Warnings: masturbation, explicit m/m oral and anal sex (LEMON!)
The war was over. Voldemort was dead. The general mood in the Great Hall was a strange, nearly hysterical mix of relief, giddiness, and sorrow. Harry had never realized before that one could actually laugh and sob at the same time. The reactions that people had to the sight of Harry Potter, slayer of the Dark Lord, varied widely. A woman Harry vaguely recognized from Hogsmeade clamped herself to his leg while she bawled out her gratitude, forcing him to drag her along as he walked. A Ravenclaw offered to go to the nearest broom closet with Harry and perform a sexual favor. A grief-stricken boy, still covered with his sister's blood, screamed obscenities at Harry.
A figure huddled under a table caught Harry's attention. He bent down to find Goyle glaring at him with reddened eyes. "You'll be all right," Harry told him. Surely someone that thick couldn't be held responsible for anything.
Harry heard a woman's voice, softly repeating the phrase, "It's all right, darling." It was Narcissa Malfoy, her arms clasped around her son's waist like she was afraid she'd drown if she let go. Draco's eyes were far away. Lucius Malfoy approached his family; the uncertainty of his expression looked strange upon the face that was once so arrogant. He tentatively reach a hand out to his wife, and she literally snapped at it, as if she was a cornered animal. "Get away from us! You've brought us nothing but misery!" Her shrill voice cut through the hubbub in the Great Hall. People fell silent, watching the family drama unfold.
"Cissy, you're just a little overwrought." Lucius tried to pat his wife on the shoulder.
"Don't patronize me! You nearly got my boy killed, and I can never forgive you for that." Narcissa buried her face against her son's shoulder.
"Draco?" Lucius said plaintively. His son just looked away.
Lucius stood in the middle of the Hall, a figure of Shakespearean tragedy, a man destroyed by his own hubris. When the Aurors arrived to take him away, he didn't resist them. He didn't say a word.
Harry found himself experiencing a most unexpected emotion: pity for Lucius Malfoy.
"Why, Harry Potter, how nice it is to see you today!" The prison guard tipped his hat.
Harry looked at the guard, but it was no one he recognized. He could never get used to complete strangers acting like they knew him. "I'm here to see Lucius Malfoy."
"Ah, that one. Follow me." The interior of Azkaban was as gloomy as its exterior. It was windowless gray rock, damp and cold and unwelcoming. The Ministry had to pay high salaries to attract prison employees to this place. The rough corridor floor rose as they walked, a seemingly endless curving ramp lined with iron doors. The guard paused before one of the doors, wand out. "Here we are. Will you be long, Mr. Potter?"
"An hour, I think."
"Accio chair." A chair came flying around the corridor's upper bend, and the guard caught it neatly in one hand. Lucius, who was sitting on his bunk reading, looked up in surprise when the door opened. The guard set the chair inside the cell. "For your comfort, Mr. Potter. I'm afraid I'll have to lock you in with him so he doesn't try to make a runner, but you should be safe as long as you have your wand. Send a Patronus to the entrance when you're ready to leave."
Lucius stood up and reached out to greet Harry politely. "I must express my gratitude to you for keeping my wife and son out of this place." His hand was smooth and cool in Harry's. "You're an Auror already? You seem so young."
"I have... unique experience. How are you faring in here?" Making chitchat with Lucius Malfoy felt strange to Harry.
Witha wry smile, Lucius replied, "Much better than my last visit here, I must admit. The lice are far less ferocious, there's a library and a shower room, and I am actually allowed out of my cell for an hour a day."
"You have Hermione Granger to thank for that. She's been instrumental in the movement for prison reform."
Lucius looked at the floor as he sat back down on the bunk. "Give Miss Granger my regards. Was she also responsible for the change of costume? This really isn't my style, but it's far better than those hideous striped pajamas they used to make us wear."
