After the End

Title: Ater The End, chapers 6-10

CHAPTER 6

Harry sulked the first six hours after Dobby staggered into his room with the armload of texts and scrolls. He lolled on the bed dressed in trousers and a shirt and a single blue sock. He wasn't going to read even one book. He pushed out his lip defiantly. He'd sit here in his little room and...sulk.

Then he got bored. The stack started to look pretty good about hour seven. At hour eight he began reading the titles.
Dobby brought him a ham sandwich and sweet tea for lunch, there were sliced pears for dessert. He ate all of it, though it wasn't nearly as fancy as the food at Hogwarts, it was far better than what he'd eaten for years when he lived with the Dursleys.

Harry munched thoughtfully as he read the titles. Maygar's Guide To Apprenticeship In The Modern Era. Potion Aids To Teaching Young Witches and Wizards. Master/Apprentice: A Treatise of Social Conduct and Contracts. Booooring. Harry skipped the next few books and lit on one that caught his eye. Nice simple, impossible to misunderstand a title like that...Sex Magic. Well, well, maybe there was something worth reading after all.

Harry worked the book out from under all the heavy ones stacked above it. They had to weigh ten stone apiece, he thought as he wrestled with the stack. He opened the pristine cover. The book looked as if it had never been opened before. Copyright 1677 by Lord Master Heronimous Nile. Pretentious. Hmmmm. Harry flipped the next page, and began to read. Couldn't hurt to learn a thing or two, could it? Learning was never wasted. Might come in handy some day.

He was on the second page of Chapter 16 when he realized he was no longer alone in the room. And it wasn't Dobby this time. Grey eyes met Harry's hazel ones. Then they flicked down and examined the book Harry was reading. Harry felt his heart slam to a stop.

"Find something to interest you, Harry?" The tone was silky, dangerous, as Lucius stretched out across the end of the bed. His brocade silk jacket fell open, exposing the tight shirt moulded to his chest lovingly. Ghods the man was built, Harry thought unwillingly. Unlike Harry he wasn't small and ill defined. He was big and hard and he had a presence about him. No one overlooked Lucius Malfoy, Harry thought bitterly. He swallowed hard, trying to think of a response, and failing. He sat like a lump until Lucius shook his head. "Not precisely what I had in mind for the first lesson, Mr. Potter, but if you insist."

"No, my Lord. I mean, it doesn't interest me at all my Lord." Harry stuttered. The last person on earth he wanted to talk sex with was Lucius Malfoy. He'd die of a heart seizure if he tried.

"Harry. My dear boy, don't EVER lie to me. I can not abide liars." The words were sweet and soft, Lucius leaned forward and ran a gentle finger down Harry's cheek. He frowned. "You should shave when you expect me, Harry. I'm afraid I must insist on it. Now, tell me what you have learned from Lord Nile. Fifteen chapters, I am impressed." He picked up the huge tome and set it aside. Harry felt faint as he watched Lord Malfoy settle himself on the edge of the bed.

"I, uh, he says, Lord Nile says...about reproduction, uhm..." Harry closed his eyes as the finger moved down his cheek to his lips and stroked there, feather light. If he opened his mouth, the finger would dip inside, Harry knew it. Then he would suck on it. Harry knew that, too. As if it had already happened. The finger wasn't smooth, Harry felt the faint roughness of harder use than spell casting or waving a wand. Agile, yes, quick, yes, but even more, it was strong, capable. The finger moved on, to the other cheek, stroking, stroking, almost...reverently.

"Remember, Mr.Potter, you chose the subject." Lucius murmured, gazing at the boy's flushed face with rapt attention. "I am not displeased, because it allows me to give a valuable lesson. I haven't read every book in the library, there are well over thirty thousand different texts. I never had cause to pick up the one in your arms until the year before you were born."

