What a Riddle

A Fathers call

We quietly rejoined the group after helping the wounded into the Great Hall, slipping into the shadows at the back.

I froze as I watched in horror. Hagrid, visibly straining, was being dragged forward by Death Eaters, Harry's lifeless body cradled in his arms, his wild black hair spilling over Hagrid's massive arms. My gaze shifted to my father. At his feet, Nagini slithered ominously, her cold, reptilian eyes locked onto something in the distance.

I subtly reached out, tapping Hermione to let her know I was there. She flinched but quickly composed herself. Her eyes glistened with tears she desperately tried to hold back. "All that's left is the snake," she murmured, her voice trembling. I nodded, though my mind was spinning. "I need to tell you—Snape is dead," she whispered, barely audible over the chaos around us.

The words hit me like a blow. "No..." I managed, my voice cracking, but before I could process my grief, a booming voice cut through the air.

"HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!" My father's voice echoed across the grounds, triumphant and terrifying. "NOW IS THE TIME TO PLEDGE YOURSELF TO ME!"

Lucius's eyes scanned the crowd and settled on Draco. "Draco," he called, his voice sharp and commanding. He beckoned to his son, but Draco stood frozen beside me, paralyzed by fear. I felt his trembling hand in mine and squeezed gently, trying to steady him.

"Draco. Florence," Lucius called again, this time adding my name to the command. My heart clenched as all eyes turned to us.

Cissy's voice was soft, almost pleading. "Come, Draco... Come, Florence," she urged, holding her arms out, her eyes filled with desperation as she blinked away her own tears.

"Your facade," Hermione hissed urgently in my ear. "Keep it up."

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering in my chest. "My darling daughter," my father called out, his voice sickeningly sweet. "Come stand by my side."

With shaky steps, Draco and I moved forward, our feet heavy with dread. The weight of the stares from those who didn't know our truth pressed down on me, their faces contorted with betrayal and heartbreak. Once I reached my father, I was pulled into a stiff, emotionless embrace, a farce for his followers. Draco moved to Cissy's side, his face pale with fear.

"Anyone else?" My father's voice rang out again, his arms wide as he gave a terrifying grin. It was the grin of a man who believed he'd won. "Who will join me?"

From the corner of my eye, I saw movement—Neville. He limped forward, and I watched, my heart pounding. What was he doing?

"That's it?" my father mocked, his tone dripping with condescension. "I thought there would be more. What's your name?"

"Neville Longbottom," Neville answered defiantly.

The Death Eaters erupted in cruel laughter, but I remained silent, my stomach twisting.

"Well, Neville, I'm sure we can find a place for you in our ranks," my father said with a sneer.

"I've got something to say first," Neville replied, his voice steady as his hand tightened around the worn Sorting Hat.

More laughter followed, but Neville didn't falter. "Go on, then," my father said, though his patience was wearing thin.

"It doesn't matter that Harry is gone," Neville started, and a murmur spread through the crowd. 

"Not now, Neville," one of his friends tried to warn him.

"People die every day!" Neville snapped, his voice rising. "Friends, family... Yeah, we lost Harry tonight, but he's still with us. So are Fred, Remus, Tonks... all of them. They didn't die in vain." He turned, eyes blazing, and stared down my father. "But you will, because you're wrong. Harry's heart did beat for us—for all of us."

Suddenly, Neville reached into the Sorting Hat. The crowd gasped as the glint of metal appeared. My eyes widened. Gryffindor's sword.

Nagini hissed, coiling in preparation to strike. At the same moment, Harry slipped from Hagrid's arms, alive.

Draco reacted first. He tossed Harry his wand, then grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the way as Harry fired a spell.

With a swift, powerful swing, Neville beheaded Nagini, and the serpent turned to dust. The last Horcrux was gone.

Without hesitation, I gripped my wand and pulled Salazar Slytherin's wand from my hair, letting it fall in loose waves around my shoulders. I handed the ancient wand to Draco, and together, we joined the fray, sending hexes and curses flying, careful not to hit Cissy.

"You traitor!" my father bellowed, barely blocking my spells. His eyes blazed with fury. "My own daughter!"

"You didn't raise me!" I screamed, unleashing my fury, my heart breaking with every spell. "And the man who did—you killed!" Tears streamed down my face, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. My father was overwhelmed, unable to fend off both me and Harry. Finally, Harry's disarming spell hit, and the Elder Wand flew into my hand.

My father's eyes widened in disbelief.

"You want to know why the wand won't obey you?" I said, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions. "I disarmed Dumbledore the night he died, just like he asked me to. The Elder Wand's loyalty belongs to me." With a flick of the wand, my father began to disintegrate, his body crumbling into ash. "It's time I undo the harm you've done," I whispered as he disappeared completely.

As the cheers of victory rose around us, I stood, wiping away the last of my tears. I turned to Harry, who looked at me with silent understanding.

"Starting with this," I said, snapping the Elder Wand in half.

I handed the broken pieces to Harry. "Thanks, Riddle," he said, his eyes soft with gratitude.

I nodded and retreated to Draco and Cissy. They pulled me into a tight embrace, and together, we walked away. As we apparated, I thought to myself, *I don't need to be a hero. I'll leave that to Potter. 

~~~

Later, I stood in the empty doorway of Spinner's End. The house seemed darker, lonelier, then I remembered.

Draco's hand rested on my shoulder, offering silent comfort. I gathered my courage and stepped further inside, my eyes scanning the familiar surroundings. My gaze landed on the photos lining the walls. I stopped at the one beside his favorite chair—a picture of me at eight, stirring a cauldron with an oversized grin while Sev stood behind me, his expression barely concealing his pride.

I picked it up, my fingers tracing the edges, and pressed it to my chest as tears slid down my face. This morning, we had heard Snape's last wishes. He left me the house at Spinner's End, and everything in it.

"We'll get through this," Draco whispered, wiping a tear from my cheek before pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

"It's just... hard to believe he's gone," I murmured, closing my eyes. "He always seemed invincible."

"I know," Draco replied, pulling me into a warm embrace. "But he's still with us, Flo. Just like Longbottom said—they all are." He pulled away, placing a hand over his heart, then mine.

And in that moment, I knew he was right.