How it began...
How It Began...
His family had wandered off some time ago, leaving him sitting all by himself in a rubble strewn corner.
Narcissa was assisting the schools matron in triage, fussing over missing limbs and spell burns and such. There was a wizened old wizard with a flute and a bassoon sprouting from his face, weighting it down horribly and tootling at passers-by. Cissy was studiously ignoring him in favour of a pretty girl in a singed Ravenclaw jersey with a sprained pinky. Narcissa was only helpful to a point, she was not about to actually get her hands dirty nor deal with those she perceived to be undesirables.
Draco was speaking rather urgently to the Weasley girl nearby. About what, was anyones guess but they were gesticulating with some fervour and the Weasley girl, though red-faced, seemed prompted by some emotion other than anger. Indeed, she seemed rather flustered... as long as it did not lead to an engagement (or a teen pregancy), he did not really care at this moment.
Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Patriarch of the Malfoy Legacy and Bastion of the Sacred Twenty-Eights unsullied line, though, was at a bit of a loss. He was not sure what he was supposed to do and the uncertainty was uncomfortably unfamiliar.
Was he a villain, waiting to be carted off by the Aurors?... when they eventually arrived.... and noticed that he was even there?
Was he supposed to help the wounded and the emotionally damaged? He was no healer, not of the body nor of the mind nor of anything else.
Was he to sit and wait for someone to give him a task? Clearing masonry, making potions, finding the missing, herding students, handing out blankets? He could borrow a wand... maybe...
He would admit that he may have been experiencing something like shock.
It was over.
Just like that.
The man who was Lord Voldemort, He Who Must Not Be Named... The Dark Lord was no more.
From his unobtrusive corner, he looked around the formerly great 'Great Hall' and observed the witches and wizards, major players and bystanders both, moving around in the dusty and smoldering aftermath.
Potter stood upon the faculty dais, speaking very seriously to Kingsley Shacklebolt, who looked suitably grave and who nodded along obligingly with the Boy Who Lived. The Young Man Who Lived Again now, apparently.
There was a pair of young people making out furiously over where the school banners had once hung, clothing askew and showing much more skin than was appropriate. There was a time and place... really! Was that Longbottom? Augusta would be quite disgruntled to see that little public display.
Minerva was amongst a cluster of distressed, young Gryffindors. She had her arm around the shoulders of a young man who clutched a broken camera to his chest and she was speaking in low ones to those huddled around her... most likely offering sincere comfort and guidance and such.
Blaise Zabini reclined, napping with his feet propped up on a broken pew and his hands folded neatly behind his head, while Theo Nott sat beside him reading a slightly charred tome, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened... at least, not a furious battle between light and dark. Nott Senior had just died in a rather spectacular fashion, yet Theo seemed blithely unconcerned. These Slytherins had turned at the last, like his family had done, standing with the Order and students to defend the school.
Male-Weasley-Most-Junior was whisper/yelling at the Granger girl over by the doors... or at least, where the doors once were. Now more of a jagged portal of broken beams and crumbled stonework. His face was an amusing shade of puce which did nothing for his overall appearance. Granger was flushed also, though the colour suited her very well. Her amber eyes smoldered like embers and her diverting hair sparked with barely contained magic.
It all culminated with the Granger girl stomping her little foot quite forcefully before spinning away and storming from the hall.
"You need to sort out your priorities!" The Weasley boy shouted after her, before slouching off towards his parents, who sat in a cone of silence and grief, next to the body of one of their other children. He was probably going to sulk.
As diverting as all of this people watching was, it did not solve his immediate dilemma. Malfoy felt that he should at least attempt to look busy; go and speak to the Slytherin boys, or maybe help his wife by going to find a potion or two for the injured. There were bound to be some in Sever...
Severus!
He remembered suddenly, guiltily, that Severus' body lay abandoned in the dust and grime of the Shrieking Shack, where the Dark Lord had left him drowning in blood and venom. His friend was all alone and quite forgotten. That would not do.
Lucius Malfoy took to his feet and he strode from the Great Hall.
The striding did not cease, even as he crossed the vast, battle pitted grounds of the once illustrious Hogwarts school. Passed the collapsed gates, he journeyed down the short, windy road to Hogsmead village and beyond. He did not hesitate at the rusted gates of the shack and he shoved the creaking door aside as if it were not even there.
He came to a juddering halt, however, when he came upon the remains of his oldest friend, being straightened up into a more dignified pose than the slumped pile that he had been left in, by the young Miss Granger, on the gory floor of the bleakest room in all existence. The girl had tears in her eyes that occasionally broke free and trickled down her cheek as she fussed with the line of buttons on Severus' frockcoat and siphoned bloodstains from the snowy cravat that didn't quite cover the gaping hole in his throat.
"I couldn't leave him here..." She whispered, knowing that she was no longer alone in the dismal scene. "Not after all that he did... all that he had to endure..."
