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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 stared up at Lucius in consternation, all too aware that Voldemort would not take no for an answer. If he really was here and he wanted to see her, no one would be able to keep him from her side.
In that moment she wanted nothing more than her wand back in her hand, but Lucius’s hand tightened around it instead as he met Rabastan’s intent stare and spoke on her behalf. “Very well,” he said curtly. “You and I both know that no one here can disobey his command, and that includes Lyra.”
But still Rabastan stood there before them, his eyes flickering to rest on Lyra as they filled with a darkness that spoke of everything that passed between them the day before. A violent shiver chased through her from head to toe, and it was all she could do to choke back the sob rising up in her throat as Lucius glanced down at her.
The irony that she now looked to the Death Eater for protection didn’t escape her, but he didn’t let her down. With a sneer that reminded her precisely what he was outside of the bed they shared, he advanced on Rabastan with her wand outstretched. “Get out,” he spat.
“My orders were to bring Lyra to our master -”
“Begone from here, Rabastan! I shall bring her down, once she is dressed.”
Rabastan lifted one dark brow. “A shame. None of us would protest should you order her to forego her clothing, I assure you.”
“Enough!”
Lucius shot a vicious blast of light out of her wand that scorched a hole in the wall’s wooden panelling above Rabastan’s head, and the other wizard’s mocking smile slipped away as he turned on his heel and left the room, the door slamming in its frame behind him.
Breathing far too heavily, Lucius pulled Lyra into his arms and kissed her fiercely, the sheet between their bodies falling away as she eagerly responded to him, willing him to drive away the memories and fears she dared not confront. The moment she left these rooms they would come flooding back, she knew that, but for now there was nothing but them.
But no kiss could last forever. With a strangled groan, he finally pulled back and sank down onto the chaise opposite the bed. “We should not waste much more time, pet,” he said hoarsely. “I dare not anger the Dark Lord by making him wait for your attendance.”
She followed him across the room, unable to stay away from him for even a moment. “Then I have to go to him?”
“I fear that you must.” He sighed. “Much as it grieves me to admit it, I cannot protect you from him, Lyra. Even with my own permitted wand I could not. His word is law.”
Lyra’s lip jutted out stubbornly. “Not to me.”
Lucius’s eyes widened as he leapt up and backed her up against the wall. “Don’t be a fool!” he hissed furiously. “Lyra, the only hope you have of coming through this safely is to give him whatever he wants – surely by now you realise he cannot be defeated!”
“I haven’t given up hope.”
He swore. “And what sort of a weapon is hope? Come, witch, the fact you are here now proves my point, surely!”
She whitened as his barb struck home. “That’s a low blow, Lucius!”
To his credit, he flinched. “Yes, it was, but perhaps you need to hear it. I hate what the Lestranges did to you, and I hate that I still cannot protect you now. Lyra, all I ever wanted to do was keep you safe, I swear.”
“Safe – and yours.”
He slowly nodded. “That I cannot deny.”
Lyra gazed up at him, unable to tear her wide eyes away. There seemed to be so much more underlying those few words, but with Voldemort waiting for her there was no time to try to discern it. Her heart in her mouth, she finally ducked out from underneath his arm and he let her go, silently transfiguring one of the sheets into a long, green dress for her to wear.
It fitted like a glove, clinging to all her curves to the extent that Lucius’ eyes instantly darkened in appreciation. She knew without needing to ask that he yearned to pull her back into the bed they had so recently vacated, but with a low sigh he merely reached for his shirt where it had fallen to the floor the night before and pulled it back on before taking her arm and leading her from the room as he pocketed her wand.
Lyra stared straight ahead as Lucius led her through the manor once more, pretending not to notice the intrigued stares they attracted from the handful of Death Eaters they passed. None of them mattered, not when Voldemort himself was waiting for her.
They finally came to a halt on the ground floor, at the very rear of the manor. All was silent around them, and Lucius drew a shallow breath as he took another swift kiss from her before he gave her what little advice he could. “Lyra,” he said, “remember that you can hide nothing from our master. He will know if you are lying, and he will punish you most severely. Be strong, pet, and I will be here waiting when he is through with you.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice to try to answer him, and he grimaced tightly as he raised one hand to rest against the heavy door and spoke again.
“Master?” he said, his voice low. “I have brought Lyra Black to see you as you commanded.”
“Very good.” Voldemort’s high-pitched words seemed to come from all around them, echoing in the high ceiling of the corridor to draw a startled gasp from Lyra’s lips. “She may enter – alone.”
“Alone?!” Shaking her head frantically, Lyra twisted to look up again at Lucius. “Lucius, please!”
His face contorted as he too shook his head. “Pet, you know I would do anything you ask of me, but I cannot do this. The Dark Lord commands you go to him alone, so alone you must go. Be brave, Lyra, and be strong.”
