Disclaimer: I do not own anything of J.K. Rowling's. :D

Chapter Seventeen: Bound, Trapped….Tied

I remember locking my door and refusing to answer, even as my mother pounded away. It wasn't until a few hours later that I heard the front door open once more, my mother had grown tired of trying to arouse me from my bedroom and was off in the kitchen, presumably fixing dinner. This most certainly was not how I imagined my first evening home from school.

The walls were thin enough for me to hear some of mother and father's conversation. It sounded as though father had been informed of what had happened before. Though I could not hear much, I could sense from their tones that it was not a particularly cordial atmosphere.

Footsteps came toward my door as I was still throwing clothes from my trunk, that lay open on my bed.

"Lana?" My father's voice asked, softly through the door as he knocked gently.

I let out a deep sigh before answering," Yes?"

He hesitated before asking," Dear, will you please let me in?"

I looked down at the blouse in my hand before pulling open my wardrobe and shoving it carelessly inside. My father was not the one with whom I was angered and found that it was only fair that I allowed him in. Quickly, I placed myself behind the door, unlocking it before pulling it open to see his figure leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed.

He nodded toward my room before raising his brow," May I?"

I nodded my approval without any words as he came into my room, pacing about for a moment before placing himself on top of my bed. After he was in, I shut the door, clearly alienating my mother even further from our conversation.

"Lana-" Father started, but before he could even utter a full sentence, I was ready to speak.

"Father, tell me why there was a man in my home when I first got here. Why were you and mom not at the station to pick me up? Why did Mrs. Flockton yell at mother? Why does mother have a 'debt' to the Dark Lord?" I spluttered out so many questions that my immature mind could hardly process any of what was saying. The overload was simply too much and all I could do next was break down to tears.

Out of habit, I rushed to my father's open arms and cried into his shoulder for a support that I knew would not last for long. It felt good to release all of my emotions and have him patting my back, assuring me that it was going to be okay, but several minutes later, he calmed me down enough to set me down on his lap, just like when I was a little girl. He looked at me and wiped away another stray tear or two before continuing on to what he had to say.

"Lana, I know that all of this is a little overwhelming, but please listen to me, okay?" He asked, softly, rubbing my back softly. "Your mother and I have been…discussing several different options since you have been gone away at school. This is a difficult time for mom right now…her mother, your grandma, left her with a rather thorny situation to sift through."

I remember looking into his eyes, staring directly at him as if searching for answers in his eyes. He merely kept his hand on my back, patting sympathetically. Eventually, I ripped my eyes away from his and sniffled once.

"Why don't you tell me more father?" I finally asked as he lifted me from his lap and back onto the ground.

As he stood up slowly, he kept an eye on me before looking to the ceiling, exhaling slowly and saying," Darling, if I had the liberty to, then I most certainly would."

"Why-" I had barely gotten the question out before he shook his head at me and gave me a final statement.

"Lana, please. I will tell you when I am allowed to," He said sternly, more sternly than he ever had before. He paused for a long while, as if partially regretting what he had said and waiting for the air to clear. "Now, I am dearly sorry for missing your arrival. Dinner will be ready soon."

However, I was not concerned about dinner. Nor was I concerned about my father being "allowed to tell me". I was concerned about learning what was wrong with my family and why strange, eccentric things were happening.

I never realized how quickly my comfortable life at home could change in a mere matter of days. Dinners at our home were silent with the exception of when I would pipe in something about school or Benjamin. However, it seemed as though when I mentioned Benjamin, my mother tensed up all of a sudden in one way or another. She had even gone so far to ask me not to mention "those people". Needless to say that I would not be seeing Benjamin for quite a long time. Father would try to carry on the conversation, but even he could only support it for so long.

The awkward dinners were not what worried me most, though. The nights were what made me nervous.

"Mary, you're playing with fire," My father grumbled, as I listened through the thin walls with my ear pressed against the wall.

"What do you mean?" She spat back icily at him. "You're acting as though I. Have. A. Choice."

"You do have a choice now," He growled at her. "Do not partake in these ceremonies. Do not risk it. If you should succeed-"

"That's the whole point, Richard!" She yelled back at him. "The whole goal of the mission is to return him to his human form. Don't you realize that this is what I must do?"

Slowly, and ever so slowly, I was beginning to piece together the pieces. I remembered hearing words such as "Potter" and "Peter", a long with quite a bit about a rat. Prior knowledge had told me that the Dark Lord attempted killing Harry Potter, but only succeeded in murdering his parents. Since then, it was rumored that the Dark Lord simply disappeared never to be seen again. I had never cared much about Potter's story before, but I was realizing that he may be a piece to the puzzle as to why my mother was acting so strangely.

