Freedom

Lucius had held Raven until she\'d fallen asleep, crying, still in his arms. Then he\'d held her a bit longer, marveling at how strong she really was. Definitely her mother\'s child.



That thought had inevitably led him to thinking about her mother.



And her mother\'s killer.



At some point, Narcissa had stopped being his wife, and had instead become Sylvia\'s murderer.



But retribution (he chose not to think of what he would do as revenge, even if some would consider it thus) would have to wait. His first priority was his daughter\'s safety, and he could do nothing for her if he rushed, Gryffindorlike, to slay his wife and was returned to Azkaban. No, this must be accomplished with care.



Knowing that, he was aware that it would be folly to return tonight to Malfoy Manor. He didn\'t know any details, but he knew enough to know that his temper, frayed by the time in prison, would be easily broken when faced by Narcissa.



He sat that night watching his baby girl sleep, smoothing her forehead when she seemed in the grip of a nightmare, his determination growing to see right done by her.



He hated that he\'d have to turn to the Ministry for this. He had no illusions as to the treatment either of them, convict or whore, were likely to receive at their none-too-tender mercies, but he hoped, devoutly, that the power-that-be would look beyond his sordid past and help him protect his daughter. He did, after all, still have money. Not as much, perhaps, but enough, more than enough, for this.



When the sun rose and the nurse returned to duty, poking her head in and clearly surprised that he\'d spent the night in the uncomfortable chair, he offered her his most charming smile, asking her to take special care of his princess, and telling her that he\'d be returning shortly.



The nurse, clearly surprised that one of those girls as the staff was already calling the lot of broken whores who both brought on pity and disgust, was related to the Lucius Malfoy, nodded, her jaw a bit slack and the gossip wheels already turning in her head.



Still, Lucius had more important things to worry about this morning.



Leaving the hospital, he Apparated directly to the Ministry, checking in at the guard station and then moving quickly to the lift to go to the Minister\'s office. He was no longer welcomed with open arms, but campaign contributions were still needed and so he was tolerated. He wondered momentarily what this request was going to cost him, but found for once he didn\'t care. His daughter was worth more than money.



The lift was crowded, but carrying him swiftly to his destination, a place he\'d visited on so many occasions that it had begun to feel almost like his own office. Stepping into the foyer, he approached the receptionist, a smile pasted on his face. "Good morning, madam," he said softly, letting a hint of the pain and fatigue he was in show on purpose. "I was wondering if Minister Shacklebolt was in? I know I don\'t have an appointment, but I\'m afraid it\'s a very grave matter."







While the Malfoy\'s influence was greatly diminished from what it had been when Fudge was in office, the Malfoy pocket book was one that still opened doors and was able to squeeze an appointment in the few minutes Shaklebolt had between meetings.







Kingsley looked up, about to tell Mathilda that he didn\'t want to be disturbed but his eyes flickered past her to the guest she was ushering inside and his protests fell silent. As much as he loathed the Malfoys and their involvement in the war, as a politician - even a new one - he understood the importance of them. "Mr. Malfoy," he said, standing and gesturing to the seat across from his desk. "Please, sit. Mathilda, tea please. What brings you to my office on such short notice?" he asked turning back to Malfoy and interlacing his fingers on top of his paper strewn desk.





Lucius heaved a strictly internal sigh at the necessity of working with a politician who didn\'t grasp the rules and the subtle niceties of the job. This one, in particular, seemed to abhor the political aspects of his job. Ironic, really. Still, for his purposes today, a man who had seen what Shacklebolt had seen during the war and who had come up through the ranks of Aurors would, for once, probably be on his side.



It was a novel feeling for Lucius.



Lucius sighed, externally this time, and accepted the cup of tea from the secretary, noticing the piles of paper and thinking to himself that at least this Minister did actually work, unlike Fudge who had been a puppet at best. Of course, Fudge had been his puppet, but that was neither here nor there. Lucius appreciated the challenge a real Minister presented.



"Minister, I know your time is valuable, and this visit was, of course, rude in the extreme, calling without warning and expecting you to fit me in," Lucius began, bowing his head briefly in acknowledgment of the rudeness of his actions. "I do appreciate you seeing me on no notice."



He let his glance fall, briefly, on the Prophet sitting unrolled on the top of one of the piles, the picture of the youngest Weasley son and his daughter playing out over and over.



"Although, it seems we have a similar... concern."



For a moment, he closed his eyes and let an unguarded expression of pain flicker across his face. He had no proof, but he strongly suspected that Kingsley was at least semi-versed in the art of Legilimancy, and he wanted his emotions to lend credence to his story.



"I hate to be blunt, Slytherin that I am, but in the attempt to not take too much of your time... do you, perchance, remember the scandal that erupted during my... trial... when the auditors turned up evidence of..." he stopped. Mistress was the wrong word for Sylvia. Oh, it was the correct word, but... he hadn\'t lied when he\'d told Raven that his real life had been with her and her mother. "When they turned up evidence that I had a mistress I kept in town?" he finally asked, his distaste at the label coloring his words.



Leaning back in his comfortable chair, Kingsley regarded Lucius Malfoy for a very long moment. While he abhorred the act of Legilimancy on an unknowing and innocent (at least of being accused of a crime because Lucius Malfoy was anything but innocent) person as a gross breech of privacy, he was not averred to using a more mild less invasive form that let him sense the emotions of the person sitting across from him. It was part of the reason why he was damn good at his job.







So it was with a bit of a surprise that Kingsley sensed only raw emotions boiling beneath Malfoy\'s calm exterior and no deceit. It didn\'t mean that he should trust him, but it certainly made Kingsley want to listen to the other man. "I do," he replied, confused as to where this conversation was going. "Despite our... past, that had been confidential information that should never have been divulged to the public. On behalf of the Ministry, I apologize for the breech in security and confidentiality. The perpetrators were summarily dismissed even though there was little we could do for the damage done."



Malfoy sighed at that. "Perhaps. Although, perhaps there is something now."





He leaned back in his seat and looked at his hands, deciding that, for once, he might be best served with almost complete honesty, which for him was... unheard of.



"She wasn\'t just a mistress, Shacklebolt. Sylvia... Sylvia and I had been together eighteen years when that information was leaked. And we had a daughter."







Kingsley blinked. Then blinked again. Well shit. "Did Narcissa know this?" Shaklebolt didn\'t know the Malfoy Matriarch but from what he\'d heard from around the Ministry was all about her infamous temper behind that cold facade. Morally, he didn\'t approve of the old Pureblood standard of having a wife and keeping a mistress, having children with both, but deep inside he had to give the guy credit for being able to keep that sort of secret from his violently explosive wife.



"No. She didn\'t know. Until then. But that... is the past." He sighed again. "Someone killed Sylvia. I didn\'t know, since I was in Azkaban. I found out... yesterday. That girl," he said, indicating the paper on Shacklebolt\'s desk, "is my daughter, Raven. Whoever killed Sylvia... did that to my baby girl. She\'s at St. Mungo\'s now. But... Minister, Kingsley, I\'m afraid for her. Between those who know that she\'s my daughter, and those who... wouldn\'t want her to talk.... I can\'t lose her again, Kingsley. I can\'t fail her again." He looked down. That admission cost him, and cost him dearly. "So... I would like to request your help." He looked back up and met the other man\'s eyes. letting him see the truth there.







Well bowl me over and fuck me sideways, Kingsley thought to himself, stunned into silence at the story Malfoy had just told him as well as the raw... need in his usually impassive or cold face. He took a long moment just to process all that he\'d been told in the past few minutes because it was certainly quite a bit.







