Quick note: This story is absolutely positively complete. The only thing that needs to be worried about is grammar and trying my hardest to make sure it doesn't go loopy. I've had it in my documents for quite a long time and I believe now is the right time to post it. If to only show that I "DO" have intentions on finishing all my stories before ever posting them. Thank you and please - enjoy this has been one of my favourite ones to write. It was fun and I wrote it non-stop until I ended it. I believe for a first time of me doing this pairing, I didn't do so bad. My first Harry/Cedric didn't turn out so spiffy. Lol.

Longer Summary: AU:The life of Harry is never easy and finding a long lasting mate who won't use and misuse him becomes very difficult. Harry's suffering, nobody notices, except for one Slytherin man and it was all by accident. What happens when Harry finds himself falling for a professor, ex-Deatheater, and a Slytherin all at once? HPLM Lucius/Harry

Hanging By A Moment -

By: A.J.


Lifestyles of the rich and the famous; the flowing dress robes of immaculate and tasteful elegance. The smell of over a thousand fragrances washed across the gorgeous black and white marble ballroom floors of the Minister of Magic's voluptuous manor. There were smiles exchanged and their eyes all twinkled with delight upon seeing one another in such a wonderful format. Women and men walked by and smiled deviously, their eyes raking up and down several prospects that they wished to take home for the night. It didn't matter to them that they were married nor did it matter if one of the prospects happened to be in school.

It was all about looks, money, and fame. The more money you had the better you looked, the more fame you possessed the better recognition you received. It was disgusting, and the only person in the room who wasn't smiling or enjoying himself was sitting at a bar, overpaying the bartender to slide him drinks when his parents weren't watching.

He was an ethereal being, possibly the most famous of all wizards in the hall and the world combined. His hair straight black just passed his shoulders and curved gracefully around his ghostly white oval shaped face. His eyes underneath the black fringe was an immaculate gem of green and his lashes would make any female or male swoon and hungry for his slender figure. He wasn't as tall as most of the males in his teenage years, five foot six, but he was still growing. However, the most distinct feature on the young teenager was the fact that he had a well known scar in the shape of a bolt of lightning underneath his bangs. Not one of his finest hours of living, he was sure.

Harry James Potter had no idea why he was dragged continuously from ball to ball, when his parents knew just how much he despised the fake formalities. He enjoyed being with his friends and ignoring the propaganda of every day living. His mother only ever attended them because of his father, who was the Ministry of Magic's most trusted Secretary of Defence. Then again, it might be because of the way the names were arranged on the invitation cards.

The hall was decked out in white and amethyst purple, the best of the best had been brought in and waiters and waitresses walked around with champagne and wine on silver trays. Harry had just finished consuming a muggle drink known as Ice Bomb, it was a tasty little drink mixed with blue/raspberry juice and most importantly three different kinds of muggle vodka. Not as strong as Ogden's finest, but it didn't make Harry's throat feel as if it were on fire. He had been doing this most of the night, sliding the man two galleons more than he was owed and in return he got the drink of his choice.

Money made the world go round, thought the teenager dryly. A warm fuzzy feeling began to settle over Harry's young frame as he called out for a jello shot and then directly after that a Bentley.

"You know, kid I can get in trouble over you." scowled the Bartender, who had short brown hair and a scruffy beard.

Harry by this time had glassy green eyes and an intoxicated look about him, he reached into the folds of his black and navy blue dress robes and pulled out five more galleons and then added it to the top of his original tip. "How about now?" asked the teen with a teasing smirk.

The man's eyes lit up and he nodded, "One Bentley coming right up-"

"Good man!" declared Harry raising his hand in praise. He took the drink and downed it in one go. He grimaced at the apple taste, it wasn't exactly his favourite, but it would do.

If his parent's dragging him to this damn ball wasn't bad enough then his broken relationship with a seventh year Ravenclaw, Roger Davies simply made things worse.

"Well, if it isn't the little saviour of the world… Mr. Potter," drawled a voice from behind the black haired teen. "I do not believe what my eyes are seeing."

