In Love and War

Welcome Welcome!! I have been working on this little fic for quite a while now. It is my first LM/HG and I am trying hard to make it up there with all the other LM greats. Please please please review. I would love to hear what you think, the good and the bad. :) Enjoy!


Disclaimer again: I own nothing of Harry Potter. I make no profit from this fanfiction.

Chapter 1

He couldn't take his eyes off of her, watching her fall to the floor each time that wand was raised, hearing her bloodcurdling screams, seeing her cinnamon eyes dart around the room, pleading for someone to help. He had never wished for death, but in this moment he did. Her eyes were filled with pain and her body was tense, he could tell even from his position on the sofa. Her cries and tears upset his stomach.

When she was first brought into the sitting room, her eyes had locked onto his son. They were trained on him in contempt, but also the hope that he would rescue her. Draco didn't even have the decency to meet her gaze. He had stared, his eyes cast on the carpet and not the girl in front of him.

“Does that hurt mudblood? Are you tired of screaming? Tell me what I want to know!” Bellatrix's hooded eyes glazed over in hate as she lifted her wand and cast a cutting spell, causing the girls body to fall to the floor with a sickening thud. She laughed, that high cackle, that he hated. It grated on his ears, making him want to cease the torture and just use the old methods, veritas serum or the imperious curse. Either would have the girl singing truth in a matter of minutes.

Lucius flinched in his chair as he saw the wound open up on the girls chest, her crimson blood spreading across her cream sweater rapidly. His stomache turned, almost feeling her pain for himself.

It wasn't that he cared for the mudblood, no, he merely respected her bravery. She had shown no fear two years ago when her and her friends had faced Lord Voldemort's most capable death eaters in the Department of Mysteries. The only emotion she had shown was a slight blush when she had looked at him. That look is what had held him captivated for the past few years.

He was amazed that she was captured. She was wanted by the ministry for failure to appear and register as a muggle born. He was sure that she would be shacked up safe and sound with Potter and Weasley, so he was surprised when Greyback brought the brave Gryffindor to the manor. She had been apprehended in London, probably trying to get into an Order safehouse.

“I will never tell you! I would never betray my friends!” The girl looked up at the death eaters in the room, blood staining her lips. “You stand there ready to torture me for information, all for a man who wouldn't spare a thought to kill you. You are weak Bellatrix Lestrange. You are a weak coward.” Hermione's voice rang out, laced with anger and pain. He looked over at her again as she struggled to bring herself up off the floor, her eyes shot daggers at his wife's sister while she spoke.

Bellatrix leapt after the girl like a lion going in for the kill. The girl's body visibly tensed as she braced herself for what was to come next, but her eye's didn't betray her fear.

Lucius didn't know what caused him to act, but he was across the room and standing in front of the girl in flash. He turned around and pulled her into his arms, feeling the warmth of her flowing blood seeping through his robes. He closed his eyes and disapperated them from the room.Bellatrix's screams followed them through the tight, black tube.

He looked around them, unsure for a second if he had brought them to the right place. He lit the end of his wand and pushed it out in front of them, still holding on tightly to the girl.

The room they were standing in was paneled in dark woods with plush green carpets strewn across the marble floors. The furniture was covered in white linens to keep the dust off of the fine silk fabrics. In every corner, cobwebs had taken up residence. The dim light from his wand only made the room look more sinister. He waved his wand and the candles around the room instantly flickered to life.

With the room illuminated he looked down at the young witch in his arms and noticed why she was being so silent. The girl had fainted from both her injury and apperition. He moved silently over to the couch and ripped the linen off, throwing it to the floor in a flurry of white fabric. He placed her down gently to ascertain the damage done. With a flick of his wand he removed her jeans and sweater, baring her creamy skin.

There was a bleeding gash on her chest, and a stab wound on the side of her stomache. The wounds were deep and her breathing was getting shallow. He summoned a bowl of warm water and a rag to clean it out. He was no healer, but he knew a few spells, he only hoped it was enough to save her. He would have taken her to St. Mungo's, but he couldn't be sure of their loyalties. He would be damned if he had just risked everything he had to save her, only to have her taken from him a mere hour later.

An hour later and a strong dose of Dreamless Sleep Draught she was sleeping peacefully and pain free for the moment. He went upstairs and showered quickly, changing into an extra set of robes that were in the house. Walking into the kitchen he found an unopened bottle of Old Ogden's, but no food. He picked up the bottle and a glass and made his way into the drawing room where the girl was sleeping. He pulled a chair up to the sofa so that he could keep an eye on her and used his wand to light a fire in the massive fireplace.

While sitting there his mind raced over what he had done. He had betrayed the Dark Lord, he had left his son at the mercy of his insane sister-in-law and Narcissa, his wife. She had never wanted to be part of the Dark Lord's plans, she had never taken the dark mark. Theirs was not a marriage of love, but one of respect. He shuddered to think of what was going to happen to them for his desertion. His eyes roamed over the girl he had given it up for and expected to feel anger at her for his decision, but he didn't. All he felt was a strange sort of peace.

He summoned a light blanket and leaned his head back against chair. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep minutes later.