I do not own any characters but Alexis. Harry Potter does not belong to me. Darn.
"Daddy?" A young girl with long, dark hair entered the room shyly.
"Yesssss, Alexisss?" her father rasped.
Used to his snakelike voice, she didn't flinch like most people did. Instead she asked, "Where's Aunt Bellatrix? She braids my hair every night."
"She's busy. Where are your caretakers? You should be in bed by now. It'sss late."
"Oh, they were nagging too much so I Stupefied them," she answered lightly.
Alexis's father nodded, as if this happened every night.
"Well, wake the Malfoys up. Draco startsss school tomorrow. It'ssss his lasst year, you know."
"Yes, father," replied Alexis, "I know. Good night."
"Good night."
Her father tried to smile, but it turned out as a strained grimace. Alexis didn't mind, however. It's the thought that counts. She walked to her room with her hair floating behind her like a veil. But since her home was basically a dark underground cave, she had nobody to admire her unusual elegance.
"Lumos," Alexis whispered, and a light appeared at the tip of her wand.
As she neared the entrance of her bedroom, she revived the Malfoy family and gave them each a hug goodnight. Alexis smiled, thinking about how her father tried so hard to give her the best he could give. Daddy loves me so much, she thought. He would do anything to make sure I'm happy and safe. Even if he gets hurt trying to protect me. The fourteen-year-old girl climbed into bed and listened for her nighttime guard to arrive at her doorway.
"Uncle Snape, can I have a glass of water?"
Daddy really would do anything for me. Alexis continued her train of thought. She sat on her bed, waiting for the water to arrive. After all, I am one of his Horcruxes.
It has been exactly 5 years since Dumbledore died, and 2 since Harry died, thought Ron. The redhead sat on a large rock by Harry's tombstone, thinking over his late best friend's death. A light breeze ruffled his messy hair. It was a warm, sunny day, and birds were singing happily in the trees. Isn't it ironic? On the anniversary of my best friend's death, the whole world is happy but me. Just like in 6th year.
Hermione walked over to Ron and sat down next to him. "Remember how pleased Harry was when we told him we located the last Horcrux?" asked Ron.
"And how horrified he was when he found out it was You-Know-Who's kid? Who happens to be a perfectly innocent little girl?" retorted Hermione, angry for no apparent reason.
Without warning, she burst into tears, and her boyfriend led her away quietly.
Harry stared at the bleeding girl sprawled on the floor. She begged for him to spare her, but he knew killing her was the only way to make Voldemort vulnerable. Suddenly, a lead bullet from a muggle device struck him. The Dark Lord stood, commenting how he had underestimated muggles and their uses. Moody got the girl eventually and the Order killed Voldemort too. Still though, they had just murdered a girl who had never done anything wrong, who was just born to the wrong family.
Ronald Weasley looked at Harry's grave again, and sighed deeply. Of all the things You-Know-Who could have chosen to be the last Horcrux, he chose his daughter. Sighing once again, he took Hermione to visit Alexis Riddle's grave.