Lexi Layyer my only weakness*hp fanfic*

The Plan

The door shuts behind Narcissa, Lucius and Bellatrix. Without any of us needing to say anything, the atmosphere is electric.

“…Voldemort’s going to be here in half an hour,” Draco chokes.

“And what did Bellatrix mean when she said Lexi would achieve ‘great things’?” adds Blaise, looking equally concerned.

“…Alex’s alive,” is all I can manage.

They both turn to look at me.

“Voldemort’s going to be here any moment now, and all you can think about is that?” frowns Blaise.

“Well, yeah,” I say. “He’s my brother, isn’t he?”

He’s safe. Alex’s safe; he’s awake, he’s alive. It brings me great comfort to know that, no matter what’ll happen to me in the next hour or so, my brother will be all right.

Blaise and Draco don’t seem to be very understanding. “Fuck that, what about you?” mutters Blaise, wandering over to the window and staring out of it. “Shit, what the hell are we going to do?”

Draco’s eyes are scanning the room frantically as if searching for answers. “We’ll think of something,” he mutters, jaw clenched.

I frown at them. “What are you talking about?”

They both look over at me.

I laugh, reading their expressions. “What, you’re not thinking of – of doing something, are you? Come on, you have to know when to accept defeat… there’s not a lot we can do about it now… I just have to, you know - mentally prepare myself for his arrival now…”

“What?” Draco splutters, rushing over to my side. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up, Lexi?”

“Of course I am,” I reply weakly, collapsing onto the bed. “We have to know when to accept the truth – that I’m Voldemort’s daughter, I can’t just - escape from that…”

“That’s it,” Draco murmurs, snapping his fingers. “That’s it!”

“Shit!” Blaise exclaims, breaking out into a frantic search of the room. “You’re right, Lexi! We could do it!”

I sit up at once. “…Excuse me?”

Draco and Blaise, however, seem to have slipped into an alternate option for conversation where they communicate only with meaningful looks and half-sentences that no one can understand but themselves.

“How could we -…?” Blaise murmurs.

“My broom, it’s downstairs,” Draco replies. “I could slip down and get it without being noticed – Mother and Father are too preoccupied…”

“Yes, and the force-field will be down, now they’re waiting for Voldemort to arrive!” Blaise finishes for him, sounding oddly excited.

“How long do we have?” Draco asks, running over to the window.

“I’d give us about fifteen minutes tops,” Blaise nods. “D’you think we could do it?”

“Why not? If I get the broom, you sort out some kind of bag for her – who knows where we’ll go, but we’ll be on the run, won’t we…”

“…And I meet you down in the garden in ten,” Blaise nods, glancing at his watch. “…Well, let’s say five to be safe.”

“If that,” Draco concludes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so agitated. “..Shit, Blaise, we have barely any time – why didn’t we think of this sooner?”