Dear Rowan,
I don't really know what to write which is stupid seeing as I'm here writing a letter to you. I mean there must be a point to it, right? Well, I wanted to check that you are okay. I didn't see you at breakfast and well, after last night, and what you said I became a little concerned.
I thought the best thing to do would be send Hedwig then you will get this whereever you are. You can't be in too much trouble surely? I mean it would take time to get to Hogwarts and to take you to wherever, oh God Rowan, you have to be all right. I know I'm rambling, but they simply wouldn't have enough time, you can't apparate inside Hogwarts and well, just be okay.
Perhaps I'm being paranoid and you were just sleeping in. Anyway, write back,
Thinking of you, Harry.
P.S. If I don't get an answer soon I'll ask someone discreetly, like my friend Hermione, I'm sure you know who she is, or maybe Dumbledore; he'd know what to do, he'd get them off your back. XxX
********
Rowan put the letter down, Hedwig hooting softly beside her. Lucius had gone, gone into another grand looking house, whose drive was playing host to his carriage. Well the house would have been grand if the windows were all in tact, the panes were cracked and dusted with the kind of sticky grime abandoned houses attract. The large dark doors, cracked and worn, creaked heartily when he had opened them. The medieval grey stone gargoyles looked even more twisted and deformed as they loomed down on the forgotten building.
It looked like the kind of place Voldemort would thrive, or so she thought. That was until she caught sight of a rusting swing set in the garden, wild and overgrown. That would have to be removed, she thought sourly, he could not stand such an item, one that could bring pleasure to the innocent.
Quite what Lucius was doing here, was a mystery, unless he was of course house hunting for Voldemort. If he was then she doubted this was his first choice, and not because of its cosmetic appearance. No, soon after his last outburst, he had ordered the coach around, and away they had sped, off in another direction.
Another surprise was the lack of security. He had done or even said nothing as he slid out of the carriage. Rowan was expecting some sort of binding hex to hold her into position as he went about his business, but there was nothing. Lucius Malfoy seemed to be loosing his touch.
Her attention turned back to the owl, it wanted a reply. To buy some time, she re-read the letter. "He doesn't half go on," She thought. "What? No apparition in Hogwarts? I'd have thought he would have worked past that one by now. Precious Potter, too blind to anything even a little dark. Hermione?" She frowned, not too sure who he meant." But Dumbledore? Hell. That would be it, another way to a quick death."
She would have to write back, there was no avoiding corresponding with scar-head. Yet she had no quill; she'd have to wait for Lucius. How Rowan hated relying on other people. If you wanted something done, then do it yourself, that way any mistakes were your own fault.
Sighing, she arched her neck out of the window, midday sun shortening all the shadows, which was just as well; the place didn't need anymore scariness. There was no sign of the man; he had shut the door behind him. He hadn't even knocked. Which he could have done, seeing as there was a big silver doorknocker in the shape of a lion's head. It was tarnished and less majestic, with one of its great teeth chipped. For some reason, Rowan felt a strange affinity with it, the kind of feeling that you get when recognition dawns on you. Yes, she had seen something like that before, but it wasn't quite like that one. It had been gold and in much better condition, but that had been in Albania somewhere.
Pushing the thought away carelessly, she settled back into the carriage seat, wondering what to do. She needed a quill, Lucius had one, but quite how long he was going to take was a mystery. For all she knew, he could be hours and by that time Potter might have blabbed to Hermione or worse to the interfering twit of a Headmaster and her plan would be in tatters, as would her reputation and, undoubtedly, Voldemort's faith in her. Christ.
Hedwig flapped her wings and a thought occurred to Rowan. "Hah! So Transfiguration does have its uses. But I shall need a wand if this delectable bird is to become a quill." Of course Lucius had hers; he did have some sense. She mused for a moment, and then settled on a thought. She had done it before, or rather had seen it being done before, that was performing magic without the use of a wand. After all, a wand was simply a means to refine and channel your own magical energy. For example, only wizards and witches could use wands, give them to a Muggle and they might as well use them for firewood. The power came from within and this was a last resort.
