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The Last Gift	By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 9747 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The further they got from Voldemort, the better Harry felt.� Towards the end of the passage he was able to
walk on his own, though he wore a grimace on his face and blood had trickled
between his brows and down his nose, dripping off like a bead of sweat. �Hermione began to worry.� Voldemort was very,
very angry.� Someone would suffer for it.

She cast a glance back at Lucius.� He walked
behind them so quietly that one might have been able to forget he was
there.� He was thinking about something
and didn�t notice her perusal.

In many ways, he didn�t look
like himself.� His hair was tied back
with an inexactness that didn�t meld with his usual unruffled appearance, but
nonetheless looked fine on him.� His grey
sweater was too large and had holes in it.�
She could see the white undershirt in a few places.� His trousers were black and
unremarkable.� She wished she could look
half as good in clothing that was obviously past its prime.

He was unusually pale,
though.� It hadn�t just been a trick of
the light.� Truly, he looked like a Greek
statue, all smooth marble and painted eyes.�
Only the pink undercurrent in his lips and cheeks gave him away as a
living being.

His eyes flickered up and he
caught her staring.� Hermione dared to
meet his glance, but only for a moment; there was too much that she desperately
wanted to say and couldn�t in the presence of her two best friends.� She loved Harry and Ron, but as soon as they
were back she was going to try to corner Lucius.� It scared the hell out of her to think of
where the conversation might go � what could they possibly say? � but she would explode if she didn�t try.

Now they were beneath the Whomping Willow; its roots twined all around them, forming
the walls of the passage.� Lucius observed it with some interest.� Until now, he hadn�t been aware of this
particular passage.� It was useful, but
he wasn�t sure he liked the idea of having to walk back up to the castle
completely exposed.

As if reading his thoughts,
Harry stopped and extracted the Invisibility Cloak.� He made to wrap it around the three of them
and then recalled that they had a fourth � a fully grown man who was easily six
foot two.� Though, Ron was rapidly
approaching that and he still fit�Harry looked back at Lucius,
at a loss.� The three of them were a crowd
under the cloak, but he was no more comfortable with their fourth member
walking around in the open than Lucius was.

�I guess one of us can come
back�?�

He shook his head.� �If I didn�t know how to make myself
invisible by now, Potter, I would be dead.�

�Um�right,� Harry nodded.� There was still a tangible awkwardness
between the younger men and their older escort.�

�Speaking of�� Ron began,
risking the question that was on all their minds, �how aren�t you dead?�

�It is a long story,� was Lucius�s response.

�You could be an Inferi,� Ron asserted, his eyes narrowing slightly.� �You�re awfully pale.�

Glacial blue eyes narrowed in
return.� �Have you ever seen an Inferi?� Or smelled
one, for that matter?� I would not like
to explain physiology to you, Mr. Weasley, but
suffice to say one may find oneself a bit wan after losing most of their
blood.�

�So are you a vampire or
something?�

Hermione could tell that Lucius was biting the inside of his lips in annoyance.� His quicksilver eyes turned on her a second later,
full of exasperation.

�Did you tell them
nothing?�� At her stricken look, his
expression softened.� �I suppose
not.�� He reached for the long, frayed
hem of the sweater and tugged it up, catching the undershirt on the way.

�Holy shite!� Ron exclaimed.

Hermione felt much the
same.� She hadn�t seen the full extent of
his wounds in the alleyway.� Now she
could.� Even half-healed, the scars were
wicked and swollen, raised in pink ropes across his torso.� Bruises persisted around them, caught between
purple-black and yellow.

�And that is after Severus�s
intervention,� Lucius said, noting their looks of
horror.� �It took him three days to get
them all to stay closed.� Suffice to say,
it was unpleasant.�

�He rescued you, then,� Harry
said.

�Yes.�

�Whose side is he on?� he asked
bluntly.

�Yours,� Lucius
replied, just as bluntly.� Then, with an
odd look on his face, he said, �Ours.��

�How?� Harry
demanded.� �How could he be after what he
did to Dumbledore?�

�That is also a long story.�

�I�m going to need to hear it,�
Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.

