In Love and War

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter series. All characters,events and places belong to J K Rowling. I make no profit whatsoever from the writing of this fanfiction.

In Love and War

Chapter 11

Lucius' eyes drank in the witch currently curled in his body, as close as she could get. He slowly ran his fingers through her thick curls that were the color of rich espresso with hints on blond and red woven through. The strands, that were now infused with his shampoo, called to him, urged him to delve into it's fiery depths.

As he raised his hand and watched the thick curls cascade down over his robes, he was struck with the thought that though they were different, they were still the same. Were Hermione's hair was the color of decadent chocolate and masses of curls, his was blond and straight. Were her skin had a beautiful softness, his was hard. But that's what it was. Different though it was, it was still hair, still skin, still a person and finally, the truth hit him. Blood was just blood.

Lucius had long ago realized that there were flaws in his prejudices, but the full truth had found him now, as she lay in his arms. This woman, this brave woman had been able to set aside the things that he had done and simply know him. She didn't shy away from his past because she had lived it, had seen the worst and best that he was capable of.

His hand brushed down her slender arm and inwardly cringed as his gaze took in the dark splotches of purple against her skin.

He had been in the library speaking with his son, again, when he felt the panic and fear course through the small brand at his wrist. It seemed that he could almost hear her screams pounding in his ear as the throbbing intensified. After a moment, it died completely. There was no feeling whatsoever coming from the mark. It was as if it was never there. At that moment, he had felt a strange numbness settling throughout his body and knew that he had to leave.

When he had gained entry into her home, he was ready to commit murder.

The sight of her lying on the tile would haunt him for eternity.

The dark curls that he had come to delight in were spread around her pale face like a halo belonging to an angel. This angel had fallen though. She had looked so broken. His keen senses had picked up the scent of sex and rage as soon as he knelt next to her. There had been dried tear tracks on her usually glowing skin and as he took in the state of her clothing, he had known what had transpired at the Weasley home.

Wrath and fury had been an emotion that he was familiar with, but Lucius had never felt it in such intensity as he had at that moment. He didn't even think, he just took her, had picked her up in his arms and brought her to his home, the only place that he knew for certain that she would be safe.

He had thought that he would cool down as the healer tended to her, but his family doctor had only made him angrier. Even though he knew that Hermione needed Edwards' attention, he wanted to maim the man for hurting her further. With every bruise the man touched, Lucius imagined using his fists. At every scratch and mark, he decided potions slipped in a drink, but none of it had been as bad as the internal exam. When the healer's hands were touching Hermione's most intimate place, Lucius' hand had gripped his wand so hard that the snake handled weapon had almost broken from the pressure.

“Lucius?” She called softly, shaking him out of his dark thoughts.

“Yes?” He asked, bringing his palm to her cheek, smoothing the hair out of her eyes.

“Please don't leave me.” Hermione requested and he realized that she was still asleep as her words were somewhat mumbled and were barely whispered. .

“Never,” he promised quietly to the room and the sleeping woman beside him.

He didn't know what it was about her that drew him in so completely. Lucius supposed it was her nature, so opposite of his own, so different from what he had always known. She was so gentle. Her voice was soft spoken and it caused his protectiveness to appear whenever she was near. That wasn't all though, he decided. There was so much more. It was the way she moved with such easy grace, the courage she had shown throughout her life and still had to show as she lived day to day. There were so many small things that made up who she was, but to him the most important was the changes that came along with her.

Around Hermione, Lucius felt like a better man. She was a breath of fresh air clearing out the stale mustiness that had been his life for so long. He craved her nearness, the familiarity of her presence.

He had sworn to himself as Healer Edwards had left that he would make sure that she was never in that position again. He hadn't saved her all those years ago to let her go now. The first thing on his list was Ronald Weasley.

Despite his past, Lucius still had several contacts in place who were only too eager to stay in his good graces. A couple of galleons tossed in the right direction and Weasley would be a thing of the past.

He would start small, he decided. First would be Weasley's reputation. A few well deserved lies passed to the right people would be a good foundation. After that would come the loss of his job and with it, his fame. The last thing to destroy would be the boy's relationships. Lucius vowed that Weasley would feel every biting word, every pain that he had dealt his wife.

With thoughts of revenge in his mind and a devious smile on his aristocratic face, he slid down further into the bed, taking great care to not jostle the witch at his side.

Malfoy's didn't take kindly to insults and Lucius had every intention of making Hermione a Malfoy before the year was out. Together, they would conquer the wizarding world would realize that the Malfoy's were unstoppable.