She sat up, smoothing her skirt, her uniform now disgustingly dirty. She cleared her throat and looked intently into the owl's big orange eyes. Taking a breath she placed her right hand on its head, closed her eyes and concentrated. "Stylus incartae."
There was nothing left underneath her hand and so Rowan opened her eyes hopefully. It was a quill, not a very normal looking one, but there were definite quill qualities to it. It had a nib, a brown metal one, it had an ink supply, which looked vaguely normal and it had feathers, a bit too many but there is nothing wrong in being flamboyant. Sadly though, it had feet.
Well, claws, but nevertheless they were feet all the same. Rowan winced as she looked at her experiment. "Hmmm." Luckily for her, Hedwig no longer had a head as her fingers would have been in danger of being pecked off. She grasped the animal quill, reasoning that all quills were made out of birds, and started to write on the back of Harry's letter.
********
The Lennox house was filled with musky aromas, dank and dusty. It had not seen a scrap of undiluted sunlight for years. The whole place reeked of decay. Inside was more lavish than the Malfoy's house, sweeping staircases at either side of the entrance hall and what would have been a glorious stained glass window if it had not been boarded up was at the very end of the space, lay before his eyes.
He moved quickly, knowing where to go up the right-hand-staircase, where to turn left into the bedroom, its bed stripped bare, the posts looking skeletal in his wandlight. He moved along the paneled walls, feeling his way with his ungloved hands until there. Until his hands met with the invisible crack, he pushed his fingers deeper into it, feeling the wood pressing into his nails. Lucius tugged and with a small jolt, the wooden panel swung open, revealing stones, worn and riddled with sand markings, he counted along from the right to five and removed the appropriate stone.
Behind it was a small space, layered with dust and little stones, he scrabbled around in it before curling his fingers around what he had been looking for. He grasped it to his chest, thanking some unknown person that it was where he had been told.
He put the stone back and reattached the wooden panel, even adding some dust with his wand. Turning, he swiftly left the bedroom, not noticing the green slit-eyes glowing under the bed.
********
"There," Rowan said out loud. "You'll do nicely." She rolled up the parchment but stopped at the sound of the great doors slamming shut. She looked out of the window again and sure enough, Malfoy was making his way towards his transportation.
He climbed easily back in and almost choked. "What on Earth is that?"
He was looking at the quill who was running around attempting to flap.
"Harry Potter's owl." She answered dryly.
Lucius frowned, momentarily distracted by his new discovery. "What did he do to it?"
"Uh, well it's more what I did to it." She said, blushing.
He looked blankly at her. "It arrived with a letter from Potter, I needed to write back."
"So you mutated some poor owl?"
"Potter's owl." She said defensively, thinking that it somehow deserved it.
"What was the rush?" He asked.
Thinking it would be easier to just give him the letter, she passed it to him. He scanned it, an amused look playing on his face. "I see. You wouldn't want the Mudblood interfering now would you? What are you going to write back?"
She motioned for him to turn over.
*********
Dear Harry,
I am okay. I am not at Hogwarts, in fact I'm not sure where I am. Lucius Malfoy came for me last night, he took me somewhere and now I'm stuck in a carriage outside some house, not his. I am not hurt, or in any immediate danger so please do not tell anyone. I fear that if you do, something terrible will happen. Do not speak of me to anyone, Harry. Think of your own position, think of who other people think I am and how they would react if they knew you were helping me.
You say nothing of Draco, I take it you haven't spoken to him. If you do see him, please don't do anything Harry. He might tell his Father and well I do not believe that me being away has anything to do with our meeting. As strange as it may seem. If you do then well, they'd know and I'd be as good as dead.