Harry smirked deviously, and threw down another galleon to the bartender and swivelled around on his barstool; his eyes falling on the creature that was his Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts. The man had always been a right pain in his arse. Although, fucking hot as hell, and it wasn't the alcohol talking - Harry had always known this ever since he had stumbled across the man's path in first year.

He was pretty formidable, standing there in silver and black robes of silk that

hugged against his tall and well built frame. He had long platinum blonde hair that was pulled back with a silver and black ribbon. He had a snake cane in his gloved hands, which was concealment for his wand and his eyes were icy blue. He had a strong jaw line and very nice lips.

However, with that put aside…

"Lucius Malfoy." said Harry, his smirk never leaving his gorgeous features. "I would say, it was a surprise, to see you here -" He waved his hand, "But, that's a fucking lie." He said dismissively.

"That is some language, coming from such a young mouth." said the man in a silky voice. He came around and sat down next to Harry, blocking the view of his parents.

"A lot more can come from my mouth, Professor." purred Harry, with a tipsy laugh. He ran his finger over the top of Lucius' snake cane in a suggestive manner.

"Do you realize what you're doing?" asked Lucius, quirking a crafted eyebrow, "You are coming onto an older man, a teacher nonetheless." Harry laughed wickedly, and looked over at the bartender, and ordered another drink. "Mr. Potter, I believe you've had enough." said Lucius, firmly.

"Hey! Don't you tell me what I've had enough of." scowled the teen. "I've been dragged here against my will and I have to put up with the pretentious, narcissistic, and thoughtless minds of people who think they are too good for anyone else. I have to sit here and listen to the fake laughs - the uncaring air that waves through this fucking hall. I don't want to be here-" Harry's green eyes had narrowed, and he lowered his head, too alcohol-induced to notice that he had placed his chin delicately against Lucius' arm.

Lucius paused for a moment and stared down at the disgruntled sixteen-year-old. His eyes were soul-locking and dangerous; if you weren't careful you would fall into those eyes and never return. Lucius Malfoy had only ever seen eyes like that a few times in his existence, and Harry Potter possessed a set. It didn't help matters that his face looked pure and innocent and his black hair folding around the porcelain features he inhabited made him something that was ultra rare.

It was almost a pity that he was a Gryffindor, seventeen, and his student.

"Mr. Potter-" began Lucius slowly.

"Oh please, we aren't in school." Mumbled Harry offhandedly. His eyes flickered brightly up at him, and Lucius had to look away, straight at the bar where all the whisky and wine products were lined up in front of a plate mirror.

It would take absolutely nothing, at the moment to coax this teenager into his bed. He had done it on more than one occasion, however, the prospect was older, over the age limit and they weren't his former students. But, no, he could not do that. Not that Harry Potter wouldn't let him, it was obvious at this rate, and the Gryffindor would be up for anything. But, Lucius found himself looking around the room and then back to Harry, whose eyes were opening and closing continuously. All of the propriety he came to the ball with had left and it was replaced by a good looking drunk teenager.

The boy was susceptible to anyone, "Mr. Potter, you need to get a hold of yourself." hissed the man, going into teacher mode. Harry's hand moved and ran along his knee; Lucius straightened once again when he felt the contact. He quickly let his eyes fall on the couple in the crowd that were Harry Potter's parents. "Potter, get your hand off my knee." Lucius hissed once again but this time more lethal than before. He was hoping the teen would get out of the danger zone.

Harry only smiled, and rubbed the man's knee, sliding slowly upwards, until Lucius' brought a gloved hand down and grabbed the smaller hand before it could go any further. The Hogwart's teacher was already having thoughts of defiling the young ravenous boy at his side; he could not allow it to happen. The Headmaster gave him a second chance for a reason, and he would be damned if he blew it.

The strange thing about all this occurring was Harry being so straightforward. All five years of Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy had watched the world's saviour from a distance and saw that he was a very quiet and shy child who despised fame and attention with his very being. He never made the first move around anyone unless he knew them well and was comfortable within their presence.

Yes, alcohol certainly brought out a different side to the boy who was quickly turning into a teasing minx.

"Potter, you will keep your hands to yourself…"

Harry pouted, "You're no fun!" he raised his head up, hand still caught in Lucius' gloved one. "Hmph, you may be a bastard-" Lucius almost smiled at that. "But, at least you are human." He scowled with disgust. "An aristocratic bastard, but a human all the same."