"That certainly does pose a problem for you and your daughter," he said when he was finally able to speak. "My condolences for losing your... for the death of Sylvia. An investigation will begin at once into her murder and the kidnapping and enslavement of your daughter... Raven was it? And since I\'m sure someone will start singing about Raven\'s paternity sooner or later, I will place a guard on her immediately given the... extenuating circumstances and her relationship to you. You do have some powerful enemies. I most likely would not shed a tear if one of them got to you, neither will I stand by and watch an innocent become a pawn in their revenge against you. Again."



Lucius gave a tight nod. "Thank you, Kingsley." He had no intention of assisting in the \'investigation\' if asked, but then, he doubted he\'d be asked. Or that they\'d ever uncover the truth. Two years was a bit late to be starting an inquiry. Even aided by magic. "I wish to make it clear that I have no intention of hiding her or denying my paternity, though. She is a credit to her mother. My wife knows of her. Has, since the scandal was made public. If Raven wishes to take my name, I will be happy to give it to her. And I am not concerned for my safety, nor that of my wife or son. But Raven is... exposed. And while she is not completely defenseless, she is at a distinct disadvantage, and still very much recovering from her... ordeal. I intend to spend as much time at her bedside as I can. But inevitably, I am called away."



He stood, offering the Minster his hand. "Thank you, Minister, for seeing me. And for... assisting my daughter. I am in your debt."



That ate at Lucius. He didn\'t like being in the debt of a man like Kingsley. But, for Raven....







Standing, the Minister of Magic took Malfoy\'s hand and shook it. "Think nothing of it," Kingsley replied graciously, taking the high road and not rubbing it in Malfoy\'s face. "As this is a guard detail of a more... private nature, I will pool together the names of Aurors that are not on an investigation and let you choose which one would be suited for guarding Raven. Also this will give you control over who guards her as I\'m sure you have a better finger on who is corrupt, corruptible or who has dubious ties to people who may harm Raven.







"But first before you go, a couple of stipulations: I must warn you that if there is an investigation on par with the raid on the Club, I will have to pull that Auror and you will need to make other arrangements until such a time that the Auror may return to his or her duties. It\'s unlikely, but possible. Also, this is a temporary position until it has be determined that the threat has been eliminated or has diminished. If you want a permanent bodyguard for your daughter, you will have to seek it privately. Are these conditions acceptable to you?"



One of Lucius\'s eyebrows rose, but he merely nodded. "Indeed. Although I should point out that perhaps the guard need not be only for my daughter. According to the Prophet, there were a number of women and girls taken from that place in varying degrees of... disarray. Given the... nature of their work and the... clientele they were subjected to... it might be in the best interest of all concerned to post more than one guard on the entire wing. As I said, there are a number of men who frequent such establishments and would prefer the girls never, ever name names...." he said, his distaste obvious. "Given the public outcry, I doubt anyone would complain at your ensuring the ladies\' safety."





"Please keep this in the most strictest of confidences and I honestly shouldn\'t be telling you this but since your daughter is one of the girls, you have the right to know - the MLE has Hit Wizards and Aurors in both uniforms and plain clothes in the ward and the hospital looking out for anyone suspicious." He found the reassuring smile that came to his lips genuine and was a bit surprised by that. "Short of moving them to a holding cell, the girls are as protected as they can be and still receive the care they need."





The smile Lucius returned was a bit forced. "And yet, I went to see her after hours, and was not stopped by anyone. And, loathe though I am to admit it, I do believe I should likely fall into your category of someone suspicious...." he trailed off, insinuating a failure on the part of the guards, which led to him shrugging his shoulders deprecatingly. "Granted, I have no reason to hurt any of those ladies. I may have a past, but it is not that sort. Still, I saw no one, plain clothed or otherwise, and was not questioned. Which, of course, is partly why I am here. But, Minister, I have taken enough of your time. If there is anyway I can be of service in this matter, do let me know. I... love my daughter. If salary for guards is at issue," he shrugged again, "perhaps a new wing to the hospital is in order in my daughter\'s honor."



Kingsley frowned hard at Malfoy\'s words. Such an oversight would never have happened with him as head of the MLE, but thankfully he was higher up than that he would make extra sure it wouldn\'t happen again. "I will personally speak to the Minister of the MLE about the guards and inform him of this apparent oversight. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. If you wish to donate to the hospital in Raven\'s honor, I\'m sure the director of St. Mungo\'s would be more than pleased to accept such a generous offer. I will have the list for you by the end of the day and I will owl it to you to St. Mungo\'s where I\'m sure you\'ll be staying for a while. If there is anything else I or the Ministry can do for you, please do not hesitate to call on me." He reached out and shook Malfoy\'s hand again. "Have a good day and please give my sincerest condolences to Raven for the loss of her mother."



Nodding and shaking the Minister\'s hand once more, Lucius took his cue to exit, smiling once more at the receptionist and heading to the lifts.



He didn\'t stop at the atrium, though, or leave the building. He didn\'t know if the youngest male Weasley was in, at the moment, but he decided that he should at least stop by and see.



His stomach was a bit queasy as he approached the Aurory, having some not so pleasant memories of the place, but he ignored it brazenly walking to the desk and asking the Sergent stationed there if Mr. Ronald Weasley was available, and if so, would he please let him know that Lucius Malfoy would like a word with him.



Ron looked up from the jelly donut he was contentedly munching on and licking his fingers of the powdered dust when Knox came over to him looking utterly confused. "Whath up, Knoth?" he asked around a mouthful.



"Um... Lucius... Malfoy... wants to talk to you."



If he hadn\'t just swallowed, Ron most likely would\'ve choked on his donut. "Wha?"



"Lucius Malfoy wants to talk to you. He\'s up at the front desk." Knox gestured to the front as if Ron had no idea where the front desk was, but given he was shocked enough to barely remember his name, the reminder was actually a welcome one.



"Right. Okay. Sure. Did he say why?" Ron asked as he stood, wiping his fingers on his maroon Auror robes.



"No, just that he\'d wanted to see you. Are you in trouble?"



"Fuck if I know." Ron made his way to the reception desk of the Aurory and approached Malfoy with a hint of wariness. It was funny how much more intimidating Malfoy had been when he was younger, but how less scary he was now. Not that Ron thought that he couldn\'t beat Malfoy in a duel, but when one towered over someone by a good foot and outweighed him in muscle mass by at least three or more stone, it certainly made one feel more powerful at least. "Mr. Malfoy?" he asked politely because his mother had drilled, almost literally, manners into his head. Even if he felt the other person didn\'t deserve them. "What can I do for you?"





Lucius raised an eyebrow, then inclined his head politely. "Auror Weasley, is there, perhaps, a place a bit more... private... for us to converse?" he asked carefully.





"There\'s a conference room just at the end of the hall," Ron replied stepping back and gesturing for Malfoy to follow him. They walked to the end of the hall where Ron opened the door and gestured for Malfoy to precede him. It had been all Ron could do not to reach into his robes and take out his wand or at least hold it while Malfoy walked behind him. The man didn\'t intimidate him anymore, but that didn\'t mean he didn\'t set off the post traumatic twitching, tension and nervousness. He was getting damn good at controlling it but little surprises such at this one set him off a bit. "Have a seat."



With the utmost of dignity, Lucius sat in one of the chairs along the side of the table, leaving the head for Weasley if he chose to take it and subtly telling Weasley that he wasn\'t trying to usurp control of this meeting. He doubted Weasley would catch the subtility, but it was there.



It was hard to sit there and not cringe at the cracked leather of the seats, or the slight stickiness on the table, but he was here for Raven. He had to remember that.



"Weasley..." he started again, almost choking on the name.



"Weasley, this... is not easy for me. We... personally, do not have a... friendly history. However, it seems I find myself owing you a debt of gratitude for saving my daughter\'s life," he finally managed around the lump in his throat as he thought about the picture of her on the front page of the Prophet.





