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The Slow Unintended Seduction Of Lucius Malfoy	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Lucius Views: 37418 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: 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.

Chapter List
- 1-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-CH8
- 9-CH9
- 10-CH10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 10
- 11
- 12
Chapter Eleven
The kitchen was spotless. Harry had cleaned up the shattered glassware and plates of leftovers that had been left for his uncle's return. He had washed up the fallen food from the floor, cleaned up what Aunt Petunia had left on the stove in her agitation, and then scrubbed the floor and cabinet surfaces multiple times, until they no longer had an orange tinge. He watched Lucius from the hallway door, the man's eyes skimming through, trying to read a story Harry had yet to tell. Maybe a story Lucius had seen before in his own bloodied past.
Harry waited, stepping to the side when Lucius crossed the distance, letting the man into the hall, but blocking him from the living room. Harry had cleaned as best he could in there, but without magic he was limited. Lucius sniffed quietly, Harry knowing the air smelled of ozone and bleach.
“It couldn't be helped,” Harry said after a moment when Lucius turned his piercing gaze to him.
“How so?”
Harry shifted from foot to foot, glancing away again. “I couldn't be set right.”
Lucius reached for him, but Harry flinched back, eyes wide. He didn't want Lucius to touch him. Didn't want the man to feel just how wrong he was on the inside. Harry knew now. He knew what his body had been very loudly trying to tell him.
He stepped back into the living room, eyes glancing unseeingly over his relatives as they sat around the broken television. Harry had arranged them the best he could, given the damage. His power had exploded out when Vernon had gone to strike him. The force had torn the defenseless muggles apart, broken and twisted their bones, shredded their clothing, destroyed the furniture. Harry, knocked out from the power, had woken up too late to save anyone. He had cleaned up as best as he could, but there was no question what had happened.
It was too difficult to look at them, so Harry looked at Lucius. The man was probably the most beautiful thing that had ever stepped into that horrible house. He didn't even look shocked. He didn't even look disgusted. But Harry knew how well Lucius could hide himself and the truth of his emotions. There would be no kindness from the man again. Not when Lucius finally saw what Harry was.
Still, Harry had to show him.
“Something inside me didn't want to be hurt anymore,” Harry said softly, Lucius walking carefully around the swept floors and furniture chunks. The blond looked up when Harry spoke, but then went back to his inspection of the broken family. “I was having a panic attack, and I kept thinking; what is my body trying to say? And then I figured it out. Really fucking quick.”
He pointed next to Lucius, where Harry had been when it happened. The carpet had pulled up and the floor boards torn apart where he had stood. He had put the frying pan back, the massive dent still in it where it had been thrown away by Harry's magic.
Lucius remained silent, looking at him expectantly. Harry pursed his lips and then raised his shoulders. “My body said to kill them. All of them. And then I'll never have to worry again.”
“You lost control,” Lucius finally spoke, taking a step around the twisted legs of Petunia Dursley.
“No.” Harry shook his head, turning towards the stairs. “I found my control.”
“Harry, this type of magical outburst doesn't work that way.”
He paused, glancing back. Lucius had sounded kind. Almost caring. “Maybe for normal people. But believe me, Lucius, I'm a fucking freak.”
Lucius growled, tripping over half a chair in his haste to get to Harry. “You're not—”
“He used to think I did things on purpose too. Little things to piss him off. Big things to ruin his life. He thought I had come into his home to destroy the goodness in his very world. It was just the way I was. I couldn't be anything else... It's just who I am, and no matter how many times I said sorry, it was still him thinking I was trying to hurt him. Well this time... this time it was on purpose. And I'm not sorry. Not for him. Not for him or her either.”
Lucius caught his arm and Harry flinched, trying to pull away. Lucius wouldn't let him, turning Harry harshly, glaring molten silver down at him. “You are.”
