Chapter 54
Mother wrapped Josephina in a tiny cloak, lavender in color. Mother had decided to come over and help Lyra get ready for Josephina's official first outing: the doctor's.
"Is Aunt Bella in love with the Dark Lord?" Lyra couldn't help but ask. The question had plagued her since their dinner.
Her mother fretfully adjusted Josephina's robes. "We do not speak of such things," she said finally.
"But she's married."
"Lyra," mother said sternly.
Lyra finished gathering her hair in a bun, wispy tendrils framing her face. The notion of Bellatrix Lestrange being in love with the Dark Lord was obscene. But there had been no mistaking that look of adoration on her face. Lyra had seen it before, on Colin's…
No. She would not allow her thoughts to drift towards him. She had made her choice, now she must live with her decision.
"You will be fine on your own?"
"No one will attack me in the ministry if you're asking that." Not with how many Death Eaters there were inside the building, laced throughout every department. Someone would come to her aid by the time the second spell against her was uttered.
"Very well. Good luck."
Lyra nodded, throwing a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and wrapping her arms tightly around the sleeping Josephina.
She moved up the levels quickly, ignoring the paper birds fluttering about, and getting off at St. Mungo's. She was directed to the correct department by the receptionist, who was all too willing to help Lyra with anything she might need. Lyra could tell it was fright that had influenced the woman. The whites of her eyes had shown as they darted across Lyra's face, not able to focus on one particular feature.
Lyra didn't have much of a wait, and was seen almost at once despite the fact that there had been many ahead of her.
"How has she been?" he asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He would have appeared to be calm if not for the drop of sweat running down the side of his forehead. He wiped it away immediately, rubbing his hands on his pants.
"Well, I've been a bit worried. She's a little behind compared to her peers. I want to make sure she is okay and this is completely normal." Josephina was four months old now and she still did not react much to the things around her. Most often she was seen either sleeping or staring wherever her head was left to rest at. Usually the ceiling or wall.
"No doubt you've read that in a parenting magazine of some sort. Although they are the averages, not all children are the same. I wouldn't worry quite yet. We will do some tests while we're here just to make sure."
Lyra nodded, taking the potion the doctor handed her.
"She's going to need to take that. It protects against all kinds of diseases, even some forms of Dragon Pox."
Lyra knew it would most likely be a battle to get her daughter to drink it. All Josephina would allow herself to swallow was breast milk, refusing any of the formulas Lyra bought. "Does she have to drink it all at once or can it be little by little?"
"As long as she drinks it," the healer declared, gesturing for Lyra to place her baby on the fitted table. Lyra made sure the blanket covered any part that may touch Josephina's skin before placing her down and taking a step back.
The healer ran a series of diagnostic tests, each one giving a different reaction. Greens, pinks, and blues filled the air. The man did not appear perturbed until he ran into a purple colored one. His nose twitched and he repeated the spell, getting the same result. "I-I think we must do a little more research. I'll send the matron in to finish the rest of the testing."
Lyra frowned, biting on the side of her cheek. That reaction could not have been good. Perhaps the healer was trying to be careful before diagnosing Josephina with anything.
The matron, a woman in her late forties with pudgy skin, came in to finish up the test. She took a vial of blood too, Josephina remaining calm throughout it all. It most likely had to do with the numbing spell that had been placed on her, but Lyra was still impressed. Josephina had been poked and prodded today more than she had in her entire life.
About twenty minutes later the healer came back, shifting through the results.
"Is something wrong?"
The healer rubbed at his balding head. "I'm afraid so," he said solemn.
Lyra's heart sped up at the declaration. "Is she sick? Is there something I can do? I can assure you no expense shall be spared when it comes to my daughter's health."
The healer's eyes shifted nervously. "That is very good to know. There is something you can do, but I'm afraid it would not be very fun for your daughter."
Lyra's foot began to tap anxiously, waiting for him to continue. "Well come on. Out with it."
The healer pulled his glasses off, letting out a great sigh. "Your daughter's not sick the way you're imagining, I'm sure. Many children who have this syndrome go on to live long lives. Your daughter does not appear to be at the worst level, but mid-tier. Many magical parents cannot afford the potions to help them right their children, but I'm assuming you can. She could become almost normal with them. It would be a two series potion for her."
