Hey all of you. Thanks for reading this, in advance. Secondly, I thought I’d write this one first because it’s all planned out and way shorter than I intend HUSH LITTLE BABY to be: HUSH will be next though, once I finish MUGGLE INCONVENIENCE (which I’m working on the last chapter of) and do the epilogue for WOLF. This will be 5 chapters long (like MUGGLE), and I hope you enjoy it.

Regardless of the fact that Draco is with Harry for a part of the story (integral to the plot I assure you) this IS a Lucius/Harry fiction! Just to clear it up, before anyone starts to ask me about it!

“Black Complication”

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I can safely say that none of the Harry Potter franchise belongs to my person, as much as I regret that fact. I would dearly have loved to have came up with the idea of at the very least the Malfoys, but they too belong to Ms. Rowling.

Summary: [LMHP When Sirius is declared innocent, his Will names Harry as his Heir, but Fudge finds a clause in Sirius’ will that even Sirius didn’t know about. If Harry Potter is to be Lord Black he has to marry a Black. Unfortunately, the choices are Bellatrix or Draco. But Harry is secretly married to Lucius and has been since the man turned spy in 6th year! What lengths will Fudge go to look like he has control of the situation? And there’s one more secret, not yet out in the open. How will that affect the situation? AU M-preg.

Warnings: Slash. LM/HP established relationship. AU. No HBP. Mpreg. Dub-consent. Mild DM/HP.

Rating: R/NC-17 SLASH!!

A/N: This came to me in a dream – no really, it did! I’m strange like that. I know how long this one will be; it’ll be about 5 chapters. By now WOLF only has the Epilogue to go, and I’m working on the last chapter of MUGGLE INCONVENIENCE. I’m going to have a short chapter about Lucius and Harry getting to know each other, because in the story they are already together. Fair enough?

XXX

Words: 8,295

Chapter 1

Overture

When people close to you die, everyone knows you are meant to make a space for them in your heart and your memories and then move on. But putting it into practise is a lot harder than it seems before you’ve actually experienced that death. When people close to you die, it’s heartbreaking and earth shattering. When they die you feel as if you can’t go on anymore, like it was you who died, like your life is over not theirs. When Sirius Black died it was all Harry Potter could do not to die with him.

Sirius had fallen through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries two months ago, in June. At the time, Harry had to be held back so he didn’t jump after the dead man. Sirius was Harry’s godfather, and the only family member he had left.

Not including the Dursley family.

The Dursleys were far too ‘normal’ to want to be related to Harry, and the fact that they had no choice only served to piss them off severely and ensure they made Harry’s life hell. He could admit to himself that he hated everything about the Dursley family; how normal they were, how they hated how un-normal he was, how they treated him, how badly they spoke about his parents, how they mocked his nightmares about Sirius’ and Cedric’s deaths and so many other things.

They hated Harry, and Harry hated them just as much. Harry could understand why they hated him – they were afraid of him and of magic – but Harry didn’t understand who they could punish an innocent child for something he didn’t even know he could do. Since Harry’s parents died when he was 15-months-old, Harry had lived with his mother’s sister and her husband and their young son. Since Harry’s parents were magical, he could do accidental magic when his emotions got out of control. And since he was so emotionally neglected as a child, they tended to go haywire quite a lot. And each time, Harry could never understand how it happen, he only knew it was his fault. At least, that’s what the Dursleys told him constantly.

His fault.

Everything was his fault.

His freakishness was his fault. His parents’ deaths were his fault because of that damned prophecy. Cedric’s death was his fault. Sirius’ death was his fault. And that last one was the one that felt like someone was reaching into his chest to wrench out his heart. He had killed Sirius, the only person he could remember loving him, and Harry had killed him. Sirius had tried to save him and died because of it. He could have been freed, innocent. If Harry hadn’t have interfered in Third Year, Sirius and Remus could have killed the traitor that led Lord Voldemort to his parents and they could have used to corpse to prove that Sirius had been framed. But Harry had stopped him, so Sirius was still guilty.

Sirius wanted two things in life. One was to protect Harry and he had died doing just that. The second thing was to be declared innocent, and he had died, because of Harry, before that could happen.

And it was all Harry’s fault.

Two weeks after arriving at the Dursleys, his Headmaster had wrote to his family informing them of the death of Sirius Black, and begging them to give Harry time to grieve. The letter had the opposite effect. For years Harry had been using the threat of his escaped convict godfather to keep the Dursleys from punishing him too severely. Now though, Harry didn’t have anything to hold over their heads.

Uncle Vernon gave a loud roar as he finished reading the letter that had just landed in the middle of his breakfast. Petunia Dursley glared angrily at her nephew for bringing his freakishness back into their normal house, but carried on eating. Dudley, Harry’s cousin, didn’t even stop shovelling food into his mouth for an instant. His fork still moving, he reached out with his free hand and smacked Harry over the head, “freak,” he muttered spraying food across Harry’s face.

Vernon’s hands darted out grabbing Harry by the collar of his shirt and dragging him across the kitchen table so they were face to face. “You lying, ungrateful freak!” He snarled and drew a fist back, punching Harry in the nose. “How dare you not tell us Black was dead!” Petunia’s mouth dropped open and her eyes turned sad for just one second as she looked at Harry, before they filled with hate again. Dudley squeaked at the name and dropped his fork in fear. “Did you think you could get away with it, boy? Lying to us? You bastard, after everything we’ve done for you, you’re trying to scam us!”

