The Beauty Found Within the Beast

Sorry for the bit of delay on getting this posted. My muse ended up throwing me a small curveball into the plot so I had to come to terms with it. Enjoy... and Please... tell me what you think! I wanna know! really, I do!!!!

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Voices in the Dark

Lucius watched the array of emotions play across Hermione’s face. A flush rose on her cheeks. Her pink tongue darted across her lips to moisten them and she opened her mouth several times to say something, but closed it again, as if the thoughts were unwilling to find voice.

He smiled, “Does the cat have your tongue? I was under the impression that you are never at a loss for words.”

Hermione couldn’t help but smile. She shook her head. “ I can imagine who gave you such information.”

Lucius nodded, “Severus often talks of your Know-it-all status. But he seems to admire that about you, despite his insistence to the contrary.”

Hermione nodded with a smile. “He is not the same man he had once been when I was at school.”

When she looked away from him, he noticed the blush rise again in her cheeks. He found himself wondering if there was some form of romance between the two. A slight irritation at the idea formed a lump in his throat and he marveled at why he would care.

Brushing the thought aside, he changed the subject. “This is my private library. It houses some of the oldest books in the wizarding world. I wanted you to know that you are welcome to make use of these books as well as the ones in the larger library.” His eye met, and held hers as if waiting for a reply.

Hermione stared at that one beautiful grey eye in awe. “Thank you.” Her voice was a whisper. The attraction she was feeling towards him made her feel incredibly vulnerable. Turning her eyes from his, she glanced again around the room.

A certain potions book caught her eye. Rising, she moved to the shelf and pulled it out to look at it. Smiling, she ran her hand over the ancient leather binding. “There are only seven of these that were ever made. Five of them were said to be lost back in the time when Camelot fell.”

“Not lost,” Lucius said softly, rising to move to her side. “They were hidden.” Reaching out, he opened the book to show her the writing on the inside of the cover.

Hermione gasped as her eyes grew wide at what he had shown her. It was Merlin’s signature. “Oh my gods!” she exclaimed softly.

He chuckled, as he flipped to the back of the book and waved his hand over it. “Reveal,” he spoke softly. Instantly, a map became visible.

At her incredulous look, he nodded. “Yes, it is a map leading to the locations of the other books.” He smirked, “Among other things.”

Hermione dropped her jaw. “If you have such precious information, why have you not gone in search of them?”

Lucius regarded her with his good eye for a moment, before turning and making his way back to his seat. “I guess it was because I was not willing to give such knowledge over to Voldemort.” He turned and sat, smiling at her expression. “He didn’t deserve the power that those books would have given him.”

Shaking her head, Hermione moved back to the couch. When she sat down, she cradled the book in her lap. “Let me see if I understand what you are saying. You were his servant. You tortured and killed countless people for his pleasure. But you didn’t think he deserved that much power? Am I the only one who thinks that makes no sense?” She asked in a disbelieving voice.

Lucius looked from her to the book she held in her lap. “Do you agree with every single thing Harry does?”

Hermione shook her head. “That isn’t the same thing...”

“Just humor me. I think you will understand. Do you always agree with him?”

“No.”

“Did you ever think that there was another way he could do something, but you went along with him, because you thought it was for the greater good?”

“Well, yes. But...”

“It was the same with me,” he continued. “Hermione, I was born into a family that worried over the survival of our culture. My father believed that Voldemort would help ensure our existence. To him, it meant the survival of the pure-blood wizard.” He shook his head. “My family did not ALL believe Muggles to be terrible. My mother, actually had a great deal of respect for them.”

Hermione sighed. “Then why did you have such a desire to see them destroyed?”

Lucius looked away from her. He stared into the depths of the blazing fire for what seemed an eternity. “My family was the most important thing in my life,” he said finally. “When I joined Voldemort’s army, I did so under the assumption that I would be doing something towards the survival of my kind.”

He turned back to her, leaning forward slightly. “It isn’t hatred that made me stand by Voldemort’s cause, but fear. It has long been believed that if bloodlines were diluted by blending with Muggles, the race of Wizard would soon disappear altogether.”

Hermione bit her lip to keep from exploding at him in her anger. Instead she asked, “Then how would you explain me? My family has no wizard blood of any kind. Yet, here I am.” She shook her head. “You can’t call me a weak witch.” Her gaze turned mutinous. “Or, would you call me a freak?”

Lucius shook his head and sat back in his chair. “I would call you fantastic.” His answer brought a blush back into her cheeks, and she looked away from him.

Suddenly, she asked him softly, “How do you have such a knowledge of potions?”

Lucius chuckled. “Severus and I were not simply friends because of our both being in Slytherin. We both had a love of potions and spells. We constantly competed to see who was the best student in potions.” His smile widened at the memory.

“There was a time when, if I had not joined Voldemort, I would have tried to become what Severus himself is. But, then I met Narcissa. It was then I found I had other things I wanted more.”

Hermione felt her own heart tighten at the sound of affection in his voice. She had heard from Severus that Narcissa had been a special person. “I am sorry for your loss, Mr Malfoy. Severus said your wife was an amazing person. I never really got along with Draco, but I knew he had a great deal of respect for you.”

Lucius nodded. “Yes. Severus would have married Narcissa if she would have had him. She was a gentle creature. In fact, I think the only thing that made her choose me over him was the fact that I was much more romantic than he.” He sighed. “He never knew how to woo a female.”

He then grew solemn. “Draco deserved a chance at life. I will never forgive myself for being such a fool as to think my family would be safe if I sided with that monster.”

