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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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Holy s**t on a sandwich with a side of s**t and covered in s**t gravy and washed down with some s**t soda! There chapter was- count 'em- *TEN PAGES* in MS Word. I did not want to break this chapter into another part. Know this: the siege ends here, but I opened up a whole 'nother can of whoop-@$$. :D

Lolz. I need to stop breaking into the oreos. :3 But anywhooters. For realz. Read the chapter. And then Review, because that is a logical series of events. You squeal because there's a new chapter, you read it, cry, laugh, and piss yourself a little, then your review to say 'WTF WERE YOU SMOKING?' So yeah....get on that.

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Viatoris fluttered above the battlefield, disgusted as some of the vampires fought tooth and claw. He didn’t like them. They were one of the only creatures able to flee his father that did not have his father’s blessing for it. They were Cursed.

He spotted a wizard’s duel, and swooped like a great black bird of prey, grasping one wizard under his arms and lifting him into the air. The man screamed and struggled, but Viatoris’ superior strength won out. He held the man with one hand, and tilted his head back with the other. His cloaked face lowered over the man’s face, pressing his gaping mouth to the wizard’s. Then, he pulled. Draining a soul was exhilarating, and he had never experienced it. The soul was savory, like a good meat, and he relished the whispy treat as it was drawn into his blackened heart.

Then he dropped the limp shell of the man, watching in satisfaction as the body thumped fatally against the ground.

Someone had the presence of mind to cast a Patronus, and the silver sparrow flew at him like an ethereal arrow. Viatoris floated where he was, and as the sparrow drew closer, he held up a skeletal hand in the universal movement for ‘stop.’ The sparrow, surprisingly, stopped advancing, and hovered in one place. Then, Viatoris turned his hand over and cupped the fingers. The sparrow, obediently, landed on his palm.

Confused shouts and cries rang out below. A Dementor playing with a Patronus was unheard of. But what they didn’t know made Viatoris give a rough laugh. Veil-born Dementors, such as himself, could not be frightened with such paltry charms as a Patronus. The charmed bird sat in his hand, and he lifted his hand towards his shrouded face. Then, much as he had done with the man’s soul…he pulled.

The Patronus’ energy was drawn in through his mouth, like a refreshing mint. But the high-energy spell quickly made him just that. High.

The magic-saturated world that was the Dementor’s sight skewed dangerously, exacerbated by the fact that he was mid-air. Viatoris dropped a good ten feet suddenly, and would have thrown up had he a stomach to hold any kind of contents. As it were, he floated gently into the woods, where for the next ten minutes he held on to a tree, desperately trying not to fall off the earth as his body processed the charm’s energy.

~~

Lucius, Sirius, and Harry were behind Viktor and Aleksandr as they fought. They were flanked by two other vampires that engaged in battle when someone got too close, but generally they hadn’t met enough force to worry them. That changed when Aleksandr stopped suddenly, putting out his arm to stop Viktor and the rest of their party. The Gryffixes squawked angrily at the newcomer.

Afanasi stood in front of them, looking livid. His eyes gleamed deep, demonic red and his teeth were bared in fury.

“So…your balls finally dropped after three hundred years?” he asked, looking at his brother. Aleksandr’s eyes began to fade into the same deep red, and his fingernails elongated into claws.

“Leave, now.” He said to his son, and Viktor turned to the three behind him.

“Let us go.” He said. He walked away from his father, leaving him with the two vampires as witnesses.

“Malfoy!” Afanasi barked. Lucius turned to him, his steel-colored eyes hard. Afanasi grinned. “Your daughter has a pretty cunt.” He didn’t have time to process the angry shock on Lucius’ face as Aleksandr let out an angry howl, and then they were in hand-to-hand combat.

Sirius grabbed Lucius, pulling him along with them.

“Malfoy, don’t listen to him. He’s probably lying. Come on…we’ll get her…she’ll be fine.” Sirius tried to placate the blond. Lucius whirled on him, his wand pointing right at his face.

“She’s not fine. She can’t be fine. She’s been beaten and starved. What’s to say he hasn’t…hasn’t…” Lucius could not continue, but he clenched his jaw. “Don’t try to placate me with empty words, Black. I’m a grown man.” He added in a rough voice.

