Originally written for Ginny_lv_harry at the Lucius/Hermione fic exchange on LJ, but she dropped out. I swear, my recipients always freaking drop out! UGH. Here was the prompt: Hermione and Lucius fall in love somehow...no one knows they married. Hermione was kidnapped, gang raped, and or tortured...in front of Lucius, can't stop if from happening. A hurt/comfort post rape/torture Lucius showing her how much he still loves her and wants her. PLEASE READ!With that in mind, let me just say this: while the story is dark-ish, I spared the reader quite a bit when it comes to the non-con/rape scene. In fact, it's very much off-screen. Lucius' reaction to Hermione's mental state and physical being, however, could be a bit triggery. READ WITH CAUTION. Usual Disclaimer: I'm not Jo Rowling, and I'm having way too much fun with this dystopian society. ;)
It shouldn't have been this way.
All the glory, the triumph, the absolute power of Voldemort's victory amounted to nothing more than vain and empty promises.
Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.
How true that prophecy had been, except the wrong person was still alive.
From the third floor balcony, Lucius Malfoy gazed into his extensive gardens in the evening dusk, his eyes narrowing and lips pursing in turn. In the past, he and Narcissa would stroll in those same gardens as twilight fell, soaking up the fragrance of night-blooming jasmine, lavender and honeysuckle.
But that had ended more than a year ago, when the Dark Lord killed her in front of Lucius as punishment for his shortcomings. At the time, he had not dared react to the emptiness he'd witnessed in her beautiful blue eyes, left sightless by the Killing Curse. The only visible signs of Lucius' immense distress had been the shudders of his frame while Voldemort had cast iIncendio/i on her limp body, destroying the witch who had stood by Lucius through it all.
"Now there is nothing to distract your attention from your duties," the Dark Lord said with a wave of his hand.
Lucius sniffed discreetly, inhaling a whiff of the jasmine his wife had loved. No tears filled his eyes, his bottom lip did not quiver, his facial muscles did not twitch. Taking a page from Severus Snape's book, Lucius did not deign to show any emotion at all.
"Time to find more rats!"
A delicate cup of tea in hand, Lucius paused briefly. "You know I am not allowed to go on these expeditions, Bella." Seeing his former sister-in-law's sneer, he quickly took a sip and replaced the china cup on the saucer.
Sneering at his declaration, Bellatrix sidled up behind his chair, wrapped strands of Lucius' hair around her small fist and tugged hard. "Our Lord wishes for your company this night, dear brother," she purred in his ear.
Snape, who was sitting across from Lucius, arched a brow. "I was not informed of an addition to the party."
Bellatrix looked over at Snape and narrowed her eyes while still keeping Lucius' head pinned at an awkward and uncomfortable angle, her wand firmly against his jaw. "He told me, Snape."
"Did he?" Snape's lips thinned in annoyance. "Do let go of Lucius' hair. The Dark Lord would be quite put out if you soiled it further. You know how he likes to pet the poor wretch."
Lucius did not react to Snape's thinly-veiled allusion to his being Voldemort's current plaything. He had long ago buried any vestige of pride when Draco had failed one mission too many and joined his mother in death, courtesy of Dolohov. Something had broken on the day that Draco had been murdered; something that had clung to fragile hope within the darkest corners of his soul even after Narcissa was gone.
Now, there was nothing. No bright and shining new era to usher in the changes the Dark Lord implemented. No promised power to be given. No rewards for faithful service, only retribution for infractions, real or perceived. One did as one was told, there were no second chances. Punishment was swift, there was no such thing as mercy.
Lucius was utterly alone.
Bellatrix tsk'd, released Lucius' hair and violently shoved his head forward in obvious disgust. "Someday you'll lose your precious locks, Malfoy, and then you'll be back in your own dungeons to become part of the filth."
