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The Night With Stars	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Lucius Views: 9544 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
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Chapter Three—Meetings in Tension

            “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.”

            Harry was the one who spoke, since he thought Lucius liked to preserve dignified silence for—some reason. For now, Lucius sat with his hands busy, both the thin china cup and the shallow saucer balanced in them, and watched Blaise Zabini with the polite attention he used on so many people.

            “You’re welcome.” Zabini leaned back in his comfortable chair, watching them in return with slow blinks. He had a room not decorated as darkly as Harry had thought it would be, given most of the other pure-blood homes he’d visited. Most people seemed to like silver and deep green and bronze. Zabini had rooms and furniture in seashell green and brilliant blue, and while there was some silver, it glinted and disappeared when Harry looked directly at it. The cushions beneath Harry’s arse had the largest amount of luxury in the place.

            “I have to admit a lot of it was curiosity,” Zabini added, and drew Harry’s attention away from his décor. “Harry Potter and Lucius Malfoy working together? This has got to be good.”

            He raised his eyebrows. Harry answered with a smile. “Yes, it is. I’ve persuaded Mr. Malfoy that pure-bloods are going to be outnumbered by Muggleborns soon, and this is the time for him to start cultivating them as allies.”

            “Really?”

            “Yes,” Lucius said, the first word he’d spoken since they entered Zabini’s house. He balanced the cup in the saucer again and looked at Zabini like a sphinx. “Mr. Potter has convincing statistics.”

            “He does?”

            Harry concealed his amusement. Zabini looked a little dazed. Of course, Harry had never even taken Arithmancy.

            But these two years since the war had changed Harry more than anyone else he knew. He folded his arms on the arms of the chair and said, “There are four hundred sixty-three children in Hogwarts this year. Do you know how many of them are Muggleborn?”

            Zabini, unlike some of the people Harry had met, did decide to make a guess. “A hundred and three?”

            Harry smiled a little. “One hundred and forty-six. The numbers of pure-blood children from traditional families, meanwhile—not children with one Muggle parent or one Muggleborn parent, which were most of the rest—were thirty-six.”

            Zabini gave a sharp cluck of his tongue. Then he sat there and thought, while Harry took the opportunity to sip from his cup. The tea felt hot and sticky in his mouth. Harry had taken the opportunity to send his magic into it the minute a house-elf brought it, removing any Compulsion Charms or the like that Zabini might have placed there.

            “And there will be more,” Harry added. “Pure-blood families usually only have one child, maybe two. A lot of Muggleborn students have siblings, or at least multiple cousins, who could also inherit magic.”

            Zabini paused again. Then he said, “There must be something you want to do about it, since you aren’t dancing in triumph on our families’ graves.”

            Harry nodded. “I don’t want to see Muggleborn children left in the Muggle world until they’re eleven, with no contact with magic, and no understanding, and then bad treatment when they do arrive.”

            “Like you had.”

            “Mine is an extreme case, since I doubt most families are that abusive.” Harry saw both Zabini and Lucius looking at him as if wondering how he could even discuss it, and smiled a little. The one advantage of going through what I did. Most things don’t hurt as much. “And people had other causes to disapprove of me on a wide scale, which most Muggleborn children won’t have, either. But being despised as people with ‘dirty blood’ won’t make them inclined to be merciful when they realize the advantage they have in numbers. Being taught to appreciate and love the wizarding world would.”

            Zabini abruptly smiled. “I like the way you put this, Potter.”

            Harry just smiled back. He never knew what people meant when they tried to explain to him about styles of speaking, because to him, the way he talked was just the way he talked. And common sense, but they didn’t mention that.

            “So.” Zabini twirled a ring around his finger that Harry hadn’t seen before. It was silver, but engraved with what might have been runes. “I suspect we need you to tell us what practical courses of action there are, since I can’t think of anything off the top of my head.”

            Harry nodded. “Start pushing for investigations into the families of Muggleborns immediately. Visit them and explain to them—and their parents—what magic is, and that their children aren’t unnatural or alone. Remove children who actually are suffering abuse, which, again, I suspect isn’t most of them. Soften the attitudes of pure-bloods towards Muggleborns and show them how they can make cultural descendants even if they can’t make blood ones.”

            Zabini put his chin in his hands. “I wonder what culture you’ll have left once you take out the hatred for Muggleborns.”

            “Comfort with magic,” said Harry instantly. “Pure-blood children grow up seeing their parents perform magic all the time, and common spells that don’t necessarily show up in classes at Hogwarts, because the Founders and the Board of Governors assumed children would learn them at home with their parents. Bits of lore about taking care of wands and getting along with magical creatures and the Ministry that I never learned until too late to be of use to me. History other than goblin rebellions.”

            “Ah. Another victim of Boring Binns.”

            “Exactly. The only history I know is what I found out on my own. And what Hermione showed me,” Harry added, because that was more than half of it. “And there must be all these stories and songs and proverbs and so on that pure-blood children know which I don’t. I have to admit I haven’t been patient enough to investigate those. My focus has been the magic.”

            “Understandably,” Zabini murmured, his eyes on the air around Harry.

