Daughter of Leda
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
23
Views:
18,667
Reviews:
99
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
23
Views:
18,667
Reviews:
99
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Battle Draws Near
“Now wait one minute, Missy,” said Moody when a stupid grin had found its way to my face. “This isn’t a fairy tale. It’s not an all powerful thing that will rid the world of evil. Every object that strengthens magic has its limitations. You don’t know anything about the purpose for which it was made, nor do you know how strong certain spells would be through using it. For now, it could very well cause more harm than anything to count on. Constant vigilance means more than just watching those around you for betrayal. It also means watching yourself for foolish decisions or assumptions.”
Hermione started to deny having let her imagination run away with her, but couldn’t. Not convincingly anyway. It was yet another topic on a growing list to research, a list so long she was beginning to have mixed feelings about it. “Point taken,” she said, almost meekly. There were only a handful of people that could still make Hermione feel like a little child, and Alastor Moody was one of them.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Lucius Malfoy was visibly nervous. He could keep his doubts hidden from even the Dark Lord if he put effort into it, and yet the prospect of joining the Order was enough to throw him off entirely. He caught Severus smirking slightly out of the corner of his eye and for a split second wondered why he’d been stupid enough to think this a good idea.
A figure stepped into the light of the dimly lit room Severus had arranged for the meeting, a setting altogether too cliché in Lucius’ mind. It’s dark hand rose to pull down the hood of the figure’s cloak, revealing Kingsley Shacklebolt, and another, more delicate hand revealed the form of Nymphadora Tonks. She grinned, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “Wotcher, Malfoy. Or should I call you ‘uncle’?”
“Miss Nymphadora,” Lucius said politely, nodding his head in greeting. He hadn’t known her during her youth as they no longer spoke to Andromeda, but he still liked to keep tabs on his family members.
“Tonks,” she corrected him quickly, grinning as her hair went through various shades of red and blue until she finally settled on a dark shade of purple.
“Certainly, Tonks,” Lucius said, correcting himself. “Now... What must I do to prove myself?”
He wasn’t exactly used to getting laughed at, but by the end of the meeting he was learning that laughter was a part of being on the “good” side. At his question Tonks and Shacklebolt had both laughed, and Severus had smirked. “We aren’t like Voldemort,” said Shacklebolt, “we don’t ask you to take a mark or bind yourself by magic. It’s simple, we trust you as much as you prove to us you can be trusted. Anything you learn, pass on to Severus, and he will send it on to the rest of the Order. As we trust you more, we will give you more information on various ways of contacting us, and you will be more informed of Order happenings.”
They had spoken somewhat more before leaving, exchanging prior knowledge. Lucius was able to fill in a few gaps on events where either Severus had not been present or had simply not thought about mentioning. By the end of it Lucius not only was getting used to laughter, he was also feeling more at ease and less like a traitor. Though he’d been confident in his decision, a part of him had worried that it made him as much of a blood traitor as he had always cruelly called people like Andromeda and the Weasleys. He didn’t feel that way at all now. If anything, he was coming even closer to feeling that mysterious thing called peace.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Weeks passed and again they didn’t see each other. Hermione wanted to see him, but was still torn over the existence of his wife. Lucius missed her, but wasn’t sure whether or not to tell her he had switched sides, not wanting her to worry more, and knew that if he saw her it would inevitably come out.
Late one night Hermione found herself tossing and turning in her bed, unable to sleep peacefully. She kept dreaming of Lucius, surrounded by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It was like a replay of the same scene, over and over, with the details changing slightly each time.
At first she saw Lucius bowing before Voldemort, his face cool and collected. Voldemort spoke, though she could not quite catch the words, and Lucius bowed his head lower before getting up and leaving. She saw a battlefield covered in Death Eaters and Order members, all fighting a battle that seemed to have no winner, only losers.
That part seemed true enough. Though much was at stake in the war against Voldemort, the death toll and the suffering of those who might yet survive was such that it didn’t seem that anyone would really come out of it ahead. If anything, one side might manage to come out just less injured, but not really ahead.
She saw herself amongst them, casting spells as quickly as she could, not seeing the figure of a tall Death Eater with flowing blonde hair sneaking up behind her. Not seeing that figure aim his wand at her, or the thick jet of brilliant green light that was coming her way.
In a normal nightmare, this would be the point where she woke abruptly and found herself covered in sweat, breathing heavy and reaching for her wand. But this was not a normal nightmare, and she was trapped by the images before her.
Each time Lucius’ behavior changed slightly, though the end result remained the same. Until the last, when as Lucius crept up silently behind her and raised his wand arm to aim at her, his body froze and fell in its place. She was safe, and he was... she didn’t know.
After that the images were cut off, and she seemed to float in a mist that reminded her of the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. She heard a voice, a strong but melodical feminine voice that she couldn’t help but identify with Leda.
“Now you see, dear Hermione. How could I let my line end so tragically when it was within my power to stop it? And at the hand of a family I care about so much? I am far too selfish for that. Remember, my daughter, that the Malfoys have hearts of gold, if you can break through the ice."
