Ridin' Solo (OPEN)

[LUCIUS MALFOY !]

Despite the husky golden hues of fall outside, it was chucking it down. The heavens had decided that they had more important business that protecting the heads of the several witches, wizards and whatnot that roamed the street that day, doing whatever they needed to so they could get by. So the heavens had abandoned their duty and opened the floodgates in spectacular style. At they were smug about it. The days heat had lifted only slightly, and steam was rising slowly from the drenched streets, swirling around the quickly pattering feet of those trying to get the shelter.

One of those not so quickly pattering feet belonged to the body of a certain Mr Lucius Malfoy. He was human as any of those around him and weather predictions certainly weren't his forte. He was caught by surprise by the sudden shower but as luck would have it, he was near Hogsmeade so made a speedy exit from the streets and into the bar where he found the warm lighting and atmosphere surprisingly comforting, relaxing and soothing. Although his face showed none of this, inwardly, he relaxed as he cruised through the small crowds at this time of day. The tips of his already light hair turning a somewhat darker flaxen than the rest of his mane due to the lighting. Tied up in a voluminous pony tail behind him, he carried himself well and his look even better.

He moved to his own area where he could observe the going on from a slightly higher altitude and he shed his dark coat next to him, folding it neatly and placing it in the corner of his alcove, revealed a slightly tight black formal shirt, a flat but elegant silver chain adored his neck, holding the muscle formation nicely.
As he sat and observed the quickly filling building, his customary drink of firewhiskey and snack of peanuts and strips of dried smoked meat where delivered to him.
Lucius turned his head and gazed out of the window, iron cast orbs half lidded in relaxation as the warmth curled round him ans soft live music filtered through to him. He let out a soft *chrrr* of contentment and leant his weight in the most comfortable position and began his musings of the world. Jaws workings over the strips of meat given to them.

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

As the blond man on the slightly-upper landing chewed contentedly as he surveyed the bar before him, another dashed through the doors of the building. Many had done so before her, to escape the sudden downpour and catch a quick drink to bide the time. They included couples who resided in the quiet wizarding town, others students attempting to haggle with the bartender to let them try a nip of firewhiskey, and others yet coming in from after a long-day's grind at work. The common barflies took gulps of their favorite drink and only addressed any newcomers with a turn of head and nod.

This one was different.

She gingerly pulled the hood from her muted burgundy sweatshirt down, it keeping most of the dampness from her hair. Nevertheless, the humidity from the heat and the rain caused her normally difficult hair nearly impossible to manage, it fluffing and frizzing up. The bottom inch of her dark jeans were stained with water, and shoes soaked to the socks. She looked, simply, horribly uncomfortable. Taking enough steps from the doors to be out of the way of the entrance, she turned towards the bar. The barkeep's long white beard and mustache turned up at the sight of her, in either a smile or scowl. It was difficult to tell.

"One butterbeer, miss?"

"Yes, please," she said sharply, the shrillness in her voice near unmistakeable. The woman pushed herself up onto an empty barstool, pressing her hand down on the vanished wooden surface. Quickly glancing both to the left and to the right, scanning the room for anyone who would give her any trouble, she nearly jumped out of her newfound seat once the mug of the amber liquid was set before her. In her nervousness and the interruption of the butterbeer, she had seemed to have missed the unmistakable visage of the elder Mr. Malfoy...

'Got to keep calm,' she kept repeating to herself in her thoughts, taking the handle and drinking a sip of butterbeer. She gave a slight smile to the old man beside her, who had give her a rather curious (albeit annoyed) glance, before setting the mug down.

Hermione was so close to Hogwarts to meet with a professor there who had been forging her identity as a pureblood. The woman had shown interest in possibly working with the Granger 'girl' to create a revolutionary force against the pureblooded regime. Sure, it was only of two people, but that meant some havoc for those who worked at the school, if only for a short while. That and Draco Malfoy, her nemesis from years back, was around. Although getting captured was the last thing she wanted to happen, she would not much mind if she would hex the hell out of him before she left the grounds.

