A/N: Welcome to the freak show that is my mind.
Thank you for the overwhelming interest for this story! Your reviews were the best inspiration ever!
2
Hermione had watched the three Malfoy men erect the wards around their ancestral estate early the next morning. It was nothing short of awe inspiring. She could feel the ripple of the magic wash over her, surrounding her in a blanket of security. The way that the spells swirled around her made her smile. Vapor animals gamboled around them. In fact, these wards reminded her of a Patronus. It was a soothing balm to her raw emotions.
As the wards were raised, house elves began streaming back in. Where, once they had fled for their lives, they now sought the protection of the powerful re-emerging family. Hermione watched as they willingly bound themselves in servitude for the protection of a family. Perhaps at one time Hermione would have been angered at the injustice. Abraxas didn't even offer them pay or vacation but he welcomed them, all three hundred or so that sought sanctuary.
"What are you going to do with all of them?" She asked Abraxas as he sat next to her in the newly refurbished dining room. The only room worth sitting in at the moment.
"Do? Whatever do you mean? They will care for the family and Manor as they are bound to do and we will provide them with the means and protections that being bound to a family affords."
Lucius walked in perfectly coiffed as if he had never been dead, as if he never stopped wearing the most expensive and exquisitely tailored robes. He walked up behind her chair and leaned in, dropping a sweet kiss on her temple that made her stomach clench.
"Morning, Poppet." He whispered in her ear before sauntering to his seat across from her.
"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy."
"Call me, Lucius."
"Lucius."
"What are you planning on doing today, Father?" Lucius asked Abraxas as he spread his linen napkin across his lap.
"I am going to set the blood and kin wards around the perimeter of the Malfoy lands." He said absently as Lucius nodded in approval.
"I am going to contact Gringotts and make sure they reopen the vaults."
"Excellent! What are you going to do today, Hermione?" Abraxas asked.
"Look for the time turner. I still need to save Harry and Ron."
"I am sorry, Love, we don't have a time turner."
Hermione looked pleadingly at Lucius hoping that he would contradict. He didn't.
"Why don't you go to the Prophecy room. There is a wall with your name on it." Lucius winked.
"There are prophecies about me?"
"One."
"Then why an entire wall?"
Abraxas and Lucius smirked, ignoring the question in favor of eating their breakfast. She eyed them suspiciously before eating the meal that a tiny house elf set in front of her. She turned to thank her but was surprised at how silently and quickly the elf disappeared.
Abraxas wiped his mouth and set his napkin to the side, his eyes focused on her. He walked around the table with a lithe grace that contradicted his body type. One man should be allowed to be so sexy. And she had three.
He leaned down so that his lips were at her ear.
"Well, Love, I'm off for the day. Are you going to send me on my way without a kiss?" He murmured. She took a deep breath, a dark red blush spreading over her skin. Abraxas chuckled and dropped a kiss on her neck, lightly sucking the skin. "Maybe next time." He walked out of the house a spring in his step.
**HGHG**
Abraxas was on the south border, watching as their heard of unicorns disappeared back into the forest. The heard had lived on the property since the Malfoy's took over the land. It was part of the agreement that they had made with the magical royalty of the time to always see to their care. When he was a boy, he would sit in this very spot and watch them as they milled around the stream. The young ones frolicking in the water as their elders grazed.
With a heavy sigh, he sat down on the grass in much the same way he did as a child. Hermione was probably starting to go through the memories set aside for her. He looked at the cloudless sky. He was so sure that he would be dead by the time she was brought into the family. At the time, he justified his actions by telling himself that he did what he did not only for the Malfoy family but her as well. He didn't think it would matter if she hated him, if he was already dead. It was too late for regret. The contract was already in effect.
He plucked a blade of grass and twirled it in his fingers. She was not going to be pleased when she saw what he had done to secure her to their family. Not that he regretted it per se, more like he wished he had gone about things differently now. After all, he was going to be her husband. It wouldn't do to start out with resentment. When she found out that he used her father's ignorance of the wizarding world, things could go south for him. He was going to have to sweet talk her out of her anger. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.
That brought a whole new level of headache producing thoughts. How was he going to share a wife with not only his son but his grandson as well? He tossed the shredded piece of grass and chuckled. Who would have guessed that they all would die before the contract could be fulfilled? It was a rotten piece of luck, that.
