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In Love and War
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
6,962
Reviews:
41
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
6,962
Reviews:
41
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own anything in Harry Potter and make no profit from this fanfiction.
Chapter 4
Just a quick note, if any of you are reading this on GE it is no longer up. Updates for this story will only be on this site and FF.net, although updates on FF are not as polished as on here. Also, do any of you think I should complete the story? I was told by a beta to just give it up, that it was crap. It really shook me because I thought I was doing a good job. Reviews and advice will definitely be welcomed. :) Thanks!!!
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter. It's characters and places all belong to JK Rowling. I make no profit whatsoever from the writing of this fanfiction.
000000000000000000000000000
Chapter 4
The ball room was ablaze in soft candlelight, the floor to ceiling French doors were open, allowing the sweet scent of jasmine to blow in. Soft, but haunting music seemed to permeate through the air. She tried to find the source of it, but it was elusive.
Dancers whirled around the ball room effortlessly with their partners. Each woman was dressed in an ostentatious ball gown and an odd mask. Some were harlequin, others full faced. They were vibrant with color and caused her eyes to blur as she watched them.
Everyone seemed to be laughing, except for her. She tried to make her way to the open doors, but every time she pushed forward an inch closer it seemed she was forced back a foot. The green gown she wore, along with the diamond and emerald tiara perched in her curls, seemed to weigh her down. She felt the crush of people on all sides and held her hand up to her head to steady herself.
“Hello?” she called out, hoping to see a familiar face. Her voice seemed loud in her ears, but she knew it faded into the music as soon as the words slipped off her tongue.
The people around her just seemed to laugh even harder and ignored that she had said anything. She was sure that she saw Harry and Ron in the crowd, but every time she tried to distinguish them from the other guests they hid behind their masks and blended in. She had taken to grabbing onto elbows and shoulders to try to identify the masked dancers. They all had a smirk on their face when she tried to actually look at them.
“Harry!” She cried out, hoping he would answer her.
She felt a slight tug at her elbow and turned around to gaze at the person who actually tried to make contact with her.
He was tall with wide shoulders. His body was draped in expensive blue robes that were tailored perfectly to his form. He wore a deep blue eye mask that covered parts of his face. It didn't hide him well enough because she could still see the strong aristocratic lines of his face. Behind the slip mask there were eyes of steel. They were cold, but seemed to hold a secret. His full lips were turned up at one corner solidifying my belief that this man knew her.
His arms slipped around her slight body, pulling her flush against his rich robes. She could feel the strong muscles of his shoulders beneath her fingertips and his hand was warm as it held her cold one in the dance. With every turn, his sculpted thighs would brush against hers causing her skin to heat up and flush under his heated gaze.
There was something familiar about the man. He held himself straight and looked at those around them in disdain.
“Who are you?” She asked, already knowing who it was.
He leaned down and his lips brushed against her ear, his warm breath causing shivers to shot deliciously down her spine.
“You need to wake up.” His voice was deep and seductive.
“Why?” She asked. She wasn't sure why she was here, but in his arms she felt a sense of safety.
“Why? What? Where? These are questions asked by man every day.” His hot tongue licked along the shell of her sensitive ear, causing her to lean into his embrace and cling onto him. “You know the answers pet. You have to wake up to set things straight.”
She allowed herself to lean into his chest and breathe in his crisp scent of linen and cotton, with a slight touch of spice. His fingers delved into her carefully arranged dark curls and wrapped around her slender neck. She brushed her nose along his forearm. Her eyes opened as she took in the small, black otter tattoo embedded on his wrist.
“Lucius...” she called as the room started to spin. He didn't reply, only brought her arm up to his mouth. His tongue danced across the small snake tattoo that slithered across her skin. When his mouth pulled away she was left gasping for breath and the black serpent on her wrist started writhing and contorting it's body in pain.
The room was starting to fall apart around me. The floor started to shake and the marble floors began to crumble around the edges. The mirrors crashed from the walls and landed with a resounding shatter that caused my ears to ring. The music changed from the low melody to a loud clanging of discorded keys. The people around her continued to dance as though nothing was going on, if anything their laughter intensified building to a screeching crescendo. The candles started to melt into themselves as the room was plunged into darkness, leaving her to stumble around blindly.
“Lucius.” She screamed and tried to reach for him, only to grasp air.
0000000000000000000000000000000
“Lucius!” His name tore through her lips as she awoke to her surroundings. A thin white curtain circled the metal framed bed that she was currently resting on. A small wooden nightstand was next to her with a myriad of potions arranged atop of it. Taking in the tall vaulted ceilings and meticulously clean stone floors, she knew without a doubt that she was in the hospital wing of Hogwarts.
“Oh dear! You're finally awake.” Poppy Pomfrey made her way over and started running her hands and wand over her small frame, diagnosing her body for signs of lingering injury. “You are lucky to be alive little miss. It has been so touch and go with you. We have all been so worried that you wouldn't wake up.”