“I had the same thought.” Lucius replied, causing her head to whip up and her eyes to fix on him with an uncertain tinge. The wand in her hand wavered slightly as her grip tightened on it. He was, after all, Lucius Malfoy. The girl had endured torture upon his drawing room floor, not a few weeks past. He was, essentially, the enemy still.
He raised his hands in a show of peace.
“I am unarmed, my dear.” He assured her quietly, stepping forwards and lowering himself to his knees at his deceased friends side. “Without a wand, I was going to carry him back to the castle by the strength of my own back. I am very glad that you are here... It may have been quite the long trip.”
The corner of her lip twitched upwards though she did not smile. She instead relaxed slightly, lowered her wand and turned her attention back to Severus.
Lucius watched her work in silence, noting the quick, efficient wand movements and that everything was cast without uttering the spells. She wasn’t even moving her lips. She was very young to have such a skill.
His perusal took in more of her as she laboured. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail, though the knotted locks could not be contained by conventional means and snaked free at every opportunity. It was rather pretty up close, not some dull, common brown as he had always thought. There were colours woven in: golds and caramels, chocolate and cinnamon. She was painfully thin from her time in hiding and very pale, highlighted perhaps by her rapturous hair. She had dark circles under her eyes... not surprising considering all that had just happened. Lucius was cognizant that he may not have looked his best either. There was a bruise on her temple, cuts and scrapes aplenty. But, under all of the ravages of battle, there was a subdued beauty, easily overlooked. One had to take the time to blend the pieces together to admire the whole; From her blazing amber eyes, to her pert little nose, to her velvety rosebud lips.
She had a small cut in the soft cushion of her lower lip, a small bead of glistening, crimson blood was forming.
Without thought, a snow white handkerchief was in his hand and he had reached across the void, touching the girls lip gently with the fine silken square.
Again, she froze, her eyes meeting his over his friends body. Lucius froze also, his fingertips just pressed to her lip.
He drew back his hand slowly and showed her the spot of blood spreading through the gossamer strands of snowy silk.
"I apologise Miss Granger." He said with real contrition. "I overstepped."
"Are you not frightened that I will taint you with my dirty blood?" Her eyes were tight and her voice terse.
He looked away and tucked the blemished handkerchief back into his pocket.
He sighed "I have no excuses to offer, Miss Granger." He murmured. "I was taught a certain way and it has taken me time to see the error of it all." He looked back up at her. "You are more pure than I could ever hope to be, I see that now." His shining silver eyes bore into hers and for a moment the air was thick with something that was unnamable to him. He cleared his throat and stared down at Severus' peaceful face, more peaceful than the man had ever looked in life, even when he was very young. "There is nothing that I could ever do to repay you... no recompense for what happened in my home, and all that occurred before and after. For you saving my sons life..."
A small hand entered his field of vision and lay itself softly on his knee. He looked up into those amber eyes and felt his heart still at the look of compassion that they held.
"I forgive you, Mr Malfoy." She whispered, a small smile gracing her lips and her face (heart shaped) shining with sincerity.
Her voice was really quite melodious. He blinked.
She patted his knee and turned her attention back to her self-appointed task. In no time, Severus was laid out in repose. His appearance as immaculate as it had always been. Buttons, cuffs and cravat straight. His long somewhat stringy hair pushed back and a clever glamour hiding the mangled flesh of his throat. He smiled sadly down at his friend, probably his only true friend.
He was bought from his melancholy thoughts by a touch to his leg once more. He looked up and saw Granger holding out a wand. Severus' wand.
"He would want you to have it, I think." Miss Granger leaned forwards placed the wand in Lucius' open palm.
Deepest Ebony, Ten Inches, Unicorn Hair Core. A series of intricate runes decorating the grip. It hummed in his hand, infused with the faith that Severus had for the side of the light, with the very light that Severus held deep inside, with the undying love that Severus held for his one glorious, lifelong light, Lily Evans. It felt calming, peaceful and good.
Lucius Malfoy found himself suddenly sobbing.
Cradling his friends wand in his hand, he mourned his own wasted life. A life filled with wrongs. Loveless and almost empty. Almost...The brightest spark being his son, who would most likely turn his back on his husk of a father after all of... this.
Lucius could feel everything pressing in on him, the stains of time and failure marring his very skin. He could feel the raspy stubble on his jaw, feel the lank hair against his cheeks. He could feel his sallow skin sagging under the weight of his age. He could feel the barren abyss around him, feeling the loneliness and hopelessness that Severus himself must have felt in the end. Lucius realised that he was just the same. Lonely... friendless... except he had nothing to cling to. Severus had had Lily Evans memory and the steadfast pledge to end the Dark Lords reign.
Lucius... Lucius had nothing.
He was not sure how long he knelt there, weeping like a child, until a warm body gathered him in their arms and held him tight to their chest.
Nimble little fingers ran through his long hair and a soft comforting crooning sounded, vibrating gently through his cheek, pressed to a soft breast. And he clung to her. Clung to the little muggleborn who, for most of his life and all of hers, he believed to be beneath him. He clung to her like a life line, moved towards her like she were the tiniest flicker of light in the endless dark. He squeezed her tight and felt every ounce of empathy that she exuded, let her sweetness sweep over him like a soothing balm.
