The day of the funeral
The air at the back of the chapel was thick enough to choke on.
Outside, the summer sun beat down on the gravestones, but in this shadowed corner, the atmosphere was cold and medicinal.
Andrew stood with his hands shoved carelessly into his pockets, his posture relaxed, almost kingly, as if the decrepit house of God were merely another wing of his personal estate.
He exuded the casual arrogance of a man who owned the air everyone else was breathing.
Across from him, Harry held the toddler, Lolleta, pressed tightly against his chest.
His knuckles white, his grip frantic and unyielding; he held her with a desperate tension that suggested he expected Andrew to lung forward and snatch her at any moment, it almost made Andrew laugh.
It’s quite ironic that Harry hated him but still loved his daughter, his very blood kin that much.
The child was a walking miracle and a living horror; she was the result of a twisted experiment, born from the “fertilizing product” Andrew had stolen from his grandfather’s secret archives.
He had treated Malfoy like a nameless lab rat under the delusion that he was breaking Harry instead, testing the boundaries of the impossible and the result of that mad science was a daughter neither of them expected to come out so beautifully and full of life.
Her limbs may have failed to move properly from any early age but that never got in the way of Harry loving Lorreta whole heartedly like his own.
At first he was against raising her, in fact he had hated the very idea but the society and his family were already against him because of the misunderstanding that he had been the one who had conceived.
And in a world where status and power mattered the most, he was merely a spoiled teenager with no power.
The powerful figures of the nation, the Mayfairs patriarch and his father the national Bishop were against him, even Andrew the heir closest to a prince resented him and everyone assumed that even the ‘father of his own child’ never supported him, then they all drew away from Harry.
Slandering him and mocking him.
Harry never harmed anyone, and he always kept to himself…but when Malfoy caused this ripple effect in his life he shouldered Malfoy’s sins as his own and he was treated like a national criminal.
That’s why he hated Malfoy.
And not only because of that, but also because Malfoy had neglected Lolleta upon birth to chase after Andrew and he left her for Harry to raise.
In his mind it was because Harry was was known as Lolleta’s biological father anyway.
Malfoy continued with his life and chased after his dreams while leaving Harry’s life on a standby, raising his child and struggling because of how Lolleta’s health and physic had been so dire because of the way that she was conceived.
But throughout Harry’s isolation from the world, he found solace in Lolleta…she was all that he had and he grew to love her as if he bore her himself, even though he had nothing to cater for her.
So of course he can never forgive Malfoy for what he had turned his life into, more especially when he has also selfishly died leaving his family and child behind.
He really was a stupid prick, a prick desperate for the love of an enemy.
And that very enemy is standing right across him.
“So, you finally gathered the courage to face me after all,” Andrew said.
His lips curved into a faint, mocking sliver of a smile, his eyes dark with a terrible, possessive amusement as he was staring down at Harry across him.
“Just say what you want to say Andrew and then leave us alone,” Harry replied, his voice vibrating with irritation, though underneath it ran a current of raw, exhausting terror.
He feared Andrew even more than his father.
But he resolved himself to never show it, especially now.
Andrew stepped closer, the leather of his shoes clicking sharply against the stone floor.
He leaned in, his gaze dropping to the child’s face and then he smiled.
“Her name is Lolleta right?…Mhm she does have the Mayfair’s nose and hair, truly my daughter I must admit,” he murmured.
The words were beautiful, his voice sounding like silk dragged over the edge of a fresh blade.
“Even if you hide her in the deepest, darkest hole in this country, the blood will always recognize its master.”
“She has nothing of yours,”
Harry spat.
His face had gone entirely bloodless, pale with a loathing so deep and visceral it felt ancient, like a curse passed down through generations.
He shifted his body, physically blocking Andrew’s view of the girl.
“She is the only good thing to come out of the filth you and Malfoy had put me through. So don’t speak her name. Don’t even look at her.”
“She is my daughter…you cannot keep her away from me Harry. Not now and definitely not ever!”
“You don’t deserve to be her father!!… leave us alone!.”
Harry lashed out, his voice breaking along with the tremble of his arms, tightly holding on to Lolleta and shielding her from Andrew’s view.
The heavy wooden door of the vestibule creaked open, and Lucas chose that exact, catastrophic moment to stumble into the room.
