Pet
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
33
Views:
33,125
Reviews:
106
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
5
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
33
Views:
33,125
Reviews:
106
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
5
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Nineteen
~*~*~*~
NINETEEN
~*~*~*~
Lucius apparated into the tiny apartment Harry and Rose shared. One look at the accommodations shocked his upper crust sensibilities. His eyes took in the faded, water-stained wallpaper and the sparse miss-matched furniture. There were not even proper curtains on the window.
He wiped the sweat from his brow and cast a cooling charm onto his robes. It was sweltering in the room; with no discernible breeze, he doubted it cooled off enough to sleep.
Detecting a slight ripple of magic, he examined the second-hand crib. He was impressed. Harry had managed to harness his shattered magic enough to cast a feeble cooling charm.
Lucius sat on the edge of the futon and detected a second, weaker cooling charm. He stared at the room his concubine called home and couldn’t imagine why he had traded the comfortable opulence of Malfoy Manor for this hovel.
Truthfully, Lucius was confused by Harry’s actions; a large part of him couldn’t understand why Harry had run away. Unlike most of the other Death Eaters, he was a fair master; with the obvious exception of the morning in the stables and a few hard slaps, he did not make a habit of abusing his pet.
When Harry first disappeared, Lucius asked Severus why Harry had run; Severus’ laughter was harsh. And then his friend said something strange – if Lucius would ever look at Harry without the filters of arrogance and ownership, he would finally understand who Harry really was and what motivated his actions.
Deciding he would find no answers in the shabby apartment, Lucius perused the meager belongings. A photograph waved at him from the cover of a discarded “Daily Prophet” and the dark wizard realized he could not just abandon the belongings as he had originally planned. If a Muggle found the magical items, it could spell disaster and, as Minister of Magic, he could not risk the repercussions of such a discovery.
Smoothing the indigo bedspread on the futon, he gripped his wand. He would quickly sort through the possessions and dispose of most of it. There would be nothing left behind but an empty room when he left.
“Accio Lucretia’s belongings.” He blinked. Nothing moved. Focusing on a stuffed lion, he tried again. “Accio Rosamond’s belongings.”
A small collection of clothing, blankets, bottles, diapers and toys piled up beside him. The crib rose from the floor but he returned it to its place. He settled the baby bathtub, towels and flannels into the crib. A yellow rubber duck landed at his feet. Selecting only a few items, he banished the remainder into the crib for disposal. There would be no need to bring inferior quality articles back to the manor.
Deciding he did not wish to be pelted with dishware and tables, Lucius clarified his next command. “Accio Harry Potter’s personal possessions.”
Clothing, tattered books, spiral notepads, money, toiletries and photographs piled up beside him. By far most of Harry’s belongings were photographs and used books.
As before, Harry’s taste in reading intrigued him. He flipped through the pages of several of the books. They appeared to be school textbooks, but the subject matter was confusing. He looked at the pamphlets and paperbound books. What was a GCSE and why would his pet want one, he wondered.
Lucius leafed through the textbooks again and realized that a GCSE must be the Muggle equivalent of O.W.L.S. or N.E.W.T.S. It pleased him that his concubine was thinking ahead, not content to remain at his current level of poverty. He kept finding more to admire in his sprite.
The Muggle clothing was cheaply made and basic in design. Simple jeans, t-shirts and chambray shirts – not at all like the revealing styles worn by others at his place of employment. Lucius crushed a black t-shirt bearing the logo for Fiddlesticks in his fist. All the Muggle clothing would be destroyed, starting with that t-shirt.
The Weasley sweater caught his eye. As much as he itched to destroy it, he realized that it held great significance to his concubine. He had seen Harry pet it and hug it; he would bring it back to the Manor, if only to destroy it at a later date if necessary.
His eyes examined the tiny apartment. He felt as if he was missing an important connection. He studied the pile of Harry’s belongings once the clothing had been banished to the crib. His hand was resting on a stack of Muggle photographs. How odd they were, he thought. They didn’t move like wizard photographs. They captured a single moment in time.
Most of the Muggle photographs were of Rosamond, but several snapshots captured Harry as well. Harry, asleep, sprawled on a sofa with a wide-awake Rose on his chest, toys and bottles scattered about. Laughing Harry, giving the baby a bath. Toothless Rose smiling into the camera.
Lucius leafed through the photographs again and picked up a smaller stack. The big man from the club was in a few of these. The white blond wizard realized that these had been taken at another location. Harry once lived somewhere nicer than this room.
He sorted through the wizard photographs. Photos of Lily and James Potter, of Sirius Black and the werewolf Remus Lupin, of the Mudblood Granger and assorted Weasleys. Additional photos of Hogwarts students and faculty, of Quidditch games and of magical beasts. He paused at a photo taken at Malfoy Manor of a very pregnant Harry.
The pregnant Harry wore a haunted, pensive expression, but as the image moved, Harry smiled softly, his hand caressing his abdomen while his unborn daughter kicked him. Lucius compared the Harry in the wizard photo to several Muggle ones. Harry was happy and there were no shadows in his eyes. He glowed, the love of his daughter radiating from the frozen Muggle image.
Realization began to gnaw at the corners of his mind. He sorted through the photographs again and found only one tattered photo of the Dursleys. Something clicked.
Abused and discarded by his blood relatives, Harry had created his own family. Scattered on the futon was Harry’s “Family”. As Lucius began to stack them into a neat pile for packing, he realized, with a start, that with few exceptions, every person in the photographs was dead.
The dark wizard’s fingers paused on a photograph of Harry and Rose. His family dead and his freedom gone, the only thing Harry had left that meant anything to him was his daughter.