This journey from London to Scotland was also a pilgrimage; since fleeing from the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts nearly eleven years ago, Hermione's heart had been gnawed at by the guilt of abandoning her comrades. True, it was after she and many others had witnessed Harry Potter's dead body and a long day or so's worth of resistance afterwards. She had a compulsion to visit the place where he had died and pay her respects.

[LUCIUS MALFOY !]

If Lucius had mobile ears, such as a wolf, one would have twitched backwards sharply as soon as that shrill voice left its' confinements. One would say that he was fine tuned to wherever his object of hatred was and that it could sour even his most elaborate of moods, when allowed to. Either way, swallowing the meat just became a whole lot harder. Lucius actually dipped his head slightly in an attempt, a successful attempt, to swallow, but it left a sour taste in his mouth and he was a little sore afterwards. The taste and feeling, as unpleasant as it was, faded quickly and left him.

He noticed that Hermione was sitting just under and to the side of his "balcony", so it didn't take much maneuvering for him to be directly above her. He was silent for this whole time, observing her, his lip curled. He disliked her intensely, even though he believed his sons' hatred for her was bordering on obsessive and it gave him no end of pleasure to taunt his protege, and it often ended up in rather violent playfights which Narcissa definitely did not approve of. He smirked at the thought of his last encounter with Draco, they had crashed to the floor, Draco pinning his legs and Lucius holding his arms at bay when Narcissa had walked in, opened her mouth, and not a sound had come out. Both men were roaring with laughter as she stomped out of the study and they had left off, and just sat by the fire together, Draco eventually falling asleep and Lucius soon after. Yes, despite his cold, harsh exterior, Lucius was still a husband and a father and that showed through at the most important of times.

Right now though, his cold, harsh exterior was what showed through now. Haughty hues of ashen liquid raked and clawed their way over what could be seen of the girl from his point of view, his head not facing her, but his vision subtly taking in how she was sitting her posture, the atmosphere around her.
How frankly uncomfortable she looked, with her hazel tresses almost having a life of their own, her posture certainly showed no life in his books. He prided himself on how his own flaxen hues stayed in shape and reached back to flick his tied hair forward and play with the tips of them, noting that the damp ends had dried off and had returned to normal. Silks were flicked back to their original position with skilled movement and then out of the barely sneering lips, came the voice than no-one wanted to hear when they were feeling vulnerable, let alone, damp, uncomfortable and probably a little bit guilt ridden.

Miss Granger. To what do I owe this...pleasure? he intoned, his voice a low growling drawl. enough to carry to the ears he intended and hit the hearing of those unfortunate to be in its' way. Certainly the old man she had given unexpected company too, made himself scarce and a few looks of what he could have possibly described as resentful fear flashes his way, which he quickly returned with a glare of promised agony if challenged.

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

Hermione nary set her mug down on the bar when she heard someone address her. Before the war, this was not an uncommon occurrence. She may have been something of an outsider for having muggle parents and rubbing elbows with Potter and Weasley, but she had friends. Of course, this changed after Hogwarts fell and Harry Potter fell through that veil of death. 'Hermione Granger' was a curse, a target on her back with flashing arrows; most every witch and wizard knew her name and face through those posters, printed right alongside calling her an 'undesirable' and to be captured on sight. If she was any bit concerned for her safety and well-being, she would have changed it long ago.

Hermione Granger, however, was unafraid of death. With Death Eaters on her trail since she reappeared on the wizarding world's radar and constant pressure and prejudice by those who knew who she was... it became part of her existence.

The game changed when she recognized the voice, in its flatness it cut through the air from the gruff and tired sounds she was used to hearing in this bar. It sent a chill racing up her spine and goosebumps up her arms. After being chased, cursed at, and nearly killed... you would think that she would be acclimated to encounters with enemies. Some experiences, as this one, never got old. The sweat from the humidity turned cold on the back of her neck, and she forcefully attempted to keep herself still and not to address the man by both her movement and posture. A single twitch could have condemned her. The man she was sitting next to suddenly appeared fearful, as if a knife or wand was pointed at him to kill. The condemning, it turned out, was done for her. There was simply no sense in hiding anymore.