The casual complaint on his lips died instantly.
He froze, his gaze darting between the two men—the predator, perfectly still and smiling, and the survivor, bristling and backed into a corner.
The sheer, suffocating malice vibrating between them made Lucas’s heart lurch violently into his throat, choking him.
Panic seized him.
He didn’t want to know.
He didn’t want to be a witness to whatever godforsaken reckoning was happening here.
Lucas spun on his heel, his boots scuffing loudly against the grit on the floor.
His eyes fixed solely on the exit, he was desperate to escape back into the blinding sunlight, to return to the relative, quiet safety of his own isolated guilt.
“Lucas, Stop.”
Harry’s voice cut through the damp chill of the chapel like a whip.
It didn’t just ask; it commanded, anchoring Lucas’s boots to the stone before he could take another step.
“Lucas it’s good to see you, I’m sorry that I never got to greet you properly earlier since we were interrupted,” he eyes Andrew, irritably so.
“So how are you?, how have you been?”
“Well…I have been good…at least not until Malfoy-..” he cleared his throat, unknowing what to say.
“I understand. And they said you’re the one who found him in his last moments,” Lucas stiffened, inwardly praying and hoping that Harry wouldn’t ask anything concerning Malfoy’s death but he never expected what he heard next.
“Well good job laying to rest a scumbag like him.”
Lucas quickly looked up at him, he thought he heard him wrong…but he truly meant it.
Harry’s face didn’t break.
His voice was devoid of any warmth.
He actually never cared.
“I only came to the funeral because he was my brother and of course for Lolleta’s sake as well. But other than that I had no other reason being here.”
“You’re still so cold Harry.”
Andrew chimed in
“You’re one to speak Andrew.”
They exchange cold glares and in the end Andrew smirks biting his lower lip with a chuckle.
“It’s good to have you back Harry”
Harry didn’t answer.
Instead he turned without a word and walked toward the light of the open doors, his shadow long and lonely against the chapel floor as he walked away with his sweet daughter…
running away from Andrew’s presence.
As the doors swung shut behind Harry and the child, the chapel returned to its heavy, incense-laden silence.
Andrew let out a soft, delighted chuckle as he turned Lucas around to face him, leaning in to press a cold, possessive kiss to Lucas’s forehead—the exact spot where he had forced Lucas to brand Malfoy.
“We should get going now that the funeral is over. I’ve seen what I wanted to see.”
“Yes”
Lucas nodded and Andrew led the way out of the cathedral, both heading back to the campus.
******
Later that very same day after Malfoy’s funeral, at the McGuire’s estate.
The dinner table, heavy with the silence of Malfoy’s empty chair, and the return of Harry the prodigal son with his daughter, the tension suddenly crackled with a new, dangerous electricity which was only cut short by Lolleta’s chattering as Harry fed her on top of his lap.
It was then.
“I am thinking of going back to school and finish off my studies soon,” Harry broke the silence, sitting upright and he wiped Lolleta’s mouth whilst pecking her nonstop.
The reaction of his family was instantaneous.
His father, Bishop Gerald McGuire, didn’t even look up from his plate.
He continued to cut his meat with surgical precision, the silver knife screeching against the fine china ignorant of Harry’s presence in his house.
To Gerald, the subtle peace of his family had ended the moment Harry returned with a child who carried the “blood of demons.” He saw Lolleta not as a granddaughter, but as a living scar, a Mayfair stain on the McGuire’s legacy.
“If you wish to walk back into the wolf’s den and commit another sin, then go ahead.
Andrew is whom you’re chasing after isn’t it?” Gerald said, his voice cold and gravelly, “Once you fall pregnant through his abominable ways again, do not expect me to clean after you and pay for the burial when they finish you off.”
“Gerald, honey!”
Lucy McGuire let out a sharp, stifled gasp, her hand flying to her chest.
She looked toward Harry’s chest, where Lolleta was peacefully sucking on her bottle, whom was unaware that her world was about to shift for the unpredictable.
“Harry, no you shouldn’t go back there,” Lucy pleaded, her voice trembling.
“It’s too soon. You’ve just lost your brother. And not to mention, the child… she’s too young and attached to only you. She won’t understand why you’re gone and-…”
She leaned forward, her eyes searching her son’s hardened face.
