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Lost	By : Maeglin Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2946 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 1-Lost
- 1
Lost
by Maeglin Yedi

Pairing: HP/LM
Rating: R
Warning: Slash (male-male relationship) Mild chanslash, nothing explicit.
Disclaimer: all the characters from Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I just play with them once in a while.
Archive: http://forever-rebel.net/maeglinyedi
Feedback: most welcome, maeglin.yedi@lycos.nl
Summary: Harry feels lost. So does Lucius. Sequel to Fragile.
A/N: Although Fragile was meant to be a one shot, I couldn’t get the little fic out of my mind and kept coming up with more...so here’s the sequel. Also meant as a one shot. If you haven’t read Fragile, I recommend that you do, otherwise this may not make a lot of sense to you.
Lucius looked at the Angel that was standing in the middle of the entrance hall of his family home. A fragile looking Angel, too pale, too skinny, too young, too innocent.
The boy was holding on to his trunk with one hand, and he held an owl cage in his other hand. Dressed in those horrid oversized Muggle clothing that were hanging of his body like giant leaves of a Weeping Willow. Untamable black hair, and empty green eyes that were staring at him from behind round spectacles.
"Why did you bring me here?" the boy asked, and Lucius kept his face expressionless although his thoughts raged through his mind like an autumn storm. Why had he brought the boy here? Why had he told the boy to collect his things? And why had the boy done so willingly? Why had the boy followed him without any fear or doubt when Lucius had apparated them to Malfoy Manor.
"Why did you come with me?" the older Wizard finally asked, trying to avoid the boy’s question because he had no answer to it. He did not know why he had brought the boy here. All he knew was that he wanted to keep this child away from life. Away from death.
The boy decided to avoid his question as well by asking Lucius yet another question.
"Are you going to hand me over to Voldemort?"
Lucius smiled at that question. He knew the answer already but he felt reluctant in sharing it with the boy.
"Do you want me to?" he asked softly while he raised his eyebrows. The boy bit his bottom lip into his mouth, and looked thoughtful for a few moments. Lucius inwardly gasped when he realized that the child actually had to think about the answer he was going to give him.
"No."
It wasn’t much more than a whisper but the boy’s eyes looked determined.
So he chooses life, Lucius thought, while he gestured for the boy to follow him.
****************************
The child seemed to drown in the large guest chambers that Lucius had led him to. A pale, fragile Angel surrounded by mahogany furniture, dark green tapestries, and blood red carpet. Lucius barked orders at his house elves, telling them to get the boy a decent meal, gather some clothes from Draco’s extensive wardrobe, and put away the boy’s belongings.
Lucius ignored the soft voices that were whispering warnings inside his head. Whispering that if his Master found out that he kept the boy here without his knowledge, he would probably pay for it with his life. And yet, Lucius had no intention to let anyone know the boy was here.
He led the child to a small dining table in the corner of the large, dimly lit room, and gestured for the boy to sit. He did so reluctantly and stared up at Lucius with questioning eyes. The boy had as many questions as Lucius had about what was going on.
Lucius sat down opposite the boy, and watched as two house-elves put several plates filled with the most luxurious food in front of his newfound Angel.
"Eat."
Soft-spoken words, yet still an order.
The boy picked up the silver fork, and poked some of the vegetables while he stared at his plate silently. Suddenly he looked up, and met Lucius’ eyes without any hesitance.
"Are you going to kill me now?"
Lucius blinked at that blunt question, and felt his lips twitch up in something that resembled a smile. The boy sure wasn’t scared to ask questions he wanted answers to.
"No child. I won’t kill you now," Lucius answered patiently, and that seemed to satisfy the boy for that moment. He returned his attention to his plate, and started eating slowly. Lucius observed the boy while he took his time to select the items of food he put in his mouth, and he chewed everything carefully, as if he tasted food for the very first time.
