Tears welled up in Molly Weasley's eyes as she sat her kitchen table, the echo of Remus' outburst vibrating beneath the Burrow's damp grass. She wanted to check on him, bring him back into the warm. It had been an extremely long day that only a fresh cup of tea could justify. But her tired bones didn't move her from her seat beside her husband who was rubbing his eyes. She could see his thoughts pulsing at his temples.
"He wants an heir to be the face of the Wizarding World, of his reformed 'community'?" Arthur heaved a great sigh, leaning back in his chair. "It just makes little sense."
Dumbledore shook his head, his train of thought still plowing through the tracks of his brilliant mind. "Think about the Muggle hierarchy, Arthur. They have a king and a queen but their…oh dear, I forgot the name…parliament! Their parliament does the weight carrying, all the heavy labor. Voldemort doesn't want to worry himself with writing and editing laws, interrogating, or the cells of Azkaban that are bound to be full of revolutionaries like us. He believes himself to be above all that."
"So he'll be the king but his heir will be the head of this pattiment-"
"Parliament, dear." Molly finally regained the use of her legs and summoned a clean kettle.
"Right, like the Ministry!"Mr. Weasley's eyes grew as bright as his flaming hair, leaning across the table towards Dumbledore. He was on to it. "He needs someone who won't try and knock him off of his throne. They wouldn't know any better!"
Dumbledore stroked his silver beard, the lines in his usually unaging face suddenly deeper and more profound. Mrs. Weasley set down cups of tea for the two men. Albus put his nose close to the brim and gave a long, thoughtful inhale. He spoke with his eyes closed as he said,
"He's preparing for a long reign…he's readying himself to be a god."
"And Danica? What part does she play in all this?"
Remus had stood in the doorway, catching the very last snippets of the conversation. His cheeks looked flushed and his hair a little grayer than usual. With his arms crossed and his shoulder leaning against the frame he looked at Dumbledore closely, watching as the flaming blue eyes opened to meet his harsh gaze.
Molly fussed over him, nearly pushing a cup into his hand as soon as he sat down. However, he wasn't sure if he could stomach anything quite yet.
"I was waiting for your return," Dumbledore said in a matter-of-fact tone. Remus made an embarrassed sound in the back of his throat, pretending to take a sip of his tea before pushing it away. "I didn't have the chance to explain what the significance of the Vulture Spell book was."
Remus eyed the bulge in the breast pocket of Dumbledore's robes. How he could stand that vile thing being so close to his heart, Lupin did not know. But the pages were still calling him, whispering in his ear like a forgotten thought that needed remembering, like the cold brush of air against his skin.
He shuddered.
"The page that Remus and our Harry dreamed was in fact instructions," Dumbledore started, suddenly cut off by a disturbed Mrs. Weasley.
"Instructions for what?" She wiped her hands nervously on her apron. Remus noticed it was the one that Danica gave her last Christmas. The one where she told him that she hated him. Lupin's chest gave a sudden ache.
Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, chewing over his words as to make this knowledge come out in a manner that wasn't alarming. But he couldn't find a way to soften the impact. So he took a deep breath and dived right in, looking Remus straight in the eye. If anyone had the right to know, it was this man.
"Instructions on how to make the perfect child."
"There's only one way to make a baby, Albus. I have 7, I should know!" Color was rising in Molly's cheeks. It was part out of disgust for this. She wanted that thing out of her house. But there was another reason, one that made her clutch the hem of her apron in a sudden anger.
Dumbledore nodded, raising his hand to signal that he understood. A wave of calmness washed over Mrs. Weasley as he did so.
"Instructions on how to make a perfect child that would act as a perfect tool. Dark Apache wizards many generations ago used this to make the best medium to the gods. To make leaders that ruled on cruelty and savagery. The notes along the margins declare as much."
Remus knew this to be right. From memory alone he remembered that those 'notes' were written in blood.
"They didn't actually go through with it, did they?" Arthur said, his stomach churning at the thought of a blood thirsty dictator riding the plains of North America, wiping out anything in sight.