The flash of a spell blinded them, and Lucius cried out in pain as his distraction cost him. His wand fell from his hand, and he clapped his left hand to his ruined shoulder. They all looked up to see a wizard leaning over a banister, an insane grin on his face.

“What a motley group.” He said. Viktor snarled, but a vampiric shriek from further down the hall distracted him.

“You all do not need me any further. If we do not meet again in this world, enjoy your eternity.” He said, and took off towards the sound.

Lucius was glaring at the man on the stairs. “If it isn’t dear old Haine.” He growled. The wizard just kept grinning. “What are you up to, Haine?” Lucius asked, trying to ignore the fiery agony in his shoulder. The material of his robe had been burned away, and the flesh was scorched and weeping. His whole arm felt stiff and cumbersome, and it felt as if the bones themselves were slowly starting to heat up.

“I just had to deal with a little red-eyed problem…” Haine said. Sirius gasped.

“Where’s Tom? What have you done with him?” he asked desperately. Haine laughed.

“I let him live out his desires. He desired to be like Jesus…so I let him…even the bad part.” Haine said with a wink. Sirius felt his chest constrict painfully. He couldn’t breathe. Not that…Oh God in Heaven not that!

“I don’t understand…” Harry said softly. Lucius, whose face had paled from a mixture of shock and pain, looked at Harry.

“You know nothing of Christian Lore? Jesus was killed….crucified.” he spat. Harry’s eyes widened.

“You…monster! You would do that to a child….anyone!” Harry sputtered. Sirius gave a cry of righteous fury, and took off running for the stairs. Haine laughed aloud, and then began a languid ascent back up. Aslan followed Sirius, his orange eyes locked on target.

Lucius groaned in agony. The curse was doing something terrible to his arm. Oh Merlin…mercy on him!

“Potter…” Lucius managed to say. Harry looked at Lucius, and for the first time noticed how pasty and gray the man’s face looked. His shoulder was smoldering painfully. He shot forward and took him by the good arm just as Lucius would have fallen. “I don’t…I don’t know what he hit me with…but…but you have to go…go find…Grace.” Lucius gasped. “I’m useless. This was my wand arm….”

Harry swallowed hard. “Okay. You just stay here…I’ll have Nala guide me.” He said softly, helping Lucius into a small alcove created by the stairs. He lowered him to the floor, and whistled for Nala. The Gryffix stood in front of Lucius for a moment. He looked up, and caught her eyes, but did not really register what he was looking at. His mind was clouded with pain.

Nala let out a soft, whistling tune, and Lucius suddenly had the urge to sleep. Sweet, painless dark called to him, and he drifted gently into the arms of Morpheus on the notes of Nala’s song.

“That was kind, Nala. Now come. Let’s find your miss.” Harry said, and Nala chirped in reply. She held her head up, her beaked face turning this way and that as if trying to scent something. Apparently she sensed what she was looking for, because she took off down an adjacent hallway, with Harry close behind.

~~

Grace had no energy to break any part of the curse. Hermione had, at one point, taught her how to systematically break a body bind with her latent magic, but as weak and hungry as she was now she wouldn’t be able to break a feather in her hand.

And bound up as she was she couldn’t even fill her aching belly with water. Her tears had long dried up, mostly due to the fact that she had no more water to spare. She was frightened, she was cold, she was hungry…and so very alone.

She was about half-asleep when she heard the door handle jiggle. She began to tremble slightly, thinking it was Afanasi back to make good on his promise. She tried desperately to press her knees together, but only succeeded in making her muscles burn for naught.

She gave a soft gasp when a familiar, dark head of messy hair poked through the doorway.

“Harry!” she gasped. Harry looked over, but immediately shut his eyes and put a hand to his face.

“Grace!” he said, and pushed the door open.

“Harry, no!” Grace tried to warn Harry about the potion, but the door was already open. The bottle of potion shattered mid-air. The liquid solidified into a fine powder, and dumped glowing pink contents on Harry and, unfortunately, Nala, who had been standing by his side as the door opened.

