Chapter 17: Defected

Mircea could not find Lucius and this worried her greatly. It was 72 hours since Draco's death and she was convinced that some sort of punishment was coming for her and Lucius. She had left him to his grief for a day after he buried his son but now they needed to act. They had been promised more pain would come for their secret love affair and she did not doubt that it would.

Mircea stopped hurrying down the hall and gripped a nearby banister, her other hand flying up to cover her mouth. Tears still seized her violently and without warning and it was all she could do to stifle them.

This had all started as a way to keep her and Lucius at one another's throats: to shackle them together and yet forbid them to ever get along or work together co-operatively. This was, she was now sure, the entirety of why she had been put in charge of him at all; he was "Ministry and loathsome" and the Dark Lord had thought that would be enough. But then then inevitable had happened, and their shared suffering had led them to draw close. Then their shared secrets did the rest.

But how had this led to the death of a young man who had done nothing wrong? Of a man who had a unicorn hair wand that would refuse to do evil?

The grief struck her so hard it nearly brought her to her knees, but this was also the confirmation she had needed. They did not just need to escape; they needed to change sides, because the side they had both been on was the side of evil and death and oppression.

But she needed to find Lucius and convince him of all of this before he was taken from her. So she dried her eyes and continued her search.

She found him in the entry hall. She also found him surrounded by all of her things, heaped in the middle of the floor, on top of her trunk like rags to be burned. The sight of it stopped her in her tracks and the expression on his face stopped her heart.

"Lucius, what is this?"

His face was completely devoid of feeling, a face he might turn on a shopkeeper who knew nothing about him at all.

"This is eviction, Miss Elaide."

"Wh—why?"

"You killed my son. Your hesitation to do what we should have done from the first is the reason my son is dead."

"Lucius, you cannot—"

"Do not address me as if you and I are on familiar terms. You will address me as Mr. Malfoy or you will suffer the punishment best befit witches of your kind."

"My kind?"

"The lowest kind of Dark. The Dark from the squalor of the East."

Mircea had seen him immediately revert back to sad sycophant when Potter had turned up and knew his distaste for the East had not been lessened by their love affair and these words fed her cold fear that Lucius could not change.

"Lucius…"

She was hit with a spell of intense pain that left her curled on the flagstone floor.

"You were already instructed on proper modes of address. Take your things and get out."

Lucius heard her get to her feet and had kept his wand at the ready in his hand. He did not turn to face her until he felt his wand pulled from his hand and thrown across the hall. And when he turned to face her, she her elbow connected hard with his eye.

Lucius was not a tactician, unlike his fiancée. But this did not make him an idiot. The only way to save Mircea was to get her far away from him. This could not be done voluntarily; she would have to be forced away. And while she was the strategist, he could stick a knife into someone in ways they never knew they could hurt, a skill she completely lacked.

He had drug her stuff down to the hall himself. He had done everything he could to prepare for her reactions, pleadings, arguments, etc. And he had waited.

Her surprise at the situation had nearly thrown him off completely. Lucius had expected her to have found her room empty and come looking for why, but she seemed completely ignorant of this until she found him. And was this not what she had done to him all those months ago? This was a very obvious ploy but it was working.

Cursing her had been infinitely harder than he would have expected. He had refused to use the Cruciatus Curse on her; it was too much for him to bear in the long list of his crimes.

Lucius heard Mircea get to her feet and waited for her to yell or hex him or whatever. But instead she had struck him.

It was the thing he had least expected: a full on physical attack. And he reacted in a way that even he did not expect.

Mircea drew back and punched him again in the stomach. Lucius let out a groan and bent double, still sore from the severe punishment of the Dark Lord. She pulled back to hit him again, for abandoning her like this and for cursing her, but she stopped. Lucius was still doubled over and uncurled slowly as she watched him.

He stood straight and stared at the stone beneath his feet. He did not position himself to defend himself. Lucius wasn't fighting back, which was so unheard of for either of them that Mircea only stared at him.

It was now perfectly clear that this was not what he wanted, whether it was another fight or her presence, and she needed to know.

Mircea drew very close to Lucius, who pointedly did not move in any way. She could practically feel his heartbeat as she could see it in the now naked hollows of his skull.

Lucius was suffering terribly. He needed her to get out of there, and if that meant letting her beat him then fine. But she had to go and she had to go now; his resolve was crumbling.

"Lucius, if you truly want me to go, I will go," Mircea murmured. "But if you are trying to save me…" She took his hand, and felt him pull his hand away from hers.

