Seventh Year, Part 6, 1997

Lucius was waiting for her in that front room where she always landed, and he was an absolute vision. He could have been in Death Eater robes, covered in dirt and blood, horrifically injured, and she still would have wept at the sight of him, so relieved was she that he was alive and well. She flung herself into his arms, sobbing hysterically into his shirt and waistcoat.

"You didn't respond! All this time, you didn't respond! I thought you were dead," she sobbed.

"Shhh...calm yourself, pet," he said soothingly, stroking her dirty, tangled curls. "I was regrettably detained by the Dark Lord and was not in a position to respond to you until today."

She reacted by tightening her hold on him and didn't move until he apparated them both to the spacious lavatory adjacent to his bedroom.

"You are filthy. What on earth have you been doing?" he asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Camping."

"What?"

"We don't exactly have a lot of places we can safely hide at the moment," she said, a tinge of regret creeping into her voice.

He calmly and silently stripped her of her clothes.

"Mipsy!"

Hermione wiped at the snot on her face and tried to cover herself as a small female elf popped into the lavatory.

"Launder these and return them to the wardrobe. I will have need of you later."

"Mipsy is happy to serve the master!"

Her clothes popped away with the elf, leaving her painfully aware of her nakedness.

"Lucius, where have you been? Why didn't you respond to me before?" she asked.

"You are a fright. Into the shower," he said firmly, pushing her into the glass and marble enclosure. She was about to protest being manhandled, particularly since she did not want to be away from him, but the hot water felt better than anything had in weeks.

"When you are properly cleansed, you may join me in the bedroom," he called to her over the roar of the water. "I will answer your questions then."

~oOo~

She thought perhaps that Lucius would be undressed and waiting for her in bed when she finished her shower. Mipsy had taken her clothes, so Hermione emerged from the lavatory wrapped in a thick, fluffy hunter green towel.

Lucius was standing in front of a roaring fire, dressed in just his shirt and trousers. He turned when she walked into the room.

"Feel better?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She wanted details about where he'd been and what he'd been doing in service to Voldemort, she really did, but she was with Lucius, and they were alone, and all she could think about in that moment was getting him into bed. She wasn't sure what came over her, but in a rush of Gryffindor bravery, she unwound the towel and dropped it on the floor. His eyes raked over her naked form, and she shivered under his perusal.

"I'll feel much better when you're naked too," she said, moving toward the bed.

He smirked at her and reached for the buckle on his belt.

They came together on the bed, Lucius still partially dressed as he tangled a hand in her wet curls and pulled her against him forcefully. Their kiss was hungry and desperate, lips, tongues, and teeth moving in a frenzy.

"I was so worried about you," she breathed when they came up for air.

"And I you. You have no idea… when you said that YOU had been at Grimmauld... You stupid, stupid witch!" he hissed. "You could have been killed!"

She clung to him, shoving at his unbuttoned shirt, desperate to feel his skin against her own.

"I wasn't. I wouldn't have been. Your shielding spells, the defenses you taught me, I used it," she insisted.

He bit her ear lobe and then the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "You are too valuable to lose, pet."

She blinked back tears and wrapped herself around him. "I love you, love you so much," she whispered.

He moved down her body, his mouth closing around her nipple and suckling hard. Her body bowed, back arching from the bed, as he robbed her of coherent speech.

Their lovemaking was frenzied and intense. She wanted to touch him everywhere, to memorise the angles and curves of his body, the firm muscles and smooth skin. She wanted to feel him in her mouth and her throat, to draw groans of pleasure from his beautiful lips. She knew not when she'd see him again, knew that each day, each night, could be the last either of them walked this earth, and if it was – god forbid – she wanted to know that she had pleased him, enjoyed him, loved him as much as she possibly could.

He reveled in her passion, guiding her hands, her mouth, manipulating her body just so and wringing orgasms from her until she felt boneless and limp and utterly spent. She finally collapsed on top of him, and he let her rest there for a moment before shifting her beside him on the bed. They rested in peaceable silence until she felt in control enough of her physical and mental faculties to question him.

"NOW will you tell me where the hell you've been for the last few weeks?" she asked once he caught his breath. He slapped her bum sharply, a rebuke for her tone she was certain.

"Calm yourself. I was not aware that you and your friends were staying at Grimmauld Place. Had I been, I would have warned you against it," he said as he stretched out on the bed.

"Why?"

"That elf, Walburga's."

"Kreacher?"

"Yes."

"I think he belonged to Sirius's brother Regulus."

"It matters not. He belongs to the Black family and is loyal to them."

"Are you… are you saying Kreacher betrayed us?" she asked in horror.

"Yes pet, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"But he's bound to Sirius. Sirius wouldn't have given him permission to just TELL someone where we were!"

"He's bound to the Black FAMILY."

She opened her mouth to respond and then stopped. He arched an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, I see you've figured it out," he said. "Narcissa is a Black. She made the connection that neither she nor Bellatrix had been to that property in years and suspected that Sirius could be hiding there. I assume it was secret-kept, but they'd been there as children and knew the location. She told Bellatrix, and well… you know the rest."

