Cessation ⌁ Draco Malfoy [3/4] ✔

26

A/N: again, I'm really sorry for slow updates. I don't have a computer to update on anymore and I have tons of schoolwork to get through. So I'm trying to get as many updates on as I can. 

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Emma could barely believe her eyes, but they were fixed on the brown ones staring right back into her eyes. She was standing, completely still, barely breathing. She didn't want to blink in fear of him disappearing and this all being a dream – Fred being a git, awkward dinner talks, and her dad standing there in front of her, after having been gone for several months without a word.

The Weasley family was quiet, staring through the awkward silence. Emma's first instinct should have been to run up and hug him, but instead she took a step back, feeling rather betrayed that he would just leave her like that. She understood that he was grieving for his wife, but that did not mean he should have forgotten Emma like that, especially when he knew that she needed him.

"Where have you been?" she asked in a quiet voice, sounding very unlike herself. Samson's mouth opened, then closed again. He seemed to sense that she was upset, and expected her to rush over to hug him as well. Emma suddenly grew furious. "Where have you been?" she demanded this time, watching the older man straighten up and clear his throat.

"So, you got my letter, didn't you?" he said, taking off his cloak and handing it to Mrs Weasley after she offered to take it. "I hoped that you would, but I knew there was a slim chance of you actually getting to read it, what with the Ministry intercepting the letters."

"I'll go and get you some dinner, Samson," said Mrs Weasley, leaving to exactly what she had said.

The Weasley children were still silent, pretending not to eavesdrop even though they had no choice but to hear every word that was said. Samson gestured toward the table, and Emma nodded and sat back down next to Ginny, while Samson sat across from her and waited for Mrs Weasley to return.

"I did get the letter," Emma responded, pushing her plate of dinner away, having lost her appetite.

She was not interested in eating after everything Fred had said. She couldn't believe that his idea of distancing himself was blaming every horrible thing Ginny had done at school on her – Emma hadn't had a clue of anything Ginny had done until after she'd already done it. She wanted to scream her head off at Fred, but she was far too tired of being scared and worried and angry about everything. She wondered if Harry had ever wanted to just scream at the world.

"Oh, you did? Good. I'm glad," Samson said awkwardly, breaking eye contact with his daughter. Mrs Weasley returned a moment later with a plate of hot food. "Ah – thank you, Molly. I bet it's as delicious as it smells."

Mrs Weasley chuckled and stammered out a thank you. Emma eyed him – why was he so . . . different? He wasn't this conversational nor kind to the Weasleys the last time she had seen him. Maybe this small vacation of his had done him some good – maybe it was good for him to just run away from everything for a while.

"Emma, dear, are you not hungry?" asked Mrs Weasley, looking at Emma with those kind motherly eyes. She felt the urge to just jump up and hug the older woman for everything she had done for Emma, even when she had been just a stranger. Seeing Mrs Weasley stare at her like that made her want to devour the dinner.

"Oh, um . . . yeah," Emma said, pulling her plate of food back in front of her. "So, Dad . . . you were saying? What is you got up to? You mentioned in the letter that you had an idea of who did it."

All the Weasleys looked over at Samson in surprise, interested to know. He didn't even seem to care that everyone knew.

"I went to as many places as I could, talked to as many people as I could, and strayed around areas I knew Chelsea had been to when she was alive. I wasn't with her when it happened, she insisted on going alone to visit her family, whom she'd disconnected with for a great number of years. You know, with the war happening she wanted to be close with them again. I went to see them but they claim she never made it there.

I managed to search the area a number of times – nothing. I couldn't see anything that meant she was ever there, Emma. I wanted to save where she had died last, so I had only recently visited there. When I did, I walked up and down the river bank only a hundred times, and a hundred times my heart broke."

Emma waited patiently as Samson reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a small package, transparent so that anyone could see what was on the inside. It was a strand of curly, black hair. It could've been anybody's hair, but it was definitely something. And it was definitely a woman.

"Dad . . . who d'you think it was?"

"This, I believe, belongs to the cousin of Sirius Black," Samson said, shoving the package back into his messenger bag. "Your friend Sabrina – her mother. Bellatrix Lestrange."

"No way . . ." Emma said, feeling her heart hammering.

"That makes sense," Ginny spoke up. "That time we all went with Harry into the Ministry when we thought Sirius was there, when we ran into Bellatrix and Malfoy instead, she seemed almost . . . eager to find out if you were there, Emma. We all know how devoted she is to You-Know-Who. I think she'd do almost anything to catch you, Emma."

Emma chewed her lip.

"Dad . . ." Emma said, thoughtfully. "At the end of my sixth year when we were leaving, you said Mum died trying to protect my identity. But – how can you know that? She was alone. She was probably just . . . in the wrong place at the wrong time and someone took their anger and frustration out on her."

Samson shook his head. "No – no. She managed to send a Patronus. She tried running off – she knew she wouldn't be able to Apparate, but I don't think she was aware of who was trying to hurt her until she was unable to send a second Patronus. By then I know she was caught."

"That's awful," Emma said, shaking her head and managing to contain her tears. "I'm so sorry, Dad."

"She meant the world to you, too."

It was quiet for a moment.

"So," said George loudly. "Can we have some dessert now, Mum?"

A week later, Emma and Samson were leaving the Weasleys'. Death Eaters had showed up at the Burrow demanding to search the place to see if Ron was really there. The Weasleys went into hiding, surely, but Mrs Weasley insisted that Emma and Samson leave immediately and let her and the rest of the Weasleys handle the Death Eaters.

They didn't exactly have anywhere to go. For the time being, they were driving around as far from London as they could get. That was basically Death Eater territory in the Muggle world.

"Can you send them a Patronus and find out where they are?" said Emma one evening, as they pulled into a motel. "We shouldn't be here, we should go and see if they're OK now."

"I'll do that once you're back at Hogwarts," Samson assured her. When they exited the vehicle, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and looked around suspiciously. "We should be fine here. I don't think we should spend the rest of your Easter break sleeping in a car."

"I really am sorry, Dad," Emma said, biting her lip to keep from tearing up. It was like whenever she thought of his wife, of her mother, all she could see was blank eyes staring up at nothing, lifeless because of Emma. It was all Emma's fault. "I'm so sorry she died for me. She shouldn't have. I wish she hadn't. You should've just dropped me off with my aunt and uncle when I was a baby, then she'd still be here with you and I wouldn't feel this way. She'd still be here."

It was a dark night, so Samson wouldn't have been able to see her crying, but he could definitely hear it in her voice. It cracked more than she'd like for it to. He stopped walking and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Look at me. What happened to Chelsea is not on you. She would've done what she did for anyone she loved."

Emma grew frustrated and shook her head wildly. "No, you don't get it!"

"I understand that what you've been feeling all this time is guilt. And I understand why – but please, please, don't believe for a moment that your mother regretted what she did. I know she's somewhere at this moment, and she's happy to know that you're here, alive and breathing. OK?"

Emma sobbed and nodded, leaning into his hug when he pulled her close.

"Now, let's go inside. We have a lot to talk about."