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When Angels Deserve To Die	By : Anath Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 5885 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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.

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Title: When Angels Deserve To Die
Author: Anath de Malfoy
Pairing: Lucius/Draco
Summary: A wife and mother's coldness drives a father and son into each other's arms
Rating: NC-17
Warnings for this chapter: m/m sex, incest, chanslash
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine; they are J.K Rowling's. I'm just allowing them to have a little extra-curricular fun. Suing is therefore a waste of her time and mine, as I'm not profiting from this even one tiny bit.

Part 3: Requiem for Fallen Angels

[From the diary of Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Fourth Year]

I am writing this with what you could call mixed feelings. It feels so strange and sad, choosing not to go home for Christmas this year. I had to stay at school for the Christmas holidays in my second year because of all that nonsense with the Ministry of Magic raiding our Manor, which made it unsafe for me to go home as all eyes were upon my father, and something might have been noticed between us - but this is different. Everyone from fourth year upwards is expected to stay for this Yule Ball that's being put on because Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament (which is being held for the first time in a century), and to bring a dance partner of the opposite sex. I'm going with Pansy Parkinson, who's a good friend, though I have no romantic feelings for her. She was awfully glad I asked her to the Ball, because Warrington asked her best friend Millicent Bulstrode. (Speaking of Milly, I'd better remember to tell her to get something from Snape for Hecate, her horrible cat. That bloody animal's been shedding all over the place, even though it's winter!)

Of course, the only one I really want to be dancing with tonight is my beloved. If I close my eyes I can picture him so clearly - he always looks glorious in dress robes, especially the dark green silk ones embroidered with silver serpents. It would be so wonderful to waltz with him around and around the grand ballroom back at Malfoy Manor, beneath the glittering chandeliers. To drink champagne from crystal flutes together by the light of a thousand candles, staring spellbound into each other's eyes, then spending the rest of the night making passionate love. Just the thought of him makes my heart race and my hands tremble - it seems like I fall more in love with him with each passing day.

I wish I could be open about what I am feeling, like Crabbe and Goyle. They told me at the start of term that they're a couple; of course, they didn't realise that I've known that since we were first years. They were so adamant about not asking any girls to the Yule Ball...

"That daft old coot can stick it!" Crabbe had said forcefully as soon as the Ball was announced (he meant Dumbledore, of course, and I heartily agree with him) "I'm not going to that dance with anyone but Greg! So there!"

Christmas morning was all right, though not as good as being at home. I got lots of presents, as usual, including a set of solid gold Gobstones, the collapsible cauldron I've wanted for ages, a fascinating book about dragons (which I have to be very careful with, because some of the pictures can actually breathe fire) and a wizard doll of Salazar Slytherin himself, which carries a wooden staff that has a little silver snake wrapped around it. As the snake slithers up and down the staff, the doll actually speaks to it in Parseltongue! Everybody in the dormitory was speechless with wonder at the sight of it. I must admit it's a pretty amazing toy. But my favourite wizard doll is still my precious Lucius, given to me on that memorable day five years ago when I first properly kissed the man I love. I actually bring my Lucius doll to school with me every year, and the other students think nothing of it. To them, it's just a fancier version of the pictures they bring of their parents. The Lucius doll is sitting on my bed right now, giving Salazar, the newcomer, his best haughty stare. He is wearing midnight satin dress robes, one of the many new outfits my father bought for him this Christmas - clothes that are exact replicas of everything in my father's new winter wardrobe. It gives me great comfort to have the doll, but I'd much rather be with the man in whose image he was made...

Lucius. My lover, my life - that is the only way I can ever think of him now. Everyone knows that I love my father, yet nobody must ever discover how much, or it would ruin us both. It's such torture, being away from him when I would give my soul to be naked in bed beside him right now.

I know that he is thinking of me too, longing for me - knowing he is hurting is far worse than being in pain myself. At Christmas dinner in the Great Hall this afternoon, I was reminded of how much Lucius cares when an unexpected owl swooped in with a surprise delivery for me. I waited until I got back to the dormitory to open the package. Inside the parcel were a dozen long-stemmed red roses, enchanted to last for weeks, and a black velvet jewel box containing a magnificent cloak pin in the shape of a dragon, made from dazzling emeralds and white gold. Crabbe and Goyle gaped in amazement when they saw it.

"Is that from - you know - him?" Goyle asked in a low voice, and I nodded, smiling mysteriously. My best friends both know that I have a lover, and they respect the fact that I can't reveal his identity because he's an important adult wizard, and there would be a scandal if he was found having an affair with a boy my age. We Slytherins love intrigue! But I bet Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't be so accepting if they knew that my lover was also my father.

For me, however, belonging to Lucius is the most beautiful and natural thing in the world. No other wizard can compare with him. I can't keep tears from blurring my vision as I look at the gifts he sent me; so different from the Christmas presents he gave me as a loving parent. The cloak pin and the flowers are anniversary gifts, in memory of the Christmas night three years ago when he and I fully made love for the first time.

I shall sleep with the letter that came with the gifts under my pillow tonight. The love-letter in which Lucius pours out his soul to me, calling me his beautiful dragon, telling me how much he longs to hold me, to be inside me. It's so hard to keep from crying - I miss him so much! He has promised that as soon as possible he will arrange for us to stay together for a whole weekend at the finest hotel in Hogsmeade, and I can hardly wait.

And it is not just separation from Lucius that makes me feel so sad tonight. I'm also very worried about Mother, and how she becomes more cold and withdrawn from reality each year. I always thought that was just how she is, but I remember something I heard about a strange, incurable mental illness that one of her aunts, my Great Aunt Valeria, had. She ended up going insane and had to be shut up in St Mungo's Hospital - and her symptoms were exactly like Mother's...

