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Captive at Number 12	By : CeliaEquus Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 32439 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I have no claim on the Harry Potter franchise, and am making no money from any of my fan fiction.

Chapter List
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The June after their first anniversary Yaxley took his wife and their eight-month-old child to Australia. While Hermione was pregnant, and then after the birth, she was in no fit state of mind to be dealing with any searches.

Back at his helm as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, however, he was able to contact the Ministry of Magic in Australia and get their assistance. He was fortunate that he had worked and fought against the Dark, as this gained him a partial reprieve. (It helped his case, of course, that he was married to the female third of the Golden Trio, the woman he called his own ‘lucky charm’.)

He still had to pay a large sum to the Ministry and, of his own volition, even more to the various war charities. He also opened his manor to the homeless and those who were missing family and friends (until they could be reunited with those who had fled), although it took a bit of magic to extend the rooms and provide enough furniture. House elves from Hogwarts were seconded to the Yaxley Estate on a temporary basis.

Watching Hermione cuddling their son as they rode along in a train, Yaxley thought back to one of the scariest moments during her pregnancy.

It was prior to leaving Number Twelve. Hermione was supposed to be packing the last of the food from the cupboard. Remembering the incident with the knife at Christmas, he decided to go and help her, especially now that he knew she was carrying his child. It gave him a warm feeling inside that someone actually loved him, and that he would be a father in less than a year.

But when he stepped into the room, his blood ran cold.

Hermione was standing on a rickety stool to get food from the enchanted cabinet. What she couldn’t see was that one of the legs was about to give way.

Just as it buckled under, he ran forward. Her scream was brief for he managed to catch her in his arms in time. He held her close, his heart racing, apologising softly.

“You should have told me that it was too high,” he said.

“I thought you did it on purpose.”

“Very likely, but then I forgot over time. You’ve nagged me about so many things that I’m surprised you didn’t think to mention it.” Then he kissed her passionately, not relenting until they had both run out of breath.

They were unwilling to travel great distances via floo or Portkey with a baby, knowing how dangerous it could be. Unfortunately, while they took as many trains as possible, the last leg to Australia had to be in an aeroplane, a nerve-wracking experience for the Pureblood wizard.

“What are you thinking about?” Hermione asked, looking up at her husband from where she sat beside him. She had noticed him watching her intently.

“I’m thinking about how beautiful you are,” he said, eyes sparkling in amusement. She blushed at the clichéd line.

“Liar,” she said. She snuggled closer. “But you’re very sweet.”

“‘Sweet’? No one has ever called me ‘sweet’, my dear.” She giggled. “I’m just thinking, with no specific train of thought.”

“I see.” She stroked her son’s hand. They had named him after Severus for saving Hermione’s life. Yaxley was still reeling over the fact that his firstborn was a boy, and credited it to Hermione being a Muggleborn.

This, obscurely, made him wonder about his sister.

“All right, now you’re really thinking about something specific, aren’t you?” Hermione asked, noting his change in expression. He nodded.

“I wish I hadn’t torn up Lysandra’s letter,” he said. Her eyes widened.

“You never told me that,” she said.

“I thought better of it, and managed to repair the damage somewhat,” he said. “But her writing had always been terrible before; my actions just made it worse.”

“Which part of Europe was it?” she asked.

“No idea.” He was staring out the window. “But I was sure that it was Europe at the time. Maybe she really went to Africa? I don’t know.”

“Can you find her? You found my parents.”

“It was a long time ago, Hermione.”

“Not that long ago…”

“Yes, it was. I was only months out of Hogwarts, and had to go into work straight away. My father had enough time to change his will so that nothing would go to my sister, which was fortunate for me. I needed the money as well as the place to stay, and was provided for when he and Mother passed on.” He stroked her arm absently. “I almost didn’t have the time to become a… You-Know-What.”

“But you made time.”

“I made time,” he said softly. “And I made even more time when I turned against them, so don’t you forget that.” They smiled at each other.