They both kept silent throughout the child’s meal. Lucius sat back, his face expressionless like he usually kept it, and the boy concentrating on his meal with a slightly furrowed brow. It was a comfortable silence, for as far as silence can be comfortable, especially if it is shared between a Death Eater and the Boy-Who-Still-Lived.
When the child put his fork down, and looked up at Lucius expectantly, the older Wizard got up, and without a word gestured the boy to follow him. He picked up the satin nightgown the house-elves had selected for the boy, and handed it to him.
Without looking at his host, the child slowly shed his oversized clothes, and Lucius inwardly gasped when he saw the frail frame that was revealed in the process. How could that old fool Dumbledore treat his prize possession like that? How could someone, anyone, surrender an Angel to the mercy of Muggles who did not care about his well-being? If the boy were his, he would make sure he was fed well, wore the best and most expensive clothes, and was looked after 24 hours a day. Because an Angel like this child deserved nothing less.
The satin nightgown reflected the dim lights in the room, and accentuated the boy’s pale features even further. Lucius pulled back the dark green, silk duvet, and gestured for the boy to lie down in the four-poster bed. When he did so, Lucius tucked the duvet around him, and carefully took the child’s glasses from his face. The boy gave him a small, almost shy smile, and Lucius admired the naked face that was staring up at him. Big, green eyes that were still empty, and pale cheeks with a light blush. A most attractive combination, and Lucius swallowed unconsciously. Inappropriate thoughts invaded his mind, and he quickly dismissed them. He did not bring the boy here to indulge himself in personal fantasies concerning Dumbledore’s most prized possession. He still wasn’t sure what the real reason was he had brought the boy home with him, but fantasies that stirred his groin weren’t part of the reason. Or so he told himself.
Lucius gently pushed a stray lock of black hair off the child’s forehead, and was rewarded with yet another shy smile. They stared at each other for a long time before the boy asked him another question.
"What guarantee do I have that you won’t change your mind and kill me anyway?"
Lucius smiled when he listened to the boy’s soft voice. A genuine smile, reflecting his admiration for the bravery the child possessed. Not many fourteen year old boys could stand up to his Lord, and live to tell the tale. And not just once, but several times. This fragile boy, surrounded by satin and silk was a lot stronger than he looked.
"You don’t have any guarantee," he told the boy softly and honestly. "Rest now, child."
*********************************
The clear liquid in the crystal glass reminded Lucius of the sun’s morning rays on a mountainside in the North of France. He had indulged himself in one of his more inappropriate habits.
A glass of Chablis, 1981. A fitting year for a Muggle concoction.
He studied the wine while he sat in his comfortable leather chair in his own private rooms. The fire in the hearth burned steadily, warming both the room and him with the heat radiating from it. He brought the glass to his lips slowly, and sipped the liquid, letting it invade his mouth, and roll over his tongue.
A unique taste, fruits mixed with spices, yet light and soft. He swallowed it, satisfied by the slight sting it caused his throat while it passed through. He closed his eyes, and leaned his head back. He let the taste of fruit and flowers, spices and herbs, penetrate his whole being. It was not easy for Lucius to give himself over to something, but the mere taste of a sweet, white wine, was enough for him to do so.
As was the sight of a fragile looking boy surrounded by flowers.
He snapped his eyes open, and stared into the flames of the fire in front of him. What was he to do with the boy? Bringing him here had been easy, but coming up with a plan for the future steps he should have to take made Lucius feel slightly lost. He wasn’t one for rash actions, and yet he had behaved thoughtless that evening by straying from his Lord’s path, and interact with the boy in a completely inappropriate way. Not to mention the fact that he had not only not killed the boy when he had the perfect opportunity to do so, but had brought the boy home with him as well.
It would be easy to keep the child here, in his own home. His wife and son were spending their holiday in their Mansion in the south of France, so they would not disturb him. But then what? What would or should happen after the summer ended and the boy was expected to go back to Hogwarts? What would that old meddling coot say if he knew that Lucius had been taking care of the boy?
