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The Raven's Song	By : Quills Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 6265 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Lyra sat back in her chair with a low sigh, staring at the enchanted snowscape Magical Maintenance had today chosen in a nod to the coming winter. A faint, barely noticeable kick automatically drew her hand to her stomach where Sirius’s baby had evidently awoken before she recalled the need for secrecy and hastily jerked it away again.

None of those in the office knew about the pregnancy yet, but she would have to tell her colleagues soon. Afraid of questions she could not answer, Lyra had made every excuse under the sun for her bouts of sickness and trips to St. Mungo’s, but she knew that time was running out. It seemed to be flying past of late, and with the baby due in April, by the time Christmas was out of the way plans would have to be made for her leave of absence. As soon as she announced it, though, the first question would surely be the identity of the father – and with the Ministry still actively hunting for Sirius as its most wanted fugitive, the truth was something she could not give them. No matter how many times she turned the dilemma over and over in her mind, the idea of having to outwardly deny her child’s father was just as unpalatable as it had ever been. It was bad enough that none of them knew Sirius was her husband, but to have to openly proclaim another man had fathered their child was a sickening prospect.

Lost in her thoughts, Lyra didn’t realise she was no longer alone in her tiny corner of workspace until Madam Bones leaned in close to touch her arm. “Daydreaming again, Miss Menadue?”

She gave a guilty start. “Oh! Sorry, Madam Bones. I was just trying to remember where I left the paperwork about the Muggle baiting that the Aurors asked for.

“Perhaps you will remember on your way downstairs.”

“Downstairs?”

“Indeed. I need the files on the trial of the Lestranges, Miss Menadue,” she said, a deep furrow in her brow as she pushed her glasses up her nose with a tiny sigh. “I believe they’re filed in the vault near Courtroom Ten.”

“Of course, Madam Bones.” Grateful for the opportunity to stretch her legs away from the confines of their department, Lyra pushed her chair back and exhaled deeply, smiling inwardly when the baby flipped over again inside her in protest at being moved. A little solitude was something she rarely had these days, but if she lingered in the vault she would have at least half an hour of it before lunch. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been entirely alone, and when she moved into the darkened corridors leading to the Department of Mysteries, the tension she carried as a constant companion outside of Grimmauld Place finally began to drain away.

Yet as she turned around the final corner that descended into the maze of old courtrooms where the most heinous of crimes had been judged, the unmistakable sound of footsteps coming towards her made her stomach lurch. She squinted into the darkness and warily lifted her wand, muttering “Lumos,” under her breath to strip away the worst of its secrecy – and her unease spiralled when she saw the shape of a wizard coming towards her.

It wasn’t unusual for witches and wizards to remain cloaked as they passed through the Ministry, particularly as they drew near to the Department of Mysteries, but something about this wizard had her instantly on edge. His face was in shadow, masked by the cowled hood of his cloak, but with every step he took its contours became clearer.

A whisper of musk in the stale air between them made her heart skip a beat. Lowering her gaze, she quickened her pace and made to push past him, but his wand shot out to bar her way – and pointed directly at the gentle swelling her charmed robes disguised from view.

Lyra recognised the wand, and with a thrill of horror she froze where she stood as Lucius threw back his hood. Months had passed since she had seen him last, but to her despair her body proved as much of a traitor in his presence as it had ever been. A fever of lust exploded through her veins, and the deep flush that instantly seared her skin told the wizard precisely how fervently her body responded to his reappearance.

“Very good, pet,” he said softly, the low menace in his words unmistakable despite his tiny, triumphant smile. “It pleases me to see our forced separation has in no way lessened the fervour with which your body responds to mine; and I assure you, I in turn want you more than ever.”

