Lucy Riddle and the Boy Who Lived

Accio Condom

Chapter Eleven

Lucy stood on the familiar doormat that had been outside the front door for all her life. Her mother had transfigured it to say in bold letters:

WELCOME HOME, LUCY!

She couldn't help but be grateful to have a great mother like her. Her mother had made sure Lucy was safe and welcomed, even if she was just outside in the backyard for hours.

Lucy reached over to ring the doorbell when she felt eyes on her back. She turned around and noticed a man standing behind her with cauldrons in his arms. He smiled at her. She had never seen him before — especially another wizard in her neighborhood.

"'Ello, I'm Mundungus Fletcher."

"Uh, hi?"

"Bloody Order of the Phoenix sent meh 'ere to give ya a message, but I'm not an effing messenger so don't get the idea I'll be coming back and forth, all right? They've invited you to the Burrow after Christmas to stay for a bit."

"From who —"

"Well, would ya look at the time? Gotta go, Lucy, so I'll see you on December 28, eh?" And he Apparated to somewhere she wouldn't know. The door behind her opened and her mother's head poked out.

"What are you standing out here for? Come in; come in!" she ordered, pulling her trunk inside the house. Lucy walked inside with snow trailing behind her. "Should've just let you stayed at Hogwarts, I mean, look at all this snow — hey, I was just kidding, love bug, come back!"

Lucy had walked back outside to the snow, watching her barefoot mother chase after her in a haste.

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After dinner, her father had brought out his telephone to work on and her mother was knitting a sweater. (Or was it a hat? Can never tell with her poor knitting skills.) Lucy was sitting on the couch, eying her parents.

"Mom; Dad?" she said, piercing the silence.

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Trix. Was more quieter when she left," her father muttered. Lucy hexed him with a Body-Bind spell, and he clamped his mouth shut, yelling at her through his eyes.

"Yes, love bug?" her mother replied.

"Who are my parents?"

That caught her parents off guard as they shared a look with each other and said together, "Us."

"No, I've been told that you guys aren't my real parents. Tom Riddle is my father, whoever he is." She told them everything. Lucy even told them about Draco Malfoy whom got her mum mad the most ("I'll murder that boy, I will. Wait till I tell his mother.")

Her father sent her a sad smile as he said, "That's true — he is your father."

"What?"

"Let us explain," her father said. "Before you were born, we were given an assignment. Tom Riddle is . . . well, he's . . . he's the Dark Lord, okay! We are one of the few loyal followers he had, and he had trusted us with you, Lucy. The Dark Lord had plans, and he didn't want you to be in the mist of when things got ugly.

"He gave you your mother's surname, but there will always be a trace of Riddle in your name. The Dark Lord had also given you a fake birthday — don't worry though, it's still your real birthday, only a year younger. He wanted you go be the same age as Harry Potter."

"So, you're saying I'm actually sixteen? Not fifteen?" she asked.

"Yes," her mother sniffed. "You've grown so much."

"We've pretended to be someone else too. I hate Muggles. It's been hard to keep this façade for so long. I was about to crack the first day," her father said.

"What about my mother?" she asked.

"No one knew much about her, I'm afraid. The Dark Lord — Tom Riddle, back then — never talked about her. She was something to him, for sure. When she died, he was heartbroken," her mother explained.

There was a knock on the door, and it flew open. Her grandmother was standing on the threshold with her arms wide open. "Where's my sugarplum?"

"She knows Dolohov. You can take those off now."

Her grandmother — Dolohov — smiled. With a flick of her wrist, she transformed into a he, and Lucy couldn't keep her eyes from bulging out of their sockets. "Damn, feels good to finally take those things off my chest. You know how heavy boobs are?"

"No," Lucy said quietly. "I've only got boobs."

Dolohov stared at her with concern. "Bellatrix, did you poison her? I told you it wouldn't be a good idea to make that stupid welcome-home cake!"

"Hey, now do not get all salty with my cooking. I didn't even make the welcome-home cake! I'll make you a I'll-hex-you cake right now if you want?" her mum pointed her wand at him threateningly. She turned to Lucy with a smile on her face. "Oh, don't worry, honey. This is how Slytherins greet each other."

Her father added, "Oh yeah, your mum's right. I remember this one time, during our Hogwarts years, I walked into the girl's bathroom by accident —"

"Accident, yeah, right," Dolohov snorted.

"— and she hexed me so hard, I wasn't able to walk for nearly a week. Thank God for Madam Pomfrey or else I would've been sent to Mungo's. It hurt. Never let Bellatrix teach you, okay? You'd follow her footsteps, and no one wants that."

Bellatrix jumped on her husband and kissed him right on the mouth, earning a groan from Lucy and Dolohov. Dolohov steered her out of the room and into the kitchen, placing both hands on her shoulders and staring into her eyes.

"Lucy, always remember that even though we were assigned to you, doesn't mean we haven't grown onto you like a sponge. We love you and will do anything to protect you, no matter what. Even if the Dark Lord tells us to kill you, we'll never do that."

She didn't know why, but it was very heartwarming and convincing to her. She didn't doubt a word Dolohov said because they're her family. She will always love them, even if they weren't who she thought they were to be.

"Yeah, Lucy, I'll always be your mum," Bellatrix said.

"And I'll alway be your amazingly handsome father," Rodolphus said with a smirk. Mum rolled her eyes at him and pulled him away into another room. He grabbed onto a corner, and said, "We've been waiting to try out this new Muggle thing. I know I said I hate Muggles, but someone said this thing was amazing, so be warned — hold on, Bellatrix! Let me get it. Accio condom."

[a/n: okay, so "accio condom" belongs hepburnettes. i do not at all take credit for that mere sentence. i thought it would be funny.]