Harmony Malfoy: A Harry Potter Fanfiction Part 31

Instructions

Harmony’s hands felt clammy. “…that doesn’t mean anything,” she said, but her voice didn’t sound like hers anymore. “People die, babies die. That doesn’t mean-” “Harmony,” Fennec said, stepping closer, “that wasn’t a normal death.” She shook her head desperately. “You don’t know that.” “Yes, I do,” he said, more firmly now. “Because I went back to the book. And then I started putting it together,” he said. “Two babies. One dies. A spell cast between them. That kind of magic only means-” “No,” she said again, sharper now. “Harmony-” “No,” she snapped, standing abruptly. “You’re twisting things. You don’t just jump from ‘someone used magic’ to-” “To dark magic?” Fennec said. The words hit like a blow. She froze. “That’s the only kind of magic that fits,” he went on, voice shaking now despite himself. “A death. A transfer. Something binding one life to another,” “That’s not how it works,” she said quickly. “It is,” he said. “It’s exactly how it works.” Silence. “Harmony…” His voice dropped, almost breaking. “I think someone used that moment, used that death… to anchor something into you.” Her heart pounded violently now. “No,” she whispered. “I think,” Fennec said, forcing the words out, “that the second baby, the one who died,” “Stop,” she said. “… was Delilah Narcissa Malfoy.” “Stop.” “And you are-” “Fennec, stop!” “Not the real Delilah Malfoy.” The words echoed in the corridor. Harmony stared at him. Unmoving. Unbreathing. “That’s not possible,” she said after a long moment, but there was no conviction left. “I remember, my home, my family, the fire, Draco-” “Those memories aren’t yours,” Fennec said softly. “Not originally.” Her hands trembled. “They were put there,” he continued. “Layered over whatever you were before. And whatever was bound to you… made them feel real.” Harmony shook her head, backing up a step. “No. No, that’s,” “Harmony,” he said, voice raw now, “I don’t think you’re a Malfoy,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I think…” he trailed off. A long silence followed, “…what are you saying?” she asked, her voice hollow. Fennec looked at her like he wished he could take it back. “I think,” he said, “you’re a Horcrux.” The word seemed to drain the air from the corridor. Harmony’s mind reeled, memories flashing, overlapping, slipping, The manor. The fire. Her name. Her name. “…that’s not” she choked, “that’s not who I am…” But for the first time, she didn’t know if that was true. And that terrified her more than anything.