"I was newly married, to a beautiful woman, Draco's mother. I know you have seen her. I was passionately in love, and had all the inspiration I needed. Our sex life pleased me greatly, just as it was. That particular book became, however, someone else's favorite. That bitch I married used it to bind me to her and to her 'dear' Lord Voldemort. The man...the thing she worshipped in truth. I was just her duty. He was hers in every other way." Lucius trailed his nail to the hollow of Harry's throat, pressed in. Harry gasped, and the finger relented, floated down, and Harry felt the top button of his shirt give way with a soft "pop". His chest heaved as he drew in a panicked breath.

"I was caught in her web, because I was not vigilant. Being in love is no protection at all. People you love are always doing what's best for you. It can be a nightmare. I was careless. I paid for it with eighteen years of servitude. I had to speak civiliy with those imbiciles, the Goyles and the Crabbes, others. And worse. I had to bow and scrape to HIM. That fucking animal, that BEAST. I really am grateful to you for killing him." The smile was beautiful, shining. His eyes were jewels of such profound beauty, such unnatural light that Harry stared, couldn't look away. Lucius looked like an archangel, like Gabriel come to earth. The second button on the shirt released. Harry stopped breathing then.

Harry sat absolutely still. The man was mad. Utterly insane.

"No, Harry, you are wrong. I am not insane." Lucius said into the continuing silence, causing the emerald eyes to widen. "But, I was close. Much as it pains me, you and your annoying little friends saved my life." Lord Malfoy slid his hand deeper beneath the shirt, across the smooth flesh of Harry's chest. He caressed the nub he found there, peaked and hard. It was like being touched by lightning, Harry sobbed. Barely hearing the question that was next posed.

"Did you learn anything about the Laws of Bonding which you and I are now subject to?"

"No," Harry said in a rush. "No, no, no. There weren't...there weren't any pictures." He said suddenly. Then flushed a deep red. Lucius Malfoy stared at him for an instant, startled. Then he laughed out loud.



CHAPTER 7


"Master Harry must come with Dobby." Dobby said, interrupting Harry on page 112 of 'Legal Apprenticeship: Relevant Law, Your Rights and Obligations.' Dry did not begin to do the writing justice. Arid was still too complimentary. Harry slammed the cover shut with satisfaction. It was the perfect time to have permission to stop studying, before he fell asleep.

"Fine, Dobby. Where are we going?" Harry asked.

After the last time, that time Lord Lucius had visited him in his room, nothing more had happened. A whole week. No escalating advances, just civil conversations, educational discussions, and one kiss goodnight. On the forehead. One. Not too bad. Harry hadn't flinched. It was really rather pleasant to feel that warm mouth pressed to his skin. He'd half feared despite rationally knowing Lord Malfoy wasn't a Deatheater, that his skin would be cold and clammy and terrible. It wasn't. His mouth was warm, warmer than Harry's forehead. One kiss that lingered like melted wax against his skin. But that was all.

Lord Malfoy encouraged and chided, or outright scolded. He made his disapproval plain, just as he made his pleasure obvious when Harry did well. And Harry had to admit the man was the most gifted teacher he'd ever had. Quick and clever and never missing a thing, never slipping, never distracted. All that terrifying attention focused on his one pupil, on Harry. Harry actually wanted to do well, wanted to learn. He sat and listened to Lord Malfoy lecture, absorbing the deep, seductive voice along with the words, a voice that seemed to slip into his subconscious and stay whispering facts and figures and magical secrets he'd not even guessed at while at Hogwarts. So far it was the best way he'd encountered to learn. Lucius said it, and somehow it was imprinted on Harry's brain.

"Master Lucius says Harry Potter has visitors in the salon." Dobby set off with Harry close behind him. Harry was taller by a foot than the house elf, but he couldn't quite catch up to the speeding pink figure.

"Dobby, Dobby, wait up, I want to ask,...who is it?" The young wizard hissed in a loud whisper. He wanted to yell the question. But the weeks at Malfoy Manor taught him Dobby didn't respond to yells, or answer questions unless he wished to. Bribes never worked. Nor begging with big, needy eyes.

"Harry!" Harry slid to a stop, mouth open in disbelief. A tall, gangly form jumped toward him. He could hardly believe it. He sprang forward, letting out a cry of pure joy.