"Lucius," she replied primly, but having a hard time hiding the hatred she felt for the man she was addressing, "You owe England and her rain. I am surprised, however. You never seemed the type to traipse around in seedy little bars like this. From what I remember, your mansion was nice enough to stay shut up in." Even though she was last tortured at the Malfoy Manor, she did recall how opulent it was decorated and its mass scale.

[LUCIUS MALFOY !]

A chuckle like rolling thunder with the heaviness of a in impeding storm came forth from the elder Malfoy as he let easily on the balcony barrier, like a beast surveying everything that he ruled. Frosty coloured eyes slowly raked over the bar, making sure that no-one was going to do anything stupid, in turn assuring Hermione's' temporary safety whilst he was still around. That's really how it worked, he wasn't doing it out of kindness. She could be dragged out kicking and screaming, or even killed after he was do with his little exchange but not whilst he was speaking to her, irritating her, winding her up or causing her any other type of discomfort or displeasure, thank you very much. Hearing his name from her lips gave him a chill of some sort of twisted pleasure which he couldn't but his finger on. One hand snaked down to his thigh where his snake-headed wand rested in a more portable carrier and his played with the fangs with his nails, expression calmly smug.

The rain outside intensified much to Lucius' displeasure and he internally roared at it, but was outwardly calm. Actually, it wasn't so bad, the husky golden hues of earlier were still present but now mixing with sunset threads and melding together with the ever rising steam from the previous heat of the day. His attention went back to the young lady, yes as much as he hated to admit it now, she had grown into a fine young thing, below him. A slight upwards twitch of his lips gave his amusement away at her reply.

Hmm, then i will have to thank her later. he mused. She mentioned how her expectations of him had not been met by this meeting and he could not help but chuckle.
Ah, but my dear Granger, the times have changed, look around you, although darker, Hogsmeade has not become as you put it.."seedy". He motioned softly with one hand. And indeed, Hogsmeade was slightly darker, but with it was a definite elegance, new furniture, possibly a new layout. There were subtle things here now that hadn't been before. Times had changed indeed. He let out another rumbling laugh. Even the Lords of a Manor must get out once in a while, there's so much more to life than prowling the many rooms of my place. Although, I can bet at this moment you wish that's all I had been reduced to. he chuckled. No such luck, Granger. his voice took on a darker, harder edge as he asserted and displayed his sure-footed dominance of the wizarding world. Sure he was no Dark Lord, but he was top dog, and he KNEW it.

But I take it your stay at the Mansion was...too your liking? he sniped, dark humour infusing his words.

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

"A pig dressed in a ball gown and lipstick is still a pig; you certainly have heard of that old phrase, even if Muggle in origin," Hermione replied, still not looking at the man speaking to her from across the pub, "And what is a bar but the sum of her patrons? Whether positive or negative is certainly up to interpretation, between you and I." Sure, she certainly could have rushed over towards him, vine wand ablaze, and attempt to curse him straight to hell. Such suicide missions were of the stylings of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, with her being the small voice of planning and reason out of the three. Despite her being emotionally damaged from the death of her friend and this causing her to take unnecessary risks, she needed to keep a cool head now. This bar was an unexpected pit stop on the road to Hogwarts, and she was most determined to make it there in one piece and alive.

She turned her head slightly towards the exit, hearing the roar of the intensified downpour. Her hair's frizziness tempered from the cool temperature of the bar. Hermione would make time later on to brush her mane out, as one day without maintenance would result in mats and tangles that would have to result in her having to chop it off. As much of a decent idea that would have been, as one of her distinguishing features was her bushy hair, she had grown attached to the feature that drew those boys to her in the first place. A slightly smile drew on her lips as she took another gulp of butterbeer; funny, as humid, sticky, and warm it was outdoors, the warmth of the drink worked to cool her down.

"I have personally never been one to rely on luck, only on facts. You prancing around like the peacocks on your lawn to flaunt your status is a core feature of your character, as I know it." There was no fear anymore in her voice, but she now carried herself with a calm and quiet confidence. After all, Lucius Malfoy was no Bellatrix Black. He was better known for pushing around house elves and bullying the Weasley's, not for torture and murder. He was, of course, not to be taken lightly either, since being a Death Eater usually meant that said witch or wizard was a skilled duelist and able to kill without remorse.