It was at this point in the conversation, many a night, that father would silence her and I would hear their light shut off and run silently to my bed before their door slid open and one of them came down the hall to check on me.

One evening in particular, there was even more mention of this Peter and rats. I was up, eavesdropping as usual, but it was at this moment that I heard a furious rapping at the front door. Immediately, I heard both of my parents footsteps rush from their bedroom, past my door and to the living area.

I took this as my opportune moment. I was sick and tired of being left out of the loop on what was happening and I wanted my parents to see me once and for all. Smoothing out my night dress, I grabbed the door knob and turned it before pulling open the door and creeping down the hallway.

I walked until I was at the edge of the hall, leaning against the frame.

"Ah, Peter, how nice of you to see us once again…only I see that you've graced us with your human, non-rodent form," My father said snidely, crossing his arms over one another, looking at the man standing in the doorframe.

The man I saw in the moonlight was a shaggy, tattered-looking man with hair that was simply unbearably stringy and an odor that I could smell from where I stood. Though I could not see a very accurate description of the man, I could feel his eyes lock on me as my father awaited an answer from him.

This man seemed to be not interested in either of my parents, but me.

Biting down on his lip, he let himself into our house and slowly strolled in, appearing very…rat-like. Mother and father were still oblivious to my whereabouts, but not for long because this man soon made a direct reference to my eavesdropping.

"And who might this be? Offspring?" He said, the pitch of his voice very high (for a man) and uneven.

Father couldn't have spun around more quickly and though it was dark, I could tell that he was livid.

"Lana-" He started, but my mother was the one to step in. Though her eyes were cold as she bore into me, she said in a monotone voice.

"Let her stay."

He looked at her as though she were mental. She simply kept her face stoic before turning back to the man," That is my daughter… Lana."

Father still looked rather stiff and uncomfortable as he inched closer to me. Before he could come any closer, I watched father step between myself and the stranger," Peter, you'd best keep your distance."

Mother looked slightly irritated, but said nothing as Peter folded his fingers together, beady eyes still locked on mine as he folded his fingers together," Protective, are we, Richard?"

"Your business isn't with her," Father answered, looking back at me, wanting nothing more than to send me back to my room.

Peter stood up straight and broke eye contact with me before looking to my mother. Before he could say anything, mom spoke first," I thought you were still hiding behind that little wizarding family out in the country. Half bloods, right? Oh, no I do believe the Weasleys are blood traitors."

He tapped his fingers nervously together," Well, I've only t-t-taken a little getaway is all. I should be back home before anyone notices I was gone."

My mother's eye brows raised," Ah, yes. And what business do you have here?"

He bit down hard on his lip," Well, I wanted to know…if…if…if…-"

He paused, staring directly at me once again as he did so. It was as if he was filtering his words due to my presence, but the thought process did not last long before he was spitting out exactly what it was he meant to say.

"You've heard anything…from him. Or anyone else, for that matter?" He asked, or purred rather.

Father stepped into the kitchen, pulling out his wand and waving it to turn the lights up. As he searched for a glass, he called back into the other two," If you're wondering about the Lestranges or any of the sort, the last I heard they were stuck in Azkaban. Don't expect a reunion anytime soon."

Mother let out a dry chuckle before answering Peter," No, but I can assure you that he is in safe hands."

"You are not keeping him here?" The rat-like man asked, almost whispered, tapping his fingers together nervously.

Innocently, I watched as the saucer and tea pot placed themselves on the counter, sugar plopping itself in halfway through before father directed it toward the main dining table. He spoke as he placed more sugar on the table and pulled a chair back for me to place myself in.

"Come here, darling," He spoke delicately to me before turning and much more sternly saying to Peter. "Peter, I got that thing out of my house the moment it sat foot in here. The closest it has ever been is-"

"Richard!" Mother cut in, glaring at him. "Pay little attention to what he says…he is only blowing hot air is-"

"No Mary!" He shot right back. "You know that I am tired of being the villain when you both are clearly the ones in the wrong."

All of this was spinning around so quickly in my head that I just wanted an answer. Had I the courage to ask for an explanation? Not a lick, but I remember running my hands through my hair and rubbing my temple to a rhythm.

This Peter clicked his tongue disapprovingly," It appears as though we've a doubtful follower amongst us-"

Instantly, my father's wand shot up to Peter's ugly, scared face," You will not associate me with such."