"She called Kreacher," Hermione whispered. She knew Harry's godfather and the elderly elf hated one another, but she hadn't realised Kreacher could betray Sirius to another member of the family.

"She did, and he was more than happy to sell out Sirius to another member of the Black family. He even said that 'mudblood filth and blood traitors' had 'defiled the home of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.' Bellatrix and Narcissa took that to mean Sirius was using it for something war-related, a safe house perhaps. It was most fortunate that I happened to be at the Manor to witness it all, or I would not have been able to warn you. I had no idea you were staying there."

"We barely got away. They cast anti-disapparition wards before blasting open the front of the building. We had to blast our way out of the back of the townhouse," she admitted. "I looked for you, for your mask."

"I was not there."

"I know."

"Bellatrix is...well, she's rather unstable as you know. She was adamant about leading a team to kill Sirius, and she did not want me there. Something about me trying to steal her glory," his lips twisted into a mockery of a smile. "It's for the best I was not there."

"Why is that?" she asked, wondering if he had a reason other than 'because it would be inconvenient to have to fire curses at you.'

"Because when the Dark Lord found out that Bellatrix had figured out the location of one of the Order's safe houses but neglected to notify Him, He was furious. When He found out that she had Harry Potter and his sidekicks in her sights and let them slip through her grasp, He tortured her."

Hermione winced. She held no love for Bellatrix Lestrange, but the idea of anyone being tortured didn't exactly sit well with her.

"Her entire team was subjected to the cruciatus curse, but He reserved a great deal of His anger for Bellatrix. She fancies Him, you know," he said matter of factly.

Hermione sat up in bed and stared at him in horror. "She FANCIES Him?"

"Disturbing, is it not?" he shuddered.

"Dear God, why?" Harry had told her all about Voldemort's new body - the red eyes, the lack of a nose, the horrifically snake-like appearance he'd taken on.

"Power, I assume. To be fair, He was significantly more attractive back then when I was first lured into service. The rumour even in those days was that He was fucking her."

Hermione grimaced. "I really didn't need that mental image, Lucius."

"My point in telling you this is that the Dark Lord has long had a connection to her, a closer one that He has ever had to me or to others in the inner circle."

"She has to have one of the horcruxes. Surely she does," Hermione murmured, hoping that was where he was going with this conversation.

A positively feral smile spread across his face.

"Oh she does. They all but confirmed it during the torture session," he said.

"WHAT?" She hadn't expected that.

"It's most unfortunate for the Dark Lord, you see, that so many missions have been abject failures. The Order has been far more organised and prepared than the Dark Lord dared imagine. So many trusted leaders in His inner circle, captured or killed in action in recent months," Lucius said smoothly. "Dolohov. Lestrange. Rookwood. Avery. It's so hard to find competent leaders these days."

Her eyes widened in surprise at his steady gaze, the smirk on his handsome face.

"You did that. You're eliminating the inner circle," she said in wonder at just how much Lucius was deliberately acting to help her, to help Harry.

"I prefer to think of it as securing my position. Sometimes doing so means eliminating those in my way and removing those in positions of strength."

His voice was clipped and cold. His expression hardened then, and Hermione was reminded then that the man she loved also put on a silver mask and committed acts of great violence. The very hands that caressed her body and brought her to indescribable heights of pleasure also wielded a wand in service to a madman. She fought back a shiver at the reminder of his duality and tried not to think about the things he had likely seen and done.

"Protecting my son, aiding you, protecting the people and things that matter most to me is my ultimate goal, and doing so requires that I retain my place in the Dark Lord's hierarchy," he said, sensing her discomfort. "I will not apologise for that, pet, particularly when doing so enables me to gather the information you so desperately need."

"I...I know," she whispered. She curled her body around his, offering what physical comfort she could, wishing she could take away some of what he'd surely endured.

He was quiet for a moment, until she finally prodded him.

"What makes you certain that Bellatrix Lestrange has a horcrux?" she prompted.

"Being part of the inner circle - a trusted part of the inner circle - means that one is expected to witness the punishment of those who have failed Him. The humiliation in front of your peers is part of His strategy. It keeps everyone in line and works to prevent them from conspiring with each other against Him. Or at least, I suppose that is the theory. It's hard to trust someone who has witnessed your torture, or who has tortured you himself."

"You tortured Bellatrix?"

"I did, and I will hear no comment from you about it. Had she gotten her hands on you at Grimmauld, the rats in the dungeon below Malfoy Manor would be chewing on whatever was left of your broken carcass. She is a sadist of the worst sort."

He said this so matter of factly that her stomach promptly turned over, and she thought she might be ill. He sat up in bed and glanced at the clock.

"I cannot stay much longer. Come, let us dress."

"No! Wait - you have to tell me more!" she insisted as he got out of bed and pulled on his pants.

