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Books » Harry Potter » This Is Not Fair
whydoyouneedtoknow
Author of 52 Stories
Rated: M - English - Humor - Reviews: 32 - Published: 04-22-05 - Complete - id:2362208

(Disclaimer: If it's JKR's, it ain't mine!

Important note: This story is a byproduct of plot planning. It is a thread that I considered for about 12 nanoseconds before discarding as unsuitable for the main plot of "Living without Danger". Therefore, the events that take place in this story will NEVER occur in the main universe. However, it gave me a giggle and I thought you might enjoy it.

Warning: sexual suggestiveness. Don't like – don't read. Warnings complete – on we go!)


Lucius Malfoy stared into his drink. He didn't even know what was in it. Only that it was alcoholic. That was all he cared about at the moment.

He was disguised, of course, but only in the most rudimentary of fashions. As much as it galled him to do so, he had used a Muggle method for altering his appearance – namely, hair dye.

A glamour charm would have been so much easier, so much faster, and so much more effective, Lucius thought sourly. And smelled so much better. Unfortunately, such charms required a wand. And he had no wand.

He knew exactly who was to blame – that blasted and unnatural family, which claimed a werewolf, a blood traitor, and two Mudbloods (or perhaps a Mudblood and a Muggle, he'd never been entirely certain) as the parents, and a strange admixture of children, one of whom had once been his own son.

Traitor. Lucius felt his face contracting into a scowl. Traitor to his blood, his name – all that he could have had, that he could have stood for, and he turned it down...

I will find him. And punish him. And those who corrupted him, the adults and the brats alike...

But they are there, and I am here.

He'd escaped from Azkaban mostly due to the fact that he hadn't been there when he'd escaped. Some legal technicality or other had required his signature, no matter that he was a convicted criminal, and the instant he found himself back on the mainland, instinct had overwhelmed dignity and he'd made a bolt for the exit – and to his surprise, made it. Once on the street, he had found a place to hide, then started laying plans.

An obvious first step was to get out of England. The country was small, the wizarding population smaller, and they would all be on the lookout for him. It had not been terribly difficult to stow away on a cargo ship. Unfortunately, the one he had chosen was not going to France, as he'd thought, but to the United States.

He had survived the ocean crossing – somehow – stealing food, using the head when no one was around, and actually managing to get himself cleaned up a bit – and coincidentally, acquiring a bit of money along the way. Muggle money, of course, but better than nothing.

The money kept him alive for the few days he needed to get more – he quietly thanked his long-gone father for teaching him a few of the less socially acceptable skills the man had known. Such as how to pick pockets. Useful for acquiring information in the form of notes or documents...

And now, useful for getting enough money to get himself hidden and lost in the bustle of America. Wizarding America, of course – though his "marks" were mostly Muggles, his stomach turned at the thought of actually living among them. The room at the cheap motel where he stayed was almost more than he could stand already, and he was looking for something long-term here. So he needed to find wizarding America.

He discovered, quite by accident, a telephone number an immigrant witch or wizard could call for assistance – it was written on the side of a telephone booth, with a "wizarding eyes only" charm on it. After being sure he understood how the odd Muggle device worked, Lucius placed the call.

The witch on the other end was both charming and helpful. She gave him the names of two or three cities in America with flourishing wizarding communities and work opportunities, and directions on how to find and use a Whamtrak station.

After giving the matter some thought, Lucius chose a medium-sized city not too far from his present location and boarded a Whamtrak train that same night. The service was aptly named – even the Knight Bus didn't make stops quite that hard – but it was fast, depositing him at his destination only three hours after he had boarded.

He had found another cheap motel, left his baggage there, and gone out to find a wizarding pub, or bar as they were called here. He needed a drink – preferably more than one – and he was hoping, in a half-hearted sort of way, for some female companionship. Narcissa had been a frigid bitch even when she was alive, and that had been ten years ago.

Ten years was a long time.

He turned his head to signal the bartender he wanted another round. Movement at a corner table caught his eye, but when he turned to look, the occupant of that table was sipping her drink and didn't seem to have noticed him at all. Besides, thought Lucius, looking her over with a critical eye, she was too old. Much too old.

The bartender delivered his drink. Simultaneously, the woman got up and headed for the bathroom.

She's dreaming if she thinks I'd ever even look at her. It doesn't matter what she does to her face.

Though she does look familiar somehow...

He drank half the glass in one swallow and noticed with pleasure that the hard edges in the room were beginning to soften. He'd feel this in the morning, but it felt so good now... for a little while, he could forget what he was, what he'd been forced to become, and drift back to the days when he'd been rich, powerful, respected, important...

"Hi, there," said a husky voice beside him.

Lucius turned to look and almost fell off his stool.

The woman standing beside him was everything the older woman at the table had not been. Young, slender, curvaceous – oh, definitely curvaceous – wearing a red dress that harmonized gloriously with her chocolate-brown skin – well, there was one point of similarity, the older woman had been black too. But this woman –

"Can I buy you a drink, or are you wrapping up your evening?" she asked, sliding onto the stool next to his.

"I think I could handle one more," said Lucius, getting his tongue under control.

"Ooh, you're British, aren't you? I love men who have accents, they're so... sexy." Her hand slid teasingly down his shoulder. "I'm Judy, by the way."

Lucius smiled at her, turning on the full effect of the Malfoy charm. "You can call me Lucky."

Because I think I am, tonight.


Back at Judy's apartment, half an hour later, Lucius watched as she mixed them each a drink at her kitchen counter. "You just got in tonight, you said?" she asked as she brought the drinks over.

Lucius nodded, carefully. "Train got in at seven," he said, accepting the drink. "I'm staying at the Steel Mill Motel, it's... around here somewhere." He took a gulp of his drink. "This is good. What's in it?"

