Chapter 16: Death

Lucius stared ahead of him, trembling slightly even after hours of sitting here. His grey eyes were rimmed in livid red, and as he tried to steady himself another tear leaked out of his grief soaked eyes and trailed down his hollow cheek.

Before him, a body had been laid out on his dining room table, now covered in a sheet. Completely lifeless.

Lucius slumped forward, dropping his head into his hands as racking sobs tore from him despite his efforts to contain them. They fell on the silent room like heavy weights.

Pulling himself to his feet, Lucius walked to the body and slowly pulled the sheet back, revealing the cold face of the dead.

It was too much, even for the seriously disenchanted Death Eater, and he dropped to his knees beside the body, dropping his forehead onto the thin chest.

"Please," he moaned fruitlessly. "Please don't be dead…"

One week earlier

Mircea and Lucius had been secretly engaged for just shy of a month. They had kept the secret better than that of their rocky relationship of before and their current co-habitation. Even if someone guessed they were sleeping together, as Draco had said they would, no one would guess their engagement. Mircea had cloaked her band in a charm similar to those surrounding Hogwarts, making it impossible to discover. Lucius simply switched his Malfoy coat of arms ring and no one noticed.

The Ministry was busy with other concerns. Umbridge was reaching further and further into the Ministry with her interrogations and it created an atmosphere where everyone had something to hide. Pious continued, under the Imperious Charm, to tighten the noose on the rest of the Wizarding World: Snatchers were created to find any undesirables, Dementors patrolled all prominent wizarding locations, and the search for Undesirable Number One was ceaseless.

Now, at the end of April, this brought Alecto Carrow to Mircea Eliade's desk.

"You're not in Hogwarts? This must be big," she observed simply, looking up at him. "Please sit."

He flopped into the chair across from her and she noticed Lucius watching them closely.

"What is it, Alecto?"

"You've heard Severus's reports about the little 'uprisings' at Hogwarts? Well, he's been downplaying the truth quite a bit."

"Oh really?" This piqued Mircea's interest significantly. She had kept her ear to the ground for any sort of significant faction or rebellion that would be interested in Death Eater information and willing to protect them in exchange for it.

"Yes. There's a group hiding in some room in the castle. It's only there when you need it to be there. It changes. Well, it's turned itself into a bunker for these kids. And there's quite a few of them in there."

"So walk by and 'really need' to get into that room."

"It's protecting them."

"Really?"

Alecto fixed her with an interrogative look. "You sound mighty excited about this."

"Rebellious architecture fascinates me," she responded dryly. "So what do you want then?"

"We know they're getting out somehow. The room, we've been told, can't feed them."

"And they must be getting into Hogsmeade and you want to know how?"

"Indeed."

"And I get…?"

"To keep your facial features in that pretty arrangement," snarled Alecto.

Mircea rolled her eyes and swept past him to Lucius's desk. "May be time for a spring holiday, what say you, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Fine! Here!" Alecto pulled a purse out of his coat and tossed it onto her desk. By the sound it was gold and a good amount of it. Mircea picked it up slowly, weighing it in her hand.

"I'll be in Hogsmeade the next few days," she told the other Death Eater. "I will do what I can."

"Severus will be expecting information by the end of the week."

"He'll have what he wants," she snapped back. "I'm the best at what I do. He knows that."

When Alecto had gone Lucius turned to her but she signaled him to be quiet. Lucius writhed with curiosity until she finally reached his room that evening.

"Is this it?" he asked breathlessly.

"I think so…"

They kissed one another fiercely.

"But…" she broke away from him, "we must act before the end of the week. If this is not 'it,' I'll have to turn those kids over to the Carrows and Snape."

"You seem certain you'll find them."

"I am."

Mircea had decided that it was best to just "be herself." She was not a well-known figure, especially not in other areas of England as she had been confined to the Manor. And there was always the option of making herself a bit more … infamous, if she needed to. And it was significantly easier than a disguise.

It seemed that the only thing to do was to collect as much information about this faction as she could and then visit as much of Hogsmeade as was necessary.

Snape met the first need: a file with information on the students in the Room of Requirement. Such figures as Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley stood out as strong opposition and she took mental notes on them specifically. The group had called themselves Dumbledore's Army at one point and had once included a Luna Lovegood. This was the tastiest bit of news that Mircea gleaned from the file; it was very possible that Luna would be willing to help herself, Lucius, and Draco in exchange for her freedom.

