Mutare

Title: Mutare
Author: selene
Rating: Woohoo!! This chapter fulfills NC-17 requirements!!
Pairing: Harry Potter/Dudley Dursley (Don’t freak! It’s just at the start!), Harry Potter/ OMC, Draco Malfoy/OMC, Draco Malfoy/Lucius Malfoy, Harry Potter/Lucius Malfoy, Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy/OMC, Harry Potter/Lucius Malfoy/Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape/???
Category: angst, romance, drama
Disclaimer: If they were mine, Harry wouldn’t even PRETEND to be straight.
Summary: After doing something both irreparable and irreversible, Harry finds himself on the run. He finds safety and understanding in the most unlikely of places. However, when the world as you kno cha changes, all you can do is to change as well. Mutare…to change.
Archiving: AdultFanFiction.Net
Warning: Directly after OotP. Also, the sex in this chapter is very, very graphic. Never thought I had it in me. Hints of dubious consent. Also, incest to the highest degree. If you are squeamish about any of the aforementioned topics, please do not read it…
A/N: I originally wrote this months ago and posted it months ago as well. I hadn\'t realized, however, that one of the html tags was wrong...making the 6th chapter appear only until the author\'s notes. Anyway, here it is...better late than never, right? I actually don\'t know whether I should continue this story or not. I suppose we\'ll all see soon enough...
Feedback: I’d really like to know whether this chapter was good. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. I need your help, guys. Any comments at all?? The smut scenes? The pairings? Please….
Dedication: Always, to the reviewers who gave such rave reviews last chapter…as long ago as it was. However, this is also to all the people who bugged me no end to get this chapter over, done with and posted. Thank you so much for bugging me; this couldn’t have been finished without you guys.

Chapter Six: Uti Possidetis ~ As You Possess

A pounding on the door brought Ron out of his fitful, restless thoughts. It had been hours since “The Dark” had left him alone but he couldn’t stop thinking about all that was said. He had tried so hard to forget those disturbing thoughts but each time he focused on something else, his thoughts always circled back to the darkness within him.

‘What if it\'s all true? What if I really am like that but I never figured it out until now? What if the Ron everyone knows…doesn’t exist?’

“Ron!” a muffled voice yelled from the other side of the door. The pounding on the door intensified. “Are you deaf or something? Mum’s been hollering for you to come down!”

“Yeah!” another voice that sounded quite like the first chimed in. “She’s getting mighty upset waiting for our little Ronniekins to appear at supper! She’s saying that the food is getting cold while we’re all sitting on our bums waiting for you to come down!”

“She already sent us up…” the first voice threatened.

“You don’t want her to come up here, do you?” the second voice continued.

Ron blinked several times and took a deep breath. “I’ll be right down! I’m just gonna get changed! Leave me alone, will you? I don’t need babysitters!” he irritably yelled to his twin brothers.

“What on earth is wronth yth you?” Fred angrily asked. “We were---” he was cut off when George placed a hand over his mouth.

“Just don’t make us come up here again,” George warned. With that, he grabbed his twin brother and dragged him down the stairs to the kitchen.

Ron heard their arguing voices grow faint as he got out of bed, heading towards the bathroom. The wizard lights flickered on at his entrance and he came face to face with his reflection.

To put it mildly, he looked like a train wreck. His hair, while never truly neat, was now a tangled, untidy mess. His skin looked too pale and sallow in the warm lighting of the bathroom. His face seemed too haggard and drawn. His eyes…that was the biggest difference. His eyes, which normally brimmed with mischief and life, looked desolate and haunted.

Ron sighed and shook his head. He turned on the taps and splashed cold water on his face, hoping the cold would banish the sickly pallor of his skin. He wiped hace ace with a maroon towel hanging on the back of the bathroom door. He grabbed a hairbrush and brushed his hair quickly, trying to make it look as normal possible. He took one last look at his reflection and set the brush down.

‘That’s all I can hope for.’

Ron left the bathroom and set out for the kitchen. He trudged down the stairs and into the warm atmosphere of the kitchen. His family was seated around the kitchen table, talking with each other over the delicious food that sat on the table in front of them. Apparently, they were all waiting for him. In fact, they had waited for him so long that the food looked a trifle on the cool side.

Ron entered their line of sight and the conversation ceased as Molly looked at him sternly.

“Ron, what took you so long?” Molly disapprovingly asked. She frowned at her youngest son as he stood in front of them. “We’ve been waiting for such a long time that the food here has gone cold. I ha tel tell Fred and George to call you! How could you be so inconsiderate! Did you even think that we, your family, might be hungry already? Really, Ron---” she was abruptly cut off.

“No one asked you, all of you, to wait, Mum. You could have eaten without me; you have before,” Ron said in a rare show of temper against his mother. “Besides, it’s not as if your precious twins over there have ever been late before. And Mum, you’re a witch, not a Mudblood. I’d like to think that you know how to use warming charms,” Ron sneered at his gaping family. They all had their mouths open as they stared, thunderstruck, at him.

“You better close your mouths before flies take up residence. Oooh…too late,” he smirked. “Anyway, did anyone stop to think that maybe the reason I didn’t respond to your ‘hollers’ was because I was asleep? Did anyone find it important to think that maybe Ron was tired and wanted some rest before you sent those two dunderheads to pound away on my door like a bunch of trolls?”

“Well, of course not,” Ron said, sarcastically answering his own question as his family continued to stare disbelievingly at him. “This family sure isn’t civil enough to do that and frankly with the way you all act, you can shove your righteous indignation so far up your---” he was hastily cut off.

“That’s enough, Ron!” Arthur Weasley told his youngest son. “I believe that you’ve made your point. Why don’t you sit down?” He suggested, pointing to the chair nearest to the stairs.

Ron crossed his arms and was about to say something else when Arthur cut in, “Ron, I’m not asking; I’m telling you. Sit. Down”

Ron scowled and huffily sat in the designated chair.

A tense silence floated around them before Arthur clapped his hands together and tried to smile cheerily. “Well…now that everyone’s here. Maybe we should start eating?”

At that “invitation,” people began to reach for the food. They started to eat and after a while, the tension was replaced by a lighter mood as they talked of their day.

Fred and George were talking to Ginny, who sat across from them, about their latest prank and joke projects.

“We created a prototype for that quill we were talking about,” Fred told his little sister.

Ginny flipped her hair and leaned forward. “The one that looks to you like it’s writing what you’re writing but in truth, it’s really writing stuff like, ‘I am in lust with Professor McGonagall’ or ‘Professor Snape needs a good shag and I’m offering?’” Ginny asked, lips forming mischievous smile.

“Yup,” George said, nodding proudly.

“We thought of that ‘Professor McGonagall one’ and the ‘I want to see the Headmaster naked,’” Ginny winced at the mental image, “but not the ‘Professor Snape’ one. We’ll add that to the list,” Fred said.

“How many kinds are you going to make?” Ginny asked, genuinely curious.

“We’re going to create a quill for each professor at Hogwarts,” George answered.

“All of them? Including Hagrid and Firenze?” Ginny asked.

“Yup. Madame Pomfrey, as well,” Fred added.

“Really, boys, you have too much free time on your hands!” Ginny admonished them, failing to hide the giggle that slipped past her lips.

“They’re all going to have sexual innuendoes, as well,” George said, winking at his sister.

“Ewww!” Ginny squealed. “But what are you going to call them? The quills, I mean.”

“Hmmm…we’ve been thinking about that,” Fred mused.

“What about…‘Quilled Innuendoes: the Hogwarts version?’” Ginny suggested.

The twins looked at her before bursting out in unison, “That’s perfect!”

“Do I get paid for giving you the idea?” Ginny asked, raising a fine eyebrow.

Fred and George looked at each other before saying, “Of course not!”

As the three of them dissolved into laughter, George paused and shot Ron a calculating look. Ron just sat there, listlessly moving the food around his plate.

Bill talked to his father about the latest happenings in the Gringgotts branch of Egypt. He had left Egypt to visit his family for the summer but would be returning to the sifting sands near the pyramids and the green waters of the Nile when school started in September.

“What are they saying in Egypt? What’s the atmosphere down there?” Arthur asked.

“Same here. Everyone’s…upset, to put it mildly. They thought that it was all over,” Bill answered.

“All over? What about all those instances of Dark Magic?” Arthur asked. He was frustrated at the amount of obliviousness people showed sometimes.

“Dad, they could ignore all those signs and pretend that the world wasn’t messed up. It was easy to go about and think that everything was right in the world,” Bill explained.

“And now? What’s the difference?”

“It’s harder to pretend that everything’s all right when the evidence to the contrary is right in front of you,” Bill murmured. He shook his head slightly, his dragon tooth earring swaying gently at the movement.

They looked at each other before Arthur changed the subject. “Have you been in contact with Charlie?” Arthur asked, wondering whether he would be seeing his son any time soon. “I received an owl from him but he said he was coming home with you for the summer.”

“He was supposed to. I even Apparated to Romania to fetch him,” Bill said. “Charlie said that he had things to do…for the Order,” he added in a whisper.