I don't know how long I shall be away. I do know that you are in my thoughts, far more than I thought you would be. We must meet again when I return. Harry, I don't want to be with the Malfoys anymore, I think I want to be with you.
Look out for yourself,
Love Rowan xxxxxx
********
"Quite the romantic, aren't you?" He said sardonically. "I suppose you'll want to send this off?" He frowned at the bird, sub-consciously wondering how any daughter of his could be so bad at Transfiguration. He stopped himself in the middle of the thought, muttering "Stylus illana." Hedwig reamerged and Lucius waved the letter onto her leg with a swish of his wand.
She flew out of the window, leaving them alone. Lucius ordered the coach to return to his Manor and muttered something about "not wanting Malfoy". He grumbled to himself as he settled back into his leather seat.
She was his daughter. How could he have been so careless as to miss it? So clueless? The answer was easy for him to understand, Rowan was so much like Anthony Lennox that any question of her paternity could have been dismissed instantly. And Rowan Lennox did have a better ring to it than Rowan Malfoy.
He repeated the name over in his head, she would be called that if she did marry Draco. "Oh," he thought sourly, "She's been fucking her brother..Christ" Then the more obvious thought dawned on him." I had sex with her...Fuck That's fucking kinky."
"What's the matter?" Rowan asked.
"Nothing." He said quickly. "Just wondering how you could fuck that owl up so badly."
He was sure she muttered something about "language".
Lucius looked at her then down at the floor. "Perhaps it's better that she's going after Potter."
"I didn't have a wand." She said.
"Oh. Oh!" He said in realisation, delving into his pocket. "Here you go." He passed her the wand and she promptly looked it over. "That's a good wand, Rowan. Mountain Ash I believe, rowan in fact. Was that intentional?"
She raised an eyebrow. "No."
"Shame, would have made a good story. You know I'm surprised. Rowan is a wood favoured by the Light, it is hated by the Dark. And here you are, a Death Eater called Rowan with a wand of the same name. A bit ironic, don't you think?"
"I didn't choose my name."
"No? Who did? Mum or Dad?" He realised what he had just said.
"I don't know. I never liked it, whoever chose it." She suddenly found she couldn't care less about the man in front of her. He was nothing to her. So what if he was keeping her for a while? The sooner she got back to work the better.
"No? What would you have preferred?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
"You know I named Draco? Narcissa wanted something ordinary like Charles or something like that but I don't think Charles would have suited him." He babbled on but Rowan was only half-listening.
"I think Rowan is alright for you really, my dear. But if you wanted something different, why not try some other names?"
"Like?"
"Well now, something Latin, yes stick to the old languages. Beatrix? That was my Grandmother's name. Or Hebrew. How about Lilith? I believe that has something to do with serpents, which is rather appropriate."
Rowan frowned, wondering why Lucius was so intent on choosing a name, mind you, she could do with a new identity. It looked increasingly likely that she may need one, if her plan was going to work.
"No? While on L's how about Lucia or even Lux. That's rather delicious isn't it?"
"You only think that because you're called Lucius." She said sarcastically, Mr. Malfoy could be quite a vain git when he wanted.
He heeded her words and stopped. He had been trying to give her a name. "Good Lord." He thought. "I've taken this a little too far. But a daughter? Why didn't I know before? Don't think do you Malfoy." He looked at Rowan, his head tilted to one side. "She's mine." He thought softly. "She's all mine."
***********
As he lay in his bed, his wife asleep beside him, Lucius thought about everything. He thought about Annya, about her laugh, her smile, and the way her eyes would crinkle and sparkle. He thought of Anthony, of the bruises that Annya would show him, the bruises that Anthony would inflict on her. About his malice, his hatred for someone whom he was meant to love. He thought of it all, over and over.
The face of Annya melted seamlessly into that of Rowan. They were so alike it was frightening. He thought of the bruises and of that on Rowan's young face. He bit his lip with a horrible realisation that he had been responsible for it. He had hit her, and hit her again, just like Anthony.
