My Father's Only Rule {DRACO MALFOY X SNAPE'S DAUGHTER}

Chapter Fifteen: Father Knows Best

December 1995 - Spinner's End, Cokeworth

 Hauling my stuff through the front door to see a festively decorated living room, complete with a Christmas tree, made me wonder if he had ever decorated for Christmas before.

"Do you usually do this?" I asked, gesturing at the Christmas tree.

"I've never had anyone to do this for," he said. "Go settle. We'll have dinner soon." I hauled myself up to my room and unpacked, but not completely. I only had to stay here for a couple more days, and then I'd finally go stay with Harry. I didn't know what I was planning on doing. Maybe I'd read or take a look at next semester's syllabus. All I knew was that this was going to be the longest four days of my life. And Dad was being selfish for keeping me here when he had been a not-so-great dad as of late.

At dinner, we sat at the table across from each other. I avoided conversation. What happened to my dad? He used to be cool. We used to be cool.

"How's school going?"

"Good."

"All Os, I expect."

"Yup."

"How are you liking Gryffindor?"

"I like it."

"You still talk to your Slytherin friends?"

"No." He was surprised at this.

"I noticed you haven't spoken to Malfoy in quite a while. Not even Miss Baldwin?"

"No, Dad. We're not friends anymore," I said sternly.

"Got it," he said. "Okay, Grace. Since I am allowing you to associate with Potter, Granger, and all the Weasleys, I need you to tell me exactly what you know."

"Why is it important?"

"I just need you to tell me."

"How about you tell me why I found out you were a death eater from Harry and not you." This left him speechless. "How about you tell me why you don't want me to know about Voldemort. Or why everyone assumes that all Slytherins are death eaters. Dad, how about you tell me what the hell is going on in the world."

"I thought I specifically told you to remove yourself from those conversations."

"What if I wanna know these things?" I said. "What if I want to fight?"

"YOU CAN'T!" he screamed.

"WHY NOT?!" I screamed back. "Voldemort has killed someone I loved already! And he'll do it again. And I know you're fighting. So why can't I?"

"Don't say his name," he hissed.

"It's a name, Dad," I said. "It's a name. There's no reason to be afraid of a name. You literally make no sense. There are two sides to this war, and I wanna be on the right one."

"I assure you," he said through gritted teeth, "there are far more than two sides to this war." I could only be furious at my dad for being involved on both sides. Because that meant I couldn't be involved at all. I stood up to leave the table.

"I know about you. And I know about Lucius Malfoy. And I know about Voldemort. And the Order. I know all of it. This isn't about safety. This is about right and wrong. We all know that only Harry can kill Voldemort. We all know that he's our best hope. Yet you continue to hate him and give him a hard time. Quite frankly, I am failing to understand how you can be what Dumbledore swears you are." I didn't have the energy to continue the conversation, and I needed to collect my own thoughts before I brought them to an argument.

Who was my father? What was my father's purpose in this whole ordeal? He was once a death eater. A loyal follower of Voldemort. But what happened that caused him to devote his loyalty to Dumbledore? And if he's still a spy, why wasn't he in the graveyard that night? If he truly wants to keep me safe, why isn't he telling me these things so I can avoid them? Why does he insist I focus on school work instead of teaching me to protect myself in this war? Kids who grow up without a dad always question who their father is. But I don't think I really questioned who my dad was until I met him.