Surviving Malfoy _ Part II : Anger and Depression

Massive Attack 'Angel' - She's on the dark side.

Chapter 4:

Dear Effie,

My name is Lily Potter. I am not sure how much you know, but I am your brother James' wife. We married in June two years ago and I am truly sorry you were unable to attend. James told me you rejected our invitation. He didn't elaborate much why, but I believe I might understand where you are coming from, as my own sister declined her invitation for what I think might have been similar reasons.

From what James has told me, you value your privacy and want nothing to do with the wizarding world. I completely understand your standpoint, but I hope it will be alright for me to get in touch with you. Your distance to our world is the reason why I am reaching out to you. I am in need of help and I believe you are my best chance.

As you may know, there is an ongoing war in our world. James and I have been involved since we've left Hogwarts. We've been fighting closely with Albus Dumbledore and we haven't always been as careful as I now wish we would have been. James and I had twins a year ago and I'm afraid the world looks a lot scarier when your own children are expected to grow up in it.

Dumbledore has recently told us that our son is being targeted. He gave us very little detail, but we do trust him and are doing our very best to keep him out of harms way but I still fear we may not be successful in the end. In case we are not, I want to make sure at least one of my children will survive this war unharmed.

James does not know I am writing to you and I am truly terribly sorry to spring this on you without warning and without coming to speak to you in person. But I do think it would be safer to proceed this way and I hope you will find it in your heart to take our daughter in.

If we do not make it out of this war alive, please raise her as your own and do not burden her with this until she is old enough. Once she is, please let her know that James and I love her more than anything in this world and that my only motivation in giving her away, is to keep her safe.

Lily

The piece of parchment Lily's letter has been written on is blank on the other side. It has been folded neatly in four, the marks of it now ingrained deeply into the paper since it hasn't been unfolded in over a decade and a half. It's dated August 2nd, 1981, two days after my first birthday, and the envelope it came in is yellowed with age, addressed simply to Effie Potter. No street name, house number or town. I pick it up and shake it out, letting the picture I know is inside fall onto my mother's kitchen table.

It has been torn in half with the right side missing. The left shows a small living room with a squishy looking couch and pictures on a wall. A cat is lounging on one of the couch's arms, stretched out with its tail twitching in comfort. A beautiful young woman sits next to it, a toddler with matching flaming red hair on her lap. The both of them giggle as a second, black haired toddler on a toy broomstick is being chased across the room by a young man in glasses.

I recognize them from the pictures Harry showed me months ago. They look happy, as happy as they have in every picture of them I have seen so far. Except this is a picture I am also in. This makes it real. Unless someone has cleverly manipulated this picture, forged a letter in Lily's name and through some miracle produced a child that resembles the people in question - Lily and James Potter did have a second baby. A daughter that Lily Potter gave away into hiding when she became unable to keep her from harm.

I breathe in deeply as I let the idea settle.

"You know, until now I'd always had the hope Dumbledore made a mistake and I got pulled into all this by accident."

My mother is sitting opposite me, her hands folded casually on the table in front of her and her face neutral. A sad smile spreads across her face but she doesn't respond.

"Effie?" I ask.

"I changed my name," she says. "I thought it would be safer."

I nod and silence spreads over us once more.

"You look like him," I play with the torn edge of the photograph, waiting for the moment James Potter comes running into and back out of the picture over and over again.

"So, I've been told."

"How come he didn't ask any questions?" I carry on when my mother gives me a questioning look. "James. She says here she didn't tell him she was writing to you. Did he know she brought me to you?"

My mother shakes her head. "I was told Lily obliviated him after she took you away. Not many people knew you existed apparently, Lily and James were very private people, they never brought you along to any meetings or anything of the sort. She obliviated those who knew about you for sure, including her own husband, and then took you away."

"Dumbledore still knew."

"Well, he had his suspicions," my mother frowns. "He was a very powerful wizard, changing his memory can't have been a very easy thing to do. I do think she tried though, if she hadn't, I'm sure he would have come to find you earlier."

I glance down at Lily's letter. "Did Dumbledore know about you?"