Ron understood the subtle gesture, but decided to ignore it and sat across from Malfoy. It wasn\'t entirely meant as a slight, but he wouldn\'t have minded if Malfoy took it that way. He looked over at the older man as he spoke, confused. "Daughter? You don\'t have a daughter.  I mean, I know Draco can be confused for a girl sometimes, especially when he screams, but you at least should know he\'s a bloke."





Lucius fixed Weasley with his best chilling stare. He had been attempting to be serious and to offer a sincere thanks, and Weasley wanted to offer jokes. "I think I should also know if I have children other than Draco. Or are you so conservative that you think one should never acknowledge children born on the wrong side of the sheets?" he asked in a voice cold enough to freeze hell itself.



Suddenly it made sense. Malfoy had had a daughter out of wedlock with a mistress. It wasn\'t unheard of in the wizarding world and really not that big of a deal. He, personally, would never do it, but he couldn\'t exactly judge someone else for it either. He wasn\'t his mother. Ignoring the curt tone, he sighed and folded his fingers over his flat stomach, resting his elbows on the arm rests. "I\'m still not sure I understand. When did I save -" He paled as suddenly the blocks began to click into place. The familiar silver eyes. "Raven. Raven\'s your daughter."



His eyes focused from their far away expression and his jaw clenched. "Why the fuck was she in that Club?" he growled softly.





Lucius\'s irritation drained away. After Azkaban, such emotions were a waste of energy and he found it harder and harder to sustain them.





With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes. "Indeed. Raven is my daughter. As for why she was there... I am still unraveling that. When I was... sent to prison... my books were confiscated by the Ministry, and someone decided to make certain private affairs, such as the maintenance of Raven and her mother, public. It was apparently quite a scandal. I, of course, had no idea, since I was... in Azkaban at the time. But with me gone and their... existence and... relationship with me... known..." he shrugged. "Someone killed Sylvia and took Raven. I had no luck finding them when I was released last week. Their home was empty... long since empty...." he closed his eyes thinking about it. "It was only seeing her picture in the Prophet with you that I found her again. So, you see, I owe you my thanks, and my family."







Ron shifted uncomfortably. He wasn\'t sure if he wanted to have a Malfoy owe him a debt any more than he wanted to owe him one. "You\'re welcome," he murmured. "I would\'ve done it regardless, it was my duty. But you could\'ve sent me a letter or something, I\'m not sure why you\'re here."



Lucius smiled a bit sadly and inclined his head. "No, I suppose you don\'t. Someday, though, you will. Someday you\'ll have a child of your own, Weasley. Or someone dearer than your own life. Then... then you\'ll understand why a letter would never be enough to acknowledge the debt, duty or no, for why you did. You gave me the best Christmas gift a father could be given. Happy Christmas." With that, Lucius stood, once more briefly nodding his head, and left the room, leaving Weasley still sitting at the table.



Shaking his head with more confusion, he stood and returned to his cubicle, watching Malfoy leave the department with a stately stride. At least his walk hadn\'t been affected by his incarceration, but from what he\'d seen Lucius Malfoy was definitely NOT the man he had been two years ago. He had changed and Ron honestly hoped it was for the better. "Harry, I\'m going to go out for lunch. I\'ll be back later," he said throwing on his heavy wool Auror robes over his lighter indoor ones.



Harry grunted and barely looked up from whatever he was writing. He had taken to writing poetry or some shit, Ron didn\'t know but he was sure it had something to do with Hermione. Well good luck to him and all that mess.



Grabbing the inconspicuous paper bag from next to his desk and left the Ministry, heading for St. Mungo\'s. He knocked on Raven\'s door and opened it when he heard her soft response. "Hi," he said softly, smiling at her as he sat next to her bed. She looked much better but the heaviness in her eyes was still there and he suspected it would be for quite some time. "How are you? How\'re you feeling?"



Raven looked over, blinking once, then smiling at him shyly. "I\'m feeling much better today. I\'m feeling like... like this is real and I\'m not going to wake up and be... back there...." She looked at him carefully, then. "You still aren\'t supposed to be here, are you?" she asked softly, wondering what her father would say if he came back to find this boy here with her. "But... thank you for coming. It\'s nice to have a visitor. I\'m a bit tired of looking at the ceiling tiles."



"No, I\'m not supposed to be here. But I wanted to give you something." Grinning he pulled out the balloons and cake, re-sized them and set them on the rolling tray that lay over her lap. "And..." he pulled out a shrunken Christmas tree that twinkled with lights and ornaments. It was actually the tree from the flat he shared with Harry and Hermione but they had insisted he give it to Raven. Quietly, hoping she maybe wouldn\'t notice, he slipped two cards beneath the cake. He also handed her party poppers and hung a stocking stuffed with sweets off her little table. "Happy birthday and happy Christmas! Sorry they\'re a bit late. I was having trouble with the resizing charms on the tree. All those little ornaments and they all have to shrink at the same time, it\'s harder than it looks."



"That\'s all right. I was not really up to much entertaining yesterday. But I\'m feeling much better today, really." Something about this boy was infectious, and Raven found herself grinning back at Ron. "Thank you," she said softly a moment later as all the trouble he\'d go to for her really sank in. "This... I... Ron, thank you." She was actually finding herself speechless with gratitude. Her smile was bright though, and for the first time in two years, lit her eyes.



Ron suddenly found it very hard to breathe at the sight of her dazzling smile. She was stunning before but as soon as she turned on her smile, she could put any veela to shame. His ears burned with a blush at her praise and he had to duck his head and rub his neck sheepishly. "It was no problem," he mumbled. "It was the least I could do."







Shaking off his embarrassment or at least trying to, he pulled out a box of candles. "Now we have to do this the right way." He cast a silencio on the door and a detection spell that would tell him if any medi-witches or healers were going to enter her room and stood to place the candles in her cake. "Do you want me to sing? I have a completely shite voice, but I will for you," he said grinning teasingly over at her. He snapped his fingers and the candles lit themselves.



If anything, her smile grew. "Yes, I think I do, shite voice and all. After all, it isn\'t a birthday without being sung to." She batted her lashes playfully at him. "Besides, right now, you\'re too perfect for your own good. I need something to tease you about."







His ears bright pink, he cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably where he stood. "Happy birthday to you," he began, wanting very much to speed through the song but knowing he\'d feel guilty and Hermione would soundly kick his arse if he did. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Raveeeen! Happy birthday to you!"







Sitting back down, he almost beamed up at her, glad that he hadn\'t completely butchered the song with his horrid singing. "Now make a wish. But don\'t tell me. It\'s bad luck," he added quickly and with all seriousness.



A wish. One. What would she wish for? She was no fool, to want the impossible, to go back in time. But for the future? What did she wish for that?



Her eyes lit on Ron, and she smiled softly, remembering the moments of love and affection between her parents.



She could wish for that. For someone who would look past her past, her family, her associations, and just love her. Not lust after her, but care for her with the kind of tenderness and affection she\'d resigned herself to never having, even if she had ever regained her freedom. For a woman like her, tainted with a past that would never come off, she\'d long since given hope. But wishing? Perhaps that she could still do.







He smiled softly back at her smile and watched as she closed her eyes and blew out the candles all in one go. "Brilliant! That means your wish is going to come true," he said, very carefully cutting the cake with a mild cutting charm and giving her a large piece with big fat roses on it, silently thanking Hermione for remembering to pack plates and forks.







"Your father came by the Aurory this morning," he said, looking down at the cake - which was excellent but not nearly as good as his mum\'s. "He certainly isn\'t the Lucius Malfoy I remember from school. I dare say he\'s... humbler than a couple of years ago."



Raven froze. She hadn\'t thought her father would... it was one thing to....



She realized her mind was spinning out thoughts as she desperately tried to make sense of this.



