Warning: The first three paragraphs are a bit smutty if that's not your thing. Literally, the first sentence is smut. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Chapter 55
Lyra gasped, her back arching off the silken sheets as she took in a ragged breath of cold air. His hands slid into her hair, steadying her as he brought his lips to hers. His mouth was soft, pliant, as she wrapped her arms around his neck. An uninhibited moan broke through her lips as his hips met hers in a particularly pleasurable movement.
Lyra finally had been able to make their coupling a pleasant experience for her. It was that night, when he came to her so desperate and needy that Lyra had given in. When Marcus' father died he had come to her searching for comfort. When it began to lead to something unexpected Lyra did not resist. She hadn't slept with him since that day at Hogsmeade, and she had already healed from the birth of their daughter. He had needed something tangible, something only Lyra could give, and she could only oblige.
Her hands trailed down his back, his lips working their way down her neck. He tensed, whispering something Lyra could not understand before collapsing next to her, pulling her close.
Marcus had become much more passionate in the past months. That anger and rage had disappeared once he bared himself to her, and in its place something new bloomed. Lyra couldn't say that she loved Marcus, not yet. But given time she thought she might.
Lyra shifted, curling herself in his embrace. Josephina was safe. No one knew what the healer had told her that day. Everyone that met her just assumed Joey was quiet, or Lyra had already begun teaching her the pureblood way as strange as that sounded. Josephina was not even a year old. A normal child would not be able to grasp those teachings. Lyra herself did not quite master that art until she had been around nine. At seven she was very good at masking emotion, but Draco had still managed to get under her skin and force her into an unnecessary tantrum.
Lyra allowed people to think as they wished. It was better this way.
Lyra had finally received a smile from Josephina at five months. Marcus could not understand why Lyra was crying about such a minor thing. Lyra had replied that their daughter brought her happiness, and he had laughed and agreed. Just this month, at six months, she began to make noises. Her Josephina was attempting to talk to people, gargling happily when her eyes were able to focus on her mother and father.
Lyra's whole life now centered on her daughter. When she woke up in the morning the first thing she did was head over to Josephina's room and get her ready. Only when Joey was clean and fresh would Lyra get herself ready. She learned the hard way how easy it was to make a mess of yourself when cleaning and changing a baby. By the time Lyra was done with herself little Joey was completely up, squirming as she stared at the circling mobile with colorful puffskein's above her.
Then they would go downstairs to the kitchen. Marcus was up by then, grabbing a bite of toast and giving Lyra a kiss before heading to work. By noon Josephina would be tired, and Lyra took advantage of that time by taking a short nap also.
Sometimes Lyra would floo to the betting ring and drop off lunch for Marcus, other times she was making sure Warble was not excessively cleaning one room as she was prone to do instead of tidying the whole house. Josephina's room was off limits for the house elf unless Lyra stated otherwise. If it needed cleaning Lyra did it herself. She still did not trust the house elf with her daughter, but Lyra didn't trust many people with Josephina. Neither mother nor Marcus appeared to notice how far Josephina was lagging behind, and Lyra wanted to keep it that way.
Marcus would come home to a meal, thanks to Warble. It turned out Lyra was dreadfully awful at cooking. Warble had to make all of their meals if there was to be anything edible on the table. Afterwards Marcus usually played with Joey, or held their daughter against his chest if he was too tired. Which worked just as well for little Joey.
Everything was about Josephina. Lyra forgot about the war broiling over all around them, of the death counts and muggles dying and muggleborns going into hiding. Everything became irrelevant. Lyra never knew a person could love something as much as she did her daughter. If there was a stronger word than love she would use it, because this felt so much stronger than anything else she'd ever felt. Not even her feelings for Colin encompassed her as much as Josephina's did.
It didn't hurt so much to think of Colin anymore. She still loved him, she probably always would. She could only yearn that Colin was safe, wherever he was. He was stubborn, he had been since the first day Lyra had met him. He would survive, Lyra could not imagine him doing anything else.
Lyra didn't get out very often. After that first attempt on her life she tried not to, or at the least wait until Marcus was willing to go with her. Their property was protected thanks to Marcus' Death Eater friends. There were so many wards that Lyra didn't know what to think of them all. But at least that meant Josephina would be safe. Lyra would not have to worry about them getting attacked during the day when she was home alone.