The Yaxleys took a bus from the train station and, after a short walk, found themselves in front of the house where Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins lived. It was an old Queenslander, with a cream exterior and a red-painted, corrugated iron roof. Even without the brass house number on the wooden mailbox, she would have known who lived there… because sitting on the front verandah were her parents, sipping some kind of drink and relaxing on their cane furniture.

“It’s them,” she whispered, tugging on his hand. “My mum and dad.”

“I realise that,” he said. Baby Sev was in a carrier strapped to his father’s torso and was wearing a bucket hat with the Australian flag printed on it. It may have been winter but the sun was still blazing down from on high, and they were all wearing long sleeves to protect their arms. It was warmer in a Queensland winter than in an English summer anyway.

“What do I say to them?”

“Would you like me to do the talking?” he asked, fiddling with the clasp on the inside of the gate. She didn’t reply. Finally they were walking up to the house, met by Hermione’s parents.

“Good morning,” Mr. ‘Wilkins’ said, standing up. “Can we help you?”

Hermione’s tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. She looked at her husband, and he took over.

“We’re looking for Wendell and Monica Wilkins,” he said.

“You’ve found them,” Mrs. ‘Wilkins’ said, smiling at them. “What can we do for you? Dental work?”

“Could we talk about this inside?”

“Of course. Please come in.”

Yaxley raised an eyebrow at Hermione as they followed the couple inside. No wonder she was a Gryffindor; her parents were too damn trusting. They probably would have invited him into their house in England if Hermione hadn’t altered their memories, simply because they were that polite. Or maybe they just felt safer in Australia? He hoped that was the case.

“So what is this about? Are you both from Eng…”

A few moments later Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins were no more, and Mr. and Mrs. Granger were slowly taking their place.

Hermione shrank back in her seat under her parents’ angry glares. Her mother spoke first.

“What… you… what did you do?”

“I had to do it, don’t you see?” Hermione said, looking from one to the other.

“No, I don’t see,” her father said. “You violated our minds with your… your witchcraft. Turning teacups into feathers or something is one thing. But this?”

“I had to! It was the only way to save you!”

“Save us from what?” Mrs. Granger asked, crossing her arms. “Hermione, how could you do such a thing? It was so irresponsible. You didn’t even ask our permission!”

“What girl does that to her own parents?” Mr. Granger said. “I’m too ashamed to look at you.” He shut his eyes, shaking his head. “Just what kind of daughter are you? You used to be such a good girl…”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione whispered, looking at her hands. Yaxley couldn’t take it anymore and stood up, drawing his wand.

“Sit. Down,” he said, voice low and dangerous. The Grangers sat. They could tell that he meant business, and exchanged nervous looks.

“We should just…”

“Be quiet, Hermione.” He continued to stare at his in-laws, his gaze switching between them. “Now you listen to me. Your daughter did a very brave and selfless thing when she erased herself from your memories and convinced you to leave Britain.” He rolled up his left sleeve and displayed the faded, but still noticeable, Dark Mark. The Grangers flinched. “I was one of those men once – a Death Eater. In fact, I led the team sent to your house to ‘deal with’ you.” He closed his eyes briefly.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” Hermione said, touching his arm.

“They need to understand,” he said softly, glancing at his wife. But he lowered his sleeve anyway before returning his attention to her parents. “A number of things could have happened to you. At best, you could have been killed outright with no pain, just to hurt your daughter. What is more likely is that you would have been captured, tortured and used to manipulate her, putting her in the position of having to choose between saving her parents and helping her friend save the wizarding world by defeating the Dark Lord. And chances are that you would be dead by the time she got to you.” Seeing that the Grangers were suitably pale he sheathed his wand and looked at his wife.

“I’m so sorry, Hermione,” he whispered. She smiled shakily, knowing that he hadn’t been exaggerating.

“The important thing is that it didn’t happen,” she said. “The important thing is that you reformed, and that I got to help.”

“You’re the reason I reformed. Come,” he said, holding out his hand. “We will leave now.”

Hermione blinked back tears. “Y-yes. We can go.”