But she did not know. Rowan was blind to it all. She did not know the truth. She did not know that her mother had loved him, had hated her Father and that her Father was not her real Father at all. He was.
All the time his mystery child had remained a mystery. He had imagined all possibilities, that the child was dead, buried and gone. That it was in an Albanian orphanage, unaware of its true heritage, but never that his child was brought up as his enemy's. Never that. Not that his love was beaten and kept from their child. Not that she got no part in the child's growing up. Not that his child would be molded by Anthony Lennox into the girl that Rowan had become. Never that. Never that his child would become a servant to his own Master, equal to himself. Not while he was still alive at least. And never that his child would be able to drive him into such a state that he had to force himself upon her just to get what he wanted. He never thought that could happen. Never.
But it had. It was all true. It was fact.
Rowan was not a Lennox but a Malfoy. She belonged with him there. Where he could watch over her, where he could sculpt her, never too forcefully, allowing her to develop as she should. Any Malfoy would have a natural curiosity in The Dark Arts, there was no need to force it upon them, unless of course they refused. But she was a Death Eater. She was his eldest child. She was his.
Yet it could not happen. It could never happen. Rowan would never be able to simply exist alongside Draco and Narcissa. She out shone Narcissa by too much, his wife would become jealous and bitter and Draco had always thought of himself as the eldest. Even if he got rid of his wife, he could not have her there. She was still Anthony's, loyal to him and her master alone. She was also illegitimate.
So even if she found out that Lucius was her true father, she would not be able to claim anything from him. And if she found out then Anthony would be sure to find out too. He would find out he been bringing up Lucius' child as his own. He would have no choice but to disown Rowan. He would abandon her, leave her to fend for herself with no chance of social acceptance. She would become a pariah.
It was a Catch-22 situation. Yet as his daughter slept in one of his guestrooms, he could not help pretending, just for a bit, that she was home for good. Back where she belonged.
*******
A/N: Wow! Reviews! Yeay, I love my reviews! *Hugs and kisses* I'm glad you like that chapter, I do feel guilty at putting the characters through this but this fic is going to get darker.
Jeanne: Kool! I adore that snake idea, in fact you have inspired me to add a serpent into this fic, it was going to be an elf but well, you'll find out more in the next chapter. ;) As for Draco knowing who Rowan was, I think our girl must have informed Parkinson and she would have told as many people as possible. Never underestimate the power of gossip!
As for her feelings towards the Malfoys, well they've certainly changed. Of course she doesn't know about Lucius or Draco, thank God, you can imagine how she would feel. But as I said before this is a dark fic and involuntary incest is just one part.
With Harry, your picking up right ideas, she needs to lure him into Voldemort/s clutches some how. But whether she really does want him will remain a secret, for now. ;) It is very ironic but I'm pleased it is in different ways, I'm liking Draconis too much to see anything that foul happen to her. Xxx
GothicMuse13: I like your name a lot! Thanks for starting to read the fic, I don't know when or if you'll see this message as you reviewed chapter 7 but thanks all the same :)
Cancerious: Yeay! I'm glad you saw that Lucy was the good guy, it will be very important later on ;) It is pretty disgusting but if you think about this kind of thing happens quite often :( Thanks for the good luck, I think I'm going to need it! I have 25 pages of Latin vocab to learn. :0
Serenia-dreamer of the woods: My most loyal reviewer! Thanks for the compliments, I've never written to you personally! As for Watchers of Lorien, well it seems what with my exams in may and June I'm going to be way too busy to do any fic writing. I'm hoping to finish this story, there is going to be a sequel, but maybe before I start that I will complete Watchers. It is about time I got back to Haldir and Mr. Bow-twanger!;)
totally_2bular_girl: Hey to you for the first time also! How long have you been reading my fic and not reviewing? ;) Yep it is EW but as I said before its dark and dirty and very unpleasant! Hope you're enjoying :)
Xxxxxxxxx Aurelia
I don't really know what to write which is stupid seeing as I'm here writing a letter to you. I mean there must be a point to it, right? Well, I wanted to check that you are okay. I didn't see you at breakfast and well, after last night, and what you said I became a little concerned.
