A/N: Hey y'all! *laughs nervously* So… I know. It's been over a year since I've updated, and I promise one over a year ago. I actually had a chapter written and had planned to post it, but I just wasn't happy with it. I rewrote some of it, and I'm hoping that it's better. It's not a long chapter, but it's something, at least. I'm really sorry it's taken so long, and I won't set another time for an update (we all know how well that's been going), but rest assured that I'm not abandoning this.

As always, thanks to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed! You make my day, and actually spurred me into action. :)

Enjoy!

I Need to Know (Jekyll and Hyde)

Chapter 23

Lucius Malfoy walked up the front walk to his home, his blond hair fanning out behind him in the wind. He entered the house quickly, making sure to lock the door as soon as he was inside. You never knew who could be following you these days.

Quietly, so as not to startle his wife, Lucius made his way into the sitting room. He stopped in the doorway, smiling at the scene before him. Narcissa was sitting in an armchair by the brick fireplace, their month-old son cradled in her arms. She was humming softly to him, rocking him gently back and forth. The serene smile on her lips was one that he didn't see often lately, and some of the tension left his shoulders.

He padded over to her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Her humming stopped, but her gorgeous blue eyes lit up when she saw him.

"You're back," she murmured. "I thought you would be another hour or so."

"The Dark Lord let us home early," Lucius answered reluctantly—he didn't bring his master up to Narcissa if he could help it. "Of course, I came straight home to see the two of you."

Narcissa nodded slightly, her eyes dimming at the mention of their leader. "Lucius," she asked softly, "what is he planning?"

Lucius knew why she was nervous. It had been quiet for too long. Something big was coming, and neither Malfoy knew what role they'd be cast. Lucius was just glad that his wife hadn't taken up the Dark Mark; she wasn't an official member of the Death Eaters that way, so she would be protected from the more dangerous tasks Riddle assigned them. It eased his nerves knowing that if anything happened to him, Narcissa would still be there to take care of their son.

His wife ran the tip of her finger down their son's smooth cheek. "You haven't answered me, Lucius."

He sighed, reluctantly opening his mouth. "You know that I don't know what he's planning, Narcissa. But I know that it will benefit us—purify the world for our son."

Silence followed his statement, and Lucius knew that Narcissa wasn't impressed by the answer.

"Is it really worth it?" she whispered at last. "Draco… Draco could lose a parent."

Hearing the pain—and the terror—in her voice, Lucius knelt in front of Narcissa, cupping her face with his hands. He stared her straight in the eyes and said as solemnly as he could, "Think for a moment of a world where we didn't have to interact with those of lesser intelligence. Where everyone we met would be of the highest class. We wouldn't have to worry about thieves or cheats. Our world could be completely separate from the rot contaminating our lives. That is what I seek. Complete power over them. And there is only one man who can give that to us, Narcissa."

"My sister is already pledged to him," Narcissa whispered. "Our family is already connected with his cause. Why must we also be so close to him?"

"We will be protected that way, but we will not reap the benefits of the new world if we just sit back and watch your sister take it," Lucius said. "We must do this, Narcissa."

She didn't respond for a long time. Finally, she spoke, but her voice was cold and hard.

"There is something you're not telling me."

Lucius faltered, wishing for a moment that his wife couldn't read him so well. He believed that there was truth in what the Dark Lord preached, but could the world really be purged of all evil? If Riddle got what he wanted, what would become of the rest of them? Would this fight for power ever cease? So no, she was right; he wasn't completely sold to the cause. There were some prices he wasn't willing to pay. But he couldn't deny that he was fascinated by the promise of a more glamorous world—one where he never need fear for his family.

The Malfoys had always been on top, but they were targets for desperate people. Lucius' own father had been killed by a group of people looking for a ransom; he was terrified of falling victim to the same fate or, heaven forbid, his son.

But he wouldn't scare his wife with such thoughts. He leaned down to smooth Narcissa's hair out of her face, trying to smile. "The world will be greater," he promised her. It wasn't enough, and it wouldn't satisfy her, but it was all he could give.

He left the room before she could question him further, and was relieved when Draco let out a cry, proving that he was awake. Narcissa couldn't chase after him now.

Lucius climbed up the grand staircase and into the master bedroom, throwing his cloak onto the bed and collapsing into the chair in front of his desk. The war was a brutal one, he knew. He didn't understand any of it—the Order of the Phoenix had suffered such a terrible blow, yet there was no proof that they had disbanded. On the contrary, rumors of their existence had grown stronger.

Perhaps that was what the Dark Lord was waiting for. Maybe he needed the people to believe in the absence of the Order. But surely they hadn't missed his lack of action? Lucius knew that Bellatrix was pushing for immediate action—the Potter wedding had sparked an undeniable hope within the people, and an uprising seemed closer than ever. Riddle was in power, but he had yet to gain absolute control. Fear was key in keeping the citizens under control, but the Dark Lord wasn't making his move.

This scared Lucius much more than fighting would have.

Why was the Order opposing this? Why didn't they just stand down? People were dying. How many more would have to before someone gave in? The war was practically won already—Dumbledore couldn't compete with the political power Riddle had. He could put up a fight, yes, and an admirable one at that, but one day his precious Order would fall.

