"Father."
"Oh, Carina. My treasure. What brings you here?"
Lucius Malfoy welcomed his daughter as she came to find him. Carina gave him a brief embrace, then settled into the chair across from him.
"It's about the diary."
"Carina. I told you not to concern yourself with that matter."
"But Harry Potter keeps pressing me about it."
"Simply ignore him."
"I've been trying to, but he keeps finding ways to get under my skin. Father—what exactly was that diary?"
"Good heavens. Dumbledore. What could this child possibly know, that he keeps tormenting her like this? He ought to come to me directly."
Lucius sighed.
"Don't breathe a word of this to anyone. There's likely no one who would believe it, and no evidence to speak of—but there's nothing to be gained from letting stories spread."
"Of course."
"That diary was a dark artefact entrusted to me by the Dark Lord. He didn't tell me the precise nature of it, only that it was of the utmost importance and must be kept somewhere safe. He said he would come to collect it himself, when he returned."
A chill ran through her.
Carina recalled what Harry Potter had told her.
A Horcrux. A vessel for a soul.
Something of the utmost importance. Something its owner intended to reclaim upon his return.
"Hmm? Carina. You've gone pale. Are you unwell?"
"Oh—no! Please, go on!"
"There isn't much more to tell, really. The rest you already know. He vanished, and I kept the object in my possession. But as you know, that Weasley—that blood traitor—kept stirring things up. I was afraid of being implicated without cause, so I passed it along to his daughter, and... well. You know the rest. You were at Hogwarts. You'd know it better than I would."
She knew it far too well.
The true nature of that object. And just how grave a danger her father had placed himself in.
"Do you think... the Dark Lord would be angry, if he learned the object was gone?"
"Look at you, worrying about your old father. You've grown up, Carina."
Lucius smiled—the rare, gentle smile he only ever showed at home.
"Carina. The Dark Lord has vanished. If he were still alive, why would he not have come to our house by now? We are among his most devoted."
'Because he doesn't trust us?'
The words rose to her lips and sank back down.
Lucius gave a quiet, dismissive laugh.
"And even if he were alive—surely he wouldn't fly into a rage over one dark object misplaced more than ten years ago? Don't worry yourself. It was only a diary. Anyone listening would think it was the Dark Lord's own heart he'd kept locked away somewhere."
"But it was—!"
"Hmm? What was that?"
It was one of the objects the Dark Lord had arranged for his own resurrection.
According to Harry Potter, there were several more—but one of them had been handed directly into enemy hands. That much was certain.
"Ah—no, it's nothing."
"You're still fretting, I can tell. You have a tender heart, Carina, but to reign as a pureblood, one must learn to be a little colder."
Lucius flicked his wand. The teapot and cup rose gently into the air, drifted toward Carina, and poured themselves.
"Pay no mind to Dumbledore or Harry Potter. They cannot move against me. There is no evidence beyond that worn-out diary—and even if they were to find some, I have the means to make it disappear."
"I... I suppose that's true?"
"The diary was destroyed, you said? By basilisk venom?"
"Yes."
"Then there is even less cause for concern. Basilisk venom is a magical poison that destroys the very soul. Whatever evidence linked it to our family—and whatever magic was bound within it—will have been annihilated along with it. Even if someone had died and their soul been trapped inside that diary, the basilisk venom would have shattered it to nothing. Not even a ghost could testify to any of this."
Rattle, rattle, rattle.
The teacup in Carina's hand trembled violently.
Lucius looked at her with a worried expression.
"Are you feeling ill, Carina?"
"I—I think I may be coming down with something."
"Dear me. I'll have the house-elf see to the heating."
Carina rose unsteadily to her feet.
It seemed her father had dug his own grave.
Quite spectacularly, at that.
"I—I'll take my leave, then."
"Of course. Get some rest."
"Yes... take care, Father."
As Carina made her way to her room, she came to terms with a truth she desperately wished she could disbelieve.
She was the only one who could protect the Malfoy family.
The best possible outcome, as things stood, was for the Dark Lord to simply never return.
It was perhaps an impious thought—but the Dark Lord was nothing but a liability to the Malfoy name.
The Malfoys had wealth. They had power.
Siding with the Dark Lord offered everything to lose and nothing to gain, even in victory.
And for Carina, who had always preferred to hold sway over others through her natural grace rather than through force of magic, a world ruled by dark power held no appeal whatsoever.
"If I want to keep the Dark Lord from returning... I'll have to cooperate with Harry Potter."
And if Harry Potter failed, and the Dark Lord came back?
"...If he does return, I'll have to keep as low a profile as possible and make sure none of it comes to light."
Harry Potter had made her a promise.
If she cooperated, he would do everything in his power to conceal the information about the diary.
And if she wished, he would hand over the diary itself—the most damning piece of evidence—directly to her.
When she had asked how she was supposed to trust him, Harry Potter had answered with an expression of perfect composure.
'Whether you trust me or not is your choice, Malfoy. But at the very least, if we recover this diary... won't you have something to say when Voldemort comes asking about it?'
He was right.
If they had broken into Malfoy Manor and destroyed the diary themselves, there would at least be a story to tell.
But slipping it into a schoolgirl's bag and letting it drift into Hogwarts to be destroyed—soul and all, completely and utterly?
'If that comes out, you're dead. Father, at the very least, is absolutely dead.'
Carina clenched her fist.
She had never been one for anxiety—but when the family itself was at stake, she was the one who had to act.
Her devoted father. Her beloved mother. And her dear little brother, Draco.
Some might call them blood purists and sneer—but to Carina, they were her family, more precious than anything in the world.
"I will protect this family."
Carina made that vow with iron resolve.