A/N: Long time no see! I'm still working on the chapter after this and how to play things out so I pushed off posting this chapter to fill the gap. This one is a little short, but that's because the next ones far longer and action filled. Hope you're all doing well! As usual, I was spinning a track on repeat while writing through this one, mainly All Night Long by Peter Murphy.

Chapter Eleven / Of Dreams That Would Be

When dawn broke salvation found him begging at her feet for a final hope; a beleaguered and worn out prayer that he never dreamed would be answered. So when she answered him with her golden tongue and endearing words he broke through a cry and promised he'd never let her regret it. Time had passed faster than a spring downpour with his body seizing leaving him unaware for so long of her frantic cries as she dug her way to him. The golden rays swam through his blurred vision filling his body with scorching flush heat and he beat against himself with agony waiting for her to bless him with her gift. Whether it was hallucinations or his vampiric sense wilting to decay he wasn't sure but when he felt her scabbed knuckles brush against his cheek, beckoning and reaching out to him, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Squirming towards the thin gap between the wall and the end of the sun's reach his eyes locked into her pale and emaciated arm. Her scent flooded his mind and his throat as it doubtlessly registered for him that it was her blood dripping from her arm. Unable to resist, he reached back for her and brought her arm to his parched lips, lapping at the saccharine nectar he craved so blindly. Her breath drew in ragged at the sensation of his dagger sharp teeth grazing against her tender open wound. It wasn't long however for the intoxicating venom from his mouth to seep into her and her world started to ease and melt at the feeling. As she sunk slack against the earthen floor he withdrew in fear, dropping her arm on his chest.

Gently, he picked her wrist back up and checked for a pulse, finding it still there quietly thrumming against his ears once he focused enough to hear it. Relief flooded through him as he rested her arm once more back against his chest, but this time laying his own on top of it and cradling her hand inside of his own. With the sun just close enough to tickle his skin in warning he considered retreating to the back wall of total safety as he usually preferred, but the weight of her arm against his chest felt like a solid steel anchor tying him to her despite the danger. If he had to crash the boat of his own escape to sink with her, he knew that he would do it in just one of her heartbeats. Caressing her knuckles with his fingers he realized he could at least repay her a minor penance for now. Bringing his fingers to his mouth he licked against the pad of his thumb before bringing them back to her knuckles and rubbing at the scabs on her knuckles. With each stroke the scabs fell away and the delicate skin knit itself back together until only faint white scarring remained. Once pleased that he'd healed every scratch and scrape on her hand he entwined their fingers again and closed his eyes as his body soaked in the sustenance it was bellowing for. He'd already noticed his vision had become crisper, more vibrant and attuned to even the particles of dust that flitted through the air like moths. The constant raw ache in his throat had also subsided along with the brutal pain that assaulted his torso from Arcturus's attack. Using his free hand he tangled his fist beneath his tattered shirt and felt not a single wound remained. She had given him so much when he had nothing and if she asked he'd give his life for hers in repayment for this alone.

"Did it work?"

Her voice fell upon him like honey and he squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Yes, more than you could ever know. Thank you, truly. I thought you may have fallen asleep from the effects of the venom so I didn't want to rouse you. Are you feeling alright?"

She squeezed his hand back feeling the full length of his broad hand covering hers.

"A bit drained, you might say."

He clicked his tongue but held back a laugh at her cheeky word play.

"You were just waiting to say that weren't you?"

"Oh, absolutely I couldn't pass up the opportunity."

They both let free the laughter they were holding back, letting the tension of the previous few hours roll away for a brief moment. As their laughter subsided they settled into a peaceful rare moment of comfortable silence with him still holding her hand and breathing in the life she'd returned to him with its beautiful scent. He knew she'd have questions but he feared having to answer them just as much as he was sure she feared asking them. Just a small moment of silence, no questions, no horrid tales, and no worries about each day to come, it was a blessing. Their plans to escape were going to have to come even sooner than they were prepared for now that the timeline had been tightened by Arcturus' mangled claws. Feeling her hand grow lax in his he knew she'd finally fallen into a nap she likely desperately needed. Allowing his eyes to rest once more to ward off the still glaring rays of the sun he let himself slip into the closest thing of sleep his body could now produce. As his muscles relaxed his regeneration stretched through the fibers of his being and ignited the parts of him that had not been activated since his turning.

Willing his mind to shut off he welcomed the black hollow entombment of his mind only to be met with visions of his past. Rotten claws wiggling inside his body like maggots feasting on their prey. Lashings for his disobedience with his dark lord's tasks. The sickly sweet ache of the open wounds stitching closed as an innocent's blood offered extended life. A son's disappointment conveyed by eyes that mirrored his own. The body of a lost loved one reduced to ash and blackened bones in his still young hands. And another loved one's fleeting shadow chasing away towards dreams they'd abandoned for another. The feeling of his own fathers hands gripped tight around his throat until dark spots littered his vision and unconsciousness threatened him. Silent nights with no one but the voice inside his head telling him all the horrible things that awaited him when he finally left this cursed mortal coil. But one thing reprieved him from the darkest horrors of his mind. The way her warm hand felt in his own, against his unbeating and cold chest. Though he knew she could never be his, he could always have this memory to lighten the bleakest corridors of his haunted eternity.

When he opened his eyes once more the sunshine in the room had retreated leaving behind a dusky peach haze that suited his eyesight far better. Stretching and shaking out the joints in his spine he realized her arm was no longer on his chest and the loss of its weight struck him deeply in the empty chambers of his heart. Pulling himself back up to sit against the wall he listened against the bricks for any sounds of her movement.

Nothing.

No movement.

No breathing.

No heartbeat.

She was gone.

Frantic, he ran to the door through the still stinging rays of the dying sun and grabbed onto the doors silver bars, burning his palms but searching through the visible hallways for anyone or anything. Not a single sound was passing through the corridors of their floor and as he listened closer he realized not a single sound was passing through even the floors above. It was entirely dead silent through the prison and then he realized with gut wrenching shock what was happening. The only time the prison had ever been charmed silent was when the dark lord had deigned to visit the manor. He had likely called upon her to visit which meant there were even more likely to be revels with other prisoners dragged to the festival floors for entertainment. While he knew in his heart there was no way the dark lord would kill off his best bait for Potter, it still terrified him of the other things that could be done to break her spirit. Especially if Dolohov was eager to spill about her restless refusal to let him win. All he could hope for now is that Dolohov's insane obsession with the girl would keep him from letting the dark lord punish her too viciously. Dolohov himself was a beast of cruelty, but Lucius knew from past experience with the man that when he got too wound up on one of his "pets" he was uniquely territorial of anyone else hurting them.

It was a nauseating thought for him to have to rely on that mad man, but it was the only thing that could quell the fury rising inside him as he finally relented and released the grip his hands on the bar, his flesh searing and sizzling under the silver. It wasn't long before they started healing, her blood still roaring through his veins and calming him from further wasting her precious gift. Now more than ever he needed to make it last in case her return required further action. With no idea of the state she'd return in, if she did indeed return at all, he needed all the power he could get. And so began the longest night of his life since his turning as he paced along the dimming edges of light in his room and listened acutely for any sounds to return. As he paced he repeated in hushed whispers to himself his promise to her, a prayer once more to anything out there that would listen, that she would not regret befriending him. The sun retreated and the moon reigned once more in her starry sky but his feet kept ever moving across his preset path waiting for the journey to split into another route.