She could have backed down, submitted herself to him and his blood status, and perhaps left the bar without being harmed. This witch, however, no longer feared death and danger. The worst that could happen was that she would be tortured and killed, one of those already experienced and the other reuniting her with her fallen friends.

"My visit to your manor was quite lovely," she replied smoothly, "But I would much like not to go back."

[LUCIUS MALFOY !]

Lucius chuckled and cracked and rolled his shoulders, power virtually oozing from his voice when he spoke. He lounged ever so slightly in his seat and glared lazily down at her, aware that some people were looking back at him warily. Hermione's comment had traveled and no-one was ready to face a ticked off Lucius Malfoy, even if he wasn't classed as a Death Eater anymore, he was still deadly and a killer. This was his world now, he called the shots, and he wasn't one to kill without reason, but sure as hell he was being given a reason right now in the eyes of some.
In his own eyes however, he found her attitude very amusing although, her insult hadn't been lost on him, the consequences would come later. He knew Death Eaters were looking for her, that she wasn't the most popular face on the streets either.

Still so arrogant even in these circumstances. You're hunted and disliked and you bring it upon yourself to pass judgment on me. So very amusing. he purred angling his chin downwards a tad. His eyes flashed the colour of a stormy sea, darkening in the stormy dusk lighting that was flooding Hogsmeade.
Seems you've been away longer than I thought, or maybe you're just blind. In the wizarding world, status is everything, I do believe, my dear. he drawled softly, his tones deep with an underlying threat. You of all people, should know this. Again he chuckled and straightened his back, a dry smile coming onto his face, maybe even more frightening that the malicious smirk that was his constant companion these days.

Don't worry, Granger. There won't be another time that you're allowed to step foot into my place. Let alone my grounds without a damned good reason. he growled low.

Outside, there was a stirring of black and the rain suddenly seemed to let up, as if it was fleeing. Lucius took note of that and narrowed his eyes. He didn't know whether the black was of someones cloak, or of something much worse, but it could only be seen occasionally. Now on edge, Lucius' hand crossed over his taut stomach to the side facing Hermione and trailed it discreetly down his side towards his wand which was hidden, fingers brushed the concealed snakes' head gently.
From an angle it just looked like he was sitting properly, but look closer, he was tense, not afraid, but not wanting a run-in today, but if there was going to be a run in, it would be him who walked away the victor. If anything, Lucius had become even more aggressive and dangerous with his heightened status. The days of even slight cowardice, were far, far away, never to return. He was dangerous, and he knew it.

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

Hermione took her first good look at Lucius Malfoy after he finished speaking of her 'overconfidence', cocking her head to the left and slightly tipping downwards, eyes up and boring into him. Funny, he did not appear all too different from when she had last remembered him. Well, besides the lack of blood, unkempt stubble, and with a few wrinkles from smiling haughtily too much. She kept where she was, taking her mug and gulping a mouthful of the warm amber liquid and swallowing it; so comforting it was, like her childhood condensed into a cup and flavored with a bit of cinnamon and butterscotch. Liquid courage, it turns out, did exist, for she knew she could not back down from him now.

These new and former Death Eaters confused her, however; in the past, they would have chased her down with one sighting of her curly-haired head and shot unforgivable and unidentifiable hexes at her and she ran and shot more of her own back. Now, they toyed with her, like cats to mice trapped in a corner. Bellatrix, as she was not quite as subtle, dragged her first into an alleyway near Gringotts months ago and left the Granger girl with a scar running up her leg and bruises that just went away a week or so ago. But still... she talked to her, taunted her... it was as if their first and main weapon now was their word and law and not the wand and knife...

Very peculiar indeed.

"Don't you worry about me not being up to speed with the 'changing times'" she replied caustically, "Bellatrix Lestrange was kind enough to welcome me and catch me up." For that 'welcome wagon' of crucios and other methods of torture that the Lestrange woman was just so keen on, Hermione was going to thank her someday with a free, extended stay in a Azkaban jail cell... or six feet under blown into a million pieces... that attack solidified Hermione's already steely resolve, and she would keep risking herself like this until that confidence is worth it.