"How is Lucius?" Snape asked quietly.

Mircea's eyes flashed at Severus but she decided it was genuine inquiry. "He's as well as he could be. I'm no longer his keeper, so… that's an improvement."

"Yes. I'm sure he makes up for it."

Snape did not look up though Mircea's head snapped up and she flushed furiously.

"I mean," he continued, "Malfoys do truly enjoy gloating."

Mircea gathered her things together without a word.

"What do you intend on doing with these children should I hand them over to you?"

It was Snape's turn to snap to attention. He looked at her very closely but her face was impassive.

"I intend to show them where their loyalties ought to lie," Snape answered very quietly.

Mircea was not sure what it was, but something in the tone made her think twice about Severus Snape.

It was warm enough in Hogsmeade to justify rolled up sleeves, only to the elbows of course, despite the constant light rain. It was easier when she approached each store systematically to just show the Dark Mark and walk in than it was to speak to anyone.

The first day yielded no results whatsoever. Honeydukes reported some oddness but nothing that didn't sound like minor theft from either kids or workers. Mircea obviously knew that the Shrieking Shack sat atop a passage to Hogwarts, but that did her no good as it was guarded.

Everyone she approached was either terrified into submission by now, or mildly antagonistic. The mildly antagonistic were usually those with families, which reminded Mircea why she had always been so committed to life alone. She tried to let them alone as much as possible, which both comforted and infuriated her. On the one hand, this seemed to show she still had some shred of empathy; on the other hand, it was weakness.

After two days of interrogating the shopkeepers, workers, bartenders, residents, and Snatchers, Mircea was incredibly tense and had caught a head cold.

But then it happened.

Mircea knocked on some back alley door and found herself staring into the eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

A double take made it very clear that this was actually a different man, but she quickly recalled a younger brother: Aberforth.

"How long have you resided here?" she asked as she crossed the threshold.

"Years," he replied simply.

On the wall was a single gigantic painting and it's occupant was currently gone. Mircea saw it and kicked herself mentally. This now began to make sense.

"What service do you offer?"
"Goats. Milk. Meat. So forth."

This was it. The more she thought the more it made sense.

"There is reason to believe that students from Hogwarts have been illegally entering Hogsmeade after curfew. It is thought that this is being done through…less conventional avenues. Do you know anything about this?"

"Nothing at all. Kids don't want goats' milk."

Mircea could have almost hugged this man. The defenses around his mind were incredibly high. This had to be their link. This was the way they could survive the war.

Without a word she turned and swept out of the store.

"Only you would catch cold in spring," Lucius tutted, handing Mircea tea with lemon and honey. She had camped out in her own room, both to think and to rest. She could not be ill when they left; in stress, her body would weaken further.

Draco was back again for Easter holidays and seemed to sense something was afoot, but both Mircea and Lucius had agreed not to tell him more than he needed to know. He would not hold up as well as they would under pressure and they did not want to give anyone any reason to be rougher with him than necessary.

"Tomorrow. The day after maybe." She spoke very softly even if the room was silenced. Lucius reclined beside her, pulling her into his arms.

"I'll speak to Draco on the day we decide. I'm afraid that he may not want to come… after what happened with Narcissa," Lucius whispered directly into her ear.

"It will all be alright," she breathed back.

It had to be. There was no other option. Or so she thought.

Lucius Malfoy was the one to open the door. He had heard Fenrir Greyback's voice echoing through the entry hall: "We've got Potter! We've captured Harry Potter!" He was the one to see Scabior – a Snatcher – and Fenrir Greyback drag in a disfigured creature bound to several others. Lucius had to fight hard to keep from dropping where he stood. Now of all times… He felt his head empty and then fill back up with a new, all consuming thought. This could save them! This could bring them back into good graces and could end all of this madness. For once, Lucius would be the one to save them all.

He had rushed off, grabbed Draco, and dragged him into their main drawing room. There stood the probably-Harry-Potter.
He lead his son right up to the prisoner they were interested in. "Well, Draco? Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

Draco only stared, looking paler and more pointed than ever.