Last night after Hermione had barricaded herself in her room, Abraxas and Lucius sat in the study drinking a vintage bottle of cognac that had been hidden in a secret cupboard. The fire was roaring and Abraxas' features were thrown into shadow, he swirled the cognac in his tumbler. He was brooding, staring at the dancing flames.
"What went wrong?" He asked Lucius.
"Draco died."
"How could you let that happen?"
"I did everything I could. You brought that madman into our lives and not only that but you hid Hermione from me."
"You got Narcissa pregnant, Son. It had nothing to do with me. Hermione wasn't even born yet. I had everything ready and prepared. All you had to do was wait for her. That is on you. As for that madman," Abraxas sighed. "that was a mistake. He was very persuasive at the time."
"How could I have known about her? You didn't bloody say anything other than I was already betrothed."
"And you couldn't even keep it in your pants. How is that possible after the way I raised you? All of the effort of countless generations of Malfoy's, ruined. Having been told you were betrothed was not enough, you still managed to knock up the Black girl?"
"I was a stupid kid who was excited because she came on to me. She was beautiful and offered herself to me. I didn't even think twice."
"That is obvious."
They sat silently for a few moments, both prickly and defensive.
"We can't change it now." Lucius said.
"You knew Hermione would resurrect the house, in fact, you counted on it. How?"
"It was a contingency in case Draco died. A bit of magic that was tied to Hermione, herself."
"And he did die."
"Yes." Lucius agreed. He took a sip of his liqueur, his eyes never leaving his father's.
"There can be no jealousy between us. That would make her run for the hills faster than anything."
"That is not going to be easy. Malfoy's by definition are possessive and high handed."
Abraxas nodded. He knew full well.
"The three of us are going to have to be brutally honest with each other."
"You mean the four of us."
"Yes, well, our jealousies shouldn't be aired in front of Hermione."
"She will not like being kept in the dark."
Abraxas waved away the concern. Not everything was about Hermione. If they wanted to keep the family intact they would have to work it out between themselves. The fire crackled and popped, the silence deafening in the lull of their conversation.
"Where is Draco?" Lucius asked.
"Sitting outside of her door. He doesn't want to leave her unprotected."
"Why didn't you tell me about the contract or for that matter, the prophecy before you died? I had to find out from the Goblin's. That was not a pleasant surprise, let me tell you."
"Draco came home that first year from Hogwarts. He liked her then, although he never admitted it. Not that he could have, with your pureblood mania." Abraxas said. "I wanted to see if things could progress naturally. No need to force the issue if they fall for each other without interference."
"My pureblood mania? Who the hell do you think I got it from Old Man?"
"Your mother. She was a piece of work, high maintenance too. She was a Selwyn before I married her and she was a harpy when angered. Never met a woman who could nag like your mother. Our marriage was not a happy one. She married me for my wealth and I married her because my father was terrifying and I was much too young to go against him."
He trailed off into silence, having revealed nothing that Lucius hadn't already figured out on his own. He knew his parents weren't happy.
Abraxas came back to himself with a start. He looked around the hill that he was still sitting on and glanced around to detect the disturbance. He felt the wards pulse as they were being probed. He narrowed his eyes and apparated to the east side of the property, right in front of the gates.
"Can I help you gentlemen?" He asked. Two hooded Death Eaters stared at him in confusion. They were young, in their early twenties or late teens. They looked at him as if he asked them to delve into the meaning of life and magic. He waited. It was always better to wait and let the other person fill the awkward silence.
"Who are you?"
"I am the master of this property. Is there something I can help you with or are you just going to waste my time?"
"This is Malfoy Manor."
"Well spotted."
"All of the Malfoy's are dead."
"Are they now?"
The two Death Eaters nodded together like a pair of pigeons. Abraxas stared at them, making them fidget.
"You can't be here." One of them said.
"Well, possession is 9/10ths of the law, so, I am going to have to respectfully disagree."
"What do we do now?" One of them asked the other.
"What were you supposed to do if something was amiss?" Abraxas asked curiously.
"Take care of it."
"Has the Dark Lord claimed ownership of this property?"
"No but he has the owner in custody."
"Really? If the Malfoy's are all dead as you say, then who claims ownership?"
"Narcissa Malfoy."