"You know; I've changed my mind about your place. The chairs, marble floors and memories of having my face shoved in them. I'll find such a good reason; I'll make sure of it," she replied coldly and as a direct threat, a low rumble in her throat. She straightened her back, it no longer being uncomfortable from her dripping wet hair. "So tell me, Lucius," Hermione continued, saying his first name dramatically, mockingly, "How's your son? It's been ages since I've seen Draco; I believe the last memory I have of him is from behind, running with his tail between his-"

Hermione stopped, noticing that the man sitting beside her had been staring at something in the front windows for a little bit now instead of cowering and quietly drinking like he had been before. Was it a snatcher at the doorway, death eater, dementor? Or just a shadow, a shade of something significantly more sinister slithering on the street outside? She dare not look, but her wand dug into her pocket from her turning before, as if begging her to just kill the man before her and run.

[LUCIUS MALFOY !]

As is my last memory of you, Granger! Lucius snapped at her, briefly fixing her with a glare before his attention was drawn back to the door. He tensed his jaw and the muscles in his legs started to contract as he prepared to either draw his wand or get out of the way. He had heard Hermione's comments about Bella and her threat and he would deal with that later. Right now, there was something else more pressing literally at the door. His eyes changed from the iron grey to a dappled mist, almost white as he focused. Then, the door opened.

Lucius hissed in a breath and assumed a faux relaxation position, one elbow on the table, covering the arm that was on his wand. Two present Death Eaters swept into the pub. People went silent, a few tried to hide, but there was still a low rumble of chatter as a few tried to act normal. Even though Death Eaters were more common than ever, there presence still sent a chill through some. Lucius just ignored them usually.

Now shifted only very slightly to he was effectively giving Hermione the "cold shoulder", just in case things got messy. His eyes, virtually focused white slits of contempt locked onto the the Death Eaters as they swanned in. Luckily, they were only interested in a quick bully and drink. So after swiping some drinks and pushing a few standing customers around, they swanned out as quickly as they came. One glanced over in Lucius' direction and if he mask had been off, you would have seen his face wrinkle in fear as Lucius raised his lip and silently snarled at him. The Death Eater didn't swan out like his companion...he fairly ran out.

Chatter and oder can back to Hogsmeade within a few seconds, a few whispers about Lucius' hold over the Death Eaters flickered around the bar but soon died when many realised he was still in the vicinity. Lucius relaxed and his shoulders dropped, outlined muscles melting into smooth contours and his hand pulled out his wand swiftly but silently. He held its and twirled it absent-midedly before replying to the youngster near him. Turning to lock eyes with her, his own twin pools of molten metal piercing, holding, and focusing on her. His voice was as venomous as Nagini's bite and his tone bass and harsher than sandpaper.

Do not threaten me, Hermione. You think you can beat me with words or magic, you can't. Words can only do so much. he purred, his voice dripping with smugness...and the promise of death if she made a move to attack him.
His eyes though, screamed a challenge at her, and his lips curved up in a dry humoured smile as he waited for her next move.

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

It was perhaps a very good thing she decided to allow her wand to beg for use instead of granting it that pleasure of revenge; before she could even begin to conjure up a retort to Lucius two Death Eaters entered the pub. Oh. No. This could not be happening... one on one, Hermione was a master dueler. Two on one she could even manage and then take cover... but three? Absolutely not. The urge to grab her vine wand and shoot a few stupefies these Death Eater's way was almost too much to control; oh, how Malfoy must have enjoyed seeing her squirm like this. The reason they were probably not attacking her,dragging her off to be killed, was because that man had his eye on them. The one even skittered out of the pub like Malfoy was ready to shoot the killing curse at him...

She had not forgotten his insults, however, and as soon as those Death Eaters left her and the rest of the patrons of the pub in peace, she turned again towards him, her gaze deadly and stern. Her upper lip twitched, her anger at the boiling point and near out of control. It took all the might she had in her to stay seated, and the man beside her smartly stood up and went to a free table. There was no need to get in this line of fire...