“Oh…so…that’s why you have a new dragon tooth earring,” Arthur commented, steering the subject away from the Order.

Bill reached up and fiddled with his new earring, “Charlie’s Horntail has offspring and they’re all teething. He gave me a discarded dragon tooth from the little one of my choice.”

“Really, Bill. With that new earring and your long hair, all the girls---”

“Will be after me like a pack of hungry hyenas,” Bill cut in, a smile gracing his lips. “I’m absolutely yummy!”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Let it be known that I raised my children to know humility. Apparently, you weren’t there when I handed out the memorandums.”

Molly suddenly spoke up, “We need to talk.”

The different conversations around the kitchen table petered out as they turned to look at her. An expectant silence stretched over the table.

Ron slouched lower in his chair. He continued to pick listlessly at his food.

‘Wonderful. Mum feels the need to open her yap. Ugh…as if anyone actually wants to listen to her.’

Ginny placed her hands in her lap and she stared down at her clasped hands.

\'Crap! I wonder if this is about all the owls I’m receiving from Lee. I didn’t think Mum noticed! I only get them at night…’

Ginny worried her lip. Even though Lee Jordan was a fellow Gryffindor and a good friend of her brothers, the fact that he saw her as more than a friend cancelled out all those other points. She sighed.

‘They’re always going to see me as a little girl who never got over her crush on the courageous hero of the Wizarding world.’

The twins looked at each other, guilty expressions alighting on their faces. Fred raised both of his eyebrows and looked at his brother. George knitted his eyebrows together and shook his head.

The twins thought the exact same thing, ‘I hope this isn’t about the explosion… Darn it! I thought we got away with it!’

Bill raised any eyebrow. His mum was only this upset when things didn’t go her way.

‘Maybe she’s upset that Charlie’s not here. Hmm…I already talked to her about that.’

Arthur looked worriedly at his wife. She had been like this the entire day, according to his children. They had tried to talk to her about little things, like asking where was Fred’s red sweater or Ginny’s green brush, but she had shooed them away. When he had gotten home, she wasn’t much better. She kept staring out into space and even when she had fixed supper, her mind was a thousand miles away.

‘She’s only like this when’s she’s worried for her…children. Oh dear, this must be about Percy.’

After the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries, the Weasley family had thought that Percy would recognize the mistake in siding against your family, especially when they knew better than yourself. Arthur himself had expected Percy to apologize and to do his best to make amends.

He had been unpleasantly surprised when Percy said nothing less of wanting nothing more to do with them. He even said that he still believed in all the Ministry had done and how right they were!

‘He believes in an incompetent and corrupt bureaucracy system but he doesn’t believe his own flesh and blood.’

Arthur sighed and shook his head, focusing his attention on his wife.

Molly sat quite still. She worried her lip and looked desolately at her family. She took a deep breath and began to talk.

“I want all of you to listen carefully but to refrain from reacting until after I’m done,” she began.

As she said this, the rest of her family couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of foreboding. An unpleasant sinking weight settled in the pit of their stomachs and made itself comfortable.

‘This doesn’t sound good…’ they all thought. Well, except for one.

‘She really does go for the theatrics, doesn’t she?’ Ron commented to himself. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“I argued with myself all day…on whether to tell you what I’m about to say next. As you can see, I’ve made my decision but it was not an easy one. You might not believe what I’m going to tell you but it’s the truth and I think you deserve nothing less.”

She paused again and closed her eyes briefly, as if whatever she was going to say next hurt even while she was only thinking about it.

“It’s about Harry.”

Everyone’s eyes widened and they sat straighter in their chairs. They instantly became worried. Harry had the penchant of getting into trouble and even with his unnatural good luck, they were afraid that one day… His luck would run out.

Ron, however, scowled. ‘She wouldn’t!’

“Professor McGonagall came to the Burrow this morning and she told me something that left me utterly speechless. She wanted to ask me if Harry was hiding out here.”

Bill’s eyebrow knitted together in a frown. ‘Hide out? Why on earth would he need to hide out?’

“I told her that we haven’t had contact with Harry since we waved goodbye to him in King’s Cross. Well, discounting the fact that Hedwig arrived here a little bit after the summer started and won’t leave.”

Ginny nodded absently. She had been sitting in the garden, writing a letter to Lee when Hedwig had flown in and landed next to her. To say that she had been surprised was an understatement. Hedwig hadn’t been carrying any letters from Harry and up to now, she refused to leave the Burrow. Ginny had volunteered to take care of Harry’s owl and Hedwig had taken up residence in Ginny’s room.

“She looked… disheartened… but it was as if she expected me to say no. I asked her why dearest Harry would need to ‘hide out’ for anything. She looked at me so… desolately. Her answer… shocked me beyond words.”

Fred and George looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. ‘Uh-oh. This doesn’t sound good.’

“Harry…our Harry is on the run from the Ministry,” Molly choked out.

Arthur looked stunned. ‘Impossible! I would have known about it! But on the other hand, it is Fudge we’re talking about. But…Harry?’

Molly took another deep breath and continued what she was going to say, “Harry cast an Unforgivable…the Cruciatus Curse…on his cousin.”

A deathly silence filled the room. The cackling of the gnomes could be heard in the garden as they wreaked havoc on Molly’s prized chrysanthemums. No one made a move to stop them. They were all sitting shell-shocked at the kitchen table.

After a few moments, chaos interrupted.

“Harry would never do that!” Ginny screamed, standing up abruptly and knocking her chair over.

Fred got up as well, “Mum! That can’t be true! It’s probably just another ploy of the Ministry to discredit Harry!”

“Why would the Ministry do that? Sure, they haven’t made the best decisions but they don’t outright lie,” Bill reasoned, opting to sit down.

“This is the Ministry we’re talking about! Of course, they ‘outright lie,’ as you so prettily put it, Bill,” George said, coming to his twin’s defense.

“Settle down,” Arthur said. “I agree with Bill. True, the Ministry’s reasons have been dubious now and then---”

“Now and then? Try always!” Fred countered.

They all started yelling at each other, their voices rising into a chaotic, unruly crescendo. They were angrily gesturing at each other as they argued.

Ginny screamed, “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

Everyone froze mid-word and turned to look at her.

“What’s wrong with all of you? Why are we even fighting about such stupid things? The Ministry? Last school year? Who cares?!” Ginny screamed.

“We shouldn’t be arguing like this when there’s something more important at stake! Harry. He needs our support and we’re his only family. His Muggle relatives don’t count! Don’t you see? Regardless of whether he did or didn’t do what the Ministry, what Professor McGonagall said he did, he’s still Harry. Our Harry. So…pull yourselves together.” Ginny said.

Molly looked at her only daughter. Ginny looked so…grown-up in that instant. So mature. Ginny was right and she said so.

“Ginny’s right. We’ve made utter fools of ourselves by prattling on about what we think. It doesn’t matter; Harry needs our help and he’s going to get it,” Molly said determinedly.

Everyone looked at each other for a moment before apologies started flying. And just like that, everything was better. But…that’s the way it is with families.

Molly gathered Ginny in her arms and hugged her. Everyone started to talk and laugh, getting along as families are wont to do.

Ron rolled his eyes and stood up, pushing his plate away from him.

“I think I lost my appetite,” he said. He just grimaced when no one even paid the slightest bit of attention to him.

He trudged up the stairs and to his room.

*You’re second fiddle whenever the Golden Boy’s around…*

‘Always,’ his thoughts whispered without even realizing it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

{Privet Drive}

Remus stood behind several large bushes, watching the goings-on near # 4 Privet Drive. To Muggle eyes, it would have looked like any normal, ordinary Saturday night. However, to trained wizards who were not under clo cloaking spell, it looked like an utter zoo.

Aurors wandered around the house, the tips of their wands lit up by the Lumos spell. Ministry personnel clumped together in groups of twos or threes, whispering amongst themselves. A lone Ministry official talked agitatedly into a floating orange orb in front of him. All in all, the perfect example of a Wizarding crime scene.

Remus surveyed the scene before him, searching for some sort of clue as to what had happened this morning. He crouched down when two Aurors passed by his hiding place.

“When do you think we can go home?” the younger of the two Aurors asked his companion.

“When this entire hoopla is over,” his companion answered in a much lower voice.

“Do you think…it really happened?” the younger Auror asked, curiosity evident in his voice. “The Ministry’s made up things before.”

His companion beadily looked at him before replying, “Sure, but this is for real. I was there when both the alarms for Dark magic and underage magic went off. As procedure dictated, we checked where the alarms were going haywire. This place was it. The Boy-who-Lived’s residence to boot.”

“Oh… What happened anyway?”

“When we got here, the Boy-who-Lived was already gone. We found his Muggle relatives in the front hall. The woman was hysterically sobbing and holding her son in her arms. The man was so…distraught we had to use the Stupefy spell on him,” the older Auror narrated, looking out into the distance as if something troubled him greatly.

“They were the ones the Mediwizards took to St. Mungo’s weren’t they?”

“Yup.”

The two stood there in a pensive silence before their superior called them away.