�Is what he just did not enough
proof?� Lucius shot back.� �He isn�t staying back there for his own
well-being.� That much should be
obvious.�

�Nothing is obvious to me right now, Malfoy.�

�Then I will make it crystal
clear.� He was in love with your
mother.� Still is.� And even though you look so much like your
twat of a father that it kills him, he will do anything to keep you safe and
alive because you are part of her.�

A stunned silence met his declarations.� Hermione exchanged a startled glance with
Ron.� Harry�s mouth was hanging
open.� Irritable, but apparently
satisfied, Lucius walked past them.� He performed a spell on himself and
disappeared from view.

Harry was certain that their
reappearance was going to give several people apoplexy.� No one had known he and Hermione were making
an attempt to rescue Ron, so they would face certain shock when they strolled
in with him.� They had also found a man
who was supposed to be dead � a man who had certainly made a turn for the
better, but whose presence would bother some people nonetheless.

Lucius�s
irritation had flagged and he had waited for them, however invisible, on the
path.� He walked just ahead of them
now.� He blended in with his surroundings
seamlessly, like a muggle actor on a green screen;
they could only pinpoint where he was by his footsteps.� They were completely silent, but left light
indentations in the spring grass.� They
couldn�t see his posture and he hadn�t spoken, but Harry would bet he had his
wand raised and ready for any attack.

It was very, very strange to be
in the protection of Lucius Malfoy,
indeed.

For his part, Lucius was internally conflicted.� He shouldn�t have told them about Snape�s undying love for Lily.� That was Severus�s
cross to bear.� He should have told them
the facts.� But every time he thought
about it, a terrible clenching pain began in his chest.� He just couldn�t.� He couldn�t speak his son�s name, he couldn�t
explain what he had been forced into because of his sire�s recklessness, and
therefore he couldn�t explain the Unbreakable Vow and Dumbledore�s knowledge of
his impending death.� It was too soon and
he didn�t trust himself not to break down or go mad.

So he told them what would tide
them over for the moment.� They would
grapple with the fact that Severus, so prickly and
cold, could love anyone, let alone Potter�s pretty mother.� Perhaps they would grapple more with the fact
that until young prejudice and a loose mouth had got the better of him, Lily
had been reasonably affectionate to Severus in
return.�

Lucius had
noticed his younger friend�s attraction to the redhead but had known nothing
would ever come of it.� They were too
different.� Inevitably, their
differences, both internal and external, would drive them apart.� The fact that James Potter set his radar on
Lily also strongly tilted the balance out of Severus�s
favor.

And that was what happened.� Lucius could at
least be glad that he had no part in their disintegration; he had left things
to take their course, neither encouraging nor discouraging his friend.� He had graduated from Hogwarts by the time
the falling-out occurred, anyhow.

He sighed.� The castle loomed ahead.

As they prepared to enter the
Great Hall for the big reveal, Hermione felt Lucius�s
fingers on her back.� She stopped,
letting Harry and Ron go on ahead of her.�
They didn�t notice the Invisibility Cloak slipping of her and trailing
on the floor behind them.

�Let us talk,� Lucius said quietly.

She nodded, glad that she didn�t
have to ask.� He ended his concealing
spell and looked around.� After a
moment�s contemplation, he gestured politely to a door down the hall.� It was a cloak room of sorts; guests and
visitors could use it to stash whatever they needed.

He shut the door behind them and
warded it.� It wasn�t a large room, but
it wasn�t a closet, either.� They didn�t
have to be on top of one another, yet Hermione found that she was loath to
cross to the other side of the space.�
She was nervous and terrified � and at the same time, comforted.

He turned and leaned against the
door, closing his eyes briefly.� Then he
opened them with a sigh and gazed at her.

�You were dead,� Hermione
whispered.� Through the storm of
questions howling in her head, that was the first
thing to be voiced coherently.� �I saw
you die.�

�Yes.� You did.�

�Then you were dead.�

�I was, at least physically, for
about eight minutes.�

It seemed like an absurd
statement.� �What other way is there to
be dead?� she demanded, feeling hysteria push against the outer reaches of her
mind.

His lips twitched.� �There are many other ways, witch.�

She looked up at the tone in his
voice.� His eyes bore that same intense
agony as they had when he straddled her in the alleyway.� She took a step backwards.� She didn�t want a repeat of that encounter;
she still hadn�t been able to process the first one.