Harry Potter and alcohol, not the best of combinations Lucius Malfoy assessed. He was trying hard to remain firm and hateful toward the drunk teen.

"Mr. Potter, you need to gather yourself! Sit up properly!" He ordered, sharply.

Harry raised his head, and stared at him a moment, then he giggled. "Make me." He said, and then childishly stuck out his tongue.

"You really want me to make you?" asked Lucius, his face trying to conceal the amusement.

Harry chuckled and scooted closer and leaned in so very close, that Lucius could feel the teen's tangy sweet breath against his face, "I want you-" breathed Harry, his soft pouty lips almost brushed the man's cheek. It took a lot for Lucius to remain as calm as he was, "Lucius Malfoy, I want you to make me-" Purred the Gryffindor, seductively.

Lucius was fighting the light-headed feeling that Harry Potter was provoking. He remained expressionless, although his eyes glittered, feeling as if he were wrapping around the teen. Lucius pushed closer with his hand clinging to Harry's afraid to let it go, that it would fall right on his twitching crotch. Harry's right hand moved from its place on the bar, and ran across Lucius' shoulder squeezing and feeling around the silk robes. "Mr. Potter - not in public-"

Harry giggled, and waved his hand dismissively, "You're shielding me. No one dares to bad mouth you, Lucius Malfoy."

"That is because I do not allow them too." Lucius stated firmly. "If they so much as wrote one poor quality about me, I would rip the Daily Prophet to shreds. You Potters are too nice."

Harry laughed haughtily, and grumbled lowly as he ran his hands along Lucius shoulder, ignoring the man's glare or demand to stop, "Maybe, I'm tired of having someone whose nice." His voice had changed, from giggly and happy to a look of utter betrayal.

"What on earth are you talking about?" asked Lucius, about ready to give up on trying to push the teen away; every time he batted the hand on his shoulder off, it would slide back in place. He couldn't deny that it wasn't nice. Actually, it was comforting. It had been years since that word swam into his mind. He was all too aware of the smaller hand that was covered with his and pressing almost - relaxed against his lap. He was unsure if he should let the hand go, afraid of where it would land. He was taking no chances.

Harry snorted, "Do not pretend, you did not gaze at the Daily Prophet-"

Lucius paused for a moment, "Which day?"

"Our Saviour's Quidditch Raven Falls Into the Nest of Others…" Lucius winced inwardly, but he remained passive and did not speak. Harry glowered, "It was the best birthday present I've ever fucking had-" He remarked cynically, he slumped his shoulders dejectedly. "If he didn't want a relationship with me, why did he continue it all year long? I could have found someone else…" He began to ramble. His hand had stopped on Lucius' shoulder and was holding on instead of rubbing; he looked faraway. "It would have been so much easier, if he had just told me that he didn't want to be in a relationship, instead of just yanking me around on a fucking chain!" Harry was going downward from the drinking, and his face had reddened with humiliation.

Lucius couldn't help but feel for Harry, his first relationship and it ended in disaster on his birthday of all days; that could not be a pleasant feeling, "He wanted the fame out of it, Harry." Lucius had muttered this in a low voice. He shifted so that his shoulder was in the way of his lips and no one could catch what he was saying, "That's all he wanted, with your kind of fame; I am sure it is difficult to find someone who does not crave it."

"Meh, I dunno-"

"Do not know." corrected Lucius automatically.

This caused Harry to stick out his tongue lazily. "I don't know." He laughed weakly, and then pressed his chin against the hand that was on Lucius' shoulder, and he was looking far off.

"Better." said a smirking Lucius

"You know - to make matters worse, my father and godfather decide to tell me the most famous lines of all stupid people when they want to try and make you feel better, but it only worsens -"

"I told you so." Lucius finished for Harry.

Harry shook his head, "I'd like to tell them so with a kick right up their arses… that doesn't help." Lucius was beginning to wonder, if Harry understood just who he was rambling too. "I mean, there were a lot of things about our relationship, which I didn't like very well. I was a tad bit uncomfortable, but it was good for the most part." mumbled the raven-haired boy.