She forced her face to harden, but even as she did so she knew the wand Lucius still had pressed against her defenceless child had stolen any chance she had of fighting him with magic, for the gamble that he would not defy Voldemort’s orders wasn’t one she dared take. All she had at her disposal were words, and already she knew they would prove a poor ally in the face of his intent. Still, though, she met his gaze and coolly spoke. “What are you doing here, Malfoy? Has your master no errands for his whipping boy to run today?”

He laughed quietly, the sound chilling in its entire lack of warmth or humour. “Lyra, you know as well as I do that I am no mere whipping boy. I am one of the Dark Lord’s most trusted lieutenants, and the things I have seen over these past months alone are far beyond anything your worst nightmares could conjure up. But come, I did not come here to talk of such horrors with you, and I will not permit you to distract me.”

“Then I’ll ask you again.” She swallowed hard as she involuntarily glanced down at his wand. “Why are you here, Malfoy?”

He slowly lifted his left hand, and her breath hitched when his fingers brushed against her feverish face. “Looking for you, Lyra, and fortuitously it seems fate was determined to throw you into my path once more. I am overjoyed it has done so, for I have missed the sight of your lovely face so much that I came to the Ministry today on the sole mission of stealing you away from your work. Shall we, then?”

“What?”

Lucius gestured at the closed door to her right – the door that opened into the infamous Courtroom Ten. “With me, Lyra.”

Finally she understood, and what was worse she saw no escape, not without risking the safety of the baby she already loved more than life itself. Helpless, she mutely lowered her wand and held out one hand for him to take. Instead, though, his arm snaked around her waist until his hand replaced his wand against the soft curve of her stomach where her baby slept in blissful ignorance of the danger they were in.

Silence reigned, the only sounds in the abandoned corridors that of their soft footsteps as the door swung open beneath the touch of Lucius’s wand and Lyra’s shallow breathing, it itself an unwanted physical confession of the effect the unwanted intimacy had upon her. He did not comment upon it. Instead, he raised his wand and waved in a sweeping arc around them to illuminate the candles that lined the circular wall, the ranks of seats harking back to the Roman gladiatorial arenas long since gone. A sole stone seat sat in the centre of the sunken holding area, vast metal chains wider than her arm draped over it.

Lyra shivered and unwillingly looked up at Lucius. For a moment, he seemed lost in the ghosts of the past, apparently unaware of her scrutiny until she tried to pull away and his arm automatically tightened around her. Still he stared off into the distance, and finally he lowered his head towards hers to speak. “They held my trial here, you know.”

Her head rolled to the side. “When Voldemort first fell?”

He visibly tensed, a hint of reproach upon his taut face. “You are bold, speaking his name as you do. But yes, that is the only time I have ever been called to account for my crimes. Fortunately for me, money speaks far louder than actions. I will not deny to you I was guilty of all they accused me of, but a few well-placed donations and reminders of favours owed won me my freedom.”

“Then you’re gambling on the same stunt working again this time?”

“No, Lyra.” He twisted to face her, a spark of something dark and foreboding in his cold eyes. “I am gambling everything on the hope that this time, the Dark Lord will succeed. But you and I both know I didn’t bring you here to talk about that. Are you going to be a good, obedient girl, or must I force you into the chair where I once sat?”

A treacherous rush of arousal flooded through her afresh at the thought of finding herself strapped into the chair used to hold prisoners on trial, finally helpless to prevent Lucius from taking all he wanted from her. She closed her eyes until his quiet laughter rippled around her.

“The chains are unnecessary, then? I almost find myself disappointed. Perhaps we shall progress to them once we are through with talking, Lyra, but for now I have an order for you.”

Lyra choked back a moan, near disarmed by the mere thought of all he hinted at. “What would you have me do?”

“Oh, a great many things, but first I want you to remove the clever little charm, pet. I will not have you hide anything from me.”