�Then how�?�

He took a step forward, negating
her retreat, and leaned against the small table that was there for an attendant
that seldom graced it.

�I am sorry�Hermione.�� She didn�t miss the hesitation, but she also
didn�t miss the way he had made sure to say her name.� It was more than he had ever done to
acknowledge her right to existence.� He
went on.� �I know I said something about
creating a Horcrux of my own.� Do you remember?�

She remembered.� He had said that he should kill her to make a
Horcrux, so that he could live and destroy the Dark
Lord.� But she was still here�hesitantly,
Hermione nodded.

�I did it.�� He looked down at his hands.� �More accurately, we did it.�

Her cheeks colored at the double
entendre.� �But�don�t you have to�kill
someone?�� She had killed that night, but it was after Lucius
had given her his magic and his grim, conscienceless determination.� Her soul was intact�wasn�t it?

�There is another way,� he sighed.� �It is just as illegal.� Have you ever heard the story of Lawton
Cleary?�

Hermione frowned, digging
through her memory.� The name seemed
vaguely familiar.� �He was a general in
the goblin rebellions of the 1600s, I think.�
Didn�t he die in battle?�

�Yes and no.�� Lucius stepped
around the table and then sat on it.�
�What very few people know is that Cleary invented what is essentially a
more benign method of soul division and transference.�

�How do you know that?� she asked.

�A relative of mine was a dear
friend of his, and my relatives have always been very keen on journals and
diaries.� A form of nar-
self-absorption, I suppose.�

Lucius was
spared from a scathing retort because Hermione noticed how he�d been unable to
say �narcissism� � it was too close to his late wife�s name.� She let it pass.� �So�what was this method?�

�It utilized sex magic to
transfer just enough of the soul to one�s partner to guarantee
immortality.� It isn�t all that different
from a traditional magical bonding ceremony.�

�You mean to say that we�re�?�

�No, we�re not bonded.�� Lucius
frowned.� �Not all of Cleary�s soldiers
were married so it had to be something that would work with any willing
partner.� He reasoned that if they just
performed the necessary spells during their farewell encounters, he would have
an army of men who couldn�t die.� And
better yet, the wives and lovers of his soldiers couldn�t die while their men
weren�t there to protect them.�

Hermione�s eyes widened.� �It goes both ways?�

�Yes.� You�re immortal, as well, for the time
being.�

He said it so
matter-of-factly!� Hermione blinked,
unsure that she had heard correctly.� The
expression on his face said that she had.�
Oh.

She felt faint.� She needed to sit down.� The cloak room began to spin; a moment later
she felt Lucius�s hands on her.� They were cold.� He graciously moved her to the table and sat
her down.� He held onto her wrists,
probably worried that she would pass out and hit her head.

It took several minutes and many
deep breaths for Hermione to regain her composure.� Or some semblance of it, anyhow; she was immortal.� She was going to live forever.� Merlin, she didn�t want to.� She had never wanted to.� But he had said �for the time being��maybe it
was reversible.

�So what happened to Cleary?�
she questioned, knowing that clarity would come with the rest of the story.

�Well, he performed the spells
and the routine with his wife to test it out.�
They saw that it worked.� Cleary
was going to introduce the idea to his soldiers at the next opportunity they had
to return home to their families.�
However, what Cleary didn�t know was that his wife had a lover.� She wanted to run away with him.� So, while Cleary was preparing to ride into
battle, she had her lover purposely kill her.�

�Destroying his Horcrux?�

�Exactly.� And dear old Cleary thought he was immortal,
so he marched into battle like he was.�
He survived the first killing curse, but not the second.�

Hermione shook her head.� �And his wife was mortal again and got to run
off with her lover.� Was she ever
caught?�

�Never.�� He tilted his head slightly.� �On her deathbed, she confessed and passed on
the spells.� The healers documented it.� It was a tremendous scandal until the
Ministry deemed it too dangerous and outlawed the spells.� They also destroyed all records of it.� Only one other exists besides the one in my
ancestor�s diary.� Neither person was
foolish enough to reveal that they still knew it.�� Lucius sighed.� �I was looking for ways out.� Then I noticed that the diary was placed in
the more� questionable section of the library, almost hidden, and I wanted to
know why��

�Smart,� she said.� �And fortunate.�� She looked up at him, terribly curious.� �I�ve felt�like there�s a piece of you in my
head,� she managed.� �Is it the same for
you?�

He nodded and offered a wry
smile.� �I�m sure it�s a vast
improvement.�

She smiled weakly.

