A/N Hello all. I've been bit by this rabit plot bunny and have decided to share. I'm taking great liberties with Incubi/Succubae, but I feel that since they're mythical creatures, tweaking them to suit the needs of this story aren't all that bad. In anycase, I've got a few warnings to get out of the way. THIS IS SLASH! There, that said, if you don't like the man-on-man lovin' don't read. Although, nothing much happens now, it'll most definately happen later. Here, I'll be posting the edited, 'R' or 'M' rated, on a few other, more liberal sites, I'll be posting the 'M+' or 'NC-17' rated version. There won't be much differences, but enough to matter. No worries, really. Warning 2, this is Lucius/Harry pairing. I'm not doing anything too dark, just dealing with some issues. So, with that out of the way, enjoy reading.

Disclaimer: All rights and such and blah, blah, blah, belong to J. K. Rowling, goddess and all supreme writer person. No money of any kind is being made off of this twisted tribute to her wonderful skills. Without her, there would be no Lucius and Harry, so let us all bow down to her superior imagination and not sue me for my hubris in thinking I could possibly be as talented as she.

When Harry, Ron and Hermione walked into the Great Hall for breakfast one fine, late November morning, they were met with a barrage of noise. Harry was quick--and very thankful—to notice that all the excitement had absolutely nothing to do with him.

"What's going on?"

Harry rolled his eyes and just started walking towards the table, Ron and Hermione following. It was too early, and his stomach was too empty to deal with Ron and his lack of thought provoking--or even thought provoked--conversation.

Hermione on the other hand was always ready and able to handle the redhead.

"Oh honestly, Ron! How would we know? We've only just arrived. And with you, I might add."

"It's too early in the morning for you to try and have any truly cognizant thoughts, Ron.

Why don't you sit down and eat before you try again?"

Ron scowled when everyone within hearing range of the comments laughed. However, he didn't argue; it was all said in good fun. Ron was never completely capable of forming anything intelligent until he'd eaten, and Ron was the first to admit it.

Harry picked some food--mostly fruits and a bagel--and put them on his plate.

"So, what's all the commotion about anyway?" Harry looked up from a particularly ripe, red strawberry, waiting for his answer.

"Well, you notice Malfoy is not here, right?" At Dean's question, Ron and Hermione looked over. Harry just nodded, already knowing that. The first thing he did when entering a room was take stock of who all was there.

"Well, the Daily Prophet ran a story on his father. It seems he and his wife went to a party for the Minister of Magic, and Mrs. Malfoy was, shall we say, a little too in her cups."

Harry's eyes widened in understanding, trying to picture the scene, while Hermione sighed at Ron's uncomprehending look.

"She was drunk, Ron." Now Ron's eyes widened.

Seamus was the one who picked up the story as Dean just ate a bit of his porridge; which Seamus had charmed to act like cement and glue Dean's mouth shut. The Irishman cleared his throat.

"Anyway, apparently she wasn't happy about something having to do with good Lord Malfoy, because the Lady Malfoy started speaking mightily loud; airing the family's dirty laundry--as it were. And one of the juicy bits of scandal she voiced was Lucius Malfoy, poster child--er, person--for the epitome of pure bloodedness; is not quite as pure as commonly thought."

Seamus paused dramatically. It seemed he'd captured everyone's attention in the direct vicinity. The Irish lad knew how to weave a fine tale; even for those who already knew the story. Even Dean, whose mouth was still trapped shut, arms crossed, and glaring blood and daggers at Seamus, was rapt into the tale.

"'Tis a curse, some say; a boon say others; A man who can feed off of the energy of another human. And not just any energy, no; but sexual energy. A creature that woos and entices its victims; who seduces its prey; drawing them to sexual peak over and over again. They say its touch is addictive, that once felt, a person would do anything, give anything--even his soul--to only lay eyes upon this creatures angelic face; to be touched; however fleetingly, just one…more…time."

"What creature?" Harry held his breath; glad someone else asked the question and not him. Sometimes he wished the wizarding world came with a manual of some sort. But Neville asked and Harry listened.

