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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
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- 4-CH4
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Chapter Fourteen
“Tell them my headaches have just gotten worse.”
“I'm not telling them that. They'll think you're hearing voices or something,” Draco snapped.
Harry shrugged. “They already think I'm nuts. It would be more believable than me living at your place the school term.”
“Owl them! They're your friends,” Draco said with a frustrated growl. “I don't want to be hounded all year with questions.”
“No one is going to care,” Harry said flatly, leaning back on Draco's bed, propped on his arms. “I don't care what you tell them. Hell—Tell them I killed my relatives. Why the hell not?”
Glaring, Draco considered shoving his stubborn friend, then thought better of it. “You should come to the station. They'll want to see you. Blaise and Pansy have been asking about you, and I'm sure all your Gryffindor idiots have missed you too.”
Harry shook his head. “I don't have anything to say to anyone. Just go already.”
Draco sighed, folding his arms. “I know you don't want to hear this, but I won't be seeing you till winter break and I'm not leaving you here to mope the whole damn time.”
Harry rolled his eyes but didn't interrupt.
“Your relatives brought it on themselves—Quiet!” Draco glared warningly when Harry opened his mouth to loudly disagree. “No, they didn't deserve to die, especially in such a terrible way. But they brought it on themselves. When you disrespect the basic laws of power, you get burned. First damn thing we learned in school.”
“They were muggles,” Harry muttered. “They would have never learned anything like that.”
Draco wasn't impressed. “This isn't a magic rule, this is a life rule. You don't play with fire. Don't go swimming with sharks. Don't go walking out in the dark when you know monsters are hunting. They knew enough about what you are to be terrified, but they didn't listen to that fear. They attacked you and lost. They ignored the laws of power and didn't survive the consequences. Not the first and not the last fools to do it, but it's always the same end result. Stop holding onto it.”
Harry didn't say anything, staring up at the ceiling instead. He didn't want to feel better about what he had done. Somehow it belittled the Dursley's lives. Weeks later, Harry had decided that he would try to move forward as best he could after the Dursleys' deaths. That involved throwing himself into his studies and figuring out what he wanted to do once he graduated. Part of that agreement with himself was that he could never forget the Dursleys and what he had done. So Harry would never do it again. So the family lived still, if only in his memory.
“Tell them I got expelled for turning Snape's hair pink,” Harry said eventually.
Draco huffed. He had said what he wanted to say and Harry, as usual, had ignored him. “Write me. All the bloody time. You have no excuse, seeing as there's no one here to bother... Quiet.” Draco grumbled when Harry gave him a rakish grin. “Gross. Freak'n hate you. Do not write me about my father, understand?”
“Not a problem. Now go before you miss the train,” Harry said, getting up and letting Draco hug him goodbye.
“You're going to miss me,” Draco said knowingly. Harry shrugged. He probably would. Studying all day alone would likely be boring, tutor or not.
“Hot pink. Neon hot pink hair. Don't forget.” If Harry wasn't going back, it should be for something infamous.
Smirking, Draco nodded, turning to go. He paused, eyes narrowing as he looked back over his shoulder. “What's with the baseball bat?”
Harry looked down, staring at the wooden bat he was holding loosely in his hand. He raised a brow, his wicked grin returning. “Pretty sure you don't want to know.”
Draco scrunched his nose, shaking his head in disgust. “You two are depraved.” He escaped, Harry snickering behind him.

The platform for the Hogwarts Express was just starting to clear of the roaming students and clinging parents when Lucius, Draco saying his final farewells, noticed Narcissa. She was standing just out of sight, waiting expectantly as if she hadn't off and disappeared one afternoon with a succinct note and all her things. Lucius felt Draco stiffen, knowing the boy had found her as well.
“She hasn't seen you in months,” Lucius said calmly, Draco rocking on his heels in indecision. “You must have something to say to each other.”
