AN: Two updates in one week. The following characters do not belong to me, as they are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Brothers, etc. Read, enjoy, review. Let me know what you think!
"Malfoy – Draco, I understand if you're angry with me, but please – don't shut him out. He loves you. He's doing everything he can to make sure you, and all of us, are safe."
He rolled his eyes and laughed softly. "Granger, I'm not angry with you, and Lucius and I are fine. I'm upset that he didn't tell me about all of this, but I see now why he wouldn't have. I understand."
She whirled around, robes fluttering in the breeze she created. Her enormous smile lit up her eyes. "Then why aren't you speaking to him?"
"I want to go with you. There's nothing for me here, and you'll need help with the sprog. I always wanted a brother or sister." He pouted almost as well as his father. Clearly, he'd learned from the best.
Hermione touched her belly, hidden by the folds of her robes; she'd felt them move earlier that morning.
"Wait, you mean he's not told you?"
"Told me what, Granger?"
"There's more than one."
He reached out with one hand, nearly touching her stomach, but pulled back. "Apologies."
She flashed him a smile. "Draco, it's alright. I'm not sure you can feel them moving yet, but Lucius says they call to him."
Hesitantly, as if he were waiting her her to slap his hand away, Draco placed his palm on her barely rounded belly. He closed his eyes, reached out for his bloodline. And there they were. Two tiny new lives, pulsing and flickering under his hand.
It was beautiful. Someday, he thought, he would have the same.
"I know what he means. I think it's blood magic, what he uses to feel them, but it's more natural than anything else. It's like they're just inside my veins."
"It's called sensing, Draco, and I can feel them inside my heart," Lucius called. His voice was quiet, and they turned to find him leaning against his desk. "Just like I felt you. They're my progeny, so I feel them closer than you do. You have the same blood, my blood, coursing through your veins, so it's only expected that that is where you would feel them best." He pushed off from the desk and dragged one hand across Hermione's abdomen, touched his unborn children, and then his adult son.
Draco smiled the memory, and eyed his former schoolmate carefully. She'd been good for them, better than he ever could have imagined. It terrified him to think that she might succumb to the curse that threatened to tear her away from them.
"You'll be alright?"
She nodded. "Lucius seems to think so. He is, as usual, confident in his abilities." She kissed his cheek gently. "Take good care of the children. No more ice cream before bed. And don't allow your little tarts to paw all over them."
The tips of his ears darkened pink. "Lucien is a tattle-tale."
"He doesn't possess your or Lucius' skill at concealing the truth, not yet, anyway." Her eyed sparkled with mirth and Draco curled his lip. Her Gryffindor honesty had far too much influence on their developing minds.
He watched as she kissed each of the children, holding them for longer than he'd ever seen her do before. When she parted from Helena, there were tears shining against her cheeks. "Oh fuck. You'll be fine, Granger." He collected the witch into his arms and hugged her tightly. "Lucius won't let anything happen to you – he won't allow it. You're a Malfoy now, and he looks after what's his." With a parting squeeze, he passed the her to the waiting arms of his father. It took several minutes to herd the children into the Floo by pairs, one older and one younger in each. After Lysander and Hera had gone, he turned to the couple clinging to one another and smiled tightly. "Let me know when it's done. As soon as it's done. I'll bring them right back."
She wasn't ready. Wasn't sure that she'd ever be ready. Tears streamed down her petal soft cheeks while Lucius rocked her back and forth. "I'm scared." She'd be unable to stop the flow of tears after dinner ended, after she kissed the children goodbye. They'd been sent off with Draco, to his townhouse in London. It was safer for them there, in case anything went wrong, and Draco would ensure they were well taken care of.
"Pet," he tried, in a strangled voice, cursing when he fumbled over his words. "I love you, pet. I love you more than anything in this world." His grip was so tight, nearly crushing. He held her as if she were the last thing on earth, clinging to her with his all. And maybe for him, she was. "I won't let you go. I didn't before, and I'm not about to begin. You're mine, mine, pet. Draco was right. I take care of what's mine."
He kissed her. Plundered her mouth with his tongue, ravished her lips. Possessed her. Lucius' elegant fingers turned rough and desperate and he clawed at her skin and clothes. "I must."