It was a bit unnatural, Lucius Malfoy dressed all in denim, with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. "I believe the Ministry thought that jeans and workshirts would be more practical." Sitting on the cheap metal folding chair, Harry looked Lucius over. His hair was clean and neatly tied back. His face was thinner and more deeply lined than it had been when Harry had first met him, with hollows under the eyes, but it oddly suited him, bringing out his bone structure.
"I am sure this isn't a social call, Mr. Potter, and I can't offer you tea. What do you want of me?" Lucius looked pointedly at the folder Harry carried.
"Information." Harry opened the folder, pulling out a photograph and handing it to Lucius, who paled a bit when he saw it. "There are many people who need to know what happened to their loved ones, and the Ministry is confident that you can help them. You have complete immunity from incriminating yourself."
Lucius was silent for a good five minutes, staring down at the woman in the photo. She was chubby and middle-aged, with a wide smile. She tore the paper off of a Christmas gift, revealing a pair of fluffy pink slippers. "I don't know her name," he said, finally.
"Danica Argent." Harry pulled a prized possession from a pocket of his uniform jacket: Rita Skeeter's Quite-Quotes Quill, which he'd confiscated from her when her home was searched in a libel case. When Harry used it, it only transcribed what was actually said. "Last seen being taken away by Snatchers, most likely to Malfoy Manor."
"She was. She is dead now." Lucius made to give the picture back.
"Ah... a little more detail. Please."
Lucius cleared his throat. "She was brought in by Fenrir Grayback. The Dark Lord wanted to question her because her brother Victor was a resistance leader." Lucius went silent again.
"The Dark Lord held his wand against my wife's throat as he watched my son use the Cruciatus Curse on the woman. It went on for far too long. The woman knew nothing. Bella Avada'd her, and Nagini ate her. Will that be all?" Lucius' voice was brittle.
"Just a couple more, please?" Harry had a stack of photos half a foot thick to go through, actually, but if he pushed Lucius too hard, the man would balk, and Veritaserum was in short supply these days. Lucius didn't protest, so Harry handed him a picture of a twentyish man with long, curly brown hair, who was flirting with his photographer. "Jonathan Miller. Vanished on his way home from university."
"He used the Dark Lord's name. Scabior brought him in. Bella played with him for days because she liked how pretty he was. By the time it was clear he was of absolutely no interest, he wasn't very pretty any more."
"All right, just one more." This photo was of an elderly man. "Georgie Sparks."
"He was rude to Bella, so she brought him to the Manor. He dropped dead the second he laid eyes on Nagini. She refused to eat him. She'd grown too accustomed to younger, more succulent meals. Bella turned him to ash. She did so love to play with new spells."
Harry's mouth twisted."Yeah, she was just a playful little imp." Whoops. Sarcasm probably wasn't the right approach. He was surprised when Lucius laughed. He hadn't realized the elder Malfoy could laugh. "That's enough for one day." He tucked the photos back into the folder.
"Have-have you seen my family at all? Have you heard word of them?"
"Narcissa is the head of the committee for the next St. Mungo's charity ball. She's an absolute terror, I hear."
Lucius smiled. "I can believe that."
"Malf-Draco, I think, has gone to Durmstrang to complete his NEWTs. A lot of the Slytherins have. I suppose I should go now. Thank you for your time." Harry sent his Patronus through the door and put away the Quill.
Lucius had an expression on his face that Harry couldn't read. "You'll be back, I presume?"
"Next week some time." The door swung open, and the chair floated out. Harry followed it.
When the cell door opened, a shirtless, sweaty Lucius was doing chin-ups on a bar hung from the cieling. The older man was in surprisingly good shape, with golden fuzz on his chest and stomach. Seeing Harry, he dropped back to the floor and grabbed a rag to dry off with. "I beg your pardon. I was not told that I was receiving a guest."
"That's quite all right." A chair floated in, and Harry sat on it.