"Ron!" They hugged each other. Harry felt the larger boy swing him up in the air. He laughed, his feet flying up off the floor. Ron was still growing, bigger even in the few months since he'd seen him, and lifted him with ease. Harry of course was still short, compact, and light enough to lift like a child.

"Now. Mr. Weasley. I must have just a word with Mr. Potter, then the two of you can go become reaquainted." Lucius Malfoy stepped up to the two hugging young men. Ron put Harry down at once. Taking a wary half shuffle, half step back, he scuffed the toe of his boot on the floor. Lucius winced at the action.

"Don't...do that, Mr. Weasley. These floors are hundreds of years old. Please treat them gently." He said through gritted teeth, then Lucius held his arm out to Harry. As if he was asking permission to escort him. Harry blinked.

"Yes, Lord Malfoy." Ron stood in the hall as Harry was guided into one of the side rooms. Lucius took Harry's shoulders in his hands, bent down and looked him directly in the eye.

"Mr. Potter, a few ground rules. One. You will return to me, once Mr.Weasley has left, just as untouched as you are now. Two. No part of his body will enter yours, and no part of your body will enter his. Three. You may kiss him, hug him talk to him, you may even cuddle the young man, but nothing I consider sex will happen between the two of you. Have I made myself absolutely clear?" He waited, his gaze as intent, as sharp as a razor, glinting.

"Yes, sir." Harry muttered, his face flaming.

"Are we absolutely clear on what I consider sexual activity, Mr. Potter?" Lord Malfoy asked again, even more quietly.

"Yes, sir." Harry repeated.

"You do not need me to be more specific?" The man pressed the boy further. "Shall I speak with Mr Weasley about these guidelines?"

"No, sir." Harry answered immediately. Waiting for the floor to open up and swallow him.

"Then go and enjoy your company. I'll go distract Draco. He's around somewhere today, at loose ends. No doubt he'd like to find something to occupy himself with, besides baiting Mr.Weasley." The tone was wry. Harry coughed to keep from laughing. Lucius Malfoy had just revealed he had a sense of humor, even about his beloved, so imperfect son.

"Thank you, sir." Harry said, when he'd gotten the urge to grin under control. He lifted his eyes to the taller man's. "I mean it, sir. Thanks for bringing Ron here. I missed him."

"I know, my boy. Severus and I thought it was time to let the two of you visit." Lucius patted Harry's shoulder, he cupped a hand around the back of the boy's neck, squeezed gently. Then he released him, flicking his hands dismissively. "Go."

Harry ran from the room. He'd almost hugged Lucius Malfoy. Merlin. Gratitude was a frightening thing.


CHAPTER 8


Breakfast the next day was torture. Narcissa Malfoy, Lady Malfoy, was perched primmly at one end of the overlong table, her thin lips compressed. Draco sat at her right hand, just as stiffly, mechanically eating. Lucius Malfoy sat at the other end, Harry, his apprentice, at his left hand. Tea steamed at both ends of the table. Draco and his mother shared one service, Harry and Lucius another.

Between the offers of scrambled and poached eggs, toast and jam, mother and son alternately beamed at Lord Malfoy, and glared at Harry. Lucius served Harry himself, intercepting every plate that came to their end of the table. Narcissa fumed at that, at the extra attention. Draco scowled. Harry wanted to slump in the chair, slip down beneath the edge of the table and under it, but he'd already earned an elbow in the ribs once for his deteriorating posture. He remained straight, upright in his chair.

The screech of the morning owl post was music to Harry's ears, as he nibbled nervously on his marmaladed toast. Letters fluttered by the tens and twenties around Narcissa and Draco. Then around Lucius and Harry. Five well fed owls were needed to deliver it all. Harry obediantly wiped his fingers on his dampened cloth napkin, then reached for the haphazard pile of correpondence. He was getting good at this part, and it gave him something to do for a few moments. He was grateful for that.

Harry sorted the mail into a huge stack for the Master Wizard, then into personal and business piles, and two separate letters for himself. Lucius wiped his own fingers negligently on his cloth napkin and held a hand out. He examined Harry's letters carefully for spells and curses. Then handed them back to the boy unopened, with a nod of permission.