Their coupling was violent, even by their standards. He pounded into her as if it might be the last time he'd feel her wet heat wrapped around him, and she gripped the sheets so hard her fingers hurt.
By the end of things, she was bruised and bloodied. He'd dug his fingertips into her hips, the deep purple marks already rising to the surface of her milky flesh. Bite marks, some weeping blood, lined the column of her throat, down past her shoulders.
Lucius hadn't escaped unscathed, either. His tiny wife was by no means a delicate creature. She'd left gashes along the length of his muscled back, so deep that he was sure they would scar. It was the most primal form of blood magic. There had been no spells or incantations, no wands or potions. Only man and woman.
A sob caught in Hermione's throat when she met his eyes.
"It's time." It was the same voice he always used to calm her, the one that hearkened back to summer days spent in the stables. She spooked easily still, much like the untamed beasts his father tried to heel. He kissed her once again, gentler this time. "We mustn't delay."
The opalescent strings of Hermione's magic glowed above her body, shot through with iridescent beads. Lucius gasped. His tiny witch was full of power - more than he'd ever seen before - and it humbled him.
Nearest to her heart, the light grew brighter, pulsed with the rhythm of the steadily beating organ. And at her womb, two more orbs of brilliant light sparkled. His children burned brightly, their magic intertwined with their mother's. He caressed the strands gently – reverently – and continued the thorough examination.
The problem, he discovered, was in the curse wound tightly around her spinal cord, up into her brain stem. It was spreading. Tendrils of the murky brown-black shadow grew with each pulse of her magic. With her essence suspended above her body, Lucius began the tedious task of untangling the curse from his wife.
He spent hours carefully separating Bellatrix' parting gift from Hermione while Severus stood guard. Each layer was more difficult than the last, and as he got closer to its core, the oldest parts of the curse, he met with more resistance. The darkness clung to her stubbornly, refused to let go. Bellatrix was nothing if not determined. Instead of being wrapped around her brain stem, as he'd initially believed, the curse was wound through it, as if it'd been stitched.
Exhaustion set in, but Lucius pushed through, willing his fingers to remain steady. This wasn't work for foolish wand waving. He was infinitely more adept at directing healing magic through his hands, especially for such delicate tasks as this. They'd called him a natural healer, blessed. If it meant he could save Hermione, then he considered it so.
Finally the remnants of the curse gave way. He breathed a sigh of relief. The last of the darkest magic he'd ever felt faded under his ministrations and was consumed by his magic. Their magic.
In order to direct Hermione's magic back into her delicate little body, he would have to first funnel it through himself. Too much all at once would be a shock to her adult system – and could potentially destroy her.
Severus, acting as Bondsman, was to regulate the flow of magic through Lucius back into his witch. His was a position of great honor and esteem, and even if he hadn't precisely volunteered to assist, he was obliged to do so. It was, after all, his idea to form the seventh bond.
He would be, in essence, giving Hermione entirely to Lucius. As if she didn't belong to him already.
He took his place behind Luicus, and steadied the man's shoulders with his hands. Instantly he felt a surge of power. It had begun.
For another two hours, Severus watched as Lucius took control of Hermione through her magic. He could choose to leave her powerless , keeping it for himself – such was the nature of the ritual.
But he wouldn't – couldn't – take from her. She was his, entirely, but he would only have her whole.
The last to go were the brilliantly sparkling orbs of their children. Lucius cradled the tiny lights in his hands, awestruck. Two lives, two utterly vibrant lives, fit in the palm of one hand. He'd helped to make them.
A perfect combination of he and Hermione, their magic was entirely complimentary. He recognized bolts of creamy opalescence as hers, shot through with shards of icy blue crystal - his.
He was almost reluctant to part with them, but Severus tightened his grip ever so slightly in warning. You must put them back. Reluctantly, he willed the lights back into Hermione without passing them through himself.
They weren't his. Not like she was.
After a beat, Severus closed the ritual with a lyrical incantation that would seal Hermione's magic back in her body. The rush of power he'd felt slowly dissipated, and he groaned with relief. It was finished. He knelt beside the blond wizard and wept with him.
Hermione Malfoy had not yet woken.