a/n *huggles* to Beth, my fantastic beta, and thanks to the Professor for a wonderful bunny :)


The dark man looked up and down the crowded street, one hand buried in his pocket, clutching an unseen object. It was a damp and chilly spring evening, typical for London in March. The street was full of people heading home after a long day of work, yet no one appeared to notice the strange man step out of the window of the abandoned department store. He quickly scanned the mass of pedestrians and, apparently satisfied with what he saw, crossed the street to the nearest telephone booth.

“Lissy, honey, it’s Robert,” he began only to be cut off by the excited woman on the other end of the line. After a moment was able to continue, a touch of guilt in his voice, “No, I’m not going to be home early. I’ve got an errand to run, and then I have a meeting to attend.” A pause, “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be home before Dean goes to bed, but I don’t know how long the meeting will be.” Another pause, and then, sadly, “I’m sorry…I love you.” He hung up the phone with a sigh, and turned to walk back toward the department store. He gave the street another quick scan, and disappeared with a loud pop.

*


Robert walked slowly but deliberately down the quiet country road, one hand pulling his trench coat tightly around him, the other still hidden in his pocket, grasping his wand. “You have to do this,” he mumbled to himself. “You have to tell them. They have a right to know. Maybe they will understand. Maybe they will accept them.” He let out a loud laugh, “What are you thinking, Robert? These are your parents you are talking about, the noble, proud and pure Leicesters. There is no way they would accept a Muggle,” he spat out, as if the word were poisonous, “grandson or not.”

He continued muttering to himself as he made his way along the deserted road, then suddenly a large house came into view, and his pace slowed. As he neared the gate, he paused and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the unpleasant task. “I have to do this,” he repeated. “They have a right to know.” He took one last look around, and with a wave of his wand, transformed his clothing back to its original form. Robert smoothed the front of his dark green robes and stepped through the gates of his family home.

He approached the door with an air of determination about him, any doubts he had were left at the road. I love them, and that’s all that matters, he thought as the door swung open.

“Master Robert!” a small voice squeaked at his feet. “You was not expected until after dinner. Relly will tell Master and Mistress you is here.” The elf disappeared as Robert stepped into the hall. I was expected? Seconds later, a tall, elegantly dressed woman descended the marble stairs.

“Robert, what a pleasant surprise,” the woman began graciously, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “You were never one to be patient.”

“It is lovely to see you too, Mother.” He leaned over to give the woman a quick kiss on the cheek before the peculiar greeting registered. “Patient…what are you talking about?”

“All in good time, my dear.” She gestured toward the sitting room. “Come, have a drink while we wait for your father. He has something important to tell you.”

“Thank you, Relly.” Robert accepted a goblet from the house elf, and settled himself near the fire. He turned to face his mother again, “I have something to tell you too.” He swirled the dark liquid in the glass, and stared at it as though it would tell him how to proceed. “I’ve met someone.”

*


“Filth! Scum! Shame of my flesh!” Shouting echoed through the vast rooms of the stately manor. “You dare to stand here, on what should be the proudest day of your life and tell me you have bedded a Muggle!” The usually composed demeanor of Edward Leicester was lost to rage at the confession of his son. As he paced around the room, his son could feel the anger radiating off his body. “This. Stops. Now.” There was no more shouting, just a simple command, and he was not used to being disobeyed.

Robert surveyed his father carefully; his reaction was not unexpected, but it was confusing. What is all this rubbish about ‘the proudest day of his life’? He fell back into his chair, and for a moment, he thought about refuting his father’s bigoted remarks. In the end, his curiosity got the better of him, and he decided it might be best to change the subject, “Why should I be proud, Father?”

The reply began with a harsh scowl. “Well certainly not for that little confession,” Edward’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “But, now that little affair is over,” he gave his son a meaningful glare. “The day we have been waiting for has finally arrived.” With this statement, the anger appeared to evaporate, and a smile began to spread across the older man’s face. “The Dark Lord approves of the work you have done, and now that you have completed your apprenticeship at St. Mungo’s, he has agreed to accept you into his ranks. You will receive your mark tomorrow evening.” He was positively beaming by this point. “Then, you will join the Lord Voldemort’s potions master in his work.”

“My mark?” Robert could not hide the shock in his voice; luckily, his father assumed that he was pleasantly surprised. “Father, I thought the Dark Lord was content to keep me at St. Mungo’s. Have I not been useful to him there?” he asked carefully.

The elder Leicester shook his head and chuckled, “This is not a punishment, Son. You have performed your task admirably. The information you relayed about the injured Order Members was particularly useful. As a reward for your service, and as a favor to an old friend,” he looked ready to burst with pride at the thought, “the Dark Lord has agreed to advance your position. Now you can be properly recognized as one of his servants.”

The younger man rose and walked toward the large picture window on the opposite side of the room. Silently, he stared out over the expansive grounds, thoughts flooding his mind, How can I do this? I can’t do this. This was not supposed to happen... A gentle hand on his shoulder brought his attention back to the room around him. “Mother?” He had almost forgotten she was there.

“Come back over here, Son. I know this is a lot to absorb,” she began understandingly as she settled him in a chair. “There will be a great deal of responsibility in your new position, but the Dark Lord believes you will be useful, and you must trust his judgment.”