Harry pulled his hand back and gasped, then began to choke on the potion’s powder. Grace watched in horror, thinking it would kill him in front of her. Harry stood straight, waving leftover powder out of his face and shaking it off of his body.

“Gods! That tasted like bubblegum and arse!” he sputtered, and opened his eyes. He paused when he caught sight of Grace again. Grace was mesmerized as his pupils widened impossibly, until there was only a small strip of green left in his eyes.

“Grace…you look….amazing tonight…” he said, his voice dropping in timbre. Her eyes widened, and her struggling began anew. Not that…not that….She didn’t want that and she knew Harry would never forgive himself.

The potion was made specifically for humans, and as such had a negative effect on Nala. She staggered drunkenly forward, before laying down on the floor and crawling towards the corner, where she immediately threw up the remains of her breakfast.

“Nala!” Grace called, but the Gryffix winced, and gave a tuneless, frightened whistle.

Harry approached the bed languidly, looking Grace up and down in a way that was not gentlemanly.

“What a delectable pose. Is this for me?” he asked, tilting his head to take in a good sight of her snatch.

“No, Harry…please no….don’t do this…I know you’ll regret it…” Grace begged. Harry merely gave her a calm, lopsided smile.

“It’s all right, love. I know you’re nervous. But I’ll be incredibly tender.” He said, caressing her knee.

“No….no please…” she chanted. She shut her eyes tight when she heard the jingle of Harry’s belt. “Nala….” She tried again, but was dismayed to hear another heave from her familiar, and the splat of another bit of sick.

“Shh…” Harry was leaning over her, touching her face and brushing her hair out of her eyes. His hands were warm and soft, and Grace finally relaxed under the gentle ministrations, closing her eyes. At least if she were going to have someone force themselves on her…it would be gently. How ironic.

He slid himself inside gently, but still Grace whimpered at the foreign feel of him. Harry seated himself completely, and made a noise of wonder.

“I met no resistance. Who took your virginity from you?” he asked softly. Her eyes screwed shut even tighter.

“I s-suppose….if y-you’re tech-technical about it….N-Neil drew bl-blood on me t-twice…” She replied in a whisper, feeling a bit nauseous.

“I’ll kill him for you.” Harry said in the same soft, gentle voice as he began to move inside her. He was big, and she was stretched fully, but there was none of the same searing agony she’d experience….before.

Harry’s hands were everywhere, gently rubbing and massaging her. She had to admit she might have even enjoyed it had she wanted this sort of attention. As it were, any kind of reciprocation she might have felt was ruined by her predicament, and the sheer agony her body was in.

It was over much quicker than Grace expected. Harry’s body was fueled by the Potion and a lack of stamina in this department. He stiffened up and came with a satisfied groan, his hips jerking spasmodically as he filled her with warm cum. The sensation was new and unfamiliar to Grace.

Harry pulled out with a sigh, reaching down to pull up his trousers. He tucked himself away, gazing at her curiously as she was still stuck in position.

“Why are you stuck…” but he started to trail off, the potion working itself out of his system. Grace watched as his pupils began to shrink, until they were back to normal. Harry swallowed hard, and looked at Grace’s face.

“That was a hell of a potion.” Grace said softly. Harry looked very sick suddenly, and only just managed to turn his head before he heaved violently.

“Oh god…oh god no….” he sobbed.

“Please, Harry…we can deal with this later….help me…” she begged. Harry, still sobbing, turned his head away as he unfastened his outer robes.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He choked, covering her with the thick material. She sighed at the warmth of the material, warmer still from his body.

“Please, Harry. Mope later…I’m…stuck here. Break this bind for me.” She said, her voice soft yet firm. Harry didn’t really think. He waved his hand over her, and she felt as the Bind broke. She stretched out her legs, wincing at the cramping in her muscles. She pushed herself off of the bed and stumbled right into Harry, who was still crying. Grace, her emotions shot, punched him as hard as she could in the arm.

“For the love of god…stop sniveling! Between the two of us I have more right than you to cry! You fucking pick me up right now and carry me the hell out of the god-damned dungeon or I swear I will have Nala rip your fucking guts out!” she snapped. Harry looked at her in surprise.

