Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all public characters, and the world of Harry Potter. There is no intention to violate copyright.
Lingering Traces
Saturday, February 19, 2000
Potter invited House Malfoy for dinner. The night started with men having drinks, and the women gossiping over tea. We ate a delicious meal that I didn't recognise, but it tasted like chicken. Lucius and I expected to resume our earlier activities, but our Gryffindor host wished to visit with the women. Did Potter enjoy listening to them prattling about babies and shopping?
A small pop announced Binky's arrival, and she swayed beside me until I acknowledged her. "What do you need?"
The tiny creature pulled on her lone ear, and squeaked with fear. "Binky tell strange elf, go away! She not go. She want Dark Prince."
"Bring her to me." I rose from my seat, and Potter joined me by the fire. Our guests returned to the main sitting area, and sat on the available furniture while keeping their attention on us.
An aged house-elf walked in carrying a basket filled with bundled cloth, and stopped before me. Vivid scars marred her face, and what I could see of her body. She struggled to place the package on the floor, and then she bowed with her head touching the ground.
The abused creature held her stance without moving. "You may rise. Tell me your business."
She stared at me with a solemn expression, and wrung her hands in a nervous gesture. "SSssss Hssss SSssss."
My gaze hardened on her, and my voice thundered. "What foolishness is this?"
Potter placed a hand on my arm, and tried to calm me. "She spoke in Parseltongue." My brows rose, and I glanced at Binky. Shocked eyes stared at the new elf, and she started to converse in the elven language.
The aged reptilian stared at us with a hopeful expression, and I weighed my choices. Did I want a house-elf to translate for me? Would any of it make sense? "You understand her, do you, Sir?"
The young man nodded, and kneeled to speak with the elf. She flinched from him, and huddled over the wrapped basket. Potter attempted to calm her with his smile, and Binky spoke to her in a melodic tone. The elf glanced at the young man talking to her, and wrung her hands fearfully while she explained the situation.
Potter's expression changed from disbelief, to concern. The elf motioned towards the bundle, and squeaked in protest when he reached for it. She stared at me with pleading eyes. Did she want me to take it? I kneeled on the floor, and unwrapped the package. A newborn infant lay inside a woven basket. The baby lay still, and it didn't seem to breathe. Was it alive?
"Gedion, we need you to look at the child." Quiet gasps met my statement, and a few people rose from the chairs to better see the infant. The elderly elf hissed and bared her teeth at the new arrivals, but she allowed the healer's approach. She snarled when he attempted to take the basket, so I retrieved it and handed it to him. The abused creature kept close to the healer, and fretted over the infant.
She wrung her tea towel in a nervous gesture, and bounced on her feet while keeping eyes on Gedion. Potter started talking with rapid hisses, and held the elf's attention while the healer cast diagnostic spells.
Gedion set the basket on the table, and stared at the child while he spoke. "Why would anyone use a Draught of Living Death on a healthy infant? It doesn't make sense."
Several curses flew through my mind, and my eyes snapped on Lucius. The Malfoy patriarch approached the basket, but the elf bared her teeth at him. Loud hisses erupted from the abused creature, and she held her arms over the child. He stepped back from the table. "Severus, could this be the child?"
"Impossible. It could never work." My hushed voice caused the others to pay attention, and they stared between Lucius and me.
He tried to step closer to the basket, and the elf slashed at him with her calloused hands. Lucius moved back, and kept his distance. "Do you have a better explanation? How many families have house-elves that speak parseltongue?"
Gedion ignored our conversation while he continued to run diagnostics on the child. "This can't be. The Draught of Living Death would kill an infant. How did this little girl survive? I don't even see any of the usual complications found in adults. Harry, can you ask her how long it affected the child?"
Potter entered into conversation with the strange elf, and they hissed for the next ten minutes while we waited for the simplest of answers. Did he have a hard time getting the creature to understand his question?