Lucius slammed his fists against the desk surface, suddenly furious. If the rebels didn't give up the fight soon, then his son would be in danger. And if anything, anything at all happened to his son, there would be hell to pay.

Lucius stood, palms flat against the desk. He had to ensure his son's safety. He had to fight this war; he had to win it.

Draco had to have his mother, yes. But his father was not key to his survival.

Lucius left the room, swinging his cloak back around his shoulders. He had work to do.

Frank's hands were shaking. He kept running them through his hair, but it wasn't helping. He was in the corner of his bedroom, pacing around and around the bed that Alice was lying in. Poppy Pomfrey was talking her through the process, though Frank wasn't sure how much his wife heard over her own yelling. Remus was there too, his brow furrowed slightly as he concentrated on helping Alice through the pain. He and the healer were going to keep Alice as comfortable as possible, and make sure nothing went wrong. Frank's job would come later—he had to catch the baby.

It seemed like a lot to trust him with.

He told himself repeatedly as he squeezed Alice's hand that he would be able to do it. That he wouldn't drop his son or daughter, and he or she would be safe in his or her father's arms. He wasn't quite sure he believed himself. He had, after all, let down the people he cared about before. Who was to say that he could be a proper father to this baby? He wanted to try, certainly—that much he was sure of. But his own father had died when he was very young. The only role model he'd had was Remus' own father, Lyall Lupin, and he had disappeared when they were only boys. He didn't have much experience to go off of.

Frank ran a hand through his hair, trying to dislodge those negative thoughts. This was a happy occasion. Scary as hell, yes, but happy overall.

Hours later, he was crouching down in front of his wife, watching carefully for a head.

Alice's dark hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, and her face was screwed up as her body worked its magic. Frank took a second to marvel at the female body—it was powerful enough to grow life, deliver it, and then feed it for months afterwards. It was an impressive thing, and he admired his wife's courage and endurance.

Then Alice let out one more strangled grunt, and the baby shot out. Frank's body reacted instinctively, his hands shooting out to grab the small body and cradle it to his chest. An ear-splitting wail emitted from the tiny thing, the baby's red face scrunched up. Frank glanced down and his face erupted in a wide grin.

"I have a son," he whispered, his voice lost in the screams of the boy in his arms. He was dazed, giddy. Elated. "Hello, Neville."

He brought the boy over to his mother, and despite the bags under her eyes and her pale skin, her smile was radiant. She took Neville from him gently, her eyes soft. Frank was careful not to snag the umbilical cord on anything as he passed the child over, and then he pressed a kiss against his wife's temple, pride bursting through every pore of his being. He had a son. A child. Someone who was half of him and half of the woman he loved more than anyone in the world.

"Oh, Frank," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "He's perfect."

Frank couldn't speak through his grin, so he just nodded. He reached out and caught Neville's tiny red fist in his hand, marvelling how the wrinkled fingers wrapped around his own.

Augusta came over a few minutes later to clean the child, and they severed the cord tying him to his mother. Once Neville was wrapped in a warm blanket knit by Alice herself, he was placed back in the arms of his father. The family basked in the glow of their son for a little longer before Frank turned to the man in the back of the room, who was helping Madam Pomfrey clean up.

Frank made his way over just as the matron was leaving, and after thanking her profusely, he looked at Remus.

"This is Neville," he told him proudly, "and I think he'd like to see his godfather."

Remus glanced up at him in disbelief, startled, before a large grin slowly

took over his face. "I'd like that," he admitted softly.

Frank handed his son over, and as he looked at Remus and Neville, he knew that whatever became of him or Alice, his boy would be in good hands.

"If anything happens to me or Alice," Frank reminded him, "Neville will need you."

Remus' amber eyes were bright. "I know." He sucked in a shaky breath, looking more alert than Frank had seen him since before his imprisonment. "I'll protect him with my life, I swear."

Frank knew that he meant it.

Frank leaned against the wall, crossing his arms contentedly. "I know you will," he said truthfully. But his smile faded with his next words, and his voice grew stern. "You can't just throw your life around anymore. You have to be around for him." He placed a hand on Remus' scarred arm. "For all of us."

Remus swallowed thickly, then nodded. "I know. I will be. I want to be here, Frank." He looked his friend in the eye. "I don't want you to think that I don't."

Swallowing an emotion he couldn't name, Frank nodded. "Good." He looked down at Neville, who was sleeping in his uncle's arms. He laughed a little. "Looks like he likes you already."

Remus grinned broadly. "Well, good. I like him, too." He paused, and then said, "He'll be a fighter, like his parents. I can feel it."

A thrill of fear raced through Frank. "I don't want him to have to be."

"He won't have to," Remus promised, amber eyes still on the little bundle. "But he'll be strong enough to handle whatever the world throws at him. He'll make history."

Frank smiled at the conviction of Remus' words, though he prayed that, whatever happened, Neville would never fight in the war they were struggling with. But his friend was right; his son would be stronger than the monsters in the world could imagine.

Frank vowed then and there to take as many of those monsters out with him, and he knew instinctively that Remus and Alice had sworn to do the same.

A/N: The chapters are going to get darker and more action-based from here on out. I'll put warnings in the beginning of particularly violent chapters, so pay attention to those and take care of yourself :)