Drucy finally found out why people had been avoiding her.

Roenna caught her on her way to breakfast to present the gift that Daniel had helped her make. It was a bit of driftwood from the lake, carved to look like a snake, coiled and comfortable. It was obviously the work of an amateur, but Drucy could see that her friend had a gift for observation and form. "That's really good, Roenna. You've learned quickly," she praised. "Let me put this right in my room, so that it'll be safe." She set it next to her Butterfly Maker. The one she'd been given to test was long dead. Her mother had bought her this one during the Christmas holidays.

"Too bad it's a skill that doesn't see much use in the wizarding world," Roenna grumbled, as they settled down at the breakfast table.

Esme chose to sit with them this morning. "Oh, don't say that, Roenna. Not everything in the wizarding world is conjured. Wands, for instance. If you want to give something magical properties, you can't make it out of magic to begin with."

That obviously gave Roenna something to think about, but she soon pushed her thoughts aside. "So, Drucy, aren't you going to go get some of that Gryffindor bacon?" she teased lightly.

But Drucy had decided to stay put. "Not until I've got a clue why everyone is acting strangely around me. I like visiting my friend, but I don't like upsetting all those other kids. It's also so much harder to do anything when everyone is kind of staring quietly at you the whole time."

"Can't argue with that," Roenna acknowledged. Her tone turned back to a gentle teasing. "We'll make sure you have plenty of Slytherin bacon for the day ahead."

"And don't worry about The Great Harry Potter," Esme reminded her. "Everything's going to be fine."

Indeed, everything was actually fine. Drucy did not expect to have a good day, but she found little unexpected bits of kindness everywhere. Being that her snake was approved and her secret with her wand was out, she was able to see Jade making a bracelet around her wrist when she felt stressed or bored, and her wand behaved better than it had during the entire first half of the year. Her remedial Charms work progressed well. The dreaded Harry Potter also seemed pleasant enough to everyone, and gave Drucy five points for Slytherin when she answered a question well. The other students seemed to avoid her, but she found her fellow Slytherins starting to fill in the gaps. A boy who had previously ignored her sat in the empty space next to her in Transfiguration. "Doesn't matter if you're richer than the rest of us, or if you act more like a Hufflepuff than a dungeon-dweller," he mumbled, when she looked surprised. "Slytherins ought to look after each other, when other Houses decide to give us trouble."

After the last class, Roenna caught up with her as they headed from the warmth and humidity of the Herbology gardens to the dry winter warmth of the castle. The air was frigid, and the clouds heaped heavily with the threat of oncoming snow. "Drucy, hang on a bit, don't go in yet. I found out what was going on, and I think you'll want to hear this out here with me, in private."

The two girls made their way across the courtyard and stationed themselves behind a stone pillar, sheltering from the wind. "You were with me all day," Drucy said, impressed. "How'd you find out?"

"Well, Daniel found out. But he didn't want to tell you." Roenna correctly interpreted Drucy's expression. "It's nothing stupid like that, he isn't afraid of you or anything. But the whole thing is a bit over his head, and he feels kind of bad about it. I told him that I'd catch you and explain it to you."

"Okay," Drucy responded cautiously. "Tell me what's up."

Roenna offered a wry smile. "The word going 'round is that you're the granddaughter of Lord Voldemort."

"What? How?" Drucy did not expect this. "That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. And why me?"

"Well," Roenna offered, speaking slowly and in her most reasonable voice, "it isn't the strangest leap someone could make, you have to admit. You are a Parselmouth, and that's pretty rare. But it isn't just that. The way your father was kept pretty much secret all this time… the claim they're making is that his real father was Voldemort, not Rodolphus Lestrange."

Drucy sat for a moment and tried to process this. "They think Dad's father was Voldemort? Have they met my dad?" She sat there for a moment longer before more words came. "And why isn't he a Parselmouth, then, if he's Voldemort's kid?"

Roenna shrugged. "What if he isn't? What if it skipped a generation? It's a weird theory, but it's not impossible, I guess."

"Do you think it's true?" Drucy asked her friend directly, horrified.

Roenna shrugged again. "To be honest, I don't know. But it doesn't matter. Drucy, you are what you are. You're kind-hearted and friendly. You've got a lot of restraint, and you put up with a lot of stuff I wouldn't. You're also a Parselmouth, and you've got probably one of the most dangerous wands in history. If you're Voldemort's granddaughter, too, that doesn't make any difference to me. You know what, now that you know, forget about it. It's a fad. Kids will get bored with it, when nobody winds up mysteriously cursed or dead, and they'll turn their attention to something else. Some idiot will do something on the Quidditch field, and that'll hold them at least until spring break."

Esme had similar advice for Drucy that evening, at the supper table. In fact, upon hearing the story, she turned it into a table-sized affair, much to Drucy's embarrassment. "Guess what!" she declared openly. "Looks like I'm Voldemort's granddaughter again, and so is Drucy…" This was met with a few groans and a couple of scattered chuckles from their fellow Slytherins. "So you'd better watch out!" Esme continued, as Drucy dearly wanted to hide under the table. "Or I'll curse you with the scariest fate of all… common sense!" She turned back to her sister. "There, that's over with. Don't worry about it, kid. They're jerks, and it'll pass. C'mon. If they really, honestly thought it was true, do you think they'd go to all these theatrics about it?"