They were almost to the door when they heard footsteps. She braced herself, and Yaxley reached for his wand, just in case. But she was spun around into a warm embrace, one she’d been longing for ever since Sev was born.

“Mummy,” she said, and she wept into her mother’s shoulders. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Mrs. Granger said, also crying. “Oh, I’m so sorry. We should have known…”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt…”

It was awhile before the Yaxleys finally got out of there, with many promises of coming back to visit before they returned to England. They had to go through all the bad things first, wanting to make way for happier moments. Mr. Granger had given his son-in-law the third degree while Hermione and her mother changed the baby. Fortunately he seemed to pass the test; but it was still more nerve-wracking than the first time he had met Voldemort.

They got to the gate and turned to wave to the Grangers when they heard a man next door.

“Lysandra! Phone for you!”

“Coming!” a woman called. She stood up from a garden bed near the fence bordering the two properties, and dusted her hands off on her overalls. Hermione could see an immediate resemblance, and looked up at her husband.

“Is it…”

“Yes,” he said, watching the woman enter the house. “My sister.” He smiled at his wife. “I told you that you were my lucky charm.”

“Then let’s go and see her…”

“Severus needs a sleep,” he said, adjusting their son in the carrier. His smiled faded. “And I need to think about this.”

They said good-bye to her parents and started to walk to the bus stop. Halfway there Hermione threaded her arm through Yaxley’s.

“What did you mean?”

“About what?” he asked.

“When you said that you needed to think about meeting your sister. What is there to think about?”

“I haven’t seen her since… well, long before you were born. If I didn’t know that we were in love I would be worried about the age difference. But there’s nothing we can do about it. Not that I would,” he added quickly when she looked at him with big, hurt eyes. “Hermione, don’t look at me like that. You know I love you.”

“You’re lucky you’re just so darn cute,” she said. She giggled at his expression. “Now tell me why you need to think about seeing her. Don’t think that I haven’t seen you looking at the few remaining photos you have. I even heard you saying that you wished Sev could know his aunt.”

“W-when was that?”

“Not long after I came out of hospital. I was falling asleep while holding Severus and you came and took him from me to put him to bed. That was when I heard you say it.”

“Oh.” They sat in the bus shelter. “She’ll hate me.”

“She won’t. You’re her younger brother.”

“I don’t know whether I’m ready to face her.”

“Just try,” she said. “Look, my parents will be at work tomorrow, for afternoon surgery. We’ll make a special visit to your sister.”

“Hermione…”

“The bus is coming,” she said, and she smiled brightly. “We’ll come back tomorrow, and that’s that.”

He chuckled. “Yes, dear.”

This time they were pushing Sev along in a pram, their hands touching as each held part of the handle. The bus driver – along with some of the other passengers – had been very helpful when it came to getting the pushchair on and off, and they were still somewhat overwhelmed by the friendliness shown. Such a thing would never happen in London.

“I’ll get the gate this time,” Hermione said as they walked down the street. But they ground to an abrupt halt when Yaxley stopped in his tracks.

“There she is again,” he said, staring at his sister. She was working on a different part of the garden, and a man – her husband? – was kneeling in the dirt beside her.

“Come along,” Hermione said. He didn’t budge. “Oh, honestly.” She stepped on his foot hard enough to make him notice her.

“What? This was a bad idea, love. Let’s just…”

“Hello!” Hermione called, waving at the couple. They turned around, shielding their eyes against the sun. Shocked by her behaviour, he let go of the pram, and had to hurry to catch up to his wife as she moved forward, steering around the bumps in the path.

“G’morning,” the man said, grinning at her from under his hat. “Can we help?”

“Oh my gods,” the woman whispered, staring past Hermione. “Lysander? I-it can’t be you.”

“How are you, Lysandra?” Yaxley said, touching Hermione’s side. She could feel his hand shaking, and felt a bit guilty.

“What are you doing here?” Lysandra asked. She glanced at the young woman. “I thought it was a joke, that you married a Muggleborn, let alone Hermione Granger.”

“Hermione Yaxley, now,” she said, holding out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs… I’m sorry. I don’t even know your last name.”

