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No Better Seduction	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Lucius Views: 4295 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-No Better Seduction
- 1
Title: No Better Seduction
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairings: Harry/Lucius
Content Notes: Mild angst
Wordcount: 5500
Rating: R
Summary: Harry is a disgrace to the Ministry galas and the new Minister—who can be very charming—has coaxed him into taking dance lessons with Lucius. Lucius thinks there is no better seduction than whirling together on the dance floor.
Author's Notes: This is another of my Advent fics for nia_kantorka, who asked for Harry and Lucius dancing together.
No Better Seduction
"Minister."
Trajan Gray spent a moment eyeing Harry, and then sighed and pushed himself back in his chair, hooking his feet under the edge of the desk. "Why the long face, Harry? You know exactly what I'll ask you to do."
"That's why the long face." Harry flopped into the chair across from the Minister's desk, scowling. Trajan smiled at him, and didn't let it go even in the face of Harry's scowl.
Then again, Minister Gray got along with everyone. It was one reason he had won the election.
"I just don't see," Harry started, when some minutes had passed and Trajan was content to beam at him and do nothing else, "why I have to attend the Ministry galas if I can't dance. I could, you know, just not go."
"Now, Harry, you know your presence is important. People who opposed the Death Eaters feel comfortable with you there. The pure-bloods who are still in positions of power admire you for your power and trust you not to plot against them by now. We always have fewer brawls when you're there."
"Then let me be just a guard Auror! I can prop up a wall a lot better than I can dance!"
"Yes, I know. That's why I'm sending you for dance lessons."
"I didn't mean..."
"I know you didn't mean." Trajan's voice softened for the first time. He was a dark-haired man with hazel eyes that made him look far younger than his actual age, and he leaned forwards and patted Harry's hand. "But what you've got to understand is that I'm thinking of you, too. The usual ridiculous gossip is starting to swirl about why you won't dance. I've heard everything from a broken heart to you being too busy conspiring with enemies of the Ministry to learn something so simple."
"That's ridiculous!"
"Well, yes, I told you it was."
Harry sighed and let his head fall back against the chair. He knew Trajan was trying to help. He had a far more cordial relationship with Kingsley Shacklebolt's replacement than he would ever have imagined was possible. But he still hated the thought of going for dance lessons, and especially with the teacher Trajan had chosen.
"Wouldn't a woman be better? I mean, presumably I'm going to be dancing with women at these galas."
Silence. Harry looked up and found Trajan giving him the most unimpressed look Harry had seen outside of Hermione when she found out Harry didn't intend to return to Hogwarts for his NEWTS but take them privately.
"How could you think I would ignore the truth? Even if other people think a woman is going to 'reclaim' you someday?"
Harry winced. He'd come out as gay when Kingsley was still in office. Of all the possible reactions a new Minister could have, scolding Harry for denying his identity wasn't one of them.
"I just meant...I mean, fine, I'll be dancing with men if I dance at all." Trajan nodded and gave him that huge smile again, and Harry couldn't help striking as hard as he could at a vulnerable spot. "But Lucius Malfoy isn't gay, so why would he agree to tutor me?"
"I have no opinion or knowledge of what Lucius Malfoy is attracted to in people. But he is attracted to large amounts of money, and that's what I've offered."
"Trajan, you didn't have to--"
"There was a budget assigned to rebuilding that monstrosity of a fountain in the Atrium. No one wanted it actually built. So I took the money, and it doesn't bother anyone now." Trajan smiled at him again. "He's willing to do it."
"He was on the opposite side of the war!"
"Now he's trying to spread the rumors of being under the Imperius Curse again. I don't think it's going to work, but you have to admire his tenacity."
"He was married!"
"So were you."
Harry groaned a little. His marriage had been short-lived and was one of his least favorite memories. And yet it was hard to even resent Trajan for bringing it up, not when he was so bloody concerned all the time.
"Yes, fine. But if he doesn't want to teach me, or if he makes some insulting remarks about my friends, I'm leaving."
"Don't worry," said Trajan, with the smile he used when he'd got his way, which meant Harry saw it a lot. "I'm fairly certain he'll only insult your dancing."
*
"How can someone so graceful on a broom know nothing about how to move around a dance floor?"
At least Trajan was right about him only insulting my dancing.