"Oh, this and that. So what did you do in Britain before you came to America?"

"Oh, this and that."

They both laughed.

"No, but sheriously," Lucius slurred, slightly surprised by the distortions in his voice. I haven't had that much to drink. Have I? "I'm never too tired for a bit of... fun. If you know what I mean."

"Oh, I think I know exactly what you mean." Judy's smile was predatorial. She downed her own drink, reached behind her, then frowned. "Help me with my zipper? I think it's stuck."

"Of course." Lucius took another gulp at his drink, set the glass down carefully on the end table – missing the first time, but hitting it the second – and got up to help her. But something was wrong with the floor. It wouldn't hold him up – it kept wobbling around –

And then it turned sideways, and Lucius discovered with a sense of wonder how very comfortable the world was that way. The wall against his face was marvelously soft, and he didn't have to work on standing up at all.

How odd. She's standing on the wall. I wonder why.

Judy reached into her purse and withdrew something. She flicked a knob on the side, and a green flame rose from the top.

Green. Pretty.

"Keystone Headquarters," Judy said to the thing.

What's a Keystone?

Lucius tried to ask her this, but he couldn't seem to remember how his mouth worked. And then it was so much easier just to close his eyes than to hold them open...


"Wake up, Lucky," Judy's voice called dulcetly.

Lucius groaned. He didn't want to.

"Fine, have it your way."

A creaking noise, and he was suddenly hit in the face with a blast of cold water. He yelled and jumped up.

Or rather he tried to yell and jump up.

He was somewhat handicapped by the fact that he was tied up and gagged.

The water ceased. "Hold still," said Judy's voice. A rough cloth rubbed across his face, drying it, and Lucius could open his eyes.

He was lying in a bathtub. His hands were tied behind him and his feet tied together. Judy was leaning against the sink, smiling sweetly at him. "I'm so sorry, I forgot to tell you," she said. "I'm into bondage. I hope you don't mind."

All coherent thoughts failed in Lucius' mind. The only thing he could muster was horror.

He was about to be raped.

Then – it happened.

Judy started laughing.

And as she laughed, she reached behind her and picked up a small glass vial. As soon as she could stop laughing for a moment, she downed the contents in one swallow, then went back to her paroxysms of laughter.

And she began to change.

Her face took on a few wrinkles and lines, her hair whitened, her figure –

Well, it changed too. Rather dramatically.

Within a few moments, Lucius was staring at the older woman he'd seen in the bar.

"Glamour charm," she managed to choke out, still howling with laughter. "God, you should have seen the look on your face! As a matter of fact–"

She produced a camera and snapped several shots before Lucius had the sense to try to turn his face away from her.

"So, to business," she said, putting the camera down and calming herself a bit, though the occasional chuckle was still escaping from her. "No, I'm not actually into bondage. Not that way, anyway. I brought you here because unless I'm very much mistaken – which I doubt – you are Lucius Malfoy, a very wanted man."

Lucius could not quite control his annoyance at being recognized.

"Ah, I see I'm not mistaken. Good. I would have hated to do this to some innocent man who just happened to resemble you. I have to tell you, though, if you hadn't turned your head at the bar, I would never have noticed you. But when you did – I'm sure you've heard this before, but you look just like my great-nephew."

No, as a matter of fact, I've never had a woman tell me that before...

"You might know him. His name is Draco Black."

Him? But – how –

"Let me introduce myself properly. Amy Freeman, Noxet Bank of America. Aletha Freeman-Black happens to be my niece. And since I stay in touch with the family, they send me photographs of the children. I got one not three days ago – Draco's how old, fourteen now? He's growing up, and it's really apparent now that I have a chance to look at you." She eyed him critically. "Don't take this wrong, but I think the face looks better on him than on you. Maybe it's just the lack of permanent sneer lines."

By this time, Lucius was simply glaring at her in hatred. You will pay for this someday, you freakish foreign witch...

The doorbell rang. "Oh, I have to get that, I'm sure it's the Keystones," Amy said. "Don't go anywhere, now." She smiled and left the bathroom.

Now that he was sober – she must have used a Sobering Charm on him at some point, or possibly force-fed him a potion, because his mind was perfectly clear – Lucius recalled what a Keystone was.

The American equivalent of an Auror.

He would have sworn, but he didn't know any words bad enough for this situation. The only thing he could think of to say sounded far too like a sulky child.

But I cannot say anything at the moment. I can merely think. And it does not matter what I think. No one has to know about it.

Very well, then.

But his thoughts were interrupted at this point. A burly man walked into the bathroom, looked him over, and turned to Amy, who had followed him in. "That's the guy. Thanks for helping us out, Ms. Freeman, we've had an APB out on this one for a couple weeks now. But if you don't mind my asking, where'd you get a Zippophone? I thought only the upper levels had them yet."

Amy smiled. "Goblins are amazing creatures, Officer. So very helpful, if you ask them the right way. Are you going to take him in right now?"

"I think so." The Keystone pointed his wand at Lucius. "Stupefy!"

Lucius' last thought was the one that had been interrupted by their arrival.

This is not FAIR.

But, as fate seemed to be going out of the way to remind him, life wasn't fair.


(A/N: A Zippophone is like a cell phone for wizards. It consists of a Zippo lighter (hence the name) with a Floo powder dispenser in it. When you flick the switch, the flame comes up green. You say the name of the person or place you want to call, wait for them to answer, and then conduct your conversation. It has a switch holder for long conversations so your thumb doesn't get tired. Kudos to my dad, who came up with this idea – which will be appearing in "Living without Danger" in due course!)
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