He\'d said he was choosing her, but she hadn\'t really thought he\'d meant to claim her publicly. His reputation would be destroyed.  At least, that\'s what he\'d always said to her mother when they hadn\'t known she could hear them arguing.



"Did he," she finally said, finding her voice, even if it did seem a trifle high in pitch.







"Mmmhmm," he replied, looking up at her squeak. She looked pale and scared, though he wasn\'t sure of what. "He wanted to personally thank me for saving you. Are you alright? I got the impression from what he said that you and he were close, but..."







His face darkened and a sliver of fear for Raven slid down his spine, pooling in his stomach. "He didn\'t lie to me did he? Was he the one who put you in the Club? Because if he was, just let me know and I\'ll bring him in personally and throw his ass back in Azkaban so fast he won\'t know what hit him. And he won\'t be able to ferret his way out this time. He\'ll never see the light of day." Which would be far too good for the likes of Malfoy. If he had thrown his only daughter in that shit hole, death would be preferred to what Ron wanted to do to him. His body was tense and poised on the edge of his seat, ready to hunt down Lucius Malfoy.



"What?" she asked, confused for a moment before she followed what he was saying. "NO! Oh, Merlin, no, Ron. He... no. He had nothing to do with it," she exclaimed, leaping to her father\'s defense. "No, I just... I\'m surprised, is all. He... he\'s never... claimed me, before. Publicly, I mean. In the eyes of the Ministry, I... have no father."







Ron\'s heart instantly went out to her. His mother was a nag and his father was often very busy working and struggling to support a large family on one income, but they loved him and he loved them. They never failed in letting everyone know how much they loved their children even if they did drive them absolutely around the twist. The Weasleys may have been poor, but at least everyone knew that they were well loved. He couldn\'t comprehend a parent not loving their child enough to claim them to the world. If he were ever a father, he knew he\'d be so damn proud and so in love with that child that they\'d have to permanently seal his mouth shut from crowing about it.







"Well... you do now," he said softly, giving her a smile as he relaxed back into his chair again. He shook his head, his smile slipping a little. "I don\'t understand how a parent could not claim their child. Like you were something to be ashamed of. I especially can\'t see that with Malfoy after our conversation today."



Raven shrugged. "You can love someone very much, but for a number of reasons be unable or unwilling to acknowledge it. I knew he loved me, even if he couldn\'t show it in public. Last night... last night when he found me, he said that he was done hiding me. That he... chose me. But... I didn\'t really expect him to do it publicly. That... that is quite a birthday present," she murmured, tears standing in her silver eyes.







He nearly panicked again at the sight of those tears, but something inside him told him that these were good, happy tears. Why women cried at the drop of a hat was beyond him, but he figured it had something to do with the intense emotional upheaval Raven had had to deal with the past couple of days. "I\'m glad to see you smiling," he murmured, grinning himself. "So how have you been? Did the healers say when you\'ll be released? And did you talk about arrangements with Mal - your father for when you are released?"



She nodded slowly. "He wants me to come live with him. That, or live in one of the townhouses in London. I\'m not sure which I\'ll do, to be honest. I\'m not sure I could live with Narcissa and Draco, although he said he\'d take care of it. But I don\'t really fancy living alone in London, either. But I have until after the new year to decide. They won\'t release me for at least that long, since they want some of the senior healers to look at me, and most of them are on vacation for the holidays."







Ron grimaced sympathetically. "Too bad they can\'t release you and then have you come in later so the healers can look at you. Spending your holidays in the hospital aren\'t the best way to spend them." Already his mind was working on a plan to cheer her up for the New Year and he wondered if Harry and Hermione wanted to join him. He looked over at Raven and took another slice of cake. "I\'m trying to get on the team that will be questioning you and the other girls here at St. Mungo\'s, but I\'m having a hard time of it since I\'m low man on the broomstick and I have zero pull. I can\'t even use my name or my fame... which is good I suppose, but ultimately frustrating when I really want something. So I might be observing, but I don\'t think I\'ll be able to question you when the time comes."



Raven looked at him carefully a moment. "Why would you want to? None of it will make for pretty hearing, and... you seem like a nice man, Ron. I... I wouldn\'t want your good opinion of me to change, were you to hear some of the things I\'ve done," she said quietly.







"Done to you," Ron corrected just as quietly. "I\'ve read just a few of the interviews from the women we\'ve already questioned and released and...." His stomach churned and the cake was far less appetizing now. He set the plate carefully on her table. "And any girl who would willingly stay in that hellhole and willingly participate in even some of the more mild things I\'ve read, she would have to be seriously fucked in the head."







He looked over at her, his eyes filled with nothing but sympathy and sadness for her. "Whatever happened to you, my opinion of you will never go down. I won\'t be on the interviews anyway but if you... ever want to talk about it and just have someone listen, I\'m here. I\'m better at listening than talking anyway since I seem to have a bad habit of putting my foot in my mouth."



She couldn\'t meet his eyes if he knew even a fraction of the things she\'d done to survive in that place. Only some of them had been done to her. Some... some she\'d found that if she sought out, things might be better, for a time. And... a time or two... they\'d even been pleasurable. What would he say, if he ever learned that? It was one of her deepest secrets, that sometimes, no matter how much her mind screamed no, her body screamed louder....







There he went, shoving his foot in his mouth though he wasn\'t entirely certain what he\'d said to upset her. Hesitantly, he reached out and took her hand laying limply on the bed beside her. "I\'m sorry," he murmured, holding her hand as if it were spun glass. He didn\'t want her to startle and be hurt jerking away from him. "Whatever I said, I\'m sorry."



She still couldn\'t look at him, and she felt bad, like she\'d spoiled something. "Ron, you\'re too innocent to sit in on the interviews," she finally said. "I don\'t think you could listen and not... misjudge. You... don\'t have the experience or the perspective to understand what it was like there. It\'s all black or white, good or bad, us or them. But life... life doesn\'t work that way. Believe me, if you knew a fraction of what went on there, you\'d never speak to me again." But she didn\'t care. She wouldn\'t care. She brought her chin up bravely. She wouldn\'t, because he hadn\'t been there or lived through what she had.



Carefully, she extricated her hand, looking at the scars that still shone whitely around her wrists from the ropes they\'d used, and sighed. "I appreciate you coming here, but I think it would be best if you left. I don\'t want you to get in trouble on my account."





Feeling as though he\'d been slapped and rejected, he took his hand back and stood. Silently, he cleaned up the plates and forks, banishing the trash to the bins. "Happy Christmas and birthday," he murmured, giving her a hesitant glance before slipping out of her room. Right. Okay. Fine. That was just... okay, he thought to himself. He\'d been rejected romantically before, but he\'d never had his friendship rejected and he\'d found that it hurt worse than the other kind. At the elevators, he gave her door one last glance before the doors slid shut.





Raven watched him leave feeling a bit sad, though not terribly repentant. It had only been the truth. His judgment had hurt as much as her words had. With a soft sigh, she turned over and forced herself to do as the healers had ordered: rest.



****



David waited as the red-head left, recognizing the young Auror from all the pictures in the paper. He hadn\'t been terribly surprised by the red-head\'s infatuation with his patient. She was very beautiful, with that long hair and silver eyes. Striking.



When he\'d noticed that soon after the Auror went into the room all sound coming from it ceased, he\'d tried the door, finding it locked. A smirk crossed his face then. Apparently the young whore wasn\'t really as opposed to plying her trade as she\'d attempted to persuade her caretakers. That, or she was a fame and fortune hunting gold-digger who wanted an easy path out and thought she\'d found one in the famous Auror with the sterling reputation to match those eyes....



Well, if she were offering her wares, David was not at all opposed to sampling them.



She wasn\'t the first of the girls who was offering herself to the highest bidder, after all.



David just had no intention of paying.