Biting his lip, Draco nodded, making his way over to his mother to talk. Lucius watched, eyes straying through the train station, making sure Bellatrix wasn't hiding around some dark corner looking to make his life a living hell. Everything looked innocent enough, Narcissa a bit stiff as she talked with her son—Not completely new. She had struggled to bond with her only child. Likely the side effect of an arranged marriage and her own detached parents.
Draco gave Lucius a brief parting wave before getting on the train, his white blond hair disappearing from view. Narcissa remained, petite and stiff, looking the same as ever, if not a bit tired. Lucius waited, wondering how long it would take her to get up the nerve. A good four minutes, it turned out, Narcissa eventually sighing and walking up, standing at his side as if she had just been off with friends for a moment and not months away.
“I thought it would be good to see him off. It's his last year and I've never missed a turn seeing him away to school.” Narcissa spoke softly, her voice lighter than Lucius remembered.
Lucius nodded, remaining silent. He was hardly going to argue her rights in seeing Draco off to school. As for more extended contact, Lucius had a lot to say, but he did not think Narcissa was interested in gaining custody of their son.
“You look nice, Lucius. Almost... informal,” Narcissa said carefully, her thin eyebrow raised as she took in Lucius's casual attire. Leather boots, formfitting pants, collarless shirt, hair loose; Lucius was probably the most under-dressed he had ever been walking outside his manor. Harry had been insistent, wanting Lucius to be relaxed at home and not always in work mode. The mix of envious and lustful looks sent his way that day had only confirmed that his young lover's tastes were shared. Poor Pansy had nearly fainted when seeing him.
“I thought a change was in order,” Lucius finally said. “That's why you left, correct? Things just never changed.”
“Yes...” Narcissa sighed, turning to face him, her stance more relaxed. “Here I was worried I had... Oh, I don't know... My father never would have made it a week without my mother. He was so dependent on her. You were never like him though, were you? Always quick to adapt and come out on top. You shouldered the things that crippled him with ease.”
“We all have our strengths.” Narcissa's father had been weak through and through, and Lucius had held little respect for the man. “How has your muggle hunting been?” He asked, watching her flinch.
“Eventful... Not as satisfying as I remembered it to be.” Narcissa gave a terse smile. “Bella still has such passion, but it's difficult to keep up with her. I had thought... I had thought maybe she was hiding him away. Like she knew something the rest of us didn't, and he would rise again.” She shrugged, lips pursed. “Still, it keeps me busy.”
Voldemort was truly gone then, never to bother Harry again. Lucius kept his face schooled, not willing to show his relief. She could be lying, but he knew Narcissa wasn't. They had confided in each other from the very beginning. No boundaries, no lies, less suffering. They had both grown up as pawns to powerful parents. Even if there was no physical love, there had been a level of camaraderie. Narcissa had liked the structure Riddle offered the world. Lucius had seen it as a lie, just the ravings of a madman that could not face his past.
“You look well,” Lucius said, not having much else to say.
Narcissa waved her hand dismissively. “I look ill. Hardly brimming with the healthy glow you're exuding. I'm glad to see my leaving has helped you, if it has done anything.” Narcissa gave him a calculating look, lips quirking in a small smile. “I do believe you have a laugh line. That was not there when I left.”
Lucius glared at her, completely scandalized. “I do not.”
“Yes, you do. You've been smiling.” She frowned, looking away as if the very idea was upsetting. “I wish to send Draco a gift this Christmas. I thought it would be best to ask you first.”
“Nothing questionable, I trust?” Lucius asked, not trusting Narcissa at all that she would be careful with her own son. She had run off without saying a word to him.
“No, of course not. Just some things of my father's.” She looked sad again, and Lucius wondered if she was bothering to fight her illness or had just relented, like Narcissa had done with so many things in her life. “I should be off,” she said softly, stepping away. “It was good to see you, Lucius... Even with your laugh line.”