I thought the best thing to do would be send Hedwig then you will get this whereever you are. You can't be in too much trouble surely? I mean it would take time to get to Hogwarts and to take you to wherever, oh God Rowan, you have to be all right. I know I'm rambling, but they simply wouldn't have enough time, you can't apparate inside Hogwarts and well, just be okay.
Perhaps I'm being paranoid and you were just sleeping in. Anyway, write back,
Thinking of you, Harry.
P.S. If I don't get an answer soon I'll ask someone discreetly, like my friend Hermione, I'm sure you know who she is, or maybe Dumbledore; he'd know what to do, he'd get them off your back. XxX
********
Rowan put the letter down, Hedwig hooting softly beside her. Lucius had gone, gone into another grand looking house, whose drive was playing host to his carriage. Well the house would have been grand if the windows were all in tact, the panes were cracked and dusted with the kind of sticky grime abandoned houses attract. The large dark doors, cracked and worn, creaked heartily when he had opened them. The medieval grey stone gargoyles looked even more twisted and deformed as they loomed down on the forgotten building.
It looked like the kind of place Voldemort would thrive, or so she thought. That was until she caught sight of a rusting swing set in the garden, wild and overgrown. That would have to be removed, she thought sourly, he could not stand such an item, one that could bring pleasure to the innocent.
Quite what Lucius was doing here, was a mystery, unless he was of course house hunting for Voldemort. If he was then she doubted this was his first choice, and not because of its cosmetic appearance. No, soon after his last outburst, he had ordered the coach around, and away they had sped, off in another direction.
Another surprise was the lack of security. He had done or even said nothing as he slid out of the carriage. Rowan was expecting some sort of binding hex to hold her into position as he went about his business, but there was nothing. Lucius Malfoy seemed to be loosing his touch.
Her attention turned back to the owl, it wanted a reply. To buy some time, she re-read the letter. "He doesn't half go on," She thought. "What? No apparition in Hogwarts? I'd have thought he would have worked past that one by now. Precious Potter, too blind to anything even a little dark. Hermione?" She frowned, not too sure who he meant." But Dumbledore? Hell. That would be it, another way to a quick death."
She would have to write back, there was no avoiding corresponding with scar-head. Yet she had no quill; she'd have to wait for Lucius. How Rowan hated relying on other people. If you wanted something done, then do it yourself, that way any mistakes were your own fault.
Sighing, she arched her neck out of the window, midday sun shortening all the shadows, which was just as well; the place didn't need anymore scariness. There was no sign of the man; he had shut the door behind him. He hadn't even knocked. Which he could have done, seeing as there was a big silver doorknocker in the shape of a lion's head. It was tarnished and less majestic, with one of its great teeth chipped. For some reason, Rowan felt a strange affinity with it, the kind of feeling that you get when recognition dawns on you. Yes, she had seen something like that before, but it wasn't quite like that one. It had been gold and in much better condition, but that had been in Albania somewhere.
Pushing the thought away carelessly, she settled back into the carriage seat, wondering what to do. She needed a quill, Lucius had one, but quite how long he was going to take was a mystery. For all she knew, he could be hours and by that time Potter might have blabbed to Hermione or worse to the interfering twit of a Headmaster and her plan would be in tatters, as would her reputation and, undoubtedly, Voldemort's faith in her. Christ.
Hedwig flapped her wings and a thought occurred to Rowan. "Hah! So Transfiguration does have its uses. But I shall need a wand if this delectable bird is to become a quill." Of course Lucius had hers; he did have some sense. She mused for a moment, and then settled on a thought. She had done it before, or rather had seen it being done before, that was performing magic without the use of a wand. After all, a wand was simply a means to refine and channel your own magical energy. For example, only wizards and witches could use wands, give them to a Muggle and they might as well use them for firewood. The power came from within and this was a last resort.