"He was a stupid kid." responded Lucius dryly. "Kids don't know what they want."

"But, I do!" declared Harry, not realizing what he was saying. "I know what I want!"

"What is that, Harry?" He found himself asking. He was walking into territories that he should not walk through, but he couldn't help himself.

"I want," He paused a moment and raised his head from Lucius' shoulder, "I want loyalty, I want someone and not just a random fuck, either. I - I want-" He seemed unable to find the words. He was struggling; even drunk his subconscious mind could not pull the correct answers to the front.

Instead of pushing the question, Lucius asked, "You said there were things about your relationship you did not like-"

Harry blushed and lowered his head, "I took control-" He mumbled. "It wasn't all that easy to be myself. I don't want to do the controlling! I do that enough in my life as it is…"

"Ah," said Lucius, realizing Harry's confusion, "You are a submissive Harry." He could not believe he was telling a student this. He raised his hand to the bartender, "Gin and tonic." He said firmly to the bartender, who had been trying to stay away from Harry the entire time, in fear of him calling another round of drinks.

Harry sighed and pressed his head against Lucius once again. The man simply stared at Harry, trying to decipher him. The bartender slid the drink to him, and quickly scurried away at the pointed look Lucius sent him. "I guess I just want to hand over a few things to someone else. Let them deal with it, not me. I'm not good at that. I'm good at acting on a whim, I'm daring, I am great at Defence whether you like it or not." He said the last bit about being good at Defence in a teasing voice, "I'm not a relationship controller! I just - I am not comfortable in that situation."

"Of course not, nine times out of ten a male is one or the other, it's rare that they're universal."

"How would I know? I've been with one guy sexually my entire life, me in control. I mean I don't count casual kisses and what not-" He murmured, his hand running up and down Lucius' arm unconsciously.

"Personally, I can't see you in control in the bedroom." pointed out Lucius, knowing very well he was stepping out of his territory into a steam of hot water.

"Really? You don't see me as a controller of the bedroom?"

"No, nor in a relationship." Lucius shook his head, "It's no wonder that relationship went under. You're both submissive…"

He knew this was a very risky conversation and in the middle of a formal ball nonetheless at the Minister of Magic's Manor. He found himself looking around shrewdly, and relieved to see that not many people noticed. He covered nearly all of Harry's frame in the corner of the bar, and the only other people at the bar was an old lady ordering a Sherry and a tall thin man with a wire moustache. He looked back to Harry, when the boy brushed around his gloved hand. Lucius tried to shrug the boy's hand from his, but it did no good.

"You have a point Lucius." whispered Harry, "Two submissive doesn't work-"

"Just like two dominants don't naturally get on - especially in the bedroom."

"Makes sense to me."

It got quiet between the two; Lucius was cursing himself for having such a conversation with a sixteen-year-old. However, as he looked over at Harry, he saw that the boy was looking a bit more content and less flustered. He could hear the music going in the background, couples everywhere were dancing.

A man walked up to Lucius and shook his hand, he could not recall the man's name but he had a feeling it had something to do with St. Mungo's because he was banging on about the Asylum Ward and how it had been refurbished.

"It was my pleasure," stated Lucius straightening up. He tried to shrug Harry off him, but the teen was now half asleep. He saw the man's eyes fall to Harry Potter and he beamed.

"Harry Potter!"

"Friend of my sons." Lied Lucius, glancing at the black haired boy, who was anything but.

"Ah, really, that's wonderful! I heard how mean the papers were. That foul Davies boy…"

"Yes, well, he's getting on just fine. He doesn't need prying eyes and false whispers." Lucius couldn't believe he was defending Harry's pride. He was defending a Gryffindor! Bloody hell, that doesn't happen every day.

"Oh, I totally agree with you, Mr. Malfoy," After a few more random comments, the man left to find his wife.

"Harry!" Hissed Lucius, releasing the boy's hand which dropped in his lap. He tapped the boy on the cheek, and he jerked.

"Hmm?" murmured Harry, hardly comprehending. He was really intoxicated, now that the alcohol had settled in him.

"Come out of it. You're still at the ball."