"Tell me this is Potter, Draco," Lucius pushed anxiously. "Tell me you are certain and we will call the Dark Lord and we will be out of this madness."

"I… I can't be sure…" Draco floundered. All he could think of was his unicorn hair wand. He was never meant to be a Death Eater, despite everything that had led to this moment.

The probably-Harry-Potter stared silently between an anxious looking Lucius Malfoy and a troubled Draco Malofy, both staring intently at him.

"We won't be forgetting who found him now will we, Mr. Malfoy?" Fenrir growled, uncomfortable with the turn this was taking.

"Of course not!" Lucius snapped coldly. He leaned in, examining the youth's face. "Stinging Jinx…" he murmured, "and there's something there… could be a scar."

"We have others," Fenrir announced, spinning the group so Lucius could see both Ron and Hermione.

"That is very definitely a Weasley," Lucius nearly crowed in his excitement. "Oh, Draco! Is this the girl? The Granger girl?"

Again, thoughts of the unicorn hair wand. "I…maybe…yeah."

"Then this must be Harry Potter!"

"Lucius…" a voice came from a side door. Mircea appeared in one of her old governess-style dresses, looking weak and pale. "I heard a commotion and…" Her eyes landed on the group held in the sitting room. She had spent hours pouring over these very faces thinking of how to best track them down. And she had seen them again in the Hogwarts folder Severus had given her, even though they had not attended this year. Mircea recognized them in an instant and with no doubt at all. She grabbed onto the mantle, looking as if she were in serious danger of fainting.

The group watched Lucius rush to her side and support her, leading her to an armchair.

"This cannot be…" she hissed at him. "We must do something."

"I agree!" Lucius replied. "That's why Draco will give us certainty that this is Potter and we will be the ones to hand him over to the Dark Lord."

"And what exactly do you think that will do?" Mircea snapped back at him. "You think this will save us? We need an escape, Lucius. Not another moment in the limelight before we are again discarded!"

"You don't understand," he hissed back. "This could undo everything. We would be rewarded!"

The others in the room could not hear the conversation but it was obviously a disagreement about what to do with the captives.

Mircea wanted so much to show some tender gesture to soften what she was about to say but she could not in front of all of these eyes. "Lucius, please! Do not revert to being that power-hungry sycophant I met a year ago. I simply could not bear it!"

Lucius looked as if she had slapped him. But he considered her words. He had simply lost his mind when the children had been brought to them. But why not?! It was as if destiny had given him a present: a complete set of the Undesirables!

But their conversation ended there. Bellatrix Lestrange had caught wind of he excitement in the Manor. Lucius glided quickly away from Mircea, a move that all three of the teens noted, and Bellatrix filled the room like the plague.

"Lucius!" she crowed. "Do you know what this means?"

"Indeed I do, witch," he snarled back. This was the last thing he needed.

"Go on, Draco!" she crowed, in her insanity laced voice. "Tell us this is Harry Potter and we will call the Dark Lord and we shall be rewarded!"

"I can't be sure…" he repeated, staring only at the boy in front of him.

"What do you mean?! This is Mudblood Granger. This is a Weasley. This must be Harry Potter. Just give us the confirmation, Draco!"

"And if he cannot think now, do you think you will clear his mind by shrieking at him?" Mircea snapped at the other witch.

"You, Mircea Elaide, are a problem we can be rid of once the Dark Lord receives Harry Potter. We shall no longer need sneaky little strategists."

"Sneaky little Eastern strategist to you, bitch," she fired back, meeting Bellatrix stare for stare.

Bella started for Mircea and Lucius decided to intervene.

"I'm calling the Dark Lord," he announced, rolling back his sleeve and touching his finger to the Dark Mark on his forearm. He saw the panic flash in Mircea's eyes but he didn't know what else to do. "This is clearly Harry Potter and we are wasting time."

"No!" shouted Bellatrix. "I'll call him."

"And what if this isn't him? Do either of you want to be responsible then?" Mircea yelled over them.

But the damage was done; Lucius had riled Bellatrix to action. She hit Lucius with a stunning spell, knocking him back into the mantle. Draco rushed to help his father and Bella placed her finger to her own forearm. But metal glinting caught her eye. Fenrir Greyback was fiddling with a sword – a sword suspiciously like one a certain goblin had ensured would be kept safe.