After Weasley left, he waited a bit, then slid into the room, shutting the door behind him and reactivating the silencing charm. Smiling, he noticed that she seemed to be asleep, and crossed the room to her bed.



She really was quite beautiful.



One hand reached for her face, cupping her cheek as his thumb stroked across her cheekbone.



Licking his lips in anticipation, he began to quickly and methodically fold back the covers, making the girl start a bit in surprise.



"What..." Raven asked, groggily waking up from a lovely dream to find one of her healers in the room with her.



"Just need to see how you are, Raven," David told her reassuringly, his smirk growing wider at the double entendre.



She sensed something was off, but wasn\'t sure what. not until he began lifting her dress, his hands intimately sliding up her legs. "What are you doing?" she asked, trying to pull away but finding it hard to maneuver, her legs tangling in the sheets.



David frowned at the high pitch of her voice, at her struggles, but the frown smoothed out. Struggles could be a fun game, too. Under his breath he murmured the spell to activate the bed restraints for patients, his impassive face beginning to smile as the leather bands encircled her wrists, binding them at her sides, while two other bands slid across her chest, one over and one under her breasts. They pulled the thin linen of her gown tight and left nothing to the imagination, her nipples standing out hard against the fabric.



Raven felt the bonds and began to struggle in earnest, screaming in her already harsh and abused voice.



The screams made David chuckle, glad he\'d noticed the earlier charm. "You like to scream, do you? That explains the vocal damage we noted," he said clinically as he stepped back from the bed, beginning to unfasten his robes and trousers so that he could free his quickly hardening cock.



Raven\'s eye grew wide, the whites showing all around as she admitted to herself what was happening. That this was happening, wasn\'t merely a nightmare. That no one was coming and....



A great glistening tear formed in her eye and slowly tracked it\'s path down her cheek.



David watched it, fascinated at the play of color and light in the droplet of water.



"You\'re even beautiful when you cry. Not many women are, you know. It explains why they liked hurting you."



He knelt between her legs, nudging them apart with his knee and positioning another strap to keep them where he wanted them while he ripped the linen of her nightey open to bare her breasts.





Satisfied with his position, he sank into her waiting warmth, moving quickly as his hips began to pump into her, watching fascinated as her breasts bounced while her ribs were immobilized by the bands.



Raven tried to hold back the tears, tried to just lay there hoping he\'d finish soon, but she couldn\'t. It started with a single tear, which led to another, then another until she shook with suppressed sobs. Finally, even her will gave out, and she sobbed for real, gasping and choking.





Her tears weren\'t for the pain of the actions; what he didn\'t wasn\'t actually painful.





Her tears were for the betrayal as, once more, she couldn\'t protect herself and no one was there to protect her.



It seemed like ages passed before he finished, emptying his loins into her with a grunt, his sweat dripping onto her so that she could smell him in her pores, making her shudder with distaste.





Stepping back from the bed, he adjusted his clothing before mending her nightgown and pressing a kiss to her lips.





"Obliviate," he murmured, stepping back and watching as her eyes grew distant. When he was sure the spell had taken, he muttered a cleaning charm to destroy the evidence and released the bonds, sauntering happily from the room and deciding then and there that Raven would be receiving plenty of private medical attention....



*****



Lucius had wanted to go directly from the Ministry to the hospital but found he had other pressing matters to attend to like setting up the house for Raven - and himself if he were being honest - in London and setting up accounts with all of the relevant shops he thought Raven might want to go to in Diagon Alley and then finally getting a key so she could access the vault he had set up years ago. That had taken longer than he wanted, but finally, two hours later, he walked into the hospital with a bag of food for himself and Raven to enjoy. Merlin knew where they cooked at the hospital or what they made their food out of, but he was definitely not going to find out.



Knocking on the door and entering a short moment later, he smiled over at Raven, frowning with confusion at the balloons, cake, miniature Christmas tree and two cards sitting on the table pushed to the side next to Raven\'s bed. "Good afternoon," he said sitting on the chair next to her bed. "Who came to visit you today?"



When she looked over at him, he noticed that her eyes were a bit hazy and distant and she looked more than a little confused, but he brushed it off to the various potions she must be on. "Are you alright, princess?" he asked worriedly, wondering what sort of pain medication she must be under to look so out of it.



"I..." she started, fighting the muzzy feeling in her head, shaking her head like she could shake it off, frowning.... Distracted, she sniffed the air. "Did you bring breakfast?" she asked finally. "I\'m starving. I don\'t think I slept all that well. I\'m a little sore this morning."



That worried him even further as a tremor of unease slid up his back. "Love, we ate breakfast hours ago. It\'s lunch time now." He nodded to the clock on the wall opposite Raven that said, You should be eating right now, aren\'t you hungry?. "And who brought you the gifts?"



She frowned. "Gifts?" she asked, confused. "I... I don\'t remember." Looking around, her eyes lighted on the tree and cards and she frowned harder. "Papa, what\'s going on?" she asked, fear evident in her voice.



The unease was turning into full on fear as he leaned forward and noticed the slightly damp and dry tear tracks on her face. "I don\'t know, but I intend to find out," he growled softly. Standing, he brushed a tender hand over her head and kissed her forehead softly before turning and leaving her room.



Marching up to the medi-witch station, he glowered at the first medi-witch he saw. "My daughter is missing memory from this morning to now. That\'s a total of six hours. Who has been in her room and what were they doing in there? Also I want a Healer in her room now. I want her tested for any memory erasing or altering potions or drugs and an oblivation. Is that understood?"



The medi-witch looked stubborn like she was going to fight him on all of that, but Lucius glared even more fiercely and the woman finally caved. "I\'ll send someone right in and I\'ll check around to see if anyone has entered Raven\'s room or not this morning."



"That is acceptable," Lucius replied with a nod before turning and moving back to Raven\'s room.



"We\'ll get to the bottom of this," he told her softly, reaching out to gently take her hand.



She was shivering with fear as she looked up and met his eyes and slowly nodded, getting more scared as she picked up on his fear. Holding his hand as if it were a lifeline, she closed her eyes and tried to remember, more and more afraid when the last thing she could remember clearly was sitting in his lap the night before.



An older woman bustled in a moment later and seemed surprised to find Lucius in the room.



"I\'m Healer Kettlewythe. What seems to be the concern?" she asked when she found her composure once more.



"I walked in here about five minutes ago to find this," he gestured to the gifts and left over cake. "But my daughter is unable to tell me who gave them to her. She asked what we were having for breakfast and she seems completely confused as to what time it is. She had a hazy, fuzzy look to her which I thought was pain medication but now I\'m beginning to believe was something else. I want this explained."



The Healer frowned thoughtfully and came over to the other side of Raven\'s bed and waved her wand over the girl\'s body. "Raven, what was the last thing you remember in any great detail? And what was the last thing you think you remember, no matter how vague the memory might be?" she asked as she conducted her thorough examination.







"I... I remember Papa coming in last night and us talking about... well, everything. But... I don\'t remember anything after falling asleep that I could say I didn\'t dream. I... I vaguely remember Ron coming with the tree and singing happy birthday to me... but... that feels like a dream. Although..." she looked over at the presents, "that could just be foggy...."



The healer frowned as she found a somewhat botched memory charm on the girl and did her best to remove it, but it hadn\'t suppressed memories so much as destroyed a portion of them.



Raven gasped as parts of her morning returned to her conscious mind; breakfast with her father, cake and the fight with Ron, him leaving with his feelings hurt, and her deciding to nap again. But beyond that... nothing.







"She\'s been obliviated," the healer said watching with the charms she had placed on Raven as part of the girl\'s memories returned. "Why, I\'m not sure. I\'m going to perform a complete phyisical on you, alright? Lie back and try to hold still."