"Oh, he did. I met him once before I left my parents'. They were involved in the Order of the Phoenix as well, as were James and Lily, and were quite close with Dumbledore. He never paid me much attention, but he knew I existed."

"Then why did he send Harry to Lily's sister rather than to you? You know about the wizarding world, you don't hate it as much as they do. He would've been so much better off."

"That's a question I don't know the answer to. I expected him to, after your parents died, but he never came. Regardless, I didn't always think that way, so I'm surprised even your mother decided to send you to me."

I raise my eyebrows at her.

"You know what they think of Squibs in Britain, don't you?"

I nod with a sigh.

"I used to despise wizards. They always treated muggles like little children who don't understand a thing about the world and - considering - I would've been perfectly happy if they'd treated me that way too. But no, I was sub-human in their eyes. I wasn't worthy of knowing what they were capable of, least of all being related to them. When I turned eleven and still hadn't received my Hogwarts letter or shown any magical ability, my parents stopped showing me any affection. They were good people, I knew they were capable of loving me, they always had up until that point, but no matter what I did, how good I was, how much I tried to be the perfect daughter, they only treated me with indifference.

"They were quite old already by then, but they tried for another child regardless even though they'd always insisted they were perfectly happy with one and didn't want any more kids. I was thirteen when James was born, and I hated him from the second I laid eyes on him. I was jealous, I knew somehow, that he was going to be the perfect son and Euphemia especially treated him as such and stopped acknowledging me completely."

"Euphemia?" I raise an eyebrow.

She gulps. "My mother, I was named after her. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were our parents' names, they passed away just after James left Hogwarts. I left their house when I was sixteen, finished my A-Levels in a far-away boarding school they were still gracious enough to send me to and then I moved to London on my own and tried to make a living as a muggle, ignoring any signs of wizardry around me. I wanted nothing more to do with wizards until you were brought into my life.

"I used to be a financial analyst in an investment bank. I used to have a stable, well-paying nine to five job, a two-bedroom flat in Shepherd's Bush, lovely friends, and a boyfriend I was convinced was going to ask me to marry him any day now. And then you came into my life."

My eyes shoot up.

"That was still the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Why didn't you go to James after you read this?"

"Because James and Lily were dead by the time you were brought to me."

I frown, averting my gaze back to the photo I keep on playing with. "If Lily never came to see you," I start slowly. "Who brought me to you?"

"A friend of hers," my mother says. "I can't, by the life of me, remember her name. Cathy, or Cassie - something along those lines."

"And she just dropped me off and left?"

She shakes her head no. "I asked her why she only came to me three months after Lily wrote this letter and she told me she'd been waiting for the right moment, hoping maybe she could keep you safe until the war was over. But she realized it was too dangerous and decided to finally drop you off."

"That's a little presumptuous." My eyes narrow.

My mother nods. "She struck me as quite the pretentious person to be honest. Very posh, very pompous."

"What did she look like?"

"Tall, black haired with blue eyes. She was wearing muggle clothes to blend in, and it was obvious she was feeling uncomfortable. She was trying to be courteous, but I could tell she was prejudiced. I know why she didn't want to bring you to me. She brought you in the middle of the night on Halloween, it must have been just a couple of hours after your parents died."

"Did she know?" I ask.

"That your parents were dead? If she did, she didn't tell me. They hadn't been found yet from what I heard later, so it's unlikely."

"And you have no idea where I could find her?"

My mother shakes her head. "I never heard from her again after that. She put quite some work into hiding you though. She forged documents for us, magically, so I wouldn't have to do it illegally in the muggle world."

"So, she's the one who chose my name?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

She nods. "And she's the one who told me about Salem. She told me about Madam Fox and how she'd take us in, no questions asked, especially if I told her about the danger your brother was in. So, I quit my job, took our new passports, packed my bags and flew to New Orleans."

"And your boyfriend?"

"Married for ten years with three kids," she says with a smile. "Don't worry about that, I haven't looked back since."

I carefully fold Lily's letter back up and lay the photograph on top of it. "Do you know what my real name is?" I ask quietly.

My mother blinks a few times before answering. "No," she says. "Lily made sure to mention as few names in her letter as she could. She wanted me to know as little as possible and made sure there wasn't much that could link you to them. I should have burnt this letter after reading it really, but I knew you would want to see it someday."