"Why don't you boys come inside and have something to eat."
"That would be great, thanks!"
As they walked back to the Manor, Abraxas put on his biggest smile. The one he saved for the Wizengamot or the Minister of Magic when he wanted something.
"Who is your family?" He asked conversationally.
"I'm Vincent Crabbe and this is Greg Goyle."
"Have you been in the Dark Lord's service long?"
"Got our marks not long after Draco died. Once the Malfoy's proved to be traitors, the Dark Lord pulled all of our generation in for insurance."
Abraxas nodded.
"How did Narcissa survive?"
"He favors her, I think. She lives in his rooms. He shares her though, sometimes."
"You don't say. And where did you say they lived? Obviously, they aren't using the Manor anymore."
"Nah, once the Order fell, he moved into Hogwarts. He said it was more central to the fight."
"I see."
"Why are we heading towards the dungeons?" Goyle asked.
"I recently remodeled them, we keep the food down here, where it is cooler."
"Makes sense."
Abraxas led them through the winding tunnels until he came to a large, gleaming black door. Despite not being used for several years, the shine of the door was impressive. It was smooth and sleek. It had the look of obsidian, something that was very out of place for where they were currently.
"Through here boys and I will have the cook whip something up for you."
They each took a step through the door, their voices turning high pitched as they screamed in horror. Abraxas walked in after them, his pleasant mask falling away that left only a cold expression in its wake.
"This room is very special." He stepped into a role of a tour guide, his voice void of emotion as if he were describing the weather. "It conjures exactly what I need for prisoners. It can hang you by manacles from the ceiling, stretch you on the rack, waterboard you until you plead for mercy and so much more. Welcome, boys, to the famous Malfoy torture chamber. I imagine you and the room will be well acquainted with each other, soon enough."
"Who are you?" Crabbe asked. He was manacled to the wall, arms stretched wide and ankles bound together as if he were a living cross.
"Me? Oh, nobody you would remember. I am a living relic, young man, a testament to the unpredictability of powerful magic."
"What?" Crabbe said dumbly.
"The question is not what but how." And with that parting nugget of wisdom, Abraxas left the chamber, sucking the light out with him. That room was special, it would create the exact conditions needed to force information out of any person it held. There was a good reason why the Malfoy's were feared in times of war.
**HGHG**
Narcissa laid in the corner, chained to the wall like an animal. She probably didn't smell any better either. Clothing was luxury that she was quickly learning to do without, no longer blushing as she was paraded in front of Lucius' former peers. Her nightmare was complete as Voldemort walked in the door followed closely by his favorite servant, Rosier.
"Why don't you just kill me?" She rasped. It was voiced as a question but it was more along the lines of begging. She lost track of how many times she had begged for death in the last few years. The fight never truly left her, even when she saw the Dark Lord bring the unconscious form of Potter and the dead body of the youngest Weasley boy into the Great Hall, a mere few days prior. She was shocked that they hadn't killed Harry Potter. Her stomach clenched in fear. Why would they keep him alive? She was only holding on to her Occlumency shields because Hermione Granger was still at large and if Narcissa ever wanted to see her family again, she needed to protect that girl at all costs.
"I will not make the same mistake again. You would have died for them as your husband and son did for her, hence the reason I can't kill her but she is so very desirable now. Why would the lauded and valuable Malfoy family give their lives to save one lowly Mudblood? It's been years and still I am in the dark. You are my insurance, Darling. I couldn't let you die. What is worse is that I believe you don't even know why they did what they did." Voldemort baited with a croon.
Narcissa clenched her teeth and stared at the floor as Rosier moved behind her, his hands running all over her body. He stopped his exploration to cup her breasts brutally pinching her nipples between his fingers, one in each hand. Narcissa gasped. It was no good trying to keep it all in as she tried to do at first, they wanted to hear her suffer, they needed it. Sometimes she suspected that was the only way that the Dark Lord was able to get off. He was a sadist who reveled in the depravity that he found in his followers. Hopefully she wouldn't have to work for his completion this time. He only liked to use her in private, he never touched her sexually while she was being used by another.