She sat up, smoothing her skirt, her uniform now disgustingly dirty. She cleared her throat and looked intently into the owl's big orange eyes. Taking a breath she placed her right hand on its head, closed her eyes and concentrated. "Stylus incartae."
There was nothing left underneath her hand and so Rowan opened her eyes hopefully. It was a quill, not a very normal looking one, but there were definite quill qualities to it. It had a nib, a brown metal one, it had an ink supply, which looked vaguely normal and it had feathers, a bit too many but there is nothing wrong in being flamboyant. Sadly though, it had feet.
Well, claws, but nevertheless they were feet all the same. Rowan winced as she looked at her experiment. "Hmmm." Luckily for her, Hedwig no longer had a head as her fingers would have been in danger of being pecked off. She grasped the animal quill, reasoning that all quills were made out of birds, and started to write on the back of Harry's letter.
********
The Lennox house was filled with musky aromas, dank and dusty. It had not seen a scrap of undiluted sunlight for years. The whole place reeked of decay. Inside was more lavish than the Malfoy's house, sweeping staircases at either side of the entrance hall and what would have been a glorious stained glass window if it had not been boarded up was at the very end of the space, lay before his eyes.
He moved quickly, knowing where to go up the right-hand-staircase, where to turn left into the bedroom, its bed stripped bare, the posts looking skeletal in his wandlight. He moved along the paneled walls, feeling his way with his ungloved hands until there. Until his hands met with the invisible crack, he pushed his fingers deeper into it, feeling the wood pressing into his nails. Lucius tugged and with a small jolt, the wooden panel swung open, revealing stones, worn and riddled with sand markings, he counted along from the right to five and removed the appropriate stone.
Behind it was a small space, layered with dust and little stones, he scrabbled around in it before curling his fingers around what he had been looking for. He grasped it to his chest, thanking some unknown person that it was where he had been told.
He put the stone back and reattached the wooden panel, even adding some dust with his wand. Turning, he swiftly left the bedroom, not noticing the green slit-eyes glowing under the bed.
********
"There," Rowan said out loud. "You'll do nicely." She rolled up the parchment but stopped at the sound of the great doors slamming shut. She looked out of the window again and sure enough, Malfoy was making his way towards his transportation.
He climbed easily back in and almost choked. "What on Earth is that?"
He was looking at the quill who was running around attempting to flap.
"Harry Potter's owl." She answered dryly.
Lucius frowned, momentarily distracted by his new discovery. "What did he do to it?"
"Uh, well it's more what I did to it." She said, blushing.
He looked blankly at her. "It arrived with a letter from Potter, I needed to write back."
"So you mutated some poor owl?"
"Potter's owl." She said defensively, thinking that it somehow deserved it.
"What was the rush?" He asked.
Thinking it would be easier to just give him the letter, she passed it to him. He scanned it, an amused look playing on his face. "I see. You wouldn't want the Mudblood interfering now would you? What are you going to write back?"
She motioned for him to turn over.
*********
Dear Harry,
I am okay. I am not at Hogwarts, in fact I'm not sure where I am. Lucius Malfoy came for me last night, he took me somewhere and now I'm stuck in a carriage outside some house, not his. I am not hurt, or in any immediate danger so please do not tell anyone. I fear that if you do, something terrible will happen. Do not speak of me to anyone, Harry. Think of your own position, think of who other people think I am and how they would react if they knew you were helping me.
You say nothing of Draco, I take it you haven't spoken to him. If you do see him, please don't do anything Harry. He might tell his Father and well I do not believe that me being away has anything to do with our meeting. As strange as it may seem. If you do then well, they'd know and I'd be as good as dead.
I don't know how long I shall be away. I do know that you are in my thoughts, far more than I thought you would be. We must meet again when I return. Harry, I don't want to be with the Malfoys anymore, I think I want to be with you.