Once Raven was fully reclined, Kettlewythe ran her wand over her body, thoroughly examining the girl with her chart in hand looking for any discrepancies. "There is... evidence of sexual activity," Kettlewythe murmured, frowning to herself. "But no semen.... She also has some small, faint bruises on her wrists and legs indicating she was held down with the bed restraints." Sighing softly, she shook her head and closed her eyes a moment with disgust and fury. "This is disgusting -" she said, her nose flaring. "Mr. Malfoy... it seems your daughter...."





Lucius shook his head, indicating she didn\'t need to say it, he already knew, and by the dawning look of pain on Raven\'s face, so did she.







"Healer Kettlewythe? Mr. Malfoy?" The medi-witch from the station leaned into the room and looked at everyone. "I\'ve asked around the floor and other than Mr. Malfoy, there was one other visitor. Ronald Weasley came in for about twenty minutes then left. Other than that, only Healers and Medi-witches have seen Raven during the day."







"Thank you, Marcie," Kettlewythe murmured. "I\'m still uneasy about this. Raven, you said that Mr. Weasley came to see you. What can you tell us about his visit? Did he do this?"







Even Lucius, a highly suspicious, borderline paranoid, man was having a hard time believing that Weasley would\'ve raped his daughter, but... he did have a volatile temper... who knew what he was capable of.



But Raven shook her head no, her eyes wide. "No... he... he brought me the cake and the tree and the balloons... he sang happy birthday for me.... We talked a bit, and he said something about..." she stopped, her tummy doing a flip. "He said something about the girls not being at fault for what happened to them, that... he made some broad generalizations that... I asked him to leave... and he did. I could see him get on the elevator. I was annoyed at him for being so... idealistic... so... innocent... but that\'s all. I decided to nap and... the next thing I know, Papa was back...."



"It\'s okay, calm down," Kettlewythe murmured soothingly at Raven\'s growing panic. "We\'ll get to the bottom of this. For now, I will have the Aurors post a guard directly outside your room and I will personally assign the healers and medi-witches to your room."







"Be sure to check the other girls," Lucius spoke up softly, feeling a cold anger harden inside him. He didn\'t trust the Aurors one bit as they should have prevented this but there was very little he could do short of live in Raven\'s room with her. And as much influence as he had he knew he wouldn\'t be able to get away with that.







"I will. Immediately. For now, I\'m going to give you a potion to drink to help heal any internal damage and calm you down. The first you must take, but the calming draught you don\'t have to take if you don\'t want to. Still, I would recommend it. It won\'t put you to sleep, but it will help you feel better."







Raven gave the healer a hard look. "No. It won\'t. It will make me feel distant and detached and I have had enough of that," she said, something snapping inside of her as the full ramifications hit of what had happened. Again. "I am not staying here another night. Papa, I want a wand, and I want out of this place. I\'m tired of being treated like a child who doesn\'t know what\'s good for her and has done something naughty, and I\'m tired of being looked at with all that false pity when people really just want to gossip. I don\'t care where we go, but get me out of here."







"Mr. Malfoy I must protest -" Healer Kettlewythe began but Lucius cut her off, standing.







"No, you will not protest," he said softly, his voice as hard as granite. "I am taking my daughter home where I know without a shadow of a doubt that she\'ll be safe. I\'ll hire a private healer, one that I can trust implicitly instead of trusting her to your sorely lacking facilities and staff. I pity the poor girls who have to stay. Now, you will discharge her into the care of Healer Lavoy. He has been the Malfoy family healer for two generations and I would trust him with my life. Is that clear?"







It looked as though Kettlewythe was going to protest again, but instead wisely kept her mouth shut. "Yes sir," she sighed, turning and leaving the room.







"Until I know you\'re safe, I\'ll be getting you a bodyguard. The Minister and I have talked about it already," Lucius said softly, turning back to his daughter. Taking her hand, he gave it a squeeze and a reassuring smile. "I won\'t hear any protests about that, all right?"



Slowly, she nodded. "All right. But only until I can deal with... problems... myself. It shouldn\'t take me long," she said, some of the fire that had originally attracted Lucius to her mother beginning to shine in her eyes. "Mama taught me... about my heritage. How to use it to defend myself. Now that the bloody collar is gone..." she shivered at the remembered touch of the steel locked around her throat.







"Good. I wasn\'t half bad at duelling, I can help you brush up on your wand skills also." So much like her mother, his heart ached for Sylvia. He hadn\'t given himself time to grieve just yet... he was almost afraid of it and what it would do to him. It was enough that he\'d failed his daughter. Again. The confidence he had projected to the Healer faltered then faded. "I\'ve failed you again, haven\'t I."







He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "I should stop making such promises. Except I will find who did this to you and when I do, he will die."



"Papa, you didn\'t fail me. Not this time. This place did. The authorities did. But you didn\'t. You shouldn\'t have to worry about me here," she said softly. "But... I don\'t want that promise from you. I\'d rather we go hunting together." She bit her lip a moment. "And not just for who did it this time. There were... a few others... who...." she trailed off, wondering where this predatory streak was coming from. From the veela heritage? They were a bit bloody minded. Or from her experiences? Frankly, she didn\'t know or care. The though made her feel alive and in control, and the more she thought about it, the more determined she became. "You know the Ministry will never do anything about it. Not beyond what they already have. Too many of their own would be caught with their pants down. Literally."



A slow smirk pulled at Lucius\' lips. Casting a quick silencing charm on the room, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "I love the way your mind works. You are truly a Malfoy," he said proudly. "We can go hunting if you wish. I must say I would enjoy visiting the swine you had to suffer. But once you\'re healed. Plus this will give us time to work up a plan. But if we\'re going to do this, I\'ll have to make other arrangements. The minister was going to have a list of Aurors I could choose from to employ as your bodyguard, but I\'d much rather have someone I can pay to look away than possibly a bloody Gryffindor who would feel compelled to stick his or her nose where it doesn\'t belong and report us."



"No, Papa, that would look suspicious," she started, stopping abruptly when the healer suddenly opened the door with papers for her to sign, accepting responsibility for her own care since she was leaving against the healers\' recommendations. "I\'ll make sure the gown is returned to you, but I\'m afraid I\'m going to have to wear it home. Unless you\'d rather I leave wearing nothing like when I arrived?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.







Lucius snapped his fingers and a House Elf appeared almost instantly, bowing so low its stubby nose brushed the ground. "Master called, sir?"







"I need a set of robes for Raven. Now," Lucius commanded. The House Elf squeaked softly before winking out of sight. While Raven finished signing the paper work, the Elf returned with a pile of neatly folded and elegant robes, underclothes, socks and boots. "Is that all master sir?"







"That is all for now. Is the house in London prepared?"







"We are putting the final touches now, master sir!" the House Elf responded eagerly.







"Good. You may go." Lucius handed the clothes to Raven and grinned, before giving Kettlewythe a sneer. "Are we concluded here then?"







Kettlewythe sighed again and nodded. "She may go."



Raven, for all her recent experiences, had long since lost any sense of body-modesty, and quickly stripped off the scratchy linen of the hospital issue gown, sighing in happiness as she slid into the soft silk underthings the elves had provided. She noticed as the healer turned beet red, and it amused her greatly. She decided not to look at her father, though. She didn\'t really want to see his reaction.





Once she was clothed, she turned around, gathering up her long hair and twisting it into a knot at the back of her head before turning back to her father.



"Can we get a wand while the elves finish setting up... quarters?"







Lucius cut his eyes away and looked at the ceiling while his daughter dressed. He was more than a little surprised that she would strip in front of both him and the healer without any hint of shyness but chalked it up to her being comfortable with both of them, him being her father and the healer being both a healer and a woman. "Yes, we can take a trip to Ollivander\'s as well as Madam Malkin\'s for your wardrobe. Or at least for a few robes that would tie you over until you\'re able to shop for yourself."