Harry bent down, wheezing, and didn't answer. Malfoy stood in the middle of the dance floor, staring at him. They were in one of those rooms at the Ministry that could essentially be converted into anything with the movement of a few items of furniture and three wand flicks--not as convenient as the Room of Requirement, but nearly.
This one now had a huge floor that alternated squares of black and white, and blank banners on the walls that mimicked the ones that would hang at a gala. It made Harry feel like he was dancing on the huge chessboard McGonagall had set up to protect the Stone. He blamed that for his distraction.
"I am waiting for an answer."
Harry rolled his eyes and straightened. "Because I'm not used to the movements in dancing? I am on a broom."
"My son told me that you had never been on a broom the first time you flew. You simply found a natural grace in yourself. Find that same grace to make this tutoring easier."
Harry stared at Malfoy. "Malf--I mean, Draco told you about that?"
"It was hardly a secret that would have decided the war."
"Yes, but I would have thought he wouldn't compliment me to you."
"He talked a tedious amount about you his first year," said Lucius in a drawl. "I am beginning to see the source of his tediousness." He twitched his wand, and the music playing in the background changed, to something Harry thought was a waltz-gavotte-tango, or something, He didn't bother to keep the kind of music played at these parties straight in his head. "Now, come," Lucius said, and extended his hand.
Harry sighed and walked over to Lucius. He supposed it wasn't terrible, the way they spun around the floor with their robes flying behind them. In a different context, he would even have said it was sort of fun.
But he couldn't keep the steps straight. The only times he managed to dance gracefully were when Lucius led. And half the time he was trying to spin or something when Lucius was supposed to be the one doing it, and then he would stand still when he was supposed to spin.
"It is like dancing with a statue," Lucius snapped, breaking away.
"I told you I wasn't good at this!"
"You are not letting yourself be good at this." Lucius paced around him, and Harry turned to face him automatically. Lucius made the most disgusted noise Harry had ever heard a tongue produce, and clamped his hands on Harry's shoulders, holding him still. Harry fumed, but held still as Lucius again paced around him.
Fine. Let him look at my arse. It's not like that will actually give him any answers about my dancing ability.
"As I thought," said Lucius, suddenly enough that Harry jumped. "You have plenty of muscle and litheness--"
"Is that a word?"
Lucius's hands tightened briefly on his sleeves, but otherwise he kept speaking as if he hadn't heard. "You simply are not relaxing enough to trust the music and me."
"Have you forgotten how stupid trusting you would be?"
"We are not at war now, Mr. Potter." Lucius halted in front of him and stared directly into his eyes. "You will trust me. This is what I have been paid for, and I am not going to lose my commission. Look at me."
Harry did, reluctantly. It wasn't like Lucius wasn't handsome, although Harry's taste had never run to blonds. And he supposed the white dress robes were handsome enough; they didn't wash Lucius of all color the way Harry thought they would have done to some other men. It was more that, no, Harry couldn't relax around him. He never wanted to do so. He could laugh with the other men he'd dated, enjoy a joke, even make an obscene comment and get back a blush.
Lucius was--
Not someone I'm dating, Harry realized suddenly, and lifted his head. "If I think of you as a teacher..."
"As you should have been doing all along."
"Even one of the ones who tried to kill me," Harry continued thoughtfully, "that should work." He stepped forwards with his arms extended, and Lucius promptly reached out and adjusted their position.
Harry rolled his eyes, but let Lucius do as he would. It did feel more fluid, now that he was thinking of this as a teaching situation, just like the classes he'd had at Hogwarts, or the Auror training classes. And when Lucius started the music again and tugged him along the floor, he went much more gracefully.
"You need not," Lucius whispered to him at one point.
"Hmmm?" Harry was struggling to master the steps of the complicated dance, and looking mostly at the floor.
"Think of me exclusively as a teacher."
Harry jerked his head up, cheeks hot, and stumbled over Lucius's foot. Lucius rolled his eyes and swept Harry in another circle.
"On the other hand, perhaps that would be best for now."
*
"You're doing much better."
Harry nodded and looked around the ballroom again. This time, it had been decorated in red and gold colors. He wondered if that was Lucius's little jab about him being a Gryffindor, or if it was maybe the colors of the next Ministry gala.
Lucius ought to know, with as much time as he spends at things like that.
"Are you listening to me?"
"You said I was doing much better now. I didn't know that I needed to gush back at you about compliments."