Remus stayed where he was for a few moments, making sure the two Aurors were a safe distance away, before he carefully stood up and made his way away from the house. As soon as he was a safe distance away, he raised his wand.

“Apparate St. Mungo’s!” he cried out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Remus hated St. Mungo’s. He hated the clinical, unfeeling atmosphere and the sounds of the sick, dying or…insane. This place gave him the heebie-jeebies. Maybe it was just him but ever since he was infected and his parents rushed him here, only to find out there was nothing that could be done, there was no love lost between hospitals and him. He had come to associate St. Mungo’s with ‘where you were sent to when you couldn’t be cured.’

Remus inconspicuously walked past milling Mediwizards and nurses. Past sick patients and their anxious families. He discretely avoided anyone that might have him kicked out of the place. He spied the door that led to the patients of the more serious Dark Arts curses and he looked around, checking to see if the c was was clear. Seeing that this was so, he casually entered the ward as if he belonged there. When he entered with no one stopping him, he walked farther into the ward and started to look for the Dursleys.

He walked past several rooms wherein there were several patients in a common area and he decided that they would not be there.

‘They’re Muggles and their only son has just been hit with a very powerful and prolonged Cruciatus Curse. I don’t think they’d be placed in a rooth eth everyone else.’

He walked further into the ward until he reached the solitary rooms. These rooms provided more privacy and would the perfect place to hide the Dursleys. He passed the first few rooms before coming across a room with the nameplate saying, “Muggles.”

Remus smiled cheerlessly to himself.

‘Here we are.’

He entered the room without knocking and shut the door behind him, leaving the room in semi-darkness. The only light was from the moonlight streaming in from an open window. His presence didn’t even evoke a response from the room’s inhabitants. The Dursley boy, Dudley, was lying unmoving on the bed with his mother, Petunia, clutching onto his hand and silently sobbing. His father, Vernon, was staring, unseeing, out the window, his pudgy hands clenched into a fist.

Remus frowned, ‘Now or never, I guess.’

“Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley? Mr. and Mrs. Dursley?” he called to them.

Vernon turned ook ook at Remus and grimaced when he saw the werewolf.

“What do you want? I thought the other fr---, ‘wizards’ said the tests were over? Are you going to poke him with those sticks of yours now? It was bad enough that they cast…spells on him and you want to do more?” Vernon asked incredulously, with a touch of anger in his voice.

“You know, your freakish ways are the reason my son is like this in the first place! I refuse to let you go anywhere near him! You’re probably making…whatever he has even worse!” Vernon yelled at Remus, thinking he was one of the Mediwizards.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Dursley, if you’d so kindly stop insulting the people who are busy trying to save your son’s life…” he said.

Vernon halted his tirade and looked at Remus. “Trying to save? What do you mean trying to save? Your doctors, witchdoctors---”

“Mediwizards,” Remus interrupted.

“Whatever! They said they couldn’t do anything about Dudley’s condition!, yo, you come in here and say they’re trying to ‘save’ him?” Vernon all but bellowed.

Petunia stood up, nearly knocking her chair over in the process. “That’s enough! That’s enough, Vernon!”

Remus and Vernon both turned to look at Petunia, surprised. Remus was surprised because he had thought her to be so wrapped up in her son, she had not even realized he was there. Vernon was surprised, unpleasantly so, because Petunia rarely contradicted him.

“Both of you, stop it! You’re upsetting my Dudley!” she said, clearly distraught.

“Vernon, they…the wizards are trying to help us. They could have left us in our home and not even bother to take us to their…hospital. So please, Vernon, don’t aggravate them. They are only hope of ever getting Dudley back. I know how much you hate…magic but…it could save his life,” she whispered. She looked sadly at Dudley and sat down again by his bedside, taking his hand in her own once more.

Vernon quieted down after hearing his wife’s plea. He might be a horrible uncle, neighbor, person…but he loved his wife and his son. And if dealing with magic was what it took to make his son better, he’d deal with his issues.

“Well, what did you want to tell us…Doctor?” he asked tiredly, sitting down on the chair opposite to his wife.

Remus looked at them before replying, “I’m not a…doctor, as you phrase it. I’m an…Auror. That’s like---”

Vernon cut him off, “I know what an Auror is. I already talked to them. They came over to the house. What I want to know is why you’re talking to me. I already told you people everything that I knew.”

Remus ‘ummed’ and ‘ahhed’ at that statement.

He reached for a vial in his robes. He brought it out discretely and walked over to a table holding a pitcher of water and glasses. He poured two glasses of water and inconspicuously added three drops of Veritaserum, the strongest and most efficient truth serum in the entire Wizarding world, in each glass. He handed the glasses to the both of them and smiled inwardly when they each took a long sip.

“I’m going to ask a couple of follow-up questions. It’s standard procedure,” he said.

They both nodded.

“Right. Let’s review what happened this morning,” Remus said.

“Well, Petunia and I went to the grocer and we left Dudley and…Harry,” he spat out, “at home.”

“Why didn’t you bring Dudley with you?” Remus asked. “I’d imagine that a…healthy boy like Dudley would like to go with you to the grocer.”

Vernon answered, “You know how teenagers are. They hate being seen with their parents. Dudley…” he trailed off. He frowned and tried again, “Dudley is…” He shook his head in confusion. “Dudley---” he cut himself off. “Dudley…wanted to torture that freak of a cousin of his and he asked us to leave them alone in the house so he could give that freak whatdesedeserved,” he said in rush.

Vernon’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe what he had just said. And neither could his wife.

“Vernon! What is the matter with you?” she practically screeched, looking anxiously at Remus. “How can you tell such utter…truth,” she suddenly spat out. She clapped her hands over her mouth.

Vernon looked angrily at Remus. “What did you do to us?”

Remus looked coolly at Vernon. “Why do you think I did anything to you?”

“Because I wouldn’t be telling the…truth if you didn’t poison me or something!” he yelled.

“So…you admit it. You lied to the Aurors who questioned you earlier but you’re telling me the truth now?”
ernoernon glared as he realized that he had been backed into a wall.

“Let’s continue, shall we?” Remus suggested.

“Absolutely not! Not until we get a lawyer!” Vernon said.

“That would be a problem, Mr. Dursley. If you ask for a lawyer, I’ll have to report to my…supervisor that you and the Mrs. here lied during questioning. They’ll put you in our Wizarding prison, Azkaban. And trust me, you wouldn’t like it. Also, with the two of you locked up, your son would be all alone…” Remus trailed off.

“I can’t believe you’re…blackmailing us…” Petunia whispered.

“I’m doing my job,” Remus said in a steely voice.

‘And be thankful that I don’t do anything worse!’

“Shall we continue?” Remus asked, with a sharp edge to his voice.

They nodded stiffly.

“What happened when arriarrived at your residence?”

“We got out of the car and we thought we heard screams. We ran into the house and saw…Dudley convulsing on the hallway floor,” Vernon choked out.

“He was screaming,” Petunia said, tears sliding down her face as she held her son’s hand tighter.

“Harry was pointing that stick, wand of his at Dudley and I shook him and told him to stop whatever he was doing. He did and I told him to leave and never come back. I think he got some things from his…room. He then left,” Vernon finished.

“Did he take his trunk?”

“No, it was in the cupboard.” Vernon smiled inanely to himself. “That’s actually his real room. We made him sleep there until he was eleven and he got that ‘admissions letter’ from his freakish school.”

Remus frowned at Vernon. He had heard the rumors but never believed them because of how farfetched they had sounded. Apparently, he was wrong. “Why did you make him sleep in a cupboard?”

“He belonged there,” Petunia said. She didn’t even look at Remus.

“He’s a freak, just like my sister. Mother and Father were so proud when she received her ‘letter.’ They got her everything she needed for that ‘school’ of hers and they even celebrated her going. They never saw her for the freak she was. She was unnatural and so was the man she married. I thought that after their deaths and when I took Harry in, I could beat the strangeness out of him…but I couldn’t. Look what that got me. A son lying in a coma and he’ll probably never wake up or be normal again. I should have let Harry die or thrown him out when Vernon told me to,” she stopped talking and looked at Re

“I can’t ask you to catch him for me, for Dudley and ‘punish’ him because you’re just like him. You’ll probably give him a slap on the wrist or something like that. Besides, even if you lock him up in that Wizarding prison of yours, what good will that do? No, the only thing that can be done is to rid the world of unnatural freaks like him, you you. You don’t belong here,” she said. Undisguised hate and malice shone in her eyes.

“Well, you know everything you need to know. Yes, we beat him and starved him and locked him in a cupboard. We showed him every single day that he was a miserable, pathetic excuse for a human being and that he was better off dead like his parents. Yes, Dudley was in on it. He had this game, ‘Harry Hunting.’ We raised our son to think his cousin was lower than him. Yes, Dudley probably deserved what happened to him. And we deserve what happened but not for the reasons you’re thinking. We deserved it because we didn’t throw him out when we had the chance,” she finished, tears glittering in her eyes.