"Do nothing!" she howled.

Her change in mood and tone froze everyone in the room. Mircea grasped the back of an ornate armchair as if it were the only thing holding her up. Lucius and Draco knelt by the fireplace. Fenrir and Scabior flanked the small group of prisoners.

"We shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now! Give me that sword!"

"We found it, missus, and you won't just be takin' it," Scabior complained.

That matter was settled with great speed, resulting in a Stunned Scabior and a Body-Bound Fenrir.

"Where did you find this sword?" she snarled at the werewolf.

Mircea and Lucius had gravitated to one another now that the focus was off of them.

"What is this…?" Luicus whispered trailing off.

"I truly do not know. I was only involved in things related to the Ministry. I know nothing of this at all."

"We found it in their tent! Release me!" Fenrir was insisting furiously.

Bella was examining the sword and clearly thinking what to do. Mircea decided it was time for further intervention.

"If this is Potter he must not be harmed. Keep him with the others if you must, but do not endanger—" She was cut off however.

"You have no idea how much danger we are already in!" shrilled Bellatrix, burning a hole in the carpet in her anger.

Mircea backed down. She grabbed onto Lucius's elbow and he leaned over as much as he dared.

"This explains the Goblin from Gringotts. This is what was in her vault."

"Then how…?"

"I imagine she will have an unsavory way of finding out," Mircea cautioned. And indeed, Fenrir was taking all but the Mudblood away to the cellars.

The torture was only what Bellatrix could make it. It was all Mircea could do to keep from turning away, burying her face into Lucius's chest, and sobbing. How had her life come to this? To watching witches who should be in Azkaban ruin the life of the man she loved and torture children? And when had she gotten so weak? She had tortured and been tortured in her own time and now she was internally falling to pieces.

Lucius was mentally rotating between two choices: to take the most immediate escape (turning over Potter) or to take a calculated risk (escape and hope for mercy with leverage). He had shut himself away from the screams and torture and his vision was inward focused, a skill he had learned many years ago when his father would drink too much.

The goblin was fetched and asked about the sword. He reported it as a fake and yet… Mircea had seen more of goblins than Lucius or Bellatrix who, though they now depended on his expertise, still treated him as in inferior idiot, and she did not believe he was telling the truth.

Below their feet there was a loud, sharp sound. Mircea and Lucius looked at one another.

"Draco! Send Wormtail to see what that was. You stay here," Mircea ordered.

Another confirmation was gotten of the falsity of the sword and the goblin reaped the reward of a slash in the face.

"Good!" the dark-haired witch crowed, jerking Lucius out of his internal escape. "And now… we call the Dark Lord!"

Mircea, Draco, and Lucius all winced as the shock of the call burned their own forearms.

"Take the Mudblood if you want her, Greyback."

"Nooooooo!"

Mircea hit the floor in a moment. She was not horribly ill, but she was not in top dueling condition to be sure. Lucius's internal escape had left him less quick on his feet than usual and he was again stunned into the fireplace. Mircea put herself between him and the two boys they now fought, shooting spells at them from around the armchairs. Bellatrix went for the girl, but was forcefully knocked aside by Weasley.

And then Mircea found herself facing Harry Potter, for now that the jinx was wearing off it was most certainly he, with a look of murder in his eyes. He opened his mouth to utter a spell and Mircea's mind raced through what to do. But the blonde girl, Lovegood, had raced into the fray as well, and she now knocked Potter's hand into the air, causing him to fire the spell directly at the chandelier. The glass shook and the beams creaked as both Harry and Mircea stared at Luna, but Luna was looking only at the Death Eater.

And then the chandelier fell. Lucius had finally cleared his head enough to stand when he heard the explosive sound and threw himself back down again. He could feel glass cutting his hands and back and he could hear Draco crying out in pain. He peered through the dust, looking desperately for his son and saw him crouched down beside the chandelier with blood streaming from his forehead and the backs of his hands. He tried to go to him but was pinned down by the spells ripping the air.

From nowhere a house elf appeared and Bellatrix began to berate the little creature. It had apparently worked for the Malfoys at one point in time and seemed to have dog-like loyalty to Harry Potter. The creature sent Bella's wand flying across the room and then everything happened at once.