Lucius scowled as she walked away, running fingers absentmindedly over his face. Smiling... How absurd. He did not smile. Smirk, at most. Laugh? Never.

Mind caught on his brief conversation with Narcissa, Lucius did not notice immediately what was wrong when he stepped into his manor. At first glance everything seemed normal, well except for Harry. The boy was sitting on the main stairs, hunched over, something long laid out at his bare feet. Lucius blinked, covering his eyes with his hands. “What the hell are you wearing?”
“You're back,” Harry said, standing smoothly.
“Potter... I burned that monstrosity. I know I did.” Lucius dared a glance, quickly squinting as the neon orange shirt from hell filled his vision.
“Actually, you didn't,” Harry said cheerfully, walking down the steps. “I had lost it, mixed up with a sheet under the bed. Only found it a couple of days ago, and was just waiting for the right moment...”
“To blind me?” Lucius growled. “Drive me insane with the damn glow of it?”
Harry smirked, stopping a few feet from Lucius's form. “Maybe. You really do dislike this shirt.”
“It's hideous. It barely fits you, covered in holes—the color is atrocious—”
“Yup. So what are you going to do about it?” Harry asked, smiling brightly while swinging left and right as he stood.
“Do about it?” Lucius asked, wishing Harry would stand still because the bloody shirt was distractingly dizzying while in motion.
Harry smiled wider, tongue running over his teeth for an instant. “Let me rephrase that. What are you going to do to me?” He asked, voice low and suggestive.
Lucius was baffled that the little fool thought he was somehow going to get anything good out of that shirt. He could barely see, the damn thing burning so. Harry had to be mad to think Lucius would want to even look at him while wearing the terrible thing.
Watching Lucius's thoughts flicker around his pained expression, Harry brought the hand he had been hiding behind his back now in front of him. “This is a baseball bat. Muggle. Simple, dull, basically a slab of wood.”
Lucius glared between his fingers. “I know what a baseball bat is.”
“Good. Then you know what it can do,” Harry said brightly. And with that he walked away, dragging the bat on the floor behind him.
Lucius sighed, Harry's departure relief for his addled senses. That damn shirt. He needed to burn the thing. That Harry could wear it, the clearly blind, daft pain in the ass, was beyond him. Lucius could barely look at it, especially after having weeks of respite from the horrible—
There was a loud crash, Lucius snapping his head up to glare down the hall. He snarled, Harry and his damn shirt peeking out from the kitchen. “Potter! Stop destroying my house.” And give up that fucking shirt so I can burn it into a million specks of ash and bury it in the rosebush. No, the backyard—The remains would surely kill the roses.
Harry smirked, wagging his eyebrows. “Make me!” He ducked back into the kitchen, the sound of something heavy slamming into the sound of something delicate and china ringing out.
Harry looked around the kitchen critically, swinging the bat in his careless grip. He knocked over the ceramic canisters—Usually cutesy and animal shaped, but Lucius had managed to find elegant, and now very broken, ones. He smashed in the faucet next, snickering when it bent downwards and dented into the basin. Eyes bright, Harry turned towards Draco's coffeemaker. It was shiny, high tech, and had no right being in a damn wizard's kitchen anyways. He wound the bat to his shoulder, smiling gleefully as he swung. Only to yelp, pulled backwards by his grip, Lucius glaring down at him.
“Calamitous, destructive hell-spawn!” Lucius snarled, taking the bat from Harry's hand and whipping it across the room. Harry's gaze followed, watching as the baseball bat took out the glass faced cupboard Lucius kept him more expensive flatware in. Harry hadn't even thought of that and was very impressed.
“Problem, Mr. Malfoy?” Harry asked innocently while Lucius went through what could only be called his 'murderous' expressions. The man had more than a few, all of them quite spectacular on his aristocratic features. “I was looking for the tea. Couldn't seem to find it. Tea calms you down, right?”
