Madame Scarlet's

Author’s Note: Many thanks to Laurel, who has been very patient with me through this process and apologies to all who have had to wait for this update.

Chapter 16 Sect

Harry wanted to scream, or to cry or to take his anguish out in violent force against one of the many expensive looking objects in Lucius’ office, but he was too exhausted to move. Apparating as far and as quickly as they had sapped all of Harry’s magic reserves so that, even if he hadn’t been stripped of his wand upon entering, he was very nearly defenseless. He could bite and kick and claw, but his body was too weary for even that at the moment.

His back was raw and burning, his eyes clouded with tears of fury that he refused to let fall down his cheeks. He was slumped over, still kneeling on the floor where Lucius had left him and he wished he could figure out a way out of this place, out of this mess. Dying at the hand of Voldemort would have been a preferable fate than this.

His pain was Malfoy’s fault, and he didn’t have to bother to distinguish between father and son. It appeared the boy was falling into step behind the man and that Harry was merely an obstacle in his way to further the Malfoy’s fame and fortune.

Draco’s face came unbidden to his mind, beautiful and slack with pleasure as he melted into Harry’s touch, and he snarled, forcibly wiping the image from his thoughts, pressing his thumbs against his sockets until he saw only white. He’d meant every biting word he’d said to Draco, he never wanted to see him again, but unfortunately the beast roiling through him felt differently. The Incubus wanted to smother itself in Draco’s scent, in his luscious hair, and melt into his alabaster flesh. Harry wanted his body and his kindness, but not his treachery, and he had quickly learned that one couldn’t be separated from the other. It would hurt him less to deprive himself of the food the Incubus craved and allow himself to die rather than let himself fall for a boy who didn’t even know what love truly was.

When the door clicked open, Harry refused to look up, assuming it was merely Lucius arriving to continue his torture. He could hear the heavy footfalls of someone drawing near and he braced himself for the imminent blow, but it never came. Instead, a wet, cooling sensation drifted over him as his back was mended and cleaned with a powerful spell. He rolled his shoulders back to test the effects and it felt perfect and unmarred once again.

“Not even a thank you?” Lucius’ familiar voice drawled, but Harry shook his head.

“Why should I thank you for repairing what you broke?” he asked, still refusing to look up.

“I didn’t inflict this pain on you, my son did,” Lucius corrected.

“By your orders,” Harry bit out.

“Don’t fool yourself into thinking he didn’t want to lash out at you,” Lucius replied snidely.

“I haven’t,” Harry whispered. He’d seen the manic gleam in Draco’s eyes in the Gryffindor common room; he’d witnessed the betrayal first hand. Only his own indiscretions and his affection for Draco had stilled his hand from killing Lucius on the spot. But now he regretted his mercy, regretted his blinding love for the boy who had put him here.

“Good,” Lucius commented lightly. “I’m here to propose a reasonable offer that even a Gryffindor should be able to comprehend.”

Harry ignored the insult and shook his head. “I’m done making deals with Malfoys.” Though his tone remained calm and indifferent, the words were spat from his mouth so forcefully that he saw Lucius take a step back.

“If you’ll hear me out, I think you’d find the arrangement most agreeable,” Lucius pressed, making Harry sigh tiredly.

“I don’t really have much of a choice,” he pointed out and Lucius chuckled darkly.

“No, I suppose you don’t. Still, I could give you some, I could offer you choices where my son and Severus refused to,” he replied.

“Just spit it out,” Harry barked. “All this dancing around is making me ill.”

Harry couldn’t see the blond’s expression from his prone position on the floor but he could easily picture the affronted sneer he bore on that otherwise lovely face. Knowing that Draco would look like Lucius when he aged was certainly a pro in the list of ‘why bother to date Draco Malfoy at all’, but not a big enough pro to overshadow the very long list of cons.

“I propose a partnership,” Lucius said at last. “I find you the clients, provide you with room and board, and you supply the services. We can split the take fifty-fifty,” Lucius suggested.

“What would I do with all that money if I’m a prisoner?” Harry asked. “I couldn’t spend it, I couldn’t use it to go out with my friends, or buy my lover a nice gift because I wouldn’t be allowed those things either.”

“I could be your lover,” Lucius suggested and Harry laughed. “Is that really so preposterous?”