The Dark Lord had quickly learned what would hurt her the most, make her want and need release. He loved inflicting pain, humiliating her in front of people that she knew well; he lived for the moments where she was forced to service his followers publicly. There was one horrifying night where she was forced to lick Alecto Carrow to orgasm under the table during a Death Eater meeting. It made her life nearly unbearable. Narcissa knew she was strong enough not to break but it was not easy for her to do what she needed to. They forced her and for survival, she did as she was told. It was much harder to forgive herself when it was his scaly head between her legs, his mouth on her nipples, fingers teasing. He had trained her as surely as if she were a dog; she was habituated to orgasm for him. At first, he used what she liked, moved the way she needed, then he began to introduce sadism into their sex games. Voldemort loved that he could beat her, slice her open and she would beg for more, for release. She was debased, less than a human. She was no more than what he wanted her to be. This is what it meant to sacrifice herself. Not her body but her mind. Everything was his except five memories. Only five. Everything else belonged to him. Her body, her mind, and her pleasure. She could sink no further. Save what was essential and sacrifice the rest. It was the only reason she was able to still keep her sanity.
She knew what was coming. It was always the same. It amused Voldemort to rape her mind while her body was violated. She gathered her shields around her, pulling the five of her most important memories into her core. She wrapped them in an impenetrable steel fortress, letting them sink below into a complex labyrinth. Layers of meaningless memories traced seemingly random patterns around the parameters of her mental citadel.
Voldemort's lips quirked. She was a challenge and he loved challenges. He knew that she knew exactly why the Malfoy men protected the Mudblood with their lives in the same way Lily Potter died for her son. She knew that he knew but he also knew that her occlumency was nearly as good as Severus'. So far, she had been successful at keeping him out. He was furious in the beginning but over the last two years it had transformed into something more fluid. He was impressed. Whatever she was keeping hidden must be very important indeed. Whatever game they were playing, he was determined to win.
Narcissa shook, tiny rivulets of blood ran down her arms as he pulled on the chain, forcing them above her head and on to her knees. Behind her, she could hear the metallic clink of Rosier releasing his belt and his trousers hitting the floor. Roughly he pushed her knees apart and pulled her hips into his, entering her dry. She gasped in pain as she was ripped internally, the man himself making grunting noises of pleasure as he rutted her from behind. Blood trickled down her extremities, her arms from the manacles and her thighs from the brutal rape. All she could do was brace herself with her arm on the wall and wait for them to finish. If she only had to deal with Rosier, she would sink into her mind and find solace in her memories but with Voldemort's pillaging her mind, she dared not reach for the ones that would comfort her most.
Voldemort grasped her chin and forced her eyes to meet his. She gasped, pain of her mind and body overtaking her senses as they brutalized her. This wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last. She screamed with pain, her insensate pleading filling the room.
Voldemort smirked as he sank into a memory that she tried very hard to suppress but was not behind her impenetrable wall. These weekly visits had turned into a proverbial hide and seek. She hid what she could and he hunted for it.
Narcissa was a young woman, her eyes and hopes set on the Malfoy heir. She had asked her parents to enter into marriage negotiations with the Malfoy's and was only awaiting the letter that would make her the happiest woman alive. She was sitting at the Slytherin table for breakfast when the owls swooped in, a letter tied tightly to her family owl's leg. She unfurled the scroll with shaking fingers. This was the cumulation of all of her efforts and desires.
My dearest daughter,
I regret to inform you that the Malfoy family has rejected our suit on the grounds that Lucius is already betrothed.
On a personal note sweetie, there are other men worth-while in our world. Take the time to look around and find someone that you are compatible with. The Malfoy's may be rich and powerful but there is an odd magic that clings to them. This is just as well.
Love,
Father
Narcissa sat stunned at the breakfast table. How could this be? People swirled around her, colors and lights dimmed as she sank into despair. There was no chance for her. Anger quickly took her to new thoughts. Why would he flirt with her or show interest when he was unavailable?
Her head snapped up, a devious gleam entered her eye as a new idea came to her. She was a Slytherin Pureblooded Princess, if anyone could find him a way out of his current engagement it would be her. She would not fail.
That night she waited in the common room, sending the younger students up to their dormitories, ensuring privacy. Lucius was head boy and he would be coming back from rounds any minute. She nervously ran her long slender fingers over her silver silk negligee that she wore hidden beneath her cloak. There was no going back now.