“Nothing is going to—Tea? Tea? You lying, maddening, damn lunatic! I'm going to—”
Harry whirled in Lucius's arms, pushing the spluttering man up against the wall. “What?” Harry asked breathlessly, eyes gleaming with fire. “Punish me?”
Lucius paused, taking in Harry's flushed face and hungry eyes. The boy licked his lips, drawing the man's silver gaze down to the very red pout that absolutely deserved punishment. But then Lucius's eyes fell lower and he squinted, the damn orange t-shirt blaring at him. “I'm going to burn that monstrous shirt. Possibly you, if you insist on wearing it while I'm burning it.”
Harry reached his hand down to Lucius's pants, wiggling his fingers until he found the concealed pocket most wizarding clothing had to hold their wand. He slipped Lucius's wand free, staring the man in the eye while placing the slender instrument in his grasp. “Do it.”
“Do you think I'm bluffing?” Lucius asked, his heart faltering and then beating faster, something in Harry's expression making him feel wild. Crazy. He tightened his grip on his wand, watching Harry's eyes follow the tip of it.
“Come on,” Harry whispered, the wand now inches from his shoulder. “Burn my clothes off.”
Hissing, Lucius grabbed the back of Harry's neck with his free hand, forcing the boy to meet his gaze again. Harry's brilliant green eyes were glowing, full of lust, anticipation, and consuming hellfire. It was like staring into the abyss, Lucius's stomach plummeting, mouth going dry, cock hardening. “You're a maniac,” Lucius rasped, his voice full of awe.
“You're a crazy person. It works out well.” Harry wrapped his hand around Lucius's wrist, pulling the wand closer until it was touching his collar. “I bet you could put a hole in my shirt without even burning me.”
Lucius swallowed, not a hundred percent certain he could. The control it would take, the absolute precision to burn fabric but not the flesh it was resting on... “Harry, this is—”
“You know you want to try,” Harry interrupted, lips brushing lightly to the stubble on Lucius's jaw. “Do I have to beg? Beg you to burn me? Beg you to punish me?”
Lucius wondered dimly if he had damaged the gorgeous young man weeks ago when forcing Harry to lick his floor. Lucius carefully pushed Harry back, the boy staring but making no move to resist. Doing his best to ignore the migraine that was threatening when being faced with the day glow orange nightmare of a shirt, Lucius placed Harry's arms behind his back and then bound them together with a spell. Harry almost immediately began to pant, back arching, eyelids lowering. The boy was beautiful.
“Do not move,” Lucius warned, Harry whimpering in reply. “Do not breathe. Stay absolutely still.” Giving the boy a moment to get himself under control, Lucius brought his wand up to the center of Harry's chest. Breathing deeply, he picked a different spot, the shoulder, just in case Lucius ended up burning the little hellion. They both watched, fascinated, as a small tendril of smoke appeared, followed by an ember only slightly brighter than the burning orange material. Black char suddenly circled out, racing over Harry's shoulder in a smooth ripple, revealing perfect tanned flesh beneath.
Lucius pulled his wand back, touching down to the other sleeve, listening to the boy gasp. “Be still,” he murmured, surprised by the sound of his own voice, his mouth dry, jaw tense. He repeated the spell on Harry's other shoulder, the short sleeve hanging loose afterwards. The next hole disconnected the collar from the destroyed sleeve. The two holes after that he flowed down the seam on Harry's side, the hem finally breaking way.
Silently tucking his wand away, Lucius met Harry's wide eyed gaze. With a brusque motion he tore the shirt from the boy's form, the shreds hanging off Harry's first shoulder breaking free with a rip. He threw the damn thing to the floor, vowing to destroy it later once he had dealt with the now shirtless, gasping thing in front of him. Just what the hell was he going to do to the damn brat?
“L-Lucius?” Harry whispered, breathless, lips swollen and wet from his constant, nervous gnawing.
“What, demon?” Lucius asked, fingers ghosting ever so softly over the boy's mouth.