He let go of Harry, who rolled off the side of the table and fell hard on the floor. He lay there panting, knowing better than to try and get up before he was dismissed. “Well, I have news for you, boy. You won’t get any food from us again and you’re going back into your cupboard. I don’t care if you don’t fit!” He snarled when Harry looked up and opened his mouth to protest. “For a week boy, just one week punishment. And then you can find those freak friends of yours and stay there. You are. Never. Coming. Here. Again!” He snarled out each word, standing up and taking steps towards Harry.

Vernon grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him towards the cupboard under the stairs, Harry’s first bedroom at the Dursley household. Vernon yanked open the door and threw Harry into the small cupboard. The door slammed closed and locked and Harry just curled in on himself and thought about Sirius.

It was entirely his fault.

He sat there for the better part of the day, just thinking about Sirius and hoping the man knew how sorry Harry was for getting him killed. He must have been sitting there for about an hour and a half before he heard the sound of a car revving. He allowed a small smile to flit across his face at the thought of Vernon going to work; a whole working day without Vernon in the house. How he hated weekends at Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey.

Harry listened intently for the loud stomping sounds of Dudley running down the stairs and then back up the stairs again before jumping on the part just above where Harry lay. Now that he was back in the cupboard, Harry had no doubt that Dudley would revert to the same techniques he used when they were ten. Stomp, stomp, and jump— Harry sighed. There were the noises he knew had been coming. He closed his eyes and mouth as the dust began to rain down on top of his head. Spider webs came loose and fluttered down on top of him as well. With a sigh, he picked three spiders off the end of his nose and gently lay the on the shelf across from his.

Dudley stomped down the stairs once more and the opened the front door. “Bye mumsie! Going to tea with Piers!” He yelled loudly and slammed the door behind him. Harry snorted. Dudley was no more going for tea than Harry ever did. Dudley just made up excuses like that so aunt Petunia never asked where he was really going. He’d probably be in the park beating up little kids with his gang, or he’d be down by the shops harassing the shop owners and stealing, or he’d be by the primary school smoking and drinking. But he was certainly not having tea!

The cupboard door opened with a sharp click. “Boy, come out here!” Aunt Petunia yelled in her shrill voice. She looked rather like a horse Harry supposed, with her thin long face and her long neck and large mouth. But, he decided, it was better than looking like her walrus of a husband.

“Yes aunt Petunia?” Harry asked quietly as he crawled from the cupboard under the stairs.

She sneered at him. “Go clean the kitchen, wash the dishes, leave something out to thaw for dinner, and then wash the carpet in the living room. When you’ve finished that you can weed the garden.” She ran her eyes over his sickly thin frame and sighed. “If you be good all day, you can have a sandwich before Vernon and Dudley get home. If you finish your chores before they get home, of course.” She sneered at him again, looking down her nose at him as she turned on her heel and stalked away.

With an annoyed glare after her retreating back, Harry dragged himself into the kitchen and began to clean up. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to finish his own breakfast before Dumbledore’s owl had arrived, so he took the opportunity to pop left over pieces of bacon and eggs into his mouth while he scraped everything inedible into the bin. In a week, he’d write to Dumbledore and he’d leave. Dumbledore had to come and get him! It was Dumbledore’s fault this was happening. As much as he cared for the man, the Headmaster needed to learn to stay out of other people’s business.

He finished the kitchen quick enough, and moved to cleaning the living room. First he went outside to find a bucket in the shed. He filled it with hot water and carpet cleaner before he grabbed the special mop his aunt kept lying around just for cleaning carpets and windows.

While he was cleaning, Petunia came into the living room and sat down on one of the couches, her feet resting in Harry’s way. She was muttering to herself as she turned the television on and flicked through until she found something worth watching.

Harry almost stopped working as he strained his ears to listen. “Bloody brat,” she hissed and Harry winced slightly. “Can’t believe we have to raise him. Just because my perfect sister and that fairy Potter got themselves blown up. Not my fault that fairy was dangerous! I told her not to get involved with those sorts, but no! She didn’t listen to me. Not even related to me, and I have to bloody well put up with him.”

Not related? Harry growled. That was it! The last straw! He got the fact that she hated him, but to deny that they were related all together was just cruel.

“Shut up!” He shouted, dropping the mop. Petunia shrieked, only just realizing that her nephew was in the room. “I know you hate me, I’m not to fond of you all either, but that was uncalled for. It’s not my fault I could do magic. I didn’t ask to be a Wizard, and I know you don’t like Wizards but to completely deny I’m related to you?”

“You aren’t!” She snarled before her eyes widened and her hand clamped across her mouth in horror. She wasn’t supposed to say that.

Harry didn’t cop on. Instead he laughed hysterically. “Do you hate me that much? I bet you’re going to say Lily wasn’t your real sister now!”

“Of course she was you foolish boy!”

Harry flinched, “so it’s just me you hate? She could do magic too!” She sniffled slightly, feeling incredibly hurt that Petunia would deny him but not her magic-using sister as well. He didn’t know why he cared – no, he did. He wanted family, because Sirius was dead, and the Dursleys were the last resort – but it hurt so much. He felt his eyes tear up. “Do you really hate me that much?”

“Go to your cupboard, Potter!” She waved her hand, as if to brush away an annoying insect or a bad smell, then pointed at the cupboard.

“My chores!” He tried t protest.