“I'm not!” Harry raised his chin defiantly. “I'm glad they're dead. Glad I was able to finally stand up for myself. Glad that I didn't need anyone to—Damn it, stop looking at me like that!”
“You are lying to me, Potter,” Lucius snarled, grabbing Harry around the waist when the he tried to break free.
“Fuck you! You don't know a god fucking damn thing about me!” Harry shouted, pushing harder on Lucius's shoulders and chest.
“What was the message?” Lucius demanded, grabbing the hand that was about to slam into the bandaged wound on his shoulder.
“I told you—To kill them!”
“You're lying.” Harry must have been very weak because it took nothing for Lucius to grab the back of his neck and hold him still. His head hurt, especially the back of his skull. Dully, Harry remembered he had been hurt last night.
“Tell me, Potter. Tell me, and I'll leave you alone.”
Harry stilled, licking his dry lips. “I told you.”
“No, you didn't. You told me what you wanted the message to be,” Lucius said with a low growl. “Tell me what it actually was.”
“How do you know that? How can you even know that?” Harry hissed back, again trying to push the man away. Lucius was too strong, or Harry was too weak. The result was the same.
“I know,” Lucius said softly. “Now tell me. Please.”
Harry broke away from the piercing gaze, studying the dim stairway instead. “There was no message. Just... just nothing.”
“There is always a message.”
Harry snapped his gaze back, anger and agony glowing bright in his eyes. “Not for me! Just fear. Just telling me I was afraid. My body was afraid, and didn't want to be anymore!” He glared at Lucius, at the bastard that had managed to make him feel weak and strong at the same time. Even in this. Harry hated it. Hated these feelings burning and tumbling inside.
“Good.” Lucius said after a moment, loosening his unyielding grip on Harry.
“Good?” Harry gaped at him in disbelief. “My body knew I was weak—So pathetic I couldn't even defend myself from a damn powerless muggle. It had to do it for me. How crazy is that? My body had to do what I refused, and in doing so, killed them all!”
“You will learn control now,” Lucius said, hand coming up to touch the wound on Harry's lips. Harry stumbled back from the gentleness, shaking his head.
“I'm going to jail. I'm going to sit in this house until Dumbledore shows up, or the neighbors' smell them rotting and call the cops.” Harry took a step up the stairs. “Get the hell out of here, Lucius. No point me ruining your life too.”

Harry had taken everything in Dudley's second bedroom and thrown it in his cousin's first, piling stuff on the floor. The bed was still small and cramped, more so since Harry kept growing, but it was better than the carpet, or sleeping in the beds of the deceased. Harry lay in a ball, arms around his knees, fighting back the emptiness inside and the sting of tears. A gasping feeling kept rising up his throat. Not panic, but sorrow. He wanted to sleep. Wanted the numbness to settle fully, and let him drift away.
But Harry couldn't sleep. His mind still whirled with what had happened. Vernon. The explosion. The terrible, terrible cleaning. He had to clean. It was wrong to leave Petunia's spotless home a mess like that. The woman had been obsessed with things being orderly, and Harry had ruined it all with one defensive action.
Lucius hadn't left. Harry could hear him moving around downstairs. Maybe cleaning. Maybe collecting evidence to prove Harry's guilt. Harry had no idea at this point. Why hadn't Lucius just let him lie? Why had he needed Harry to tell him he had been so scared? It didn't make what he did any better. It made it worse. Harry's fear had won and people had died. Harry never had to fear from Vernon again, but he now had a lifetime left to fear himself.
He never should have opened the door. Hope had flared so strong for an instant, seeing Lucius through the curtain out front. Why, Harry didn't know, because Lucius couldn't turn back time. There was no way to erase what Harry had done. And really, it shouldn't be erased. Three lives had been snuffed out. Needlessly. Because Harry hadn't walked out the backyard and run far away when Petunia had called him in last night. No, he had done as he was told. He had gone in to greet Vernon. And then everyone had died.