Silently, they opened the letters, each their own, and began to read. Lucius went still while Harry was reading his second letter, the one from Ron, for the third time. Ron was going on about how wrong he'd been not to like potions class, how interesting potions really were, how he was becoming well versed at assisting Snape in class and out. Harry shuddered. If Professor Snape wasn't careful, Ron would blow Hogwarts up to the sky, there'd be nothing more than a black, smoking crater left where the castle once stood.

The sudden lack of whispers from the far end of the breakfast table finally penetrated Harry's concentration. He glanced up to see Lucius deliberately folding a thick sheet of parchment into fourths, creasing the folds with his thumbnail, lining up the edges precisely. His wife and his son were lokking at him strangely, as if they were...frightened? Harry looked over at his Master quickly. Lucius' expression was carved in stone, formal, beautiful, a work of art, and frigid with icy fury.

"My Lord, what is it?" Harry whispered, afraid to use a normal tone to break the frosted pall that had fallen in the room. He looked around desperately. The house elves had vanished. They had excellent instincts. Harry literally twitiched with the urge to follow their example. He gripped the side of the table through the linen table cloth.

Lucius Malfoy took a cleansing, fortifying breath. He stroked the letter. Regarding it with malevolent intent. He touched it again, and the letter burst into a cold blue flame. Harry squeaked and jumped in his chair. One look from the grey eyes kept him from rising to his feet. Lucius began in a conversational tone, while the letter flamed.

"The Ministry of Magic is short of funds through an appaling lack of fiscal insight. An auction is being proposed to take place next month, as a way to make up the shortfall. Naturally there will be a Ball in connection with the auction, an opportunity for mingling for those of us who remain leaders in the Wizarding world." Lucius' voice was calm, almost lacking in all inflection and emotion. Harry cringed. This was something very bad.

"Wizards Dancing." Lord Malfoy said, his lips thinning, eyes going flat, reptilian as he looked at Harry, his head tilting to one side. Harry half expected to see a forked tongue and fangs to accompany the look. Narcissa gasped, sitting forward, resembling nothing more than a snake striking herself.

"Lucius, they wouldn't dare." She hissed. "Not my precious baby."

"What? What mother?" Draco laid a hand on his mother's silver embroidered sleeve. "What is it?"

It was his father who answered. His mother was shaking to hard with outrage to voice a coherent reply.

"Wizard's Dancing, son. Surely you have heard sex and dancing being alluded to as one in the same. Or is that an affectation that was lost in your generation?" Lucius waved a dismissive hand and continued. "It means, the Ministry intends to auction off the virginity of the apprentices from the various schools of Witchcraft and Wizardry to the highest bidder. And as all of you have remained untouched, that will bring in a tidy sum. The Ministry may indeed have hit on a way to eliminate their funding problems." The silence was deafening, followed by a brief cacophony, no less upsetting for it's brevity.

"Father! No!" Draco shouted, going bright crimson. "I refuse!"

"Lucius, I will not sit idle while you do nothing to save your own son!" Narcissa shrilled, snarling like a wet cat.

Harry sat still as a mouse. Someone was going to pay to have sex with him? Buy him? It was humiliating.

"Harry, I am sorry. I was terribly, terribly wrong. Did you by chance complete the reading of that first book you chose?" Lucius ignored the seething pair at the far end of the table.

"No, sir." Harry croaked sounding like Neville's toad, Trevor.

"Well, you will do so immediately. Narcissa, see to Draco, I think it wise if his Master comes here, rather than Draco returning to her. We are far better protected here. Such damned short sighted foolishness. You'd think they missed Voldemort, wanted him back. My secretary will see to sending letters out....Come Harry, time is short." Lucius stood, tossing his napkin down.

Harry followed the tall figure of his Master from the room. Lucius made no deviations from his path, his long authoritative stride ate up the distance as they went down the north hall. Harry figured it out in a dozen of Lord Malfoy's long strides as he scurried behind him. They were going to Harry's room.