“CUPBOARD!” She shouted, picking the bucket of hot water up and throwing it at him. He gasped and threw himself to the floor, barely missing being scalded. He stared at her in horror and ran for the cupboard. He drew his knees to his chest and sobbed as he heard his aunt draw the bolt across the door, locking him inside.

XXX

That following Sunday, Lord Voldemort called his followers to his side with an excited smirk on his face. He really did love inducting new followers. In small groups his Death Eaters popped into the large throne room in the Manor he used as his base. When everyone who was coming was there, Voldemort stood up and moved to the front of the small stage his throne sat on. As one, every black-cloaked figure dropped to their knees and greeted him.

He smirked. “Malfoy, come forth.” Narcissa slowly moved forward, hesitantly looking behind her, not sure if she was being called or her son was. Her husband was in Azkaban and had been since June 18th. So it certainly wasn’t him being summoned.

“Yes my Lord?” She asked as she climbed up onto the stage and bowed to kiss the hem of his robes. He kicked her back with a laugh. She gasped as she hit the floor, the other Death Eaters moving away from her. A blond boy, without the mask the rest were wearing cried out and moved forward. Narcissa tried to stand.

“I want him,” he pointed at the blond boy, “not you, woman.” He snarled, and she threw herself to the floor again, begging forgiveness. “Come Malfoy, it is time you were marked.”

“Marked?” He whispered even as he stepped forward. His right hand moved to cover the crease of his elbow on his left arm and he fought to suppress a shudder.

“You do not wish to serve me in your father’s place, Malfoy?” Voldemort’s face twisted into an unpleasant sneer. “Do you not wish to make penance for the mistakes of a father?” Draco nodded hesitantly, knowing his father would want Voldemort to know how sorry he was for fucking up in the Department of Mysteries. “Good. Then accept your punishment and you will be one of us.”

“Punishment?” He whispered as the first curse hit him. He screamed in pain as the Cruciatus wracked his body, spreading fire through his nerve ending and boiling his blood. “Oh stop!” He screamed, falling to the floor and thrashing wildly. “Please stop!”

The Curse lifted for a second before another took its place. Draco Malfoy screamed again as hundred of small, shallow cuts sprung up all over his body, marring his perfect milk white skin. Narcissa gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror, as her son was tortured for something that wasn’t even his fault. Draco was shaking again as a second Cruciatus hit him. When that was lifted, Voldemort sat back down in his throne and smirked at the blond.

“Are you ready to join me, Malfoy?”

Draco spat blood out of his mouth, taking a deep breath before meeting Voldemort’s malicious red eyes. “Never. I’ll die before I join you.”

Voldemort smirked. “Very well.” Draco tensed, expecting another Curse. “But first. My Inner Circle, I know you have been bored lately, so we should do something to amuse you all. And punish young Malfoy at the same time.” He waved his hand and Narcissa Malfoy came flying through the crowd as if attached to an invisible rope and landed with a thump on the floor beside Voldemort’s throne.

“NO!” Draco cried, but his aunt, Bellatrix, held him back. She ran a hand threw his hair and cackled as what was left of the Inner Circle made their way onto the stage.

Rudolphus Lestrange – Bellatrix’s husband – and his brother, Rabastian were the first to bow to Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe, Avery, McNaire and Goyle were in Azkaban. Alexander Nott joined the other two men on the stage and bowed. Bellatrix should have been up there with them, but she was having too much fun teasing the distraught blond teenager.

“Enjoy her, she is of no use to me.” Voldemort sat back in his throne, his legs crossed at one knee and his hand tight around the arm rests. He watched with amusement as they Crucioed the blond woman until she cried.

Rudolphus looked at his wife who shrugged, before he looked down on his sister-in-law and laughed loudly. Everyone enjoyed seeing the high and mighty Malfoy’s brought down a peg or two at times. With a wave of his wand, the blond woman was naked. Her eyes widened, truly afraid now as she tried to scramble away but Nott held her by the arms and Rabastian took hold of one leg and they spread her out. Rudolphus unfastened his trousers and pushed them down over his hips, keeping his robes around his waist. He pushed her other leg out of the way, spreading her open to him and smirked as he slammed into her, relishing in the scream he ripped from her throat.

Draco screamed along with her.

With every thrust, he made her scream, and as his mother screamed Draco would scream. And Voldemort enjoyed every second of it. When Rudolphus was finished, Rabastian took his turn, and then Nott raped the blond woman as well. When they had finished playing they turned to face their Lord and waited for his orders.

“Malfoy,” Draco looked up, eyes red and his throat hoarse from screaming. His entire body trembled. “Imperio!” The light hit him and his eyes clouded over, his posture stiffening up. “Come here,” Voldemort said and Bellatrix let the blond go. He walked jerkily towards the stage and climbed up and bowed. The snake-like man laughed and said something to the blond that no one else could hear.

One man in the crowd tensed, imaging the worst, preparing for Draco to rape his mother, but obviously Voldemort wasn’t in an incestuous mood because Draco merely raised his wand. The spy, Severus Snape, begged anyone who was listening that Draco had been ordered to torture only, but his hopes were shattered when Draco screamed “Avada Kedavra” and the killing green light engulfed the broken woman.

Voldemort lifted the Imperious and Draco dropped to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He didn’t move as Voldemort moved towards him. The hand knotted into the hair at the back of his head, and raised his face to meet the smirking Inner Circle.

