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Amazing Grace	By : Kooldragon400 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 41309 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any recongizable characters, nor do I make any money off of this story.

Chapter List
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Well hello there, friends! It's been much, much too long! I know you've all been waiting [im]patiently for a new chapter. I offer no excuses save for the fact that I had a debilitating case of writer's block, with a mix of I didn't know where the hell I was going to take this story. Well, after some soul-searching, a little sun-drop, and some cookies(there were no survivors) I have a good idea of where I'm going to take the next arc of this story. So enjoy, and please, please let me know what you think. Just a few words, moments of your time to write them, let me know how you feel. If there's something that's bothering you, then ask. Other than that, please enjoy.

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Lucius smoothed down the front of his dress robes, plucking an imagined piece of lint from the front before turning to the mirror. There would probably be a handful of people in costume at this thing, but he had chosen to go for an elegant gothic style.

He was wearing a snug-fitting charcoal suit-coat that flared at the waist, and reached halfway down his thighs. Underneath was a dark grey vest and a deep black shirt. His pants were dark grey and were fitted snugly to his legs, and tucked into knee-high black boots. He decided to leave his hair unbound tonight, framing his face and hanging elegantly over his shoulders.

He was intrigued to see what Grace had done with Hermione. His daughter had claimed the young woman a couple hours ago, and he had not seen either of them since.

He sighed softly as he stood in the foyer, waiting for the two women. Draco stood next to him, looking sharp in a royal blue tail-coat with gold trim and a white scruff at his neck. He was wearing black pants tucked into soft black boots. When asked what look he was going for, he gave an annoyingly cocky grin and replied that he was ‘beast.’

“So I guess we’re going for fashionably late…” Draco said with a sigh. Their attention was caught with the clearing of a throat.

Grace stood at the top of the stairs, looking every bit as elegantly gothic as her father. Her hair was swept into an up-do, revealing a long, slender neck that was encased in the mandarin collar of her dress. A small medallion hung around her neck in the shape of a bat with its wings spread. Her eyes were smudged with thick, dark liner and layers of black, charcoal, and silver, making her steel-colored eyes smolder. Her lips were painted blood red, and her short, manicured nails matched.

“Looking great, sis. Now where’s Hermione? We have to go or we’re going to be late.” Draco said. Grace’s red lips turned up at the ends.

“I present to you, Hermione Jane Granger.” She said, and Hermione appeared behind her.

The sparkling green and gold dress accentuated every curve of her body without overpowering them. She was wearing shimmering gold heels and carried a small gold clutch in her hand. Her hair had been tamed, and hung in soft golden-brown ringlets around her face and over her shoulders. Her eyes had been artfully done in a smoky palette of greens and gold, making her whiskey colored eyes glow.

“Words do no justice to your beauty.” Lucius said softly. Draco’s eyes darted towards his father, but Lucius only had eyes for Hermione.

Draco then caught his sister’s gaze, and the teenager looked far too smug. He’d have to teach her about schooling her expressions.

It doesn’t do for a Slytherin to give away his/her plans too soon.

~~

Lucius watched, annoyed, as Grace made her rounds amongst the boys close to her age. She was a fair dancer, having absorbed enough of the impromptu lessons given to her by himself and Draco to appear half-way sane on the ballroom floor. One boy leaned close to whisper something to her, and she threw her head back and laughed. Lucius growled, his hold on his punch glass tightening.

He felt a touch on his free hand, and looked beside him to see Hermione smiling up at him.

“She’s danced with nearly every boy here.” He said stiffly.

“But she has done nothing inappropriate. As a matter of fact, I saw one boy get a little free with the placement of his hand, and she moved it back up and fixed him with a glare that would have made Viatoris frosty.” Hermione said. That did make Lucius feel a little better.

“Dance with me.” Hermione exclaimed suddenly. He looked at her curiously.

“In front of everyone?” he asked quietly. Her expression sobered a bit.

“Oh…if…if you don’t want to…” she said softly. He put down his glass of punch, and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor.

“I never meant to have you assume I didn’t want to…” he said softly, twirling her close to him expertly and catching her in a perfect starting pose. Luckily for him, the next song was a fast one.

They moved quickly and in sync, black and green swirling together in a sensual cloud. Hermione’s breath was taken from her when he twirled her like a top away from him, only to bring her back and pin her with a smug look. Her eyes were alight with excitement, and as the song ended she clung to the front of his robes, gasping for breath.

“Amazing.” She breathed.

“I agree wholeheartedly.” He returned evenly, his grip on her loosening and allowing her to pull back. Her heart hammered in her chest as she walked on jelly-like legs away from him, and towards the table to get a glass of punch.