There was no need to ask which charm he meant, and it would serve no further purpose. Resigned to the inevitable, she muttered the countercharm and blinked back her tears as Lucius instantly took her wand away, pocketing it amongst the folds of his velvet cloak. Without asking permission, he reached out to touch her stomach again, something she could not name flitting across his eyes as his long fingers spread intimately against her abdomen. “I cannot pretend this does not pain me, Lyra,” he eventually said, the strain showing through in his low voice. “I do not like seeing the proof that you allowed another man to share your bed when you have fought so hard to deny me that precise same joy.”

His hand threatened to move lower and Lyra clenched her lips together to hold back a cry, painfully aware she had to speak to distract him before it reached all it sought. “I - I thought you were abroad.”

“For a long while, yes. I came back when a certain rumour reached my ears, Lyra.”

A solitary tear rolled from each of her eyes, for against her will fierce arousal pulsed through her each time his achingly tender touch stroked against her stomach, still moving steadily lower. “About my baby?”

The fist of his right hand clenched around his wand. “In a way. Lyra?”

A soft moan rose from the back of her throat, for he had spoken her name with such hunger it was impossible not to respond in like. Far more powerful than any spell, his proximity wove around and consumed her until she could think of nothing but him. “Lucius?”

Lucius inhaled sharply, and then without warning he slammed her against the back of the stone chair and snatched her hand up. Lyra jerked away from him with a panicked cry, but not before his fingers had run over the line of the ring she wore on her left hand. Though it too had been charmed to be invisible from sight, its presence there was unmistakable to the touch.

“Then it is true! You are wed!”

His enraged cry echoed around the domed ceiling and she flinched, keenly aware once more of the trap she had walked into. There seemed to be no use in denying the accusation, and so she simply wrapped her arms around her stomach as he began to slowly circle around her in unspoken menace.

“And is it the man I heard it was?” he asked, every syllable of his words clipped and curt.

“Who...who did you hear?”

Lyra cursed the waver of her voice, for Lucius came to a halt in front of her again, tossing his wand aside to take her face into his hands. “Black,” he hissed. “Sirius Black. A Pureblood, at least, but that is little consolation to me! Tell me, for I know it is his child, but is it he who holds your heart as well?”

“I can’t say anything you want to hear, can I?”

He snorted. “No, you and I both know you cannot. Damn it, Lyra, if I could I would wave my wand and force you to forget him and the child you made with him!”

She shook her head frantically, trying in vain to pull away. “Please, don’t hurt my baby!”

“I would not dare. The Dark Lord has forbidden me to do so.” His lips barely even moved as he spoke so bitterly. “He wants your child born safely, Lyra; he or she will be a Pureblood, after all, and you must know how he cherishes those.”

“Then why have you bothered to bring me here?”

Lucius let her loose and stepped back as he ran his hand through his hair in agitation. “Because I want to know what you want, Lyra. Name it and it will be yours!”

Dazed, she could do nothing to stop herself from taking a step closer to him again. “I don’t understand...”

His face contorted as he caught hold of her hands to draw her inescapably into his arms. Much to her consternation, she no longer even wanted to break away. She held her breath, waiting for his words and all that would surely follow.

“I want you, Lyra,” he whispered, the force of the hunger in his eyes as they locked onto her enough to steal away the very last of her composure. “I want you, and I cannot bear being deprived of you when I crave your touch more than any woman before you; not unless you will give me your word that you will save me from this despair! I have everything, you see, everything I need except you. Just tell what you want and it is yours, I swear, and all I demand in return is that you give yourself over to me just as you want to!”

Lyra’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Anything?”

“Anything at all, pet,” he said desperately. “I will wait until after the child is born if I must – not patiently, I cannot promise that, but I will wait if the reward is to be you!”

Stunned into silence, she stared up at him as he searched her face for an answer. Though she fought with all her might to cling onto the need to resist, it was a losing battle she waged; one she feared would soon be lost entirely. “I can never be yours, Lucius,” she forced herself to say, despite how agonisingly tempting the idea of all the fire in his eyes threatened truly was. “Have I not told you that since the very start?”