“What?” She asked while trying to remember what had been happening. Madame Pomfrey was talking to fast for her to process everything.
The last thing she remembered was dueling with Bellatrix and then Lucius Malfoy's blond hair falling around her face, his silken locks caressing her cheek. After that it was just dark. There were no images for her to see, no feeling. Only the slight scent of linen and cotton wafting around her.
“Madame Pomfrey, what has happened? Where are Harry and Ron?” She questioned the healer, ashamed that they were not her first concern. For years, all of her worry had been for them.
Before the portly woman in the black and white robes could answer her a sea of red burst into the room and surrounded her. She was pulled into a tight hug by the Weasley matriarch and nearly bathed in a sea of tears that the woman was shedding.
“We were so worried about you. You have been out for almost a week. We thought we were going to lose you.” The red headed woman cried out in broken sentences as she strangled her to death.
Seconds later she was passed between a gulf of red hair and freckled arms. She was gasping for air by the time they all moved away from the bed. She rearranged the blankets closer to her body. The smothering hugs had loosened the bed covers more than she would have liked,
“Where is Ron and Harry?” She demanded with a red face, tired of waiting for answers.
Madame Pomfrey rushed over to the bed just as Arthur Weasley opened his mouth.
“Thats enough for today. She needs her rest.” She eyed them all with a hard glare, daring them to defy her.
The Weasley family whispered their goodbyes as the nurse closed the curtains around her bed.
“Please Madame Pomfrey!” She implored. “Tell me what has happened.”
The old nurse smiled kindly at her, but dismissed her request. “Get some rest child. Everything will be explained when you are feeling better.”
She started to argue, but knew it would be a mote point. She drank the potions that the nurse offered and leaned back into the pillows and attempted to stay awake as the medicine was pushing her closer to the land of dreams. The clean scent of linen drifting into her nose once again.
“Madame Pomfrey? Where is Lucius Malfoy?” She asked while she was still able to comprehend her thoughts. “I remember him being near me before I passed out. Is he alive?”
“Don't you worry about him dear. He won't be able to hurt you now or ever again.” The nurse said as she patted her head, smoothed down her hair and tucked the covers in tighter around her body, almost as if she was ensuring that she wouldn't escape.
Hermione's fingers subconsciously went to the small mark that graced her arm and felt a rush of panic wash over her. It was thumping, hard and furiously. He was in danger or in pain. She didn't know enough about bindings, but she knew that she was feeling his emotions, his pain, his loss. She didn't know if this was normal, but the potions were kicking in and she could think no longer. She feel into a deep sleep, lost to dreams of twirling dancers with laughter etched on their faces.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter. It's characters and places all belong to JK Rowling. I make no profit whatsoever from the writing of this fanfiction.
000000000000000000000000000
Chapter 4
The ball room was ablaze in soft candlelight, the floor to ceiling French doors were open, allowing the sweet scent of jasmine to blow in. Soft, but haunting music seemed to permeate through the air. She tried to find the source of it, but it was elusive.
Dancers whirled around the ball room effortlessly with their partners. Each woman was dressed in an ostentatious ball gown and an odd mask. Some were harlequin, others full faced. They were vibrant with color and caused her eyes to blur as she watched them.
Everyone seemed to be laughing, except for her. She tried to make her way to the open doors, but every time she pushed forward an inch closer it seemed she was forced back a foot. The green gown she wore, along with the diamond and emerald tiara perched in her curls, seemed to weigh her down. She felt the crush of people on all sides and held her hand up to her head to steady herself.
“Hello?” she called out, hoping to see a familiar face. Her voice seemed loud in her ears, but she knew it faded into the music as soon as the words slipped off her tongue.
The people around her just seemed to laugh even harder and ignored that she had said anything. She was sure that she saw Harry and Ron in the crowd, but every time she tried to distinguish them from the other guests they hid behind their masks and blended in. She had taken to grabbing onto elbows and shoulders to try to identify the masked dancers. They all had a smirk on their face when she tried to actually look at them.
“Harry!” She cried out, hoping he would answer her.
She felt a slight tug at her elbow and turned around to gaze at the person who actually tried to make contact with her.
He was tall with wide shoulders. His body was draped in expensive blue robes that were tailored perfectly to his form. He wore a deep blue eye mask that covered parts of his face. It didn't hide him well enough because she could still see the strong aristocratic lines of his face. Behind the slip mask there were eyes of steel. They were cold, but seemed to hold a secret. His full lips were turned up at one corner solidifying my belief that this man knew her.
His arms slipped around her slight body, pulling her flush against his rich robes. She could feel the strong muscles of his shoulders beneath her fingertips and his hand was warm as it held her cold one in the dance. With every turn, his sculpted thighs would brush against hers causing her skin to heat up and flush under his heated gaze.
