LANDSLIDE, james potter [2]

Chapter Forty-Four

Draco sent very few letters nowadays. Lyra was worried he was hiding something from her. Whenever she'd ask both him and Snape how they were doing, they would either simply not respond to her letters, or they'd send one with a completely different subject matter. 

Summer was approaching and there was no word on when Draco was planning on killing Albus Dumbledore. Lyra didn't want her old headmaster to die, of course. He was the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, he generally fought for good. Those were qualities she appreciated in any person. And he certainly didn't deserve death. 

But if he didn't die, then Draco would. She'd probably be killed for it herself, if Bellatrix and Rabastan wouldn't suddenly intercede on her behalf. If they were to attempt to do so for anyone, she hoped it was for Draco. She wished they'd let her die if it meant her son would live. 

Lyra was sitting impatiently by the fireplace at Malfoy Manor, staring into nothingness. A glass of firewhiskey was sitting delicately between her fingers, though barely touched. She had hoped it would soothe her nerves, but she couldn't get herself to take a single sip. 

"Lyra," Rabastan said from behind her. He hadn't been in living in the house since Christmas, but he still stopped by a lot. This was one of those times, but as she saw how pale and tense he looked, she was sure it wasn't a visit for pleasure. "It's time."

Lyra straightened up in her seat as she clenched her jaw. He didn't have to say anything more for her to know what was about to happen. They both knew it had been the only thing on her mind for the past year. "Now?"

"Yes, now. I just got word from the Dark Lord himself," he told her, walking further into the room. He didn't look concerned, but he was obviously tense, wondering how the night was going to go. "I just thought you might want to know."

She quietly put her glass on the coffee table, unsure of what to think. This was the night that would either make or break her son. Though Snape had made a vow for his survival, it didn't mean something couldn't go wrong.

Part of her hoped a little bit would go wrong. She didn't want Draco, her little boy, to become a killer. She would never want that hanging on his conscience. She herself had done horrible things that still  plagued her but she had never taken somebody's life. 

 "Are you going to be there?" she asked carefully. She knew Rabastan didn't care much for Draco. He only cared that he was her son, though she wondered if part of him detested her son for also being Lucius's. She wasn't sure if she'd want him there when Draco would complete his task once and for all. 

"No. No, he's got another mission for me. One I'll be going on with the Dark Lord himself. It's a big honor for me." Rabastan smiled, as if it was something to celebrate. He walked closer to where she was sitting, grabbing her face and looking her deeply in the eyes. "After tonight, things will be good. Draco will be honored and so will I be. And I'll make sure you will be as well."

Lyra could barely force a small smile at him, trying to keep herself from crying once again. A few minutes ago, she had been concerned that Draco wouldn't ever follow through with the task. Now she could only be concerned that he would. That when he came home, her son would be a far cry from the sweet little boy he once was.

Rabastan quickly leaned down to kiss her, a manic smile on his face. He was once again caught up in the insane joy of feeling like his master needed him. It always frightened her when he looked like that. He looked sick. And then his kisses felt wrong, more than they usually did. 

"I love you," he said quickly. If she hadn't gotten so used to him saying those words then she wouldn't have caught them. 

As always, she wished she didn't hear them. And as always, she didn't say it back.  "You need to go. You can't be late."