“How the hell are you so calm in the face of…this?” he asked. She was clinging to him now to keep from falling on weak legs. And yet she found the strength to glare at him.

“I’m in fucking shock right now. I’m hungry, and cold…and I want to go home. I have no more tears right now. Maybe in a few days I’ll bawl my fucking eyes out, but right now I need a fucking knight. I don’t care how fucking tarnished your armor is…you pick me the fuck up and get me out of here!” she shrieked. Harry blinked in response, but then leaned forward, picking her up bridal style in his arms. She adjusted his robes around her, making sure everything was covered, and then pointed at Nala.

“Levitate her over here.” She said. Harry twitched his head, and the Gryffix was lifted gingerly into the air. She landed on Grace’s stomach, and Grace held onto the sick animal as Harry carried her out. Grace leaned her head against Harry’s chest. “I want this day to end quickly.” She murmured, exhaustion finally overtaking her.

“For what it’s worth…I’m sorry.” Harry said again. She looked up, and gave a weak smile.

“If I could have hand-picked anyone in this house to have to do that to me…it would have been you…if only for the fact I know you wouldn’t have hurt me.” She whispered. Harry shook his head, his eyes burning again.

“That’s damned morbid….”

~~

Tom had managed to bring his sobbing under control. The heaving sobs before did more harm than good, because they shook his whole body and made everything hurt so much worse. If he could control his breathing and concentrate on anything else, he could lessen the pain, if only marginally.

The best thing he found so far was singing softly to himself and to Alphard as the serpent guarded him. At present he was singing a soft song he had heard at Church. The first verse he sang softly, trying to distance himself from the pain.

The second he sang a little louder, having a much greater understanding for it. By the third verse he was losing his distraction, and he desperately sung the fourth verse to attempt to separate the burning, agonizing pain in his hands and his feet.

“No guilt in life, no fear in death, this is the power of Christ in me;

From life's first cry to final breath. Jesus commands my destiny.

No power of hell, no scheme of man, Can ever pluck me from His hand;

Till He returns or calls me home, Here in the power of Christ I'll stand.”

He opened his eyes; his vision blurred from pain and blood loss, and saw a figure sitting next to him. He was frightened, but dare not move away. A warm hand pushed the hair out of his face, and Tom tried to make his vision be still long enough to make out the person’s face. The only thing he could concentrate on was piercing blue eyes, the color of the summer sky.

Rest, my son, and do not fear. You are not alone. You never were.

Darkness began to bloom at the edges of his sight, and he fought it, still trying to figure out who this stranger was. He heard a soft laugh, and felt the hand on his face again. As the hand drew back, Tom turned his head slightly, and saw a red scar the size of a penny in the palm of his company, before he could not fight the darkness anymore, and fell into merciful unconsciousness.

~~

Aslan bounded through the hallway after Haine, Sirius right behind him. The man kept taking twists and turns, but they were able to keep up with him.

They finally cornered him against a large window that overlooked the grounds.

“You bastard!” Sirius snapped, his wand out. Haine snarled, holding tightly to his own wand. “What are you even doing with these creatures?” he hissed.

“I found kinship with Afanasi. He took me in after the Dark Lord fell, and promised me revenge. After a few years, we found the next best thing. Another chance…or so I thought.” Haine said with a frown. Sirius’ eyes blazed, and he raised his wand.

The two began to duel, sending flashing, deadly curses at each other. Several panes of the window were shattered, leaving the frame looking skeletal and bare. Haine laughed harshly.

“What’s so funny?” Sirius asked, deflecting a curse. Aslan had taken cover to the side, and was waiting for an opportunity to attack.

“I was just remembering the look on the boy’s face when I drove the spikes into his hands.” Haine laughed. Sirius was taken aback by the gruesome statement.

“You’re a monster. You will burn in Hell for what you’ve done.” Sirius said vehemently.

A dark shadow suddenly rose up behind Haine, but Sirius made no movement to alert the man. The shadow glided up above his head, and spread out bony, rotting arms to finally cast a visible shadow in the light of the afternoon sun. Haine paused, a sudden chill dropping the temperature of the air so drastically that their breaths hung in moist puffs.