Or more importantly, what would his Lord say if he knew Lucius had been taking care of the child instead of torturing him, killing him, handing him over to him. And not specifically in that order.
Why was he taking care of that boy in the first place? Why had he indulged himself in yet another inappropriate habit? Why did he want to admire the child, study him, and perhaps even taste him as he would a fine Muggle wine?
Lucius told himself that now was not the time to decide on both his own and the boy’s faith. He still had time before he would be forced to make a decision. And until then he could indulge himself in his newfound Angel. Study him. Admire him. Taste him. Let his unique scents invade his mouth, and roll over his tongue. And perhaps give himself over to the boy’s youth and innocence while he could.
He brought the fine crystal glass to his lips once more, and smiled when the clear liquid made its way into his mouth and down his throat. Oh yes. Lucius would indulge himself in the boy as if he were a fine wine. And when the bottle would be empty, he would decide where to leave it after all.
*****************************
The dying flames in the hearth produced dancing shadows on the ceiling and Lucius stared at them while he was lying in his bed, waiting for sleep to come.
A soft knock on the door startled him, and he sat up slightly. The door to his bedroom opened, and a pale face with empty green eyes stared at him.
"I couldn’t sleep," the boy told him softly while he closed the bedroom door, and stepped closer to Lucius’ bed.
"I always sleep alone but tonight I felt lost all by myself," the boy said while he fidgeted with the buttons on his satin nightgown. Lucius looked at him, and couldn’t help but smile. He had planned to indulge himself in the child soon. Treat him properly, perhaps even win his trust. And then, when he would have the right temperature, pop the boy’s cork, and taste what lay beneath.
But now the child practically offered himself out of his own free will. As if someone was presenting Lucius that forbidden wine in a crystal glass on a silver platter. How could he possibly refuse?
Lucius sat up, and pulled his black, silk duvet back in a silent invitation. The boy accepted and crawled under the covers next to him. They both lay down and looked at each other. Two pale figures surrounded by black silk and dark satin. Two souls who had felt lost only moments ago. One soul indulging himself in yet another inappropriate habit, and one soul seeking comfort, perhaps even peace, in the arms of a most unlikely savior.
Lucius let his long fingers glide through the thick, black hair and shifted closer to the frail Angel in his bed. His fingertips wandered across the pale skin of the child’s face, and cool, calculated gray eyes stared into empty yet slightly hopeful and definitely insecure green ones. Lucius wrapped his other arm around the thin form, and pulled the boy closer until their bodies touched and their faces were mere inches apart. It was only a short distance he had to cover when he brushed his lips across the boy’s. A soft gasp was his reward, and he smiled when he kissed the child again.
Such sweet lips met his a little more confident the second time, and their kiss lasted, deepened, and drew a soft moan from the boy besides him. Lucius let the taste of innocence, youth, and inexperience wash over him, and invade his whole form. The boy was perfect, in his own fragile, innocent way, and Lucius knew he would enjoy every last bit of his newfound Angel for as long as he could. A hesitant tongue met his, and Lucius guided it, instructed it and indulged himself in it.
Soft hands caressed his body through his nightgown, and Lucius again admired the boy’s bravery. Inexperienced as he might be, the child wanted to learn. And Lucius would be more than willing to instruct him.
The boy drew back to gasp for breath, and Lucius let his lips wander across the soft skin of the child’s face. The boy pressed his own lips against Lucius’ neck while Lucius buried his nose in the child’s black hair. A unique scent, fragile flowers in a spring breeze, made Lucius wonder how the rest of the boy would smell and taste. He inhaled deeply, and felt content with this first taste of his new prize. After all, a fine wine is to be treasured, tasted calmly and delicately.
"I should probably be afraid of you."
Lucius smiled at the boy’s words. How wise for his age and how perceptive of the situation. Lucius knew he would not be able to fool the child but perhaps the boy would be brave enough to face the truth.
"Yes, child," he said, inhaling his Angel’s unique and alluring scent again. "You probably should."
~~fin~~
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