A curtain of platinum hair hid Lucius' face, for which he was glad. He merely nodded, hoping she would return to whatever malicious obsession usually occupied her time. His movements stilled when Bella ran her fingers through the strands in an obscene parody of tenderness, her razor-sharp nails nicking his scalp.
"Ickle Lucy best be ready by nine, or –"
"Mistress Lestrange, the Dark Lord wishes –"
She dropped her hand from Lucius' hair and turned sharply. "How dare you interrupt me! Crucio!"
Just inside the door Percy Weasley dropped to his knees, hitting the floor in convulsions. His dirty hands clutched at the crude collar around his neck. One of three Weasleys to survive the onslaught in the aftermath of the Dark Lord's victory. He, like his siblings, had been gifted to certain Death Eaters, as tribute to their service.
How Percy had survived this long was anybody's guess.
Bella renewed the curse as it faded and Percy writhed in pain, gasping cries when he could catch his breath.
"You'll kill him," Snape remarked offhandedly, glancing at the now barely-twitching ginger wizard.
Bellatrix ceased the curse and immediately turned her wand on Snape. "Why do you care, traitor?"
"I don't. I merely wish to avoid being saddled with the duty of finding you a replacement, should you break your toy."
Lucius couldn't help the slight smirk that twitched at the corner of his lips. He wisely remained hidden behind his hair. "Where are we going tonight?" he dared to ask.
A maniacal gleam shone in Bellatrix's eyes. "London."
With a slight nod, Lucius whispered, "I'll be ready at half eight."
Bellatrix snorted. She walked over to where Percy lay whimpering, grabbed a fistful of red curls, and dragged the sobbing man out of the room, her delight in Weasley's cries evident by her shrill laughter.
"I cannot go with you tonight." Severus' tone was pensive.
Lucius tried not to let his hand shake when he picked up his cup to sip his tea once more, but knew he had failed, as the china rattled. "It matters not," he said resignedly.
Nothing mattered anymore.
Devoid of a wand for almost a year, Lucius stared with trepidation at the apparently abandoned Muggle house. "What is this place?" It was one thing to go into a situation armed, quite another to serve as nothing more than glorified prey for the enemy.
Anton Dolohov shoved past him, deliberately knocking Lucius off-balance with his shoulder. "Someone of interest used to reside here, if you must know."
Lucius was about to retort when he felt a long-fingered hand rest on his head and begin petting him. "Now, now, Dolohov," Voldemort chided. "You mustn't damage poor Lucius like that. He's fragile."
Muffled sniggers came from those gathered, grating on Lucius' nerves.
"Rodolphus, give Lucius your wand."
The burly Death Eater's chuckles died and he stared at Voldemort in confusion. "My Lord?"
Voldemort's red eyes flashed. "Give. Lucius. Your. Wand."
Lestrange glanced between his wife and the others in uncertainty. At Bellatrix's glare he grimaced, withdrew his wand, and gave it to the Dark Lord.
Voldemort turned the stick on its owner. "Crucio! Why did you delay? Did you think your wife would allow you to deny me? She is mine! You are mine!"
The group watched in uncomfortable silence as one of their own was tortured for not obeying a given order. When Voldemort tired of the wails, he uttered an abrupt Finite Incantatem and handed the wand to Lucius. "Proceed inside."
Sweat dotting his upper lip and brow, Lucius gripped the unfamiliar piece of wood and approached the innocuous-looking dwelling, stopping just short of the door. Magic was infused into the very structure – recognisable magic at that – and it made him extremely uneasy. The wards were so strong that he could not at first discern even the most minuscule flaw that would reveal the secrets they hid.
"Do not test my patience, Lucius," Voldemort warned behind him.
Lucius nodded and set about searching the intricate patterns for a single loose thread that would allow him… there! A weakness in one of the charms meant to disguise the house from the wizarding world. Normally he wouldn't have picked up on it; that the flaw was detectable, even though the spell-caster had imbued a great deal of their strength into the charm, could only mean one thing: the witch or wizard who cast it was weakening.
