A/N: "The only man a girl can depend on is her daddy." – Frenchy from Grease

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Chapter 24: Of a Father's Love

When Remus and Rowan arrived at the Delacroix Manor, they found Richard sitting in his study with a glass of scotch in his hands, leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed.

"Dad!" Rowan exclaimed as she burst in, followed by a calmer Remus, who sat quietly in the seat across from the older man. She threw her arms around her father's neck, making him spill a bit of his drink in surprise. She pulled away and grinned sheepishly as he sighed with exasperation and placed it on his desk, vanishing away the small splash of liquor. He smiled knowingly at Rowan.

"So you read the paper today," he said smartly. He wore a smug smile, but the tired lines in his face were still apparent.

"Yes, and it was brilliant! I can't thank you enough!" she said gratefully. She noted how exhausted he looked, and her gaze softened. "I can't imagine how much you've had to work to pull this off. I'm sorry for making you go through this," she said ruefully.

He smiled softly. "I'm just doing my job. Knowing how he's hurt you just gives me an extra bit of motivation," he said. Rowan's chest felt like it might burst with affection for her father.

"So what now?" Remus asked. Richard looked over at him, and Rowan saw a strange expression on his face that she couldn't place.

"He'll go on trial with the Wizengamot," Richard replied gravely. "We're still trying to get some names from him, but he wants a deal before he agrees to anything. Some people like Barty Crouch are pushing for it," he said.

Rowan felt a small bubble of panic. "But they can't pardon him! He helped murder someone! And how do we know if he's not just feeding false names to get himself out of trouble? He deserves to go to Azkaban for what he's done!" she exclaimed indignantly.

Richard grimaced. "I know he does, darling, but if the Wizengamot votes to accept his list of conditions then there's nothing I can do about it. I'm pushing as hard as I can to get a conviction, but at this point, I've really done all I can," he said sadly.

Rowan looked at her father with guilt. He looked so old, so tired. He'd been working this case for weeks non-stop, and all she'd done was stomp her feet like a petulant child. He'd always given her everything she'd wanted, and now, he was even risking his life by going up against a known Death Eater. How could she be so ungrateful?

"I'm sorry, Dad," she said quietly. "I know you've been working so hard on this case. I can't express how proud I am of you."

Richard grasped her hand gently and beamed at her. "I will always do everything in my power to make sure that you are safe and taken care of. Even if that means sleeping a little less, then I'll do it without complaints," he said fervently. Rowan's throat constricted with emotion. "You are my greatest treasure. You know that, right?"

She nodded and blinked away the stinging at her eyes. She smiled and squeezed his hands tightly.

He smiled. "Good. Now, go talk to your mother. She's been yapping my ear off non-stop about how she doesn't see you anymore. I need to talk to your friend here alone," he said, pushing her towards the door.

Rowan glanced back at Remus wide-eyed. He stared after her looking bewildered but didn't move. She stood in front of the door, glancing between the two men, but Richard didn't look back at her. He was staring at Remus intently, and Rowan realized she had no choice but to leave Remus there. She shot him an apologetic look before walking out and closing the door quietly.

Remus watched Rowan leave him in her father's study alone with mild horror. He hadn't been left alone with the older man in ages, and this was the first time since he and Rowan had broken up. Richard was an intimidating man already, but he became an entirely different creature when the matters at hand involved his daughter. He looked at the man carefully with a slight pang of panic.

"Calm down, boy. I just want to talk to you," Richard said gruffly, taking a swig from his glass. As he set it down, he shot a long hard look at Remus. He felt slightly vulnerable.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" the older man asked bluntly.

If Remus had been drinking anything, he would have spat it up. Had he really just asked him that?

But before he could answer, Richard continued: "I know you two are no longer 'together' in an official sense of the word, but I know the expression of a young man in love, and you, sir, still have it all over your face when you look at her."

Remus felt his throat burn with embarrassment. He always figured Rowan's parents knew he still had feelings for her, but hearing her father say it so bluntly was painful. Was he finally going to tell him to shove off?

"When I found out that she was dating a werewolf, I was immediately against it, and I can't say honestly that I was completely displeased when she informed us that she was no longer seeing you," he admitted. He said it confidently and without remorse. Remus was unsure of how to react.

"The idea of my daughter risking her reputation and career for some school romance disturbs me, and now, her involvement with your condition has left her in quite a terrible ordeal, even if she is not romantically involved with you anymore," he declared.

Hearing the cold truth hit Remus off-balance for a moment. He was right – Rowan had gotten hurt numerous times because of her associations with him. Remus' hands gripped his knees with guilt, but he sat straight and forward, not averting his gaze from Richard's face. He waited for the older man to continue.