Lucius donned another denim shirt, buttoning it up, then turning around to unzip his jeans so he could tuck in. "I have learned that one must pay attention to one's body as well as one's mind. When I was your age, I was weak and scrawny, and it left me unable to perform magic that was more... demanding. What ghosts are you going to haunt me with today, Potter?"
Lucius looked at four pictures and spoke at length. The Quick-Quote Quill scratched. Harry listened and nodded, occasionally asking a question. When Lucius seemed drained, Harry slapped his folder shut.
"Have you heard any more about my family?" Lucius asked. He was trying to keep his tone light, but Harry could sense the feeling behind it. It was a strange relationship developing between them, with Harry in the position of power. A man who had tried to hand him over to Voldemort was now dependent on him.
"Molly Weasley is on the St. Mungo's ball committee, too. She wanted something to fill her time, now that all her kids are out of the house, and she keeps me up to date with what's going on. Apparently, your wife has been insisting that the ball be held at Malfoy Manor, and she's not afraid to use petty hexes on those who disagree with her."
Lucius chuckled. It was a richer, warmer sound than Harry would have expected. "That sounds like Cissy. Have you heard anything of Draco?"
"Ah. That's all right, Potter. I suppose you need to be going now."
"I'll see you next week. Same day, same time." Harry stood up. The look on Lucius' face made it clear: Harry had the power to make the older man sad just by saying goodbye.
Harry regarded the delicate table between them with amusement. A little bit of steam curled from the spout of the china pot. "I am prepared for a guest this time," Lucius said as he poured tea into tiny, matching cups. "Milk or sugar?"
"No, thanks, plain is fine." Once, his aunt Petunia had schooled Dudley and him in proper tea etiquette. Trying to remember the long-ago lesson, Harry picked up the saucer, doing his best not to slop tea or drop the cup. "How did you manage to arrange this?"
"I merely had to mention that the famous Harry Potter was coming to visit me."
Harry groaned with embarassment. "I really look forward to the day when I'm just plain Harry Potter."
"It'll be a long wait, I'm sure. So, what is going on with the St. Mungo's charity ball committee?"
"The ball is Saturday, and it's being held at your manor. Narcissa is having a gown specially made. Molly says it will require two house elves to carry the train." Harry barely noticed that an hour went by before he got around to taking any photos out of his folder.
Harry closed his folder. "We're almost through here. I've only got about six photos still at the office." Lucius looked at Harry without speaking, pursing his lips. Harry could tell the older man was thinking hard. It wasn't unexpected that Lucius wouldn't like the idea of Harry not coming to visit him any more, really. The one hour Lucius had out of his cell each morning hardly made up for the loneliness of the other twenty-three hours of the day, and Harry was his only source of news about his family.
Harry was about to stand when Lucius moved the tea table out of the way and knelt, placing his hands on Harry's knees. It was almost vertigo-inducing, regarding Lucius from this angle. "Ah, what-"
Lucius slowly ran his hands up the insides of of Harry's thighs, caressing and massaging, then smirked up at him. "Your body is so responsive."
Harry turned red, trying to will his erection away. He was nineteen years old, of course his body was responsive. "I d-don't think this is appropriate." Slim fingers unbuttoned and unzipped his uniform trousers, then reached down and freed Harry's cock. For the very first time, a hand other than his own touched Harry intimately. He sucked in his breath and closed his eyes. Long, silky hair brushed against him, and hot wetness enveloped him.
It was too much. Harry knew he was going to come. Fingers squeezed the base of his cock. Lucius lifted his head, his lips slick with saliva. "You're not going to finish just yet." The world seemed to tilt. Harry knew then that the power had shifted. By getting down on his knees, Lucius had become his master, and, by the smug look on his face, the older man knew it.
Lucius took him into his mouth again. Harry tried to stifle a moan. Watching that blond head bob up and down in his lap was so arousing. Oh, it's going to happen now, Harry thought, biting his lip. Another squeeze at the base of his erection delayed his climax. "Please, please," he whimpered. The third time he was denied his orgasm, he writhed and cried out. Lucius laughed with Harry's cock still in his mouth, which felt delicious.
