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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.

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Lyra had been a part of the Order for a full week now. Her days had settled into a comfortable routine of completing her work at the Ministry before Flooing home and Apparating from there to Grimmauld Place for dinner, after which she reported anything she had learned and listened to the varied reports of the other members. The monotony was punctuated by sharp twists of desire every time she saw Sirius – and being that he was not allowed to leave the confines of the house, those encounters came far too often for her comfort.

When Kingsley Shacklebolt had asked for someone to cover him on guard duty at the Department of Mysteries so that he could work overtime as an Auror, Lyra had leapt at the opportunity. It had meant sacrificing a rare day off, but it was a day that she would otherwise have spent at Grimmauld Place helping with the mass cleaning; it was not the cleaning she objected to, merely the fact that it would have meant time spent at such close quarters with Sirius.

Instead, she had spent a peaceful day maintaining a silent and invisible presence at the entrance to the department where the prophecies were filed away. Dumbledore had explained the significance of what it was they guarded – and though they doubted that Voldemort himself would risk coming to the Ministry to try to take it, they simply had to be aware of any interest that he or his Death Eaters showed in it.

Lyra’s watch had been undisturbed. She saw nobody until the effervescent Nymphadora Tonks came bounding down the corridor to relieve her. After filling her in on the day’s meeting at headquarters, Tonks took the invisibility cloak that Lyra had been wearing and settled down to take the night’s watch as Lyra wandered away through the corridors, cautiously glancing from side to side for fear she would be seen.

No-one troubled her. She exhaled and relaxed as she reached the uppermost levels that would take her back to the main part of the Ministry, for her presence there would not be remarked upon. But when she made to turn the last corner, a hand closed possessively around her wrist.

Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up into the pale face of a wizard she knew only by sight, though many of the Order’s reports had cause to mention him. Lucius Malfoy’s cold grey eyes reflected the dim candlelight that illuminated the corridor, a distinct spark of triumph in their impenetrable depths as he stared down at her unblinkingly. “Well, what have we here?” he drawled softly.

Lyra instinctively reached for her wand, but his other hand shot out to capture hers before her fingers could grip it. She cursed, and his face relaxed into a humourless smile that only increased the strength of the fear that had erupted inside her.

“Such foul words from such a beautiful mouth, Miss Menadue! I think we shall have to occupy it in a far more profitable manner – but first I would very much like to know what you are doing down here. A mere secretary in the Wizengamot has no business here, I think.”

Alarmed both that he knew so much about her and by the barely disguised implication of his words, she fought to pull her hands away from his. Lucius only tightened his grasp on her as she scowled up at him. “I could ask the same question of you, sir. I could also ask what in Circe’s name you think you’re doing!”

“Precisely what I want to do, pet, as always.” He tilted his head to the side as his eyes narrowed. “So, the Order have claimed you to work with them, lovely Lyra.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Malfoy,” she said instantly, though she knew the rush of blood to her skin and her quickened pulse must undoubtedly betray her.

With a soft snort of disdain, he backed her up against the wall. “Liar,” he breathed. “You know precisely what I am talking about. Your presence here confirms all the suspicions I had when I saw you with Dumbledore last week.”

Lyra’s eyes widened as she tried and failed once more to break free of his hold. “Last week?”

“It was me following you last week, Lyra – as I have been doing for a long while.”

She stammered wordlessly, infuriated and afraid in the same moment. Lucius’s fingers were stroking the backs of her hands, making his intent all too plain; but when he lowered his head towards her, she found her voice once more. “Get your filthy hands off me, Malfoy!” she hissed.

“Why would I do that when I have been dreaming of touching you for the past year?”

“That’s why you were following me?” Lyra twisted desperately in a fresh effort to break free of him as his eyes grew dark with lust, but all she won was a hoarse groan from the wizard restraining her so completely. Though he seemed to have left the dangerous topic of the Order behind, the new direction his thoughts were taking was just as troubling. The need to flee from him was spiralling, but no matter how hard she fought he would not let go of her.

“Yes,” Lucius finally said, seemingly impervious to all her struggles. His long hair fell forwards to brush against her face. “I have been seeking the opportunity to get you alone again for so very long now. I thought last week would finally be it, but then the old fool appeared to whisk you away from me. No matter, though, for I have you now.”

Much to her consternation, he did. The twisting corridors seemed to be abandoned. Unable to reach for her wand, she could see no escape.

“Can I confess two more things to you before we move onto what I have planned for you, my lovely?” Still keeping her arms pinned against the wall, Lucius leaned in closer to whisper into her ear. The sensation of his warm breath against her bare skin sent a violent shiver running down the length of her spine, but it was nothing compared to his next words. “The Death Eater who captured and kissed you at the World Cup, Lyra? That was also me.”

Her heart lost a beat in terror as an unwelcome twist of heat stole through her body. The memory of it had been haunting her this past year, but until now she had had no idea as to the identity of the Death Eater she had done battle with amongst the chaos of the World Cup. He had backed her into the solitude of the surrounding woods and disarmed her before snatching her into his arms and laying forceful and passionate claim to her lips.

She had continued to struggle against him, but amidst the terror that had broken out none had come to her rescue and he did not release her, maintaining the kiss until, to her distress, her body began to respond to the assault of his. Only the appearance of the Dark Mark overhead had spared her from all she knew he had intended to do to her. The Death Eater had broken away with a snarled, furious curse before fleeing into the trees – away from the Dark Mark, and away from her.

Lyra did not doubt now that it had been Malfoy who she had fought. The dark hunger in his eyes spoke of the memory that she could not rid herself of; and when she breathed in sharply, a hint of musk wove around her senses that was precisely the same as that which she remembered from the forbidden intimacy of that night.

“Ah!” he said softly, whetting his lips as she shivered. “I see that the memory of that glorious kiss we shared is as strong and compelling for you as it is for me, Lyra. It frustrates me deeply that we could not take it to its conclusion, but perhaps if you wish me to keep your involvement with the Order to myself we could rectify that tonight.”

She swallowed hard and lifted her head to stare at him defiantly, willing herself to show none of the desperate unease his words and the memory of the forced kiss had caused her. “I don’t think so, Malfoy. I don’t need your protection – or anything else from you. Do you want to make your second confession before I shout for the Enforcement Patrol?”

Triumph burned ever more ferociously in his steely eyes. “Certainly, pet. I intend to kiss you again.”

Lyra’s breath hitched. “N-now?” She cursed the unintentional waver of her voice, for it only caused him to capture both her wrists in one of his hands to free the other to wind through her hair.

“Now,” Lucius confirmed as he lowered his head towards hers.

“I’ll scream.”

“And betray your presence deep in the bowels of the Ministry?” Lucius laughed quietly when she winced. “I thought not. If you were going to do so, you would have done already. Tonight, you are mine.”

She shook her head frantically as her mind whirled in desperate search of escape. Tonks was too far away to hear her, and screaming for the guards would backfire spectacularly; not only would it betray her presence in the department as he had pointed out, but various members of the Order had spoken often of the influence Malfoy had at the Ministry. More than likely he would twist it around so that it was she who was arrested. Stammering, she turned her head from side to side only to see nothing but the darkness around them. “I’ll...I’ll...“

“What, Lyra? Let me tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to stay silent and let me kiss you just as I did before, for you and I both know how very much you enjoyed it the first time. And then you’re going to submit to the inevitable – and submit to me.”

“No!” With a rush of terror Lyra twisted her head to the side and fought to break free of him, but his grip on her was inescapable. His hand stayed tight around her wrists, restraining them in the small of her back as he pulled her head back and forcibly covered her lips with his own once more.
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The Raven's Song