"I'm glad you didn't burn it," I say and after a short silence, "I wonder where that woman is now."

My mother shrugs. "I don't know. She didn't say much about herself."

"Did she say she had any children?"

"No, she didn't say anything at all more than her name," my mother responds. "And I'm really sorry I can't remember it."

I sigh. Who knew, maybe Lily's friend does have children, maybe they are my age, maybe they were at Hogwarts with me this past year. But unless I find out who she is, there is no way of knowing.

My mother stays silent. I know her eyes are on me without needing to look up, she is giving me time to process.

"Do you know anything more about my parents?" I ask.

My mother leans back in her chair and directs her gaze at the kitchen window before answering. "Not all that much. The last time I saw James, he'd just turned three. I didn't bother going to my parents' funeral or his wedding. He sent me invitations to both and even sent me a few letters once he started studying at Hogwarts, but I never responded."

"Why not?"

"I was jealous," she takes a deep breath. "I never hated him, even though I did want to sometimes. The way our parents treated me wasn't his fault. He was trying to get in touch with me and I rejected him every time he tried."

"Do you still have the letters?"

She shakes her head. "I threw them all away, I didn't even bother reading some of them. If I'd known what would happen, I would've kept and answered every single one of them."

"Do you remember what they said?"

My mother takes another deep, reminiscing breath. "He was telling me about Hogwarts, how he was doing in school, his friends. He even told me about Lily in one of the later ones, I knew who she was when I saw her name on that letter. He never told me anything about the Order of the Phoenix though. I guess it would've been too dangerous."

"He was pretty popular in school, from what Harry told me," I say, following her gaze. "But a bit of a bully sometimes, Lily was the one who calmed him down."

"She sounds like she was a kind young woman," she smiles.

"So far I haven't heard a single bad thing about her," I say.

"I'm really sorry I have so little to show you." My mother turns her eyes back to me.

I shake my head at her. "It answers some questions. Do you think you'd recognize the woman who brought me to you?"

"Maybe," she says.

"Harry told me a lot about James' friends, but never anything about Lily's."

"Maybe James' old friends remember her?"

I shrug. "One is dead and one was a spy for Voldemort. I'd need to ask Harry again about Lupin, he said he still sees him sometimes."

"A spy for Voldemort?" She frowns.

"He's the one who ratted them out in the end. He got James and Lily to trust him enough to make him Secret Keeper and then he ran straight to Voldemort with their address."

"Is he still alive?"

I nod. "He helped Voldemort come back a few years ago, he's his second in command in a way."

My mother's lips purse. "And this Lupin character?"

"As loyal as they come," I say. "Dumbledore's helped him out of a few tight spots over the years, he's been playing an active role in the Order since the first war."

"Do you know if the Order is still running after Dumbledore's death?" My mother asks, her brows furrowed.

"I think so," I say. "Austin is in touch with them. He told me last night that they're planning on moving Harry to a safe house sometime this month."

My mother tilts her head to the side. "Why is Austin in touch with them and not the British Aurors?"

I frown at that. She does have a point. Austin is part of the MACUSAs law enforcement agency and the Order is a secret organization, rebelling against a Dark Wizard thousands of miles away. And working independently from the British Ministry.

"I'll have to ask Madam Fox, she knows more about him than I do," my mother says when I don't respond.

"Maybe she put them in touch?" I say. "Sounds like something she would do."

My mother shrugs. "Did he mention anything else?"

I shake my head no. "He says it's calm at the moment, but they're preparing for something big to happen eventually."

"So, we should be on the lookout?"

"Mom, I don't think I'm in any danger as long as Voldemort doesn't have control of the ministry. He won't be able to send anyone to a different continent without a travel permission and we both know the MACUSA are keeping a close eye on British Wizards at the moment."

She lifts her eyebrows in agreement, she herself was questioned by MACUSA agents when we came back from Britain.

"I know that," she says. "But that situation could change at any moment."

"There's an entire ocean between us. If it does, we'll have time to prepare."

"We don't know how quickly that news will get to us."