When Harry was allowed to come, it was explosive. He thrust his hips and moaned while Lucius seemed to suck him dry. Lucius looked up at him, licking at the corners of his mouth. "You taste good." When Harry got up to leave, his knees wobbled. "Next week, same day, same time?" Lucius called after him. Harry was too stunned to reply, or to remember to take the Quick-Quotes Quill with him.
Harry leaned against the shower wall, stroking himself. He couldn't get what had happened out of his mind. It was obviously a ploy to get Harry to keep visiting, but knowing that he was being manipulated didn't make it any less effective. It was an unfair match, Lucius' experience and skill against Harry's youth and virginity. Harry wondered how many other men had felt that hot mouth on them, had been caressed by those cool hands. The thought of Lucius' head moving up and down, that hair tickling Harry's stomach... Harry came, too swept away by the feeling to realize that he had cried out Lucius' name.
It can't happen again, Harry told himself. If we're caught, I'll likely lose my job. That was beyond unprofessional.
He and Lucius went through the ritual of drinking tea and making small talk, Harry telling him of the Narcissa-related latest gossip he'd recieved from Molly. He kept his folder on his lap; he'd gotten hard as soon as he'd seen Lucius, who looked amazing with his hair loose around his face and his denim shirt half unbuttoned. From the smirk on Lucius' face Harry could tell that he knew the effect he was having on Harry. It was difficult, having an ordinary conversation while he was on fire below the belt. Harry was stuttering and stammering and losing his train of thought.
Lucius pushed the table aside with his foot. "Did you honestly think that would fool me?" he asked as he took the folder away from Harry and tossed it on the bunk. "Get those trousers down."
"What-what if someone catches us?"
"Who? You've visited me more than a dozen times, and no one has ever interrupted our meetings. You're the only person who visits me, Potter." Lucius tugged at Harry's clothes. "Lift that delectable bottom up." The cool air on his heated flesh and the way Lucius stared hungrily at his body made his erection throb visibly. "I remember being that young. Sometimes it just took one touch to bring me off." Lucius ran one finger slowly from the base of Harry's cock to its slick, reddened tip; it twitched under the touch, and Harry gasped. "Did you pleasure yourself thinking about what happened last week? I did." Merlin. Listening to that velvety, upper-class voice talk about such things-Lucius had to use his orgasm-delaying trick on Harry again.
Soft, wet, warmth enveloped Harry. A hand reached around, probing between Harry's cheeks. When Lucius found what he was seeking, he didn't try to penetrate Harry; he just ran his finger lightly in circles, producing shivery little sensations that Harry'd never felt before. "Mmm, Lucius," he moaned. He could feel the older man smiling around the base of his erection. Harry knew there was no going back after this. He no longer had the will or the desire to resist a man he used to despise.
Harry could hear Lucius' voice coming from around the corridor's bend. "I demand to know what is going on!" That's the voice of my lover. The thought had just popped into Harry's head, both shocking and thrilling him. Lucius entered the warden's office with an arrogant set to his head and shoulders. A guard was behind him with wand out. Lucius tensed when he saw Harry.
Harry smiled to put Lucius at his ease. "You're free, Mr. Malfoy."
Lucius' eyes widened, then narrowed. "If this is your idea of a joke, I do not appreciate the humor."
"It's not a joke. You've been very helpful, so the Ministry has lifted your sentence."
The play of emotion on Lucius' face as the truth sank in fascinated Harry. Happiness, relief, trepidation, worry... "My family isn't here. They haven't been told?" Harry tried to compose a lie, but Lucius' lips went thin. "They were told, but they chose not to come. Do not try to tell me otherwise, Potter. You're not a very good liar." Lucius held his head high, face set in that arrogant look Harry knew so well. But Harry was familiar enough with the man to see the sadness that would be invisible to everyone else.