Mother came over less, and Draco had dropped out of school again. When Lyra asked him about it he said it just wasn't like what it used to be and he no longer got the enjoyment he once did from staying at Hogwarts. Draco tried to hide it, but he adored Josephine. Sometimes he would come over when he was not required at a Death Eater meeting to play with his niece. Lyra always watched him carefully, remembering what he had been like with her when they were growing up. He had always been rough and she had gotten more than enough scrapes and bruises because of him as a child.
But he was tender with Josephina. Sometimes he would just stare at her, allowing her to clutch his finger tightly in her palm and watch her quietly as she gargled at her twirling mobile.
This war had changed Draco. It had forced him to grow up. Lyra didn't dare ask if he was still with Pansy Parkinson, and Lyra was assuming her parents would have him marry soon since he had quit Hogwarts. So far no such word had spread to her, but she wasn't holding her breath.
Lyra leaned over towards Josephina who was giggling as she threw food over the edge of her highchair. Lyra rolled her eyes, attempting to force Joey to try some of it. Josephina was adamant on not eating solid foods. At six months she should be at least attempting to eat it, but she was more amused by making a mess of everything.
Marcus laughed from across the room. "Joey is just like her daddy," he said, rubbing their daughter's sorely lacking head of hair. She was growing a bit of a mohawk at this stage, but even that was generous. "She makes a mess everywhere she goes."
Lyra couldn't hold back the snort of laughter.
"Why Mrs. Flint, I'm very surprised at that noise you just made. Very unladylike," he commented with a teasing smile.
Lyra rolled her neck at him, giving her husband an unamused look. "Oh, hush."
He snickered to himself but remained silent. Lyra turned back to Josephina who was currently banging her little fist on the highchair, making the food bounce across it and fall to the floor. Every time a piece of food fell she would burst into hysterical giggles, pounding away until another piece joined its fellow brethren on the tiled battlefield.
"You think that's so funny, but who do you think is cleaning it up? Lyra muttered, leaning down to grab all the pieces of cereal. "Come on Joey. Just eat one! This is sugary for crying out loud! Kids love sugar." At least that is what she had heard.
She forced a piece between Josephina's lips and as soon as Lyra pulled her hand away Joey spit it out. "You're exasperating, you know that? You can't live off of breast milk forever."
Josephina made happy spit bubbles, clenching and unclenching her fists in excitement.
"At least she can hold her neck up now."
That much was true.
"The war may be ending soon," her husband said casually, his hand sliding against her back gently as he passed.
Lyra stilled, momentarily speechless at the sudden announcement.
"How do you know that?"
"The Dark Lord will be bringing the final battle to Hogwarts. He said so himself at the last meeting."
Lyra forced herself to continue as she had been, placing different finger foods for Josephine to try. "When will that be?"
"The Dark Lord is thinking it will be in the beginning of May."
"Potter will be there?"
Marcus snorted. "Of course he will be. The boy has a hero complex. Our lord is sure of this."
Lyra gnawed on the side of her cheek. Could she live in a world of the Dark Lord's creation? Where no weakness was accepted and only those with magical ties could flourish?
Lyra knew one thing. As much as Lyra would try to hide Josephina's disability one day it would be obvious. Lyra would not be able to protect her when that day came. The Dark Lord wanted pureblood children from her, yes, but not ones that were mentally handicapped. At best Josephina would be thrown on some muggle's doorstep, never to be seen again.
A/N: I don't think that first scene is too bad compared to other stories on this website. But since that was the first time I did any such scene I figured a warning was needed. There is only one other scene like this in the story although it's not so small as this. I will put a warning in that chapter also.
Guest Comments:
Guest- I pictured the disability as something similar to autism. Where it wouldn't be obvious just by looking at her that there was something wrong but given enough time it would becomes obvious. I put a stigma on mental disabilities too, not unlike how they have them against werewolves and house elves. Werewolves have very few rights and most people seem to think them only slightly higher than animals based on wizard laws. The same for house elves. They do like servitude but they're treated like they're stupid when they are able to understands things just as people do.
Marcus eventually does find out and his reaction will be in here, and Danold's death affects Marcus badly. It's no longer just hatred of a person, but revenge too. I imagine nobody would want to meet him on a battlefield.