Their discussion ended, and he turned his attention to Gedion. "The elf has no reference for time, but I suspect sanity is an issue. She is bound to the Gaunt family. The baby belonged to Master Morfin, and his secret wife." How would we explain the father having died almost twenty years before the child was born?
Malfoy became rigid, and his crystal tumbler shattered against the marble floor. The astonished aristocrat paid no attention to the glass. He gripped his cane, and swung it downwards in an elegant gesture while he tried to regain his dignity. "My apologies, Mr. Potter."
My hand slid down, and pulled at my face. Why didn't Lucius tell me? When did Voldemort do this? Someone approached from behind, and the faint scent of ale comforted me. Gentle arms snaked around my waist, and I leaned into Rosmerta's embrace. "Severus, can you tell me what's wrong?"
"I did not think it possible."
"What wasn't?" Asked several voices at once. I couldn't distinguish one from the other.
Lucius approached me and spoke in a hushed voice for me alone to hear. "Severus, we need to dispose of the child."
Rosmerta overheard him. My pregnant wife glowered at Lucius, and thrust her finger at him. "You will not kill this child, and neither will Severus!"
"Indeed." Did he expect me to disagree with an angered mother-to-be?
"Murder? You can't do that!" Shouted Ginny.
Potter agreed with his wife, and spoke in a firm tone. "I forbid it."
The others agreed, and voiced their opinions at once. Lucius tried to calm them, but they stopped listening.
Malfoy became the focus of my gaze, and I tried to hide my anguish behind mental shields. How could a mother do that to her child? What was she thinking? My attention returned to Lucius, and I wondered what he kept from me. "What do you know?"
Malfoy's voice faltered. "I thought the child died, Severus. I had no idea it still lived."
"How did he do it? Who is the mother?" Silence followed my question, and everyone stared at Lucius. The Dark Lord had many plans for resurrection, but I didn't believe it possible. It was a theory, and nothing more.
Malfoy glanced at his wife, and shook his head at me. "Severus, we need to speak in private."
My gaze narrowed on the hesitant aristocrat. The Dark Lord caused too much pain, and I would not cower to his memory. "No! What do you have to hide? Voldemort will never return, and you have no reason to keep his secrets. Tell me what you know."
It didn't surprise me to see several shocked pairs of eyes staring at us. Lucius took a hesitant breath, and clenched his cane in a nervous gesture. Fisk handed Malfoy another tumbler filled with whiskey, and he took a long sip. He glanced at Potter and swallowed the burning amber fluid. The youth did not retract my command, so Lucius had to answer.
"Guards turned away when Morfin slipped from Azkaban. The chosen witch worshiped the Dark Lord, and did anything he asked of her. She would become the child's mother, and she agreed to marry in a private service. The child became a legitimate heir to the house of Gaunt."
Arms crossed over my chest, and I stared down at the baby with curly black hair. "You paid off the guards to look the other way, and found him a whore. When did they return Morfin to Azkaban?" Narcissa frowned at my descriptive word for the mother, but I did not care. I avoided looking at Minerva.
Malfoy's eyes flicked to his wife, and turned to the youth who held authority over our houses. "Mr. Potter, may we please continue our discussion in private?"
Narcissa strode to her husband's side, and spoke in a cold tone. "Lucius, I do not appreciate your secrecy."
He offered his wife a small smile, and swallowed before acquiescing. "You will like the answer even less-I am certain of it." She stiffened her back in challenge, and he raised his gaze to hers. "Bellatrix was the child's mother."
"My sister?" Narcissa stared at the basket, and made hesitant steps towards the table. The crazed elf snarled at her, and the woman backed away. "Tell that hideous creature to let me through!" Potter translated her request to the crazed elf, but she growled at him.
Gedion shook his head, and cast a charm on the infant. "We don't have enough information, and we risk harming the child by removing it from the basket."