And Lucius had taken her away as well.
*~*~*~*
NINETEEN
~*~*~*~
Lucius apparated into the tiny apartment Harry and Rose shared. One look at the accommodations shocked his upper crust sensibilities. His eyes took in the faded, water-stained wallpaper and the sparse miss-matched furniture. There were not even proper curtains on the window.
He wiped the sweat from his brow and cast a cooling charm onto his robes. It was sweltering in the room; with no discernible breeze, he doubted it cooled off enough to sleep.
Detecting a slight ripple of magic, he examined the second-hand crib. He was impressed. Harry had managed to harness his shattered magic enough to cast a feeble cooling charm.
Lucius sat on the edge of the futon and detected a second, weaker cooling charm. He stared at the room his concubine called home and couldn’t imagine why he had traded the comfortable opulence of Malfoy Manor for this hovel.
Truthfully, Lucius was confused by Harry’s actions; a large part of him couldn’t understand why Harry had run away. Unlike most of the other Death Eaters, he was a fair master; with the obvious exception of the morning in the stables and a few hard slaps, he did not make a habit of abusing his pet.
When Harry first disappeared, Lucius asked Severus why Harry had run; Severus’ laughter was harsh. And then his friend said something strange – if Lucius would ever look at Harry without the filters of arrogance and ownership, he would finally understand who Harry really was and what motivated his actions.
Deciding he would find no answers in the shabby apartment, Lucius perused the meager belongings. A photograph waved at him from the cover of a discarded “Daily Prophet” and the dark wizard realized he could not just abandon the belongings as he had originally planned. If a Muggle found the magical items, it could spell disaster and, as Minister of Magic, he could not risk the repercussions of such a discovery.
Smoothing the indigo bedspread on the futon, he gripped his wand. He would quickly sort through the possessions and dispose of most of it. There would be nothing left behind but an empty room when he left.
“Accio Lucretia’s belongings.” He blinked. Nothing moved. Focusing on a stuffed lion, he tried again. “Accio Rosamond’s belongings.”
A small collection of clothing, blankets, bottles, diapers and toys piled up beside him. The crib rose from the floor but he returned it to its place. He settled the baby bathtub, towels and flannels into the crib. A yellow rubber duck landed at his feet. Selecting only a few items, he banished the remainder into the crib for disposal. There would be no need to bring inferior quality articles back to the manor.
Deciding he did not wish to be pelted with dishware and tables, Lucius clarified his next command. “Accio Harry Potter’s personal possessions.”
Clothing, tattered books, spiral notepads, money, toiletries and photographs piled up beside him. By far most of Harry’s belongings were photographs and used books.
As before, Harry’s taste in reading intrigued him. He flipped through the pages of several of the books. They appeared to be school textbooks, but the subject matter was confusing. He looked at the pamphlets and paperbound books. What was a GCSE and why would his pet want one, he wondered.
Lucius leafed through the textbooks again and realized that a GCSE must be the Muggle equivalent of O.W.L.S. or N.E.W.T.S. It pleased him that his concubine was thinking ahead, not content to remain at his current level of poverty. He kept finding more to admire in his sprite.
The Muggle clothing was cheaply made and basic in design. Simple jeans, t-shirts and chambray shirts – not at all like the revealing styles worn by others at his place of employment. Lucius crushed a black t-shirt bearing the logo for Fiddlesticks in his fist. All the Muggle clothing would be destroyed, starting with that t-shirt.
The Weasley sweater caught his eye. As much as he itched to destroy it, he realized that it held great significance to his concubine. He had seen Harry pet it and hug it; he would bring it back to the Manor, if only to destroy it at a later date if necessary.
His eyes examined the tiny apartment. He felt as if he was missing an important connection. He studied the pile of Harry’s belongings once the clothing had been banished to the crib. His hand was resting on a stack of Muggle photographs. How odd they were, he thought. They didn’t move like wizard photographs. They captured a single moment in time.
Most of the Muggle photographs were of Rosamond, but several snapshots captured Harry as well. Harry, asleep, sprawled on a sofa with a wide-awake Rose on his chest, toys and bottles scattered about. Laughing Harry, giving the baby a bath. Toothless Rose smiling into the camera.
Lucius leafed through the photographs again and picked up a smaller stack. The big man from the club was in a few of these. The white blond wizard realized that these had been taken at another location. Harry once lived somewhere nicer than this room.
He sorted through the wizard photographs. Photos of Lily and James Potter, of Sirius Black and the werewolf Remus Lupin, of the Mudblood Granger and assorted Weasleys. Additional photos of Hogwarts students and faculty, of Quidditch games and of magical beasts. He paused at a photo taken at Malfoy Manor of a very pregnant Harry.
The pregnant Harry wore a haunted, pensive expression, but as the image moved, Harry smiled softly, his hand caressing his abdomen while his unborn daughter kicked him. Lucius compared the Harry in the wizard photo to several Muggle ones. Harry was happy and there were no shadows in his eyes. He glowed, the love of his daughter radiating from the frozen Muggle image.
Realization began to gnaw at the corners of his mind. He sorted through the photographs again and found only one tattered photo of the Dursleys. Something clicked.
Abused and discarded by his blood relatives, Harry had created his own family. Scattered on the futon was Harry’s “Family”. As Lucius began to stack them into a neat pile for packing, he realized, with a start, that with few exceptions, every person in the photographs was dead.
The dark wizard’s fingers paused on a photograph of Harry and Rose. His family dead and his freedom gone, the only thing Harry had left that meant anything to him was his daughter.
And Lucius had taken her away as well.
*~*~*~*