Summary: Lucas surveyed her quietly. Siobhan wondered what he might be thinking, how he must be judging her. After all, what kind of woman would do what she was about to do?
This one-shot is a companion to
The Magnificent Malfoy, telling the story of how Lucille came to be in the care of her half-brother. For this to make sense, I strongly recommend reading the chaptered story first, as well as its other companion,
Long Lost Lucille.
Categories: Alternate Universe Characters: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 1
Completed: Yes
Word count: 1569
Read: 1779
Published: 06/21/08
Updated: 06/21/08
Story Notes:
Siobhan Murphy is the brilliant creation of GringottsVault711/TheVault; you will know her from the magnificent story Sins of the Father. Lucas and Maximilian are my own; you can meet them in Lucas’ own story, Vacillation and Volition.
1. One-Shot by Fantasium
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Merridown lay in complete darkness when they arrived. The lampposts in the drive had been put out for their discreteness, and they were travelling by horse carriage instead of car, to make as little noise as possible. As the horses stilled and the reins slacked, a single light appeared in a window on the ground floor. Siobhan, pulling the carriage curtain aside, felt her heart ache at the sight of it. She wondered, for the thousandth time, how she would be able to go through with this.
The carriage door was opened from outside, and steps were pulled out for her. The coachman, anonymous in his black robes, bowed and stepped aside. Already feeling how tears were beginning to burn her eyes, Siobhan turned around to the sleeping form next to her on the seat. A child, so little, with red hair curling around a peaceful face. She knew nothing of what was coming, and Siobhan could only be envious of her ignorance. Gently, ever so gently not to wake her, she lifted the little girl onto her lap, into her arms and her embrace. A little hand reached out, found and gripped the fur on her cloak, and Siobhan felt her soul cry out in agony. What was she doing?
“Miss?”
The coachman’s voice was just as featureless as his appearance, but his message was clear enough. He had business to tend to elsewhere tonight, and wished for her to get on with hers.
“I “ I will be right out,” she spoke over the top of the little head that rested against her chest.
Holding the bundle even closer, she attempted to compose herself. She knew why she had come here, what she must do. There was no point in prolonging the pain. With a heavy sigh, she climbed out of the coach.
Siobhan saw him at once in the dull light. He was standing at the bottom of the steps, his frame a copy of the man who had sired him. As she approached him she thought his face resembled a mask, vacant of emotions. It frightened her for a moment, reminding her that he was, in fact, a stranger to her. But as she stopped before him and met his gaze, she saw that his grey eyes were filled with compassion.
“Siobhan,” he greeted her, his voice so low, so soft.
“Lucas. I apologise for the late hour.”
He shook his head. “Sleep is not a friend of mine these days. I have been waiting for you. Will you come inside?”
“No. I must leave.”
Lucas surveyed her quietly. Siobhan wondered what he might be thinking, how he must be judging her. After all, what kind of woman would do what she was about to do?
“Are you sure about this?” There was no judgment in his question, only concern.
“There is no other way. She “ she would never pass for a daughter of Harry’s, even if he would approve of her. And… Lucas, no one must know. This would not be a good time to be recognised as his child.” Siobhan paused, suddenly aware of what she had said. “As you would well know,” she added.
“As I would,” he nodded.
The owner of the carriage moved impatiently behind her, and the crunching sound of gravel beneath his feet broke through the stillness of the night. Lucas shot him a sharp glance, and the man stilled his motions at once. Siobhan sighed, knowing that time was growing preciously short, but not ready to let go just yet.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, tears threatening to take over again. “If there was some other way, I would not ask this of you.”
“I’m sorry too. And if there was some other way I would never agree to this, because I can see how much it hurts you.”
“Oh, Lucas…”
The girl moved in Siobhan’s arms then, as if she could sense that their time together was about to end.
“You should take her before she wakes up,” Siobhan said, straining to keep her voice steady.
“Everything is ready for her. We will care for her to the best of our ability.”
“I know you will. I just… I hope she won’t be a burden.”
“Siobhan…” Lucas stepped forward until he could gently place his hands on her shoulders. “She will never be a burden. She is my sister.”
Tears, an unstoppable stream of tears, finally escaped her eyes then. Lucas hands were so much like his, and it made her both sad and oddly comforted to know that they were the hands that would guide her daughter as she grew up. Lucas let go of her with his right hand, and reached for a handkerchief that she gladly accepted.
“I “ I wish there was a way to forget about this; to forget about her. Perhaps it would be easier to live with then.”
“Siobhan… You know there are such spells and potions. But I know that you will not resort to them.”
She looked at him through her tears, and saw the facial features that were so familiar to her though she had only met him a few times before. He was not that much older than her, after all, but calm and wise and kind as if he knew all the years of his grandfather. She saw now, bright and clearly even though her gaze was clouded with sadness, why she had decided upon this.
“Here…” she mumbled, and reached out to place her daughter in Lucas’ arms.
He accepted her, unbelievably careful, and let the little shape lean against his chest instead. Siobhan knew that a steady heart was beating there, and that she had just handed the girl from uncertainty to safety. But it was a poor consolation when her whole body was aching for the small one; aching to rip her out of his arms and flee with her before it was too late.
Except that it was already too late. The moment of parting had come and gone before she could realise it. Siobhan let out a gasp as though her very heart had been removed from her, and Lucas furrowed his brow as if he could feel her pain.
“I must go,” she said, although she felt like her feet had frozen solidly to the ground, and she could not fathom how she would be able to move away “ to leave.
He nodded and took a better hold of the child. He was not used to the weight, she could tell, and it almost made her smile. Perhaps the little one would not be a burden, but Siobhan knew that Lucas Malory was soon about to discover how much space and time such a young witch could demand.
“Give my regards to Maximilian,” she said.
“I wish I could.” A shadow seemed to pass over Lucas’ face, and he sighed deeply. “He passed away three days ago.”
“Oh no,” Siobhan breathed. “I’m so sorry.”
She knew what the old man had meant to Lucas, and it pained her to see him hurting. His eyes might be dry but his face was crying just the same as hers.
“I will not demand that you take good care of her,” she said, “because I know that you will, no matter what I say.”
“I promise you, Siobhan, that she will be safe.”
There was nothing left to say. She turned on her heels to leave, gasping again and straining for each step over the gravel, as if there was a physical bond between her and her daughter that she must stretch until it was torn. The coachman, quiet still, opened the carriage door for her as she approached, but before she could lift her foot to climb the steps a thought struck her and she spun around. Lucas had not moved, and it was a short way to run back to where he stood.
“Here,” Siobhan panted when she reached him, “let her have this, when she is old enough.”
From her finger she pulled a ring, and its clear amethyst shone brightly even in the dark of the night. She put it in Lucas’ free hand, and he held it up before his face.
“Are you certain you want to part with this as well?”
She felt her face harden a little as she answered. “I will have a new one to replace it, soon enough.”
Lucas nodded yet again, and closed his fist around the ring. Then, before she could protest, he surprised her by embracing her with his free arm. She startled a little at his touch; it filled her with memories that had nothing to do with him. But they were memories passing only briefly, because he let go of her almost at once. His face was calm again when she looked up at him, and the baby slept soundly in his arms.
“Goodbye, Lucas.”
“Farewell, Siobhan.”
And so she left again, and found that it was no easier the second time. When the carriage door closed behind her she felt as if the snap of it was really the snap of the connection breaking between her and her child. One of the horses neighed as the coach began to move, and alone on the seat, still holding Lucas’ handkerchief, Siobhan buried her face in her hands and began to sob.
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