“Ynow now everything you need to know. Leave,” Petunia instructed, turning her back on him. Vernon, too, ignored him and held his wife’s free hand.

Remus looked at them for a moment, shocked by all that had just happened. He finally gathered his wits about him and walked to the door. As he opened it, he looked back at them.

‘I pity them. Not because of what happened to their son but because of who they are. They’re such ignorant, bigoted, hateful, hurtful, spiteful people and they’re drowning in their own prejudice and malice. People, not just Muggles. People like them make this world so much more intolerable.’

He exited their room and set off down the corridor and out of the hospital. He wanted to leave this place.

‘Wonderful, another awful memory associated with St. Mungo’s.’

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

{Cervello, Magnum’s quarters, after Magnum’s confession}

Harry lay on Magnum’s bed, his head on Magnum’s lap. Magnum stroked his hair as they sat there in perfect silence.

“Have you ever thought of leaving Cervello?” Harry asked suddenly.

Magnum started, surprised by the suddenness of the question. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you ever wish that you’d be free to do what you want? That you’d no longer have to cater to the…whims of others?” Harry asked, blushing slightly at his question. “I mean, aren’t you tired of…being used?”

Magnum frowned, not liking the way Harry portrayed him as some sort of slave to the sexual whims of power-hungry wizards. He sighed.

“Harry, let’s try to explain this to you. I am free here. Sure, this isn’t exactly the ‘perfect’ idea of freedom, what with responsibilities and rules galore, but this is the sort of freedom I’ve always craved. I want the kind of freedom wherein I control my own destiny, my own life. The freedom to make my own choices, and I have that here. I want to be here,” Magnum gently said.

Harry had this lost expression on his face. “But how about sleeping with total strangers? Of being used?”

Magnum wryly grinned. “Harry, how do you think I meet my patrons?”

Harry looked even more confused, “Ummm…on the…street?”

Magnum raised an eyebrow. “I don’t solicit, Harry. They come to me through Alexander. I have a private audience with them and if I like them, we draw up an agreement regarding his ‘patronage.’ I make the choices, Harry.”

“Ohhh…”

“Also, I don’t really think of it as ‘being used.’ I think of it as pleasuring someone because they wish me to…and getting pleasured in return. As for the total strangers part, I’ve known most of my patrons for quite some time and am extremely familiar with them. Familiar enough to know whether they prefer it light and teasing or hard and rough. Whether they wish for me to be submissive or quite aggressive,” he said suggestively, smiling in amusement when Harry blushed again.

“That’s why I don’t consider them strangers,” he finished.

“I feel quite dumb now. I can’t believe I jumped to the conclusion that you were…unhappy here when it’s so obvious you’re not.” Harry shook his head. “I suppose it’s an aftereffect of growing up with the Dursleys.”

Magnum shrugged. “Sometimes, we react to situations the only way we know how. It’s not your fault, Harry,” he appeased.

Harry smiled and leant into Magnum’s caress. He reached for one of the fluffy pillows near him and hugged it. He buried his face in the downy pillow and breathed in the lingering scent that he determined to be Magnum’s.

‘He smells like…citron and sandalwood. Of summer and of life.’

Despite the invigorating, energizing scent that Magnum gave off, Harry found himself drifting off. It had been a very a long, arduous and tiring day. He was exhausted, inside and out.

‘I’ve cast an Unforgivable on my cousin. I’ve run away from home and quite possibly all I’ve even known and loved. I’ve befriended a total stranger and found out that we have more in common than anyone else. I’ve come to live and work at a boarding house for courtesans. I’ve stumbled across my archrival in the same place I wanted to hide in. Top that all off with finding out that I am most certainly gay. Whoop-dee-do. Talk about a whirlwind.’

He tried to stop thinking, just letting the contentment and peace wash over him. He focused on the hand stroking his hair and the gentle breeze that ruffled the curtains near the now open windows.

He had already closed his eyes when he heard Magnum’s voice on the edges of his consciousness.

“What’s a ‘good’ type of secret you’ve kept from everyone else because you thought it was too personal to share?” Magnum asked.

Harry frowned through the haze of sleepiness. “I don’t really understand your question,” he murmured.

“For example, I know how to play the violin. I’m quite good at it actually. I used to take these ‘secret lessons’ from the music tutor at du Loup Manor. I’ve never told this to anyone before,” Magnum said.

Harry sat up but kept his arms around the pillow he had kidnapped. “You can? What’s the piece you like to play the most?”

Magnum thought carefully. “Hmm…it’d have to be Vivaldi’s ‘Il Piacere’. I play it pretty well but that’s only because of all the practice I’ve done. But, how about you? Any musical talents you’d like to share?” he asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

“I wanted to learn how to play the piano but Aunt Petunia didn’t want to ‘waste’ the lessons on me,” he said quietly.

Magnum said soothingly, “Zen would love to teach you how to play.”

“Really? I’d like that,” Harry said, smiling once again. “Actually, I can sing a bit.”

Magnum raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Care for a demonstration?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said.

“Come on,” Magnum coaxed. “I’ll play for you afterwards.”

“Well, I suppose,” Harry relented. “What should I sing?”

Magnum shrugged. “You’re asking me? Sing whatever you feel like singing,” he suggested.

Harry nodded and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth.

“Sometimes I wonder if the world is as beautiful as people say
For all I see each and everyday is suffering and so much pain
Sometimes I wonder whether life is truly worth living in
For all I feel is the emptiness that claws inside my veins

But when I close my eyes at night
I dream and think of you
You take me in your warm embrace
And show me a love that’s true

When all the world is lying still
And silence prevails so well
I feel your kisses in the night
And of the love they tell

I wander through desolate streets and see nothing but such fear
And once again I wonder if we’re truly meant to be here
I walk past crying children, orphans left in the cold
I w I wonder once again why young faces seem so old

But when I close my eyes at night
I dream and think of you
You take me in your warm embrace
And show me a love that’s true

When all the world is lying still
And silence prevails so well
I feel your kisses in the night
And of the love they tell

You chase away all the darkness that resides within my dark and lonely heart
You help me brave through this drudgery to find a brand new start

For when I close my eyes at night
I dream and think of you
You take me in your warm embrace
And show me a love that’s true

When all the world is lying still
And silence prevails so well
I feel your kisses in the night
And of the love they tell…

And of the love they tell…”

Harry stopped singing and turned to look at Magnum.

Magnum had this awestruck look on his face. He breathlessly proclaimed, “Merlin, Harry. You can’t sing ‘a bit’; you can sing a whole lot! You were amazing. I can’tg lig like that!”

Harry blushed and shook his head. “I’m not that good and it’s not really that big of a deal,” he protested.

“Not that good? Not a big deal?” Magnum asked incredulously. “Harry, sorry to sound cliché, but you have the voice of an angel. You should be proud of that.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?” he asked.

“Seriously,” Magnum confirmed. “You know what? You could sing for the patrons!”

“What?” Harry exclaimed. “Yougot got to be joking.”

“No! It’s perfect! Zen plays the piano while you stand in front of it and sing. You’ll be a hit with the patrons. With your voice, and your looks, they’d be mesmerized!” Magnum proclaimed, a manic gleam in his violet eyes.

Harry shook his head in wry amusement “Magnum, not to burst your bubble, but singing in front of people would entail ‘singing in front of people’ and I don’t think I can do that,” Harry said apologetically. “I hate being the center of attention. I got enough of that as the Boy-who-Lived.”

“Don’t you see, Harry? This is the perfect opportunity for you to be known for who you are, not who you are thought to be. You’ll just be Harry here and if someone pays attention to you, it’s because you did something on your own,” Magnum said.

Harry bit his lip. He liked the idea of singing in front of people and having them focus on something other than his scar. “What if Alexander doesn’t agree? Or Zen?”

“No worries a the the both of them. Alexander will agree if I push for it and Zen wouldn’t mind at all,” Magnum answered.

“So…what do you think?” Magnum asked, anticipation practically rolling off in him waves.

Harry internally sighed and laid his head on Magnum’s lap again. “Why not?” He smiled when he heard Magnum’s whoop of triumph. He placed the pillow over his eyes once again and didn’t fight the pull of sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

{Severus Snape’s private Potions laboratory, Hogwarts}

Severus rubbed his tired eyes and straightened his hunched form. He winced when he felt his back creak in protest. He had spent most of last night and all of this early morning creating one of Lord Voldemort’s age-renewal and rejuvenation potions.

The Dark Lord had regaihis his corporeal form after the TriWizard tournament, but not the body he had once had. Severus now brewed potions to make him have at least some semblance of a normal-looking body.

Lord Voldemort had always been a vain man.

Back when he was still considered one of the most charismatic and beautiful people in the Wizarding world, he had used both traits as an added advantage to his power base. His followers didn’t just blindly stumble along the path he created; they were swayed by his devilishly handsome looks and suave charm.

The Side of Light had realized how dangerous those traits were. Lord Voldemort had proved himself capable of swaying even the most upstanding of citizens. So in defense of their numbers, they had painted the Dark Lord in a very bad light indeed. While some of the things they had said about him - like how he advocated purebloods and castigated Muggles and Mudbloods, or how he dealt in Dark Arts – were true, others were totally untrue. The Dark Lord did not participate in cannibalistic rituals that involved the devouring of children. His Lord had been very upset at that one. Luckily, Lucius was able to calm him down.