“You’re old,” Harry quipped, knowing his words would strike true to the man’s vanity.

“I’m not that much older than Severus,” he defended.

“And you’re Draco’s father. If I gave him up, what makes you think I’d want you?” Harry added.

A hand of long, pale fingers grabbed Harry’s jaw and yanked his face up to meet a pair of gray, smoldering eyes just like Draco’s, and for a moment, Harry felt the Incubus stir, but it settled when Harry’s eyes took in the rest of the features. It was true, he was almost a carbon copy of his son, but Draco was softer somehow, he seemed to glow from somewhere within, and Lucius lacked those essential pulls.

Those lips crashed into his, forceful and unyielding, and Harry didn’t fight it, but he didn’t give himself over to it either. He felt the Incubus fill his veins, taking hold of him, but Harry subdued it with images of Draco. His face, his body, his voice, anything Harry could steal from his thoughts he threw at the Incubus until it retreated back into his core.

When Lucius pulled away he looked both indignant and curious all at once. “I’ve never met anyone so young who was already so disciplined.”

“I don’t want you,” Harry stated blandly. “You could force me of course, but raping an Incubus is not the same as having one give themselves to you freely.” He didn’t actually know this for sure of course, but he seemed to have made a good guess because Lucius face twisted slightly before nodding.

“I’ll win you then,” he announced. “Whatever it takes, I’ll make you want me.”

“Let me go,” Harry suggested. “You’d earn my respect if you let us all go right now.”

Lucius chuckled and shook his head. “Very clever, but I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly do that. The Cambions are my income, my freedom, my slaves. They belong to me.”

“They’re people,” Harry spat. “They don’t belong to anyone.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Potter. They owe their loyalty to me. I’ve taken them in, given them shelter and love. They’d be whores on the street without my generosity and guidance.”

“You really believe that, don’t you? What about their Mates? They’ll die without them, you know?” Harry demanded.

“You can’t possibly believe that since you have banished your own Mate from your presence,” Malfoy replied, but Harry didn’t miss the lingering glance Lucius had cast up to the painting above his fireplace. “You would have sealed his fate and your own with that edict.”

“Perhaps I would rather die than live a miserable life,” Harry whispered.

“And my son? Do you care at all what he wants?” Lucius prodded.

“Of course I do,” Harry hissed.

“But his happiness is not more important than your own?”

“Are you trying to convince me to take him back into my bed? Because I thought you were campaigning that position for yourself,” Harry scoffed so that he didn’t have to acknowledge Lucius’ words. His mind was so muddled, and his life so drastically altered by recent events he didn’t know what to say. Part of him loved Draco, part of him hated Draco and then there was always that annoyingly Gryffindor part of his psyche that would never allow someone to be harmed if he could prevent it. Would he eventually give in and allow Draco to take what he wanted from him? Perhaps. It wouldn’t be the first time he let someone he cared about trample over him, but he would avoid it if he could. Even if he couldn’t avoid the fate itself, he could avoid thinking about it for the moment.

“You could take us all,” Lucius suggested and Harry’s body warmed considerably at the thought of having a Malfoy on each arm. He could already imagine the pleasure of two blond heads with two sets of gray eyes watching him, four milky legs entangled with his, and four pale hands with twenty long fingers to touch him everywhere at once. Two mouths, two cock, two arses; the image made him shudder and the Incubus stirred once more.

He shook his head, trying to dissipate the intoxicating thoughts from his mind. “I’m not bound to you, it wouldn’t be the same as what I’ve done with Draco and Snape. I love them. I have no love for you.”

“You had no love for either of them when they first seduced you,” Lucius pointed out.

“I just want a normal life. I want a lover that I don’t have to share,” Harry sighed, running his hands haphazardly through his hair as he realized the innate truth in his words.

“You could have had all that with Draco, but you turned him away. I don’t think that a normal life is what you want at all. I think you’d get bored,” Lucius challenged, his eyes sparkling and brilliant.

“Draco wouldn’t share with you,” Harry leveraged, but Lucius smirked wickedly, his eyes glittering with triumph.

“Leave him to me,” the man chimed, and he left Harry alone in the office once more.

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“It’s been a long time, Severus,” Narcissa noted from the partially open doorway as she surveyed the gathered crowd outside her entry. It was purposeful to only greet Severus, a calculated dismissal of the rest of his motley crew.