The entrance slid open allowing Lucius to stride through, his hand already on his tie and pulling the knot out. She watched him as a lion watches the antelope. With hunger. She smirked and cleared her throat while staring at the floor. The moment that she knew that she had his attention, she let her cloak slip to the floor, landing in a puddle at her stockinged feet. Flicking her eyes up to his under her lashes, she threw him a coquettish smile. There wouldn't be any doubt at what she wanted.
His eyebrows rose to his hair line, his eyes hungrily fixed on her barely concealed breasts. She started to move towards him, hips rolling seductively as she approached. Firmly she grabbed the ends of his tie and pulled him forward, a hairs-breath between their lips.
"Fuck me." She murmured.
"Merlin!" He choked before pulling her willing body into his. Hands smoothed over her perfect curves, his mouth ravaging her simpering lips.
He pushed her back, walking them both over to the couch.
Voldemort, uninterested in watching the deflowering of Narcissa Black, began once more to search for something useful.
"I'm pregnant." Narcissa said. Lucius' eyes went wide and the color drained from his face.
"How?" He choked out stupidly.
"What do you mean how?!" She whispered furiously.
"My father is going to kill me." Covering his face with a shaky hand, Lucius moaned. "What are we going to do?"
"You will have to marry me."
He looked at her in a panic.
"I can't!"
"You have to." Her face curled into a vicious snarl. "Just wait until my father hears about this." She hissed.
Voldemort pulled from her mind and followed the tracks of tears down her face. Looking like the cat that caught the canary.
"My dear Narcissa, make sure you please Rosier. After all, you are his reward."
A sob caught in her throat as she watched him walk away, leaving her to the mercy of the man abusing her body. Her glassy eyes were unfocused as she tried to block the pain by sinking into the comforting memory of the prophecy.
**HGHG**
Hermione was lost. She was starting to fear that she would wander the corridors of Malfoy Manor until she died of starvation. It never occurred to her to call on one of the house elves. Such was life.
"Are you looking for anything in particular?" Draco Malfoy drawled from behind her.
"I was trying to find to the room that the prophecies are kept in."
Draco smirked and threaded his fingers around hers in the same way he had the day he died. He tugged her, throwing a smolder over his shoulder. How come she never noticed how hott Draco was? This seemed like a massive oversight. How could she combat his sexiness if she wasn't prepared for it? Either she was being rewarded for a past life or she was being led into the deepest trenches of hell. This wasn't just some elaborate joke to humiliate Harry Potter's Mudblood was it? She doubted that she would find anything as absorbing as these Malfoy men in real life. Was she dead and just didn't realize it?
God, she hoped not.
They stopped in front of a heavy wooden door without a handle. It was a plain flat panel, a door that was at odds with the rest of the ornately decorated house. Draco lifted his other hand and caressed the center. A tall man with the Malfoy features walked onto the door. He looked like a Viking, heavily muscled and long blond hair that reached his waist. He wore leather armor with steel adornments, his sword alone could rend a tree in half. He was handsome in a dangerous way, a fierce arrogance infused in his wide stance.
"Is this her?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Come closer, Elskede."
"I'd rather not, thanks." Hermione muttered.
He chuckled and held his hand toward her, despite being a painting.
"I won't hurt you, little one."
"This is Sigurd, a Malfoy ancestor. His mother was the renowned prophetess, Feidelm. It is her prophecy that led us to you."
"Prophecies are more trouble than they are worth." Hermione announced.
Sigurd laughed and swung open allowing them to enter the room.
"You and I have a lot in common, Elskede." He yelled as they passed.
"Well, in this case, the prophecy was spot on. Here we are. The wall of Hermione Granger." Draco said as they stopped in front of a glass cabinet that was built into the wall. She looked at him with a raised brow.
"Can I ask you a question, Malfoy?"
"Only if you call me Draco." He smiled at her. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, a dazed expression slid over her face.
"Fair enough." She agreed, trying to keep herself on track and off his handsome smile. He stood next to her, closer than was healthy for her focused mind and waited. Hermione cleared her throat and closed her eyes before opening them once more.
"Why did you treat me at Hogwarts the way you did; if you had a wall of prophecies about me?"