Severus thought, ‘After all, who needed idiots for followers?’

He extinguished the fire underneath the cauldron and waited for the liquid that was bubbling inside to simmer down. Once he did, he looked at the potion. Not to check if he had done everything right, he knew he did. He just wanted to look at the potion.

The potion had been one of his finest creations.

It was part illusionary and part transmutation, all based on a spell that determined what sort of alteration you wished to take place. It wore off after a week, the longest-lasting transmutation potion around. This was partly due to the illusionary effect of the potion but, still, it was quite a feat. Polyjuice, another transmutation potion, lasted only an hour before it wore off.

His potion was flawless and he had created it. If he marketed the recipe to the general populace or the businesses dealing in potions marketing, Severus was sure that he could live comfortably off the money he generated from the inventor’s fee. However, as said before, he was not thinking about that.

He was thinking of the potion and how utterly…beautiful it looked. As with most transmutation potions, it was green. But…it was the most beautiful sort of green he had ever imagined to see for a potion. When light hit it, the potion seemed to shine iridescently.

Severus sat quite still, mesmerized by the luminous quality the potion emitted as a shaft of sunlight from a dungeons window hit it.

‘They’re like…Potter’s eyes,’ he thought wonderingly.

‘It doesn’t have a name yet,’ he mused. ‘I’m sure it would be a huge surprise for…His Royal Majesty if I named the potion he’s taking after his enemy.’

He smiled mirthlessly to himself.

Severus moved away from the cauldron and walked to a locked cabinet. He took his wand and tapped it against the cabinet doors.

The doors opened to reveal a wide array of vials. There were vials made of glass and crystal. There were clear vials and vials tinted in a vast collection of colors. The vials were of different shapes and sizes. Each vial was unique and used for storing only the most important of his potions. Needless to say, his dunderheads of students were not using these for the potions they created in class.

Severus had been collecting rare and unique potion vials ever since he was a child. His mother had indulged his interest for these delicate pieces of art and had given Severus a vial at every opportunity. He l hal had the first vial he had received from her, a delicate vial cut from a rose topaz the size of a giant’s fist. The design was quite simple; the vial itself more than made up for the simplicity.

However, the vials were not merely collectibles. They were especially prized as containers for the more unstable or capricious of potions. He used them whenever he created such a potion.

Severus reached behind a crystal vial the shape of a bell. His questing fingers found what he looklooking for and closed around a delicate object. He brought it out into the light.

A clear glass vial the size of a man’s fist sat cradled in his palm. It had a long neck and the top of the stopper was in the shape of a diamond.

Severus walked backed to the cauldron and scooped out a small amount. He transferred it to the vial, the potion filling the vial just to the right level. He stoppered the vial and placed it within his robes. He muttered a cleaning charm and waved his wand over the objects he used to create the potion. He then set all these aside but left the cauldron on the bench.

Severus extinguished all the candles and reached for his Death Eater mask and cloak, sitting beside him on another stool. He left the room, locking the door with a strong locking charm. He swept down the hall and up the dungeon stairs. The doors leading to the grounds were wide open and he exited through them, heading for the Forbidden Forrest and just past the boundaries of the Anti-Apparition wards. Once in the darkness of the haunted woods, he Apparated to his Lord’s stronghold.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus appeared in front of an imposing and intimidating manor. The house loomed in front of him, offering whispers of torture and murmurs of pain. A breath of cold wind curled around him and Severus pulled his cloak tighter about him. He took a deep breath and entered the “Serpent’s Lair.”

Severus walked past the several Death Eaters that milled about. He ignored all of them as he climbed the elegant main staircase and walked down the hall to his Lord’s private quarters. He knocked on the mahogany door.

“My Lord? It is Severus,” he called out.

A voice from within the room answered him, “Come in, Severus.”

Severus opened the double doors and walked into the Dark Lord’s sitting room. He took off his mask when he entered the room and placed it within his robes.

Lord Voldemort sat on a gilded couch with Nagini wrapped around his feet. Her head lay in his lap and he was gently stroking it. The white serpent opened one eye to look at the newcomer but closed it again when she saw it was Severus.

Wormtail stood a few paces to the back of the couch, glaring at Severus with mistrust. Hesed sed his lips and they curled into a disdainful smile as he looked in Severus’ direction. He clenched and unclenched his silver arm, making a show of it.

Pettigrew had always been a coward who groveled at his master’s feet. Even when they had been at school together, he had been the same. Severus had always wondered how the Marauders had been able to stand him.

When Wormtail had been newly initiated, he had bent over backwards…and forwards to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord. He had gone as far as to give up the Potters’ hiding place. Even Severus, a Slytherin who believed in survival of the fittest, had thought it a despicable thing to do.

After all this time, Wormtail had finally received his “reward” for betraying his friends and staying loyal to his master. And in Severus’ opinion, this made the rat feel all too sure of himself.

‘I’d best show him that he could never intimidate me.’

Severus’ sneered in Wormtail’s direction and let his eshowshow all the revulsion and loathing he felt for the man. Wormtail narrowed his eyes and stared back. They continued this battle of wills for some time before the Dark Lord interrupted them.

“Wormtail, you may leave,” he said, dismissing the rat. He had apparently grown tired of their game.

Wormtail broke the stare. He looked confusedly at his master, only to have Lord Voldemort raise his eyebrow and point to the door. Wormtail hastily bowed and made his way out of the Dark Lord’s quarters, but not before shooting Severus a dark look.

Once Wormtail was out of the room, Lord Voldemort’s thin and barely existent lips formed a mockery of a smile. “So good of you to visit, Severus.” The potion Severus had last given him had already worn off.

Severus nodded in response. “I am here to give you your potion.” He extracted the potion from within the folds of his robes and approached the Dark Lord, holding it out to him.

The Dark Lord nodded as well when he saw the vial. “The potion you gave me a week ago wore off last night,” he stated, taking the vial from Severus.

Severus straightened. “I realized that, my Lord. I could not give it to you any sooner. I am truly sorry,” he apologized, bowing again. “Dumbledore watches me like a hawk. I could only get away now,” he added.

Lord Voldemort nodded absently while he stared at the vial in his hands. “I never noticed how green it was before,” he murmured, more to himself than Severus.

Severus frowned, not knowing what to say.

The Dark Lord snapped out of his pensive mood and looked at Severus. “Ah…yes. Of course. I suppose I should take this now?”

“If you wish, my Lord.”

Lord Voldemort continued to look at Severus for a moment before he drank the potion. He carefully set the vial on the low table in front of him and awaited the change.

In the space of a heartbeat, the Dark Lord began to change. His scaly, grayish skin became smooth and healthy once again, taking the color of milk with the faintest hint of a glow. His emaciated and sunken form began to fill out with supple yet slender muscles, giving him a strong yet slim appearance. The graying and wispy hair on his head thickened and lengthened, turning ebony black once more and the luster of his hair creating a glossy waterfall down his back.

His face took on a more human appearance. His lips, no longer thin to the point of absence, were now blood red and full. His nose, no longer two slits in the middle of his face, formed a strong and high bridge. His cheeks were no longer gaunt, filling out and turning the color of peaches.

But, his eyes. Oh, his eyes. They had a lovely almond-shape to them but the color of his irises was still a blood-chilling red. A sign, perhaps, of the demon that he was.

The change happened in a matter of minutes but to Severus, it felt like a lifetime. He exhaled when the Dark Lord stopped changing. Whether out of disappointment or relief, he didn’t know.

The Dark Lord stood up gracefully and walked to the wall-length mirror that graced the entire east wall. He stared at his reflection and smiled. He wonderingly touched his hair and caressed his face, as if disbelieving what he saw before him. He let out a mirthful laugh and twirled in front of the mirror, preening at his reflection.

Lord Voldemort turned to Severus. “No matter how many times we go through this, Severus, I am still amazed at the change that happens,” he said, his voice a deep and musical tenor once again. “You are truly gifted.” He held out a slender hand.

Severus quickly approached and knelt in front if his Lord, kissing the hand that had been offered in front of him. The Dark Lord stroked his hair, as a master might caress his favorite pet.

“I’m glad that you washed your hair thoroughly, Severus. You know how displeased I get when you forget your appearance,” he murmured almost tenderly. He continued to stroke the silky black strands.

Severus continued to kneel there, head bowed down. During times like these, he often had fleeting thoughts – to give up fighting, give up lying, give up eveing ing and just…surrender. Then, he remembered all the pain and suffering he caused innocent people, Muggle or not, and all the pain and suffering he caused people he loved. That was when he remembered that all of the pain, all of the trials, and all of the difficulties he went through were worth it. There was only one word that could describe his mission: atonement.

The hand on his head stopped moving and gently extracted itself from his hair. The Dark Lord moved away from the kneeling Severus and sat down once again on the gilded couch. He hissed to Nagini and the white snake slowly slithered through a partly open door on the opposite wall of the mirror. He gestured to Severus.

