A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but I do plan to have the next chapter out at some point by this weekend. Just been dealing with a death in the family this past week and it's been a weird emotional headspace for me due to it and then the absolute chaos of dealing with personal belongings being sorted out and family drama. Thanks as always though guys with your patience in my oddball publishing schedule.

The musical inspo on repeat for when I was writing this was actually twofold- Don't Cry by Dave Gahan & Soul Savers and the more on the nose Mercy In You by Depeche Mode. I just really felt especially with Mercy In You the vibe fit a lot with the conflicting feelings Lucius is starting to have with wanting to give in to being this terrible man made monster and yet wanting to feel someone actually see him as just a man again.

Chapter Seven / Mercy In You

It was a three hundred and forty six heartbeats before he let go of her. Three hundred and forty six sounded so massive when he said it out loud to the still air surrounding him but it didn't feel long enough at all. It didn't feel long enough when he knew there was always a chance he may never feel this way again. Her hands were starting to shake with chills though from his body and he regretfully let her hands rest softly above their carefully dug tunnel keeping them from total division. With his long sharp nailed fingers he scooped small amounts of dirt to cover the bluest of her fingertips to keep them from the just as icy air. The warmth of her hands still lingered across his forehead as it burned with longing to return to them. Laying his head on the ground beside her hands he turned and stared silently at the sky through his cell window pondering if it was already reaching early autumn. While the night air was chilly at best the days were still soaked with a tepid heat. When the dew was just soaking in the sun rose and the birds soaring free in the sky sang with hearty tunes, blissfully unaware of the sorrows that surrounded them. He wondered what it would be like to be a bird flying free and burdened only by the changing climates. The magic of flying by broom must feel so entirely different than flying with only your body powering you so naturally. A corvid would suit him quite well, he thought. Closing his eyes for a moment he could almost picture stretching his silky feathers out preparing for flight. He pictured Hermione to be a lively little nightingale, rustling charred brown feathers and constantly singing. He knew well enough from his son's complaints that she was known for endless chatter but in this space her voice was better than any songs. If only she were that little bird she was in his imagination, then he could set her free through the bars in his cells and let her loose back into the world that she belonged to. He'd made his path with the sins he chose, but she had done nothing but follow orders given to her by those who could use her all believing naivety to save their world. Much like him, she'd been given no real choice from a young age because the will of the elders always overpowers the lives of the youth. If you didn't fall in line then your life was very much on the line. To himself though he mused that at least her choice was one that aligned with her own beliefs, it was something to take solace in. Could solace make up for loss though? He didn't know.

As she fell deeper into her sleep she started to snore in a disjointed pattern that roused Lucius from his thoughts. Turning back towards her he pushed as far as he could into the hole catching only an angled look at her face above her arm. What wasn't covered by her matted shorn curls that dangled over her face looked rather rough. Dried blood and snot crusted around her cheeks and a swollen lump was forming along the bridge of her nose. Even dried and flaking off her skin the blood pulsed in his vision, pleading him to look at it. With every moment longer that he looked at it the veins just beneath the hollows of her eyes thrummed louder calling to him. Thumping and thumping in the sweetest cacophony he'd ever heard. If he listened hard enough he could almost make a melody out of the rushing sounds they made flowing to and from her heart. The saccharine honeyed tune of a song bird rising in the morn. Focusing with all his dwindling strength he steered his gaze back to her bruising nose. Shadows of indigo and azure were seeping down her face as her capillaries leaked just underneath. From the way it looked it was likely her nose was broken when she was thrown back into her cell face first. A rumbling spread through his chest as his body involuntarily growled thinking of the things he would do to Dolohov if he ever got out of his cage. Jostling at the noise Hermione tossed in her sleep pulling back her hands from the hole to draw in to herself to sleep in a curled fetal position. Though he'd been no longer holding her hands he felt a tender pain in his chest at their loss, missing them being so close to him. It was more than he felt he deserved in the first place but the loss was immeasurable because of that. Someone like him was owed nothing let alone being able to touch someone like her. Even in the shape she was in he thought to himself that she was one of the more lovely beings he'd ever been able to observe. She was strong willed and triumphed through pains that would put lesser men in the ground. Though her body was fragile enough to be snapped and broken her soul steeled itself through the thick of it. In her position he knew he'd have already found a way out even if it was through choking on his own blood.