Lucius said nothing. Harry faced him in time to see him pinching the bridge of his nose and drawing in a breath that must have bottomed out in his lungs.
"You still need to work on manners," said Lucius abruptly. "One thing Minister Gray told me is that you frequently spend the bulk of the party time against the wall, scowling at everyone who tries to approach you and nursing a Firewhisky."
"I did that mainly because I couldn't dance! Now that I know I can, I'll be doing that instead!"
"Nonetheless, there are still social niceties you can learn." Lucius stepped up beside him and stared commandingly down into his eyes. Harry tried to ignore the squirming in the bottom of his stomach. "For example, how do you enter a room?"
"I come through the door."
Lucius gave another sigh that seemed to come from the bottom of his stomach. "Very well. I will rephrase the question. Do you come in and nod to your friends? To important Ministry officials? Or do you make eye contact and smile at them? Do you circulate before you go and get yourself a drink, or do you do that first?"
"That has to do with things that happen when I'm already in the room, not coming in!"
Again Lucius fetched up a sigh. "But you've never thought that they're all connected? That the actions you take when you enter and when you're in a room make you appear all of a piece to Ministry officials?"
"All of a piece of what? Surely the best thing I can remind them of is my ability to blast them to small pieces?"
Lucius made such a show of rolling his eyes that Harry stared in fascination. He got the impression it wasn't a show Lucius often indulged in.
"No, you can remind them that you're a human being." Lucius spoke with quiet intensity, pacing forwards until he was just in front of Harry. "Why do you think Minister Gray speaks so often with such a charming smile, and makes people laugh? It encourages them to see him as more than only the Minister. Why do you think he wanted you to have dance lessons in the first place? You are not only an Auror, not only a killer. You should encourage others to see things about you beyond the killing role."
Harry lost track of time as he stared into Lucius's eyes; he had to frankly admit that. Lucius finally raised a hand, delicate, drifting, like a feather on the wind, and pushed Harry's hair back and off his scar.
"Think of me as someone who sees more than the Auror."
Harry felt the heat in his cheeks again, but he had less of an urge to back away this time. His voice was hoarse and quiet when he spoke again. "Why do you want to see more than the Auror?"
"I used to be a great discoverer of potential," Lucius murmured in return. "I can understand diamonds in the rough. I can understand the need to invest effort, and have someone blossom in front of you." He paused, as if debating internally, then added, "Those are often the most beautiful blossoms."
"Fine," said Harry, although he thought the heat of his blush was going to burn him up before he could stop. "But why did you want to discover something in me? You were doing it for money. That should have been enough."
"I have thought of your potential for years. At one time I wondered if it would benefit me to join the opposite side of the war from the Dark Lord. Of course I thought of your potential then, as an ally and someone who could protect me."
Harry blinked. "There's no Voldemort anymore."
Lucius stiffened for an instant, and then shook his head. "No. But it is hard to discontinue the habit." He touched Harry's hair softly, brushing his wrist through it, pressing the side of his palm to Harry's scalp. Harry closed his eyes. "Hard to look away from someone I spent so much time contemplating."
Harry swallowed. Then he said, "Being seen with me at Ministry galas isn't going to improve your reputation."
"I am no longer looking to do that. I have rehabilitated myself from the war as much as I can. Now I am looking to improve my life."
"By having a dance partner?"
"By having a partner."
Harry took a single, unnerved step back. The shine burning in Lucius's eyes should have been familiar. Harry had had people come up to him--although less regularly since he'd announced he was gay--and try to aggressively invite him on dates, or visits, or to parties. He'd thought that was what Lucius was doing.
But the only part that was familiar was the way Lucius loomed over him. The light hand he used to touch Harry's back, the faint smile on his face, and the shine in his eyes...
Those, he hadn't seen before.
There were days when Harry could have laughed it off and stayed, and perhaps that was what he should have done. Instead, he broke, dodged back away from Lucius's hand, and then hurried out of the ballroom.
They hadn't even danced yet today.
*
Harry scowled as he watched the tawny owl fluttering towards the window. He was sure it was from Lucius, and he was also sure he knew what it would say. He let the bird in but only gave it a tiny portion of a treat as he opened the envelope.
It was from Trajan, though, not Lucius, and it was even shorter and to the point than Harry had imagined.