Narcissa stepped closer to the little girl, but the elf stopped further progress. She glanced at her husband, and asked in a hushed whisper. "What else do you know about this child?"
The Malfoy patriarch inhaled, and turned towards the fireplace. He stared at the flickering flames while he answered. "Bella married Morfin in a secret wedding that I officiated. The house of Black worked with the Dark Lord, and approved of the arrangement. They returned him to Azkaban, and she gave birth. They no longer needed Morfin, so Voldemort allowed Bella to divorce him, and commanded Rodolphus to marry her."
McGonagall appeared puzzled by the information, and tried to remember something from her past. "The Gaunt family had inbreeding issues. Morfin preferred to use parseltongue, and seldom talked in any other language. Mother warned me about him, and his violent tendencies. The man never knew sanity."
Ginny glanced at the basket and shook her head. "That poor infant. What chance does she have with parents like that? Why did Voldemort want this child?"
Lucius gave Ginny a derisive snort. "He didn't care about the baby, or its sanity. Voldemort wanted the perfect pureblood body, and nothing else mattered. He ran a barrage of tests on the infant, and discovered that she was a Parselmouth. Her hair changed colour during the exam, and it delighted him to have the Black family ability. He wanted her powers. Dementors would kiss the infant and remove her soul, and Voldemort would claim her body."
Arms crossed my chest, and I sneered at Lucius. "It will delight your enemies to send you to Azkaban." Many disagreed with Malfoy's pardon, and they would persecute him for anything to make him suffer. It didn't matter that he only married the couple; they would accuse him of trying to resurrect Voldemort.
Malfoy never moved from his rigid stance, but a slight tip of his head acknowledged my statement.
Potter gave the basket a dubious glance. "Voldemort wanted to become a woman?"
Quiet chuckling greeted his question, but I shook my head. "The Dark Lord cared for power. Nothing else mattered."
Rosmerta stepped towards the basket, and the elf allowed her progress. Why did the elf let her through and not Narcissa? "Severus, I don't understand. Why did Voldemort want an infant, and not someone older?"
McGonagall stared at me with disapproving eyes, and I wondered if the others felt the same. Voldemort considered love a weakness, and now I understood. It would bother me to lose my family's trust. The situation demanded honesty, but I did not want to confess my involvement.
Lies worsened my outlook, so I decided to admit the truth. "The potion was a test to see if I was a worthy recruit, but Voldemort never informed me of having used it."
Lucius grinned at me and boasted. "Your skill impressed the Dark Lord." He turned to my wife and tipped his head in a gesture of acknowledgement. "Adults form a stronger bond with their soul, and their bodies die without it. Spirits can dominate and take control, but true possession can only happen with infants. A spirit has minutes to bond with the soulless body, or it will die."
Potter scowled at the Malfoy patriarch, and motioned to the baby. "Why did Voldemort need a new body if he already had this infant? He possessed an ugly little creature, and used me in that ritual for his resurrection."
Lucius's lips pulled into a genuine smile, and he motioned towards the elf. "She disappeared with the baby, and refused to serve the pretender. Voldemort assumed she would obey him, but magic recognised the infant as the Gaunt family heir. The elf bonded with her."
Potter swallowed the last of his whiskey, and none refilled his glass. "Is the little girl still there, or did he give her the Dementor's kiss?"
The Master's question intrigued me, and I braced myself for Malfoy's answer. "Indeed, Mr. Potter. Voldemort needed her soul to keep the body alive."
McGonagall released her held breath, and glanced at the infant. "Severus, you received accolades in fifth year for modifying that draught, and you said he tested your abilities with the potion. Was it you who created the formula to use on infants?" She received a nod in answer. "What else do you know about this situation?"
Potter's eyes widened, and he rose from the chair. "Severus, can you go to Azkaban for this?"
"No, Sir. The potion has a useful purpose, and the Ministry will approve it for St. Mungo's." Would they believe my memories? That happened before I agreed to spy for Dumbledore.