Haine turned slowly, looking up into the cloaked hood of a tall Dementor. Viatoris’ bony hand shot out, grasping the man by the throat and lifting him off of the ground.

“Give him a Kiss from your dad, Viatoris!” Sirius cheered. He had never been so for the Dementor’s Kiss as he was at this moment.

Viatoris lowered his head, and Haine began to scream and beg.

“Stop it, son.”

The booming voice drew their attention, and Viatoris looked up to see Death standing at the window, looking every bit of his role. His armor wasn’t its usual silver, but was a deep, unforgiving black. He was swathed from head to toe in black, and a black sword was hanging at his side.

“Father…” Viatoris said.

“Drop him. I got special permission from the Creator to deal with this one.” He growled. Viatoris would have grinned if he had lips, and he dropped the wizard to the ground in front of his father. Haine looked up into the face of Death, and began to beg again.

“Please…I’m sorry…I want another chance…I’ll change.” He whimpered. Death’s expression did not change.

“You have been judged accordingly: For your crimes here on Earth you will suffer the pain of death, and eternal separation from God. You will dwell with the devil and his angels forever.” He said. Sirius couldn’t help but shudder at the judgement.

Death reached down and dragged Haine to his feet. He readjusted his wrist guards, and snarled angrily.

“This one’s from the Father!” he snapped, and backhanded Haine across the face, shattering his jaw painfully. “This one’s from the Son!” he continued, and a booted foot came out to kick the wizard in the side, breaking every rib on his right side and puncturing his lung. Haine rolled to his stomach, trying to crawl away. “And this one’s from the Holy Ghost!” he finished, and his foot came down on the base of Haine’s spine, splintering the bone under the force. “Oh, but this one…” he added, reaching down to pick the blubbering wizard up by his lapel. “This one’s from me.” He added, before a black void opened up beneath him, and he and the wizard disappeared into it, leaving only a burst of inhuman heat and the faint smell of sulphur behind.

Sirius staggered tiredly, but a crimson blur butted his leg insistently.

“Come on, Viatoris. Let’s find Tom.” He said.

“This way.” Viatoris said, and began flying back a few hallways. They seemed to take a maze to where they were going, until Viatoris led them to a door that was covered in runes. The wood exuded an unnatural power. Viatoris reached forward and grasped the door, using a bit of Dementor magic and sheer brute force to shove it forward off of its hinges.

Sirius spotted Tom lying spiked to the floor, his blood pooling out around his hands and feet. He rushed to his side, falling to his knees and taking Tom’s face in his hands.

“Tom…Tom, son…can you hear me?” he asked, tears falling from his face.

He heard a squawk of surprise, and Viatoris’ curse.

“Sirius Black.”

Sirius looked up, and saw Death’s concerned face.

“No! No, you can’t have him. Don’t take him from me!” Sirius begged, holding out his arms to shield Tom’s body. Death swallowed hard.

“I’m not here for him.” He said softly. He nodded his head down, and Sirius lowered his gaze. There, on his arm, was a bleeding bite mark. And burrowing under Tom’s shirt was a poison green serpent.

The venom kicked in very suddenly, and the world went fuzzy. His veins were on fire, and he lost his grip on Tom, falling backwards.

“Father…please…do not take him.” Viatoris pleaded softly, fluttering a bit closer.

“I cannot interfere, here.” Death said.

Aslan came forward suddenly, and squawked at Death. Sirius’ breaths were already coming in short, labored puffs. The venom was working quickly. Death nodded at the Gryffix. Aslan approached his Master, mewling softly at him. Sirius’ lidded eyes rested on the animal, and he reached up to stroke the furry head, paying special attention to his tufted ears. He saw tears well up in the large orange eyes.

“Don’t…mourn…me…” Sirius gasped. “Take care…of…Tom.” But Aslan lowered his head to the small, deadly wound. Several pearly tears dripped onto the bite, and it began to close immediately.