"But I also know that she's damn stubborn. I'm afraid that's a trait that she inherited from me, though I've generally been quite pleased about it before now," he said.

Remus felt his breaths come short and shallow. Where was he going with this?

"I won't claim to understand the strange dynamic that you have, but if you want to be with her, you have to commit to her – completely, totally, and utterly," Richard said slowly. He emphasized each word with great gravitas. "I know I can't convince her out of this, but you can, and if you're even half as honorable as you seem to be, you'll do the right thing by leaving her for good."

Remus felt his blood run cold at the underlying threat in Richard's voice.

Commitment – marriage – had remained in the back of his head since their first conversation, and the dark presence there whispered its desires to claim her, to make her his own in every way. He wanted to be with her, to marry her desperately, but could he really do that? Could he burden her any further?

He thought he'd be able to finally let her go. He wanted to let her go. He'd seen with his own eyes the real damage that her involvement had brought about, and the thought of putting her through more made him sick with despair. But he couldn't completely leave her. He needed to be by her side, to know that she was always safe. Even if he'd ended their romantic relationship, he knew he was incapable of pushing her away completely, that he needed to stay close to her, even under the guise of friendship.

And she'd understood! Even without hearing his explanations or apologies, she'd understood implicitly and completely where life had cruelly led them and why he couldn't be with her any longer. She stood aside willingly to let him walk ahead alone, held herself back from tying him down to her.

"But I have left her," Remus said quietly.

Richard assessed Remus for a moment, swirling his drink on his desk. "You say that," he replied slowly, "but just because you're no longer sharing her bed doesn't mean that you've left her." Remus' face burned at Richard's words.

"My daughter will not be some toy for you to leave and come back to whenever you please. If you want her – if you love her – you'll commit to her completely. If you can't promise me that, then I don't want you anywhere near her," he finished.

Remus weighed the older man's words. Could he promise him to do the right thing? The man had essentially just given him his conditional blessing, but now that he had it, he wasn't sure if he wanted it. It'd be so much easier to push her away if he knew that her parents didn't approve of him, but now he couldn't rationalize it beyond his own personal reasons.

But could he really let her go? Their time apart had been painful. He had been able to resume their friendship relatively easily, but he knew that if he left her again, there would be no friendship, no second chances – at least for him. He wouldn't be able to stand being near her, knowing that she still loved him, that he could never have her. The thought of her moving on without him was equally as painful, and the idea of another man touching her in the way that only he had sparked an echoing howling in his mind.

Richard was looking at him fiercely, waiting for his answer. He looked at the older man and saw all of Rowan's ferocity, her conviction. His eyes burned into him in the same way that hers did, and he knew his answer.

"I can't promise you that I won't hurt her. I think I'll always hurt her somehow," he said honestly, slowly. Richard's face darkened.

"But you're right," he said confidently. "I might have discontinued our relationship de jure, but I can't deny that I'm still very much in love with her. I think I always will be. As far as I'm concerned, every responsibility that I had as her romantic partner to protect her will always remain my privilege and duty."

Remus and Richard stared each other down. The older man glared hard and unwavering, and Remus felt himself begin to falter, but he held his ground. He needed to convince this man that he wasn't going anywhere.

"I do still love her, and I promise to put her life before mine in all ways," he said. "I don't expect her to accept what little of myself I can offer to her forever. I expect that one day she'll realize that she's had enough and cut me out of her life, and when that time comes, I'll step out of it without protest.

"But for now, I have to remain by her side," he said ardently. He felt a fire in his chest. "As long as she is in even the slightest of danger, I'm going to be there to protect her, and if that means going against your wishes, then that's a risk that I'm going to have to take, sir."

Richard assessed him carefully and didn't speak. Remus felt his hands tremble slightly, but he sat tall, not breaking his eye contact with the older man.

Finally, Richard slowly nodded. His expression remained grave, but he felt there was an understanding between them. The tightness in his stomach released slightly.

"I see that I can't dissuade you," Richard said slowly. "But you will promise me that once this war is over, you will either make yourself scarce from Rowan's life or completely share in it. I will not stand for you to be in between." His nostrils flared with something akin to anger, and Remus was startled by the fire in the older man's eyes.

"I will not say it again: You will do the honorable thing by my daughter, so help me, or I will do everything in my power to see that you are forcibly removed from her life. I have no inhibitions, no boundaries when it comes to her happiness. Do you understand me?" he growled.

Remus was absorbed the implications of his words, frightened by the sudden ferocity there. But he pulled himself up and nodded to the older man.

"You have my word, sir."

When Remus and Richard entered the library together, Rowan felt slightly uneasy. The two men were silent, but they seemed to have a tense understanding shared between them. She was dying to know what they had talked about.

