Disclosure Hp belongs to JKR. The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property. Glorioux

Willing Victim

The child

Ah, all the sensory impressions also told him this wasn't a dream; most of all, the warm hand was on his arm's crook. He knew the one causing his distress was real; thus, Miss Granger shouldn't move her hand. It was where it should be right at that moment. The silk he held had a calming effect, making him wonder where 'it' had come from.

Her other small hand moved and gently held his wrist over the sleeve, not touching his bare skin; nevertheless, a wave of magical well-being cursed thru his veins. It granted him a short escape from the torments of thinking. The terrible memories and regret kept going during all his waken hours.

"We are still looking, and we haven't given up on finding Draco; I cannot, you see, Scorpius, and I need him. Your grandson will be here in less than fifteen weeks, and he wishes his father to welcome him into this world. So would you please help us find him?" She spoke hesitantly, knowing this was a mistake.

He heard her swallow, probably taking a deep breath. Her words brought a wave of anxiety, and he needed to listen carefully. He drank a long sip of Firewhiskey; he needed to calm his rapidly beating heart. The words he might have heard couldn't be right.

"We all recognize that you were disappointed when he joined us, a group whose goal is to reform the current regime. It was never against you personally, but against the general ideology. It was about the widespread abuse of power; against the policies which allow the common disregard for basic human rights and the value of every human life." A deep sigh halted her speech for an instant, her hand trembled on his wrist, and its former warmth was gone; it was now pure ice.

He cringed at the cold sensation. "Draco truly loves you and would never intentionally hurt you. I know you know who we are, so be the father he loves, and please help us locate him. His enemies should be yours; furthermore, you have the power and resources, and we have the needed intelligence." Her voice was full of conviction and hope.

The flow of words had come to him from behind a waterfall; he had heard something that couldn't be right. The one sitting by him was the Mudblood, the one for whom his young golden wizard had betrayed his blood. She was the one who dragged his son into the murky world of the underground guerrilla; she took him deep into the shadowy world of the cold war. Into the place created to force change on idiots like himself, Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy. He would still have his family if he had bent just a little; instead, he held on. He knew the worse truth; this was the land he governed, cleverly disguised as the benevolent Minister of Magic.

Those who took his son might be working for him; she was right on that point. And he understood the truth, how his efforts to ignore the accumulating evidence were behind his instability, making him lose his mind. The guilt and the inertia to take corrective action were corroding him inside. He was afraid to find out that one of his officials had been behind it, that it had been a deed done on his behalf, and perhaps a deed executed to please him. He was sick just thinking someone had hurt his precious Draco, his beloved son.

Somehow aware, she waited for his response, and he made an effort to answer from the middle of the deep abyss where his dark and twisted soul now dwelled. He made an effort to think. It was a deceitful world of smoke and mirrors, where Dear Eaters were leaders dressed in fancy dark robes, feeding the masses lies about the winds of change. All done while they murdered, appropriated, and committed atrocities without impunity.

Yes, the realm where he, Lucius Malfoy, was the Master Puppeteer, or the new and improved Dark Lord. A world made possible by Harry Potter, the Gryffindor princess, and the Blood traitor. And they had even kept him and his family off Azkaban, the irony of all.

Lucius was the true deceiver, just as Draco had labeled him the day he wrongly accused him of issuing Harry's curse. He was responsible for the heinous act of repaying kindness with poison. He finally spoke. The weight and meaning of his words stopped his internal dialogue; what had she said? No, no, no, she was wrong! Lucius' inner actor screamed.

He found his voice, low and angry; he spoke between clenched teeth, "You lie; it isn't possible. Why? Because my son was happily married to the one who legally deserved his name. Draco, my son, couldn't have..."

Before he could finish, her hand grabbed his hand forcefully. She made him lay it over her growing belly.

"Here, feel it, and then call me a liar." His men jumped at her sudden action, which they had assessed as aggressive, and readied their wands, to disable her.

Her now warm hand had the feel of the softest silk; the delicate and small palm covering his had seared his skin, feeling like burning coals. He gritted his teeth todrown the expression of the 'discomfort' he now experienced on his lower body. His lids felt heavy, and his body responded to the unbidden sensations.