“It’s Mills,” she said, still keeping an eye on her brother. “This is my husband, Bradley.”

“You can call me ‘Brad’,” he said, shaking Hermione’s hand, since Lysandra still hadn’t moved. “You’re one of the kids who saved the world, right?”

“Oh, uh, just a part of it,” Hermione said. “It helps when you have the right people on your side.” She gazed up at her husband. “Even if they weren’t on the right side at first.”

“Sandy kept hoping you might find us, `specially after the war ended and her brother turned out to be one of the good blokes.”

“I was pregnant, and our son’s only five months old this Tuesday. This is our honeymoon, and our anniversary. Actually, we found you by accident…”

“Let’s get you inside,” Brad said, opening the gate. He had to nudge Lysandra out of the way. Suddenly nervous, she tucked her blonde hair behind her ears, leaving muddy smudges on her cheeks. Yaxley kept close behind Hermione, glancing at his sister every so often as they followed Brad into the house.

It was slow-moving at first, although they had had a long time to come to terms with what had happened all those years ago. Brad broke the ice with a joke about their names being so similar, and they admitted that their parents had had very little imagination. They hadn’t even bothered to name their house elves or any family pets, and neither of the children had a middle name. For once, they really didn’t care.

Lysandra was a very forgiving person, and she adored her nephew. Her own three children were grown-up, and the youngest – Marie – was getting married in June. Her two brothers – Jack and Phil – had already moved away, but they were coming back to Brisbane for the wedding.

“We were actually planning to go to England after that, partly so that I could find you and hope that you could forgive me for running away like that, and for never getting in touch again,” she said. When her brother went to speak she raised her hand. “No. I know how we were raised, and it took falling in love for me to see how wrong the old ways are. But I knew that I could never get any of you to see it my way, not until Jack came along. By then, it had been too many years. I knew that Mother and Father had died, and you… you joined…” She glanced at Hermione as she trailed off. There was an uncomfortable silence.

“I still have your note,” he said. “But so many things were moved around when we had to accommodate all those people after the war ended.”

“Her writing’s terrible anyway,” Brad said. He grinned. “I have to do the Christmas cards.”

“Speaking of Christmas, where will you be for that?” Hermione asked. “I don’t know whether my parents are going to move back to London…”

“We hadn’t discussed that,” Lysandra said. “If we could get work, we were thinking about moving there one day. Now that You-Know-Who is gone, and has been gone for some time… and since the children have now flown the nest… I would like to get to know my nephew.” She tickled Sev’s feet.

“How would you two like to come to the wedding?” Brad asked. The Yaxleys looked at each other.

“We’d like that very much,” Hermione said.

Baby Severus was finally asleep, fed, burped, changed and sung to. Before Hermione was even settled in bed Yaxley had pounced on her and proceeded to tear her clothes off.

“Oh, for Merlin’s… be careful!” she hissed. His smouldering look silenced her, and she even helped him rip open his shirt and whip off his belt.

“Now, I love our son very much,” he said, removing her knickers last of all, “but we really haven’t had much time to ourselves, and it’s been far too long since we last made love.”

“That’s not quite true…”

“I haven’t been able to take your properly, and that’s bad enough. No more.” He thrust two fingers into her and groaned. Thank the gods for magic, and the way it healed a witch’s body. Even after giving birth she was still tight. If her hips were slightly wider, her stomach slightly softer and her breasts slightly fuller, she was all the more beautiful to him, knowing the reason for the changes. He curled his fingers up and she gasped loudly, hips rising off the bed.

“You’re right,” she said. “You’re… absolutely… right.” Her voice grew weak as he nibbled the skin of her neck while his fingers surged in and out, sliding through her gathering arousal. Sweet Circe, her body ached in need. She clutched onto her husband’s shoulders and used her legs to pull him into place. With this explicit encouragement, he withdrew his fingers and then pushed into her, making her eyes roll back in her head.

