The days in Malfoy Manor passed slowly.
Bellatrix, rather than attempting to continue to 'teach' Evanna to use the more questionable aspects of her abilities, had instead used the hairs they had taken from Lucius to make several public appearances. After making sure plenty of people saw 'Lucius', a big show was made of him traveling to the Continent to visit the Roman baths as a way to 'rejuvenate himself in the wake of the scandals surrounding his wife'. Had Evanna not been so worried about everything else, she might have laughed at the thought of Lucius rolling in his grave for such a rumor to have been put about.
The thought of Lucius made her neither sad, nor as guilty as she felt it should. The relief had worn off far quicker than Evanna would have liked and led to a gnawing pit in her stomach, questions that plagued her that refused to be answered. Lucius was unequivocally evil, but she had killed him. What kind of person became a killer at fourteen?
Her father had been sixteen.
She continued to practice flying with him, yes, but her father had been distant since she refused to train with Bellatrix and begged him to find a different way to win the war than following the prophecy. Her father had become obsessive with finding the prophecy and circumventing it and Evanna had the most awful feeling that innocent people would die from her father's dogged pursual of this prophecy that would not help anything. Doubts had begun to swim in the back of Evanna's mind that her father's version of Camelot was not what she wanted.
Her dreams had been strangely lacking in mysterious ancestors giving her cryptic warnings. Once upon a time, Evanna would have given anything to sleep without confusing messages from three women in white and an old bearded man who claimed to be Salazar Slytherin. But now? She wished for a word of guidance from them, now matter how cryptic, just to know that she had not crossed some line that she had not come back from. As it stood, she knew that Draco would never forgive her for her part in Lucius death and she dreaded to think what Narcissa and Professor Snape now thought of her. At least with Bellatrix Polyjuicing as Lucius, her friends would not necessarily know she was a killer.
Bridget, of course, would understand exactly what had happened. She may even already know, and though she would worry, Evanna knew the Hufflepuff would not abandon her. Luna was harder to predict, though Evanna did not think the Ravenclaw would be too harsh. It was the Gryffindors she was worried about. Ginny could have a range of reactions from high-fiving her for getting rid of him to yelling loud enough to bring the entire school running just in time to see her shipped off to Azkaban. And Harry-well, she imagined he wouldn't ever try and kiss her again. The Boy-Who-Lived would not want to be friends with a murderer, much less anything else.
It should have been a relief. Harry Potter was the symbol of everything that opposed her father. But Harry the boy was kind and strong and understood her in a way that no one else ever had. There had not been anyone else to coax her out of the Chamber of Secrets when she was sure that Lucius was ready to kill her. Perhaps, she thought, Harry might just understand this too. He knows how horrible family can be. Maybe he would try to kiss her again….
The thought sent a shiver down Evanna's spine. She knew that her father and Bellatrix were aware she and Harry were close-too close in their estimations. And they didn't even know about the almost-kiss or Evanna teaching Harry to fight or how her toes curled in her shoes at the thought of Harry trying to kiss her again…
If he knew about Lucius, it probably wouldn't happen again. And if he knew about her birth parents, he definitely would not try to kiss her again. Beyond that, if Evanna continued whatever this was with Harry, she would have to bring him to her father at some point. There would be no avoiding the choice between Harry and her father.
And Harry did not deserve the consequences of that choice.
On the last night of the winter break of Evanna Malfoy's fourth year of Hogwarts, in the quiet dark of the second-largest room of Malfoy Manor, she made a choice.
"I have to tell him," she said aloud into the night air.
No one answered her.
Harry POV
Harry dodged the curse, tucking into a roll as it whizzed past him. He had barely had a chance to stand when another was on it's way, then another and another.
"You cannot remain on the defensive forever, Potter," Professor Snape growled as he threw another curse Harry's way. "Fight. Back!"
The next curse Professor Snape sent, Harry shoved his wand forward. "Protego!"
It didn't matter. The curse barreled through Harry's hastily thrown shield and left a scorch mark along Harry's arm, causing him to cry out and drop his wand.
"You've got to be better, Potter, if you want to survive!" Snape sneered as he did a complicated little motion with his wand that had Harry sprawled on the floor. He groaned as his glasses skittered off to the side.
"If you cannot hold on to your wand you are dead," Professor Snape said, kicking the offending object over to Harry. "If you cannot see, you're dead," Harry winced as he heard a distinctive crunch. "If you cannot fire a damn curse back you're dead!"