CHAPTER 9


The door to Harry's room slammed shut behind them, echoing in the halls of the Manor. Lord Malfoy placed one hand in the center of the heavy wood, and muttered a word under his breath. Steel bars shot out from the edges of the door, sinking into the wall with a tortured scream of rending stone, sealing the door against all who would try to enter. Harry wondered if a battering ram would make any headway against breaking such a seal.

Lucius turned toward him, grim and forbidding, his eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, Harry kept a cautious eye on the older man, while measuring the distance to the window, and trying to figure how much force it would take to break through the glass if he had to escape. They were two stories up, the fall would be very unpleasant. Harry shivered.

"Sit, Harry." Lord Malfoy ordered, moving to the fireplace and bending in front of the cold grate. He waved a hand, and a bright fire sprang into being, warmth immediately seeping out into the chilled air. Then he straightened and regarded the small figure of his apprentice huddled on one corner of the vast bed. "Take of your shoes." Huge hazel eyes watched him with growing trepidation as Harry obeyed the sharp instruction, dropping his shoes over the far side of the bed. Lucius vowed that those who forced his hand this day would pay dearly. He kept his tone even by sheer strength of will.

"Sex magic is ancient. During the time of the first magicks, sex magic was exchanged between members of a group in order to enhance the chance of the group surviving. Not for reproduction alone, Harry. It was the initiation of the witch or wizard into the group using sex that solidified the bonds between members. They shared the power. If you think about it, it will make perfect sense. Sex, lust stirs up powerful feelings, emotions. It raises magic with little direction in the hands of the unskilled. It can easily be appropriated by any persons who are near." Lucius began pacing, and Harry was reminded of a tawny panther, restless and powerful. Lucius' shoulders were rigid, the muscles visible mounds even under his morning coat.

"Gradually the necessity for sex binding diminished, it wasn't...civilized, and as survival became less uncertain, sexual initiation became a matter of personal choice, except in two very well structured cases. First when a wizard or witch bargained away their sex magic as payment for a debt. Second when a Master/Apprentice bond was formed. This was still in the distant past, Harry, not modern times. Around three millenia ago. Now, sex magic in more recent times has been looked on with less favor. Use of sex magic is considered uncouth, uncivilized. I myself am an example of why. It can forge a powerful, unbreakable bond, or it can leech magic away from one of the participants." Lord Malfoy knelt in front of Harry, who was determined to take up as little space as possible, his knees were drawn up under his chin, his shaking hands locked around his shins.

"The one purchasing virginity can use the power released by the initiation to enact almost any spell short of reanimating the dead. The virgin can not protect himself. We who lead must agree the forced barter of sex will never be allowed again, before we are admitted into positions of authority. And now....here we are, and the level heads of the Ministry are the ones who propose to reopen this can of worms, and lead us into the pit. To prostitute our young. Yes, we are desperate to survive. Yes, we are tired of feeling fear. Yes, we are desperate to feel our greatness once again. But we have to earn it, Harry. This is not the way to return to greatness. through stealing the future of our youngest, newest wizards and witches. Damn them all for starting this." Lucius reached out and took the younger man's hands in his own.

Harry saw the huge hands engulf his, pry his away from the hold he had on his legs. They were gentle, but terrifyingly strong. Harry had learned Lord Malfoy was no fop, no physical weakling. His physique was muscular, intimidating, and Harry envied him, maybe even desired him. Okay. He raised his eyes from where he'd been staring at the embroidered spread. He could face this. He'd faced worse.

"What is going to happen?" Harry asked.

"You lost much of your power fighting and defeating Voldemort, Harry. Of all of you who fought HIM, Ronald Weasley is now the strongest, a sad truth. The rest of you were stripped down to your cores. If you are handled and trained properly, your power will return, slowly. If you are auctioned off and some cretin who knows nothing of magical protections purchases your virginity, then takes it... You may not recover. You may retain a fraction of your true potential, or none at all. You may become no more magical than a Muggle."

Harry felt his stomach drop. His life before magic and Hogwarts had been bleak. He never wanted to have to live as a Muggle again. He swallowed.

