Author's note: Again, short. I know, I need to shape up, but Lucius is hard to write as, and this is really just for insight into his head and to see how the lovely little Danica is doing.
You were a fool, my son. You actually thought Pansy knew where your daughter was, didn't you?
Of course, that Granger girl would know better. She was, after all, smart, wasn't she? She would know I wouldn't be daft enough to tell that stupid Parkinson girl where I hid Danica.
Honestly, how could you be so daft?
That girl sits across from me, so ignorant to what I am going to do to her. True, she is too young to understand. I will admit that. Were she older, I would think her stupid, but I will take her age into consideration.
She does look a Malfoy. I cannot deny that. But why did she have to be the child of that mudblood? Why did my son have to curse me with a half-blood grandchild? Why did he have to become so stupid?
"Mummy."
I glance at the girl, raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Want Mummy."
My lip curls. Stupid child. "Your mother isn't here right now."
"Where?"
"Far away. Now be quiet."
Her lips quivers. Gods, if she cries...no, I won't kill her now. I have plans and killing her right now would ruin them.
"Want Mummy. Want Daddy."
"They aren't here," I tell her. "They won't be here."
"Why?"
"Because they aren't."
"Why?"
"Must you ask a thousand questions, you bothersome child?"
That damn lips quiver again. "Want Mummy. Want Daddy."
I turn to look the other way. "You fool of a boy. My idiot son, I should have drowned you at birth."
"Daddy say he has no Daddy."
"Is that so?" I wave a hand. Of course she doesn't realize that means I don't care.
"Daddy say he died. What that mean?"
I glance at her. "That means...oh, bloody hell. It means he is gone and never coming back."
"Why?"
"Because he just is. I mean...damn." I knock the glass off of the table I am sitting at. It smashes to the floor, shattering into tiny shards. "Your father lied."
"What lie?"
"It means he told you something that wasn't true. He's not dead."
"Not?"
"No."
"Where?"
This girl is really beginning to get on my nerves. She asks far too many questions. "I am his father."
She scrunches up her face, her eyes narrowing, and shakes her head. "No."
"Yes, little girl. I am."
"Lie."
"Why on earth would I lie to you?"
"Mean."
At least she knew that. "True, however I am not lying."
"No. Lie. Mean."
"Just stop talking."
"No. Lie. Mean."
"I said be quiet!"
I stand up, kneel down near her and seeze her shoulders. "Keep quiet!"
"Want Mummy! Want Daddy!"
"Shut up!"
"Mummy!"
I pull back my hand and slap her across the face. She lets out a muffled cry and falls to the floor, and then the child starts bauling. Loud and hard.
I raise my hand to slap her once more.
"Do not lay another hand on her, Lucius. We need her."
I turn to the doorway, to the voice. "Yes, My Lord. I understand."