Harry's eyes drifted down, staring at his hand. “If I... um... got on the floor right now... bent over... w-would you take me?”
Inhaling sharply, Lucius let his gaze wander to the glass and ceramic riddled kitchen floor. He spelled the mess clean, then pulled Harry forward by his chin. “Is that what you want? While you're still tied up?”
Green eyes searing into him, Harry nodded, pressing closer until his face was resting against Lucius's neck. “Please.”
Shuddering from the feel of Harry's breathing such a sweet, yet naughty word into his flesh, Lucius smiled, bright, happy and completely unaware. “I'll think about it,” he murmured, hands seeking out Harry's jeans and unbuttoning them.

Lying in bed, Harry peered over to the man breathing evenly beside him. Dawn was filtering in through the windows, tinting everything a cool yellow. Harry had woken up early, but not from a nightmare. No, Harry woke up early now because he liked to be able to wrap around Lucius while the man still slept, enjoying the warmth of his skin, the comfort of his presence while waiting for the eventuality of Lucius's arms to tighten and hold him closer.
Harry hadn't had a panic attack since the Dursleys. There had been a moment, once, Lucius smiling ever so brightly at him while they were strolling together the night of their first date. Harry had been certain that his breathing was going off kilter, just on the verge of lost completely. But he had stopped, shut his eyes, and very calmly asked himself what the hell was wrong with him. Apparently liking someone that liked him back was very difficult on Harry's body. Especially when Harry kept thinking he might more than like Lucius. Maybe actually love. It seemed worth the risk, and Harry had been able to calm down and enjoy the rest of their evening, smiles and all.
Wiggling underneath Lucius's arm, Harry pressed his back to the man's side, eyes lingering on the dark mark barely visible. The tutors were very good. Harry was probably learning more now than at Hogwarts, no longer competing with a room full of students for attention and focus. He was lonely at times, but Harry had always been good at entertaining himself. Hermione and Ron had written, and he had given them a very bland and edited account of where he was, and less of why. Harry planned to visit the Weasleys Christmas Eve and explain thing properly then. He was less ashamed of what he had done that night at the Dursleys, the more he learned control. The less Harry feared he might do it again, the more he could accept how he had needed to do it the first time.
Harry didn't think much of the Dursleys either. He felt safe in Malfoy Manor, safer than he had ever felt anywhere before. Even Hogwarts had held the promise of returning to the Dursleys. But here... Harry was certain Lucius would hex anyone that even suggested Harry had to leave, if not outright kill. And until Harry was of age, he was more than happy for it. Afterwards, Harry hoped he wouldn't depend on the man to be quite so ruthless in his safekeeping. There was something very sexy about it, though, and Harry felt he might not complain.
Burrowing further, eyes still alight on the strange, faded mark on Lucius's arm, Harry pressed his face into it, smelling the man's familiar scent. He lapped his tongue out, then latched on, sucking onto Lucius's flesh until a lovely purple welt formed.
“Biting... little... hellion...”
Harry had not been biting but did so now, just so Lucius would not be a liar and a crazy person. He smiled when he was suddenly pulled back, wrapped tight and warm in the man's strong arms, Lucius's chest pressing against his back. It was Saturday, and Lucius was taking Harry hunting for the first time. Lucius had taunted that Harry would have to take a pack full of just healing charms, but Harry had a feeling he'd be fine. Especially with Lucius there.
Eyebrow twitching, Lucius raised his arm up, looking at the hickey Harry had made right on top of the faded tattoo. Glancing Harry's way, the boy shrugged, fingers touching his fine work.
“Means you're mine now,” Harry whispered, feeling a little shy under that piercing silver gaze. Especially when the gaze became a familiar glare, Lucius's nostrils flaring and jaw tightening slightly.
“Oh, really?” Lucius purred, still full of sleep and wonderful raspy goodness. Harry shivered from the sound, turning in the man's arms so that they were facing each other.