"We've got a place for you to stay until your lawyers get you back into your manor," Harry said.
Lucius extended his arm. "Then escort me there, Mr. Potter."
Lucius looked around the one-room flat with a sardonic look on his face. "How the mighty have fallen."
"I know it's not much, but with luck, you won't be here long. Look." Harry opened up the tiny refrigerator. "You have food. There's shampoo and things like that in the bathroom. You'll have to live like a Muggle until the Ministry grants you the right to carry a wand again."
Lucius was looking at the bed, which was next to the kitchenette. A familiar smirk was on his face, and Harry, who'd been rock-hard ever since Lucius touched his arm, was starting to sweat. "Take your clothes off," the older man ordered, with the tone of a man accustomed to being obeyed.
Harry clumsily got his boots off, then started peeling off his Auror uniform. "I'm still on duty. I shouldn't be doing this."
"I did not tell you to speak." Lucius' eyes raked over Harry's naked body. "Merlin, you're a beauty. Get on the bed." Lucius started unbuttoning his denim prison shirt. "I want you to pleasure yourself. Show me what you do when you think of me."
Harry obeyed, touching himself as he watched Lucius strip. Seeing his lover in all his glory for the first time, the fit body with its down of golden hair, the cock that was hard for Harry... "Unh!"
"Oh, Harry, so soon?" Lucius walked to the refrigerator, took something out of it, then climbed onto the bed.
"What's that for?" Harry asked when he saw what Lucius had in his hand.
"I think you know." Lucius pushed Harry's legs open.
"Will it hurt?"
"A little, at first." Lucius took some of the butter with one finger and massaged it onto Harry's tight little hole. "It's been ages since I had a virgin. Just relax now." It stung a little, but Harry resisted the urge to tense up, and soon the finger worked more deeply into him. It felt rather nice, actually. "Are you ready for more?" Lucius asked. When Harry assented, he worked a second finger in. "You're hard again already." Harry whined in protest when the fingers left him. Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Greedy little thing." Lucius smeared butter on his cock, then poised himself over Harry. "Do you want it?" he asked silkily, caressing Harry's cheek and lips.
Harry stared up into those gray eyes that were dark with lust. "Yes," he breathed. When Lucius entered him, it stung more than the fingers did, but Harry soon forgot the brief pain. Lucius watched Harry's face respond to his slow, smooth movements. Harry tightly gripped the quilt under him. Lucius started thrusting deeper, and Harry cried out, tossing his head from side to side. Merlin, he'd had no idea something could feel so good. He shook as he came. Lucius made a gorgeous sound deep in his throat and threw his head back, baring his teeth as he climaxed.
They laid together, panting. Lucius licked a blob of semen off of Harry's stomach. "You're a mess. You'll have to shower before you go back to work. But first-" He rolled Harry onto his stomach.
"Bloody hell! What did you do that for?" Harry rubbed the bite mark on his arse. "I'm bleeding!"
"I like to mark my possessions." Lucius licked the wound. "Don't take that shower just yet. I'm going to dirty you up some more."
It was another perfect day in Amalfi, Italy. The turquoise of the sea complimented the city that climbed the steep mountainside. A striking couple walked a narrow switchback street. A tall, fortyish man in white linen, sunglasses and Panama hat shielding him from the Mediterranean sun, had a possessive arm around a dark-haired boy who was showing a lot of tanned skin. A gentle breeze lifted the boy's hair, exposing a zig-zag scar. The older man ran a finger over the scar. "Do you like it here?" he asked the boy.
"We could stay here forever. Draco wouldn't mind visiting, I'm sure."
The boy laughed. "I wonder if he'll still have that look on his face when he does?"
"It was a bit of a shock for him, I'm sure. Until that day, he had no idea I actually prefer men."
"Not men. You prefer me." The boy tugged on his lover's long pony-tail.
"You'll pay for that impudence later, young man."
The boy grinned, green eyes vivid against his dark skin. "I certainly hope so."