"Please go…"

Mircea kept her word and with a few flicks of her wand had magically packed her trunk. Where would she go? She could hide herself but she didn't want to. She pushed away tears and tried to hurry to close her trunk before he saw her cry, but in her rush she stumbled over the trunk itself.

Lucius's heart broke as he watched Mircea trying to gather herself up while still keeping her back to him, and he acted without thinking.

Their hands met with a warm familiarity as he pulled her to her feet. This brought them close together their bodies centimeters away from each other. Reflexively, Lucius's free hand moved to her waist. Both their minds had gone blank and the closeness and habits they had built up over the course of the year took over. Mircea leaned close and stopped, her lips millimeters away from Lucius's lips. And Lucius closed the distance.

Breaking the kiss, Lucius pulled her close to him, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm so sorry. For… everything."

Mircea ran her hands through his short, pale hair. "If we're going to start apologizing, it will be a long while before we stop, Lucius."

Lucius sent her trunk back to her room with a flick of his wand and Mircea gently took his face in her hands. Their lips met again, with slightly more fire. But the door flew open behind them causing them both to jump and cling closer together. The Dark Lord was sweeping into Malfoy Manor with a train of terrified Gringott's workers, humans and goblins.

The couple found themselves knocked to opposite sides of the entry hall without a word to address how they had been found. This was more concerning to Mircea than if there had been more yelling and abuse.

"The vault has been breached," Voldemort growled at the Gringott's workers who had now grouped together in the cold, stone hall. "How has this happened?"

"It was Harry Potter, sir," someone finally volunteered after a long silence. "He had the help of a Gringott's goblin. And the girl looked exactly like Miss Lestrange."

Spells began to fly so that the air bristled with them and they rebounded off of the walls and mirrors. Gringott's workers fell where they stood. Mircea and Lucius both dove behind whatever they could find to shield themselves. Once again Lucius found himself thinking that there was no chance at all they would both survive. Survive what, though? This would go on without end. Unless…

Bellatrix came rushing into the hall once things had finally become quiet. Only then did Mircea and Lucius creep out of their makeshift shelters.

"My Lord, I have failed you!" She fell on the floor before Voldemort. He stared down at her coldly before stepping over her without any acknowledgement.

Mircea stayed on her knees as she listened to his approach. There was nothing that she could do to prevent whatever was coming for her. Lucius, however, jumped to his feet and started forward a few steps.

Voldemort grabbed a handful of Mircea's hair and hauled her to her feet. She stood face to face with him, twisted backward with his hand still wound in her hair.

The Dark Lord looked her over, forcing himself to breathe deeply. She looked old now. She had once looked younger and more attractive than the other Death Eaters, but no longer. Her face was purple under one eye and her lip was swollen; combined with an assortment of scratches and cuts (all from their punishment three days ago) she looked frail as well. And yet she had been found once again in the arms of Lucius Malfoy. Once again she had been found receiving comfort in this Manor that he did not intend for a single one of its occupants.

"I think you shall better serve me in Hogsmeade, Mircea," he hissed quietly. "A commander is needed for the front lines. It will be the best and final use for your pathetic life. You shall leave this very moment."

"My Lord," Bellatrix pleaded from the floor, "please, send me and I will not fail you."

"One incompetent woman is quite enough. You shall remain here, and only here, indefinitely. Your horrible face has caused enough trouble for a lifetime."

Bellatrix had heard the defense given by the Gringott's workers and stared pure hate at Mircea. This was a decision was intended to punish every one of them.

Mircea felt herself released and shoved. She stumbled a few feet away and stood watching the Dark Lord. He pointed a new wand at her. She spun to face Lucius, to say goodbye. Her wide dark eyes met Lucius's now sunken grey ones. His lips parted to speak for the last time.

And then she was gone.

Mircea was dropped into the street in front of the Hog's Head. The light was fading but it was early enough that she did not set off the alarms that had been placed in Hogsmeade. With no one to watch her every move, she was free to do something she had not done in a long time.

She paid what little money she had for a room. Then she sat on the bed and wept brokenly, using her skirts to muffle her cries.

Mircea had fallen asleep where she lay and was woken up by fierce hunger. Her head pounded and she felt groggy. She pushed her way out of her room and down the narrow hallway. The crowd in the Hog's Head was mostly gone and the people remaining were very obviously Dark wizards and witches. She fit right in.