And with those words the door swung open and he propelled her forward before she could even catch her breath.
At the far end of the long, narrow dining hall, devoid of all furniture, stood Voldemort himself.
Lyra had never seen him before, and the sight of the unnatural wizard awoke a deep, primeval need to flee far away from him. Tall and slender beneath his flowing robes, his skin was so pale it seemed to glow in the dim light of the hall, and his nose was nothing more than two tiny slits between his mouth and eyes – piercing red eyes that were fixed firmly upon her, seeming to see far more than any human eyes should be able to see.
Remembering Lucius’ words, she bowed her head before straightening back up and meeting Voldemort’s intent stare from across the hall. Time seemed to stretch out around them, each thudding heartbeat increasing her compulsion to look away from him, but she dared not do so.
Finally, a mirthless smile spread across his face as he crooked one long finger to beckon her closer.
Hoping with everything she was that was a good sign, she warily crossed the hall, the stone floor cold against her bare feet. To approach the darkest wizard that had ever lived without even her wand to defend her was surely madness, but Lyra couldn’t see what other choice she had. She simply had to trust that he valued her too much to bring her here simply to kill her – for she was, after all, not only a pure-blooded witch but a member of the Order as well.
“Sirius Black’s widow,” he said softly as she came to a halt in front of him.
Her breath quickened in fear, but she did not back down. Holding her head high, she waited for him to speak again. Eventually he did so.
“You are an intriguing witch, Lyra Black; one I have kept a close eye on for some time now,” he said. “Your skill and intelligence is beyond doubt, and you are a brave witch too. That much is evidenced by the fact that you joined the Order at such a young age – and it was there, of course, that you met the wizard who became your husband.
“Despite his defiance of me time and time again, I can concede that Sirius was both a noble man, Lyra, and a talented wizard. I do not doubt that his son will be just as powerful, for the Black blood combined with yours that runs through his veins is a formidable combination.”
Now they came to it. Thank Merlin that however much danger she was in, Leo was safe, protected by the Fidelius Charm where no Death Eater could ever reach him. Her breath grew shallow, but she shook her head and willed herself not to flinch and betray the height of her fear.
“I will not let you have my son,” she said, the first words she had spoken to him.
He tilted his head to the side. “I never expected you to willingly surrender him to me, Lyra, but surely you must see that the world we live in is changed forevermore. You cannot hide him away forever, for the day will come when it is time for young Leo to take his place alongside you in the world I have crafted.”
“No.”
Voldemort’s smile widened as he slowly lifted his wand. “No?”
“No.” Lyra drew a deep breath. “Torture me until you break me if you will, but it’ll do you no good. You’ll only be left with neither of us, for I won’t betray my son to you.”
To her amazement, he let the wand fall back to his side. “I believe that – and for that reason, Lyra, I shall let you live. I have no wish to spill pure blood, and I sense that you could do much for me now you have come to Malfoy Manor. In time I am sure you will change your mind, and I can be patient. You will not forsake your son, I am convinced of that. Eventually you will bring him here.”
“Never -”
“Is a very long time,” he interrupted her. “You are a prisoner here now, Lyra, but if you will only see sense I will ensure you have everything you could ever need; your son’s safety and happiness included. I reward those who faithfully serve me, you see, and I place a great value on what you and the last of the Blacks can one day do for me. All you need do is accept the new order.”
His voice was seductive, willing her to submit – but she refused to ever do so. Lyra ran her hands through her hair with a low sob she could no longer hold back. “I don’t want to stay here even a day longer, let alone bring my son into the heart of such evil!”
Her voice broke as the dark wizard stared into her eyes, and his tongue darted out across his thin lips. “I see,” he said. “You have spirit, Lyra, and it is a spirit I both admire and want to have serving me. For that reason, I will ensure that the ordeal you endured yesterday will not be repeated.”
Lyra’s eyes widened. “The Lestranges -”
“Rabastan and Rodolphus will be leaving the manor later today, and I too have something I must attend to overseas. All I ask of you, for now, is that you stay here with Lucius and think over what I have said. You will be safe, I promise you, for my express command will keep you protected. The only one of my Death Eaters you will need to see until my return is Lucius, and you cannot pretend to either of us that that does not appeal to you.”
His lips curved back into a mockery of a smile as Lyra paled further still, afraid to realise how very transparent her innermost thoughts were to Voldemort. Lost for words, she finally lowered her head as he laughed under his breath and spoke again.
“Return to Lucius; I have no doubt he can be relied upon to keep you captive here.”
That was surely a dismissal. Somehow, she had survived. Dizzy with mingled fear and relief, she turned to walk away from him, but his cold hand closed around her wrist before she could take more than two steps.
“And Lyra?” he said softly. “Think on what I have said. I will not wait forever for an answer.”
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The Raven's Song