~@~

“You have got to be kidding me!” Lucius heard Draco shout, followed by a soft twinkling of laughter from the woman who had slept in his arms the night before.

“I kid you not, Draco dear. She screamed bloody murder when he dropped down on one knee.” Hermione said, and Lucius could hear his son's gasp as he waited outside of the door to the library.

“What did she say?” Draco prodded.

“What do you think she said?”

“Well, if she was smart she would have said no.”

“Pansy has been in love with Oliver Wood for years, of course she said yes.” She giggled. The sound filling his heart. “It was actually very romantic, aside from the whole spilling the champagne all over Pansy's gown.”

Lucius timidly knocked on the door before opening it slightly and walking in.

The picture before his was magazine quality domesticity. Hermione sat on an overstuffed chaise, her body wrapped in a pink silk robe that he could only imagine one of the elves brought for her. She held a delicate china cup and saucer in her hand and was taking slow sips of the heated drink. Her face was still a bit pale, but held a peach tint to it that looked very becoming on her. He smiled as her features lit up in a brilliant smile at the sight of him.

Having woken up to find the bed alone, he didn't bother going into his suite to adorn himself in clean clothes, only summoned a black terry robe and chucked his garments from the day before down the laundry chute in the Blue room. He had raced out of the room, worrying that she had left the grounds and went back to her house.

“Good morning, Lucius.” Hermione said, a slight blush covering her cheeks. “Would you like a cup of tea,” she asked, gesturing to the tray beside her, “or coffee?”

“Coffee would be delightful.” He agreed and turned to his son. “Good morning, Draco.”

His son gave him a brazen wink before he greeted his father properly.

Lucius turned away from the painting to observe the woman carefully handing him his morning coffee.

She looked well rested and carried with her a lightness that hadn't been in place the last time she had been here.

“I trust you slept well?” he inquired.

“Yes, very well.” Hermione replied, her eyes downcast. “Thank you.”

“It was of no bother. I was happy to be there.” He stammered, his body recalling the feel of her body pressed against his own. At one point in the night the woman and rolled over, her lush curves tormenting him as they pressed against his rigid body. It had been heaven. “I assume you haven't had breakfast?”

“No, not yet. I wanted to wait until you came down.” She smiled sweetly at him.

Lucius could hear Draco snigger's from his portrait and shot him a quick glare, shutting him up almost automatically.

He held his arm out to the witch and instantly felt the pressure in his chest relieve as she leaned into his body, her teacup clasped gently in her hand.

As they sat down, he handed her the potions that she needed to take. He waited until she had drunk down each one to his satisfaction before he called for their breakfast.

“Thank you,” she said again shyly.

Not wanting to embarrass her further, he called for their morning meal.

He watched a range of emotions play across her face as she watched the elves bring in the platters of food.

Draco hadn't failed to tell him about the girls funny obsession with house elves. He supposed that growing up the way she did, with muggles, that it would be difficult to understand the way things worked in their world.

He had read about the American Civil war and could definitely see where she had drawn conclusions. The truth was that the elves enjoyed their servitude. It was simply as much in their nature to serve as it was in her nature to learn. With the exception of Dobby, most house elves were happy and usually ecstatic with their lot in life. In his opinion, Dobby was a little off, but he wouldn't deny that he could have been kinder to the elf. Despite how he felt towards his former elf, in the end, he was proud to know that the elf had died defending others.

Pulling his eyes from her face, he tucked into his eggs.

“Have you given any thought to what you will do now?” Lucius asked, keeping his tone light, not wanting to push her to far.

“Honestly?” she asked. “I have no idea. I'm still trying to get past the thought.”

“It will take time.” He said, placing his palm over hers, stroking his thumb along the tattoo covered flesh. He felt a shiver go through her at the contact.

“Do you feel that way as well?” She stammered, her face flushing with embarrassment. “When you touch my mark, I can't explain it. Is it the same for you?”

“Yes, I suppose. I have felt many things pass between us through our bond.” Lucius admitted simply, not wanting to let her know that he felt her fear the previous night.

Changing the subject, he quickly asked her about going back to work. It was a topic that they had touched on the last time she had visited.

“I did get in contact with Gringotts,” She said, pushing around the potatoes on her plate as her brow furrowed. “They are making cut backs in the department and weren't able to offer me anything.”

“I suppose it was for the best.” Hermione said and Lucius could tell that she seemed lost in thought. “I was thinking the other day about working for the Ministry, but I doubt they would have me seeing as how they believe me to be disloyal.”