Harry, there's another gala tonight. Something I didn't know they were planning, as part of it was supposed to be a "surprise" for me. I arranged to send you your invitation as there are a few people organizing it you had bad interactions with in the past, and they were perfectly happy to let me. I hope to see you dance there.
The invitation fell out of the envelope then; with some dread, Harry reached down and picked it up. He grimaced when he saw the glittering gold ribbon tied around it and the seal on the front. Yes, it was from the Ministry, but not just any group in the Ministry; it was the Widows and Orphans Fund, a group Harry should have been on the side of.
It didn't help that he'd had a fairly disastrous breakup with the man who headed it.
And yes, it would look bad beyond bad if he didn't go. He was supposed to be the kind of person who could put social causes over bad personal relationships.
Harry sighed a little. The only thing he could hope was that there would be some of his friends from other Departments in the Ministry there, men or women, who would be perfectly willing to dance with him on the basis of friendship alone. Ron, unfortunately, was scheduled for a family visit tonight.
He put down Trajan's letter on the table, and only then noticed the writing waver like reflections in a pond. Harry frowned and picked it up again.
I charmed this to make sure no one else could find it out until after you'd touched the paper. You don't have to worry about a dance partner. Lucius will be there.
Harry groaned and buried his head in his hands.
*
Harry stalked into the ballroom of the gala, deliberately a few minutes early. Polydorus Shrimpie, the man he'd dated who now headed the Widows and Orphans Fund, was always fashionably late. At least this way Harry might have some time to lose himself in the crowd before he was spotted and dragged in for photographs.
People turned as he came in, and Harry slowed automatically, remembering Lucius's advice. Head up, eye contact direct but brief, a smile on your face. You don't want to make anyone feel slighted, but at the same time, you need to do justice to your own importance.
He nodded a few times when he saw someone he knew particularly well, and managed to be facing the other direction when Polydorus came into the room. He felt, more than saw, a ripple run around the room when he finally went over to the drink table, and smiled a little, this time with eyes focused on the table so no one would think he was giving them special treatment.
It felt like a ripple of approval. Lucius's advice had worked.
He continued to sip his Firewhisky and glance away from Polydorus for the next few minutes, and finally he turned when the ripples in the room seemed to announce the Minister was arriving. Harry wanted to be sure to salute Trajan with a toast or a wave, since his advice had been sound even if he was an arse about making sure Harry was here.
It wasn't Trajan. It was Lucius.
Harry felt the sharp surge inside himself as their eyes connected, different entirely from the feeling of the ripple around the room, and he didn't look away even after several seconds. Then he managed it, but the image of Lucius in deep blue robes that shimmered with other shades of blue when the light caught them remained fastened to his memory.
He wore them for me.
Harry had once said something about blue robes with blue and how much he liked them in one of their lessons, true. But that...he was ridiculous to think of Lucius wearing those robes for him. He knew it. He was dry-mouthed and shaking with the ridiculousness.
He turned away.
He could still feel Lucius there, the way he had learned to feel what movements his body would make mere moments before the proper steps in the dance. But Harry kept looking at other people, and smiled at Trajan when he arrived, and made polite, proper conversation while more eyes burned into him. Lucius had come to the gala. Trajan had been right about that. There was no use in thinking he would ask Harry to dance, though, because--
"Dance with me."
Well, I was right about him not asking. Ordering, maybe. Harry set his glass down with a resolute clink before he turned around. "Why should I?"
"Because," said Lucius, and bent so no one else would be able to read the shape of his lips against Harry's ear, "you said you would."
Harry had ignored his promises often enough since he became an Auror--because he couldn't keep something he had promised a criminal in order to get them to stop holding their wand on an innocent victim--that this shouldn't have been a problem. But there he was, feeling caged by Lucius's hand and eye and voice, and he nodded without thinking.
Lucius turned around, and music began to play from the far side of the room. Harry stared incredulously as Lucius led him onto the floor. Had Trajan agreed to let Lucius control the music in exchange for dancing?
But no, Harry realized, as he saw other people moving out to join them with no sign of surprise. (Well, except for the silent, startled glances in his direction). This was the normal start of the dance, and Lucius had simply timed his arrival to coincide with it.
Which meant he had also calculated the amount of time it would take to cross the floor and persuade Harry into dancing.