He could tell the healer wanted to protest her activity, but was mildly impressed that she held her tongue. With one last worried look at Raven, Kettlewythe left the room, leaving the door open behind her.







"What about your things? Do you wish to take them with you?" he asked, picking up the cards and handing them to her but gesturing to the rest of the gifts Weasley had given her.







Raven looked at the cards a moment, then slowly nodded. "Please," she said softly. "It was nice to have him come by and think of me as... a friend. I would like to look at the cards later. Once I\'m somewhere... safe."



She turned and beamed up at her father, taking two steps so that she was right in front of him and slid her arms around his waist. "Apparate us, Papa?" she asked softly into his chest like she had as a child.







With a wave of his wand, he shrunk the left over cake and balloons down and placed them in the bag that Weasley had left behind. Sliding his arms around his daughter, he kissed the top of her head and hugged her tightly. "As soon as we get to the Apparating point," he murmured, keeping his arm around her as they walked to the Apparating point on the floor and left.







When they reached Diagon Alley, he let her go with a kiss to her forehead. "Time to let everyone know what I wish I\'d told them ages ago," he said, looking down at her with his eyes full of pride.



She looked up at him, tears in her eyes and a blush on her cheeks. "You... you don\'t know what that means to me," she finally said, fighting to keep the tears from falling. "I love you, Papa," she said, taking his hand as they walked, slowly because of her condition, towards Ollivanders.







"I love you too, princess," he murmured, walking slowly along side her. People were looking at him curiously, some openly, some just casting furtive, confused glances. He could almost read their thoughts; who was that girl and was he cheating on Narcissa with her? Sooner or later he was going to have reporters knocking on his door, but instead of dreading it, he looked forward to it. At least this way he would be able to proudly proclaim Raven as his own and the whole world would know that the men who had visited her in the Club would soon be dead. Well, in so many words.







Opening the door for Raven and ushering her inside, a soft hush fell over them as the door closed. This old place brought back many memories, most of them not so great. "It would perhaps be best if I waited for you outside," Lucius murmured, hoping Ollivander would take his time in coming out to greet them. "Ollivander and I do not share a... pleasant past to say the least."



Remembering at least a bit of what had transpired during the war, she nodded her agreement and took a seat on an old rickety stool while she waited for the proprietor and wondering if her father was going to regret his haste when his wife saw the article she was sure was soon coming after their excursion of the day.



But as a soon as she thought it, she dismissed the concern. He loved her, he\'d chosen her. He\'d already made the relationship public at the Ministry. The rest of the world would soon know, too.



She gave a little start of surprise as a wizened looking man with the appearance of an owl came out of a back room. His step was even slower than hers.



She had the impression that he was looking at her soul as she sat there as still as a statue on her chair.





"Ahhh... Raven Iris. Or shall I call you Malfoy now?" Ollivander asked glancing out the door where he could see Malfoy Sr. loitering just beyond. His lips tightened as he remembered his incarceration in the Malfoy cellar beneath their front room. Turning back to the girl, he gave her a warm smile and brushed aside such thoughts. He may loath Malfoy and his ilk, but he couldn\'t turn that loathing on an innocent girl. "Holly, dragon heart string, just a little bit of give. Perfect for transfiguration. Has something happened to your wand? Do you need a new one?"



Raven bit her lip a moment, then nodded. "Yes, sir. It seems that... it seems that it was broken, sir, while I was away," she finally said, not wanting to divulge where she\'d been away if someone who had known her had actually missed her picture on the front page of the Prophet. Although, she wouldn\'t put it passed him to play innocent to protect her, either. "And so, I am here hoping that you can work your magic once more and find me a replacement...."







"Ah, but it\'s your magic that chooses your replacement," Ollivander replied kindly. "Please. Sit. I will bring out some candidates for you to try."







Gripping his cane, he went to shuffle off to the back to go wand hunting. The trick was to start with a similar wand as her previous one and work from there. He, of course, had seen her picture in the paper, carried by the youngest Weasley boy so he knew some of her \'absence\' had entailed and those emotional upheavals tended to change ones magic. It was subtle, but enough that often a new wand would be needed.







Picking and choosing a few boxes and setting them to float behind him, he carefully selected new holly wood and dragon heart string cores but also threw in a teak with a phoenix feather core and a few more exotic choices. When he returned to where Raven was sitting at the counter, he had a total of fifteen boxes. "Try those first and if they don\'t work, we\'ll try some more," he said floating the boxes in front of her.



The first one she tried, the box on top, looked and felt very much like her old wand. Comfortable, really. But when she tried to use it, the spell seemed almost to hesitate instead of leaping forth to do its mistress\'s bidding. Frowning, she looked at Ollivander for reassurance, and he was quick to give it, shaking his head with a smile and pushing the next box towards her.



This, too, felt similar, but not right. The joy and the sense of finding a soulmate wasn\'t there as she touched it. And while, once more, the spell worked, it was hesitant.



Raven tried not to feel discouraged as she tried wand after wand and it wasn\'t until she was on the thirteenth that she found one that gave the pleasant tingle of rightness as she took it out of the box.







"Ahh. Alder, ten inches, phoenix feather core, pliable, but not too rigid," Ollivander murmured, grinning at the young girl. "That is a very strong wand. The Celts believed that Alder gave the bearer strength and endurance and I\'ve found that those wands usually seek out passionate people, those who throw themselves into things with all their being. The phoenix feather will hopefully keep you safe should your passions burn you or burn out. It is a good wand."







Or if you\'re reinventing yourself from the ashes.... she couldn\'t help but think. She didn\'t want to put the wand down, it felt so right in her fingers, and it had been so long since she\'d held one. "Can I sign for it? Papa didn\'t say if he changed the accounts to add my name yet," she asked softly, not wanting to make the kind old man deal with her father if he didn\'t have to.



Ollivander nodded. "You can, of course," he replied, his smile never wavering. "Just tap your wand to this bill and you can be on your way." He slid over the small slip and sat back. It was always his most favorite part, when a new owner performed their first magic with their new wand.



Smiling, she tapped her wand to the slip of paper and watched as her mark was made, authorizing the transfer of funds.



"Thank you," she said, flashing him her brightest smile, feeling more alive and like herself than she had in the last two years, no matter what had happened that morning. She had a wand again. Somehow, that made her feel whole.



"Any time," the old wand maker replied kindly. "Have a good day, Miss Malfoy."



Lucius looked up from where he was staring absently across the alley and smiled at the sight of Raven. She looked radiant with her wand in hand, like she\'d just had her wildest dreams come true. The pang came suddenly, nearly making him gasp. She looked so much like her mother at that moment, it hurt. "We haven\'t had lunch yet. Would you like to eat first before we go shopping?" he asked, shaking off the pain as he held out his arm for her to take.



She frowned slightly, then it cleared as she smiled. "We haven\'t, had we? I forgot in the... in the rush. Yes, let\'s eat something. I\'m much less worried about clothing than I was about a wand. Where would you like to go?" she asked looking up at her father.



"My favorite restaurant is just down the Alley," he said guiding them back towards Gringotts and Knockturn Alley. They stepped inside a very inconspicuous doorway that most people just passed without a second thought. Beyond the doorway was Great Britain\'s most exclusive restaurant. Only Purebloods were allowed and even then they had to be of a certain rank and wealth to even step in the lobby. Lucius was unconcerned that Raven would not be allowed in as he was close to the owner, having saved his arse many times during their campaign with Voldemort. An ex-Death Eater would be loathed to deny another ex-Death Eater with a life debt on his hands anything. "Welcome to The Gray Garden."



She stepped into the lobby and stopped, looking around in surprise at the lush interior compared to the drab exterior. Just then a perfectly groomed maitre\'d with impeccably tailored robes and slicked back hair stepped into the lobby. He looked at Raven with a raised eyebrow, then turned his attention to Lucius. "Monsieur?" he asked, looking between the two.