Severus got up and walked over to the Dark Lord, gracefully seating himself on the floor beside the Dark Lord. His Lord once again began to stroke his hair. They stayed like that for some time, in silence and relative peace.

“Severus, what do you know of Potter’s disappearance?” Lord Voldemort asked quietly. But to Severus, the Dark Lord’s voice seemed to echo and reverberate through the vaulted room.

Severus stiffened and tried to relax again just as quickly so that the Dark Lord would not notice his reaction but his Lord made no mention of it.

Severus tried to keep his voice even and steady as he replied, “Not much, my Lord. Dumbledore keeps most of his secrets to himself. All that old coot told the staff was that Potter had disappeared from his relatives’ home and that the Ministry was looking for him.”

The Dark Lord made some sort of agreeing sound. Severus pushed on, “No one knows where he is, my Lord. He has not gone to the Weasley’s home or to the house of his Mudblood girlfriend.”

The Dark Lord stopped stroking his hair, “Are you sure he is not hiding somewhere within Hogwarts? Perhaps Dumbledore is hiding him…”

Severus kept silent.

“You’d be amazed at the amount of information you can garner in so short a time,” Lord Voldemort commented.

When Severus still did not say anything, he tightened his grasp on Severus’ hair.

Severus winced.

“It’d be best that you keep nothing from me, my lovely. You don’t want to upset me, do you?” the Dark Lord whispered malevolently in Severus’ ear.

Severus shook his head, remembering the last time he “upset” his Lord. “No, my Lord.”

“Well, then?”

Severus swallowed, “Dumbledore truly does not know where Potter is hiding. Thusly, Potter is not within Hogwarts’ castle walls. Dumbledore only said that to the Minister so that the Ministry would call off the Aurors who were searching for the brat.”

“Now, why would Dumbledore want them to call off the search? I would expect him to be quite eager about getting his Saviour back,” the Dark Lord commented.

Severus lowered his head in defeat. “The Ministry is after Potter’s blood because he cast an Unforgivable on his cousin.” When his answer was met with silence, Severus lifted his head to look at his Lord.

The Dark Lord had the most peculiar expression on his face. Just as Severus was about to say something, Lord Voldemort started to laugh. He laughed freely and joyfully.

Severus started and looked at him with wide eyes. “My Lord?” he asked apprehensively, wondering if his mad Lord finally turned too far around the bend this time around.

Lord Voldemort stopped laughing and looked at Severus. “No worries, Severus. I have not lost my mind. It is just the absurdity of this moment. My enemy, the ‘light of the Wizarding world,’ casting an Unforgivable? On his cousin, no less! Which was it?” he asked, truly sounding curious.

e Cre Cruciatus,” Severus answered.

Lord Voldemort smiled, “Not my favorite of the three but still, the Cruciatus Curse,” he said wonderingly.

“To cast the Cruciatus, you must be in a presence of mind wherein you are willing to consciously inflict pain on someone else, and enjoy it. That is the beauty of the Unforgivables, enjoying the pain and the suffering of your victims. I never thought that the ‘Boy-who-Lived’ had it in him.”

The Dark Lord turned to Severus, “Tchanchanges things, Severus. I don’t know to what extent. But this changes things,” he whispered with a manic gleam in his eyes.

Severus inwardly shuddered at the look in his Lord’s eyes.

Lord Voldemort turned to Severus and smirked. “My lovely, I think you deserve a prize. And I think I do, too.”

Severus froze at those words and could only watch in growing horror as the Dark Lord gestured with his hands and all the open windows and doors shut. Candleddenddenly came to life, giving the room a warm glow. However, all Severus felt was the coldness that steeped in every pore of him.

Lord Voldemort stood and smiled evilly in Severus’ direction. He pulled Severus up and moved him in front of the mirror. He stood behind Severus and wrapped his arms around him.

“You are beautiful, don’t you know that Severus? You are beautiful because you are immersed in darkness and pain, evil and suffering. You are beautiful,” the Dark Lord whispered.

Severus could do nothing but watch as Lord Voldemort slid his hands down the front
of his chest and opened his robes. Severus wore nothing underneath his robes so the Dark Lord immediately came in contact with bare skin. Severus hissed a bit when his Lord’s cold hands touched his pale skin.

“So perfect,” the Dark Lord murmured. He nibbled on Severus’ ear lobe and Severus couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure that found its way past his lips. He tilted back his head, exposing his slender throat. The Dark Lord ran his tongue along the pale column of his exposed throat before stopping where hulseulse beat the strongest.

“You are mine,” he said harshly before biting down. Severus jerked forward and let out a keening wail. He felt his Lord break the skin and blood well in the wound. The Dark Lord lapped it up with his tongue as his fingers toyed with Severus’ nipples.

Severus felt his head start swimming at the sensations and all his blood start pooling in his groin. The Dark Lord stopped his ministrations and slid Severus’ robe of his shoulders. It pooled around Severus’ naked form and Severus stepped out of the circle of his clothes, kicking it away as he did so.

“Take off your boots,” Lord Voldemort ordered.

Severus shakily nodded and stepped away from his Lord. He bent down to take of his boots, exposing his backside to the Dark Lord. He tugged off one boot and was about to take off the other when he felt a finger caress the puckered entrance between the cheeks of his buttocks. He let out a moan as the finger lightly circled the rose-colored entrance and hissed in pleasure when he felt a fingernail scrape across it. He moaned in distress when the finger left.

A voice whispered in his ear, “Did I tell you to stop taking off your boots?”

Severus shook his head and took off his other boot, before standing upright. The Dark Lord circled his arms around Severus’ slim waist, the silk of his robes feeling so deliciously cool on Severus’ heated and flushed skin. “Look at yourself in the mirror, Severus. Tell me that you don’t think you’re beautiful,” he whispered, nibbling at the junction between jaw and neck as Severus exposed his throat.

Against his will, Severus found himself looking at the mirror. He nearly moaned again when he saw the picture they made. Severus with his head thrown back onlyonly and his Lord resting his chin on his shoulder, licking his pale throat. Even from this distance, he could see the bruise the Dark Lord had previously made on his skin.

His attention was drawn to his Lord’s hands as they played with his nipples once again, alternately pinching and rolling them between his fingers. Severus felt his cock twitch and get impossibly harder. He watched in utmost fascination as one of the Dark Lord’s hands travel down his chest, caressing the pale skin as he went. He lightly stroked the taut muscles of Severus’ stomach and Severus felt himself shiver. The hand continued to travel further down, stopping to dip itself in Severus’ navel. Severus started to whimper and he closed his eyes.

The hand stopped its ministrations. “Open your eyes,” the voice ordered.

Severus opened his eyes and found the hand poised above his twitching cock. “Do you want me to touch it, Severus? Do you want me to fondle the need between your legs? Do you want me to caress the throbbing organ in front of you until it bursts its seed in my hand?” the Dark Lord asked.

Severus nodded hastily, finding it hard to speak, to breathe.

“You’ll have to use that exquisite voice of yours, Severus,” the Dark Lord whispered.

Severus took a deep breath. “Yes, my Lord. Please…please…touch me,” he breathlessly exclaimed.

The Dark Lord smiled. He let a finger trace the underside of Severus’ cock, watching it get even harder. A drop of pearly liquid formed at the tip and he smeared it around the head with his thumb. He ignored Severus’ whimpers and continued his slow exploration. He gently ran his fingers across the length, enjoying the tortured groan that Severus released. He curled his fingers around Severus’ need and gently stroked it. He ignored Severus’ cries of “Faster, please!” and “Stronger, oh, stronger!”

Severus was being driven mad with pleasure. He felt a slow, building crescendo and just when he felt he’d finally reach his climax, he heard the Dark Lord whisper.

“Stuppare.”

His climax was painfully stopped. He let out a keening wail.

The Dark Lord laughed. “What do you think of my spell, Severus? It won’t let you achieve climax, no matter how much I pleasure you or how much you feel like you’re going to burst. You’ll only achieve it when I take off the spell.”

Severus whimpered and nearly fell, had the Dark Lord not been holding him. “Perhaps you should sit.” He transfigured a nearby chair to a chaise lounge with pillows and moved it over to where they were. He laid a boneless Severus on the chaise, piling the pillows behind him so Severus sat up because of the support.

The Dark Lord frowned, finding the chaise too low on the ground. He gestured to the chaise and its legs lengthened, making it taller. The chaise now reached his waist. He admired Severus spread so licentiously in front of him. He smiled as he began to arrange Severus’ position to his liking.

Sev did didn’t protest as he felt the Dark Lord arrange him. His Lord propped more pillows underneath him so his hips were elevated. Once done, the Dark Lord opened his legs. Severus, who was still looking at the mirror, felt his eyes widen when he saw just how clearly his position exposed the puckered entrance that was normally so hidden.

A sensuous voice whispered in his ear, “Do you like what you see, Severus?” In the mirror, Severus saw the Dark Lord bent over slightly behind him as he whispered in Severus’ ear. “I promise you. You’ll like even more what you see next.” The Dark Lord moved away. He came back with Severus’ own wand.