“Well, I did bleed on you,” Harry reminded. He had actually bled on the man a lot of times since then, rarely on purpose. “We both know what it means when I bleed on—” Lucius cut him off with a hard kiss, crushing Harry into the mattress with his weight. Snickering, Harry let him, mouth quick to open to every tongue lashing the man wished to give.
“It seems I own the blue sitting room...” Lucius drawled between kisses to Harry's neck, “And the west living room—Which I despise for all of my grandmother's teacups... Oh, and the patio. I still own a patio in my own home.”
“I could probably take care of those teacups for you,” Harry offered, eyebrows wagging playfully.
Smiling brightly, Lucius suddenly got up, leaving Harry to follow with his eyes in dismay, panting heavily on the bed.
“Well?” Lucius said, riffling through his bureau for a pair of pants.
“Well what?” Harry asked grumpily as he watched the man's perfectly pale skin become covered in clothes. Yes the clothes were nicer than his work clothes, but Harry had been hoping for sex.
“You're not going to have enough time if you lie about.”
Sighing at Lucius being a crazy person, Harry sat up, hair sticking up on end. “It's the weekend. There's no reason to rush for...” He blinked, Lucius handing him his wand.
“Target practice. I believe you told me you were quite a good shot when things weren't moving.” Lucius was smiling very brightly, and Harry's heart kept flipping from the sight. “Come on, Potter,” Lucius prodded, pulling the boy up by his arms. “Those teacups won't break themselves.”
Oh. Harry grinned up at Lucius, taking in the man's playful smirk. Ohhh...
Wand whirling deftly between his fingers, Harry didn't bother looking for clothes. Lucius had a thing for Harry out of clothes just as much as in hideous ones. Harry was sure if he worked things right, he wouldn't need them anyways.
END

Author's Notes: Alright lovelies, that's the end of that. My first fic that wasn't magical creature—I know, totally a big deal for me. XD It's even sappy and romantic with only a hint of terrible violence. Also sort of a big deal seeing as I've been very rough and disliking sweet things lately. I want to thank you all for reading, along with the few kind souls brave enough to review and share your opinions. As a creative introvert, it's always nice to burst the solitude bubble and hear what other people think.
So I had to read through the whole thing to edit this and I have to say, it's pretty damn ridiculous getting to the end of chapter four when I find myself laughing aloud at Lucius. My god that man is neurotic! This was a damn fun fic to write. And the floor scene where Lucius is just tormenting Harry—I was worried it wasn't cute, but rereading, it's damn adorable.
I'm working on another Harry and Lucius fic but the dynamic is extremely different from this one. Hardly quirky, probably angst riddled if I'm honest about it, kinda dark, demented and fucked up. It'll be good in a very bad way... but just at the bones and not sure yet. Also rewriting an old Harry and Draco incomplete fic 'Magical Reflections' I recently took down from AFF because I just couldn't handle the cavity inducing sweetness of it and didn't want people to get any ideas that it would be similar once reposting the new version. (I might be in the depressive lull of the once chipper manic. XD) You'll probably see signs of those two fics once I finish up Intangible, which is getting to its final climax and wrap up. And of course, still poking at Sleeping Dogs II in my spare time.
Tesgura: Lol, I figured Harry had something fun hidden under there just waiting to match up to Lucius's crazy.
Severus1snape: Thanks hun. I am doing another of these two but I fear it really doesn't compare. I wish I wrote quirky more; it's fun results. I just haven't been feeling quirky enough to do it.
Starr: Unfortunately, blackmail doesn't work if you let the secret out. It's one of those balance games where if the pressure tips it all just kind of explodes in your face. I feel like Dumbly loses because he loses control over Harry. I always found the manipulation of people and will to be the most interesting and terrible thing about magic. Life can be stolen so easy, but bending people to your will—Very much true power, imo.
Anon: I know, a skittering Lucius is very squee inducing. XD
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The Slow Unintended Seduction Of Lucius Malfoy