Sirius felt the battle going on inside his body. This juvenile Gryffix’s tears weren’t as potent as they would be in a grown adult, and so there was now an internal battle over who was stronger: the juvenile healing powers of his familiar, or the juvenile venom of the basilisk.

Sirius groaned in pain, and blacked out suddenly. But Death looked relieved.

“You all are going to be the me of me.” He said. Viatoris shook his cloaked head.

“That was a terrible pun.” He said softly. But his father disappeared, and he was left with the others. He floated forward to the still body of Tom, landing on his feet and then kneeling over the boy. He took hold of one of the spikes, bracing himself and pulling hard. The spike gave way, and slid with a groan from the floor. Viatoris repeated this, freeing Tom from the painful bindings.

“I better get something good out of this.” He grumbled, before leaning down and picking Sirius up. He positioned him Fireman style over his shoulder, before he gathered Tom in the crook of his long arm. “Oh man…Sirius needs to eat far fewer waffles for breakfast...” He mumbled, before lifting off from the ground a few inches and floating away. Aslan followed behind them, flicking his tail nervously at the sight of his limp master.

~~

Most of the fighting was done now. Aleksandr’s forces had dominated Afanasi’s, but the result of the fight came down to the two brothers. They were both tiring, but still fighting ferociously.

Aleksandr’s clans people were gathering the wounded outside, which included his last minute additions. Lucius was being treated by a Halfling who had been St. Mungos trained, while Grace was being warmed up and fed a nutrient-potion laced broth. Tom was awake now, and was resting at Sirius’ side as his father’s body was still battling in itself between the Tears and the Venom. But he was rapidly improving, so there was hope.

Harry was sitting far away from the group, watching as the two brothers battled. Aslan was with Sirius, and Nala kept moving between Harry and Grace. She was now feeling better, and she didn’t seem to blame Harry at all for what had happened in the dungeon, which made Harry feel even guiltier.

Viatoris was back in the trees, still not fond of the vampires.

There was suddenly a shout from the people watching the brothers battle. All eyes were on them as Aleksandr had managed to get behind his brother, jerking the other’s arm back so hard that it snapped. Afanasi screamed in a way only a vampire could, before the sound intensified as Aleksandr repeated the action with the other arm.

He kicked his brother to the ground, snarling victoriously. “You have lost, brother! You usurped my power and then you lost it! As the reclaimed head of the Torrin clan I sentence you to a traitor’s death!” he bellowed. Afanasi couldn’t get his feet under him, and his arms were now useless to hold himself up.

Viktor appeared from the crowd, holding something in his hand. He placed it on the ground, and waved his wand. A perfect wooden burning stake appeared, ready for its sacrifice. Afanasi’s look of fear was visible from many angles. Viktor jerked his uncle to his feet, and held tight as he tried to flee. Viktor marched him up the pile of wood beneath the stake, and bound him to the post with a metal chain.

Afanasi struggled painfully against his bindings, and Viktor left his uncle on the altar.

Aleksandr took hold of his son’s wand hand, and the two aimed the wand at the wood. A simple incendio was cast, lighting the wood slowly.

Harry closed his eyes, but that didn’t block out the screams that started right after. They were horrible, and seemed to go on forever. As the fire grew, so did the intensity of Afanasi’s screams. It takes a normal human about five minutes in a fire for the nerve endings to finally be burnt to the point of not feeling anything. If smoke inhalation does not kill them, it’s a very painful five minutes.

The vampire burned for over twenty minutes before his body finally shut down, since he didn’t truly breathe and could not be strangled by smoke. Aleksandr stood in front of the burning altar stoically, but anyone close enough could see the glitter of tears on his face. He knew his brother was dangerous, but that didn’t change the fact that it had been his brother.

When the screaming finally stopped, Aleksandr stepped away and faced the crowd.

“It is finished! My brother is dead, and the Torrin clan is under my control again. If you wish to submit to the main clan again, we will be sending emissaries to your clans very soon. You may reconnect if you wish, but I will not require it of you.” He said.

The siege was over.

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0_0 Oh sweet wizard God...and the regular one....who gets a shout out in this chapter. -_-

Also, the song Tom was singing: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLy8ksqGf9w
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Amazing Grace