"What if it's true?" Drucy quavered, remembering Roenna's words.

Esme shrugged. "It isn't," she said. "Nobody's lying to you about this, Drucy. Whatever some idiots want to think, or need to believe, it just plain isn't true. Dad's mom was Bellatrix Lestrange, and his dad was Rodolphus Lestrange. You already know you're named after your great-grandma Druella… well, sort of, Mom thought maybe it was too old-fashioned, that's why it's 'Drucilla' instead… we're all connected up with the Blacks and the Malfoys. You're just another Pure-Blood."

Still, Drucy was troubled. The other kids' behavior no longer bothered her. Instead, she found herself speculating darkly on her own heritage. Esme was so sure that it had nothing to do with The Dreaded Voldemort. But Roenna made a lot of really good points. Plus, why would Virgo Lestrange have spent so much time locked away from other society? Why would Mom have pushed so hard to make absolutely sure that their children didn't show any hatred for Muggleborns?

And why am I a Parselmouth?

The next morning, Drucy realized that she didn't want to face everyone else in the Great Hall. "Topsy," she whimpered, as she finished putting on the robes that the little old house elf had laid out for her neatly the night before. As always, the faithful servant appeared immediately. "Topsy… can you bring me a breakfast from the kitchens? Are you allowed to do that?"

"Of course, Mistress!" Topsy squeaked, looking pleased. She vanished, and reappeared barely a minute later with a laden plate. "Topsy hears the house elves at Hogwarts, they know my mistress likes the bacon. So here is your bacon, and here is the rest of your breakfast. Is Mistress feeling ill? Staying and resting in the room today?"

"No, Topsy, I'm alright," Drucy reassured her. "I just don't want to deal with the others this morning." She fell silent for a moment, looking at the little creature. Topsy had been in the Bulstrode house for ages. She was quite old. And yet, she never ran away, and she never seemed to fear her masters. "Topsy, if I was… if my family were horrible people, really horrible, more horrible than everyone says… would you be afraid of me?"

"Oh, of course not, Mistress!" Topsy answered easily. "Many house elves serve many people, and wizards say that some of them are evil, and some of them are good, but what really matters is how we are treated," she added earnestly. "Some of these wizards, other people call them bad! But they are so good to their servants, so thoughtful and kind. And some wizards called good, they forget that house elves are real, that we grow old and become tired. My mistress is a kind person, and so careful, to ask if a package is too heavy or if a command will cause trouble for me. No, never afraid, never at all!"

That buoyed Drucy's spirits, and she did eat her bacon before setting out. Her friends didn't say anything about her absence at breakfast, but Daniel did quietly ask her if she was feeling sick as they headed off to class. When she let him know that she ate breakfast in her room, he didn't ask further. Drucy found herself badly distracted during most of the day. This didn't mean much in her other classes, but she reduced three different tankards to dust in Transfigurations, and Professor Krum held her back after class to speak to her. "Your control is slipping," he told her. "Vot is wrong today?"

She didn't want to say a word about it, but she found herself speaking anyway. "Professor… you went to school with my father. Did he say… when did he ever… did he ever talk about… his parents? Who they were?"

Krum shook his head a little. "Your father's parents vere Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. It is not so strange that he did not like to talk about them." He frowned a little. "Little girl, there are alvays stories in the castle. They come, they go, they go avay. Don't fret over them. Alright?" He smiled encouragingly, and she did her best to return the smile before heading to her last class, which was Defense Against Dark Arts.

Drucy peeked into the classroom before entering, and saw that Susan Bones had apparently not yet returned from her extended vacation. Harry Potter stood at the head of the class, looking over a couple of papers, apparently readying himself for his next lecture. Suddenly, Drucy had a scary idea in her head. She rejected it at first, but it came back. Harry Potter. He knew Voldemort like nobody ever had. He had part of Voldemort in his head for a while! He would know. Wouldn't he? Everyone else was only guessing, weren't they? Who was she to talk to someone like him? What would her mom think? What would her mom say?

But what was the alternative? Wait for this to peter out? Go for years, maybe the rest of her life, just not knowing why she was the way she was? This thing bothered her. It made her skin crawl. It made her feel as if she was not even quite alone in her own head. She had to figure something out.

"Class…" she heard Mr. Potter say, and she hurried inside to take her seat. Roenna sat on one side of her, and that Slytherin boy sat on the other, so she was not left alone. She resolved to do it, to wait once class let out and have her own personal talk with The Potter.

Just as quickly, she changed her mind and decided that she would never say a word to him, ever again. And then she could do her homework in her room, and take dinner in her room, Topsy would bring it to her, and then, the next day…

She changed her mind again. She would talk to The Potter.

Then, she changed her mind again. She wouldn't, couldn't do it.