"How can I fight this?" Harry asked, his hands now returning Lucius' tight grip. "I dont' want to be used again. I am tired of it." His anger grew, and his hazel-green eyes sparked, he showed sharp white teeth.

"Surrender to me." Lucius told his apprentice. "I will not rob you of anything but your physical inexperience. Every ounce of the power that is returning to you will remain yours. By my word."

"Why not just tell the Ministry no?" Harry asked meekly. He fought not to screw his eyes shut, because looking at the breadth of Lucius' shoulders was doing funny things to his insides. He felt as if he was filled with quivering jelly.

"Because, I have found as long as temptation remains, people will be unable to resist it. It is far safer to remove the temptation. The consequences of your being taken and your initiation used for another's advancement are too great. I do not need your power, Harry. There is no reason for me to try and rob you of it. It is yours and by Merlin it will remain yours."

Harry sat hunched miserably. He held on to his Master's hands tightly, unwilling to let go of his one anchor to hope. Lord Malfoy was telling him the truth. Harry was certain of it. But it wasn't fair. He didn't want to sleep with anyone because he had to. He was only beginning to deal with the feelings Lord Lucius roused in him. He still wasn't sure if he liked men or women. He was still stunned when he found himself looking at the man with longing. He had, less than four months past, pssionately hated the man who now offered to take him to his bed.

"Just this once?" Harry asked timidly.

"No. Not once." Lucius said in turn. "The primordial magics will enjoy a resurgence in popularity. They are easier to use. I am afraid we are destined for a period of time when the strong will feast on the weak. I had not expected it to happen so soon. I was wrong. And for this I apologize to you. You are my apprentice and therefore my primary responsibility. I would have begun differently, I should have done so. You are mine. No one else's. I will shape you, and nurture you." Lucius joined Harry on the bed. "I will protect you."

"Oh, God." Harry said.



CHAPTER 10


"Mother, please don't worry. Come, there's tea, have some. I've had the house elves bring your favorite." Draco moved quickly to the tea table and poured a cup. He couldn't take any, he was on the verge of throwing up. He had to calm her down, he had to.

"I don't need tea at a time like this, Draco." Narcissa howled at her son, pacing like a caged animal. "I can not believe your father just abandoned you in favor of that creature. This is all his doing. Harry 'bloody' Potter. He had no right to attack Lord Voldemort. He ruined everything. He murdered him, Draco. In cold blood. It was murder, unjustified, an...assasination. We can not tolerate assasins in a civilized society. No it won't do at all. He must be eliminated. There has to be a way. Do it cleanly, no one would suspect...." She muttered, her speech ragged, disjointed.

"Mother, please. Here." Draco handed her a cup of tea, she took it without noticing and continued her agitated conversation. Her arms lifted and the tea flew from the cup in a splash against the massive vase and mantel behind her. Draco just managed to catch the ancient cup before it shattered against something harder than fragile porcelain.

"It was his fault, you know, that I am like this. He could have protected me." Narcissa moaned, as she prowled around the dayroom in the south wing of the Manor. Following her as closely as he dared, Draco knew she was no longer talking about Harry Potter, her anger had shifted to focus on his father, her husband. Lord Lucius Malfoy. The man who had rejected her, killed her dreams.

Draco sighed, then drew in a deceptively calm breath creeping nearer. He knew most of what his mother had done to his father. Binding him to Lord Voldemort as a virtual lackey. His father's pride would not allow him to crumble under the forced servitude, but once he'd been freed, Lord Lucius Malfoy wasted no time in letting the rest of the wizarding world know exactly where he stood on the subject of Voldemort. His scathing responses to other former deatheaters who tentatively reached out to him knew no bounds, not in private or in public. The Crabbes and the Goyles were no longer welcome at Malfoy Manor, not even on invitations issued by Lady Malfoy.

Narcissa Malfoy was still here at Malfoy Manor, cared for by the dozen sharp eyed house elves Lucius Malfoy employed to watch her. Draco knew his father had wanted to throw her out. Send her back to her war decimated family. But Draco had begged for her to stay. He'd wept. She was his mother. Her family was now to weak to protect her. Draco had abandoned all his own substantial pride and pleaded with his father. Inspite of her many serious failings, he loved her, and he couldn't bear to see his father send her away.