"Food, please," she mumbled to the witch running the place.

"Money first."

Mircea glowered and yanked her sleeve up, showing her Dark Mark. "Food. Now."

The witch left without another word. Mircea picked out a corner by a window and stared out at the empty street. She felt slightly bad for what she had done; she would pay if she could but she was now even more destitute than a year ago. And there was no way for her to live, nowhere to go forward from here: there was no economy to speak of, the Ministry wouldn't touch her now, and she had no way to gain an income as Death Eaters were hardly expected to work.

But how long would it matter? Mircea tried to make her brain function. Griphook being brought to the Manor was the first big error. Something big had been taken, though for all of them at the Manor it had been overshadowed by …

The witch working dropped a plate of food in front of Mircea and a glass of water before turning and walking away without a sound.

Mircea threw appearances to the wind and dove on the food, happy to distract herself from the manifold tragedies of her life. Only after finishing two thirds of the food did she slow down.

Back to where she had been before… The sword had been stolen and it had been a great loss. It was known that Voldemort was looking for something and that this had led to the long absences that had allowed what brief happiness she and Lucius had shared. Enough of that. Anyway, there had been another item that had been taken from Bella's vault (explaining the presence of the goblin) and it too had been a great blow. There had only been two days between these events.

Harry Potter was searching for the same things as Lord Voldemort and was finding them, something that was of great cost to the Dark Lord.

Every crumb of her stolen meal was now gone and she sat back, staring into the night. She needed to get out of here, change sides or get away. She needed to get back to Lucius and get him out as well. The war would break any day now and she was sitting on the battleline. That was the only outcome for events like this: a hunt that was apparently narrowing each hour.

The sirens went off with deafening volume that brought everyone in the room to their feet. Mircea's heart flipped. She felt certain this was it. The sirens indicated someone Apparating into Hogsmeade and there were only a few people who would be stupid enough to do this.

Running out in the night she knew where Potter was headed but obviously knew better than to head in that direction. The less attention drawn there the better. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she refused to think ahead. One step at a time.

Mircea headed inside and waited ten minutes, forcing herself to remain perfectly still. Then she headed back out into the night. She calmly walked to the goat man's store. And she calmly blew the door open in combination with a silencing spell.

The man had a wand on her and she resisted the urge to make him wish he did not. Instead she Petrified him and knelt calmly beside his stiffened form.

"I am not unreasonable and I will grant you the power of speech, old man," she murmured, spelling the door back in place and sending up a fortress of spells.

"What is it you want?" he growled at her.

"Your name for one. And to defect." She barely breathed the word but it carried heavily in the still room.

The man stared at her for a very long time. "You were here not a week ago. Why now?"

"I was hoping to bring my lover and his son. His son is dead and I have been left here alone."

"We cannot take on rejected Death Eaters. You would bring more trouble than you could possibly be worth. Already spells this thick will bring undue attention here."

"If the little man I think just appeared here some time ago really did appear here some time ago, then it won't matter for long will it?"

Aberforth stared at her. He could break this spell. But he couldn't see the next move ahead and as in chess he did not want to move without a picture of the board.

"I would challenge you to kill me, witch, but that will prove to be much harder than you think."

"I'm a Death Eater, old man. I have no intent of killing you." Mircea reached into her pocket and pulled out her last resort. "You know what this is, no doubt?" she asked, showing him a vial.

"Veritaserum."

"You must give me some credit, old man. I could place you under the Imperius Curse, but you will be able to tell all with your mind as your own. Don't trouble yourself to thank me. I know wizards of your caliber are much harder to control and I don't have the time."

The painting. My sister will lead you to Hogwarts, to the Room of Requirement. Potter is there. He will kill you, given the chance.

Mircea followed the twists and turns of the passage. She felt a little guilty for her actions against the old man. But she knew who he was related to and she was not about to be killed just yet.

She reached the end and pushed against a stone door. Her pushing was a little overzealous and she toppled into the room very unceremoniously. Wands were on her in seconds and she threw her hands up.

"I mean you no harm! I am here to defect!"

The silence in the air was thick and the contrast between the Death Eater and the students around her was stark.

A tall gangly boy pushed up to her. "How did you get here? What have you done to Abberforth?!"

"Done nothing, boy," Mircea spat back at him, unable to keep the distaste out of her voice. "He's simply been Petrified."

"He would never tell how to enter here to the likes of you! What have you done?"