“And I can’t lose you too, Harry. That place is no good place for you, Andrew is there. If you go back now, you’re putting yourself right in his hands and what if he decides that he wants his ‘experiment’ back, what will you do then?”
Harry quickly turned to face his mother, defensively.
“Lolleta is not an experiment Mother, she is my child. Don’t call her that.”
“I’m sorry I’m sorry, I’m just really worried.” She sighed, truly worried about her son’s safety.
She has already lost two, she can’t lose another.
“Perhaps we should find you another school, there are many good schools out there.
“No… no, we can’t do that.”
Harry looked at his mother, and for a second, the cold mask slipped, revealing the raw, burning rage underneath.
“I can’t always run away from Andrew, it is pointless anyway because he already has Lolleta and me on his palms, Mom,” Harry whispered, patting Lolleta’s head gently as he caresses her face, shushing her to sleep.
“She has his blood and he has her future. He is Lolleta’s biological father, therefore he has every right to be in her life.” He admitted
“My only fear is him taking Lolleta away from me, so if I stay here and hide, I am just waiting for him to come and take her from me in the most agonising way just to spite me…I am powerless as I am against him and he is ‘Thee’ Andrew Mayfair backed by his powerful family’s name and his grandfather but compared to him I have no one.”
“You have me!”
“Mom you know what I mean.”
He chomped down on his lower lip, with a drooping shrug evidently concerned.
Harry knows very well that he is not Lolleta’s biological father but what if Andrew eventually finds out the truth as well?, won’t he immediately demand Lolleta’s full custody as the sole biological parent?
Harry huffed as he stood up, the chair scraping harshly against the floor and he adjusted Lolleta carefully on his arms.
“It is true that I am going back to school to catch up with my studies and mend my life back, but that is not the only reason. I am doing all of this for Lolleta’s sake as well. I am certain that I will find something on Andrew, something that will make him stay away from us even if it requires me to sell my soul.”
“Well that won’t be your first time selling your soul to the devil, isn’t it?” Lloyd smirked.
Harry found it really odd for Lloyd to be so silent throughout the entire meal but seemingly he was biding his own time seeing that he is finally so outspoken now all of a sudden.
Silence confines the room once again and Lucy sighs defeated by worry but Gerald seemed to care less.
And Noelle-…well Noelle was minding her own business, as usual because she had her own skeletons to worry about.
But she was glad to have Harry back at the house, more than anyone else.
“Harry you should take the devil’s spawn with you to the school while you’re at it, there is family housing there isn’t it?, that way we won’t be made so uncomfortable in our own house because of her presence here or else I’ll go mad. And besides you will be also closer to your lover to raise her together, like a family. You’ve always wanted that didn’t you?”
“Lloyd, shut up.”
“Make me..” He glared at Harry mockingly, but Harry sighed calming down because he didn’t see the point of arguing back.
And Lloyd was not even worth his energy to begin with.
“Yeah that’s what I thought too…you know that I’m right, after all you are the one planning to run back to him the moment that you came back from whatever hole that you hid yourself in.”
“Lloyd shut up, Harry is your brother. Don’t put him down, he needs our support the most.”
“And as for Lolleta, I will take care of her myself if I have to. She can never go there with Harry, not while I am still alive as her grandmother. If she is not welcome in this house then I will move out as well to raise her properly.”
Lucy chimes in and Harry smiles pecking her head feeling grateful.
“Thank you mom, you are really my angel and the true example of a believer. Unlike some people who preach about God and forgiveness and love but still harbor hatred in their hearts.” Harry glances at Gerald and Gerald glares back at him
“Yes I’m talking about you, and you know what I’m saying is true.” Harry clicks his tongue walking away with the sleeping Lolleta in his arms
“We’ll leave first…goodnight.”
He walks away from them heading straight to his room and leaving silence behind him.
Lloyd frowns watching Harry walk away disappearing to the other side of the house and he scoffs tossing away his cutlery, agitated.
‘Just why did he come back?…
wasn’t the scorn hurtful enough for him to stay away from the family?….from my wealth?.
Fuck!, just when I thought with Malfoy gone I would be the only heir left, but this bitch decides to come back now out of all times….right, I can’t have this, he needs to go.’
