With Good Intentions | By : T-W-O Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 12260 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I own nothing of HP nor do I profit in any way from these missives. I almost own the house I'm writing this fanfic in, tho'. |
Secreted in a corner under a Disillusionment charm (intended to fool the aurors' security spells) during Lucius’ tour de force admissions, Molly burned; the power balance had shifted too far the wrong direction.
Death Eaters and their minions — werewolves, vampires, giants —were winning the battle for post-war minds and hearts. Lucius looked to get off with a hand slap thanks to his money, Slytherin guile and Ron’s ex-tart on his arm. These “communities” they’d built attracted the wrong kind, creating a base for resistance to the way the wizarding world should be after decades of conflict and a bittersweet victory by those still calling themselves “the Light”.
The grieving matriarch had fought in two wars, suffered numerous miscarriages of children (and justice, to her mind) and buried a son under the willows at the Burrow. She’d be damned if the world would be allowed to return to those conditions at the hands of a Death Eater: the last living Death Eater; her personal responsibility.
In the cracked terrain of a mind warped by loss, Britain’s wizarding world cried out for rescue again.
An alternate plan was required.
Next to her, Arthur Weasley dropped his Disillusion’d disguise and left the conference room, unwilling to sacrifice another of his sons to Molly’s obsession. Her expression communicated clearly that collateral damage no longer concerned her. In her mind, any family member’s involvement with Hermione and Lucius marked them as traitors — not Weasleys.
A Disillusion’d Harry Potter, assigned to infiltrate M.A.D.E., watched his father-in-law walk away before making his own way to a secluded apparation point to have a long talk with his young wife.
Hours later found the owl-eyed orphan, in a new location, having butter beer with a friend.
More hours passed until the near-sighted alum found himself at Hogwarts — surrounded by the living and the living dead in portraiture — reconsidering aloud what was best for the world he’d “saved” from one kind of hatred and discrimination only to tumble into another.
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