ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴛᴛᴇᴅ ʟɪʟᴀ ʜᴏʟᴍᴇꜱ || ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ x ᴏᴄ || ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ 1-3

seer

 
The following morning, I was brought breakfast by Dumbledore himself.

"Good morning, Lila," he greeted me, having a seat on the same stool Malfoy had sat on at the foot of my bed. "I was hoping to speak with you about a few things."

"Is Hagrid back?" Was the first thing I asked. Malfoy had caught me up on all I'd missed the previous night. We'd been awake much longer than we should have, long after we'd both finished our food. Madam Pomfrey kicked him out around eleven, insisting I change into pajamas and get some sleep.

"Yes, Hagrid returned late last night, or rather early this morning," Dumbledore smiled. "He'll be very happy to see you."

I exhaled in relief. "Good." I took the breakfast plate from him, finding myself quite hungry. I supposed being in a coma for months would do that. "What is it you wanted to discuss?"

"Well, first I wanted to make sure you're alright," Dumbledore nodded to me. "It takes a lot to escape the clutches of Lord Voldemort — a combination of cunning and bravery hard to find even in grown witches and wizards."

"I'm alright," I said honestly. My injuries were gone, and with some more food in me I could feel some of my energy coming back. "And it was nothing, really. I did what I had to."

"If I may ask," Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "How did you escape?"

I slowly sipped the tea provided to me on my nightstand.

"I had him kill me, sir."

Dumbledore hardly reacted to this, outwardly at least. But a grim sort of smile found it's way to his face shortly after. "And you weren't afraid?"

"I was," I admitted. "But not of dying. I was afraid for Ginny, and for my friends. I wanted them to be okay, so much that I'd risk anything—"

"And that's what saved you," he mumbled curiously. "To look death in the face for the sake of love. Something Voldemort could never do." He looked to me with a smile. "I'm incredibly proud, Lila, that you figured that out on your own."

I smiled softly, abashed at the gratitude being showered on me. "I just did what I could." I reached over and extracted the diary from the pocket of my robes. I handed it to Dumbledore, glad to remove it from my person.

"I supposed you might want this," I said. "I don't."

"I'll take it off your hands, thank you," he looked at it curiously, the object seeming so innocent. "This diary was enchanted with some incredibly dark magic. The reason I came was to ensure that none of it had transferred to you."

"Transferred to me?" I repeated hollowly. "You mean — Voldemort's soul—"

"Well, seeing that you have no lasting physical effects, I doubt that it could have happened at all," he examined me curiously. "But only over time will you notice the mental effects, if any. I am curious because Voldemort transferred some of his power to Harry the night he attempted to kill him — hence why he too can speak to snakes."

I raised an eyebrow. "You think he might have given me his power?"

"It's unlikely," Dumbledore shook his head. "You interacted with but a small fraction of his soul. I doubt there was anything more to give."

I sighed in relief, but the worry settled deep in my stomach. "I'll let you know if anything changes."

I felt my hand close around the pendant at my neck of its own accord. Only then did I remember it was there.

"What about Anne's necklace? Is that the same?" I asked.

"No, but I believe it's something similar, something of her own creation. She might not have been as powerful as her brother, but she was certainly more creative." Dumbledore smiled fondly. "It may have to do with her powers as a Seer, along with some soul magic that I have yet to understand. I doubt I'd be able to make it work the same way you have."