It was a dark-indigo crystalline light with tendrils of fire twisting around it. Above her belly, the transparent form of a male fetus floated; the small perfect hand was within his reach. Lucius's heart contracted when a maelstrom of conflictive emotions flooded his brain.

She carried a Malfoy baby, a male, it was unquestionable, and his magic was great. His expression registered amazement, followed by an unexpected angry snarl, a nasty possessive growl. His voice came out biting and hard, and he looked at her with surprise and intense indignation. His reaction was unexpected, and it filled her with concern.

"The one you carry under your breast, he is not YOUR Scorpius as you erroneously claim! Sadly, you are mistaken because he belongs to me, the Malfoy's house, and me as his Lord."

He sneered, gifting her a chilly stare, filling her with pure dread. He continued with a menacing voice. Her eyes saw the dark aura surrounding Lucius.

His anger was back, "The baby is full of powerful magic. Look at the 'flames' around him; those are currents of the purest magic. Cannot you see that there are so many of them?" He looked at her, sneering before continuing, "His magic core is exceptional, and you...you," he was so angry that he had to drink before continuing. "You dared to come into this filthy den of iniquity carrying my future, bringing him into this place?"

Once he had unleashed his furious response, his eyes changed when he looked down again and fixed upon her belly. This time she could see the reverence in the steely grey eyes. Never before she had witnessed this persona, this Lucius with his mien softened.

"You cannot continue your existence in the shadowy world. You must return to the job you deserve; nobody occupies it and waits for you. You have no right to endanger Draco's son; he is all I have left from him; you owe me this." His demeanor was changing; gone was the angry snake, and he leaned forward towards her making sure his leg touched hers; he pressed more firmly. Draco's cologne and his scent surrounded her, lulling her senses.

"It is not against you, my dear; you must know how grateful I am for bringing him back to his grandfather." His voice had turned seductive, low, and enticing; he was the snake enthralling its unsuspecting prey. His eyes were the color of silver, the pupils dilated, and his nostrils flared as the predator displayed his enchantments.

She listened to his hypnotic drawl, looking at his sensual lips as they spewed his discourse. A thick layer of praise-flavored-frosting covered his speech, yet, it was no less insulting or accusatory. Behind the sweetness, a steel edge left no doubt. It was a law to be obeyed, a command. Oh dear God, what had she done? She was full of a new awareness and was afraid. Yes, she should have listened to her closest friends. They all had been correct in their assessments and concerned advice.

She had just become his willing prisoner. No need to find her; of course not; she had freely walked right into the snake pit. She had lacked one ounce of self-preservation, just focused on her want to beg for her beloved wizard. Damn, she had thrown all caution to the winds and refused to listen to her brilliant mind and the advice of her friends and supporters. She was doomed.

She had insisted that he wouldn't dare to behave inappropriately in such a public place. Now, he wouldn't let her go, however, not for the same reasons her group feared, but for personal reasons only known to Lucius, the monster, himself.

The brief smile had left Lucius' lips, and his hands had turned ice-cold; angst and fear had taken hold of him.

He just had a realization, and pictures of abysmal events flashed across his mind. 'Had the order that I recently, thoughtlessly, issued taken place then what?,' Lucius thought, choking, stopping to breathe. But Lucius had to listen to his infernal inner actor, who kept talking, 'What if someone had executed my directive to capture and bring her down if she resisted? Gods, they would have murdered mother and son. I almost ended it all.'

A cold chill ran through him, and his body visibly shuddered upon the realization of what could have happened tonight; yes, this very night, there had existed a strong possibility that Goyle and company could have seen her first. His ghoulish thought made him ill, and bile rose to his throat.

Once again, justice pointed its finger at him, and it adjudicated full deserved blame. He fully acknowledged his guilt, albeit of any claims of his ignorance of the Malfoy heir's existence. Because of his intransigency, he forced them to inhabit dangerous places, scurrying and hiding like fugitives. He did that to the mother and the babe living inside her womb.

The sudden awareness of the possible outcome of his actions froze his blood. It made him unreasonably furious, irritable, not at his person, but at the world.