“Please excuse me as well, I’ll head to bed early.” Noelle’s personal maid spoke up, translating Noelle’s hand gestures as she stood up, preparing to leave for bed.
“Okay sweetheart, go get some rest it has been a long day.” Lucy reassured her with a smile and Noelle faintly smiled back making her way down the hallway, and just then Lloyd also followed suit.
“Me too I will go to bed now. Mother, father have yourselves a pleasant sleep throughout the night.” Gerald just nodded excusing them to leave and Lloyd took his chance to follow behind Noelle, heading straight to her room as well.
It was like a routine only known to the two of them, leaving the table first right after dinner and trail their way straight to Noelle’s room which was far from the family’s sight.
The servants kept to themselves and said no word about what they see and hear when they walk past Noelle’s room during the midst of the night.
Including her personal maid.
“The dinner felt so long because of Harry’s baseless rambling, I nearly lost my patience and stripped you right there and then to ease my hunger.” Lloyd spoke softly as he locked the door behind him, carefully making his way towards Noelle whom was quietly seated at the edge of the bed, patiently waiting for him and clasping her fist tightly at the hem of her dress.
Noelle said no word to him as she watched him slowly approach her with a grin plastered on his face full of hunger, he looked like a predator ready to pounce at her at any moment’s notice with no concern for her emotions.
He knew what he wanted from her, and he was about to get it one way or another.
Noelle kept to herself, silently.
She had forgotten how to break the unsettling silence in her room that was filled by his agonising movements.
After all without a voice she was powerless.
But most of all she was scared of him.
She was even scared to breathe the same air as him, not to mention of how his eyes had glimmered under the moonlight as he always looked at her like she was his treasured toy…his gaze was so obsessive and crazed, but he spared no care for her.
Even his touch felt horrifically cold on her skin, specifically on her thighs, and it made her insides churn with sickness that filled her stomach and chest, threatening to rise to her throat and settle there like a lump of bile.
She couldn’t get used to him even after all of these years of being exposed to his unadulterated fantasies and desires.
No, at the first place she was not supposed to get used to his treatment…it was wrong and hurtful.
But it was not as painful as how helpless she was underneath him.
“Tonight you’re unusually stiff Noelle… what’s wrong?…are you still scared of me even after all these years of doing this with me?”
He leaned closer with a faint chuckle…he threatening to kiss her, but Noelle unknowingly pulled away from his hold, utterly frightened.
But she immediately regretted it the moment she realised his gaze had turned stiff with a taunt of cold.
It sent chills down her spine, he looked mercilessly crazed and his eyes were haunting.
She wanted to run…but her path was blocked.
She couldn’t even scream.
“Ack!”
Noelle barely shrieked, as the hottest slap had landed across her face causing her to fall on the bed.
“Haaaa Noelle Noelle Noelle, do you see what you’ve just made me do now?, hurting your beautiful face hurts my feelings too you know?” He grunted, rubbing his stinging palm as he lunched closer to her, Noelle instinctively covered her face defensively, tears threatening her eyes.
But Lloyd only found pleasure in her agony, this miserable ‘wretch’ underneath him could do nothing to fight him back and save herself, she was helpless against him and he could do whatever he wanted to her.
After all it’s not like anyone would come to her rescue.
Even if she ran to their parents for help they wouldn’t understand a thing she made out with her hands.
After all he paid her personal maid, her sole translator quite handsomely to even think of betraying him.
But that never applied to Harry, he understood sign language very well.
But then again Harry was not there to stay for too long, he’d soon leave for school too and leave his daughter behind…another helpless toy for him play with and spite Harry to death.
Lloyd chuckled licking his lips as he grabbed Noelle by her hair and he yanked her closer to his face…
smirking dirty.
“Now.. without further ado, shall we do what we do best my loving sister?”
Noelle shuddered holding back her tears from falling.
Lloyd threw himself on top of her, kissing her hungrily like she was his last meal.
Well…in someway she was.
Noelle clutched tight the end of her sheets as she cried and screamed in agony from inside.
And in her mind, she was crying and calling out for help….even if her voice had failed her, she was still hopeful that Harry might come to save her.
******
NOW THE STORY HAVE BEGUN!