"No. They were caught and killed long before the child was able to reach the age of power. The remaining tribes of today view this event with much shame. They have always been a strong and valued group of magical folk. We do not hold a couple of rotten wizards against them."
Arthur nodded, the image he had earlier still thundering around in his mind. He went to stand closer to Molly. Remus, growing sicker by the moment, pushed his hair back. He found the corners of his forehead damp with anxious perspiration.
"How Voldemort got a hold of this spell book, I do not know. But he found exactly what we wanted." He swiveled his eyes to each face in the room, a spark in his eye that made Remus' temperature spike. "He found it long ago, actually."
"Long ago? Surely this information is new if Voldemort is only planning to use it now for the first time." Remus' pulse was hammering against the vein in his throat. It was uncomfortable. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, opening the first button. It had grown too warm in the kitchen.
Dumbledore didn't want to answer. He could see Lupin standing on the edge, ready to fall at any moment. He didn't want to do that to him. Or Molly either because she looked about ready to have an anxiety attack. But it needed to be done. The truth needed to be said. So Albus took a deep breath.
"It's not new. Because Danica was the first time."
"Oh, my dear!" exclaimed Voldemort in his oily voice, getting up to glide over to Danica who had just come in from the snow, "you look flushed." He put his long fingers on either side of her face. She tried with all her might to not flinch away. His touch was as cold as fresh ice.
"I was just saying good-bye to Draco," she said quietly, using the excuse of unwrapping her cousin's silver and green scarf to get him to stop touching her. The Dark Lord noticed it, his lips twisting into a slick smirk.
"Such a shame you were in that horrid Gryffindor house."
Danica regarded this with a simple nod, handing the house elf her coat after Voldemort snapped his fingers for her to be summoned. The young witch walked over to the window, desperate for some distance between her and those slit pupils. She looked around to ask the elf for some tea. But she already disappeared. Danica tried not to panic because it was then that she realized that she and the Dark Lord were completely alone. Dread coiled up her stomach.
"Fenir said you wanted to speak with me." The sooner he finished, the quicker she could get out of there. She could feel his eyes looking at her, probing the soft spots that he could strike next. Her fingers were already itching towards her wand. As if she would actually use it against him.
"Yes, there's actually someone I want you to meet." She could hear the Dark Lord sink into his armchair from somewhere behind her. Wait, where was Nagini?
"Really?" Danica asked, trying to show as little interest as possible. It was best not to encourage him. So she continued to stare out the window, watching the white peacocks strut and blend into the snowy lawn.
"I think you two will get along…quite well. Nagini?" Hissing filled the air and she knew he was summoning his pet. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She had always been uncomfortable around snakes. Especially that one.
The double doors swung open and a cadence of footsteps echoed in the large sitting room, reflecting how empty it was even though expensive decors were scattered everywhere. Where the Dark Lord couldn't see, Danica clutched her black and white wand. One could never be too careful.
When she could hear the slithering of Nagini's scaly skin against the floor grow closer, Danica took a calming breath and turned around.
Let's get this over with.
She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Because there, standing no more than five feet from her, was the most striking wizard she had ever seen in her life. Danica should've been intrigued. Should've given a charming smile, something to please this man. Any ordinary woman would do so.
But she could only look upon him with a vacant expression, fear and disbelief lurking beneath the fortress of her eyes.
"Danica, I'd like you to meet Alexander Rixon." The Dark Lord gave a nasty smile. She knew what he was.
"He's been chosen to be your fiancé."
Remus shook his head furiously. Dumbledore was wrong. He was mistaken. There had to be another child but not Danica. Not his Danica.
He wanted to be sick again.
"How this particular magic works is that over the course of pregnancy the witch will be given one potion per month. Each is prepared to the liking of the wizard who wanted the heir. In this case, Voldemort. Strong and powerful magic will seep into the brew, giving its content the ability to adapt to whatever the wizard wants to see in his heir."
"Dumbledore, it can't be Danica. We know her, I raised her! She isn't anything that the Dark Lord would want in…in his own child."
"Let me finish." Albus said calmly, his expression still kind as he explained these monstrosities. "So once every month, Voldemort prepared the potion for-"
"Bellatrix." Arthur's voice reduced to a hoarse whisper.