He knew that he would have to ensure their protection, and to accomplish this goal, it was imperative to take her out of this place by force if needed. He wanted her away from a drinking establishment, where others could come close to her and where others, presently, shared the same air breathed by her precious cargo.

The place they were at was a disreputable den. Just look at the décor, at the clientele, at the locale where lustful and undeserving wizards might be able to see her, touch her, and want her body. At once, righteous indignation filled him, and intense jealousy overwhelmed him. He wanted to proclaim her body a place of worship, a shrine.

Suppose the Malfoy magic had allowed conception while Draco was married to his lawful Pureblood wife. In that case, she, Hermione Granger, must be unique. He thought and concluded that she was a treasure whose life he had nearly destroyed during her damn war against him. He was sure that she was the ring leader. He smirked at the thought; although it shouldn't since it fought his regime, it filled him with absolute pride. Yes, she was very intelligent. Thus, the baby would be without equal; it was the only possibility with Draco and her as parents.

Another thought captured his mind. Miss Granger. had really forfeited her rights when he had corroborated that she carried his hope; what had she been thinking about seeking him in this place? The mere idea of one of his goons hurting a Malfoy heir made him shake with abject terror.

No, he knew that any actions against her would have been his fault, and he held no illusions about his innocence. Furthermore, he could see how, once again, his actions had nearly destroyed all that was left. It was clear to him that he had to protect the two in front of him. After all, they were his by the old laws from the first scrolls.

It was his fault that Narcissa had ended her own life, ashamed of all the pain and destruction in his wake. She jumped into a murky sea during their visit to Ireland; nobody could stop her. It was impossible to rescue her or find her body when they noticed. It was also his fault that Draco had been taken and was now missing. Everything was his fault, and if that weren't enough, he had nearly ended his line. It was time to begin his amends, to do something before it was too late.

Hermione's brown eyes were fixed on him, looking at his eyes calculating at the speed of light. She could almost see his mind's gears in action, rapid blinks processing, planning, and calculating some diabolical machination. She was certain that it was too late, way too late by the time she had become all too aware of the folly of her actions.

She looked around the crowded pub; she needed to get away from this place. Her conviction was further substantiated by looking at Malfoy once again. The Dark wizard's persona emanated feral power and madness. She tried to call Draco in her mind and only found a tall wall, one she was unable to breach. But it wasn't an empty void; there was a blockage, which gave her hope. She had neither felt Draco since he was taken nor had felt his death.

The place was crawling with the nouveau-government members. They were the new elite, composed of the opportunists who had chosen to forget the sacrifices made on their behalf. They preferred to forget Harry, who was in a coma in St Mungo three years ago, high up on the ranks when he was an Auror.

They had been out, the trio, eating lunch in a popular eatery, and some unknown cloaked wizard, who easily escaped, had cast a spell that had put him into a coma. Ron closely followed; while at work at the store and testing a new trick, he had clutched his chest and died of a massive heart attack, and then there was only her left.

And the list went on. Most of the leftover ones lived in the shadows, hiding from the new regime, even those who had been given positions of power or money like Hermione.

She still sat at her job or did until six weeks ago, when she had taken a leave of absence approved by Lucius Malfoy's deputy. She waited until he had gone on a trip to the Continent, as he had announced during the staff meeting. She was the head of the new ministry of Magical Creature affairs, where she was fairly untouchable. Society started to take notice after Draco's taking; the voices of the people were clamoring for investigations; thus, carefully orchestrated caution was being exercised by the new government.

It was no surprise that people followed her life; she was the only one left from the golden trio. Hermione was the golden child, and even former Death Eaters noticed her; after all, she had helped many of them get out of Azkaban. She was courted by more than one house as a breeding mare. Old families pursued her; their willingness to overlook her blood was driven by their wish to inject their lines with a dose of her powerful magic. It was becoming harder and harder to turn suitors down. Some had even offered protection against Malfoy. Soon, if Draco were gone, she would make her choice. At least the one she chose also cared for Draco.

At least four more of her companions were inside; she finally located George at her left. Others were scattered around the crowded and noisy club. Oh dear God, what have I done? She thought that for the second time this evening.