“Yet if it wasn’t for Black, pet, you would already be mine.”

Terrified that any further denial would sound hollow, she clenched her lips together tightly and dropped her eyes, only for Lucius to take instant advantage by capturing her jaw in the palm of his silken smooth hand. Gently but insistently tilting it upwards, he grazed his lips against hers until she cried out loud, then straightened up again with a pained groan.

“Still you try to fight this, Lyra. I see it in your beautiful eyes, and it grieves me. Deny it if it makes you feel better, but I know I am right. Were it not for your fool of a husband, you would be lost to me already – and soon you will be regardless. Must I prove it to the both of us?”

Her breath hitched violently as his hand drifted with consummate tenderness over the contours of her face, trailing fire in its wake as her lips parted with no conscious command. “Lucius, please...”

“What is it that you are begging for, pet?” Lucius lowered his head towards hers as his thumb brushed her lips to wrench another agonised cry from the back of her throat. “For me to stop, or...”

Lyra was shaking from head to toe. “Or?”

“Or for me to give you all I know you crave. Lyra, lovely Lyra, let this stay our secret. Be mine.”

Lucius’s long, fair hair brushed against her skin, even that gentle touch enough to make her arch into him even before one of his hands came to rest in the small of her back, guiding her into the head of his muscular body. Their hips moulded snugly together, the curve of her stomach not yet so great to stop her from feeling the unmistakable shape of the wizard’s hard cock pushing insistently up against her, and she realised to her horror that if she stayed in his arms even a moment longer she would lose the will to deprive herself of all the glories it promised. As he leaned in to finally take the kiss all this had been leading up to, she took advantage of his distraction to break away and lunged for his wand where it had dropped forgotten to the floor.

He cursed loudly as he plunged his hand into his robes, snatching up Lyra’s wand as she pointed his at him with a trembling hand. His bitter frustration showed on his furiously reddened face, but when he spoke his voice was low and calm, a lullaby one might speak to a crying child or frightened animal. “Now now, pet,” he said softly, steadily advancing on her as she backed away. “Don’t be a fool. I know you want this, and by fighting me you are only depriving yourself. Remember, Lyra, you have me at your mercy. You have a power over me that no woman has had before – anything you want is yours if only you will give yourself to me –“

“Then please, Lucius, I’m begging you!” Lyra sunk to her knees as a loud sob racked her body. “Let me go, please – if you want me even a little as much as you say you do, then let me go. Keep me here against my will and I’ll never give myself to you, I swear that now!”

Lucius stilled, and then his face contorted yet further as he lowered her wand. “How I wish I didn’t believe you, pet – and how I wish I could simply bring myself to take all I want from you regardless! Yet I know that would not be enough for me, not when I yearn for your complete surrender. My triumph would be forever marred unless you willingly give me all you are, and near as that is I see now that it has not come yet. Go,” he said abruptly.

“G-go?”

“Yes, go!” With a furious snarl that twisted his handsome face, he tossed her wand at her and gestured angrily at the door behind them. “Get away from me, you infuriating little witch, before I lose what shred of self-control remains to me and do all I know I should not!”

Lyra didn’t need to be told twice. Clutching both wands tightly to her heaving chest she fled without looking back, not stopping until she had dropped Lucius’s wand around the corner and locked herself inside the vault that had been her original destination before he appeared and turned her world on its head once more. She had almost been able to forget him until today, but now she realised how impossible that would always be. She craved his touch with as much ferocity as she wanted her husband’s, and even the knowledge of the danger he posed to all she held dear could do nothing to lessen that.

Terrified though she was, she knew already this would have to stay a secret. Sirius already had enough to deal with, and telling him that Lucius was back and seemingly determined to stop at nothing to convince her to have him would surely push him over the edge – and the full disclosure of all that passed between them would threaten to strike the death knell for their fledgling marriage. For the sake of their child if not the love they shared, this burden she would have to bear alone.
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The Raven's Song