At this point she did wake from her slumber, bolting upright and looking around as though she half expected Leda to be there with her. She hoped that in spirit, at least, Leda was. She didn’t know how that inevitable battle would end, and so she wouldn’t yet know the meaning of Leda’s words, but now at least she was certain of when the all important final battle would be. Scrambling to her feet, she ran out the door in search of someone to tell of her dream. In the back of her mind she wondered if anyone but her would trust in her dream, but she knew that all she could do was try.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
A/N: We are coming closer and closer to the end of this story. There are only two, maybe three, more chapters left to the conclusion, and one of those is already written. Thanks so much to everyone who has been leaving me such encouragement in the nearly four months I’ve been devoting to the story. I love y'all! : )
Hermione started to deny having let her imagination run away with her, but couldn’t. Not convincingly anyway. It was yet another topic on a growing list to research, a list so long she was beginning to have mixed feelings about it. “Point taken,” she said, almost meekly. There were only a handful of people that could still make Hermione feel like a little child, and Alastor Moody was one of them.
Lucius Malfoy was visibly nervous. He could keep his doubts hidden from even the Dark Lord if he put effort into it, and yet the prospect of joining the Order was enough to throw him off entirely. He caught Severus smirking slightly out of the corner of his eye and for a split second wondered why he’d been stupid enough to think this a good idea.
A figure stepped into the light of the dimly lit room Severus had arranged for the meeting, a setting altogether too cliché in Lucius’ mind. It’s dark hand rose to pull down the hood of the figure’s cloak, revealing Kingsley Shacklebolt, and another, more delicate hand revealed the form of Nymphadora Tonks. She grinned, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “Wotcher, Malfoy. Or should I call you ‘uncle’?”
“Miss Nymphadora,” Lucius said politely, nodding his head in greeting. He hadn’t known her during her youth as they no longer spoke to Andromeda, but he still liked to keep tabs on his family members.
“Tonks,” she corrected him quickly, grinning as her hair went through various shades of red and blue until she finally settled on a dark shade of purple.
“Certainly, Tonks,” Lucius said, correcting himself. “Now... What must I do to prove myself?”
He wasn’t exactly used to getting laughed at, but by the end of the meeting he was learning that laughter was a part of being on the “good” side. At his question Tonks and Shacklebolt had both laughed, and Severus had smirked. “We aren’t like Voldemort,” said Shacklebolt, “we don’t ask you to take a mark or bind yourself by magic. It’s simple, we trust you as much as you prove to us you can be trusted. Anything you learn, pass on to Severus, and he will send it on to the rest of the Order. As we trust you more, we will give you more information on various ways of contacting us, and you will be more informed of Order happenings.”
They had spoken somewhat more before leaving, exchanging prior knowledge. Lucius was able to fill in a few gaps on events where either Severus had not been present or had simply not thought about mentioning. By the end of it Lucius not only was getting used to laughter, he was also feeling more at ease and less like a traitor. Though he’d been confident in his decision, a part of him had worried that it made him as much of a blood traitor as he had always cruelly called people like Andromeda and the Weasleys. He didn’t feel that way at all now. If anything, he was coming even closer to feeling that mysterious thing called peace.
Weeks passed and again they didn’t see each other. Hermione wanted to see him, but was still torn over the existence of his wife. Lucius missed her, but wasn’t sure whether or not to tell her he had switched sides, not wanting her to worry more, and knew that if he saw her it would inevitably come out.
Late one night Hermione found herself tossing and turning in her bed, unable to sleep peacefully. She kept dreaming of Lucius, surrounded by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It was like a replay of the same scene, over and over, with the details changing slightly each time.
At first she saw Lucius bowing before Voldemort, his face cool and collected. Voldemort spoke, though she could not quite catch the words, and Lucius bowed his head lower before getting up and leaving. She saw a battlefield covered in Death Eaters and Order members, all fighting a battle that seemed to have no winner, only losers.
That part seemed true enough. Though much was at stake in the war against Voldemort, the death toll and the suffering of those who might yet survive was such that it didn’t seem that anyone would really come out of it ahead. If anything, one side might manage to come out just less injured, but not really ahead.
She saw herself amongst them, casting spells as quickly as she could, not seeing the figure of a tall Death Eater with flowing blonde hair sneaking up behind her. Not seeing that figure aim his wand at her, or the thick jet of brilliant green light that was coming her way.
In a normal nightmare, this would be the point where she woke abruptly and found herself covered in sweat, breathing heavy and reaching for her wand. But this was not a normal nightmare, and she was trapped by the images before her.
Each time Lucius’ behavior changed slightly, though the end result remained the same. Until the last, when as Lucius crept up silently behind her and raised his wand arm to aim at her, his body froze and fell in its place. She was safe, and he was... she didn’t know.
After that the images were cut off, and she seemed to float in a mist that reminded her of the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. She heard a voice, a strong but melodical feminine voice that she couldn’t help but identify with Leda.
“Now you see, dear Hermione. How could I let my line end so tragically when it was within my power to stop it? And at the hand of a family I care about so much? I am far too selfish for that. Remember, my daughter, that the Malfoys have hearts of gold, if you can break through the ice."
At this point she did wake from her slumber, bolting upright and looking around as though she half expected Leda to be there with her. She hoped that in spirit, at least, Leda was. She didn’t know how that inevitable battle would end, and so she wouldn’t yet know the meaning of Leda’s words, but now at least she was certain of when the all important final battle would be. Scrambling to her feet, she ran out the door in search of someone to tell of her dream. In the back of her mind she wondered if anyone but her would trust in her dream, but she knew that all she could do was try.
A/N: We are coming closer and closer to the end of this story. There are only two, maybe three, more chapters left to the conclusion, and one of those is already written. Thanks so much to everyone who has been leaving me such encouragement in the nearly four months I’ve been devoting to the story. I love y'all! : )