If Voldemort Beat Harry.

11

I stare hard at Lucius Malfoy. His hair the same shade as mine, his eyes with the same dark hue and his skin with the same pearly glow as mine. We look so alike, though we're so different and I wonder why no one's ever guessed or wondered if he were my father. Or maybe they have. Maybe I just never realized. I wonder why no one knows who my father is when we are so similar. How can I do this? How can I kill someone so like me? How can I murder family?

He can sense my hesitation. He can tell that I can't do it. Lucius would kill you. If he were the one with the wand you'd be dead by now. Would I? Does he still have a human part of him, a part that cherishes me as his daughter, a part that is proud of me as a father should be? Or is he just a man who believes in injustice and cares nothing for his second child, his son's lost twin? Is he mad at me for choosing dumbledore over him? Does he still care about who I am and what I choose? Has he forgotten who I am now? Does he think that I support him? 

If he does, then he is right. A part of me still does. A part of me would die in his place, would sacrifice myself. A part of me would die for him. A part of me remembers. A part of me is surfacing, and this part still cares. This part doesn't care about what he's done, or who he is. This small distant part of me still calls Lucius Malfoy my father. I can't kill him. I can't kill the man that I once thought of as father, the man I ran away from. He did terrible things, but he did not do them to me. Why should I care? 

But the larger part of me knows why. Those people he killed and injured, they were real. Harry was real. Ron was real. He and his death eater pals killed them without mercy, without a care. As if it was fun. As if it was easy. The consequences should be real.

But this larger part, the part that's tried to forget, the part that makes me call dumbledore father, it's being over come. This part is losing to the smaller part, the one that's often forgotten. The part of me that was more often cast aside and forced back to the depths of my mind, this part, this dangerous part, it's winning the show. I lower my wand. "You're right." I whisper, "You've been right all along. I can't kill you. Hermione was right too. I'm not that type of person."

He stares at me. I notice that his usual confidence is gone. He looks me in the eye and I notice a single tear run down his cheek. Then he says words that I never expected. "I can understand why you left. You have a right to be angry, to be upset, to want to forget. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to go through it. I would have killed you. Yet you stand and you lower your wand. You are better than me in every way, which is why I have always been proud of you and jealous of dumbledore. He got you instead, and I still loved you." I watch, and I feel shocked. Such an apology and such forgiveness, a forgiveness from the man I could never forgive.

 I feel my own tears coming. No! I will not cry. Not today! I will not forgive the man that helped kill my guardian, no matter who he is. He will not be forgiven. He will not be my father. I will not accept him. I will not become his. I will be dumbledore's until I join him, I will avenge my father.

"Go! Before I change my mind! I will never forgive you! My father is dead!" I yell. He runs picking up his wand and fleeing like the coward he is. I point my wand at him. I begin to yell, "Sectum-" but then he is gone. He flicks his wand and appirates before I even start my spell. How I hate him. He has made me so confused. Now the question that I've always pushed away is stuck in my mind. Now no one can stop me from asking myself the unanswerable question.

Who is Amy?