"All finished?" she asked curiously, and they both smiled warmly at her.

Richard clapped Remus hard on the back. "Yep, he's all yours," he said jovially, pushing Remus forward roughly. Remus stumbled forward, looking slightly flustered, and he grinned sheepishly at her with a strange awkwardness.

Richard walked over to Carole, who was seated at her desk, and looked at her fiercely, taking her hand in his. Rowan watched the silent exchange between the two and was filled with gratitude for her parents. As they walked the younger pair to the door and said goodbye, Carole hugged them both affectionately, and Richard shook Remus' hand firmly. They shared another serious, knowing look.

As her father stepped forward to hug her goodbye, she was suddenly filled with a strange ache. He held her longer, squeezed a little harder than usual, and when he pulled away, she couldn't help the empty feeling in her stomach. She looked at him searchingly and saw the gentlest expression there, and she suddenly was struck with an inexplicable fear.

"Better get going before it gets too late," he said softly, holding her face between his hands gently. She smiled jerkily in response, but it felt unnatural, forced. Her face burned as his large hands left it. As she turned towards the door with Remus, she had to look back. She gazed at her parents – old and gray – and tried to memorize their faces, every line, every aspect of their posture, their clothes. They waved goodbye to her, and as she and Remus Disapparated, she was filled with a terrible sense of dread.

Late the next night, Richard Delacroix sat in his office at the Ministry of Magic, swirling a glass of scotch on ice. He gazed around the room at the old leather seats and polished cypress wood furniture and smiled wryly: wood for the hero's death – how appropriate. He held his wand, also cypress, and ran his fingers over the handle, fingering the grooves and dips that he knew so well. It had been a vital part of him for so long, his loyal partner in all walks of life. He thought of John Potter, of Carole.

One more battle, my friend, he thought. His wand seemed to vibrate in response.

He heard distant voices and took one more sip of his drink before setting it down. He straightened himself in his seat calmly as he heard the voices approach, footsteps pattering rapidly down the hall. Finally, the door burst open, revealing five men in dark robes and glinting silver masks. He looked at them almost amusedly.

"Only five?" he asked tauntingly. "I thought I would have at least warranted eight of you."

"Foolish last words, Delacroix," one said darkly. "You're not leaving here alive."

Richard smiled. "And neither are you, Lestrange," he said calmly.

Then before any of the Death Eaters could react, he tossed his glass into the air and threw a beam of light at it, shattering it into sharp blades, which then shot at the Death Eaters. The glass daggers pierced through their skin, earning loud cries of pain. One fell to the ground as he was stabbed through the leg. The one called Lestrange was pierced through the neck, and he collapsed gurgling and gasping up blood.

The room was filled with flashes of light, and Richard fell behind his desk to shield himself.

"You'll die for this, old man!" the one with the injured leg shouted.

Richard laughed maniacally. "You first!" he shouted before ducking out from behind the table and throwing a green light at the collapsed Death Eater. He fell dead with a grunt.

Three left, he thought.

The men erupted into shouts of anger, crashing into the furniture and moving towards the desk quickly. Lestrange continued to gurgle on the ground, writhing in agony. Richard sat behind his desk and took a deep breath. He looked up at his liquor cabinet and saw his scotch in its crystal bottle sitting on top. It glowed against the moonlight of the window, and he thought of the warm amber of his beloved Carole and Rowan's eyes. He smiled and closed his before holding his wand up. As the remaining three Death Eaters descended upon him, he thought of all the ways he was grateful. Fiendfyre burst from his wand.

The Death Eaters screamed in agony as the fire burned into their robes. The flames formed roaring wolves and lions, which consumed the wooden furniture around them, and Richard realized tiredly that he had made a grave miscalculation. He was much too exhausted to control them.

You've gotten old, Richard, he thought to himself darkly.

"I'll kill you, Delacroix! I'LL KILL YOU!" one screamed, thrashing wildly with pain and trying to put out the fire.

Richard smiled to himself and leaned back against his desk.

"We'll all go down together," he said quietly.

As the room around them burned, he heard the sirens of the Fire Department but knew it was too late for all of them. The room was filled with smoke, and the windows burst from the flames. Every surface of the room seemed to be on fire. He felt the smoke fill his lungs, and his back burned agonizingly, but he was too tired to move.

One of the screaming Death Eaters tore off his robes and mask and stood in front of Richard with his wand drawn, teeth bared and eyes blazing in rage. His face, arms and chest were painfully burnt black and red, and Richard smelled the stench of burning flesh. He thought of his daughter.

Have I avenged you yet, darling? he thought.

He smiled up at the dark wizard and closed his eyes, and as he saw the green light flash from behind his eyelids, he knew that he had lived and died honorably.