A smirk grew onto Peter's quivering lip," You cannot deny what you are bound to…Richard. In fact, you swore an oath to-"

"I never swore an oath to the cause. No one in my family ever did such a thing," Father quickly corrected before glaring back at mother. "I made an oath to someone whom I was deceived by…"

Mother did not have an answer to this, but merely laid her eyes on the floor beneath her feet. I had never seen her look so defeated and weak before, but standing in the dark, I could see her weaknesses brighter than any daylight would have given me.

There was something that father had said that baffled me. He said that he made an oath to someone who had "deceived" him before looking directly at mother. I couldn't help but wonder if he was referencing his wedding vows as Peter was referencing whatever it was that grandmother had left to mum. This ideas may have been far-fetched, but they were still theories, nonetheless.

"…And in all honesty, I would be much obliged to break an oath that was made on false terms than stay with it and risk an innocent child be dragged into a mess she should never face," Father said strongly, slowly putting his wand down before turning back to me, not looking at mother for even a second.

Before he could reach me, Peter leaped toward him and grabbed him by the arm, pushing him aside ever-so-slightly as his rat face came toward my own. He crouched down and looked me straight in the eye," Miss Lana."

I looked right at him, not blinking," Yes?"

He smirked at my response, surprised I responded at all. Slowly, he looked up at father, as if mocking him as he leaned closer to me," You see, Richard, your daughter hasn't a choice. You can take her to the ends of the world, but one day…he will find her. She will follow…" he turned his eyes back to me," In the path of the women before her. When Mary dies, he will need another. He will expect another because he is not one to forget oaths."

I met my father's eyes and noticed how tightly clenched his jaw was. From her place in the middle of the room, mother spoke up, in a near-hysterical voice," We're tied to the past. We're permanently bound to something that will never go away nor will it end. Each and every day it is being multiplied upon what was there before."

And in the moment, I had had enough. From somewhere within my small frame, I pulled up the nerve to ask a single question," Who is he that ties us to this mess?"

All eyes, even my mother's, where set on me. Father started to step forward to protest, but Peter simply placed both of his hands on my shoulders and whispered," He is…."

Again, my father's wand came from his pant pocket as he threatened Peter," Don't even think of telling her-"

Before another spell or word could be uttered, his awful breathe exposed the truth that I had been asking for," The Dark Lord. He who is worthy of all magical praise and attention, dear Lana. Your grandmother had a rather liking for-"

"Expelliarmus!" Father yelled, more loudly than I had ever heard a person speak before and which such amazing force. My eyes widened as I jumped back and watched the man be thrown violently against the wall with a deafening crash and just as my father pulled back for another spell, I watched as the man, who had looked very similar to a rodent seemed to transform right before our eyes after the brutal beating he had just received. This rat didn't dare stay for any longer than necessary and scurried out of the cat's door.

We all sat there for many moments, simply breathing and trying to take in all that had just happened. When the silence was broken, my father demanded," Get up and go pack everything you will need for a week in your trunks, Lana."

"But father-" I argued, wanting to know so much more since I had been given a bait.

"Lana," He nearly growled, looking directly at me from behind his thick-rimmed glasses.

I did not attempt to tell him that Christmas was only three days away. We seemed to have much larger problems at our hands; therefore, I trotted along like any obeying daughter would do before packing everything and anything I thought I would need. Though father only said we would be gone a week, or insinuated rather, I had a feeling that I would not be seeing my mother for quite some time.

When I came out of my room, dragging my trunk behind me, only to have it scooped up by father when I arrived, I looked at mother, sucking back tears. Did I even recognize the unkempt woman with scraggly hair? Of course, physically I did, but the sound of her voice had changed and her personality was not what it was. Reluctantly, I came closer to her as she opened her stance. Her eyes were bloodshot as she bent down to eye-level," Whatever you do, Lana and whatever happens…please don't forget about all of the exuberant times we had as a family. Please remember your memories."

I only stared at her, unable to say anything as she leaned in and pressed her dry, cracked lips against my cheek," Mum will always love you."

Barely audible, I whispered back," I love you, too."

It was then that I felt father place a hand on my shoulder and mother stood up straight, looking him in the eye for the first time. He ushered me to the front door, but that did not prevent me from hearing the words from the front porch," We will not be coming back. I am done."

And with that…my whole life had changed at the ripe age of eleven.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, but there you have it! Thoughts? Concerns? Let me know :D Thanks a lot guys!