“A wand can cause so much pain, especially with Dark Wizards, but it can cause such pleasure, too,” the Dark Lord said, a look that promised lust, desire, passion and sex. He set the wand beside Severus.

He placed a chair beside Severus and sat on it. He looked at Severus intently. “I’ll sit right here so you can fully enjoy the show.”

He produced a clear vial. He unstoppered it and Severus caught the faintest scent of jasmines. The Dark Lord poured some of it on his fingers and set the vial aside. He slid his hand between Severus’ parted legs and lightly stroked one finger around his entrance. Severus sucked in a breath; his Lord smirked at him.

He slipped one finger past the tensed ring of muscle until his entire finger was inside. There was a ‘pop’ as his finger chedched the ring of muscles and Severus let out a needy moan. He wiggled his finger around relishing the velvety muscles that clenched around him. He took his finger out and returned with another finger, scissoring them to stretch the muscles. He carefully prodded around until he felt a protruding nub; he smiled and lightly scratched his fingernail across it.

Severus let out a strangled groan and his body jerked when his Lord found his prostate. From his position, he could see the Dark Lord’s fingers coming in and out of his entrance. He felt his member throb painfully. Through the haze of desire that his Lord was causing, he registered the fingers leaving. He mewled at the loss.

The Dark Lord chuckled as he addressed Severus, “Fear not, lovely, this is just the beginning.” He took Severus wand and drizzled oil on its sleek length. He held up the wand and saw Severus’ eyes widened. “I’m sure you’ve done this before, Severus. Everyone does it. There’s this wonderful allure of sliding your sleek, slender wand into your innermost places and having it drive you into new heights of pleasure.”

He positioned the wand outside Severus’ entrance and slowly slid it inside; Severus held his breath. “Admit it, Severus. This is one of the most favorable things your wand could ever do for you. Sliding it in and out of your hungry, puckered hole as your cock weeps mercilessly.” He punctuated this sentenced by slowly sliding it in and out of Seve hol hole, watching Severus claw at the chaise’s upholstery.

“Having the tip if your wand hit your sweet spot. Again and again and again.” He drove the wand to hit Severus’ prostate each time and Severus let out a strangled groan, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes back in his head. He stopped when he noticed that Severus was no longer looking at his reflection.

“Severus, look or I’ll stop,” he ordered.

Severus forced his eyes to look at his reflection. The sight of his wand sliding in and out of his hole drove him to new heights of pleasure. The Dark Lord was right; he had done this before.

When he was still a teenager dealing with adolescent urges, he would climb into his bed in the Slytherin dormitories, draw the curtains and cast silencing and locking spells. He would then shed all his clothes and drizzle oil on his wand. He’d lean on his headboard and spread his legs wide, sliding his wand into his hole, wincing at the pain but continuing. He’d drive it in with enough force to cause explosions whenever he hit his prostate. He’d moan long and loud as he fucked himself on his wand.

However, this was different. He’d never watched himself get fucked on his wand before or have someone else drive it into him. Both the thought and the sight of it were so erotic; he never wanted this moment to end. He was shaken from his thoughts when all movement stopped but he could still feel his wand inside him. He looked between his legs and saw the wand still in his hole, but the Dark Lord’s hand nowhere near it. He turned to look at his Lord with lidded eyes.

The Dark Lord took out his own wand from his constricting robes, ignoring his own need for the moment. He drizzled oil on his own wand and looked at Severus. “Have you ever had someone else’s wand touch you in your innermost places?”

Severus slowly shook his head.

The Dark Lord smiled. “Then, this will be fun.” He slid in his wand inside Severus’ entrance. He let go and just looked at the two wands that protruded from Severus’s puckered entrance like some sort of erotic version of Excalibur.

Severus stared at the two wands that were currently in him and felt himself grow hard to the point of pain. He tried to swallow as the Dark Lord took both wands in his hands and began driving them in together. He hissed and moaned as his Lord took to driving his wand in while pulling Severuand and out. He kept up this alternating pace and dug in deeper and harder with each stroke, causing Severus’ prostate to receive a thorough pounding each time. Severus began to twist and turn on the bed, clawing at the pillows behind him. And all of a sudden, the ministrations stopped.

Severus, panting harshly, looked at the Dark Lord. “My Lord…” he trailed off when he saw his Lord divest himself off his robes. He felt his already dry mouth become drier as his attention was drawn to his Lord’s cock. It was pulsing and throbbing, growing purple with suppressed need. The Dark Lord approached Severus, drizzling all that was left of the oil in the vial on his cock. He approached Severuslustlustful, possessive look in his eyes.

Severus shivered at the look in his Lord’s eyes. The Dark Lord stood in front of Severus and gently extracted the two wands, laying it beside Severus. Lord Voldemort smiled as he spread Severus legs even wider and positioned himself abSeveSeverus’ entrance.

Severus gasped at the sensation of the Dark Lord’s cock near his entrance. “My Lord,” he whimpered.

“Yes, Severus?” the Dark Lord asked, trying to control himself.

“I need you…please…now,” he all but moaned.

The Dark Lord nodded and drove himself inside in one smooth stroke. Severus let out a piercing cry as his Lord was suddenly buried hilt-deep inside him. He clenched his muscles and the Dark Lord bit his lip to stop from crying out in pleasure at the contractions Severus’ inner walls were creating. They stayed unmoving before the Dark Lord drew himself nearly all the way out before plunging harshly in again, taking care to aim for Severus’ prostate. Severus screamed and the Dark Lord set a brutal pace, driving himself in with such force that the chaise they were on rocked with the force of his thrusts.

Severus moaned in pleasure and he started to mutter incoherently, the pleasure short-circuiting his mind. “Yes. Gods. Yes! Ohhh… Faster. Harder! Yes! Please! So good! Oh… Gods!!!”

Each thrust from the Dark Lord hit his prostate dead on and when he closed his eyes, he could see stars bursting underneath his closed eyelids.

The Dark Lord drove in again and again, sweat sliding down his back and spine in rivulets. “You’re so tight, Severus. So, so tight,” he said, thrusting in even harder. “You haven’t the faintest clue how beautiful you are at this moment. Legs spread open and moaning with need. Your hole being abused by my cock. You’re a whore, Severus. Always have been and always will be,” he said, keeping control of his words even as he felt his impending release.

He timed his actions just right so as he felt himself reach his climax, he shouted, “Finite!”

Severus felt the spell that halted his release moments ago fade and that was all he needed to explode, his cock spurting copious amounts of semen all over his stomach and the chest of his Lord. His Lord’s release came simultaneously and he felt warm liquid fill his abused hole and slide down his inner thigh onto the chaise.

The Dark Lord lay slumped on him, not bothering to pull himself out of Severus just yet. His head lay on Severus’ bare chest as he drew in large breaths of air. He whispered, “Mine. My whore, and don’t ever forget it, Severus. You cannot escape from me, no matter how hard you try.”

Severus felt a solitary tear slide down his face and onto the pillow behind him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

{Granger Residence, morning after Prof. McGonagalls’ visit}

The tick-tock of a pendulum from the grandfather clock filled the early morning silence. The lights in all the surrounding houses were still shut off, only the glow of the light bulbs at the front doors illuminated the still slumbering neighborhood.

A door opened upstairs and the upstairs hallway filled partly with t ast as light from one open bedroom spilled into the corridor. Hermione emerged from the room before shutting off the light and closing the door.

Hermione walked down the stairs, checking the grandfather clock that stood in the front hallway.

‘Four-thirty in the morning. I can’t sleep anymore . Never mind, Mum and Dad will be up in…oh, three and a half hours.’

It was still dark out. Hermione sighed and made her way to the kitchen. She turned on the lights and a warm yellow glow filled the room. She walked over to the pantry and looked for something to eat. She turned around and nearly banged her head on the pots and pans that hung above the kitchen island.

Hermione scowled. “I hate this thing,” she grumbled.

She got her breakfast and sat down, thinking,

‘Maybe all that happened yesterday was a dream. Maybe none of those things really happened. Perhaps it was all a dream…a bad dream, a nightmare. Harry never cast an Unforgivable. The Ministry isn’t after him. Professor McGonagall never came over and told me that one of my best friends is a wanted fugitive.’

Hermione looked at the dark sky outside and shook her head.

‘A dream indeed. Why don’t I go back in time and think everything bad that has ever happened was nothing but a nightmare? Sirius dying. You-Know-Who coming back. Cedric dying. Professor Lupin leaving Hogwarts.The Chamber of Secrets. Everything! Maybe even Harry’s mum and dad dying. Nightmares indeed.’

Hermione choked back a sob. She curled up into the pillows surrounding her in the breakfast nook.

‘I wonder where Harry is now.’

A jumble of confusing thoughts and stray images fought for a place in her mind and she winced.

Hermione suddenly stood up and left the kitchen, walking upstairs and into her room. She took her diary and her fountain pen from its hiding place and walked back to the kitchen. After sitting back down, Hermione opened the notebook and flipped to a page a little bit past the midpoint. She picked up the fountain pen and began to write.