~~

Tom stood next to Sirius, watching the twirling dancers with amusement and curiosity. Several times Sirius had been asked to dance, and several times Tom had encouraged his father to go. Tom stood by himself those times, watching as his father danced with pretty girls. He wanted his father to be happy, and if that meant finding a woman to be his wife, then he had no problem with it. He’d always wondered what it was like to have a mother…

Another pretty woman approached, flashing Sirius a white smile.

“Would you like to dance, Mr. Black?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes seductively. Sirius looked down at Tom, who gave an encouraging smile and nodded. Sirius smiled in return, and held out his hand to the woman. She took it with a giggle, and Sirius led her to the dance floor. Tom stood at their little place, watching his father dance expertly with the pretty lady.

“Would you like to dance, Tom?”

He turned his head to see Grace staring at him, looking lovely in her black spidery dress and dramatic make-up.

“That would be nice.” Tom said. “But I don’t know how.” He added. Grace smiled.

“I’ll show you. It’s simple.” She said, and led him out on the dance floor. “You put one hand here…” she started, and placed his small hand on her waist. Tom blushed slightly as his hand rested on the swell of her hip. He was old enough to know that Grace was very pretty, but his six-year-old emotions did nothing but make him embarrassed. “And then you put your other hand in mine.” She said, and enclosed his free hand in hers. “And we move to the rhythm of the music.”

She just swayed back and forth, moving her feet slightly to turn them in a circle. Tom was enjoying himself immensely. It was nice to feel liked, to be treated with kindness… She looked down into his face, and he looked up, his ruby eyes glittering with delight.

“You’re a good dancer, Tom. You’ll be a heartbreaker someday.” Grace teased. Tom’s dark eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“I don’t want to be that. One day I want a wife, and children that I can love. If it’s God’s will, I’ll have that one day. I just have to wait for him to send her to me.” He said with a smile, as if that were that. And to him…it was.

Grace smiled at him.

Tom was opened his mouth again, about to say something, when he felt the brush of a spell, and an overwhelming calm came over him.

‘Make an excuse to get away from the girl.’

It was a strange thought…why would he want to leave Grace? The dancing had been enjoyable, and her presence was soothing. What could make him go away? Oh…punch sounded good right now.

“I’m going to go get some punch.” He said, his voice flat. He pulled his hands away from her, and Grace looked slightly confused as he began to walk away.

“Tom? Tom, the punch is the other way…Hey!” She started after him. He was walking quickly, but even his long legs were no match for Grace. She walked quickly up beside him. “Tom, you’re going the wrong way. Where are you off to?” she asked.

He was silent a moment, his feet still moving as he stared straight ahead. “Need to use the bathroom.” He amended, brushing past a few dancers.

“I thought you wanted punch?” Grace asked, quite confused. Tom neared the open door of the ball room, that led into a long, ornate hallway with several doorways. “You should at least tell your dad…” she trailed off, turning her head to search for Sirius.

He was on the other side of the ball room, twirling a girl with curly blonde hair around, laughing as they danced.

Grace frowned, and turned back to the doorway in time to see the hem of Tom’s navy robes disappear around the corner. He wasn’t even going towards the bathroom!

She hurried out of the ballroom, and turned the corner. Tom was heading straight for two cloaked figures, and one had his arms out to recieve the boy.

"Tom, who are these people?" Grace asked nervously.

"Turn around, girl, and go back the way you came." the other said. his voice was gruff, as if he had been gargling with rocks.

"Tom...?" Grace asked again. Then she looked back at the two cloaked figures, and saw that one had his wand out. She gasped, and shot forward, grabbing Tom around the waist and hoisting him into her arms.

"Get them both! We have to be on the other side of the wards!" the gruff voice commanded, and she heard the thud of boots behind her. She knew she was in trouble, running in heels and with a good chunk of dead weight in her arms.

When strong arms wrapped around her, she did the only thing she could think of. She screamed. She held tightly to Tom, trying to wrench herself free and screeching like a banshee.

A few party goers poked their heads around the corner, and seeing the struggling girl in the grasp of a hooded figure, turned to summon the Aurors.

"Come on! The wards end here! We can get them both!" the gruff voice said.

The arms around Grace tightened painfully, and he lifted both her and Tom into the air, dragging them back towards his partner.

"STOP!"

The figure didn't have to turn to know it was Aurors, but he did turn so that Grace and Tom were in front of him, preventing the Aurors from firing. He stumbled backwards as quickly as he could, only a few feet from the ward line.

"Extend the wards!" an Auror cried. Grace looked over just in time to see Sirius round the corner, panic etched on his face. He saw the two being dragged away, and darted forward at a full run, shrugging off an Auror as he tried to stop him.

"No! Not my son!" Sirius cried. "TOM!" Sirius screamed.

The agony filled exclamation pulled Tom out of the grip of the Imperius curse, and his eyes widened.

"Sirius!" Tom cried, trying to break free.

Sirius launched himself forward, but just as his hands would have touched Tom, the figures activated a Portkey, and the group disappeared before his eyes. He crashed into the floor, skidding a few feet, before he whirled around.