Bellatrix Lestrange threw her knife. Harry Potter grabbed the sword from the goblin and knocked the knife aside. Potter screamed at the house elf to Disapparate them.

Mircea stood with wand pointed at the group but with no intention of fighting them; then her wand flew from her hand as well.

The goblin grabbed the knife and flung it with deadly accuracy as the group Disapparated.

Bella dodged the knife, screaming curses at the escaping prisoners.

Draco had finally cleared his head and got to his feet behind Bellatrix to face the chaos.

The prisoners disappeared.

The knife buried itself in Draco Malfoy's chest.

The force of it sent him stumbling back a few paces. He stared at the knife buried in his chest, at the red stain covering his white shirt. He looked over at his father, who had lept to his feet, and at Mircea, who stood with her hands covering her mouth in shock. Then he could no longer stand.

Lucius had his son in his arms in moments. "Draco!" he moaned. "Just hang on."

"No," breathed Bellatrix. "He can't be saved. Not from my knife." She looked like another person from another time.

Mircea decided that nothing worse could be done, that this was not worth keeping up their farce, and she ran to Lucius and Draco.

"We were going to take you away. We were going to escape," she whispered to the dying boy, tears pouring down her face.

"Take care of my father," Draco breathed, chocking and coughing. Then looking at Lucius: "Love… you."

And then Draco Malfoy was no longer alive.

Lucius lost it completely. He clutched his dead son to him and roared a wordless cry of pain and loss.

At the sight of her fiancé holding his dead child, everything that had ever built up within Mircea, went off like an atom bomb.

Bellatrix was still standing in shock when the broken chandelier arm connected with her face. She cried out in pain, bent double, and the next blow fell on her back, knocking her to the ground. Mircea Elaide stood over her with the look of someone who was being forced to eat death, and then she again raised the heavy metal bar.

The Dark Lord had interfered with Mircea's personal vengeance and had dealt out his own. Bellatrix had taken the worst of it, being the one who had called him, but Mircea and Lucius were spared no humiliation or pain.

Lucius's hair was cut off, taking anything from him that could give him pride.

Their bands were discovered after excruciating torture and they were punished further for this deceit. Further punishment was promised.

Mircea was forced to reabsorb all the memories of her youth that she had hidden away, a psychological torture she could hardly endure, and Lucius was made to watch.

It was made very clear to them all that both Bellatrix and Mircea would have been handed over to Fenrir if they were not Death Eaters.

And they were all once again placed under strict house arrest.

Of Draco's death, the Dark Lord only stated that it was a matter of time and it was a better death than any of the three of them could even begin to hope for.

Lucius had spent the entire night beside the body of his only child, which had been laid out on the dining room table.

And now he knelt beside his dead son, his head on the thin, cold chest, and wished to die.

The door opened but he did not move. Thin arms wrapped around him, pulling him from the dead body, and he clutched at Mircea, sobbing even harder.

Mircea watched Lucius weep into her shoulder as she knelt beside him and her heart broke for the hundredth time.

Lucius could feel her shaking with her own tears and he looked up into her face, which was now purpled and lacerated like his own.

"This cannot have happened," he moaned, his voice hoarse with crying. "If this has happened, what has everything been for?"

"I don't know," Mircea rasped before, dissolving again into tears. "I don't know."

"I only wanted the best life for my son and now he is dead. And we were so close."

Mircea nodded, unable to speak as the screams of her dying parents echoed loudly in her head. Everything she had ever cared for – her family, her dreams and ambition, and now her chance to save the three of them – had been taken from her.

No. Everything except Lucius. And something was being planned now, she had no doubt.

"Lucius," she gasped, pulling herself together, "we must follow through. We must escape. Draco would not have wanted his death to lead to yours as well."

"I can't."

"But why?"

Lucius stumbled to his feet, wiping his face and looking down at his lifeless child.

"Because nothing I have ever done has mattered. My life has been weighed, Persephone, and I have only been found wanting."

Mircea did not know what to say. There was nothing to say.

"We must bury him, Lucius."

"I know," he said, and then he took off his suit coat and his vest and dropped his cufflinks on the table. He looked different and older with short hair. Then he picked up his son and left to dig a grave.