As they moved to their climax, she recalled flashes of their wedding night…

Hot skin… taking him in her mouth… swallowing… his tongue returning the favour… lips meeting… bodies rocking together as the passion built… whispers of love…

“I love you,” Hermione said, and she whimpered as she began to see stars.

“I love you, too,” he said. “Hermione… my own…” His breathing grew erratic as he pumped into her harder.

Just then she tilted her head up and caught his mouth with hers. He held her tight in his embrace, and as soon as her lips parted his tongue delved between them and searched hers out. While their tongues danced their bodies continued to move frantically, soon reaching bliss. Fireworks exploded behind their eyes as they came together, parting only when the need for sleep became overwhelming.

“You said once…” She trailed off, playing with the sheets. For the first time Sev had slept through the night, something for which his exhausted parents were exceedingly grateful.

“What did I say?” Yaxley asked.

“That you assumed that you’d have to have a second child, because the first one would most likely be a girl.”

“Yes.”

“…But we have a son.”

“Hermione,” he said, rolling onto his side. “Do you want another child?”

“Do you?”

“Yes, I do,” he said. He began to stroke her arm. “But only when you are ready. I think that I really would like to have a daughter. Seeing my sister again, being back in her life, has made me think. And seeing the way your father is so protective over you makes me want that kind of relationship. I want to be the over-bearing father who knows that no man will ever be good enough for his daughter.”

Hermione smiled. “All right. But I want to finish my education first, and find work.”

“You won’t fall pregnant until it’s the right time,” he said. “Your body – your magic – will know.”

“Oh.” She considered this. “Is that one of those things about magical pregnancy that you should have told me?”

“…Yes?”

“Then why did I fall pregnant in captivity? So to speak.” She blushed.

“I have thought about that many times,” he said, lying back. “I believe… that I needed a reason to defect, and that I needed to know that my feelings were reciprocated. And you needed your freedom. Our magic responded to those needs.”

“I think you’re right.” She looked at him slyly. “So we can make love as often as we like, without unwanted consequences?”

“Unless our needs change, yes.”

“I know what my needs are at the moment,” she whispered, and she climbed onto him, straddling his waist. He smirked.

“Allow me to rise to those needs,” he said, grasping her waist.

On a visit to Hermione’s parents, Lysandra and Bradley joined them so that the families could meet each other. Well, they had already met – in fact, were already friends – but now all barriers (including modified memories) had been removed, and things were going well. At least, that is, until dessert.

“It’s a bit cold for ice-cream, so I made fruit salad,” Mrs. Granger said, setting a big bowl in the middle of the dining table.

Now Yaxley had always managed to avoid having fruit salad with Hermione, and this particular one contained all of the fruits that she had had that night, the one time he took her roughly and without preparation. He didn’t want her to remember that time, not when they had so many happier memories of her imprisonment.

So he was understandably nervous when he looked up and saw that she had frozen.

Her face crumpled, and his heart nearly broke at the thought of her crying. But then she let out a squeak. And another.

In the next moment she had burst out laughing, tears of mirth falling down her cheeks, and he couldn’t help but laugh as well.

THE END

A/N: Thank you for your suggestion, Sarah Rensi. You made a very good point about Lysander and Hermione both being Shakespearean characters. Also, as I said to Mum, some parents just have no imagination when naming their kids, or at least put no effort into it.

I hope you all enjoyed the fic. Let me know if you want to read another story with this pairing, especially since I already have one plotted. *Proceeds to look guilty*

Also, let me know if you want a sequel. I’m getting used to sequel requests, even (or especially?) for the most obscure pairings; so much so that I’ve been picturing what I might do for this one. Probably something set while Severus Yaxley (whose middle name is actually ‘Pictor’, for those who are interested; initials SPY) is at Hogwarts. Of course, that means that we’d only get to see and hear about his parents every so often. Still, it’s a thought.

And the last note: I created a story banner for this fic, which is on Flickr and my Facebook account. Ooh, and on Deviantart now. I made a whole bunch of story banners, actually, even if they’re only quite basic. Let’s be honest: I’m quite basic, and I use basic equipment.
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Captive at Number 12