Once he had unravelled the strongest of the protection spells, he cautiously laid his hand on the wood surface of the door. Receiving only a mild tingle, he sighed in relief. "It is now safe, my Lord."
"You see, my friends? Lucius Malfoy is good for something," Voldemort said patronisingly.
Lucius dropped his head, refusing to listen to the jeers and laughter as the Death Eaters filed past him and into the house. Rodolphus stopped long enough to snatch back his wand, muttering under his breath that Lucius should've been killed instead of Narcissa; she would have at least provided several nights' worth of entertainment. Lucius' fists clenched at the sordid remark. If you dare lay a hand on my wife…
The thought halted as abruptly as it had begun. There was no one left to harm, not anyone that Lucius cared for at least. The ache in his chest, that had subsided somewhat over the past year, flared to vicious life.
"Move." Voldemort pushed Lucius forward.
Lucius stumbled past the entrance and winced when someone muttered a Lumos maxima that illuminated the first floor living area. There was evidence that the home had been inhabited, but not recently. Debris, such as shattered glass and broken furniture, littered the floor. There were also scraps of paper and torn curtains. Scorch marks could be seen on the walls.
"Fan out. Search everywhere. Leave nothing unchecked." At Voldemort's command, the Death Eaters scattered to the four corners.
Lucius remained rooted to the spot. He'd learned long ago to stay at Voldemort's side unless he was specifically told to do otherwise. The long scar down the back of his left thigh was evidence of that lesson. Lucius knew he was nothing more than a human shield for the Dark Lord on trips like these; in his deepest heart, he wished some foolish Muggle, or even more foolhardy wizard, would try to dispose of the powerful being and kill Lucius instead.
Bellatrix reappeared twenty minutes later, thoroughly frustrated. "My Lord, I told you he was lying!"
Voldemort bared his teeth, snarling. "I have told you never to question my judgement where Severus is concerned. Must I repeat myself?"
Bellatrix brushed her throat with stained fingertips and backed away, her face contrite. "No, my Lord. Your word is law."
The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes. "Yet you continually contradict me. I believe a lesson is in order." He beckoned her closer.
Lucius took some satisfaction at the tremor he observed in Narcissa's sister. It would serve the bitch right if the Dark Lord were to Incendio her on the spot. Though Lucius was never in the Dark Lord's company when he lavished his attention on Bellatrix, it was clear the witch was fearful of going with him now.
"Lucius, stay until the others have completed their search. I will send Snape to fetch you once he returns from my errand." Voldemort wrapped his fingers around Bellatrix's throat and Apparated them both away.
The snapping echo and ensuing silence unnerved Lucius. He knew there were three others in the house but he wanted little truck with them. Quietly, he moved from room to room on the first floor, pausing occasionally to open doors and peer inside. Cobwebs decorated an old pantry. A distinct smell of mildew and mould hit him strongly in the face when he opened a heavy door towards the back of the house and found a large metal box with a round glass door on the front, through which he could see some articles of Muggle clothing. He quickly shut the door and moved on, intending to return to the entryway, when he heard it.
A muffled grunt.
Several crashes from above drew Lucius' attention. He listened intently for a few moments, watching the staircase for his fellow associates. When none appeared, he returned to the room where the large box was located and slowly opened the door, just enough to see inside without being seen himself. Soft rustling emanated from the machine. Soon, slim fingers peeked over the edge, past the round glass. They were followed by a slender arm and a shaggy-haired head. The woman – Lucius could now tell that the person was female – eased out of the cramped opening and peered around.
She was not much to look at from Lucius' vantage point: on the skinny side, with a wild mane of hair that fell almost to the top of her admittedly pert arse. A hodge-podge of clothing covered her body, as if she'd snatched or stolen garments when and where she could. Nothing matched, including the shoes, and most of the clothing was ill-fitting. When she dipped her hand into her right trouser pocket, however, he had to contain a gasp as she pulled out a wand.