There was something familiar about the man. He held himself straight and looked at those around them in disdain.
“Who are you?” She asked, already knowing who it was.
He leaned down and his lips brushed against her ear, his warm breath causing shivers to shot deliciously down her spine.
“You need to wake up.” His voice was deep and seductive.
“Why?” She asked. She wasn't sure why she was here, but in his arms she felt a sense of safety.
“Why? What? Where? These are questions asked by man every day.” His hot tongue licked along the shell of her sensitive ear, causing her to lean into his embrace and cling onto him. “You know the answers pet. You have to wake up to set things straight.”
She allowed herself to lean into his chest and breathe in his crisp scent of linen and cotton, with a slight touch of spice. His fingers delved into her carefully arranged dark curls and wrapped around her slender neck. She brushed her nose along his forearm. Her eyes opened as she took in the small, black otter tattoo embedded on his wrist.
“Lucius...” she called as the room started to spin. He didn't reply, only brought her arm up to his mouth. His tongue danced across the small snake tattoo that slithered across her skin. When his mouth pulled away she was left gasping for breath and the black serpent on her wrist started writhing and contorting it's body in pain.
The room was starting to fall apart around me. The floor started to shake and the marble floors began to crumble around the edges. The mirrors crashed from the walls and landed with a resounding shatter that caused my ears to ring. The music changed from the low melody to a loud clanging of discorded keys. The people around her continued to dance as though nothing was going on, if anything their laughter intensified building to a screeching crescendo. The candles started to melt into themselves as the room was plunged into darkness, leaving her to stumble around blindly.
“Lucius.” She screamed and tried to reach for him, only to grasp air.
0000000000000000000000000000000
“Lucius!” His name tore through her lips as she awoke to her surroundings. A thin white curtain circled the metal framed bed that she was currently resting on. A small wooden nightstand was next to her with a myriad of potions arranged atop of it. Taking in the tall vaulted ceilings and meticulously clean stone floors, she knew without a doubt that she was in the hospital wing of Hogwarts.
“Oh dear! You're finally awake.” Poppy Pomfrey made her way over and started running her hands and wand over her small frame, diagnosing her body for signs of lingering injury. “You are lucky to be alive little miss. It has been so touch and go with you. We have all been so worried that you wouldn't wake up.”
“What?” She asked while trying to remember what had been happening. Madame Pomfrey was talking to fast for her to process everything.
The last thing she remembered was dueling with Bellatrix and then Lucius Malfoy's blond hair falling around her face, his silken locks caressing her cheek. After that it was just dark. There were no images for her to see, no feeling. Only the slight scent of linen and cotton wafting around her.
“Madame Pomfrey, what has happened? Where are Harry and Ron?” She questioned the healer, ashamed that they were not her first concern. For years, all of her worry had been for them.
Before the portly woman in the black and white robes could answer her a sea of red burst into the room and surrounded her. She was pulled into a tight hug by the Weasley matriarch and nearly bathed in a sea of tears that the woman was shedding.
“We were so worried about you. You have been out for almost a week. We thought we were going to lose you.” The red headed woman cried out in broken sentences as she strangled her to death.
Seconds later she was passed between a gulf of red hair and freckled arms. She was gasping for air by the time they all moved away from the bed. She rearranged the blankets closer to her body. The smothering hugs had loosened the bed covers more than she would have liked,
“Where is Ron and Harry?” She demanded with a red face, tired of waiting for answers.
Madame Pomfrey rushed over to the bed just as Arthur Weasley opened his mouth.
“Thats enough for today. She needs her rest.” She eyed them all with a hard glare, daring them to defy her.
The Weasley family whispered their goodbyes as the nurse closed the curtains around her bed.
“Please Madame Pomfrey!” She implored. “Tell me what has happened.”
The old nurse smiled kindly at her, but dismissed her request. “Get some rest child. Everything will be explained when you are feeling better.”
She started to argue, but knew it would be a mote point. She drank the potions that the nurse offered and leaned back into the pillows and attempted to stay awake as the medicine was pushing her closer to the land of dreams. The clean scent of linen drifting into her nose once again.
“Madame Pomfrey? Where is Lucius Malfoy?” She asked while she was still able to comprehend her thoughts. “I remember him being near me before I passed out. Is he alive?”
“Don't you worry about him dear. He won't be able to hurt you now or ever again.” The nurse said as she patted her head, smoothed down her hair and tucked the covers in tighter around her body, almost as if she was ensuring that she wouldn't escape.
Hermione's fingers subconsciously went to the small mark that graced her arm and felt a rush of panic wash over her. It was thumping, hard and furiously. He was in danger or in pain. She didn't know enough about bindings, but she knew that she was feeling his emotions, his pain, his loss. She didn't know if this was normal, but the potions were kicking in and she could think no longer. She feel into a deep sleep, lost to dreams of twirling dancers with laughter etched on their faces.