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The Slow Unintended Seduction Of Lucius Malfoy	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Lucius Views: 37407 -:- 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
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Chapter Nine
“I don't care! We can't just leave him there!” Draco had stopped his silent crying minutes ago, bursting free of the room Harry had been sleeping in to seek his father out and argue all over again.
Lucius let him, knowing it was all his son had at the moment.
“His uncle hurt him. Bad! Things that didn't scar. Things that broke inside, and made it so Harry couldn't fucking walk straight afterwards. Even now, he keeps knocking into shit, misjudging things around him. It's because of that terrible man!”
Sitting in his study, Lucius poured two small drinks, pushing one over to Draco when the boy ran out of steam for a moment and looked about ready to cry again. Draco took the glass with trembling hands, sipping slowly and screwing his face up from the taste. “You didn't see him last year, Father. Didn't see him on the train, fucking broken. He wouldn't tell me what happened. Said it was an accident—And he refused to go to the medi witch. Like it had been something shameful, instead of just a terrible act of violence inflicted upon him. That man made him think he deserved it, and that's why he never fought back.”
Draco gulped the rest of his drink in one swallow, leaving the glass on the desk. “What's going to happen to him? He has no one there... No one cares about him there.”
“I do not know.”
“He has no right!” Draco suddenly shouted, fist slamming down on the desk. “Fucking Dumbledore—That he knew! Fucking knew! And still made Harry go back. He's not Harry's guardian. He's fucking nobody. I don't know why Harry listens to him. He lets that man manipulate him.”
Lucius nodded in agreement. “Albus is the closest thing to a father that boy has. Harry wants the man to be proud of him, even if it's just by staying quiet about how he was hurt.”
“It's wrong. Bloody wrong, and I want to do something!” The tears again, just glinting at the edge of Draco's eyes. Draco had not been one for crying, not for years now. It had always confused Lucius to see young people cry, but then, he had created an environment where his son would not be punished for such displays.
“He asked us to stay away,” Lucius reminded stiffly, his heart still clenching at the memory.
“That's because he doesn't want us hurt!” Draco snarled, scrubbing his eyes with the back of his hand furiously. “That's how he always fucking is—He'll take every goddamn pain in the world, just as long as no one else has to ever feel bad. He's a fucking martyr, through and through, the idiot.”
It made Harry feel stronger, to protect people when he was so helpless. Lucius knew because he had been the same way. Then Lucius had learned how strong it felt to hurt people when feeling helpless, and that had been even better.
“Please, Father. Please fix this,” Draco whispered, eyes large and red rimmed. “You always fix everything. Use all that power and influence, and fix this.”
Lucius considered his options idly, having already gone down this road a million times in his head. “I have no leverage against Albus, except the situation at hand. Harry would never turn on him, Draco. He would never tell an inquiry that his mentor left him in such danger. He didn't even tell you. It would mean dozens of aurors and wizards walking through that house, upsetting his uncle for hours on end. And then Harry would still be forced to stay.”
“Then we take him away! We can run away!”
Lucius shook his head. “Remember who he is. No one might think twice about the boy-who-lived ending up with a few bruises, but when he doesn't show up for school because of an ex-Death Eater—And Albus will surely let that slip. We will be hunted down. Our name ruined. Our assets frozen.”
“I don't care! Just kill them, Father!” Draco shouted, both hands now slamming on Lucius's desk.
Lucius finally reached for his drink, swallowing it down with a quick motion. If he was shocked that his son had so little value for life, it was only because he knew how much Draco cared for his friend.
“Dumbledore knows that I've been there. The wards might actually work in a way to keep me out. And then what? Harry still can't run. Eventually someone will notice that his relatives aren't showing up for work, and the authorities will be called. Harry might be arrested by the muggles. Incarcerated.”
Draco made a whining noise in the back of throat, frustration and anxiety warring on his face. “You're doing this on purpose!”
“Draco...”
“No! He never meant anything to you!” Draco hissed vindictively, pulling away before Lucius's hand could reach his wrist. “You just wanted to fuck him. And now that you've had your fill, you're going to leave him to be beaten by those terrible monsters! If you cared about him at all—”
“I do care,” Lucius said softly.
Draco shook his head, unbelieving. “Then fix it!” He slammed the door as he left, Lucius raising a brow as a picture fell off the mantel from the force.

Lucius sat in his study till dawn, listening to the clock tick while ruminating. He should mind his own bloody business. He had no legal stock in anything to do with Potter. Maybe Sirius, being godfather to the boy. But Black had escaped when Bellatrix had, and Black had not stayed around to tempt the aurors. Even then, the convict's parental rights would be a question, given he was supposed to be in jail.
Potter had told him to stay away. He didn't want things to be worse than they already were.