Lucius says it's unlikely that Mother's going mad, and that if she does lose her mind, it may not happen for many years. But still, I worry. She's the only mother I'll ever have... luckily I have Lucius to love me and take care of me. He makes everything all right.

I'd better stop writing now, and go get ready for the ball.

[Lucius' POV]

Finally, the summer holidays are here and my beloved Draco is coming home. I have sent house-elves to the train station with a Portkey, so that Draco can return and find me waiting to greet him at the front door of Malfoy Manor in true romantic style, wearing the finest dress robes and the most expensive cologne I possess in his honour. I have sent Narcissa off to a Magical Doll Collectors' Convention in Germany, which should last for weeks, so that Draco and I can be blissfully alone together.

As soon as Draco materialises, I sweep him up in my arms; while the house-elves carry his trunks up to his room, I carry him up the stairs to my bedchamber, kissing him wildly all the way, as if he were a bride being lifted over the threshold. We waste no time, stripping off our clothes and caressing each other's bodies in a fever of desire. He has grown so much, has become taller and stronger than the little boy he was when I first bedded him; his frame is still slender, but more toned and taut than before, developing muscle from Quidditch and other physical activities. More silky hair covers the delta above his hardened cock than since I last saw him, and his voice sounds far more mature. He has always been the most beautiful of boys, and he will someday be a very beautiful man. I am almost faint from lust at the thought of that, and from how delectable he looks at this very moment as I press my erection against his own throbbing, seeping member, and we embrace, locking lips in a deep, hot, hungry kiss.

"Let me taste you," I finally whisper as we break apart for air at last. Moaning my name, Draco spreads his legs as I bend to kiss his lengthened young maleness and take it deep into my mouth, enfolding him with my tongue and my throat, giving him the sensual attention he has craved for so long as he grips the bedclothes with clenched fingers and screams for me. It doesn't take him long to fill my eager mouth with his seed in a heated rush, and I relish all of it, the delicious essence of my beloved.

"Please fuck me, Lucius," Draco begs as I lick his beautiful cock clean and lave the luscious sweat of his pleasure from his hot flesh. The sheer sweetness of his plea immediately has me crazed with want, and I sit up and lift him onto my lap, facing towards me; I reach for my wand, perform the lubrication charm, and enter him as he wraps his arms around me, riding my cock as I push upwards into his exquisite, velvety warm opening. Such tightness and perfection as I move at first slowly and gently within him, then faster and harder until I cannot stop my climax. I claim him with my seed, filling his young body completely as he surrenders to me with a rapture so intense he nearly swoons, crying my name aloud and coming a second time.

Panting, we rest awhile, lying entwined and murmuring endearments as we wait for our heartbeats to slow down and our lust to be inflamed again. I stroke my son's hair, kissing his temples, marvelling at his loveliness. I remind myself once more of how precious he is, and of what I must do to make sure that he remains mine always.

Firstly, there is my wife; I fully concur with Draco's opinion that she is withdrawing from us into madness. Full insanity may not descend upon her for two, five, or even ten years, but I believe it will come. When it happens, I must see that she is discreetly put away. Not in a dismal room at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, like her Aunt Valeria, but in a private clinic or a hidden wing here at the Manor with a hired nurse; a place where she can be with her beloved ornaments and dolls. Narcissa was never a loving mother or a dutiful wife, but she gave me my precious, darling Draco, and I honour her for that.

Secondly, there is the matter of the Dark Lord's return. Something I once fondly hoped for, but something I now realise is disastrous for Draco and myself. When my son is of age, it will be expected that he become initiated as a Death Eater, and it is likely that Voldemort will claim him as a sexual plaything, as he did with me. This I cannot allow - Draco is mine exclusively.

I have therefore been secretly talking with fellow Death Eaters - Macnair and Avery in particular - about how Voldemort seems to care more for his mad schemes and personal vendettas than for advancing the cause of pure-blood wizardkind. They agree with me, and soon I shall win more converts to my side. I have also been to see Dumbledore, offering my services as a double agent, which he was glad to accept (apparently Severus Snape is also serving in this capacity). I admit, it was extremely galling to have to sit at the old man's feet and pretend to sob with my head in his lap, "Oh, Albus, I never stopped loving you..." as if I were still a besotted youth with a schoolboy crush, but at least due to his advanced age I only had to give him some intense, devoted gazing and a caress or two. He, of course, cried with joy like the sentimental idiot he has always been, and kept running his fingers through my hair. He never could get enough of my hair, even when I was a child... oh well. Better a temporary alliance with a Mudblood-loving old fool than selling what's left of my immortal soul to a demented half-blood who can only lead my friends and family to destruction. Elderly gentlemen like Dumbledore have a convenient tendency to die quietly in their sleep when they are no longer useful... And when Voldemort is overthrown, thanks to my converted Death Eater friends and my new-found allies on the side of light, I shall assume the role of Dark Lord myself, using my patented brand of intimidation and seduction to convince others to follow me. An iron fist always functions better in a velvet glove - this is a lesson Voldemort never had the patience or the finesse to learn. Who better than a pure-blooded aristocratic Malfoy to rule the wizarding world? And Draco shall reign at my side, not only as my heir, but also as my consort. For all passions will become legitimate under my rule.

The era of Lord Voldemort is drawing to a close; the era of Lord Malfoy is soon to begin. And a grand and glorious era it will be. Let angels fall, and Dark Lords do as they will - so it has been for all time. And let all surrender to a force more powerful than magic in the end - the kind of divine love that I have found with Draco.

~ Fin.
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When Angels Deserve To Die