Going Home

"The heart has its reasons that reason knows nothing of." (Blaise Pascal)

September, which had started sunny and warm, was ending in fog and rain. When Eleanor peered into her garden through the weeping windows of her living room she could spot the first leaves turning pale yellow.

Lavinia missed the care-free summer days she had spent playing with her mother and with Libby in the small sandbox next to the patio. Her questions about her father and her demands to go home became more infrequent, but some spark of joy and liveliness seemed to have been extinguished in her. She spent a lot of time sleeping and moping and her mood changed abruptly from temper-tantrums to periods of lethargy.

Eleanor still hadn't made up her mind about the future of her family. She found herself in some strange limbo of paralyzed inactivity. She delayed her visit to Malfoy Manor to collect her things, dreading the finality of the gesture and fearing to encounter the emptiness of the huge house without Lucius.

Severus Snape had visited twice, but was busy now that the new school year had started. Lavinia had been overjoyed to see him, and he had taken his time to play with her and cheer her up, but in private he had used harsh words with regards to Lucius and his choices, and Eleanor found it difficult not to lose her temper with him. As before he had suggested that she return to Durmstrang, but again that would mean making a decision, and she simply did not have the energy.

The only thing that had roused her somewhat had been the aftermath of the "muggle scandal" as the Daily Prophet had termed it. Eleanor had done all she could to help Marigold who had received recommendations from several Unspeakables and fromthe Department of Magical Law Enforcement and had got a promotion. She had also appeared twice before the wizengamot as an important witness for the prosecution.

The case had revealed that Miss Langley had been Percy Weasley's lover and had purchased the dagger for him and tried to serve as an instrumental eye-witness in implicating Mr. Malfoy. Professor Sedgewick, though invited with many apologies by Arthur Weasly, had summarily declined to attend any hearings or to ever have anything else to do with wizards or with magic.

Eventually Percy Weasley had been sentenced to twenty years in Azkaban prison, a very mild sentence that had been chosen out of deference to Arthur and Molly Weasley, who had made a passionate plea on behalf of their son. He still refused to see or talk to his parents, however. Miss Langley had got three years for her role as an accomplice. Eleanor thought she recognized Albus Dumbledore's handwriting in the moderation of the verdict.

She interrupted her musings as she lightly got up from the chair that stood by the side of Lavinia's bed, cast one last glance at the sleeping form of her little daughter and softly tip-toed out of the room. She gently closed the door behind her and with practiced steps avoided a particularly creaky floorboard on the landing before making her way downstairs.

Even though it was just past noon, and Lavinia was merely taking a lunchtime nap, the gloomy weather made the interior of the house look as if it were already early evening. Eleanor sighed as she turned towards the kitchen. The weather seemed a perfect mirror of her mood. She would clear away the dishes from their simple meal and then spend some time in the living-room with a book on obscure charms that Severus had left her during his last visit, until it was time to wake her daughter. As she began stacking the plates and bowls Libby came running into the room.

"Mistress mustn't," she protested appalled. "This is elf work!"

The witch picked up the crockery and set it down in the sink.

"Libby, I have something else for you to do," she said, unwilling to get into an argument with the house-elf. "I don't feel like going out today, so I want you to take care of the shopping."

Libby hopped onto the kitchen table, nodding eagerly.

"Yes, what is Mistress needing?"

Eleanor pulled a folded up slip of paper and a small purse from a pocket of her robes and held it out.

"Just some milk, bread, eggs, some butter, and a few other oddments. It's all on here. Take your time, and get yourself a little treat, too."

The house-elf eagerly scanned the shopping list and did a little skip.

"Libby will be back, soon!"

She snapped her large, bony fingers and disapparated.

Eleanor ran some water in the sink, added some soap and then gave her dish brush a brief tap with her wand to set it to scrubbing. Just as she was wiping her hands on a tea towel she heard the shrill ring of the doorbell cut through the quiet of the house. Angrily she slammed her wand down by the side of the sink and walked back into the hallway. The damn racket would wake Lavinia, and she had spent half an hour to get her to sleep just then.