“Enjoy yourselves,” he said again, pushing the blond towards them. Rudolphus reached out for him, his penis hard once again, but something distracted him.

With a smirk, Severus risked his own life to save his godson. He cast another spell at the Death Eater, hoping no body noticed they were coming from his direction. Draco met his eyes and Severus smiled and mouthed, “run”. Draco took one last look at his mother’s corpse and jumped to his feet and ran. He pushed everyone out of the way and actually made it to the door before anyone began firing spells after him. When he was out of the Manor, he collapsed to the floor and searched his pockets frantically for his emergency Portkey. Without a sound, Draco landed on the floor of his bedroom in Malfoy Manor.

Trembling, he packed his trunks and shrank them, tucking them safely into his pockets. He made his way to his father’s study and fire called Hogwarts. Headmaster Dumbledore answered with a smile, and told Draco to floo through.

When Draco arrived he tried to ignore Dumbledore as the man cast about twenty revealing charms on him. “I’m not here to kidnap you, you know.” He said blandly, sinking into a chair in front of the man’s desk. Dumbledore sat back down and crossed his hands on the desk in front of him.

“Why are you here,” Dumbledore asked, “dressed like that?” Draco looked down at his tattered Death Eater robes and frowned.

“I was there, with him.” Draco gasped, his breath catching in his throat as the shock began to fade and what he had done sank in. “I killed her. I killed her. I need to see my father, please! You’re the only person I could think of. Please help me?”

“You need to start from the beginning.” Dumbledore said calmly, popping a lemon drop into his mouth. Draco took a deep breath and drank the tea Dumbledore held out to him, pretending not to notice the Calming Potion the old man slipped into it. Draco drank his tea and sighed. Then he told the old Headmaster everything about that night. When he had finished he began to cry again, his arms on the desk and his face buried against them.

“Please help me.” Draco whispered again, before his tears began to flow again. Severus Snape stood in the doorway of Dumbledore’s office; tears of his own spilling down his cheeks as he watched the blond. His eyes met Dumbledore’s and he nodded, agreeing with everything Draco had said.

“Come Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said standing. “You get changed and I’ll arrange transport to Azkaban.” The blond’s eyes widened and he allowed a very small smile to appear on his lips before nodding his thanks and following the resident spy out of the room.

They arrived at Azkaban Island an hour later. Draco was dressed in a robe of silver with dark green snakes embroidered around the edges. He carried a black leather bag in his right hand, and a black silk lined box in his left. If his father agreed to Dumbledore’s plan, he would get both the gifts Draco carried. The bag contained clean clothing for the aristocrat, and the box was the very same one Lucius had, been given by Olivander, containing his wand.

Dumbledore walked a little ahead of the young blond and nodded at the Aurors who met them at the doors to the Prison. “No, no, it’s fine,” Dumbledore insisted when the Aurors tried to take Lucius’ wand off of Draco. “Ministry approved, see here,” he said handing over a scroll signed by Amelia Bones, Head of the Auror Division.

“Hello again, Lucius.” Dumbledore said when at last they reached the Malfoy Lord’s cell. His hair was longer than Draco remembered and stringier too. It hung down his back, not like the waterfall it used to resemble, but like numerous rat-tails hanging from his father’s head. His face was thin, his eye sockets hollow, but he still managed to sneer at the Headmaster.

“FATHER!” Draco cried, rushing to the bars of the cell. His hand wrapped around one bar as he pushed his other arm through, trying to reach his father. It had only been two months, but Azkaban had done a number on the once impeccable looking man. “Please listen to him, father, it’s important.” Lucius raised an eyebrow at Dumbledore, but his hand moved forward to take hold of the hand Draco offered. He squeezed it hard, revelling in the contact with another person; his son.

“I have missed you, Dragon.” His voice croaked, sounding as if it had been him tortured under the Cruciatus and not Draco. “Where’s your mother?”

“It’s about mother.” Draco said, averting his eyes.

Dumbledore fixed the elder blond with a sad look and said, “She’s dead. Lord Voldemort punished her because Draco didn’t want to be a Death Eater. He allowed his Inner Circle to rape and torture her before making Draco kill her.” Draco flinched as his father tried to meet his eyes. “He would have done the same to Draco had Severus not distracted them long enough to allow Draco to escape.”

“I heard him say ‘Imperio’ but I couldn’t duck the Curse. I tried so hard to fight it, I did. But I killed her. I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Lucius whispered his grip tightening on the hand he still held. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s Potter’s!” Draco growled angrily. Potter had gotten his father sent to Azkaban.

Lucius spoke before Dumbledore could protest. “It is not Potter’s fault. It is no ones fault, but the Dark Lord’s.” Lucius looked at Dumbledore, staring at the old man before him, trying to imagine what he’d have to sacrifice in order to please the Headmaster. “What do you want with me? I will not spy for you. I will not go back to him and risk him using me to harm Draco.”

“Not at all, Lucius.” Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “I’m sure you know about the prophecy.” Lucius nodded slowly. “Well then, I would like you to stay at Hogwarts and tutor Harry for me.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Draco said, his eyes wide.

“You know quite a lot about the Dark Arts, Lucius don’t deny it. Harry will need to know what he is facing. You are the best person to teach him that.”

“You want me to teach the Golden Boy that Dark Arts?”

“Yes, and Occlumency as well.” Albus smirked. “Do we have a deal?”