“That is has, Cissy,” Severus admitted with a half-bow.

“I think the last time you were at the manor was back when you were having an affair with my husband,” she added, as if commenting on the quality of her tea.

Minerva and Ron shot the man a scandalous look while Hermione merely seemed intrigued by this new development, no doubt trying to merge what she knew of both men with this enticing new information. While Snape stammered, trying to find his words again, Hermione stepped forward and boldly offered her hand to the Lady Malfoy. “Hermione Granger, Madam. I’m a friend of Draco’s.”

“I thought you were Harry’s little know-it-all?” she sneered, but Hermione pressed forward without a beat and glared the woman down, speaking finally in a huffed tone that indicated how little she thought of the Malfoy matriarch.

“I’m Harry’s friend as well, but now that the two are Mated, it seems my friendship extends to both. The thing is, Mrs. Malfoy, Lucius has captured Harry,” she blurted at last, her face breaking into a satisfied smile as Narcissa’s eyes widened.

“Draco helped him,” Ron added venomously. He loathed Draco more than ever for having tricked them all into thinking he was in love with their friend and then handing Harry over to his father.

“That’s very unlike my son,” she whispered, but opened the door wide enough to allow them all entry. “He hates his father.”

“That’s terrible,” Minerva scoffed with near sincerity, she couldn’t imagine being part of such a twisted family dynamic, but Narcissa narrowed her eyes and gave the woman a very indulgent smile.

“Don’t pretend you don’t hate Lucius as well. He’s so easy to despise. He doesn’t even have to work very hard at it,” she replied as she led them all into a sunroom at the back of the manor. Snape was feeling uneasy, and took a spot furthest away from Narcissa, though he knew that would do little good if the woman chose to Hex him. Ron played it safe and sat between Hermione and Minerva, not wanting to be closer to either of the haughty Slytherins than he could help.

“Draco told me there was trouble with the bonding. I took that to mean that it didn’t take. Was I mistaken?” Narcissa asked.

“It took. In fact, it took too well,” Hermione muttered.

“What do you mean?”

Even Minerva was paying close attention as Hermione leaned forward and addressed Lady Malfoy to explain about the incantation, including how Snape got entangled in its sticky web. Snape’s face paled as he remembered the night he had captured both boys, what he was willing to do to them to have his desires quenched, and it made him physically ill. With his recent bonding, he felt both boys as if they were an extension of his own being. There had to be something he could do here, some way he could atone for his disgraceful behavior.

“We’re working on a spell or potion to counter the bond, but we’ve been unsuccessful so far,” she complained, almost chastising herself as she did.

“Hmm,” Narcissa mused, tapping her perfectly manicured nails lightly against her lips. “I’ve never heard of a way to break the bond between Mates, but there must be some way. I certainly wouldn’t want my son to remain unwillingly bound to you, Severus.”

“I’m sure with enough time I can devise a potion that might counter the effects,” Severus added, ignoring Narcissa’s jibe. “I brought everyone here though so that you might tell them about the Cambions, and if they might be of some use to our cause.”

“I know all about the Cambions,” Hermione interrupted. “That’s what Harry and Draco are.”

“That’s true, but they are so much more than that,” Narcissa chastised her for speaking out of turn. “They are a secret group constructed by Merlin himself that governs our kind. Even those of us who are full blooded are bound by their rules and justice.”

“The group is called by this name, but it consists of full Incubi and Succubi, half-bloods, like Potter and Draco, and even wizards who possess no Incubus blood at all and simply lend their strength to the Cambion’s cause,” Severus added, ignoring Narcissa’s scowl.

“So it is rumored. Personally I’ve never met someone of the secret sect. One really shouldn’t have to, and if they do, there is probably a deadly reason behind it,” she quipped.

“So, they are like your police,” Hermione reasoned. “They make sure your kind doesn’t take advantage of ours.”

“You listen to me, little girl,” Narcissa growled, her countenance switching instantly to that of a rabid beast. “You know nothing of our kind and our ways. You live a precious little life with very little troubles. If you were as clever as they say you are, you would keep your mouth shut.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to save Harry,” Hermione countered, not looking the least bit frightened.

“Then you’ll do well to find this man,” she replied, conjuring a card from thin air. “He works for the Ministry, but he knows how to contact the Cambions. Supposedly,” she added indifferently with a bland wave of her hand, as if the previous fire in her eyes had been a dream.