"How dare you say I ran!" she spat in a shrill voice, grip on the glass mug tightening until her knuckles blanched, "I. Did. NOT. Run. Not like your pathetic excuse for a son, crying about his mother the entire way as the bodies of his colleagues littered the halls. None of us did! We fought and died while you and your family hid back in your manor; you should not be proud of that." Oh man, did he hit a nerve. The guilt of escaping from the bloodbath that ensued after Harry's death haunted Hermione ever since, and anyone who accused her of running out of cowardice was asking, begging for her to be their biggest enemy. A image of Harry's limp body, bloody and horrible, flashed in front of her eyes; it alone could bring her to tears.

No. Not now.

"Sod off," she barked, "I will not attack you; you're not worth my time or energy. Your son, sniveling little weasel that he is, is more of my interest than you." That was a challenge back; if he was to make a move to attack her, he would have to do so soon. She had done all the goading she could.

[LUCIUS MALFOY !]

Lucius barked a laugh, a deep reverberating sound. He did not care that this little pest had spilled what she believed was his secret. He didn't care that she had insulted his son, Draco was far above her now. She lived in the past and for the past, he lived for now and the future. He sneered at her.

Ooh baby, have I hit a nerve? he laughed, that was cut short as a green stream of light shot past his nose. Lucius turned quick as a dime, aimed with his wand and fired a warning shot across at the shooter. No doubt it was the "Cruciatus Curse" that had been fired and he gave it right back, a snarl of fury of his features. He thought he was some common customer, but when people started screaming, and his vision cleared of red, he was surprised to see it was a Death Eater. The same two who were had been in there a few moments ago. A feral snarl ripped for Lucius' throat.

DO I LOOK LIKE AN IMPURITY TO YOU? STRAIGHTEN UP AND FIRE RIGHT! he barked, rearing up looking all the world like a long hair pitbull that just wanted to fight. He swung his head back to Hermione and let a rippling growl break loose from his chest.

Do what you do best, mudblood. Run. he whispered mockingly and laughed nastily just as he heard two words.

"Crucio!"
"Confundo!"

A green and then very pale gold stream were aimed at Hermione, and Lucius reared back to avoid them. Whether they hit or not was not a cause for concern. He took one step back, the sounds of terror all around like music to his ears. His eyes narrowed and his whipped out his wand and aimed, slightly too low on purpose, his eyes narrowed. You could see that whatever spell he was going to cast was going to take apart the balcony and possibly be absorbed and could not be taken as anything else but a warning shot.

Let this be a warning to you, Granger! he growled. We all have our flaws, but it how we use them to our advantage that counts! he pulled his wand-arm back and, with a voice like thunder, hatred dripping from it, uttered:
Crucio!

The blast hit the wood, splintering it, disintegrating it, obliterating it. If that wood had been Hermione, Lucius was sure, she would have been dead by now. The hatred and cold, cold, pure fury he had put into that one word had surprised even him. His raised and lowered his eyebrows provocatively at her, the light in his eyes was malicious, cruel, spiteful. But it wasn't petty spite, it was the spite that said.
'because I'm in a good mood, I'll let you live. And indeed, Lucius was in one the best moods he had been in all year.

Run baby, run.

OOC// I'm intending for both the DE's curses NOT to hit. Please dodge them. Erm, if you'd like a duel, or just a pure fist fight, which Lucius' isn't above. Just say so. I'm more than happy to do so. I do have some martial arts experience as well =3

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

In all the confusion and chaos of Death Eaters shooting curses in an attempt to it her and instead nearly knocking out one of their leaders, Hermione found her chance. Lucius Malfoy had indeed hit a nerve, and she now had an excuse to jump up and let loose the frustration she had welling up inside of her ever since she realized that he was in the same area as she. For all of those sneers, snide looks, and demeaning words to her friends... for him and his family's cowardice... for Draco calling her a mudblood... she was ready to let all of that out in a single swish of her wand.

She pulled the vine wand out of her pocket, finally feeling complete again and ducked from two curses that zoomed in streams of green, hellish light overhead, all the while casting a quick protego to avoid any shrapnel or other hexes to hit her. Nevertheless, she kept her brown eyes locked on Malfoy, him shouting at the assailants for missing and their incompetence.

Funny, she thought to herself, the pot calling the kettle black...