            Harry finished, “Those are the things that I think pure-bloods can contribute, the wealth they don’t even realize they have. Those are the things I want them to teach Muggleborns, so our world doesn’t die and can go on.”

            Zabini studied him at his leisure. Harry found he didn’t know for sure what Zabini would say. At the same time, he was spinning the ring around his finger and he hadn’t denied them yet.

            Zabini finally said, “I don’t think my mother will be interested in this. She lives in Italy now, and the magical communities there are more isolated from the Muggle ones. They also don’t have as many Muggleborns.”

            Harry nodded. “Thank you for your time, then.” He started to stand, mind already moving on to Theodore Nott, who had agreed to meet with them next. Lucius had said he would be harder to convince—

            Zabini leaned out and laid a warm hand on Harry’s wrist. Harry started and looked at him. His touch felt strangely different from Lucius’s.

            “I said my mother wouldn’t be interested,” said Zabini. “I am.” He began to grin. “If only to see the expressions on some of the Wizengamot members’ faces.”

*

            “Let me take the lead here,” Lucius murmured, and stepped in front of Potter, tilting his head back to consider him for a moment as they Apparated into the palatial portico of the Notts’ home, Black Resting.

            “That’s fine,” Potter said, and dropped back behind Lucius. He paused. “Do you want me to play the part of fierce bodyguard? Or raging Muggleborn tide barely leashed?”

            Lucius laughed before he could stop himself. Potter stared at him.

            Lucius smiled, then. His chuckle had seduced people in the past—though, of course, rather to the Dark Lord’s side than his own. He would not be pressing on with Potter for a host of reasons, but it was reassuring to know he could still attract attention that way.

            Potter recovered and said, “You haven’t told me what part I should play.”

            “Neither. You should play the powerful wizard you are, who’s gracefully letting me take charge at the moment because I knew Theodore Nott well as a child and was good friends with his father.”

            Potter gave him a single thoughtful look, then nodded and stepped back again. He would never become unnoticeable, not with the air boiling behind him and white flames flickering out when he forgot to keep control of the magic, but he became less noticeable.

            Lucius knocked once. Black Resting shivered in response. The whole house was one tuned instrument, responding to the touch of someone who had visited in the past.

            Lucius had once sought to duplicate that magic on Malfoy Manor, but he had found out what it cost, and why Theodore Nott’s mother had died young. He folded his hands behind his back now, and waited.

            Young Theodore opened the door two minutes later. Black Resting would also have told him who was there, and this was not a task he would delegate to a house-elf.

            “Please come in, Lucius, and have guest-right of this house.” Theodore’s eyes went to Potter, and weighed him. Lucius waited. If Theodore simply meant to dismiss them, he would have sent a message to say so.

            “Come in, Potter.”

            Does Potter know what it means that he’s denied guest-right? Lucius wondered, slightly turning his head to the side as he stepped through the door.

            From the edge of the grin Potter wore, he did. And didn’t care. He didn’t have to, with his ability to defend himself.

            Theodore’s back was stiff in front of them as he paced down the corridor of staring portraits and gaping statues. Lucius forbore to look behind him. He was afraid he might lose control of his chuckle again if he did.

            They ended up in a large sitting room that faced the sunrise. The walls were less elegant than the walls of the simple room they had spoken to Zabini in, but Lucius appreciated the interweave of white and gold on them anyway. Theodore waved Lucius to one of the two chairs in the room, and took the other.

            Lucius had sat before he wondered what Potter would do. As it was, Potter simply began to wander around the room, head tilted back as if he wanted to admire the number of panes of glass in the window.

            Theodore stiffened when Potter glided behind his chair, but he was the one who had chosen this result. And Lucius had to admit to some curiosity to what would happen should Theodore be more unsettled than he was simply by receiving them.

            “Will you take refreshment?” Theodore asked Lucius. He hadn’t given guest-right to Potter, so technically he didn’t have to give him anything to eat.

            On the other hand, he also couldn’t prevent Lucius from sharing his food with Potter, if he wanted. Lucius was starting to think that might be interesting. “Yes. I would like a large cup of pumpkin juice and a smaller one of milk.”

            That got him a blank stare, but Lucius was as devoted to his own games as ever the Dark Lord had been. He stared back blandly, and Theodore finally turned and spoke the order at the fireplace. It would reach the kitchens from there, Lucius knew. Nott house-elves were ever awake and alert and listening for their masters’ orders.

            “Now,” said Theodore, turning back to Lucius. “I won’t ask you to get into business until you’ve finished eating, but I would like a hint of what you came to discuss with me.”

            “Of course,” said Lucius. “It is a subject that the Ministry has so far refused to act on, and which is dear to Potter’s heart.” He sat back and waited for Theodore to figure it out.

            Theodore sat up. He had attained an impressive height, but none of the lithe muscle Potter had to support his own. “This is about Mudbloods? No. I won’t listen. You’re not welcome in my house, Potter,” he added, turning his head so that he was facing him just as Potter paused to admire a black shell sitting on a bookshelf. “Get out.”