"That's complicated. I'll start with the easy stuff. My father and I didn't know about the prophecy and memories until September 1997. We were trapped here at the Manor; the Dark Lord had moved in when Father got the most unusual summons from Gringotts. A sealed vault that was now accessible. Of course, my father went immediately. He hadn't known about the vault in question. He was quite put out. There wasn't much in there, only the one trunk. It had the prophecy among other related things. At first, we had no idea of the significance of the unsealing date. It began to make more sense after Father and I looked through everything in the sealed Malfoy vault. It was opened on your seventeenth birthday. Everything that was in the vault was removed and brought here. We were able to create wards that would survive our deaths and draw you to it. This room is probably what planted the time turner story in your mind."
"Is Malfoy Manor sentient?"
"As sentient as Hogwarts and just as old. We are in the oldest portion of the house. It is the original building that Sigurd built when he accepted the lands."
"If that was the easy part of my question, what was the hard part?"
"I liked you from the moment I set eyes on you. I even was prepared to overlook that you were a Gryffindor." He looked away, pink tinge on his cheeks. "But then you became friends with Potter and Weasley. I knew then that there was no chance for us. The Weasley's and Malfoy's have a long-standing feud that has lasted hundreds of years. You were theirs and I was jealous. At the time, I was just a kid and I didn't really understand what I was feeling. By the time I knew what I wanted, I thought it was too late. It was sixth year and I had a death sentence on my head. I couldn't bring you into that, not that you would have come. You hated me and it was my own fault."
"You died for me while running from the Manor. Why?"
"The contract."
"This keeps getting better and better." She mumbled.
"Why don't you start with the prophecy." He said gesturing to the orb sitting front and center.
**HGHG**
Lucius was sitting at his desk in his study, papers scattered like confetti. The sheer madness of filling out paperwork to declare one-self as alive was overwhelming. If that was the only thing to do, it would have been an easy day indeed. He had to declare three people as not dead. Therein lied the difficulty. Their bodies had been identified at the time of death and suddenly they were now alive again. The Gringotts Goblins refused to be duped. The hoops that they demanded he jump through were astronomical. He felt like pulling out his hair.
He looked up, disheveled as the panel to the secret entrance slid open. He smirked and leaned back in his chair as the dark menacing presence of Severus Snape appeared before his desk.
"Severus." He stood, circling the desk. They met in a fierce hug, a bromance that began in Hogwarts.
"I had to see it for myself. I felt it the moment Hermione crossed my wards a few days ago. The quake from her blood magic ritual of epic proportions gave me a bit of a shock but it wasn't until I felt the magical signature of three dead Malfoy's did I grow incredulous. I have to say, I admit that I was properly skeptical about your scheme. To be honest, I can't believe it worked. You only missed one essential point in your plan." Snape said.
"The bloody Dark Lord?"
Snape grinned. Then sobered, a serious look in his eye.
"Narcissa is alive. The Dark Lord has claimed her as his personal plaything. Her life has been absolute hell. I tried to pull her out of there but unless she cracks and gives him the memories that she is hiding, he will never let her go."
"Damnit! I can't do anything to help her. Between the magic that Hermione used and the contract, I am bound to her. I doubt that any marriage between Narcissa and I is still valid. Whatever protections she had magically by being my wife have all disappeared now that Hermione brought us back."
"You are definitely not married still. It was one of the ways that the Goblins verified your death. So, what does it mean, being bound to Granger? Is Draco still betrothed to her?"
"He wasn't technically betrothed to her. The entire Malfoy family swore fealty to her when she was still a child. You know the method that brought us back. You know what it means."
"Then you are not going to want to hear this."
"Just spit it out."
"Harry Potter is still alive."
Hermione pushed open the door and put a hand over her mouth in shock as Draco finally caught up with her in the hallway. She stared at Snape, her eyes wide with hope.
"It's impressive that you know exactly where my Father's study is, Granger." Draco laughingly murmured.
She turned to him, hand still clamped over her mouth.
"Miss. Granger, Draco, do come in." Snape growled. Hermione and Draco walked in the study.
"Professor Snape."
"I haven't been your Professor in years. Call me Severus."
"Okay, Sir." She said. His eyebrows rose as Lucius laughed. Lucius silently mouthed 'Sir' over Hermione's head. "Is Harry really alive? How about Ron? Is he alive too?" She asked her eyes shining brightly.