Lucius had told a young man that once, a lifetime ago. He had glared, and spat, and cruelly spurned his lover away after the third and final lashing of his flesh. It was much easier to blame his heart—his weak, pathetic heart—than face his father, a man so powerful Lucius used to tremble just to think of him. There had been a time when Lucius had been grateful to be under the protective arm of Voldemort. There had been power to gain there, knowledge to learn so that Lucius could finally break free of his father permanently. Lucius had gloried in the horrors he had committed because, for once, they were not being inflicted on him.
But Riddle had been even more demented than Lucius's father. It wasn't pride and the need to control that had driven Riddle. It had been a sick hurt, worse than anything Lucius had allowed to fester in his own still living heart. While Lucius had finally faced his demons, Riddle had become one, tearing through anyone and thing that reminded him of what had been done to him. He had been pure hate, maddened and desperate for more. And of all the lines Voldemort had crossed, injuring Harry Potter had been the one the apathetic gods had finally struck him down for.
The boy. The maddening, beautiful boy. Alone. Surrounded by those that saw him as nothing more than a monster. Monsters begot monsters. Lucius knew. He had done everything to grow a soul before Draco was born. He had promised to never do what his father had done.
But he was allowing it, by the hands of another, lesser man than he. On a boy so beautiful, so pure, the angels must weep at every blow.
Silence was what allowed the Vernon Dursleys of the world the power they had. The uncle was not a strong man, by any means. He had no great wealth. No amazing talent that set him above the rest. He had bred, like most animals did, and worked to provide—From what Lucius had heard that had not been a success. Vernon had been given an amazing gift. A child of unimaginable power, with the ability to love, had been placed on his doorstep. And Vernon had detested him. He had thrown so much hate upon him, the boy had become quiet and small. And when that wasn't enough, when still Harry had insisted on existing, the man had raised his fist.
Maybe he would write a letter... Something to the Minister of Magic. Did Fudge know what was happening to his Golden Boy? Fudge hated Dumbledore with a passion. Lucius had no leverage, but maybe the Minister did.
Decided, Lucius opened the top drawer to his desk. He froze, eyes catching on something inside. Fingers twitching, he carefully picked up the teabag sitting innocently on the top of his papers. Harry had drawn a little cartoon of a tooth... or maybe a blob. The boy was a terrible artist. Lucius sighed deeply, flicking the paper tag over, again and again, the string curling tighter and tighter in mirror to his nerves.
Need was a terrible feeling. While want could be pursued, and desire would always find its way, need... need was merciless. Need demanded sacrifice, if not in action, than in spirit. When you thought you had given all it would ask—as Lucius had hoped while sitting in his study, giving up the pretty young man that would only bring chaos to his life—that was when need demanded again. Lucius would not survive this need. It was too deep, too integral, too reminiscent of his past, and revealing of just how stagnant his current existence was. If Lucius did not give in to this need, he would fade away, dull and dusty, without anything left inside.
Harry needed someone. Someone powerful. Compassionate. Brave. Lucius was a coward. He had always done everything in his power to preserve himself. Even his acts of courage had been to stay alive, stay whole.
It was good that Lucius needed so deeply. He knew he would not be able to sacrifice otherwise.
He stood abruptly, going to the hallway to pull out his black cloak from the closet. Draco was in the kitchen, hunched over the repaired table, holding something in his hand. It was Lucius's mask. Huffing in annoyance, he plucked it from the boy's grasp. “This is not a toy. Nothing you should ever wear.”
“It wasn't for me,” Draco muttered, glancing up at his father, his eyes still rimmed in red.
Lucius sighed, banishing the skull away. “This is not something one does in the shadows. It is not a crime to help him. But I will be punished for it still.”
“But you are going to help?” Draco asked with a sniff, sitting up straighter.
Lucius nodded once, his eyes moving over the kitchen idly. It was strange to be up so early without Harry there, terrible colors and sipping tea. Lucius had not realized how familiar it had become until fearing it would be gone forever.
“Your mother is ill, Draco. She didn't want me to tell you until you had finished school. But now...” Lucius looked down at his son, Draco blinking back in surprise. “Don't get me wrong, she's still very much hateful when it comes to the classes, and I fear she has been out hurting people. But she left because she did not want you to watch her die. She loves you very much. As much as she is capable of, with her being so confused.”
Draco licked his lips, studying his hands quietly. Lucius thought maybe he wanted to say something, but Draco never did, and Lucius eventually left.
Narcissa had been allowed her insanity. She had paid her dues as society had demanded of her. She had married a wealthy, albeit gay, man, produced an heir, and had even contributed to the strengthening of her community in the only way she had been taught. By torturing muggles. She had stayed with her gay husband, raising their son and accepted Lucius's new, if be it backwards, desire to allow muggles within their society as long as the right precautions were placed. And then she had been diagnosed with cancer, and had decided it was time to take her life for herself. Lucius had not fought her once.
Lucius did not desire to be insane. But he did need one impossible thing. Hopefully he would be allowed it.
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The Slow Unintended Seduction Of Lucius Malfoy