The idea of Lucius being romantic brought a fleeting smile back to Hermione’s lips. It was hard to imagine that an ex-Death Eater had a romantic side. But the pain in Malfoy\'s voice made her feel his self-loathing. He completely hated himself. She could sense it as if it was her own emotion. It left her dismayed and speechless.

In her silence, Lucius stood and bowed slightly in her direction. “I bid you adieu and wish you luck in your research today.”

As he turned to leave her, she searched her mind for something to say to him. Anything to bring him some measure of comfort. With some pain, she realized there was nothing she could say to ease the ache that was buried deep inside his soul. Before she could think of anything, he was gone. Disappearing out a door on the far side of the room. Leaving her alone and baffled.

For a time, she sat on her seat and thought over their conversation. Finally, with a sigh, she brushed the memory aside, and set about looking through the books that were now at her disposal.

When she finally allowed herself to stop, it was well after midnight. Stopping, she laid the books aside, and went to find her bed.

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“He needs you.” The voice spoke gently in Hermione’s ear. She ran through the halls of the manor looking desperately for Lucius. Where was he? Who was this woman that was beckoning her? “Find him.” The voice whispered softly, “He needs you. Only you can help save him from his pain.”

A sad, but beautiful melody was echoing through the halls. Hermione kept running. If she kept searching, surely she would find him.

The voice once again whispered in her ear, “You must go now. Show him that time can heal his wounds. Do not let him slip again into loneliness.”

Suddenly, a flaxen-haired ethereal beauty was before her. Crystal blue eyes held hers. The expression on the lady’s face was one of kindness, but urgency. “Love him,” the translucent woman whispered desperately. “He so needs to feel deserving of love again. He needs to find forgiveness. It will help him be able to forgive himself.”

Hermione came awake with a start. Sitting up in the bed, she looked anxiously around the room. She felt as if there was someone in the room with her. Grabbing her wand, she spoke softly, “Lumos.”

The room was empty. There was no one else there besides herself. Taking a deep breath, she sat back against the head of the bed and took a few deep breaths. Looking about wide-eyed, she still was unsure that the owner of the voice in her dream was not there.

As Hermione pondered the dream and its meaning, she became aware of the beautiful, but haunting piano music from her dream. She could hear it even now.

Rising from the bed, she grabbed her dressing gown and threw it on, tying it at the waist as she moved out of her room and into the hall.

Following the sound of the music, she felt a chill go up her spine. She remembered the dream. She remembered the woman in the dream. Now the music was calling her. Almost as if she had no ability to refuse, her legs carried her down the stairs, closer to the haunting melody.

Once she reached the ground floor, she could feel the music vibrating through her body. She walked to the closed door of the music room and opened the door that separated her from the sound. Wetting her lips, she moved into the room, and looked towards the sound.

On the opposite side of the room, with his back to her, sat Lucius Malfoy. His fingers moved expertly over the keys of the grand piano. His injured hand seemed to relax naturally on the exercise it was getting.

The music called to Hermione’s soul. Tears sprang to her eyes as she could not stop herself from moving closer. It was beautiful, but sad. There was so much pain in the music that a sob threatened to escape her.

Lucius seemed to not know she was there. Instead, he continued to pour his heart out over the instrument. It was as if he was giving the piano the full depth of his hurt. His shoulders shook slightly as he threw himself into the emotion of the music.

Something stirred deep within her as she watched him. Unable to stop herself, she moved to stand beside him as he played. Engrossed as she was by the music, she did not notice when he looked up and saw her.

His hands stilled. The music that had once seemed to nearly possess her was no more. Tears falling freely down her cheeks, she turned to meet his gaze. A gasp escaped her when she was met by his scarred face.

Lucius had pulled his hair away from his face for once because the locks had a tendency to torment the sensitive skin of his scar. Because it was pulled back, Hermione was faced with the full depth of his imperfection.

Dark red and purple welts crisscrossed over the skin. It was the swelling of the scars that made the eye on that side of his face useless, because it was forced shut by the scars that ran above, below, and beside it on the outer side.

The only things unmarred on that side of his face were his perfect lips. His mouth opened, as if to plead with her not to be horrified by what she saw. Then his face took on a different expression. His good eye became cold and angry. When his mouth moved, it was to twist into an angry frown.

“Have you seen enough yet?” he asked bitterly. “Or do you need to have a close up?” In an instant, he was up, the piano bench knocked over in his haste.

Angry hands reached out and grabbed her, pulling her closer so their faces were mere inches from each other. His breath heated her face as he panted furiously. With an ferocious growl, he grasped the soft material of her dressing gown and pulled her even closer. “Is it fun? Don’t you just love being able to gaze upon the hideous freak that I have become?”

Tears continued to run down Hermione’s cheeks. Gently, she reached out and placed her free hand against Lucius’ cheek. “You are not a freak, Mr. Malfoy. You are in pain, and I am sorry for that.”

A baffled expression touched his face. With an anguished cry, he thrust Hermione away from him. She stumbled, and very nearly fell before regaining her balance.

“Go back to bed, Hermione.” His voice was dangerously low. “There is nothing left to see tonight.” He turned his back on her and fled the room so fast she knew not which way he had gone.

Left alone in the room with the grand piano, Hermione felt suddenly overcome with the level of torment that Lucius was enduring. He saw himself as a freak. He loathed his complexion, and thought that Hermione would hate it as well.

Racing from the room, she ran back to the safety of her own. Crumbling on the bed, she let herself cry the tears that would not seem to stop. He was in so much pain. It was almost more than she could abide.

What was worse, she reasoned, was that she had believed him impossible of change. But she could see that he was a very different man now. He was so changed from the man he had once been.

Severus had told her that his changing sides was a huge victory for the Order. He was right. But it had come at a very high price for Lucius. She wasn’t sure that it had not been too high a price to pay.

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