Harry glanced up, the floorboards outside the open door squeaking. Lucius stared in at him, again unreadable. As if having an expression would break whatever was left of Harry's tenuous control. Maybe it would. Maybe a blank Lucius was safer than what Harry had last met in the manor kitchen, smiling so bright and caring that Harry had panicked.
“It's time to go.”
Harry couldn't help but snort. God, Lucius just thought he could walk in here and sweep him away. “I can't sleep. Cast me asleep so I don't have to be awake anymore.”
Lucius stepped into the dusty bedroom, kneeling beside Harry's bed. He smoothed down the ragged bedspread, holding back from actually touching the brunette's tense form. “Come home with me, Harry.”
Harry's breath caught. The man couldn't still want him. Not after all this. Harry didn't deserve that... He shook his head slowly, another sob clutching at his throat. “I did something bad, Lucius. I don't get to be around people after that.”
Lucius reached his hand up, Harry cringing slightly. The man waited, and then carefully touched Harry's cheek, fingers spreading and contouring to his flesh. It was warm. Grounding. “Some mistakes are worse than others. You committed an action. But you did not create the situation where the action was demanded of you.”
“I am responsible for my actions,” Harry said tightly, wanting it not to be true. Wanting it to be easy to blame everyone but his terrible self. “I have to be. We all have to be.”
Lucius nodded, his thumb caressing over Harry's lip. “Yes. But there are also consequences to actions, Harry. What you did was a consequence to the actions of a long line of people that hurt you and ignored your pain. Your uncle's brutal actions. Your headmaster's selfish actions. My cowardly actions.”
“You weren't—”
“I was,” Lucius said evenly. “I didn't want to upset my life by facing down Dumbledore and bodily keeping you safe with me. And because of that, I left you defenseless. It was very wrong of me, and now you are hurting because of it.”
“You're not responsible for me. I'm not... I'm not anything...” Harry trailed off, hating that this too was true.
“If things had gone another way, you could have died. And even though your uncle and headmaster would have held blame, so too would have I. We are all to blame in this, Harry. Not just you.” Lucius ran his fingers carefully to the back of Harry's neck, finding the blood that had dried. “I am here because you are everything to me. I know that is difficult for you to hear, never mind understand. But that is how it is, and how it shall remain. Now kindly sit up so that I can heal your head.”
Harry sat up slowly, eyes widening slightly while he bit his lip. “You don't mean that...” Lucius might like him a little, but there was no way Harry could mean so much to him. He ran his eyes over the man's face but Lucius's expression was still shuttered, even if his voice held warmth.
“Oh, have you become the great authority on what I mean?” Lucius asked with a raised brow. “You who can't even get through a day without destroying your clothes?”
Harry blinked, looking down and seeing himself truly for the first time. “Oh... oh crap. Gross... How can you even sit so close right now?”
“Turn your head,” Lucius ordered lightly. Harry did so after a moment, sitting up straighter so that he could turn on the bed. The man's fingers gently probed at the painful gash on Harry's skull, the boy hissing softly each time.
Harry closed his eyes, wondering if this was the last time Lucius would ever touch him. The man was very good at lying. Had always been... but... Harry wasn't sure if Lucius had ever lied to him. Lucius told Harry stuff, personal stuff, and he listened when Harry dared to share the same. He made sure that what Harry shared was honest too.
“How does it feel?” Lucius asked, somewhere around Harry's ear.
“Er...” Harry blinked his eyes open, glancing to the side where Lucius was peering with eyebrow raised expectantly and expression still blank. “My headache is gone. No more... no more dull, red pain...” He wondered how the man could look so lovely while inside the Dursleys' ugly, mundane house. It was almost like Lucius brought the manor with him, just around wherever he was. Just enough to feel safe again.