“Yes, but you can break the news to the boy.” Dumbledore laughed and pulled a key out of his pocket. He pushed the key into the lock of the cell and turned it. Opening the door, Albus took the bag from Draco’s hand and passed it to the elder blond.

“Get changed, we’ll wait for you down the hall.”

Ten minutes later, Lucius made his way through the halls of Azkaban dressed in a splendid crimson robe with black vines wrapped around the collar and hems, and along the centre front hiding the buttons. His hair was still lank, but when Dumbledore handed his wand over, Lucius waved it and cast a cleaning spell over his entire body. “That feels so much better.” He said, sounding pleased.

“Shall we go?” Lucius nodded and wrapped his arm around his son’s waist, hugging the boy tightly. “You’ll be staying at Hogwarts for the year in a teachers room. Mr. Potter will, if it makes things easier, be sharing the room with you.” Dumbledore looked to Lucius for a response.

“We shall see how he takes the news first.” Albus nodded. They took hold of the Portkey and arrived back at Hogwarts. Severus was waiting for them in the Great Hall with a small smile.

“It is good to see you again, old friend.” He hugged Lucius.

“Likewise,” the blond tightened his arms around the Potions Master.

Draco watched them with a small smile. His father had never loved his mother, his father always had preferred men, but he could tell that Lucius was saddened by her death. He was, though, more angered that Voldemort had ordered her death; the perceived betrayal angered him and outweighed the sorrow he felt. Draco loved his mother, and was distraught, but at least he had his father back now.

“We’ll give you a few days to settle in, then I’ll pick Harry up, is that alright?” Lucius nodded. “Severus, if you could show Lucius to his room? Draco, you’re welcome to stay with either of them or in the Slytherin dorm until school starts. I’m pleased to inform you that you’ve made Prefect.” Draco grinned, “Unfortunately the Prefect rooms haven’t been cleaned yet, so you cannot stay there.”

XXX

That same day, Harry Potter had just sent a letter to Dumbledore with his owl, Hedwig. Dumbledore hadn’t written back to him yet, and even though it was a Monday his uncle hadn’t gone into work. That meant that Vernon was pacing in front of the cupboard under the stairs, where Harry had been shoved once they were sure the owl was sending the letter, and he was muttering about freaks. Apparently, Vernon had told Harry to send the letter last Monday so the freaks at that freak School would know to pick him up this Monday. Harry was very sure Vernon hadn’t said anything like that.

He jumped, startled as the door opened. “Are they here?” He asked excitedly.

“No, boy, they aren’t. What did you say to them!?” He screamed, shaking Harry by the shoulders.

“I told them to come and get me.” The boy said fearfully.

“Get your freaky things, boy.” Vernon threw Harry half way up the stairs. “And get out. I said a week, and it’s been a week, now leave and never come back.”

Harry gasped. “I can’t just leave! The Order won’t-”

“Don’t talk about those weirdoes here!” Vernon opened the front door. “Get your things and leave, or leave and I’ll burn your things later.” Harry squeaked and ran up the stairs. He threw himself into Dudley’s second bedroom and packed hurriedly. He dragged his trunk down the stairs so fast that he tripped and fell down the stairs while his trunk ran him over and flew out of the still open front door. Vernon looked horrified as Harry sat up at the end of the stairs and looked out of the door. His trunk had slammed into the side of Vernon’s brand new car.

Harry gulped. Figuring he was dead either way, he pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at Vernon’s face. The man jumped back, and Harry kept it pointed until he was out of the door. He grabbed his trunk, tucked his wand away, tried not to look at the rather large dent in the car, and ran for it.

Vernon’s roar of anger echoed down the street after him.

He went to Mrs. Figg’s house; she lived two streets over from the Dursleys. She was a Squib. She’d know how to get in touch with Dumbledore. She let him in and made him something to eat before she headed off to her fireplace and tried to fire call Hogwarts. No one answered. No body answered when she fire called Order Headquarters either. Harry shuddered as he tried not to think about Grimmauld Place; the last place Sirius had been held prisoner. He’d probably have to live there until school started when Dumbledore came to get him.

It was six days before Mrs. Figg managed to get hold of Dumbledore. That Saturday – the 19th of August – she had gone to the shops, and come back home dragging the elderly Wizard after her by his beard. “You horrid man.” She cried as she pulled him into her house. “Do you know the trouble I’ve had trying to get hold of you? Here, have some tea. How dare you ignore me for so long? Take a biscuit. And another. You- you, oh you annoy me. Poor Harry, I cant believe those horrid Muggles threw him out. And then you had the gall to ignore us! Come here, Harry dear, Albus take a biscuit for Merlin sake.” She continued to rant until she was blue in the face and both Harry and Dumbledore were shying away from her.

“Mrs. Figg, really.” Harry started but was cut off by Dumbledore.

“Get your things Harry. We’re going to Hogwarts. There’s something you need to know. I was arranging everything last week. I haven’t had time to check my mail, I am sorry.” The brunette shrugged. He was still rather angry that Dumbledore hadn’t told him about the prophecy sooner, but anger didn’t change the fact that Sirius was dead.

They left through Mrs. Figg’s fireplace, and flooed straight to the Headmaster’s Office, where Lucius and Draco were waiting. “What are they doing here?” Both of the Malfoy’s offer him tight smiles and Harry hesitantly smiles back. “Explain?”

