away from Peter, still longing to hold on for just a little longer, then began to ascend the stairs, looking over her shoulder to see Peter leading James back towards the sitting room. Her heart wrenched horribly again, and she felt a few tears finally escape and slide down her cheeks.

Oh God....she just couldn't do this.....

Lynn was halfway to her room when she heard the explosion.

"Peter!" she screamed, dazed, jumping to her feet after initially falling over. "James!"

She ran down the stairs shrieking, and stumbled straight into a cloud of paint and chipped drywall, flashes of coloured light and commanding shouts. Someone wearing what she belatedly recognized as blue Ministry Auror robes ran into her and she was pushed over the back of the couch, falling face down next to it. There were more frantic shouts, then flashes of sickly green light followed by a rushing wind, then two stiff bodies landed alongside her, disturbing another cloud of dust. Lynn coughed and cleared her eyes of grime, pushing herself up against the couch, then stopped, a hoarse scream rising in her throat.

Peter's face, frozen in a look of horror, stared blankly up at her, his once bright green eyes dimmed with the film of death. James lay over him, face to the floor, with Peter's hand held protectively on his back.

She had barely the chance to fully grasp what was going on, before she felt someone grasp her wrist roughly and mutter a spell she couldn't seem to remember, and then the noise and confusion was gone.

Coughing and swaying with disorientation, her eyes focused long enough to see red, merely slits where there should have been eyes.

Red filled her vision, harsh, cold and heartless red, even when she couldn't fathom how a colour could be heartless, cold or harsh. A series of chills ran through her, and she suddenly felt like she'd never be happy again....

"Ah, Morganne," whispered a terrible, horrible voice somewhere in front of her. "Welcome home."

And then she screamed, and the world went black.