It took several grabs for Harry to get the blurry line that was his wand back into his hand. When he did, he sent the blasting curse that Evanna had taught him in the Chamber of Secrets. He saw the fuzzy black blob that was Professor Snape thrown back into the wall and smiled as he heard the man grunt.
Harry managed to shove on his now cracked glasses as Professor Snape stood and brushed his robes off.
"That," the man growled. "Was dark magic."
Harry flushed but did not back down. "You broke my glasses."
The professor ignored his comment. "Where did you learn that?"
"What did you think Evanna was teaching me-the Jelly-Legs Hex?"
The name was like a curse all its own. No one had answered any of Harry's questions about what he had seen in his vision. He had started to question if it had even been a true vision-he hadn't seen any articles in the Prophet about Lucius Malfoy being killed or even going missing. As much as Draco liked to prattle on about how important his father was, Harry couldn't imagine it not being a headline.
"You would do well, Mr. Potter, to be careful in using the spells Ms. Malfoy has taught you," the Professor said in clipped tones.
"Did she really kill her dad?" Harry demanded, with his usual lack of restraint.
"What?"
"The papers haven't reported anything about Mr. Malfoy-and you're now training me to duel-so I started thinking that maybe it had just been a-"
"You should leave the thinking to Ms. Granger, Potter," Snape drawled.
"Oh," Harry deflated a little. "Is-is she okay?"
"It would be best, Potter, that you do not concern yourself with her," the professor said in a low voice. "You watched as Ms. Malfoy used an Unforgivable-"
"I don't care what I saw," Harry said. "I want to know if she is okay. You're supposed to be her Head of House-why haven't you got her out of there yet?"
"Potter, there are things happening beyond your understa-"
"Then make me understand! Tell me why the hell I saw Evanna killing Lucius on Volde-"
"Don't say his name!"
"-You-Know-Who's orders then! If I'm so bloody important in this war, then why won't anyone tell me anything?"
"You keep on using foul language, Potter, and you will be in so many detentions-"
"So you're not going to tell me anything about her, then, are you?" Harry snorted. "Why did I even try?"
"Potter-"
"How about this then-why doesn't Dumbledore want me learning how to fight? A Death Eater's daughter was more concerned about that than the bloody leader of the Order of the Pheonix!" Harry shouted.
Professor Snape shook his head. "Since when do you start asking questions, Potter?" he hissed.
"Since I saw a friend die in front of me and the girl I love kill her dad!"
Silence. Harry's heart was pounding as he glared at the Potions master, who's eyes could not have been wider if he was on one of the violent cartoons Dudley liked to watch as a child. It took Harry's brain a moment to catch up with his mouth.
Love?
Had he really just said that he loved Evanna? To Professor Snape of all people? The thought of that was utterly mortifying. But, it was not as concerning as the next thought:Had he really meant it?
The word flitted through Harry's mind like a Golden Snitch that remained just out of his reach. Evanna had saved his life twice during their time at Hogwarts, but plenty of people had helped protect him, the professor in front of him included-and he certainly did not love Snape. She was not exactly someone who could be described as "sweet" or "kind", but she cared about Harry, and that was a rare thing. She had cared not only to save his life at cost to herself, but also to train him to be able to save himself, questioning why no one had bothered to do so before. And there had been moments-moments where they had been vulnerable with each other. Evanna had heard him thinking about his muggle relatives, and had never judged him for it. He had not always shown her the same courtesy in not judging her for her family.
Then, there had been those moments in the Chamber of Secrets. When he had known exactly where she would be hiding after the Yule Ball. When their training sessions had allowed him to get close to her… Dangerously close. He had barely been able to think of anything else when he was in class and when he was with the DA he couldn't help but watch her, wait for her to say something to him. When he finally, finally was alone with her in the Room of Requirement, trying to show her what he had been feeling…
Harry did not have any previous experience to determine whether or not he was feeling love. But, he supposed, what else would love be than that intense feeling in his gut when he wasn't with her that both eased and intensified when he got to be with her.
"Never say such nonsense again, Potter," the professor snarled.
"You-"
"Such idiotic, Gryffindor-ish drivel will only get the both of you killed and I will not allow it," Professor Snape snarled. "Now, Potter, you are going to bury this so deep in the recesses of your cobwebbed brain that I will never be able see it again. Understand?"
Harry clenched his jaw, knowing better than to try and reason with Snape when he was like this. He was expecting it when the professor pointed his wand at Harry and hissed "Legilimens!" But he could not put the thought away.
He was in love with Evanna Malfoy.