“Draco Malfoy refused the Dark Mark on Monday the 13th August. As a result, Narcissa Malfoy was raped and tortured before Draco was forced, using the Imperious, to kill her.” Harry flinched and turned to stare at Draco who looked as if he were going to cry. “Lucius Malfoy was released from Azkaban at my request. In return he has agreed to stay here at Hogwarts for the year and teach you everything you need to know to defeat Voldemort.”

“I get training?” Harry asked excitedly.

“Yes, my boy, and I apologize that it is long overdue. You will also be learning Occlumency with Lucius this year, not Severus.” Harry smiled at the thought of not having to learn from Snape ever again. He hadn’t received his OWL results yet, but he was sure he failed Potions so he couldn’t take it this year anyway. “And,” Harry looked worried. “you will be sharing a suit of teacher’s rooms with Lucius for the rest of this year and every year until Voldemort is defeated. It will make it easier for you both.”

Harry slumped in his chair. He thought he’d rather prefer not to be trained at all, especially at the cost of having to live with a Malfoy. He kicked his toe against the floor and huffed. “Fine.” He grumbled after five solid minutes of silence.

“Wonderful, wonderful, Lucius will show you where you’re staying. Draco you’re free to go as well.”

“Potter,” Draco called, as he practically had to run to keep up with Harry. Harry walked fast, not wanting to be with the Malfoys, but not fast enough to get separated from them and not find his new room. “We’ll probably be spending a lot of time together, so I want to call a truce. At least until the Dark Lord is gone.”

“You know, Malfoy, only his supporters call him the Dark Lord.”

“You-Know-Who is a ridiculous thing to address someone as.” Draco scoffed.

“You could try saying Voldemort, you know.” Draco flinched slightly.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Do you want a truce or not?” Harry held his hand out silently, and Draco shook it, a small smile on the blond’s face. Lucius watched them and rolled his eyes.

They all spent a lot of time together, Snape included. While Draco and Harry started to get on, he and Severus hated each other just as much as ever. Harry had tried to apologize for the pensive incident and Snape had gone at him like a wild man, which led to Harry running for his life and hiding in the Room of Requirements for five hours.

Draco and Harry did still have their odd fights, but now they were more teasing that malicious and they were usually centred on Quidditch teams. Harry supported the Chudley Cannons because they were the only team he knew of. Draco, however, thought that the Cannons sucked major arse. He was a Falcon fan all the way. Harry didn’t know who the Falcons were, so he couldn’t make a comment. Draco took that as a personal slight.

Harry got on best with Lucius though. The elder blond was nothing like Harry thought he was. Sure he was proud and arrogant, and rich and a Death Eater, but Harry had always thought the man was standoffish and evil. Cruel and heartless, cold, unapproachable were all words that sprang to mind when Harry used to hear Malfoy’s name. Now, he knew for definite that Lucius Malfoy had a heart and he wasn’t cold or cruel. The man was practical and realistic and used to being dealt and dealing out harsh truths. But he wasn’t heartless. Harry and he shared a suit of rooms, and at night when Lucius was alone he’d cry sometimes, in his sleep, and Harry would go into his room and run his fingers through Lucius’ hair until the man stopped crying and fell into a quiet sleep. Sometimes, Harry heard Lucius beg Narcissa for forgiveness.

There had even been occasions when Harry found himself leaning down to press a kiss to Lucius forehead as he slept and cried, and wished he had the courage to kiss the blond’s lips instead.

And then there was the night, at the end of November, when Lucius woke up as Harry’s hand carded through his locks. Harry had tensed up and he was certain that the blond would kill him, but instead, Lucius had pulled Harry down to lie in the bed beside him. A soft kiss had fallen on Harry’s neck as Lucius spooned behind him and fell back asleep.

Harry smiled to himself and pressed back against the blond. He didn’t know when or how it had happened, but he had fallen in love with Lucius Malfoy.

During all of this, School had started up again, and Christmas had come and gone. Lucius and Harry continued to share a bed for all of December as they stayed at the school for the holiday. They continued to hold lessons after classes had finished. Harry hadn’t argued as much as Lucius had assumed he would when they learnt the Dark Arts. Lucius even began teaching Harry Wizarding Culture and Etiquette, when he felt Harry was learning particularly well.

Harry could remember the first time Lucius told him he loved him. He smiled every single time he thought back on the night. That night, Lucius had been woken by Harry’s screaming. Harry had been sleeping peacefully one minute, and the next he was being attacked in his dreams by Sirius. Sirius was gaunt and angry, his skin peeling off in chunks and his eyes gouged out of his head. And Sirius had been cursing Harry for falling for a Malfoy and for getting him killed. And Sirius had laughed because Harry was going to get Lucius killed too. Lucius had rushed into Harry’s room that night and climbed straight into the bed, holding the young man against him.

“I love you, I’m sorry,” Harry whispered against his neck as Lucius brushed his hair away from his damp forehead. “Love you, don’t die. Don’t hate me.” The brunette whimpered, still asleep. “Lucius, please.”

“I love you too, Harry.” He replied, a small smile on his lips as he said the words for the first time in his life to anyone other than his son.

Harry’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Lucius’ voice. Then the words sunk in and the brunette’s lips turned upwards and he beamed at the blond. “I love you.” Harry repeated and then Lucius said the words back, and then Harry repeated them, over and over until Harry yawned and Lucius urged him to go back to sleep. The first thing Lucius had said to him the next morning was, “I still love you.” And Harry had repeated the words again.