Bastard, Harry thought, and tilted his head back to glare at the underside of Lucius's chin. He was avoiding those dangerous eyes.
Lucius wasn't. He kept peering down, and his smugness was a palpable thing that swirled around the two of them like a shared cloak.
"Do you know how well you are doing?" Lucius whispered.
Harry started. It was true that he been following the steps of the dance without noticing them, but that was, for the most part, because it was one he had practiced with Lucius until he knew it like the rhythm of his heartbeat.
He considered messing it up, simply to prove to Lucius, and Trajan, that their schemes hadn't succeeded as well as they thought they had.
Lucius's arm tightened around him in response, and this time, his wand did flick, to confused and surprised murmurs around them. This was a challenging, lively waltz--and Harry hated that he knew it was a waltz--similar to the ones he and Lucius had danced, but not the same.
"Show me you are not a coward," Lucius said again as he spun Harry out to the length of his arm, "nor a ruiner of something sacred, which a dance is."
Harry tglared hard enough that he thought Lucius should have taken flight. Lucius only smiled and turned his hand slightly, so a small finger was brushing between Harry's ribs.
"I know you can do this. I am not asking you to do something you cannot do."
That might make it worse, Harry thought, as he met Lucius's eyes head-on and saw how bright the challenging spark in them was.
But he didn't run. He decided that he would prove them all wrong by showing he could take these lessons, this humiliation...and still not do what Lucius wanted.
Eyes on his partner, Harry reached out a hand. Lucius took it. For a moment they rotated, palm-to-palm and never looking away, and then Lucius began to lead, as he had in all the times he and Harry had practiced together.
Let him enjoy it, Harry thought, and turned his head to the side a little in a motion that made Lucius's gaze fasten on the line of his neck. Since he's never going to get to enjoy it again.
It was a quick, running dance, more fluid than Harry had thought it would be. A half-turn, a quarter-turn, and all the while he could feel their robes rustling together. All the time, he either looked at Lucius's eyes, feeling the hand tighten on his shoulder and his fingertips, or he turned and stared at the dance floor with the knowledge of exactly where those eyes would be at the time.
Beyond their private, enspelled bubble of music, other people had stopped Lucius's tune and begun dancing again. Not all of them, though. Harry and Lucius still had a fascinated, staring audience.
Instead of intimidating Harry, it inspired him to new heights, making him bend and turn and add more flourish to his turns. Let all of them enjoy it. No one is ever going to get to see me like this again. Adding one more insult to the ones he was handing Lucius and Trajan--he would dance well once and at no other galas--pleased him.
Lucius's hand on his shoulder burned. Lucius's fingers clasping his tingled. Lucius's gaze never left him. Harry took shameless advantage of how attracted he knew Lucius was, and let the turn carry him so close at one point that his arse brushed Lucius's groin.
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered in the moment except doing well, and then adding insult to injury.
The end of the music came almost as a surprise, except Harry had instinctively anticipated it and halted gracefully. He thought he could see people clapping beyond the edges of the bubble, which had turned into a bubble of silence instead of music, but he didn't care. He stared hard at Lucius and gave a little, mocking bow.
Lucius didn't let his shoulder go when Harry tried to shift away. "What have I done to displease you?" he asked quietly.
"You said something that made no sense." Harry held his voice firm. He could do nothing for his heartbeat, but at least Lucius wasn't touching his wrist or looking at his throat right now.
"What was it?"
"That you wanted--a partner, you said. That makes no sense. I could have been an ally to you during the war. I'm a pupil now. You don't decide that someone you're teaching and fighting with makes a perfect partner."
"No. What I decided on was the potential. And I think we might still develop that."
Harry shook his head, an enormous weariness washing over him. It was the weariness of always trying to fit into the Ministry galas before this and never doing so, of failing the expectations people had of him as a hero while not wanting to fulfill them, of trying and not succeeding. "You're still talking...there's no way you're in love with me, Lucius."
"One doesn't have to be in love to want," said Lucius, and his hand wandered down Harry's shoulder and back. "And to want to give a chance. Will you do that much for me, Harry Potter? Will you give me a chance?"
Harry stared hard at him. He still didn't know how much he trusted Lucius's motives, or maybe he should say Trajan's motives. Money was part of this, but not all. Attraction was part of this, but not all. Wanting him to stop embarrassing the Ministry at public events was part of this, but not all.