Harry rose up and he gave a groan of sheer misery, he moved from Lucius' touch and brought his hands up and covered his blood shot eyes with his palms. His heart was sinking and it felt as if someone had sliced it with a silver sharp knife. He started to breathe heavier, ignoring the man next to him. The world seemed to spin even with the palms over his eyes, shielding himself from the washed up faces and powder white walls. He coughed painfully, and his stomach began to react; the alcohol started to turn on him.

He was hardly aware of the bristling next to him or the hand that came to rest on the small of his back. "Harry!" Breathed his Defence teacher. "Get a hold of yourself."

But, Harry had been getting a hold of himself; he'd done it for two straight weeks, ignoring the pity, brushing off the faces he had to look at everyday. He could only take so much and now, being out with all these people - the same people who probably looked at him with pity or even laughed about how big of a joke he was, and how someone close to him had yanked at his heartstrings.

He coughed again and felt his stomach swim. A hand ran up his back and to the base of his neck; he felt himself being pulled from the bar, "Come on, up you go…" Whispered Lucius.

Harry dropped his palms and then brought his arm up to block his ashamed eyes. Harry pressed himself into the man's personal space and allowed himself to be led off. Where they were going, Harry didn't know, but he had to get out of there before anyone spotted him. Spotted Harry Potter crying.

Lucius could not believe, what he had witnessed; Harry Potter having an emotional break down in the middle of the Minister of Magic's Ball. The teen tried to control it, by bringing his hands up to his face to stop the flow, but it was doing no good. His slender frame began to shake, and Lucius could only stand up quickly and push closer to Harry to keep others from looking over suspiciously. He swiftly had Harry up, and was guiding him around the bar, where there were less people watching. The Potter Heir began to use him as a shield to block his eyes; he lead them through a set of double French doors and along the grand hallway, his robes billowing behind with it usual grace. He pushed against one of the restroom doors at the end of the grand hall and led Harry through. Seeing it was empty, he placed a locking spell upon the door, and then placed his snake cane down on a stand next to a flower pot. He pulled the teen off him and shook the boy's shoulders, and tapped his cheek with his hand. "Harry!"

Harry felt his ears ringing and a waving sensation, and he could barely comprehend Lucius calling his name. He was so distraught, so sick of all the hype. He shook his head furiously, and moved from Lucius and brought his hands to his ears, the tears falling out behind closed lids. He didn't jump as the lights began to flicker or flinch when a mirror busted. He was so overwhelmed that the flower pot next to them shattered in two and the roses wilted.

Lucius just watched as everything began to turn chaotic, due to the powerful emotions Harry was feeling; pulling off his gloves, Lucius did the only thing he could think of and cupped his cheeks, and forced his head up, "Look at me, Harry!" Lucius demanded sharply. "Open your eyes, now."

Harry sniffed and lifted the lid's that covered his eyes and Lucius was graced by emeralds that were swimming in tears. "I tried!" said the cracked voice. "I tried, to keep it in, to s- s-" He began to cough and he tried to bow his head but Lucius wouldn't let him. Harry shook his head, "No use-" His voice was helpless, "Everyone- not just him." said Harry, his eyes glittering and draining with tears.

The crying teen began to feel his stomach rolling and rumbling; he had not been aware of the destruction he caused in the bathroom when he had been so overwhelmed with pain. But, now, Harry's worry was on his burning stomach. The flaming sensation spread from his stomach to his back and up into his chest, causing him to sweat, and his throat to throb. "I-"

Lucius raised his eyes to the ceiling, "Merlin, what did I do to deserve this?" He murmured, before steering Harry to the toilet, where he dropped to his knees instantly, and the boy found a new friend. He gathered Harry's soft hair and held it together while his other hand rubbed against his back; when he had thoughts of Harry Potter on his knees, he hadn't meant in this fashion.

When Harry's throat and reflexes couldn't take anymore, he heaved heavily feeling the whiplash on the back of his neck and two helping hands, touching him and soothing him. He closed his eyes and shook his head, when someone let go of his hair and walked away. He sat there on his knees and heard the water running somewhere in the distance, but his mind and his eyes were so far away at the moment, that he was hardly aware of a hand gripping the back of his neck and a cold washcloth pressed in against his mouth. The water dribbled into his dry and chapped mouth.