Valentine’s Day was the happiest day of Harry’s life. At 16-years-old he was old enough to get married in both the Muggle and the Wizarding worlds, which meant legally there was nothing wrong with him being in a relationship with Lucius Malfoy. But to be safe, no one but Draco, Severus, Headmaster Dumbledore and Hermione Granger knew. Hermione was Harry’s best friend, and their other best friend would not take the news well so he wasn’t told.

While that small group of people waited in the Headmaster’s Office, Lucius took a deep breath and knocked on Harry’s bedroom door.

Classes had been cancelled for the day, because Dumbledore felt that the students needed something to cheer them up. So a small party was being held in the Great Hall for anyone interested.

Harry opened the door on the second knock. He’d been kept awake by dreams again and had decided to stay in bed to catch up on his rest. “Harry James Potter,” Lucius said taking both of Harry’s hands in his, “I love you with every fibre of my being, although it galls me to seem to soppy, I want to spend my life with you and makle sure everyone knows how much you mean to me. Will you marry me?” He got down on one knee, and held out a small velvet box.

“Men can marry each other?” Harry asked with wide eyes. Lucius nodded slowly. “YES!” He ignored the box completely, throwing himself at his lover – who he had yet to have sex with – and knocked them both to the floor. “YES!” He cried again.

Lucius opened the box and slipped the platinum and diamond ring onto Harry’s wedding finger.

“When are we getting married? When do you want to get married?” Harry asked excitedly as they stood up. Lucius led him into his own bedroom. On the bed were two pure white robes made of velvet and lace with a gold rope lying over each of them. Wedding robes. Harry gasped.

“How about now? I already asked Albus to officiate.” Harry and Lucius dressed themselves quickly and making use of the Marauders Map and James Potter’s invisibility cloak they made their way to the Headmaster’s Office unnoticed.

Hermione was the first to notice them arrive. She stood up from the chair she was sitting in and threw herself at her best friend. “Congratulations!” She whispered. When Harry had first told her about Lucius Malfoy she had been angry at Dumbledore for forcing them together and wary of the elder man harming her friend, but then he grew on her. The more Harry spoke about Lucius, the more she could see he really loved the blond. And now, watching Lucius watch Harry, she noticed that that blond loved her friend just as much.

Their vows were said with sincerity and tears of happiness, in secret from the world, but those who mattered knew about them and were happy for the couple. The couple embraced as Dumbledore pronounced them wed, and their lips met in a kiss so sweet and loving it made Snape tear up.

There was no time for a honeymoon, but Lucius promised to take Harry away at the first opportunity. When he was finished school after Seventh Year, Lucius vowed to give Harry the world. “I’ll settle for just seeing it, thanks.” The brunette quipped and the blond had kissed him again.

That night, they came together for the first time, expressing their love in the most carnal of way. Their passion driving them on, their need for the other overcoming all of their senses until they reached their completion, and sanity was at last allowed to return. Both tired, but satisfied, they drifted to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, and slipped into the arms of Morpheus. Both of them feeling safe, happy and loved.

Neither had nightmares that night.

The rest of the school year passed quickly. Draco and Harry became best friends. When there were times Harry couldn’t tell Hermione and especially Ron, he told Draco. And Draco understood and never judged him. Draco was never jealous of him, never blamed him for things beyond his control, and Draco knew when to be there for Harry and when to leave Harry alone. Harry felt horrid for seemingly abandoning his red headed friend, but he wanted to be selfish for once in his life. And both Malfoy’s were his family now. He needed them more than any other.

Lucius taught Harry all he knew about the Dark Arts, and despite his hatred for them, Harry was very good at mastering the Arts. Which came in handy when Voldemort got tired of waiting and waged war on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The 21st of May was a Monday, and it was also one of the most tragic days in Wizarding history, and the most joyous at the same time. While many people, Aurors, students and teachers, Death Eaters alike died that day, it was also the day the Dark Lord was finally defeated. Draco had avenged his mother, casting the Killing Curse at Rudolphus and Rabastian Lestrange when he spotted them; smirking viciously as they fell, dead, to the ground. He caught Harry’s eyes and shrugged an apology. Harry promised himself that he’d never bring it up, ever, after this day.

Lucius was busy fighting off Nott and Bellatrix when Voldemort’s voice boomed across the grounds of Hogwarts. “This time there will be no escape, Potter!” Lucius, along with everyone else, stopped what they were doing to watch the final showdown. Voldemort had Harry by the collar, lifting him high above the ground as he laughed and taunted the younger boy. “You will beg for death, boy.”

“I wish people would stop calling me that,” he choked out, his hands clawing at Voldemort’s trying to get them to loosen their grip. He was choking, and it bloody hurt, but he was damned if he was going to give up and die without a fight – or a few witty, insolent remarks.

He opened his mouth to say something offensive to Voldemort but thought better of it when he felt his lungs tighten painfully. He looked around, his eyes meeting Lucius’ wide, terrified grey ones. He smiled, feeling warm as he remembered his husband. He remembered how it felt to have Lucius within him, moving inside of his body, touching and kissing him; how it felt when Lucius took him in his arms and kissed away his tears; how it felt when they slept close to each other, protecting each other from nightmares; he felt safe, and loved every time they were together, and it made Harry happy that he had experienced those kind of feelings before he died.

Voldemort shrieked, and dropped Harry like he was on fire. Harry’s eyes widened and he looked up, noticing Voldemort was on fire, or his hands were at least: where they’d been touching Harry.