He could try. He supposed he could try, and it would work out no worse than his breakup with Polydorus, or his disastrous marriage to Ginny.
Harry had to smile then. A few minutes ago I was ready to walk away and condemn Trajan and Lucius for trying to get me to pay attention to dancing lessons at all. It's almost amusing how quickly my mind can change.
But again, a chance was different from a commitment. Harry reached up and slid his hands down Lucius's shoulders the way he'd almost never done except when he insisted on leading in their private lessons.
"You want to prove it to me? Show me."
*
Harry had thought Lucius would take him back to Malfoy Manor, or whatever comfortable flat or house he lived in now. He hadn't thought Lucius would simply shove him up against the wall in the cloakroom and cast a spell that would prevent anyone from entering for the duration of their...tryst.
What about someone trying to get their cloak who really needs it--
Then Lucius's mouth was on his neck, and Harry threw back his head with a gasp, and stopped thinking so much.
Lucius's hands were as sure and swift as in the waltz, stroking up and down Harry's sides, feeling beneath his robes, dropping into his pants to grip his cock. Harry moaned with his mouth open, his eyes half-closed sometimes. But just as he had always met Lucius's gaze earlier in the evening, Harry felt the same way now. He couldn't look away.
Lucius shifted so Harry could touch him back, but only in the same way Harry had during the dance, with other parts of his body. His hands were pinned down beneath Lucius's arms, and he couldn't wrench them free.
Not that he was sure he wanted to, not after he'd felt the heat brewing between them as groin touched groin.
Lucius gave a gasping laugh and bent his head down, hair hanging around his face and Harry's neck and his breathing tongue, while his hand never stopped its endless, long strokes down Harry's erection. Harry thrust and pulled and pushed and rubbed, as much as he could when Lucius's hand was in the way and his own being soared and tumbled through a mess of emotions.
Sometimes, he thought he managed to make Lucius wank by forcing the back of his hand against his erection. That made Harry so smug he could have flown.
Lucius came first, something Harry didn't expect, suddenly pressing forwards and holding still with pure urgency. Harry felt the wetness against his cock increase, heard Lucius's breath falter and stop, and grabbed his neck to kiss him. Lucius's lips and tongue were passive against his, caught up in his surprise.
Then he kissed Harry hard enough to make Harry's head reel. Harry felt Lucius's hand turn, once, a small, subtle turn he wouldn't have noticed in the middle of the dance.
This was a different dance.
Harry came with Lucius's name muffled on his tongue by the probing kiss, and his head still distantly ringing from lack of air.
They leaned against each other for a long time after that, with a weariness and willingness that reminded Harry of the dance. Lucius panted into his face sometimes, but didn't move away. Harry tried to shift some of his hair. Lucius only moved back so the strands hung right in Harry's eyes again. Harry rolled them.
"You really think that was enough to convince me to be your partner?" Harry finally asked, when the echoes had stopped ringing long enough that he felt as if he could walk again.
"Perhaps not. But I thought I would ask."
Lucius drew back and looked at him--like a hawk, Harry thought. Considering whether it should swoop down on prey that might be too big for it. There was nothing retiring in that gaze, nothing of surrender. Lucius would hit something so hard with his talons that he would spin it around until it lay bleeding on the floor, and then keep going.
"You look so startled," Lucius's musing voice said out of the silence. "As if you didn't think I would be a good lover."
"I'd never thought about you as a lover before we started dancing together."
"Then you should reward me for giving it some thought," said Lucius in a low voice, and moved his leg a little. Harry gasped as he noted the rising evidence between his thighs that Lucius was ready to start again. "Shall you do that now?"
Harry swallowed, gasped in enough air to make himself feel dizzy, and said, "I want some time."
"Alone? Apart?"
"No. Time to date you, and do things other than dance and have sex, and see if we truly want each other in other places in our lives."
Lucius stood with his head bowed and his face so still that for long moments Harry thought he would protest. But then he looked up, and his smile was radiant and smug.
"You've shown me what you can do," Lucius whispered, "by keeping faith with me when I thought you would not. Time to show you what I can do."
Perhaps Harry shouldn't have heard so much of a promise in those words as they stood together, swaying slightly, arms locked around each other, aching and dirty and satisfied, in the cloakroom at a Ministry gala.
But he did.
The End.
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No Better Seduction