Lucius swallowed and returned his attention to the fire. "They will not offer me the same consideration. Records will show my involvement, because of the marital binding ritual."
Draco pushed himself from the chair, and charged across the room to protect his father. "No! We won't let them! They must never find out!" He turned on McGonagall, and spat at the elder witch. "You will take a vow of silence!"
Minerva scoffed at the blonde youth, and strode towards the table. The elf didn't stop her from approaching the infant. "I will do no such thing, Mr. Malfoy!" Did it recognise the members of my family? No, it stopped Potter.
Lucius stepped forward, and tried to appear calm. "Draco, that is not necessary." He motioned to the young Head of House, and then to myself. "We must abide by Mr. Potter's decision." He said that now, but I knew him better.
Draco folded arms across his chest and pleaded with his young friend. "Harry, you cannot throw my father into Azkaban."
Gedion placed a hand over his wife's, and watched her tuck a blanket around the baby. "I don't know how to revive the infant. The normal methods will kill it, and what happens when we do? The Ministry will ask questions when they discover her lineage."
"I know the antidote." My comment didn't surprise anyone.
Draco rubbed a hand over his lower left arm, and shook his head. "What about a muggle orphanage? Nobody asks questions when wizards drop off their squib children."
Potter glared at the Malfoy heir, and shook his head. "No. We cannot do that to this baby. She will have magic, and muggles... no."
Lucius tucked his cane under an arm, and attempted to persuade my Gryffindor Master. "Mr. Potter, you must see reason. We cannot keep her in the magical world. The Ministry will ask questions. What happens when she opens a vault at Gringotts, and they go to authenticate her magical signature with the birth registry. Will they discover it belongs to a witch twenty years her senior? They will use a lineage potion to solve the mystery, but that creates a larger mess." How would they explain the child's birth when her parents were long dead?
Ginny stared at the Malfoy patriarch. "Have you forgotten about Hogwarts? They will send her a letter."
Minerva shook her head. "The owls were already sent. Hogwarts would not know of her being affected by the living death."
Gedion brushed his hand over the baby's head, and gave McGonagall's arm a gentle squeeze. "Severus, what do you know about blood adoption potions?"
Why would he ask me that simple question? A healer who specialises in potions would already know the answer. "They bind a child's magic with their adoptive parents."
The healer shook his head, and I realised he was not thinking of a normal potion. What did he have in mind? Potter's eyes widened, and he turned to Draco with an excited grin. "Severus got it wrong! We took blood adoption potions. Do you remember the answer?"
My glare hardened on the young Master, and I folded my arms in agitation. How could he think that of me? Draco came to my rescue and shook his head at Potter. "He gave the right answer. How did you ever pass potions?"
"Severus gave me private lessons. He wouldn't let me fail." Draco rolled his eyes, and Potter gave me a cheeky grin. Those sessions tested my patience, and I never wanted to relive them.
Gedion listened to the playful banter, and waited for them to quieten. "Severus, are you familiar with the Famili, a Sanguine potion?"
"Indeed."
Potter waited for me to continue, but I had already answered the question. "Well, spill. Out with it then, what does it do?"
The youth's interest amused Gedion, but the git chose not to answer. He looked at me, as did everyone else. "The potion takes blood from one parent, and transfers genetic traits to the child. It also rewrites the child's lineage, and alters its magical signature. Muggles would say it mixed the DNA of the child and parent."
"What do you mean? That sounds illegal." Potter's question didn't surprise me.
"No, Sir. Wizards abhor the potion, because of inheritance and lineage. Society stopped using it centuries ago, and few people remember it. The Ministry doesn't know of its existence, or they would make it illegal." My gaze moved to Gedion, and I wondered about his knowledge. The healer intrigued me.
Draco straightened his tie, and ran a hand through his hair. The young aristocrat attempted to regain his dignity, and stiffened his back to show complete sobriety. He looked at me and asked, "What effect does it have on lineage?"