As she looked through the marbled glass in her front door she could distinguish a tall, grey-clad shape waiting outside at the top of the steps. She frowned. Certainly she wasn't expecting anyone. In fact, with the exception of the Hogwarts potions master no one had visited her since the conclusion of the trial.

With an unfriendly rebuke forming on her lips she yanked open the door and recoiled in stunned surprise.

In front of her stood none other than Lucius Malfoy. She merely opened and closed her mouth and stared at him. He was the one person she had not expected to see at her old house ever again.

The only thing more startling even than his sudden appearance was his attire. Her proud wizarding husband was wearing a pair of black corduroy pants, black shoes and a grey knee-long wool coat. While there was nothing overtly remarkable about the clothes, she recognized every single piece as a muggle garment she had bought for him during his brief exile over three years ago. Why he was wearing the stuff was beyond her, as was the fact that he had obviously left his cane with his wand behind and instead allowed the light drizzle to soak him. He had tied up his long blond hair at the back, but a few strands had come lose and now hung limply into his face with small droplets of rain collecting at their tips.

They looked at each other wordlessly, neither apparently willing to make the first move. The gaze of his grey eyes was steady, but unreadable. She noticed the glint of rain-water trapped in his lashes. Every detail of his presence seared herself into her perception, but Eleanor found herself unable to speak as she regarded him. And so they faced each other across the abyss of her door-mat for what seemed like a small eternity.

A gust of wind suddenly splashed her with rain, and she finally shook herself and broke the spell.

"Merlin, you're drenched, Lucius!" she said simply. "Come in."

He took a tentative step forward into the protection of the house, but stopped again.

"What is it?" she asked, starting to feel anxious. He seemed in a mood unlike any she had ever seen.

He slowly blinked as if he needed to collect himself.

"I want you back," he said simply. And for a moment she heard the ghost of his usual arrogance in his gravelly voice. Exasperated and uncomprehending she shook her head.

"Well, you can't always have what you want," she snapped at him. "We've been over this! Why do you have to come here? Do you think it's easy for me to see you like this? Why are you doing this to us? Why are you doing this to me!"

He lowered his eyes.

"No," he said softly. "I need you back. – Both of you, you and her." He hesitated as if it cost him an enormous effort to say the name. "Lavinia. I need you both back. I need us to be a family again. I can't do this any more. I don't care what she is: squib, muggle, witch. It's all my fault anyway. I made her who she is."

His voice dropped until it had lowered to a whisper. She barely caught his last few words.

"Lucius," she said, stretching out her hand without a second thought and touching his arm. "It's no one's fault..." She interrupted herself. "It's not a fault to begin with," she corrected herself.

"You don't understand," he answered her fiercely. "I – my mother's sister, my father, - we…" he broke off, struggling with the shame of the terrible secret he was about to confess.

She smiled, stepping closer. "I know, Lucius," she said gently. "Maleficia told me. I know everything."

He looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes, and suddenly she understood the meaning of his strange appearance. He had undertaken this journey to her as a penance, as an exercise in humiliation. He had divested himself of everything that made him a wizard and set him aside from the muggles he hated, his elegant robes, the simple spell that would have kept the rain water off him, his gloves that he wore as a barrier between himself and the low-born scum around him, even his cane that held his wand. He had been prepared to finally confront everything he professed to detest above all else.

Loathing was a powerful emotion, thought Eleanor. We loathe what we secretly know ourselves to be, what we recognize as our own innermost shadow.

"Look at me, Lucius," she told him softly. "Do you think it makes the slightest bit of a difference to me? Do you believe I think any less of you? Do you think I love you less, knowing what I know?"

She felt the long muscles in his arms tighten as he clenched his hands into fists. For a moment he hesitated, then he lifted his eyes to hers. His gaze was steady.