"You still have yet to tell me what my daughter has," Lyra gritted out.
"It's not what she has but what she is." The healer eyed her, the whites of his eyes shaking. "Your daughter is mentally handicapped."
For a moment Lyra could not understand what the man had told her. "I'm sorry, but could you repeat that."
He leaned towards her. "She is mentally handicapped."
"That's impossible," she denied, becoming cross. "A Malfoy has never been born in such a way. I demand you to quit being so shoddy at your job and bloody find out what's actually wrong with my daughter." She held her head high, glaring at him.
"I know this can be a hard thing to accept," he continued. "It's not always genetic. Have you, perhaps, asked your husband if this runs on his side of the family?"
Lyra could taste blood in her mouth from biting down on her cheek, coppery and metallic. She went to argue further, but hesitated.
She had stared at all the Xs on her family tree herself. There were a paltry amount of them, considering Malfoys were nefarious for having one child. Usually there was not much of an explanation on how those people died. When Lyra had perused the Flint tree there had been many gaps, numerous early deaths charted in the book. Only a few of them stated the cause of death. She could not be certain how Marcus would react to this news. He loved Josephina, Lyra had never doubted that, but would he still after learning this? Would he make Joey disappear, like many of their ancestors had their own children when a weakness popped up in the family tree?
Lyra could never tell anyone of this. This news was too dangerous for anyone else to know.
"Have you spoke of these findings to anyone?" she asked coldly. He flinched at her sudden change of tone.
"O-Only the matron. She helped make sense of the results."
"You will burn those papers."
The healer gaped at her. "What? That's against protocol. We can't just-"
"You will burn them, or you will pay for it with your life."
She stared at him steadily, watching as his fear heightened and his shaking increased tenfold. "You are to tell no one of these results. They never happened. If this gets out I will know whose mouth has uttered the words. My husband is a vicious man, and he's not afraid to get his hands dirty. Tell me, do you have a daughter?"
He swallowed thickly. "Yes, a daughter and a son."
Lyra stood up, shouldering her bag and hugging Josephina tightly in her arms. "Then you will understand when I say if anyone learns of this you will not be the only person to pay the price. A parent will go to extraneous lengths to protect their child. I'd hurry and relay the news to that nurse too, before she begins to blabber like women tend to do."
"I-I-I, yes. Of course!" he raced out the door, turning down a hall and into another room.
Lyra shrugged, taking the time to cover Josephina's head and walking to the elevator. As soon as it closed her farce ceased to be and her hands began to tremble. "It's going to be okay Josephine. No one is going to hurt you," Lyra promised, more to herself than to her daughter.
Not even the Dark Lord would step in her way when it came to her daughter.
By the time Marcus had gotten home Josephina had been put to bed. Her little girl sometimes still woke up during the night, but now her time at night was filled with more sleep than staying up. A crash from down stairs startled her, followed by another. She hurried down the stairs, nervously peaking her head in the living room. Marcus snarled, an animalistic look on his face as he chucked his grandmother's one hundred and fifty-seven year old vase against the wall. They'd only had a discussion about it the other day.
"Marcus?"
She had convinced herself that her daughter was safe by saying no one had noticed Josephina's odd behavior except herself. Lyra would cease to comment on it, declaring everything Josephina did to be normal. She should have tried to get that potion before threatening the healer, but she hadn't been thinking very clearly. Lyra hoped this outburst of her husband's wasn't from him finding out about Josephina's handicap. Dread filled her at the thought.
He turned to her, the rage dimming as he took in her green, silken pajamas and exhausted features. Grief burst from his eyes, and he fell to the wooden floors on his knees. "Lyra," he managed to get out, close to tears.
Lyra hurried over to him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his cheek. He let out a raucous sob, hugging her tightly against him.
"What happened, love?"
"Dad," he cried out. "There was a mission we were on… but the order knew about it somehow. They- they." His voice broke off and Lyra was unable to understand anything he was saying. Lyra held his head to her chest, rocking him back and forth.
"They captured your father?"
He clutched her tighter to him, his grip almost painful. "No Lyra. Not at all. The Order killed him."
A/N: Another early chapter for my awesome reviewers! Thank you guys so much! I really do enjoy reading everyone's thoughts. :)