He began to regain control, slowly and reluctantly. He was hesitant to leave this warm sanctuary, but the tide of emotion was ebbing.
He slowly raised his eyes and looked up into her face. Her bright amber eyes glowed for him as she gazed down at his face, her fingertips pushed back stray strands of platinum hair, a small sympathetic smile on her perfect rosebud pink lips. She was a beautiful angel, bathed in the moonlight from the dingy windows and surrounded by dancing little dust motes.
He raised himself from her breast, his silver eyes wet and red rimmed. And he kissed her.
All thought, beyond the merging of flesh, vanished with the slight touch.
The slight touch turned firmer. The firmer touch turned desperate...
It registered that he was not alone in the moment. The young woman was indeed reciprocating, kissing him back with as much fervour as he was enacting.
It was the work of but a moment to lay the young woman onto the dirty floor. A moment longer to have clothing shoved and ripped aside.
Her fingertips, which had previously caressed his long hair, now clawed at it, fisting the glinting lengths and pulling him even closer.
His hands though, roamed. They raced. From modest and youthfully firm breast, to slim, and unfortunately boney hip, to toned yet unbelievably soft thigh.
Frantic, almost violent movements found him cushioned by her small feminine body, found her hands tearing at the placard of his trousers, found him pressing his rigid cock into her tight but welcoming body.
They both froze and stared into each others eyes, amber and silver.
Hermione drew in a shaky breath and blinked away a tear. Lucius' shock was palpable. He knew what he had just done.
"Don't stop." Hermione whispered, with a small furrow in her brow.
It felt like every version of heaven inside of her. It had been a long time since he'd experienced intimacy in any form but even then, it was a pittance in comparison to the sensual overload that he was going through at that very moment. Even knowing that he had just deflowered a young woman, half of his age, did nothing to dampen his ardor. Even knowing that for the first time in all of his life that he had committed adultery against his cold and inconstant wife despite his derision at those of his peers that took lovers. Even knowing these things and many more reasons to stop... she had told him not to, whispered it softly and passionately. It was too much like Nirvana to stop.
So, he withdrew from her, drawing a soft moan from her softer lips, and entered again with a groan all of his own. Their eyes remained locked, though their eyelids and lashes fluttered with every subsequent thrust. It took no time for the careful in and out to become more feral. The young beauty beneath him, moving to meet him, her fingers unravelling from his tangled hair to clasp at both of his cheeks, to drag him down to kiss in a tangle of tongues and teeth. Both of their senses drowning in each other. Their tastes and sounds, the feel of their bodies moving together, rushed and harried. The sight of their faces suffused with raw emotions, mixed and unnamable. And the heady scent of arousal overwhelming the stink of dust and decay.
All too soon, amidst a stunned cry of completion and a low groan of spend, the two collapsed panting and gasping to the hard floor.
All too soon, sanity returned.
Lucius Malfoy raised his head from where it lay against the warm dusty wood of the floor and looked down at the young muggleborn that he had just despoiled. Her eyes were softy closed, hiding the warm depths of liquid amber. He withdrew from her and sat back on the creaky floorboards, adjusting his clothes and casting his eyes over her crumpled and splayed form and then at the, once again, forgotten body of his once good friend.
The girl sat up slowly, pulling her jumper down to cover her chest and dragging her jeans up. She looked at him with wide eyes and a bottom lip trapped by even white teeth. She looked over at Severus corpse and gasped her hand flying to cover her mouth.
"What did I just...?" She gasped.
She scrambled to her feet, her eyes casting manically across the floor to find her wand, which had fallen by the wayside in the... interaction? She found it had rolled and lodged at Severus' side and she dove to collect it.
"I need to..." She choked awkwardly, lifting the wand and levitating her former professors body and making for the doorway in a frenetic rush.
Lucius sat for a moment shocked and stunned by his behavior, his eyes staring emptily into space for a moment too long before he gathered his wits and Severus' wand and took to his feet in pursuit of his little paramour.
"Hermoine... Miss Granger." He called as he pushed through the door and into the open air, slightly tainted by smoke and ashes. He had no idea what he would say to the girl but something needed to be said. Something.
This sort of thing was natural, wasn't it? In times of danger and stress, people sought out others for comfort and release... it happened all of the time, the stories of such were practically endless.
Damn the girl moved quickly... she was already disappearing around the first bend in the road up to Hogwarts with Severus' form bobbing along behind her. He hurried after her.
He made it to a bend in the uneven road, catching sight of wayward curls fleeing from sight yet again when he was suddenly bought up short by a deep authoritive voice shouting from behind him.
He reluctantly turned to face whomever it was, his agitation at having her slip away without a word prickling at his skin... and sighed in frustration. The two burly men in red robes approached him quickly with wands drawn and leveled.
The Aurors had finally arrived.