"I. Do. Not. Run!" she shouted in what sounded like a war cry, as if daring these Death Eaters to try and hit her, attempt to stop her, dare to injure, maim, or kill her. With a singular slashing motion from upper left to lower left, she bellowed 'sectumsempra', her voice still shrill like the cry of some predatory bird. A series of three rushes of green sparks, reminiscent of blades, zoomed towards the Malfoy patriarch, with the intention to slice into his chest. Whether they would cause massive damage or not she was not sure... she just needed time to escape. However, the Granger girl lingered for a few seconds, waiting to see what her curse had done to him...

[LUCIUS MALFOY !]

Lucius chuckled at her anger. It would be her undoing, and the undoing of his chest as well. He braced himself just as he realised the spell she had sent at him. They hit their mark, not weakly either. That's when all hell was let loose.

Three flashes of light and it was like one blinding painful slash across his chest. Lucius roared, full on roared in blinding agony, fangs exposed in a bloodcurdling cry of pain and vengeance. His bodice tensed and arched backwards at his full rearing height and the blinding light silhouetted his hair, and profile, a frightening sight to see that indeed his canines were longer and slightly more pointed that normal. His chest pushed out in pain and his legs balancing him tautly at the light exploded and faded.
With the fading light, came a deathly silence. Everyone and everything stilled. The Death eaters froze, the running customers froze, even the air seemed to slow and time buckled as the smoke slowly parted to revel the damage.

Lucius was leaning on with one hand on the obliterated balcony, head down, stray strands of hair hanging round his face, panting harshly. If you looked close enough, you could see the blood dripping slowly from his chest. His pants were half growls, and the pain that ripped through him slowly faded as adrenaline and testosterone levels shot through the roof.
His righted himself, throwing his head up and straightening his back, ivories exposed in an clenched jaw but open growl. The damage had been done.
Ebony shirt had one rip in it, one rip that went from his right pectoral diagonally down to his abdomen and there was a slash there. Deep, imposing, bloody and raw, cringed around the edges, his eyes burned with a rage that bordered on insanity. No one did this to Lucius Malfoy...NO-ONE!

Yes you do and you FUCKING know it! he spat venomously.

He moved like chain lighting, tensed muscles powering him off the balcony like a hyper spring, right at the young woman in front of him. Oh yes, Lucius would attack a woman, he didn't care. Women could be more powerful that men at times and he didn't let some "un-written rule" get in his way. The hatred and loathing he felt for the being in front of him was put into two moves. A roundhouse kick and a shoulder slam.

Landing on the floor with a sound akin to thunder, Lucius straightened, turned, kicked and span, his left foot aiming for the still outstretched, his movements smooth, lighting fast and unhindered despite his gouged chest. Nothing vital had been hit so he could move, but with extreme pain which he would no doubt be feeling later. No amount of magic would be able to heal that wound completely, there would always be the smallest, thinest but longest of scars. Singed skin did not like to co-operate with the body when it came to healing.

Coming round from his spin, Lucius came towards the female sideways and thrust out with his shoulder explosively, aiming to the underside of her jaw and the rest of his body to slam into her and send her flying. He put all his weight behind the shoulder slam. That would be just under 250 pounds of muscle and fury hitting her under the jaw and throwing her aside. If that didn't knock her out, nothing would. He threw in another roundhouse for luck before leaping back, cat like, drawing his wands and standing ready. There was only one curse he was going to use now if she got up.

[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!]

Hermione Granger was not afraid of many things. She did not like horses, for how they bucked and kicked and could turn on their masters, and she could not stand seeing her friends helpless. People in themselves had never cowed her, no matter how ruthless they were, cruel, or their track record of violence or brutality. She could conquer anything if she set herself to it; hell, she SURVIVED the second rising of Voldemort, a muggleborn resistance member, main player in the Battle of Hogwarts, best friend of Harry Potter, the greatest thread to the regime. A survivor she was, and she intended to keep it that way. A cool head and quick reaction times kept her as such.