Look out for yourself,
Love Rowan xxxxxx
********
"Quite the romantic, aren't you?" He said sardonically. "I suppose you'll want to send this off?" He frowned at the bird, sub-consciously wondering how any daughter of his could be so bad at Transfiguration. He stopped himself in the middle of the thought, muttering "Stylus illana." Hedwig reamerged and Lucius waved the letter onto her leg with a swish of his wand.
She flew out of the window, leaving them alone. Lucius ordered the coach to return to his Manor and muttered something about "not wanting Malfoy". He grumbled to himself as he settled back into his leather seat.
She was his daughter. How could he have been so careless as to miss it? So clueless? The answer was easy for him to understand, Rowan was so much like Anthony Lennox that any question of her paternity could have been dismissed instantly. And Rowan Lennox did have a better ring to it than Rowan Malfoy.
He repeated the name over in his head, she would be called that if she did marry Draco. "Oh," he thought sourly, "She's been fucking her brother..Christ" Then the more obvious thought dawned on him." I had sex with her...Fuck That's fucking kinky."
"What's the matter?" Rowan asked.
"Nothing." He said quickly. "Just wondering how you could fuck that owl up so badly."
He was sure she muttered something about "language".
Lucius looked at her then down at the floor. "Perhaps it's better that she's going after Potter."
"I didn't have a wand." She said.
"Oh. Oh!" He said in realisation, delving into his pocket. "Here you go." He passed her the wand and she promptly looked it over. "That's a good wand, Rowan. Mountain Ash I believe, rowan in fact. Was that intentional?"
She raised an eyebrow. "No."
"Shame, would have made a good story. You know I'm surprised. Rowan is a wood favoured by the Light, it is hated by the Dark. And here you are, a Death Eater called Rowan with a wand of the same name. A bit ironic, don't you think?"
"I didn't choose my name."
"No? Who did? Mum or Dad?" He realised what he had just said.
"I don't know. I never liked it, whoever chose it." She suddenly found she couldn't care less about the man in front of her. He was nothing to her. So what if he was keeping her for a while? The sooner she got back to work the better.
"No? What would you have preferred?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
"You know I named Draco? Narcissa wanted something ordinary like Charles or something like that but I don't think Charles would have suited him." He babbled on but Rowan was only half-listening.
"I think Rowan is alright for you really, my dear. But if you wanted something different, why not try some other names?"
"Like?"
"Well now, something Latin, yes stick to the old languages. Beatrix? That was my Grandmother's name. Or Hebrew. How about Lilith? I believe that has something to do with serpents, which is rather appropriate."
Rowan frowned, wondering why Lucius was so intent on choosing a name, mind you, she could do with a new identity. It looked increasingly likely that she may need one, if her plan was going to work.
"No? While on L's how about Lucia or even Lux. That's rather delicious isn't it?"
"You only think that because you're called Lucius." She said sarcastically, Mr. Malfoy could be quite a vain git when he wanted.
He heeded her words and stopped. He had been trying to give her a name. "Good Lord." He thought. "I've taken this a little too far. But a daughter? Why didn't I know before? Don't think do you Malfoy." He looked at Rowan, his head tilted to one side. "She's mine." He thought softly. "She's all mine."
***********
As he lay in his bed, his wife asleep beside him, Lucius thought about everything. He thought about Annya, about her laugh, her smile, and the way her eyes would crinkle and sparkle. He thought of Anthony, of the bruises that Annya would show him, the bruises that Anthony would inflict on her. About his malice, his hatred for someone whom he was meant to love. He thought of it all, over and over.
The face of Annya melted seamlessly into that of Rowan. They were so alike it was frightening. He thought of the bruises and of that on Rowan's young face. He bit his lip with a horrible realisation that he had been responsible for it. He had hit her, and hit her again, just like Anthony.