"An Incubus of course. Read the article for yourselves."

Seamus tossed his copy of the Daily Prophet on the table, and then turned to remove the charm from Dean's breakfast. There was a scramble to reach the paper; but Harry's seeker reflexes allowed him to reach the paper first. He held it out far enough so Ron and Hermione could read it also. Harry skipped the part Seamus told and read farther down.

It is widely assumed that Incubi can feed off of anyone. While this is true, there is one certain individual with whom they are most compatible. Incubi can more easily feed--and to a fuller extent--from that individual. After the Incubus finds that one person, he will not feed from anyone else.

The female counter-part to an Incubus is a Succubus, and the same rules apply to them. Not much is know about Incubi and Succubae.

Harry stopped reading then, as he noticed that the Great Hall went uncharacteristically silent. They looked up and noticed that Draco Malfoy had walked into the Great Hall, causing its silence. All movement, all conversation; everything stopped--even the teachers. Every eye was on Draco, shamelessly staring. Harry almost felt sorry for the blond Slytherin, knowing what it was like being stared at. But then he remembered this was Malfoy he was almost feeling sorry for; the feelings automatically disappeared.

"Hey, if Malfoy's dad is an Incubus, wouldn't that make Malfoy one too?"

Admittedly, Ron had a good point. The food must have jump-started his brain. All eyes turned to Hermione, who just rolled her eyes.

"Oh honestly. There aren't many books on Incubi--that's plural for Incubus before anyone asks--but they are referenced with vampires. That article in the Prophet, I'm sorry to say, has the most information. But from what little there is referenced about Incubi, it's almost like a muggle cancer. It's a mutation in the very genetic make-up of one's cells."

Many of the wizard-borns didn't completely understand the muggle reference, but the muggle-borns did. Dean spoke up, shattering many confused expressions.

"Do you mean to say that Malfoy's father has a disease?" The incredulity in Dean's voice would have been humorous if not for the actual words of his statement. Hermione was in lecture mode. She was eerily reminiscent of Professor McGonagall.

"To put it so bluntly--yes. How it's contracted however, is still up for debate. No one knows if it's like vampires or lycans and passed on with a bite, or if it's a curse, or even if it's hereditary. Therefore, it is entirely possible that Draco Malfoy may also be an Incubus--or not."

Classes passed by that week and everyone's favorite topic was Incubi, Lord Malfoy, and his fate. Many of the females, and even many males, were all curious about his Incubus nature. Particularly about whether or not he'd be a good fuck. Since he was an Incubus, he had to be a master of pleasure, right? Apparently, young Malfoy wasn't taking it nearly as bad as anyone had originally believed. Of course, most everyone in school now believed Malfoy to be some sort of sexual god due to his father's being a sexual creature.

The weekend came and everyone from third-year and up was looking forward to the monthly Hogsmeade weekend. The students going all filed down the lanes towards the awaiting carriages. Harry watched the thestrals for a moment before settling into one of the carriages.

Ron, Hermione and Neville filled in also. The trip was quiet. Ron was dozing, Hermione was reading, Neville was again, admiring his new wand, and Harry was watching the scenery go by.

Their first stop upon reaching the village was Honeydukes. Candy of various kinds was always necessary--as was sugar in almost any form. When they entered, the quartet saw most of the other students had the same idea. The story was packed to overflowing, and like some

sort of fleshy vacuum, it sucked Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville inside with them.

"IT'S A MAD HOUSE IN HERE!" Ron had to yell and was still barely heard.


"WHERE DO YOU SUGGEST THEN HERMIONE!" They were pushing their way out thought the crowd, which kept getting thicker and thicker. They all grabbed hands and formed a human chain.


So Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville found themselves standing outside the Three Broomsticks. Harry turned to watch some passing third years; hearing them laugh brought a small smile to his face. Almost halfway into his sixth year, those third years seem comparably young. Harry didn't think he'd ever been that young.

Harry turned towards the others to enter the establishment, but found the way blocked by one Draco Malfoy.