"A table for two. Preferably next to the windows," Lucius replied, silently daring the twerp to say something, anything that would give him good cause to hex his snooty nose up his arse.



The maitre\'d looked between the two of them again and sighed. He was a Malfoy and a valued customer at The Gray Garden despite his relationship with the owner. "Zis way, monsieur, mademoiselle," he said turning and leading them into the sparsely populated restaurant. The size of the place was a trick of the eye as was the number of people eating. It helped give people a sense of intimacy and privacy than if the place were packed.



The waiter and maitre\'d held out their chairs and promptly served them water and their menus. "Their poached sole is phenomenal," he murmured, looking over his menu.



She didn\'t look up at her menu, briefly closing her eyes. "Papa, after what I\'ve had the last two years, the hospital food was phenomenal," she told him quietly. "I\'m almost afraid to eat here."



Looking up from his menu, he reached over and covered his hand with hers. "Then get something light. I would recommend the vegetables and salmon. The vegetables are braised in olive oil and the salmon is very light. They don\'t load it down with rich sauces. I would probably stay away from their desserts though. Those are very very rich."



She nodded, looking up then. "I will. Besides, I still have birthday cake for when we get home," she said with a grin. "Ron had a terrible singing voice. Yours is much better. Will you sing to me, too?" she asked hopefully just as the waiter returned to take their order.



"I\'d love to," he replied, smiling as the waiter waited patiently for them to give him their orders. "I\'ll have the steak avec frites and she\'ll have the poached salmon and braised vegetables. I\'ll have the red 1920 and she\'ll have the white 1935."



"At once," he replied, bowing to them both before taking their menus and disappearing into the back of the restaurant.



Raven watched him go, then turned to her father.



"So, Papa, where do we go from here? Not shopping wise, but... you said a townhouse in London. Just the two of us? Have you... have you talked to Narcissa yet? Or Draco? Or are you going to let them... discover all of this from the Prophet?" she asked, picking up the glass of wine that had appeared in front of her and taking a dainty sip. It was strong and on her weakened constitution, she knew if would go right to her head.



"I haven\'t had a chance to speak to either of them, but I will once you\'re settled in the house. Even I\'m not so disrespectful as to leave it up to the Daily Prophet to tell them that I\'ve essentially moved out of the Manor to take care of my daughter," he said sipping the excellent wine. "There probably won\'t be any news in the evening edition but I\'m sure there will be in the morning. Narcissa will have a harder time of it than Draco. Would you like to meet your brother?"



She didn\'t have to think about that long before nodding yes. "I think I would. If you think he\'d like to meet me... if you think he could accept... all of this...." she said softly. "I suppose on some level, he doesn\'t have a choice." She looked down. "But, Papa, I think you should know that... some of his friends...." she wondered if she\'d have to finish that sentence, or if Lucius would be able to finish it for himself.



He figured as much. "I know, love. I know," he sighed sadly. "But he won\'t be living with us unless you\'d like him to so you won\'t ever have to see his friends. And even if you do, I dare them to try anything in our home. Plus you\'ll have your bodyguard for when you go out. As for him accepting everything... that I honestly couldn\'t tell you. I know he\'s changed his priorities around but I don\'t know how well he would have shaken off the snobberies and prejudices I\'d instilled in him through his childhood. I hope he is willing to love you as I do, but...."



Their food appeared in front of them, steam and delicious scents wafting up to them.



She nodded her understanding as she lifted the correct fork and took a neat bite of her salmon. Closing her eyes as the delicate flavors melted on her tongue she sighed happily.



She didn\'t speak, merely sat quietly and enjoyed her food, the first decent meal she\'d eaten in so long. "I\'m glad now that they put that picture in the paper. I wasn\'t, when I first found out. I was embarrassed. But... if that\'s how you found me again, then it was worth it. I wasn\'t sure, when I woke up and they asked if I had someone they should contact, if I was allowed... if I should... give them your name. I didn\'t. I didn\'t want to cause you any trouble...."



He inwardly winced at that but understood her reasoning. He hadn\'t exactly acknowledged her when she had been... whole, it was logical that she would doubt that he would acknowledge her... tainted. "I understand, but now you know better. When I hadn\'t heard anything from Sylvia or you and when I walked into that townhouse and it had been long deserted I thought that she had left with you and I\'d never see you again. I now wish that Sylvia had left with you and I\'d never see you again if it meant that you were safe and unharmed. Don\'t get me wrong, I\'m very very glad that you are here with me now but I wish our reunion had been under better circumstances."



"I wish mum were here," she said, the words slipping out before she realized what she said. Biting her lip, she met his eyes. "She... she would have liked this. Us sitting together, out for the world to see. I think, wherever she is now, she\'s happy," she told him, then smiled. "I would like Draco to accept me, but I can understand why he wouldn\'t. So long as you do, I don\'t care what he says."



"I\'d like to think that too. About your mother I mean," he replied with a small sad smile. "I\'d like for you and Draco to get along, but if you don\'t, it isn\'t the end of the world. There are plenty of siblings who don\'t get along together. I just hope... that he will accept you because that will mean that he has changed... for the better perhaps and isn\'t destined to follow my path somewhere down the road."



A few more bites and she finished the salmon, although she still had half a glass of the wine.



"I don\'t think I am up to shopping more today," she said softly. "I think I just want to go home and sleep. It will be nice to be able to sleep without wondering what..." she trailed off, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. "To have a comfortable bed that doesn\'t smell like the hospital," she finished lamely. "Are you going to go home and talk to Narcissa?"



He frowned at her slip, but didn\'t call it to attention. "Once you\'re asleep, yes. I feel uncomfortable leaving you in the house alone, but I\'ll have the House Elves watching and the wards on the house are top of the line and Gringott\'s grade. It would take an evil overlord to take them down and there don\'t seem to be any of them walking around anymore. I\'d bring Draco back with me for you to meet, but I don\'t want to overwhelm you with visitors and I have a feeling you\'ll be quite tired when we get home. If he\'s willing, I can have him call on us tomorrow if you like."



She nodded her agreement. "I\'d almost rather meet him somewhere... neutral. If there is a... problem... I\'d rather not have it be where I\'ll be living. I\'d rather not be called... names... where I\'ll be staying to have the constant memory and association. Not that he will, mind. I just... I\'ve learned some lessons the hard way, and I\'d rather anticipate the worst."







Lucius nodded, thinking about somewhere neutral and yet private. There really weren\'t many options, though they could come here... it was relatively neutral, very private and Draco would be less inclined to make a scene in public than in the privacy of either home. "I\'ll ask him to lunch tomorrow; we can come here and... chat and enjoy a nice relaxing meal." I hope. "How is your stomach? Do you like the salmon?"



"The salmon is delicious and my stomach is feeling fine. I think they were giving us too much starch and not enough animal in the hospital. At least for my... somewhat altered... constitution." Her veela heritage cried out for flesh. Frequently. The diet heavy on bread and potatoes that the hospital offered their convalescents did little to speed her recovery. Although, they wouldn\'t have known without her telling them or running the tests. And why would they have thought to run the tests? Still, she was looking forward to being able to eat foods that were a bit morenourishing than the standard hospital fare. "And lunch tomorrow sounds lovely. Assuming he wants to meet me."







Nodding in acknowledgement of that provision, he sat back and their clean plates disappeared as the waiter returned to them. "Would mademoiselle and monsieur care for a dessert? Or another glass of wine?"







"No, thank you," Lucius replied. The waiter bowed and melted back into the background. The meal would be charged to Lucius\' account as bills were so gauche. "Are you ready to go home, princess?"







He stood and held out his arm once more, giving her a small, warm smile.



"Yes, Papa, I am."





And for the first time in more than two years, it felt like she had a home to go to.