Love— Dumbledore said that Love was the power Voldemort knew not. Harry remembered how Quirrell had turned to dust when he was touch and he let out a hysterical laugh. He was going to die, he thought, he’d catch fire and burn along with Voldemort. But Voldemort would be dead though, he also realized. The fire in his hands had gone out by the time Harry came to a decision. He met Lucius’ eyes once more and grinned before he launched himself at Voldemort.

His arms and legs went around the man, who was desperately trying to pry Harry off. Harry closed his eyes and thought about Lucius. The more he thought about the blond man, the more Voldemort seemed to scream.

Draco felt a sick sort of pleasure watching Voldemort scream as he burnt to death. He remembered how the monster had enjoyed his mother’s screams, and he was just returning the favour, since his mother wasn’t here to enjoy the noise for herself.

When the screaming stopped, Draco was the first to rush over, followed by Lucius. They pulled Harry away from the burnt out husk that used to be Voldemort, and the brunette screamed at the pain of being touched. His entire front was burnt badly. Carefully, Lucius gathered his husband in his arms, and apparated to St. Mungos.

Draco made sure that, out of all the Death Eaters still alive, Bellatrix made it to Azkaban. He also made sure that there were a lot of Dementors outside of her cell at all hours of the day.

School finished early that year for the first time ever, and the students were sent home to recover. “Draco,” Dumbledore said when they were alone. “You may stay, if you wish, and tell your father that his room is still his for the next year if he wants it.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Draco didn’t particularly relish having to live alone with the memory of his deceased mother, while his father was in St. Mungos with Harry. Dumbledore left him alone outside. Just as he was turning to follow the man, walking in through the main doors of Hogwarts, he noticed a strange shadow out of the corner of his eye. He turned slowly, wand raised, just as a small, fat rat twisted and grew becoming Peter Pettigrew. His silver hand shined brightly as he lifted his arm to protect himself from the Stunning Spell Draco sent at him.

“Harry will be happy,” Draco muttered as he Levitated Wormtail through the school behind him to the Headmaster’s Office.

In St. Mungos, in the sever burns unit, Harry Potter – who had saved them from Voldemort again, this time for good – lay sleeping in a bed, his chest and stomach wrapped in bandages, his burns plastered in Potions to stop scaring. The blankets were pulled up over him, tucked under his chin. One of his hands peeked out the edge of the blanket, hanging over the side of the bed.

After checking to make sure there were no bandages or burns on the hand, Lucius Malfoy took it in his own, and held tightly to it. He sniffed softly and rubbed his nose with his sleeve, not caring if anyone noticed – which they didn’t because they were far too busy dealing with all the other patients.

“I love you,” he whispered and lay his head down on the pillow beside Harry, pulling the chair in closer to the bed. He was bent at an uncomfortable angle, trying to stay in the chair and reach Harry at the same time, but he didn’t want to risk hurting the brunette by getting into the bed with him, so he stayed where he was. Within moments, the day’s events had caught up to him, and he was sound asleep. As he slept, Harry’s hand squeezed around his own and the brunette woke up slowly.

He was swimming in a sea of pain, but he still managed a smile as he looked down on the blond man who enabled him to defeat Voldemort once and for all. He twisted his head to the side, pressing a kiss to the top of Lucius’ head, before he happily fell back to sleep.

His hand was still in Lucius’ when the Medi-Wizard came to check on him. And he was smiling in his sleep, so the Medi-Wizard let Lucius Malfoy stay.

Even if he didn’t know they were married.

XXX

1996 are the dates from 2006, 1997 are from 2007 and 1998 are what I think they’ll be in 2008, just so you know. I don’t have calendars that go back to 1990’s sorry.

Chapter 1 – Overture

Sunday June 18th 1996 Sirius Black fell threw the Veil at the Department of Mysteries.

Monday June 26th 1996 End of Harry’s Fifth Year at Hogwarts.

Monday August 10th 1996 Albus Dumbledore writes to Dursleys about Sirius’ death. Petunia complains about Harry not being related to her and insults James Potter.

Sunday August 13th 1996 Voldemort tortures Draco for not wanting to be a Death Eater. Tortures and kills Narcissa, Draco’s mother for protecting him. Draco escapes.

Monday August 14th 1996 Dumbledore speaks to Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban. He turns spy. Harry leaves Number 4 at Vernon’s orders, even though Dumbledore hasn’t replied to his letter yet.

Saturday August 19th 1996 Harry taken to Hogwarts. Lucius and Draco Malfoy are spies.

Friday September 1st 1996 Sixth Year starts. Lucius teaches Harry dark arts privately.

Wednesday November 29th 1996 Lucius pulls Harry into the bed with him.

Wednesday February 14th 1997 Harry and Lucius are bonded by Dumbledore. Hermione Granger invited to the wedding. PUBLIC HOLIDAY

Monday May 21st 1997 Voldemort is defeated. Rudolphus Lestrange killed and Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black widowed and sent to Azkaban. Wormtail caught. Harry in St. Mungos.

XXX

Thanks for reading the first chapter. It’s really not part of the summary-story but I thought a bit of back information was needed or the rest of the story won’t make sense. The chapters are planned to get longer! Bare in mind that Lucius is a different person when he isn’t in the public eyes. He may be kind to Harry and Draco, but he’ll be the same old bastard to everyone else.

Please review, thanks very much in advance. I hope to see you all in chapter 2!