A wand that he'd seen countless times: Bellatrix's old curved walnut.
"Find something, Lucius?" Rodolphus asked, startling him.
Lucius quickly glanced into the room and saw that the witch had frozen in place, her eyes wide with fear. He cleared his throat. "No. Nothing but some Muggle apparatus. The room reeks, if you must know."
Dolohov joined Rodolphus and studied the door. "You sure, Malfoy? The Dark Lord said not to overlook anything."
Hoping the witch had had the good sense to take the opportunity to Disillusion herself, Lucius opened the door wide with a sweep of his arm. The stench nearly bowled them over. He coughed and waved his hand for them to inspect the room.
Both Death Eaters retreated, their arms covering their noses. "Smells like something died in there," Dolohov choked out. He tugged on Lestrange's arm. "Come on. There's nothing here."
The two of them retreated to the living room. Dolohov called to Rabastan and, once they gathered, disappeared with the crack of Apparition, leaving Lucius to fend for himself.
Eyes watering, Lucius returned his attention to the small dank room and muttered, "Cease this putrefying odour and show yourself."
Within seconds, the stink faded to almost nothing. Able to now peer into the room, Lucius searched the small area. Clearly she was clever, whoever she was. "Show yourself," he said a little more forcefully.
He heard vague movement amongst the shadows and a whispered, "No."
Shock ran through him. He knew that voice! But it couldn't be… She was number one on their 'most desired' list – most desired to capture, kill, maim, or torture. The chit had evaded their best spies and even the Dark Lord himself for over a year, yet here she was, within his grasp.
He could taste his freedom already!
"Come out, Miss Granger." A sharp intake of air told him that he had guessed right. "They're gone."
"Not quite."
Lucius spun to face Snape, his eyes widening. "I... I can explain, Severus."
Snape arched a brow. "Is that so? And just what is it you feel a need to explain?" He darted a glance at the small room. "That you plan to do the washing for our slovenly brothers-in-arms?"
The tension grew for a moment, and then broke as Snape pushed Lucius to the side and entered the utility room. Though the light was dim, there was enough to cast shadows upon the walls. If Snape found Granger…
"I see my instincts serve me well," came the low and seductive voice from within the shadows.
Lucius closed his eyes in resignation.
He heard a hasty Expelliarmus, followed by an indignant yelp, then Snape was dragging a thrashing woman out by her waist. He deposited her next to Lucius and aimed his wand at the both of them. "You were saying, Lucius? You can explain... this?" His voice dripped disgust.
Lucius dared a sidelong glance at the witch. She was even more dishevelled up close. She turned to look at him and he frowned in confusion. The innocence that had previously clung to her during her earlier 'visit' to Malfoy Manor what seemed like ages ago was gone, replaced by a hard vacancy behind her eyes. He knew that look well. It was common for those of the wizarding world who opposed the Dark Lord, those Muggle-borns and blood traitors that fought against every implementation of the new regime, to acquire that brutal emptiness from too many defeats. This witch had it in spades. But what disturbed him most was not the filth of her heritage, nor the disaster of her person. No, what caused him real fear was the knowledge that his own gaze reflected the hopelessness of hers.
"Well?" Snape barked, startling Lucius and Hermione from their intense study of one another.
Lucius swallowed. At heart, he was a survivor, no matter what it took, and it would take great finagling to dissuade Snape from handing him over to Voldemort. "I heard a noise and was set to investigate, when you arrived."
"How convenient," Snape drawled, clearly not believing him. "One could possibly accept that as truth. However, having been here for quite some time, I know it is not."
Coldness gripped Lucius as he realised the dire straits of his situation. His face remained impassive, but his stomach crawled with nausea. Voldemort was not one to forgive a betrayal and Snape would delight in telling him of this one. Had he paid closer attention to the signature of the wards, would he have recognised Snape's hand in things? If this was a test, then Lucius had failed miserably. The Dark Lord did love to indulge in such 'games', to have his Death Eaters prove their loyalty again and again.