He shook his head visibly, and then turned to see Lucius having lowered himself slightly, a cloth in his hand. For a moment, Harry thought he saw a flicker of concern, but then it had gone and was replaced by annoyance. "Are you finished?"

"I'm sorry." He shook his head, "I- I can't believe-"

"Breath in." said Lucius, the cloth placed to the boy's mouth. "If not you'll rip your throat." His vocals already felt as if they had been stripped, but he did as he was told. "There- do you recall what happened?" The man's voice was soft, and Harry saw it again. A flash of concern.

"Yeah, I am - I am so sorry," said Harry, "I did not mean to break down on you. I just, I was not having a good night."

"I never would have guessed." stated Lucius, dryly. "Up, no need to scuff your robes."

Harry shakily reached out to Lucius, who grabbed his hand and helped him stand. "I -" He looked over at the broken mirror, flower pot, and the wilted flowers. "Oh dear, I didn't mean to do that."

"Of course not." said Lucius, "I doubt I could do that."

Harry looked over at him, "Thank you, Lucius." He said, feeling vulnerable, he crossed his arms shyly. His human nature coming back.

"I've been there." Was all he said, before moving from Harry's being and banishing the cloth and repairing the damage that had been done.

"Yeah, I'm sure you have." said Harry, "But at least you weren't slandered in the papers."

"Nor, was it on my birthday." Lucius reminded.

"Yeah-" said Harry, croakily.

"You'll get over it." said Lucius swiftly. He picked up his gloves and his cane. He headed for the door. He had a feeling, that Harry would not want him anywhere near him, now that he was sobering up.

"Wait!" called Harry, moving swiftly he bumped into a table along the way. He was feeling a dull ache in his head but he was more coherent now that most of the alcohol had left his system.

Lucius turned, "Hmm?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, and then he daringly leaned up and pressed a kiss to Lucius on the cheek, "Thanks." His eyes held sincerity.

For a moment Lucius was surprised. He did this while sober. That wasn't normal. Then with a firm nod he responded, "Good night." He left, leaving Harry feeling a sense of relief wash over him. It was a relief he had not felt sense he saw the Daily Prophet.

Ten minutes later, Harry was assessing himself, brushing his hair out and adjusting the two earrings in his ear. One his right side, Harry had a cross and then a small white diamond in the other. When Harry pulled the creases out of his clothes and tucked them back in properly, he headed out of the bathroom and down the lavish hall back toward the ball.

He entered with his head held high, his mother and father apparently, had been looking for him. His mother, a beautiful redhead with the same matching green eyes as her son, wrapped him in a warm hug. She looked beautiful wearing a silver dress and a see through silvery cloak over her bare shoulders. Her hair was up in a French twist, while Harry's father was wearing dark navy robes with lines of silver. Harry and his mother were the exact same height. James was about four inches taller. His black hair messy and he loved every second of it.

"Harry! There you are! We wondered where you had gone off too!"

James smirked, "I bet you a thousand galleons, dear love, he was at the bar drinking himself to death-" He gave his son a playful look when Harry shot him a glare.

She scowled at her husband and slapped him on the arm, "Don't say things like that! Harry, you didn't drink did you?" She looked back at him, "You're too young."

"No mum, I haven't been drinking." He gave his father a rightful glare. "I was outside sulking about you two dragging me here."

"Oh, Harry, you know you had to come. Your name was in front of ours!" exclaimed Lily, "Now, come on, dance with me, I'm sick of your father stepping on my feet."

"It was an accident!" He insisted, but his smile was too devilish and didn't fool his mother.

"Sure, it was! I need a real man, who knows how to dance." She pulled her son by the hand; he couldn't help but laugh at his parent's silly behaviour. "Not embarrassed to dance with your mummy now are you?"

Harry shook his head, even if he was, he would never admit to it. "Of course not mum."

The married couple never noticed that Harry had been drinking himself into a depression, nor did they ever notice him being comforted by a former Slytherin and Deatheater. The two never seemed to notice the most critical things in Harry life.