She thinks I am concerned with disappointing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Robert shook his head in disbelief, I should have known. He knew he had to say something, “Mother, Father…”

I have to stop this now before it goes any further. “Mother, Father…” He placed his goblet on the table and stood to face his parents as he began to speak. “I…I can’t do this.” Robert knew he had to choose his words very carefully. He no longer held the foolish hope that either of his parents would understand, but if he handled this properly, he might leave this house merely disowned. If not…he couldn’t help but think about it. He could beat me; torture me, or worse, he could find Lissy or Dean. Robert suddenly felt his blood go cold. No. He does not know we are married, and he certainly does not know about Dean. I can never let my father near them. There must be a way out of this. He drew in a breath, “I cannot do as the Dark Lord requests. I cannot accept the Mark.”

Silence. It lasted only a few seconds, but to Robert, it felt like an eternity. Neither of his parents appeared able to speak, although their feelings were clear. He looked at his mother and mentally traced the lines of her face. There he saw surprise, confusion, and traces of anger; however, what he found in her eyes gave him hope. Is that concern? Worry? Maybe she does care about more than Lord Voldemort’s wishes. Robert held her gaze for a moment and almost let himself be fooled by the illusion of tenderness, but it was not to last. Any warmth the younger man felt was quickly extinguished by the icy glare coming from his father.

“You cannot?” The shout echoed throughout the vast house. “This is not a choice! An invitation to join the Dark Lord is an honor. A privilege!” Edward was practically shaking with anger. “You dare stand here and refuse?” He reached for his wand, but before the older man could cast a spell, a gentle hand touched his arm. Robert watched in awe as his mother stepped forward to take control of the situation.

“Edward, darling,” she cooed softly in her husband’s ear. “Please, calm down, shouting isn’t good for you. She looked at him with loving concern. “Can we give the boy a chance to explain?” Edward did not reply but returned his wife’s warm look. Katherine Leicester was quite experienced at controlling her husband’s temper. She took his wand hand in her own and gently rubbed his back as she led him to the nearest sofa. As she settled herself next to him, careful to keep control of his hand, Katherine gave her son an appraising look. “Now, son, I understand if you are anxious, but as I said before, you must trust the Dark Lord’s judgment. You must think about this. I am sure that if we talk about this, we can make the right decision.”

Robert recognized his mother’s tone immediately; she had played this part many times over. Every time “her boys” fought, Mother would step in with soft words and pointed discussion, making sure that everyone came to an amicable compromise. I’m sorry, Mother, not this time. This was his wife, his child they were talking about, never mind the fact that Robert did not agree with the Dark Lord’s beliefs. He would never do anything to bring harm to his family. “Yes, Mother you’re right. This does require a great deal of thought, and I have thought about it. I will not join the Dark Lord.”

Edward began to rise but was held in place once again as his wife gently squeezed his hand and whispered softly, “May I?” Edward paused for a moment, and then nodded. Katherine looked from her husband to her son giving each a small smile. “Now, son, I’m sure there we can make an arrangement to your liking. Your father has promised you to the Dark Lord, and he is quite anxious to count you among his followers. Perhaps all you need is some incentive?”

Incentive? What is she going on about now? Robert’s confusion was mirrored in his father’s expression. “What do you mean, Mother?”

“Your father is highly favored by the Dark Lord, and I’m sure he would be granted a small request in return for your loyalty. A pet perhaps?” Katherine ignored the suspicious looks she received from the two men. “This Muggle of yours, to be specific. I’m quite certain the Dark Lord would allow you a toy.”

“A PET?!”

“THE MUGGLE!”

“Lissy is not a toy!”

“My son will never touch such filth again!”

The uproar was deafening; it was obvious that Katherine had lost any control she once held over the two men. They now stood mere inches from each other, still shouting although neither was completely intelligible. Katherine knew there was nothing she could do to stop the duel of words. She simply waited for it to end itself, and soon both men faded into silence.

“Father,” Robert began as calmly as he could, after a few seconds of tangibly uneasy peace. “I will marry whomever I please, and I will not join the Dark Lord.”

It was a simple statement, but it was enough to push Edward over the edge again. With a wave of his hand, Edward threw Robert backwards, making him land on his back across the room, his wand flying out of his pocket. The elder man smiled with satisfaction as he strode over to his son and drew his own wand. “Crucio!”

Pain. Robert could not think of anything else; every nerve in his body was on fire. Then suddenly, it was over. Wandless magic, Unforgivable Curses? Why am I surprised? The young man had forgotten how powerful his father was. His eyes gradually began to refocus, and Robert saw his father towering over his prone body.

Edward reached down and grabbed the younger man by the throat, slamming him into the wall behind him. He held the still-shaken man there, his wand pointed his son’s chest. “I will only say this once more,” he began in a cold, emotionless voice. “You will not bring shame on this family. You will forget this Muggle.” His grip tightened on each statement. “You will take the Dark Mark tomorrow. You are a Leicester, and you will do as you are told.” Edward released his son and tossed him to the floor. “Or, you will suffer the Dark Lord’s displeasure.” Edward took one more glance at his son and turned to his wife gently taking her arm, “Come Katherine, dinner is waiting.” As he left the room, he paused, “Tomorrow evening, seven o’clock. You will be here.”

All Robert could do was stare at his parents’ backs as they walked from the room. His mother had said nothing after the last outburst. Her only reaction was to shake her head sadly, as she followed her husband, disappointment etched across her face. Why am I surprised? he thought again. I knew what my father was capable of. I knew they could never accept the choices I’ve made. He repeated these realizations as he retrieved his wand and left the room. Robert glanced briefly around the hall, and caught sight of the large clock out of the corner of his eye. The meeting. Bloody hell, I’m going to be late. No one noticed as he left the mansion, not even the house-elf. She must realize I’m no longer part of this family already, he mused. He left the grounds quickly, pausing only for a moment before his Disapparated. “Expecto Patronum,” he said softly and watched a silvery blur shoot into the night.