"I should have known," he said simply. He took a deep breath. "Then you will come back? Both of you?" he asked. "After – after what I did?"

Eleanor regarded the bedraggled wizard standing before her, who looked strangely on edge now, as if he truly seemed unsure about her answer, and the full impact of what he was asking her suddenly hit her. He would never say he was sorry, would never apologize, but she saw in his hesitation that he did not expect to be simply forgiven. She felt herself choking up.

"Of course we will," she sobbed, flinging herself forward and finally bridging the last of the distance between them.

His arms closed about her, but at that very moment a small shrill voice behind her shouted "DADDY!"

She twisted around, and the next moment her heart stopped: through the gloom of the hallway she saw Lavinia stand at the top of the stairs. With her pale hair and her small white night-gown she seemed to possess an inner luminescence. The door-bell must have wakened her, and she had come to investigate the noise. Now she had recognized her father and rushed forwards to get to him.

"Lavinia, careful! NO!"

Eleanor gasped in shock as she saw her daughter lose her footing on the steep stairs and fall forward as she ran. Lucius had come without his wand, and her own lay uselessly by the sink in the kitchen. They could do nothing. Her husband pushed her out of the way and hurled himself forwards in a futile attempt to catch the falling girl, but it was already too late and the witch screamed as she could almost hear the sickening crack of the small body of her child impacting with unyielding wood.

Time seemed to stand still as the white-clad figure hovered in mid-air, suspended in the arc of her fall.

Eleanor blinked: time did stand still!

Lucius had actually managed to reach Lavinia, and his hands had closed around her as he pulled her towards him. She had never hit the ground. The wizard turned back to her.

"Did you…?" he asked her white-faced as he held his daughter in his arms.

Eleanor approached in a daze. "No. No, did you…?"

He shook his head, and they both looked at the little girl who had buried her face in her father's wet hair and was sobbing and hugging him fiercely. Lucius stroked her to get her attention.

"Lavinia," he called her softly. "Lavinia, look at me. Daddy has to ask you something. It's very important."

Eventually the little girl stirred, sniffed and lifted her tear-streaked face to look at him.

"Lavinia, what did you just do?" her father asked her. "What just happened?"

She rubbed a hand across her nose.

"Lala fly," she announced matter-of-factly. "Just like Draco. Just like Uncle Sev's bubbles."

Lucius stared at her. "You flew?" He turned to his wife. "But that's impossible," he said.

"Is not!" answered Lavinia with a pout, and a moment later she had simply wriggled out of her father's arms and was slowly but clearly rising towards the ceiling.

A parent's instinct taking over the wizard quickly grabbed her nightshirt and pulled her back.

"Hey, careful!" he cried, and then thought better of it, shrugged and let her go again. "I'll be damned," he exclaimed and looked up to watch her as she floated above him.

Suddenly he started to laugh, softly, as if to himself at first, then louder, until he finally held his sides, his head thrown back.

"She's a witch!" he hollered, wiping his eyes. "By Azrael, she's a bloody witch!"

He suddenly grabbed his protesting wife for a rather graceless, impromptu jig in the middle of their hallway while Lavinia looked down at them, joining in her father's laugher with an infectious giggle of her own. She stretched out her arms.

"Lala fly!" she crowed.

"Merlin, yes!" shouted Lucius, still laughing. "Lala fly!"

It took them all a while to calm down. Finally Lucius held his daughter in his arms again and faced his wife in the dusky, chilly hallway. Eleanor had to admit that they had probably made for an unlikely sight: a bedraggled looking man with long blond hair in rain-soaked muggle clothes madly dancing in a circle with a witch in rather rumpled house robes and a little girl in a white night dress floating a good two feet above their heads – all of them crying and laughing at the top of their lungs. It would have scandalized any passing muggles to no end. She shook her head, grinning as broadly as everyone else.

A gust of wind swept in from the open front door and made her look down the hallway. When she turned back towards her husband, he had settled Lavinia in the crook of his left arm and now laid his right arm around her and drew her to him.