"I understand," Lucius said quietly. If he was to meet his end, he would go with the last shred of dignity he still possessed.
Snape snorted. "You understand nothing." He turned his attention to Granger. "You were foolish to return here."
Lucius could feel her bristle next to him. "I had my reasons," she ground out, her voice harsh from disuse.
"No doubt." Snape studied her at great length. "Give me your hand."
True panic finally brought fire to the woman's eyes. "No!" She tried to back away, but Snape latched onto her right wrist before she could get very far.
She struggled for a moment, before Snape pressed the tip of his wand to the underside of her wrist, causing her to cease moving. "Lucius, your right hand. Place it over hers."
Lucius puzzled over Snape's behaviour. What was the man doing? Why did he not kill Granger, and haul Lucius himself before the Dark Lord on charges of treason? Was this another test? Perhaps all was not lost. Hesitantly, Lucius laid his hand over Granger's, surprised at how cool and thin her fingers were. Surprise gave way to pain as the coolness changed to a searing, burning agony that shot through his arm.
"Stop!" Lucius shouted. He twisted his hand and arm, trying to let go of her hand, but to no avail. She was obviously feeling the same sensations; he could hear suppressed whimpers as they both struggled vainly to separate their hands. "What are you doing?" But the pain only intensified, driving them even to clawing at their respective forearms and leaving trails of scratches.
Even as he and Granger fought in silence against the strange force holding them together, Lucius saw that Snape was performing a range of intricate wand manoeuvres over their linked hands, muttering a spell under his breath in what sounded suspiciously like Gaelic. A silver and gold thread materialized and wove itself snakelike around their arms, glowing brighter and brighter. Then, as Snape uttered the last syllable and lowered his wand, it sank into their skin where Lucius felt it throb with a life of its own.
A last brief flare of pain and then his hand was suddenly free from Granger's. "What the bloody hell was that?" he snarled, not caring whether it earned Snape's ire.
Snape tucked his wand inside the cuff of his robes, crossed his arms and nodded at both of them. "As much as this does not excite me, you are now bonded to one another for a year and a day."
"What?" Granger's echoing sentiment came only a second after Lucius' own. He turned and looked at her and she stared back at him, clearly as appalled as he was.
"Is this the Dark Lord's doing, Severus?" Lucius asked. Voldemort had many ways of degrading him on a daily basis, but this was beyond comprehension. Unless he simply found amusement in permanently linking the proudest pure-blood among his followers to a Mudblood, this was beyond the pale.
Snape said nothing, only studied Lucius pensively. Finally, having apparently decided on something, he said, "Miss Granger cannot enter Malfoy Manor on her own. Her previous 'visit' was facilitated only because those in residence wished her to enter. Under normal circumstances, the ancestral blood wards would refuse her entry and kill her in a most gruesome manner. However, since she is now bonded to you, she may accompany us back to headquarters without triggering any type of spells that would alert others to her presence."
"I'm not going to Malfoy Manor!" she spat, rubbing the red criss-cross marks that laced her right forearm. "Once was enough."
Lucius frowned. "Why should she return with us? Were you not sent here to kill her?"
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, as though Lucius were a particularly stupid First Year. "I recently came into some information that has allowed me to track Granger's whereabouts. I have known of her movements for the past two months. If I wanted to kill her, she would have been dead before she drew her next breath on the first day I found her."
Granger kicked a kitchen cabinet in a fit of pique. "I knew I shouldn't have used the wand," she muttered.
"That is not what gave you away," Snape said. "My information came from a very reliable source and had nothing to do with your use of Bellatrix's wand."
"I travel alone. Who could possibly –"
"Did you have to bind us, Severus?" Lucius gritted out. "I don't care how you knew where she was. I want to know why I was forced into a bond with a Mudblood!" His voice rose to a shout on the last word.