"I have done nothing. Magic, however…"

The boy lunged at her and she pointed her wand at his throat. Enough Stunning Spells hit her that when she collided with the wall, she lost consciousness immediately.

"You've lost your mind, Luna! She's a Death Eater!"

That was a voice Mircea knew. Harry Potter. Her head hurt. And her shoulder. And of course her wand was gone. Hell…

"She saved my father and I!"

"And you spared her once already! We cannot take her on! We cannot trust her!"

"If someone had saved your parents, would one time be enough, Harry Potter?! Would you not do all you could for the life of your parents?!"

A new man's voice joined the conversation and Mircea decided to try to open her eyes. Then she closed them because the crazy blonde man she saved was more than she could bear to look at right now.

"You've even sent Neville to check on Abberforth and Neville confirmed there is nothing wrong with him. She's done him no harm. Abberforth will still be able to assist us. We should at least hear her out."

Mircea cracked her eyes and watched Harry Potter pace back and forth in front of the father and daughter, who had taken position between her and the boy.

"Very well. Get her up and we'll hear her speak."

Mircea was helped to her feet and Luna caught her attention. "Be honest. Don't provoke them."

Mircea held herself as straight as she could bear. For the first time she could survey the group before her. The three she had already seen at the house, along with the girl and her father. Behind them, a ridiculous family of red heads. Behind them, people she recognized from the old Ministry and…

Remus had to repress a snarl as the Death Eater's eyes rested on him. Her smirk made him want to tear out her throat with his teeth.

Mircea saw a mass of children behind this initial group. This was who she was joining. They had no chance of winning.

"I am here to defect," she announced.

"Why?"

"For all of the obvious reasons. I know better than any of you what our lives will be like should the Dark Lord win. The Dark Lord has sent me here to die and I have loved ones I wish to save."

"Loved ones? Who?"

"Lucius Malfoy."

There was a collective intake and a hiss of whispers in the room. A girl from the back of the room called out, "What about Draco?"

"He is dead." Mircea's voice faltered. "Killed by the blade your goblin threw."

The girl who had asked gasped aloud and then quiet crying could be heard.

"Not our goblin," the one redhead with Potter growled.

"What are your terms? There must be something you want and something you can offer."

"I can offer you the mind of the Dark Lord. I orchestrated the attack on the Ministry. I can tell you how and with what the Dark Lord will attack every inch of this building."

"Your request?"

"You let me fight beside you and no one kills Lucius Malfoy."

More murmuring. Mircea waited. The three children in front of her convened with the adults behind them.

"There is not much time," she urged.

The children returned. "We can allow for you to fight with us and be granted immunity should you survive, but we cannot guarantee Malfoy."

"Then we have no bargain."

"But why—?"

"I am here solely to save his life, you ignorant child! If that cannot be done then we have no bargain! No one kills LUCIUS MALFOY!"

This little explosion caused a few moments' rebellion in the ranks. There was open anger at not only allowing a Death Eater to go unpunished but deliberately sparing another the punishment that so many wanted to give him. The Malfoys were less than popular here.

"Enough!" bellowed the girl with bushy brown hair who had been with Potter the night Draco died. "We will do as she asks."

"Hermione!" the two boys cried in unison. "What the hell?"

"How thick can you both be? She loves him. Does that mean nothing to you? She's here for love and to sacrifice herself for him."

"This is insanity," Harry murmured.

"No. This is the end, and our world is being turned upside down. Your mother sacrificed herself to save you and it was a powerful magic of it's own. She," Hermione pointed at Mircea, "is here to do the same. And it may tip the balance."

Mircea gripped her wand so hard it hurt her hand. She tried to tell herself to breathe. She had battled before.

But as long as Lucius was not at her side, she would feel the choking and cloying panic that it was all too late. All for nothing.

"Here." A red headed woman handed her a forest green dress. "I expect you won't want all that trailing behind you." She gestured at the big skirts Mircea was still wearing.

The thought was nice, she told herself. Of course she could Transfigure them. But this was something of theirs to put on, a way to take off the layers of Death Eater.

She took the dress with a tight half smile and headed away to an empty classroom to change. Everyone was strategically positioned. There were a lot of weaknesses (the biggest being that their main defense consisted of children who had not even completed basic courses) but given the right tactics they could hold their own. And the teachers were not useless.

There was the sound of rabble and she rushed to a window. Below, the Snatchers, werewolves, and low-lifes had begun a slow charge on the school.

"It begins," she whispered.