The last of the moonlight had disappeared into the shades of sunrise as he heard the captives on the floors above them scream and roar as they beat themselves against their prisons. Hermione bolted awake at the commotion and in her sleepy daze started pushing the dirt back into the hole in the wall. Without a word Lucius joined from his end and patted down the gap once it was filled. They didn't have to say out loud what they already knew. The beast was coming and he was stalking down the halls like the minotaur winding through his infernal maze. Inching his back against the wall between them he pulled his legs in towards himself and whispered to her. He wasn't sure yet if he could turn towards her with what he was about to say. Even if she couldn't actually see the grimace on his face he couldn't bear to be perceived with it.

"You don't have to start today if you're not strong enough yet. If you die, the plan means nothing."

His voice faltered, if she died it meant more to him than he was willing to speak out loud or even admit to himself. The growing feelings he felt for her still scared him immensely and made him feel a shame he'd not felt in ages. She was something so treasured and sacred to him in this space. Something he felt he had to protect even if he had to lay his own shame down at her feet. Continuing, he appealed to her without making it seem as though he was begging, even if he almost wanted to.

"I would not fault you if you chose docility today."

The regal timber in his normal tone held strong as he tried to keep his language neutral. He'd more than had it beat into him enough as a child to know how to maintain himself even when his heart rioted perilously for him to just be emotional for once. Leaning his head back against the crumbling bricks he listened intently for her to give him some sort of reply, any, that would indicate his words didn't fall on deaf ears.

"I'm tired of feeling helpless. I don't know if I can live with myself if I don't at least try to fight back now. Could you live with yourself if you just let it happen to you? I can't shut my brain down, it's such a traitor. I wish I could just turn it all off and let it happen. I can't though. I want to feel like I did something just so that I can one day sleep at night knowing I could fight back if it happened again. Isn't that so foolish?"

Her voice was rough and exhausted even with the sleep she'd finally gotten. Looking at his window as the sunbeams started to ebb and flow across the bars he knew the answer that he'd give her even though he hated it. Sighing deeply he spoke to her the words he knew she needed to hear.

"No, it's not foolish. I understand why you have made that choice and I cannot begrudge you it. It's in your heart to be brave in the face of evil."

Even in the face of him, he thought. She'd never shown him real fear even when she should. For once his heart though dead and shriveling won out and he spoke softer than he'd ever spoken to her.

"Please…just make sure you don't cross the line."

Sinking down sideways he laid on his side and this time turned towards the wall, unwilling to turn his back on her as she went through the worst moments of her life all over again. Though he could do nothing to stop it from happening he figured the best he could offer was the solitude of making sure she didn't feel alone through it. His stomach twisted within him with the looming knowledge of what was likely to come and knowing he could no longer just tune it out. It felt sickening to be so tense when he wasn't even the one who would be facing the brunt of it. Once more he felt like that small timid child watching his father commit atrocities over and over again, splashing him with the blood from his hands in the process. Only this time it was her blood and it felt hot enough to burn through his skin down to the bones.

"I will try not to, for you."

The words were uttered against the wall like a solemn prayer and he could hear her lips graze the stone as she pulled away. Heavy footsteps were thundering down the stairs to the cellar where they were held hostage. Mournfully, Lucius closed his eyes tight, it was going to be a bloodbath. As she skittered across the floor towards the back wall to steady herself for the onslaught, he replied in his own penance like a forgotten God trying to offer the last of his gifts to his only remaining devotee.

"Je suis là, petit soleil."