“Good. Now let me see your hand.” Harry was surprised when Lucius reached for his fingers, not realizing until touched that he was in pain and hurting. He watched as Lucius healed him, the darkness fading from his hand and the digits thinning back to their normal, slender size. Lucius noticed things about Harry that he didn't. Maybe Harry had missed something that still made him okay inside...
Lucius ran his hand over Harry's, covering his and sliding fingers between to hold him. Harry clasped around the warm digits, grasping tight and staring at their entwined hands. “How do I learn control? How can I ever stop from doing something like this again?” Harry asked, his voice so quiet he wasn't sure if Lucius could even hear him.
“You need to acknowledge what your body is trying to tell you. When you hide from yourself, that's when your body takes over. You can't hide.” Lucius's voice was a soft rumble in Harry's ear, warm and comforting as the man rested against his back.
“Oh...” Harry had spent a lot of time pretending he wasn't as frightened as he truly was. Not just with Vernon. With the future. With who he was... If he was anything at all. Afraid of the things he really wanted. The happy things that made him feel like he was something, and nothing, all at once.
“I think... I think I could sleep now.” Harry wiggled his fingers, waiting for Lucius to let go.
Lucius didn't, instead wrapping his other arm around Harry's waist and holding him tight. “Sleep when we're home.”
“I can't—”
“You can,” Lucius purred into Harry's ear, warm and compelling, lips brushing lightly against his sticky neck. “Ask your body what it really wants. Clear away that busy, tangled mind of yours, and just ask your body.”
Harry closed his eyes, sighing softly. And then again, a heavier sigh as he leaned back against Lucius's sturdy form. He felt so safe like this... Maybe even loved. Harry swallowed another rising sob at the thought. He liked this feeling. Didn't want it to ever stop. If he could sink into Lucius and stay in his arms forever, maybe things would finally be okay.
“What does it say?” Lucius asked, his bristle rasping ever so lightly against Harry's cheek.
Harry waited, fighting tears, not sure if he could speak it. If he should. Surely, somehow, he would be punished for voicing what he truly wanted.
“I... I want to go to the manor.”
Lucius kissed the side of Harry's face gently and released him, standing fluidly. “Then let's go home.”
Harry turned, shoes catching on the sheets. He got his legs over the bed and stood as well, his vision swimming strangely. Lucius caught him, giving him a concerned look that Harry tried to dismiss. “What about...?” He tilted his head towards the door and terrible things waiting downstairs.
“I've dealt with it,” Lucius said simply. He held his arm out and Harry took it hesitantly, feeling a bit ridiculous to be hanging off of Lucius Malfoy's arm like some silly girl. But Harry was injured after all, and Lucius was very handsome.
“People will wonder where they've gone.” Harry hoped people would wonder. It was wrong for people to disappear and not have anyone care. Harry had almost disappeared, and if it hadn't been for the Malfoys, maybe no one would have noticed.
“That will also be taken care of, once I've dealt with Dumbledore.”
“Oh...” Harry felt the niggling of fear again in the pit of his stomach. Dumbledore had high expectation for Harry. He had not, well, reached many, if any of them.
“It's nothing to concern yourself with,” Lucius said, pausing on the stairs to catch his eye. “He will understand his guilt in the events that transpired here, and he will relent. You will be safe.”
Harry nodded because there really wasn't much else to do. Dumbledore had yet to see reason, and Harry wasn't sure he would, even in this. If it was reason, and not Harry wanting something more than what he deserved. But at least he could admit to wanting it now. A life away from the Dursleys. Away from Dumbledore. A life for him, with people that cared.
The living room was empty, the curtains pulled back to let in the morning light. The floor had been repaired, the drywall fixed, no blood, or grim, or dust, or broken anything. No Dursleys. Harry held Lucius's arm tighter, the two of them walking through the spotless kitchen.
The frying pan still had a dent. Harry bit his lip and let Lucius pull him outside. He shut the door behind them, and then together they popped away.
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- 12
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The Slow Unintended Seduction Of Lucius Malfoy