"Right, Mrs. Lestrange. He would adjust the potion to his liking so that, for example, month three could contain unbreakable strength, impeccable cunning, limitless magical ability, anything the Dark Lord wanted to see."
"But she's not anything like Voldemort. Or her parents! Albus, there has to be a mistake-"
"Remus," Dumbledore stopped Lupin right in his tracks, "please. Let me finish the story." The now harassed looking man sunk back into his chair, fingers at his throbbing temples.
"Alright."
"Nine months rolled around and Bellatrix didn't skip one potion. A powerful ruler, cruel and nearly invincible, was developing inside her, ready to be born into near royalty." Dumbledore laced together his hands, resting them against his chin but looking right at Lupin who looked like he was going to be sick again.
"The child was born, as normal as any other baby because at birth there was one last potion to be taken. It would be the catalyst to activate all the dormant qualities buried deep in the bones and genetics of the potential ruler. It had to be made fresh or it wouldn't work. It took three days to prepare."
"She didn't get a chance to take it…" Molly whispered, her eyes brimming with what looked like tears.
"Voldemort had been defeated the night Danica was supposed to take that potion."
Lupin understood. All the questions, all the doubts and conspiracies about how he came across Danica finally came to the light. The fog of her past finally cleared up and he could see for the first time. His heart was racing and his adrenaline pumping as he leaned forward in his chair, looking like a man that had just been rescued from drowning.
"That's why they abandoned her. They no longer had any use for Danica because the Dark Lord was gone. Bellatrix only agreed to birth the child because it would serve her master. She left her in that alley before she got locked up in Azkaban, covering up Voldemort's tracks!" Remus was almost panting, the excitement and understanding crashing through his body in waves. She wasn't a monster! Danica wasn't a monster!
"Precisely. She took only what could be gained from being altered like that. Her magical ability, intelligence, strength. You know this Remus; she developed differently from other Wizard children."
"But she's going to repeat what her mother failed to do…"Arthur said, looking just as old and troubled as Remus was. The spark inside of Lupin died down to a faint sputter. He was right. She was no monster. But she would bring one into the world.
"Voldemort…he won't, um, he won't…be the father right?" Remus could barely choke out the words. The thought of him doing so made the wolf within snarl with such hatred that he had to grip the edge of the table to control himself. Molly put her hand over her heart.
"No. He'll choose someone to do that." Dumbledore lowered his voice to a grave whisper, watching as Remus dug his fingernails into the wood of the table. "If Danica becomes pregnant before Harry can defeat the Dark Lord…we can't take chances, Remus."
Lupin didn't want to listen. Like a defiant child he wanted to cover his ears and drown the sound of Dumbledore's voice out. The very thought nearly sent his body into spasms of sobs. But he held it together, for the sake of Molly who had reached over and grasped his shaking hands. He was trembling, head to foot, praying to God once again. He begged Him, and Sirius, James & Lily, for there to be another way.
"Harry will have to kill Danica."
Several things happened at once.
Remus fainted just as Tonks opened the door. She saw Molly hovering over his slumped body and went into an angry rampage of questions, digging for her wand in the pocket of her robes. Molly started crying, silently, as she brought Remus around to consciousness. He tried to leave, desperately commanded his legs to stand so he could get out of that place. He looked like a caged animal.
Then Fred was shouting, hollering over all the noise that they couldn't do that. He was standing in the doorway that Tonks had just come through, no doubt having met her outside when he saw her trudging up to the door. The look in his eyes was pure anger, despair over what he just heard. He was arguing with his father, continuously pointing at Dumbledore, all the laughter and mischief gone from his young face.
And then there was Harry who had entered the kitchen to ask if he could speak with Dumbledore privately. He also heard what the headmaster had to say. His body looked petrified, his green eyes staring at Albus with a look that made the old man's heart ache. Take it back, he silently pleaded, his mouth in the form of the first T.
Dumbledore wished he could. But as he said, if Danica was with child before the Dark Lord was defeated, she would have to die.
Because the Dark Lord won't make the same mistakes again.