"All of those who were at Grimmauld that night were subjected to the cruciatus curse. I was given the dubious honor of casting it on Bellatrix herself," he said. "It is horrific to watch and to cast. He was furious with her and bade me stand back so He could continue with it Himself. He questioned her effectiveness, her mental stability."

Lucius pointed Hermione to the wardrobe as he spoke, and she found her clothing there, perfectly laundered and pressed. She dressed as he continued his story, grateful for the simple luxury of clean clothing.

"Toward the end, He cleared the room of all but Bellatrix, Severus, and me. In between sessions of the cruciatus, He questioned the trust He'd placed in her, and whether He had been mistaken. Naturally, Bellatrix did her best to bow and scrape and plead for His forgiveness and mercy," Lucius said with disgust. "The Dark Lord came closer to her then and asked her how she could be trusted to keep the most valuable of His possessions safe when she could not do something as simple as prevent three teenagers from escaping."

Hermione's eyes widened for a moment, but then her shoulders sagged. "But that doesn't tell us anything we didn't already suspect."

Lucius finished buttoning his shirt and came toward her. He looked into her eyes and trailed a fingertip over her forehead and around to her temple.

"If I looked into this beautiful mind of yours, I'd see so much," he said softly. "You'd know I was there, of course. You've experienced it as I've trained you. But if you were in a great deal of pain, perhaps even suffering from repeated exposure to something as physically and mentally traumatic as, say, the cruciatus curse… well, even the best occulemens would find it difficult to keep someone out. In fact, I dare say, if you were in that much pain, you likely would not even notice an unskilled legilimens prodding at your mind."

Her mouth fell open in surprise and she stared at him in wonder.

"She swore to the Dark Lord that 'it' was safe and protected. It's a cup. A golden cup with two handles and a badger engraved on it. And it is indeed protected, in her vault at Gringotts" he said with a smirk.

At once she felt elation at the idea that Lucius had gone to such lengths to help her, but then her face fell.

"Are you not pleased, pet?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

"I am, oh believe me I am, but it's Gringotts. The vaults there are supposed to be the most secure in all of wizarding Britain," she said.

A grin spread across his face. "Then it is most fortunate that I have something you'll want."

"What?!" she asked, overwhelmed at what he had done for her, for Harry.

He reached into his robes and withdrew an envelope. "I believe you are accomplished enough to produce polyjuice, are you not?"

She nodded, not wanting to admit that she and the boys carried a supply of it in her beaded bag.

"There are a few strands of Bellatrix's hair in there, procured during her 'punishment.' Use them wisely, pet," he said with a smirk as he passed her the envelope.

She flung herself into his arms and kissed him passionately, determined to 'repay' him for his assistance before she had to leave.

"I hate to send you back," Lucius said regretfully some time later as he looked down at Hermione, who was on her knees on the bedroom floor, her lips red and swollen, her hair a mess where he'd fisted it in his hand as she'd swallowed his cock.

"I hate to leave," she admitted as he tucked himself back into his trousers and buckled his belt. "When will I see you again?"

"I do not know. It was risky bringing you here, for the same reason it was dangerous for you to be at Grimmauld."

"Mipsy can tell Narcissa?" she asked in horror.

"Mipsy is bound just to me, however, this is a Malfoy property and like it or not, Narcissa is a Malfoy. She's not had occasion to come here, but she can get here if she so desires. It's why I told you to stay away after Grimmauld. I cannot take the risk that she will come here and alert the others. And if you were found here…"

"The Dark Lord would know your loyalties are divided," she whispered, cringing at the thought of what Voldemort would do to Lucius and likely to Draco as well just to prove a point.

"Indeed. Mipsy has packed a bag for you with some supplies. It's all I am able to do at the moment."

"You've done more than enough," she gushed.

He guided her back to the sitting room where a large bag laden with food, toiletries, and other supplies was packed and waiting for her.

"Stay out of sight as much as you can," he said. "I do not know where you are staying, but I would advise that you use as many protective wards as possible. There are snatchers about, rounding up muggleborns and other 'undesirables.' If you are captured, my options are limited."

"I know. We're staying out of sight, and everything is warded. Be safe, Lucius," she replied. She wanted to ask him just how much his hands were tied. What exactly could he potentially do if she was captured by snatchers or by some arm of the Ministry? Could he claim her as his personal prisoner? Recommend she be kept alive as a means of luring Harry into a trap? She fought back a shudder just thinking of it. Perhaps it was better not to know.

"Go now pet, before I am called away," he said quietly.

She added a lightweight charm to the bag and adjusted the strap over her shoulder before pressing one last desperate kiss to his lips. And then in a swirl of magic, she was gone.

~oOo~

Thank you so much for all your wonderful continued feedback. I love reading what you think it coming up next for Hermione and Lucius! I don't like to clog up the story itself with long author's notes, but if you have questions you don't want to post in a review, I'm always happy to chat with readers via PM or on tumblr at .com. I've also got a long list of Lucius/Hermione fanfiction recommendations on tumblr.

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Cheers,

Elle