However... this was different. Her fatal mistake was to stay and watch the show that was her curse hitting its intended target. Once it struck him and he had let out his lion's roar, the pub fell silent. Deathly silent, as a matter of fact; anyone could hear here panting breathe, her little heart pounding out of her chest. Oh, why did she not run? Because she was too stubborn to listen to her enemy... and too curious to flee while she had the chance. Her pulsating heart had leapt into her throat, her taking a wide stance with wand still drawn, in case he decided to do something stupid.

Before she could retort once more, claiming that she had not run this time, Hermione saw blood. Oh shit. Shit. This was BAD. She actually hit him, and hard at that. Three slash marks, made like a knife cut him, with blood. The look in his eye in a way reminded her of Bellatrix Lestrange, that cruel insanity that she always had and he did when incensed. While analyzing his appearance, she made the second critical error in judgement by not paying attention to what he was doing. Turns out, he had jumped the balcony... and the next thing she knew she was slammed with the force like a bull ramming into her side. She felt massive, shooting pain underneath her jaw and her ribs on one side, then the other as she crumpled to the ground. Landing on her side and bottom instead of her head, Granger remained fully awake... still alive.

Her wand lay within arms reach, but she was paralyzed and could not reach to pick it up. Hands and legs glued to the wooden floor, she lifted her head to face the man who had given her a chance to escape. He would not have that type of mercy, not after she cut him up and left him scarred. The dust settled, Hermione waiting for his next move. She lift her one hand up first, feeling her lip, now split and bleeding. Every heaving breath ached, but she still had the energy to say something to her foe.

"You're wrong," she spat, actually spitting out blood from her mouth, "I am still here, and will never run away."

[LUCIUS MALFOY !]

Lucius growled, a rasping noise, that grew worse with his harsh panting as he aimed his wand at the fallen half-witches' face. He had had his fair share of scrapes and bruises, gashes and cuts, scars and marks. In fact, his back and shoulder were covered in them, thin lines barely visible, but they were there. His abdominal muscles flickered in pain, and the blood ran further down his chest, past his stomach, although some was soaked up by his dark shirt. Lucius reached out a hand towards to wand and flicked his fingers in a "come hither" motion, before opening his palm again. The wand flew into his hand and he closed his hand around it in a vice like grip, before twirling it expertly. He could feel the wand itself rejecting him. He would never be able to use it to its full potential but that's not what he wanted. His own device seemed to glow with an unholy power and that slightly glow was definitely red. Harsh whispers of fear and doubt trickled through the crowds. No-one was in doubt about what spell Lucius was thinking of. No-one crossed Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius himself was in searing agony, it was like his chest was on fire. He was itching to kill the little beast in front of him, he would NOT loose to her, but at the same time, he wanted her to feel pain.
You silly little cow, I gave you the opportunity to run but NO, just like POTTER, you had to stay and prove your worth... he hissed, his blood pooling just a tad on the singed and dusty floor. Chest and pectoral muscle mildly exposed from the wound, the unharmed skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat and his abs were clear and tense.
Well let me tell you now, Granger...you're WORTHLESS and always will be... his voice was taking on a deadlier tone as he continued, eyes darkening with a sick power, akin to pleasure...sexual pleasure. He growled and his shoulder sheaved as he stood straighter and cracked them.

Oh Granger, his tone suddenly changed. Became lighter, more serious.

[/b]You cause me un-bearable agony since the moment I learnt of your existence, and now,[/b] his tone changed again. A low rasping hiss, full of loathing, aggression, fury, agony and arrogance.
It's time to pay... Fangs flashed as he bared his teeth in a feral snarl.

Flourishing his wand and shoving Grangers' into his belt, the glow around his wand changed and people braced themselves for what was to come. This held more hatred and power than Bellatrix ever could. Lucius was the most powerful at the time, up there with Snape and Dumbledore. The power he had was immense, but the hatred and raw aggression was even more.

Crucio... the curse was uttered with such quiet, cunning hatred, that when the green light burst forth with an unearthly roar, it shocked many. Lucius' eyes never strayed from Hermione's prone body. A she whispered the curse, he looked into her eyes and ran his tongue along his teeth in a dominant and triumphant gesture. He willed the the curse to hit her. This would be more pain than he was enduring right now.

Enjoy the ride. Bitch.[/blockquote]