"No! NO!"

~~

They all landed in a struggling heap, and Grace and Tom were crushed beneath the weight of two grown men. One of the men wrenched Tom from Grace’s grasp, and she was knocked aside with a blistering slap.

“You almost got us caught, you stupid whore!” the man snarled. Grace put her hand to her face and scrambled backwards, her eyes watering from the sting.

“What do you want?” she asked, watching the other figure hold Tom tightly.

“We wanted the boy. You were never part of our plans. But we are opportunists, and will not pass up this opportunity.” He said, and Grace had a distinct feeling that she was in for a world of trouble.

“Why do you want me?” Tom asked, still half-heartedly struggling against his captor.

The hooded man turned to Tom, and reached up a roughened hand to pull back his hood. He had rough brown hair that was streaked liberally with grey, and his face was rough with scars. His dark eyes glared at them, twinkling with some malevolent emotion.

“We waited so long for you to return. We had almost given up hope, until we read that article about you returning with Black. Welcome home…Master.” The man said, bowing slightly to Tom.

Grace’s thoughts were racing. That meant these men were Death Eaters…or at least Voldemort sympethizers. Which was actually bad for her, really, because of the opinion most of the Dark Lord’s supporters had of her father.

She started slightly when other people materialized with pops in front of the group. There were five more people in the room, each with a wand, and each most likely loyal to Voldemort, and hoping to turn Tom into another reincarnation of him.

“The girl is unnecessary. Take her to the dungeons.” The unmasked man said, and a figure moved forward, leaning down to jerk Grace to her feet. Tom screeched angrily, and kicked back, catching his captor in the knee. The man grunted, assumedly in pain, but did not drop the lad.

Grace was dragged out of the room firmly, but not unkindly. The situation was starting to sink in, and she began to cry softly.

“Calm down, girl. We’re not going to kill you.” The man said. He was probably a little older than Harry and Draco, but he didn’t have their looks. He was a plain young man, with mousy brown hair and muddy blue eyes.

“I want to go home.” She hiccupped.

“Yea, well, I don’t see that happening.” The young man replied stiffly. They came to a doorway that led down stairs, and he pulled her along, walking carefully as to not drop her down the stairs, which seemed to go on forever. They walked for an indeterminable amount of time, before they finally came to the bottom step. There was a short hallway, and a door at the end. He brought her towards the door, and opened it with a flick of his wand.

Inside was a medium-sized room that was set up as a Spartan living quarter. There was a waist-high bookshelf off on one wall, stacked with old, dusty books, some of which were missing their binding. A small cot rested in the corner, draped with several old, but sturdy looking blankets. There was a small niche just off to the side of the cot, and she could see the white porcelain of a toilet in the dark corner.

“I don’t want to stay here. Please…” Grace said, and turned back to her captor. He looked uncomfortable, and wouldn’t look her in the eyes.

“I’ll make sure you have food to eat. Try not to destroy anything.” He said, and quickly backed out of the door. Grace shot forward, trying to catch the door, but it slammed in her face. She beat on the solid, sturdy wooden door for a good twenty minutes, screaming at the top of her lungs. She only quit when her voice gave out, and her hands made their displeasure known by starting to turn purple with bruises.

She slid down the door, sobbing angrily. Angry at herself. These people would treat Tom as a king…they would see to his every whim. But she…would be treated as dirt. She should have never interfered.

But as soon as the thought came she banished it. She had no way of knowing the people were Voldemort sympathizers. She could not have known that they wouldn’t torture him and kill him upon capture.

But she also did not know what they wanted with her. Sure she had been a bonus, but what were they going to do about it?

“Are you through with your temper tantrum?”

Grace jumped violently, whirling around to find the source of the voice. He was standing in the middle of the room, looking quite annoyed.

“How did you get here?” she asked.

“I am the Master of this house. No room refuses me access.” He said with sureness. “You were an accident…..but a pleasant one.” He said, and Grace wasn’t sure she liked the look on his face.

“You should be glad I’m not just going to slit your throat and leave you on your father’s doorstep.” He said softly, smiling malevolently when Grace shuddered.

“I’ll be back later in the evening to see how you’re settling in.” he added, and disappeared with a pop of displaced air. Grace stared at the spot where he had stood, and then at the thick door that locked her into this windowless room. Her gaze lowered to her bruised hands, and she let her head fall back against the door with a thunk, before saying aloud the only two words that could sum up her situation.

“Well, fuck.”

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Truer words have never been spoken. Well, well, well. Let's see how our heroes are going to get out of this one, eh? Be sure to drop a few lines/words/pages/paragraphs to let me know if you liked it. If you have a CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, feel free to leave that too, but I warn you....flames will be used to make s'mores and then will be summarily deleted. :3

Hope you enjoyed!
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Amazing Grace