"I'm sorry Miss. Granger, Mr. Weasley died the day the three of you broke into Hogwarts. Potter should have died too but he didn't. Dumbledore's portrait insists that this is a wonderful thing but I am skeptical. Death most certainly would have been more kind. The Dark Lord is going to pass him around as a Death Eater's reward. He is to be gifted to Bellatrix tomorrow. It will be a public ceremony."
"I have to save him!" Hermione yelled, eyes wild.
"And how are you going to do that? Think girl! If you are to save him at all, you need to form an unassailable plan. Bide your time and make sure that whatever you attempt works. You will only get one try."
"I can't let him suffer like that while I sit here in comfort! I have to do something! The library, I need the library."
Lucius walked over to her and grabbed the tops of her arms and shook her a little.
"Listen closely, Hermione, if you die, you will take us with you. We are bound to you. We are only alive because you are alive. I will help you get him back, alive if possible. But we need you to be safe. You cannot run in and save the day. I know you are Gryffindor but I expect you to act like the Matriarch you are. The house of Malfoy must come first."
"Harry is my best friend."
"Abraxas and I will get him when it is time."
"What about me?" Draco asked, eyes blazing.
"Someone needs to carry on the line."
"You can count me in, Lucius. I am still Headmaster and that gives me a lot of information about the castle that the Dark Lord doesn't have. Dumbledore's portrait still firmly believes that Harry is the key to winning this."
"Crazy old bastard." Hermione mumbled drawing the shock of the entire room.
"Miss Granger, has your rose-tinted glasses fallen away?"
"Indubitably."
Lucius loosened his hands and ran them down her arms, drawing her in closer to his chest. Hermione took in a shocked breath and his smell wafted over her. The spicy scent that clung to his robes was something that she had been dreaming about ever since that day in Malfoy Manor. Being in his arms was just as thrilling as last time, making her feel protected. There was just something about being hugged close that washed all of her fears away. Maybe it was because she knew how lethal he could be.
"Are you alright, Poppet?" Lucius whispered in her ear. She shook her head and rested it on his shoulder.
**HGHG**
Later that night, Hermione paced the hallway in front of Lucius' door. She wanted comfort but felt awkward asking. She was berating herself for being weak, for having a sense of safety that Harry didn't have, for surviving when Ron didn't, Harry's capture, her fault. It was all her fault. Harry had wanted to save her and as a result he was in this mess.
The door opened quietly.
"Hermione?"
"Lucius." She whimpered, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Come here, Honey." He said gently pulling her into his room. He sat in his chair before the fire and pulled her into his lap.
He smoothed her hair, his fingers lightly playing with the springy curls as she tucked his head under his chin. He dropped kisses on her temple, her head, her cheeks, murmuring soft words to her as the tears spilled over, her breathing harsh.
"Shhh, Darling. Everything will be okay, you will see."
"It's my fault he is there. He was under the cloak, he could have left us. Why didn't he? We need him to kill you-know-who! I was expendable. Why?"
"I owe him my life then." Lucius calmly said.
"What?"
"Without you, I would have no life, the Malfoy line would have continued to be an extinct house. You are everything good and beautiful in this world. It is no wonder that he would want to keep you safe."
"Narcissa is alive. That is what Snape said. She is your wife. We need to save her too."
"Our vows were for life, true but they broke the moment I died. I am bound to you, now. You are everything to me. You are everything to us, Draco, Abraxas, and me."
She lifted her head and looked into his silvery eyes, the light of the fire danced in them, making him look dangerous. Her breath caught as his smell permeated everything, her head spun from his close proximity. Slowly he leaned in, watching her for permission or skittishness or whatever. She sat still, stiff as a board on his lap. His lips connected with the corner of her mouth, a soft sigh escaping her lips. A breathless moment that captivated her. How could his lips be so soft and molten at the same time? Hermione shivered at the contact. A bolt of heat shot through her core. She could feel him smile as he pulled away.
"Do you want to sleep here tonight?" He whispered.
A/N: As a child, my father often told me that possession is 9/10ths of the law and that may well be true in America, I have no idea if that is so in England. For the sake of this story, we are going to say, yes, England and America share this law. Lol.
Also, you will see the scene with Hermione in the Prophecy room, next chapter.
translations:
Elskede is Norwegian for Beloved. It was meant to be intimate. More will be revealed in time about that.