“Why not go into business for yourself?” He asked.

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “It would be so much work and with Rose,” she trailed off, “I don't think I would have the time to do it, especially now.”

“She is at Hogwarts, is she not?”

“Well, yes, but what would I do during her summer and winter breaks? I would be chained to an office and unable to care for her.”

“Take her with you.” Lucius suggested as he took a sip of freshly squeezed juice.

“I could.” She agreed and he could practically see the cogs spinning in her mind.

“You would already have a built in client base.” He smirked.

“Would I now?” Hermione asked and he chuckled.

“Yes.”

“And, may I ask, who would readily agree to become one of my clients?”

She propped her elbow up on the table and rested her chin in her palm. Lucius couldn't contain the small smile that broke through his lips at her innocent habit although her eyes told a different story. The deep cinnamon of her eyes smoldered, but with what, he couldn't tell.

“Well, there is myself.” He offered, waving his hand majestically down his side.

Hermione grinned at his movement and he felt his breath catch as their situation this morning pressed in upon him.

It had been far too long since he had enjoyed a familial atmosphere. Meals with Narcissa were always laced with strict formality. They didn't speak to each other the way many other couples had. Not even an occasional please pass the salt was muttered during the cold meals. Draco hadn't joined them at the table until he was fourteen and even then, it was the same.

But this, eating with her and laughing, it just felt right.

“As much as I would appreciate your patronage of my tiny firm that doesn't exist,” she mentioned, “I don't think that you being my only client will keep me afloat.”

“You wouldn't have to worry about that. Several of my acquaintances need someone trustworthy and that's hard to come by at this time.”

Her eyes narrowed when he finished talking.

“Trustworthy?” Hermione asked, her face pinched slightly. “I won't do anything illegal Lucius.” She chided.

“Not illegal, darling.” He smirked at her conclusion. “There is some slight prejudice when it comes to Purebloods.”

“I have noticed, although I happen to think it's wrong.”

“It comes along with war. One side wins and the other loses.” Lucius admitted. “Unfortunately, some of the Pureblood families who held no allegiance during the war are being discriminated against. There is also the matter of the families of previous Death Eaters. They are being punished for other's deeds. It's unjust.”

“I didn't fight for that.” she remarked and he noticed her chest start to rise. “I fought for equality, so that other's wouldn't be treated the way that I had been, based on my birth.”

“I agree, but we are off topic.” He said, not wanting to rile the witch up further. She had enough on her plate as it was. “Besides, you need to establish what you plan to do with your life before you can entertain thoughts on anything else.”

“You're right.” She sighed deeply as she stared into her tea cup. “What would you do?” she asked innocently, not realizing that he was the last person she should be asking advice from.

Being truthful, he simply told her what he would do in her position. “First of all, divorce can easily be granted due to adultery. Secondly, if I was you, I would get a damn good lawyer to ensure that your daughter's needs will be provided for by her father.”

He didn't bother mentioning that her daughter's needs would be taken care of by him. Eleven years was a long time for missing his son. With Hermione, she came as a ready made family with the possibility of more children.

“Thirdly,” Lucius continued, “If it was me, I never would have married someone so inferior to me for any reason.”

She huffed for a moment before speaking. “I married him because he deserved it. After what I did...”

He cut her off, not wanting to her that line again. “I will not repeat myself, Hermione. What you did was not wrong. We saved many lives that night and I refuse to see you punish yourself for it any longer.”

“I know.” Her words were soft as she looked at him, capturing his gaze in her own. “If you believed something for so long, wouldn't you have a hard time letting go and believing something else, something that you know is right but just seems so foreign to you?”

Lucius swallowed thickly hoping to dislodge the knot in his throat.

“I guess not.” She said, turning back to her plate.

He pushed his chair back and went to the window. He surveyed as he tried to put his thoughts in order. Since the woman had come back into his life, he had seemed to lose grip on his tight control.

“I apologize Lucius, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He heard her chair push back and her feet bringing her to stand behind him.

He relaxed slightly as her hands rested on her shoulders. Without giving her a chance to pull back, he placed an arm around her shoulders, anchoring her to his side, where he was beginning to realize was where she belonged.

“I'm sorry.” She said gently as she tucked further into his embrace, her feminine scent of peaches and vanilla wafting up to his nose.

“Don't apologize.” He said sharply, before softening his tone and answering her question. “I felt that way, until I met you and since then, everything has changed.”

Without waiting for her to respond he turned her in his arms and pressed his kiss to her lips.