Then Potter arrived. And his mother, who had been heading toward a relative equilibrium he could deal with, began to escalate, spinning out of control. Lucius had moved the other boy into the north wing, where his wife was not permitted, where even Draco had to walk circumspectly.

She railed on for hours about how 'the creature' had stolen her husband from her. That he was sucking Lucius' power from him along with.... Draco wouldn't allow his mind to go there. Potter and his father...together. It was too much to envision.

"You know father will do what you tell him, mother. There is no need to worry yourself. I will speak with him..." Draco crooned to his mother's twitching back. He crept aong after her as she traversed the entire length of the vast room, arms flailing in time with her muttered ranting.

"You, you will speak to him? Why should you have to seek him out? He should be here, now, this minute, finding a way to portect you. Instead he's locked up with that abomination, that catamite, in bed, Draco. The must be in bed, rutting like animals. They are fucking even as we speak!" She hissed turning on him.

"Uhhh," Draco said, flinching violently. Scrambling for something soothing to say, hands rising in case she jumped him in her agitation. But the images in his head put there by his mother's rantings...ugh.

Suddenly, Narcissa stopped her pacing, her arms lowering to her sides with a curious floating quality.

"Eeep." Lady Malfoy chirped. Then she crumpled to a heap on the hardwood floor. Draco leapt forward to her side. Adrenaline coursing through his body, keeping pace with his fear.

"Mum!" He cried. Nothing, no twitch, no flutter. Draco threw back his head and screamed. "FATHER!"

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The kiss was whisper soft on his forehead, then repeated on his cheeks, his mouth, his chin, the tip of his nose. Harry lay in boneless disbelief, as Lucius Malfoy kissed him. The tiny lick on his throat brought a deep moan from Harry's chest. He arched up into the touch, shivering, his fingers digging in to the man's arms. Ghods, so big, the biceps flexed under his grasp, and Harry nearly swooned. He wrapped his calf around the back of the knee parting his thighs.

"More," Harry moaned. "Please more." He writhed against the much larger body pressing him deep into the bedcovers. One large hand trailed up his thigh as the kisses and sucking licks continued. The hand moved around and cupped Harry's buttocks, squeezing and lifting the boy's hips to press their bodies more tightly together. Hary moaned again, panting, grinding himself against the hard length he felt above him. This was, this was.... Fantastic. Better than anything. His hands tore at the man's clothing.

Lucius lifted his head with a snap. Harry stilled, reacting to the abscence of the magical, stroking fingers from the narrow strip of skin between his pants and the hem of his shirt. The Lord of the Manor had been touching him through his clothes, making Harry's body sit up and sing for more. Then a moment before, he'd pulled Harry's shirt from his trousers, and run those wonderful fingertips over the quivering, goose pimpled flesh of Harry's belly.

Lucius was up, out of the bed, the seal on the door vanishing in an instant, and through the door, leaving his cloak and boots where they lay. His long hair streamed silver/gold like a mist behind him. Harry was up and after him in less time than it took to think. He couldn't think, he could only react. and follow. He didn't want to let his Master out of his sight. Even with years of Quidditch to increase his endurance, Harry barely kept Lord Malfoy in sight. The tall Lord turned a corner into a room in a part of the Manor Harry hadn't seen before. Someone inside was keening, a high horrible sound. Harry stopped in the entrance to the room, panting, every hair on his body standing on end.

Lucius knelt on the dark, polished flooring, his hair arrayed around him, the ends brushing the floor, a few longer strands puddling there. Narcissa Malfoy was in an untidy pile half on her back and half on her side. Draco was flattened over her, he was the one making the horrible noise.

"Stop, Draco. She is not dead, boy. She is still breathing." Lucius said, quietly. Harry gasped, Draco's head spun around and fixed on Harry. He took in the rumpled clothing, the untucked shirt, and no shoes, with a scream he leapt, fingers clawing at the other youth.

Lucius grabbed his son, lifting him up off his feet.


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