But she did not know. Rowan was blind to it all. She did not know the truth. She did not know that her mother had loved him, had hated her Father and that her Father was not her real Father at all. He was.
All the time his mystery child had remained a mystery. He had imagined all possibilities, that the child was dead, buried and gone. That it was in an Albanian orphanage, unaware of its true heritage, but never that his child was brought up as his enemy's. Never that. Not that his love was beaten and kept from their child. Not that she got no part in the child's growing up. Not that his child would be molded by Anthony Lennox into the girl that Rowan had become. Never that. Never that his child would become a servant to his own Master, equal to himself. Not while he was still alive at least. And never that his child would be able to drive him into such a state that he had to force himself upon her just to get what he wanted. He never thought that could happen. Never.
But it had. It was all true. It was fact.
Rowan was not a Lennox but a Malfoy. She belonged with him there. Where he could watch over her, where he could sculpt her, never too forcefully, allowing her to develop as she should. Any Malfoy would have a natural curiosity in The Dark Arts, there was no need to force it upon them, unless of course they refused. But she was a Death Eater. She was his eldest child. She was his.
Yet it could not happen. It could never happen. Rowan would never be able to simply exist alongside Draco and Narcissa. She out shone Narcissa by too much, his wife would become jealous and bitter and Draco had always thought of himself as the eldest. Even if he got rid of his wife, he could not have her there. She was still Anthony's, loyal to him and her master alone. She was also illegitimate.
So even if she found out that Lucius was her true father, she would not be able to claim anything from him. And if she found out then Anthony would be sure to find out too. He would find out he been bringing up Lucius' child as his own. He would have no choice but to disown Rowan. He would abandon her, leave her to fend for herself with no chance of social acceptance. She would become a pariah.
It was a Catch-22 situation. Yet as his daughter slept in one of his guestrooms, he could not help pretending, just for a bit, that she was home for good. Back where she belonged.
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A/N: Wow! Reviews! Yeay, I love my reviews! *Hugs and kisses* I'm glad you like that chapter, I do feel guilty at putting the characters through this but this fic is going to get darker.
Jeanne: Kool! I adore that snake idea, in fact you have inspired me to add a serpent into this fic, it was going to be an elf but well, you'll find out more in the next chapter. ;) As for Draco knowing who Rowan was, I think our girl must have informed Parkinson and she would have told as many people as possible. Never underestimate the power of gossip!
As for her feelings towards the Malfoys, well they've certainly changed. Of course she doesn't know about Lucius or Draco, thank God, you can imagine how she would feel. But as I said before this is a dark fic and involuntary incest is just one part.
With Harry, your picking up right ideas, she needs to lure him into Voldemort/s clutches some how. But whether she really does want him will remain a secret, for now. ;) It is very ironic but I'm pleased it is in different ways, I'm liking Draconis too much to see anything that foul happen to her. Xxx
GothicMuse13: I like your name a lot! Thanks for starting to read the fic, I don't know when or if you'll see this message as you reviewed chapter 7 but thanks all the same :)
Cancerious: Yeay! I'm glad you saw that Lucy was the good guy, it will be very important later on ;) It is pretty disgusting but if you think about this kind of thing happens quite often :( Thanks for the good luck, I think I'm going to need it! I have 25 pages of Latin vocab to learn. :0
Serenia-dreamer of the woods: My most loyal reviewer! Thanks for the compliments, I've never written to you personally! As for Watchers of Lorien, well it seems what with my exams in may and June I'm going to be way too busy to do any fic writing. I'm hoping to finish this story, there is going to be a sequel, but maybe before I start that I will complete Watchers. It is about time I got back to Haldir and Mr. Bow-twanger!;)
totally_2bular_girl: Hey to you for the first time also! How long have you been reading my fic and not reviewing? ;) Yep it is EW but as I said before its dark and dirty and very unpleasant! Hope you're enjoying :)
Xxxxxxxxx Aurelia