�Perhaps it�s a vast debility
for you,� he said softly.

�No.� I�m just�not used to it.�

�Nor am
I.� I find that I have
this�insatiable urge to save
things.�� His lip curled slightly as he
said it.

Hermione had to laugh.� He looked so damned funny with that
half-sneer of disdain on his face.� He
didn�t join her, but he did raise an eyebrow.�
The expression told her that he didn�t mind being laughed at.�

As her mirth passed, she
suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was still holding on to her
wrists.� The smile faded from her face as
a wave of awareness flooded her, pulsing out from the place where their skin
met and flowing to every part of her.�
Goosebumps rose along her arms.�
She looked up at him.

�Why do I feel this way?� she
whispered.

He let go, which was the exact
opposite of what she wanted.� This time
it was Lucius that took a step back.� She could see how wide his pupils were in
their blue frames.

�It�s�Cleary wanted it to be
reversible.� He made it so that the
pieces of each person�s soul transfer back the next time they�make love.� To make sure it would happen, the soul isn�t
severed completely.� You�ll yearn for it,
and vice versa, until you give in.�

�So it can be undone?� she
asked.

�Yes.�� He chuckled, seeming curiously sad.� �We�ll either have to kill each other or have
sex again.� I�m not really sure which is
more desirable to you.�

Hermione slid down from the
desk, stepping closer to him even though she knew she ought to step away.� �I�m not sure, either.�� She should really avoid looking into his
eyes.� Every time she did, it was like she
was touching a portkey; there was a tug in her belly
and an entirely foreign desire began to play along her skin. �From what he said, it was the call of that
piece of her soul.� If that was true he
must feel it, too.

�We shouldn�t be alone
together.�

�You think we can�t resist?�

�If my insane urge to kiss you
is any indication,� he said, his voice low, �no.�

�We should go to the Great Hall,
then.�� Intellectually, she knew it, but
her body was only moving closer to his.

�Yes.� Get out of this�� his hands reached for her,
�closet��

She was tugged flush against him
and his lips descended, covering hers sensually.� Kissing him was absolute euphoria.� Her mind melted and before she knew what she
was doing, she pushed up on her tiptoes and sought his tongue.

He parted his lips and met
her.� The desire was dizzying.� She wanted to tear his clothes off.� She wanted to ride him until his back was
full of bruised squares and they screamed their completion to the rafters.

�We�shouldn�t�� he groaned, even
as his hands cupped her backside and pressed her against his awakening body.� �Not yet.�

�I know!� she gasped.� His mouth had begun to trail down her
neck.� Her nipples were taut against her
shirt and need throbbed hotly between her thighs.� �I don�t think I can stop��

It was at that moment that
Peeves drifted through the wall and dropped a box of mothballs on them.� In spite of the fact that he had one hand up
her shirt, Lucius was very genteel and used the other
one to block her head.� Thus, he took the
brunt of the assault.

�Make love, not war!� Peeves
jeered, and then soared up toward the ceiling.�
His cackle echoed in the small, cavernous space.� When he departed, they were left in awkward,
arousal-soused silence.� But fortunately,
the shock of the interruption had returned their faculties.

�The mothballs are a little late
for this sweater,� Lucius grumbled.� Gently, he extracted himself from her.

�I�m not sure if I love him or
hate him,� Hermione sighed.� Her entire
body throbbed and she knew she couldn�t satisfy it � not just yet.

�It�s for the best.� We have a war to fight and immortality will
certainly help.��

She nodded.� �So�we avoid one another?�

�If it�s
possible, yes.�

�What are you going to tell
people?�

�That Severus
rescued me.� Which he did; I just
happened to have bled out beforehand - trifling detail.�

In spite of herself, she
smiled.� With one last aching look, Hermione
forced herself to turn and walk out of the cloak room.
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The Last Gift