            Potter cocked his head. Lucius waited, wondering if Potter would loudly and perhaps fatally—to their cause—object, but he only looked as though he was wondering what Theodore was objecting to. “Very well,” he said, while flames briefly skipped across his shoulders. He strode towards the sitting room door.

            Lucius waited until Potter had nearly reached it, then stood himself. Half of politics was about timing.

            “Since my negotiating partner is not welcome here,” he told Theodore, “then I consider myself unwelcome as well.”

            Potter had paused. Lucius didn’t look at him. He would start to smile at either Potter’s expression or his own badly leashed amusement, and neither was effective in getting Theodore to pay attention.

            “I haven’t revoked your guest-right, though!” Theodore bobbed up and stared at him. “I didn’t mean you had to leave!”

            “But we came to you together. Why did you not think we would depart together?”

            Theodore stared at him without responding, before turning an angry step to the side and snapping a finger at Potter. “What did you do to him? The Lucius Malfoy I knew bowed to no one!”

            “Then perhaps you didn’t know that Lucius Malfoy very well,” Potter said calmly. He didn’t look at Lucius, either. His attention was focused past him, on Theodore. “He agreed to be my negotiating partner to try and change the wizarding world’s attitudes towards Muggleborns. I appreciate that.”

            Theodore shook his head. “I’ve heard that being around you can make people act—different. Not themselves. Sometimes Unspeakables talk about magic addiction. Would you know anything about that?”

            Potter’s flames grew perhaps a centimeter in size. Lucius said, his voice a shade too cool, “Thank you for doubting my ability to see when I am under magical influence and thinking that I would make decisions because of it, Theodore.”

            “I’m just trying to understand, Mr. Malfoy.” Theodore spun around to face him, the fastest and least graceful person in the world. “I know Draco would never forgive me if I didn’t at least ask you if you were all right!”

            “I am more than all right,” Lucius said, and moved away from the hand that Theodore tried to touch him with. “Thank you for proving that you’re not interested in changing the attitude pure-bloods have towards Muggleborns. That was all I was curious about.”

            “Me, as well,” said Potter, and nodded. “Let’s go, Lucius.” He started out again, and Lucius started after him.

            “They’re Mudbloods. Why do you care?”

            Lucius looked over his shoulder, answered, “Because I can see the shape of the future,” and continued walking.

            He heard Theodore’s quick footsteps behind him and sidestepped automatically, but he had thought Theodore was aiming for Potter. He didn’t expect the young man to skid to a stop in front of him and aim his wand.

            “I’ll prove that this isn’t you!” Theodore cried, and snapped out something that wasn’t the simple Finite Incantatem Lucius had thought it would be. “Conieco catenam!”

            The spell sped towards him, and Lucius knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid it. He also knew the sensation he would go through when it struck him was intensely painful. The Chain-Shattering Charm was meant to free a wizard from “unsavory influences”—and it would try to do so even when those influences didn’t exist.

            Then a shield manifested around him before the spell could hit. Lucius heard the hissing and spitting of what sounded like an enraged cobra, and he reeled back when the shield around him contracted inwards and focused around his skin. It brushed him with familiar heat.

            Lucius turned his head to meet Potter’s eyes, rather than Theodore’s, and saw his hand twitch a little by his side before he nodded.

            “The protective spells I put on my negotiating partner could have broken your wand,” Potter told Theodore. “I’m glad they didn’t, but you ought to consider before using magic like that.”

            Theodore backed a single step away, and then said, “Get out,” again, in a voice with no conviction.

            “We were,” Potter said. “Why you chose to prevent us from going, I don’t know.” He moved his shoulder once at Lucius, and then walked out the front doors, his magic softly snapping behind him.

            “I would consider political neutrality on this cause, rather than opposition,” Lucius told Theodore, and followed Potter. The sense of heaviness in the air, and the shimmer of heat, would have guided him even if he hadn’t known where Potter would inevitably walk.

            When they were outside, Lucius reached out and placed an arm in the air in front of Potter. Potter looked at him.

            “I know you didn’t place protective spells on me. I would have noticed you casting them.” Lucius knew that. After years of fighting in wars, he had cast a spell on himself that let him notice when a wand was pointing at him, even if it was from behind or the side.

            Potter smiled. “You’re right. I draped you in my magic instead, a few days ago, when I realized how useful you would prove.”

            Lucius blinked. He had no words. Control of raw magic distant from one’s body was uncommon, and perhaps only possible because Potter’s power snapped and growled around him like a barely tame pet anyway.

            “I thought you’d like to know,” Potter added, and held out his arm to Apparate Lucius to their next interview.

            A second later, Lucius took it. And if he watched Potter’s face rather than the way he drew his wand to Apparate them, well, that was his privilege.

            Rather like draping me in magic was his.



*

            phoenix-rob: The political first, as you can see.

            Harry’s friends are mostly going to be disbelieving. It’ll be harder for them than with some other political allies because of what Lucius has done in the past, specifically to Ginny.

            staar: Thank you!

            FerrahLee: Thanks very much. I think that neither Lucius nor Harry is going to be captivated by beauty alone, so they’ll need other features.

            lusting_for_snape: Thank you!
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The Night With Stars