"As if I want to be bound to you!" Granger snarled.
Lucius turned cold grey eyes on her. "You should be grateful a pure-blood would deign to look at you!"
"When I imagined all the wretched things that could happen in my life, this was never one of them!"
"Then you lack imagination!"
An amused chuckle cut Lucius and Hermione's bickering short. "Listen to the pair of you. You act as if you've been married for more years than I care to count."
Lucius could feel his mouth twist in a moue of disgust. "When considering this termagant, marriage is not a word… it's a sentence."
"I've come across rotting bodies that were less offensive than you," she snapped back.
Lucius was about to let loose another scathing retort, when he heard the distinct crack of Apparition. Without another word Snape shoved them into the utility room together and shut the door tightly after them.
There was movement outside and soon voices could be heard, though Lucius could not identify the speakers. Granger chose that moment to whimper. That would not do. Lucius stepped behind her, placed his hand over her mouth and pulled her close against him, spitting a wayward strand of brown hair out of his mouth. She fought him at first, but stilled as the voices came closer. Words were inaudible; probably a Muffliato Charm, he thought.
Figures passed by the sliver of light that shone under the door and Granger began to tremble. Lucius wondered if she had discerned any of the conversation; perhaps if he had, he would be trembling as well. As it was, he had not, and he was distracted from further speculation by the softness of Granger's cheek under his fingers. He felt her swallow and had a disturbing urge to caress the skin of her slender, white neck.
The door handle turned slightly. Granger stifled a gasp, and Lucius felt a tear drop onto the fingers covering her mouth. He had to calm her, or they would be found. "Shhh," he whispered, so low he could barely hear himself.
She nodded slowly and actually pressed back further into his embrace.
The handle stopped moving. They heard a sharp slap, followed by a thud against the outer wall. An angry voice rose and then suddenly fell silent. Another scuffle and several cracks. When there had been no noise of any sort for more than ten minutes, Lucius relaxed his hold on Granger and let out a pent up breath.
"What happened?" she asked softly.
"I don't know." He was about to offer a theory when the door flew open, revealing Snape swaying in the doorway, his face covered with cuts and bruises.
Without thought, Lucius stepped forward and caught the other wizard before he hit the floor.
Surprisingly, Granger came to his assistance, supporting Snape on the other side, and together they pulled him into the room and let him rest against the wall.
Lucius noted Snape's rapidly swelling left eye. "What happened?"
Snape withdrew his wand, aimed it at his face, muttered an Episkey, and the swelling around his eye decreased noticeably. "The Dark Lord is displeased with me." He touched the side of his nose and winced. "I told him that Miss Granger had evaded capture once more."
Granger sat back on her heels. "Why would you do that for me?"
Snape openly stared at Granger, as though surprised she did not already know the answer. "Because the task is not yet complete."
Lucius turned at her sharp breath. "What is he talking about?"
"What is it?" she asked, ignoring Lucius' question, all her attention on the black-haired wizard on the floor. "What have we missed?"
"The snake," Snape said.
"Will someone tell me what in Merlin's name is going on?" Lucius ground out.
Snape closed his eyes, obviously weary. Granger glanced at Lucius. "Horcruxes," she said. "The Dark Lord made Horcruxes for himself, to achieve immortality." Tears welled in her eyes but she brushed them away and cleared her throat. "Harry died when the one within him was destroyed."
"Potter was a Horcrux?" Lucius's legs gave way, and he dropped to the floor next to Snape, his mind racing. "Zeus' arse."
Did Voldemort know this about Potter? Of course he did; that's why he was so insistent upon killing the boy himself. And, if Lucius was correct in his understanding about 'the snake', then Nagini was also a Horcrux. What would happen when – if – the serpent perished? The vile thing stayed close to the Dark Lord almost at all times, so how would a person go about killing it? So many angles to consider, and if he were not sitting down at that moment, he would surely have slumped to the ground in a dead faint.
This changed everything.