"Assume you accepted the parental role and donated blood. The baby would morph into a child that has features from you and the infant. Lineage potions would name you and the unmodified baby as her parents. The child's magical signature would also become a combination of yours and her earlier self. The same way your parent's merged to make yours."
Ginny leaned against the couch and shook her head. "That sounds creepy. Imagine being your own mother."
"Not exactly," admitted Gedion. "The earlier version of the child no longer exists. Ministry records update automatically, and they will think the person died. If the child has a magical core, they will record its birth after completing the changes. For that reason, the potion only works on infants."
Draco studied his shoes, and placed a hand in his pocket. Earnest eyes looked into his father's, and he spoke with sincerity. "I will do it for you, Father."
"Do what, Draco?" Lucius looked more afraid than he did confused, and I suspected he knew what his son meant.
"They can use my blood for the potion. It will cause an uproar at the Ministry if they discover you had an adulterous affair with your niece. Fears over blood purity will allow me to have a child with my cousin." Draco turned towards Narcissa. "Mother, will you help me raise the baby?" Why not? The infant could always use a little more inbreeding.
Narcissa smiled at her son. "I will, Draco, if your involvement becomes a necessity."
Potter paced before us, and tried to understand the conversation. "How can magic record a parent that never existed. Don't they need a name? What do you say when people never heard of that person?"
Lucius tapped his cane against the fireplace mantle, and drew Potter's attention. "Some parents never name their stillborn children, or those who die hours after birth. Magic will record the child with their Mother's initial, and surname. Nobody ever asks questions, and ill-bred women will try to hide unwanted pregnancies by secreting their children away. That happens more than you realise, but magic records them the same."
Narcissa walked towards the table, but the protective elf wouldn't let her near the child. "How can you hide Bella and Morfin's baby? Did anyone check the Black family tapestry?"
Lucius approached his wife, and brushed a hand down her arm. "Voldemort fixed the tapestry with an Incendio, and then a Notice-me-not to hide the damage."
McGonagall pursed her lips, and brushed a finger against the infant's cheek. "She never went to Hogwarts. How would you cover her not having a history in the wizarding or muggle world? You couldn't claim to keep her locked at your estate."
The disfigured elf stared at Gedion, and nudged him in the leg. Did she understand us? The healer placed his hand on the elf's head, and watched his wife's loving affections towards the infant. The man blinked several times, and looked down at the elf. "What... you don't mean to insinuate..."
The tiny creature gave a vigorous nod, and dazzled him with a wide smile showing several pointy little teeth. Gedion coughed into his hand, and gazed down at the infant. "What if Bella secreted her child to a foreign land?"
The elder Malfoy brightened at the suggestion, and straightened his stance. The snake realised a potential escape from Azkaban, and he embraced the idea. "You suffered under the Imperius, did you not?"
"Indeed."
Lucius's lips spread into a sly grin, and he gripped the cane in a firm grasp. "You forced yourself upon the woman, and she died in childbirth." Malfoy's elation at slithering away caused him to forgo decency, and I wondered if he even noticed. I have seldom seen him make etiquette blunders.
Narcissa gasped at her husband's comment, and scolded in a hushed whisper. "Lucius! There are women present."
Malfoy held his breath, and struggled with his emotional control. The patriarch exhaled, and tipped his head to Narcissa. "Indeed, my dear. You have my utmost apologies." He turned to the other women and offered a polite bow. "Please, forgive my crassness." His wife's rebuke humiliated him, but we all learned a valuable lesson. Men should stick together after drinking, and let the women do their own thing.
We needed clearer heads to discuss the situation, and we agreed to meet after breakfast. Lucius glanced at Potter with slight hesitation, and vanished into the floo. Draco and Narcissa soon followed. Binky showed the deranged house-elf to our nursery, and the McGonagalls went to bed. Perhaps, I should have given Minerva a dreamless sleep potion.