"Shouldn't we all go home now?" he asked her gently.

She smiled at him, returning the embrace and moving against him.

"We already are, Lucius," she answered him. "We already are."

Well, Lucius and Eleanor returned to Malfoy Manor with their daughter and Libby the house elf, where they lived happily ever after (Libby less so, of course, as being Mr. Malfoy's house elf remained overall a rather hazardous and thankless job).

Over the following years the Malfoys ended up havinganother girl and a boy, and Lucius turned into a complete basket case around each of their second birthdays. Both developed into very capable little witches and wizards, however. Lavinia eventually attended Hogwarts where the sorting hat put her in Slytherin, much to the satisfaction of her father. She made seeker on the Slytherin house team, and since then the house-cup has been firmly in the grip of the Serpents.

Maleficia was never re-employed by the Malfoy family, but continues to correspond with Draco on occasion. Despite his father's misgivings Draco eventually got engaged to Melanie Pucey. Sobered by his own experiences Lucius managed to finally get over himself and actually treated his future daughter-in-law with some decency.

In defiance of Minister Weasely's fondest hopes the Lord of Malfoy Manor still meddles in ministry affairs, and recently managed to stop some legislation for the protection of house elves proposed by Weasley senior at the request of his daughter-in-law, the president of SPEW.

Cornelius Fudge was never re-elected as Minister of Magic. Lucius obligingly helped him to drown his sorrows in his inexhaustible supplies of Scotch, until Mrs. Fudge finally became so fed up that she had her husband committed to St. Mungo's for a withdrawal treatment.

Lucius' law-suit against his ex-wife took an unexpected turn when Narcissa used her feminine wiles to ensnare the unsuspecting Mr. Tethering, who in a state of the deepest infatuation ended up defending her successfully. The advocatus lost his promised fee of 100.000 galleons and the customs of his rather irate client who put several illegal hexes on him, but gained a ratherelegant town home in London and the companionship of one of the most talked-about literary figures of the day. Narcissa is currently working on a biography of her sister Bellatrix under the working title: My Sister, the Death Eater.

Severus Snape finally gave up waiting around for the impossible, quit his job as potions master at Hogwarts and instead accepted the vacant position as DADA teacher at Durmstrang. He still visits his goddaughter whenever he can and seems much more relaxed and friendly these days, particularly as he has finally found himself in a romantic attachment to Isadora Akers, the Durmstrang astronomy teacher. It has done wonders for his mood. He even wears grey and maroon now on occasion!

Professor Sedgewick did get to write is book about magic and wizards after all. However, it was called Monsters in our Midst and its lurid paranoia effectively cost him any academic credibility he might have had before. He did gain a considerable following among severalextremist muggle fringe groups, who fully endorsed his proposal to re-instate the inquisition and legalize witch-burnings.

Eleanor continues to work as a consultant to the corps of aurors where Marigold Brannock progressed on a stellar career and eventually became an Unspeakable. She never returned to Durmstrang, but is widely acclaimed as the inventor of the Sartorius Feint and a collection of other highly effective spells and wards.

- The End -

As before I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to read and review my latest story. Your comments have been much appreciated, and I hope you've enjoyed the ride.

When I started "Riddle", Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince had not yet been published. With the new developments in the Potterverse I would have had to rewrite most of my story (as a matter of fact there would have been no story, as we now know that poor Lucius continues his imprisonment in Azkaban and is still married to Narcissa, who seems to be rather more loyal and loving towards him than I have ever depicted her. Sorry, Cissy!).

I therefore decided to continue with the original premise of my tale, even though that showed Dumbledore alive and well, and Severus Snape continuing as potions master at Hogwarts – two very unlikely developments...

"Riddle" will bring my four Sartorius stories to a close, and if I write about Lucius again, at will be in a different setting and with other characters.

For now I wish everyone the very best. I hope we meet again over another story.

"Free Lucius Malfoy!"

"Trust Severus Snape!"