“And you? Are you just going to sit back and let your husband kill your son and our friend?” Hermione insisted, heedless of McGonagall’s stern glance.

“I will do my own searching for the boys, though I care little for Potter. If Draco wishes to leave him, he’ll be left behind,” she told them, and they could all sense her honesty even as they hated it. “I do what is best for my family.”

“Harry’s his Mate!” Hermione persisted, but Narcissa shook her head.

“It matters not to me if it matters not to Draco.” The finality in her voice rung cold and true and it made Ron shudder. The four guests left without another word, glad to at least have a lead if they were to get no other assistance from the cold, deadly woman.

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There was only one room that Lucius rarely entered, and that was where he’d sent Draco earlier that day as part of his punishment for deceiving him for weeks. It was not as barren as the attic room he’d killed Abby in, or as lavish as any of the dungeon rooms used by his clientele, but it was oppressive just the same.

Gray like the Malfoys’ eyes and furnished only with a rickety bed, dingy toilet and rusted sink, the room seemed to exude poison into the air for the length of time a person could remain there without slipping into madness. Draco was chained to the bed, stripped of all his clothing, and he was staring uselessly into a mirror on the far wall. That mirror had a twin in Lucius’ office, just like every other room, and he could use it to spy on his guests and slaves, or cast the spell the other way so that others would be forced to watch whatever pleased him as entertainment. Sometimes he used it as a reward, giving the Cambion horde downstairs lusty video of the clientele’s activities. It seemed to placate them in a way Lucius could relate to. They enjoyed having the power to observe without being suspected of it.

He also used it as punishment, something his son would learn of very soon.

“He’s agreed to bed me,” Lucius said upon entering the room, his gaze flitting across his son’s body only briefly before casting his eyes to the mirror.

“Liar,” Draco hissed, leaping up to his feet, even though the pain from the shackles on his wrists was considerable with such a sharp movement. “He won’t ever touch you.”

“Ah, but in this you’re wrong, Draco. He’s agreed to be my lover on the condition that you’re there too.” Lucius hadn’t worked out all the technicalities, but he’d seen the lusty glaze in Potter’s eyes at the very mention of bedding them both.

The smug sneer Draco leveled on him was expected, though Lucius felt a twinge of regret for what he would be forced into by his son’s petulance. Draco hadn’t turned out like he’d hoped, there was too much of his mother in him.

“Well, it seems we’re at an impasse then, Father, for I will not debase myself in such a way. If Potter wants us both, he’ll have to go on wanting,” Draco bit out.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Lucius drawled and lifted his wand, aiming it at Draco’s sternum.

The boy panicked, his eyes blazing with both defiance and fear, though his body didn’t betray him as he puffed out his chest and waited for the impact. He still needed some training, but Lucius felt a swell of pride to see how well Draco had learned at least some of the lessons Lucius had fought to teach him. “So, you plan to kill me for disagreeing with you?”

“Not disagreeing, no,” Lucius replied. “You’ve done so much more than that. You’ve squashed your promise in the reckless way you pursued Potter. One as young as yourself couldn’t possibly compete with me. But I don’t plan to murder you either, that would be such a waste at this point, when you’re so close to meeting my expectations.”

“Then what?” Draco asked, confusion tinting his icy gaze.

“I simply have to make you more pliable to my will,” Lucius stated blandly, and Draco had but a moment to register the words and try to scream, or duck, or fight back in some way, before the bright white light of the spell crashed into his chest.

“Imperio!” Lucius shouted and Draco slumped, screaming his despair somewhere in the back of his mind that his own father had actually used an unforgivable against him. In that moment he would have preferred the death he initially thought would be dealt to him, rather that this state where Lucius could us him however he liked. As Lucius led his body, stiff with mechanical steps, back to his office for Harry’s pleasure, Draco wondered if his father would ever allow him free will again or if he’d be the man’s slave forever.

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Author’s Note: Well, sorry for the delay in this chapter. I’ve been fighting off Lucius, trying to keep his grubby paws off of my Harry, but alas, he seems to have won the battle, for now. Expect more frequent updates from this chapter on. I’ve married my outline together with this excerpt, so I shouldn’t have any more quarrels with the characters after this.