Chapter 54

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Elena woke that morning knowing the world had changed; some primary element had shifted and the balance between light and dark was unsteady. Something woke her and it warmed her soul despite the knowledge she held. It reminded her of Albus, sharp and heartening across the sky. She thought it might be a phoenix song.

At some point the news officially reached her that Albus Dumbledore had been slain. She cried into Donal's chest and he wept into her hair. Then she rose and read the note the headmaster had given her in preparation for this day. It was short and asked one simple favor of her, a way she could make someone's life a little better.

As she didn't have an owl of her own, she sent it using Donal's, the letter bearing her name, her relation to Albus Dumbledore as a longtime friend, and the knowledge that this young man who had sacrificed so much was not the traitorous killer the world now believed him to be. If he liked, he could write her without judgement, for she knew the evil he had to endure and admired his strength in a way he could not know.

She washed after that, considering her next actions. What she was considering was foolish, but she was drawn to do it all the same. When Donal met her that evening for dinner, he could see it in her eyes.

"When will you go?" he said, holding her hand in his as he always did when they were together.

"Tomorrow." She sighed. "I know it's strange, to want to see him after all these years."

He shook his head. "Not at all, love. He impacted your life greatly and you want to face him before all of this is over."

"And it will be soon."

"Yes."

They washed the dishes together and adjourned to the little porch in front of her small house to while away the night. They would not sleep together the night before she faced the Dark Lord, but they could still stare into the darkness hand-in-hand.

---

"My lord, there is someone outside the gate," Lucius said, kneeling gracefully before Voldemort's throne-like seat in the Malfoy drawing room. At the arch of the skin where the Dark Lord's brow should be, he added, "She says she is here to see you."

How curious. Voldemort tilted his head, considering. "Did she tell you her name?"

"No, my lord, but she insisted you would see her."

"What does she look like? Is she a threat?"

Lucius' brows furrowed as he thought, bringing the stranger to mind. "She is older than I am, my lord. Perhaps around Dolohov's age. Small, frail in build. Dark blue eyes, short hair of blonde and white." He was struggling to think of something more precise, but Voldemort cut him off with one spidery hand. He was certain he knew who this visitor would be.

"Bring her in." The man nodded in a half-bow and turned on his heel to obey. "Antonin, Theodorus," he hissed to the surrounding Death Eaters. "Stand beside me, please. I believe we are having ourselves a little reunion." A part of him was surprised she had finally come to him even while another had expected her to return much sooner, begging for an end to her isolation. He'd have permitted it of course (after proper admonishment); she was useful enough and there was almost a certain fondness for her not unlike what he felt with his inner circle. He was disappointed she hadn't married; he would have thrilled to murder someone she loved, delighted in seeing her break down. Oh well. She was never that foolish, at least when it came to those she said she loved.

The woman who followed Lucius Malfoy confidently into the drawing room was miles away from the brittle little girl he'd met at Hogwarts decades ago. She was even different from the young woman he'd convinced to take a drink with him in the Hog's Head. She still kept her hair short and it was streaked with white now. The delicate lines on her face spoke of joy, laughter. That surprised him and he felt the curl of anger at his chest.

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