"Hermione would let me know right away."

My mother sighs. "Have you heard anything new from her lately?"

"No, still the same."

She purses her lips again, just for a moment, before she asks, "And from the Malfoy boy?"

I hesitate, weighing my options, but finally I clear my throat. "He asked me if everything was okay yesterday evening."

"Jay-" She rises up in her chair in alarm.

"I didn't respond," I say. "And I won't unless I need to."

Her jaw tightens, but she doesn't reply.

I spend a great deal of that afternoon laying on my bed, rereading Lily's letter and turning the torn picture over in my hand. Watching as James chases Harry on his little toy broomstick, and Lily as she bounces me on her lap.

The idea of this small, giggling child being me feels surreal. Sure, I've spent the past year in Britain, seeing Harry Potter every day, being told I am there because he is my brother. But nothing brings the idea home quite as much as this small piece of a photograph.

My mother isn't my mother, she is my aunt. She hasn't moved here purely to find a better life, she fled. I am not an only child with a runaway father, I have a well-known brother and two dead parents.

I end up propping the picture up against the lamp on my bedside table, silently wondering what happened to its other half. It's mine and mine alone. Harry has his entire book filled with happy pictures of his childhood and our parents. I've flicked through it a hundred times, never truly appreciating it, and even now this half-torn picture seems infinitely more valuable to me.

I quickly grab the dented galleon off my desk and wave my wand over it.

Have you heard from Harry?

It's almost midnight in the UK so I set it back down, picking up Debbie's edition of the Quibbler instead, flicking it to page seventeen, from which Lucius Malfoy's gaunt looking eyes look up at me. He sneers.

It isn't a particularly long article, it just about fills the page, and doesn't have all that much information. There are no details of his escape, only a brief history of his prior involvement with Voldemort and the story of his incarceration, followed by the rumors Debbie has warned me about. I merely skim it until I reach the last paragraph and my heart skips a beat.

Following Lucius' failings to serve his Lord accordingly, his punishment could not have been graver, as it is assumed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named prompted a well-known werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, to inflict a bite on his only son. As we all know, Draco Malfoy was involved in the assassination of Albus Dumbledore in an effort to redeem his family name. Both father and son are currently on the run, however we can only hope the ministry conduct another raid at their family estate in Wiltshire, as they most likely reunited within its walls.

That is one hell of an assumption to make. Listening to Debbie, it is likely one that would be laughed off and ignored, considering it is mentioned on the same page as the theory of Malfoy Manor being infected with Umgubular Slashkilters, causing all its inhabitants to develop murderous tendencies. Nevertheless, it is an assumption I know to be true and can only hope Draco isn't reading.

I fold down the corner of the page in question and flip through until I fall on another now familiar name a few pages later, Avery. The long face of a squat, fair-haired wizard looks up out of it. His arms are restrained in a straitjacket, just as Lucius' are on his mugshot. But unlike Lucius, Corban Avery is twisting and turning in an effort to free himself, his face contorted in rage.

His article is much shorter than Malfoy's. He isn't as high ranking of a Death Eater, but was arrested following the battle at the British Ministry, along with Lucius, and is rumored to be particularly affected by the Umgubular Slashkilters. The Quibbler's editor supposes he is hiding out at Malfoy Manor, along with several other escaped Death Eaters, plotting a coup to overthrow the ministry. A plot that is apparently going well as they have already managed to infiltrate several high-ranking posts in the ministers entourage.

Disregarding the Umgubular Slashkilter theory, none of this seems very far-fetched and yet none of it has been reported in the Owl Times. Not that they have much of an interest in British News, but the fact that a particularly powerful Dark Wizard's posse has made its way into their government, surely should be worth mentioning at least in passing. Regardless, whoever the editor of The Quibbler is, if the ministry does end up being overthrown, he's getting himself into trouble by writing this.

Hermione's coin glows faintly for a second and I quickly pick it up.

He's still at his aunt and uncle's.

I send my reply quickly: Is he moving soon?

Can't tell. Her answer comes within seconds.

And you?

At Ron's since yesterday.

I hesitate before asking my next question.

Everything okay?

I'm safe. That's all that matters.