‘Dearest Diary,

It’s been nearly a year since I’ve last written to you. I can’t believe that I left you behind when I went to Hogwarts! I opened my trunk and realized too late that you weren’t with the rest of my things. Fifth year at Hogwarts was something else entirely.

As Charles Dickens said, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...” In our case, it was the worst of times…period.

Fifth year was a time of upheaval and a time of loss.

You see, this is what happened...\'

Hermione wrote until the sky began to change colors. From a dark, oppressive gray-blue, the light from the dawn’s rays lit up the sky in an array of uplifting shades. Shades of pink and orange washed the sky in the first tints of beauty and life. It was a melody that sang of the majesty of daybreak and the promise of a new day. Hermione noticed none of this as she sat there and continued to write.

Several minutes later, sounds of life could be heard from her parents’ room. Hermione looked up towards the stairs before shrugging her shoulders and continuing her writing.

Hermione’s mum walked downstairs, already dressed. She spotted Hermione at the breakfast nook and raised an eyebrow. She walked over to Hermione and gave her a hug; Hermione stopped writing and wrapped her arms around her mum, letting her enjoy the safety and warmth of her mother’s embrace.

They gradually let go of each other and Mrs. Granger pressed a kissed to her daughter’s forehead.

“How are you doing, dearest?” she asked, eyes narrowed in concern. She took in her daughter’s tired and defeated posture and frowned.

Hermione shrugged. “Better,” she answered, opting to tell the truth and knowing how useless it would be to lie to her mother. “I’m calmer now…but I’m still reeling from all that’s happened last night.”

Mrs. Granger kissed the top of her daughter’s head before walking to the refrigerator. “It must have been a shock to you, then? About Harry?”

Hermione sighed. “Of course. I never imagined that Harry would finally flip and do something like that. Although considering all he’s gone through the past year, it really shouldn’t be a surprise.”

“If it isn’t such a surprise, why do you look as if a train ran over you?”

Hermione closed her diary and replaced the cap of the fountain pen, pushing her things aside. “It’s just that…I don’t know how to deal with it,” Hermione said helplessly.

Mrs. Granger turned to look at Hermione and saw the desolate look in her daughter’s eyes. She stopped fixing breakfast and crossed the room to sit beside her daughter. She wrapped her arms around Hermione while the girl laid her head on her mum’s shoulder.

“If you truly love Harry as a friend, you’ll accept him…regardless of who he is or what he’s done. As they say, ‘Friendship knows no boundaries and no limitations. Friends do not judge the clothes you wear or the place you live in. They care not for the darkness of your past or for the uncertainty of your future. They care for you,’” Mrs. Granger said.

Hermione murmured, “I do accept Harry for who he is. I accept the bespectacled, clumsy boy who breaks his glasses once a month and who never learns how to repair them. I accept the frivolous student who cares more for Quidditch and fun than his studies. I accept the young man who has more layers than the eye can see or the heart can feel. I accept the young man who has an inner darkness residing in him and who fights so hard against it. I accept Harry.”

Mrs. Granger slowly rocked Hermione. “You do…but there is still something bothering you,” she pointed out.

“I don’t want to lose Harry,” Hermione whispered.

“What do you mean?” her mother asked.

“I told you about Sirius,” her mother nodded, “and his past. Harry’s practically going through the same thing. The Ministry is after him as well and if they catch him,” Hermione shuddered, “they’ll probably lock up him in Azkaban. I saw how Azkaban destroys yod I d I don’t think I could bear it if Harry was taken.”

“Am I being selfish?” she asked. “I don’t want Harry to get caught because of the chance that I’ll lose him. Because of this, I don’t want the Ministry…or the Professors to ever find him.”

Mrs. Granger frowned. “Why include the Professors in this train of thought?”

“Because despite how all-powerful everyone thinks the Headmaster is, he can’t save Harry from himself. I don’t think he’d want to, anyway,” Hermione said.

She continued, “I don’t know if what I’m saying makes any sense whatsoever but Harry doesn’t deserve to be controlled. He’s gone his entire life living in someone else’s footsteps and the Professors are just encouraging it. I think it eats up at Harry but he never says anything because he’s the ‘silent suffering’ type.” She smiled mirthlessly.

“I’m afraid to lose him but I might already have,” she whispered.

Mrs. Granger just held on to Hermione tighter. She had not understood much of what her daughter had just confessed. However, she knew that she raised her daughter well and no matter what she was facing, Hermione would get through it.

“I miss the times when you were a little girl and you’d on on my lap,” Mrs. Granger murmured. Hermione looked at her mum. “You’d tell me what was bothering you and I’d somehow be able to make things better. But now, you’re all grown up and I can’t help you that much anymore. I just want you to know that I love you and I believe in you. If anyone can help Harry get through this, you can.” She kissed the tip of her daughter’s nose; Hermione smiled.

“But first and foremost, I think you need to find out why Harry did what he did. We all have our reasons for doing things and I think it’s only fair that you understand Harry’s side,” Mrs. Granger said.

Hermione nodded as her mother released her from her embrace. “You’re right, Mum.”

Mrs. Granger smiled at Hermione and stood up. “I better get breakfast going before your Da comes down here and demands for it.”

Before her mum moved away, Hermione threw her arms around her neck and hugged her. “Mum, I know that you think you can’t sweep in to save the day for me anymore but you just did. Thanks, Mum. I’m always going to be your little girl.”

Mrs. Granger smiled and just hugged her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

{Malfoy Manor, morning after Draco’s trip to Cervello}

Draco stumbled sleepily into the private dining room. He squinted at the bright light that came in from the wide-open French doors. He grumbled as he seated himself opposite his father.

Lucius raised a silk napkin to his lips and dabbed at the corners of his lips. He raised an eyebrow at Draco’s grouchy appearance but made no comment about it, knowing that anything said this early in the morning would only be heard wrongly or forgotten.

Draco had never been a morning person. When he had still been little, Narcissa used to let him wake up on his own free time. However, as his school years neared, Lucius had felt that Draco needed to learn how to wake up on time. He had grown tired of waiting for Draco just so they could eat together for breakfast.

So on Draco’s tenth birthday, Lucius had gone to his rooms that morning to wake up his heir. Narcissa had vehemently tried to persuade Lucius not to do this but he had been stubborn. After several minutes of arguing, Narcissa had given up and thrown her hands up in frustration. She had told him not to come complaining to her when his precious heir did something. Lucius had just shaken his head and assured Narcissa nothing liket wot would happen. She had muttered something under her breath and retreated to the private dining room.

Lucius had entered his son’s room to see a shaft of sunlight cast a halo of light around his son’s golden head. He had stood there for what seemed like an eternity, mesmerized by the beauty of his child. He had walked over to his son’s bed and caressed his beautiful face.

Lucius had then come to his senses and tried to wake Draco by gently shaking him on the shoulder. When the only response he had received was Draco swatting at his hands and turning over, Lucius had shaken him a little bit harder.

When Draco had again ignored him, Lucius had tried saying his name and shaking him more roughly. Draco had growled and Lucius had smiled in return, pleased to discover how to awaken Draco. He had shaken Draco once last time and yelled in his ear. He had been quite surprised to have water flung at him.

So Lucius had stood there, sopping wet and completely shocked by the turn of events. He had then squelched his way to where Narcissa was waiting. She had raised an eyebrow at his unlikely appearance but had said nothing when Lucius glared in her direction.

From that moment on, Lucius had always sent house-elves to wake up Draco.

“Didn’t you get enough sleep, Draco?” he asked, buttering a croissant. He took a bite out of it and looked enquiringly at his son.

Draco didn’t answer. He instead glared at the house-elf that approached him, asking what sort of drink he would like. He growled, “Strawberry shake,” to the quaking creature before it popped out.

Ever since the house-elves had been instructed by Lucius to wake Draco in the mornings, they had learned the true meaning of “survival of the fittest.” The house-elves would draw lots every morning to see who would be the unfortunate elf to rouse Draco that day. Also, ever since Draco had turned a certain house-elf named Swoosh into a horseshoe during breakfast some years ago, the house-elves had learned to be careful around their young Master any time before noon.

The house-elf that had asked Draco what he would like to drink popped back in carrying a silver tray with Draco’s strawberry shake. The house-elf offered it to Draco and the young Master took it, scowling the entire time.

“Would young Master be needing anything else?” the creature timidly asked.

When Draco shook his head and waved the creature , th, the house-elf practically left the room, swooning in utmost relief and joy.

Lucius set down the croissant. “Well? You haven’t answered my question,” he pointed out. “Didn’t get enough sleep? Dreams of a certain…green-eyed vision keep you awake?” Lucius asked, trying to sound concerned and sincere, but only coming off as mildly deranged and suggestive.

“Stuff it, Father,” Draco growlingly replied. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

Lucius put on an innt ext expression. “I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re talking about, Draco. I was merely concerned.”

Draco snorted and placed a blueberry pancake on his plate, topping it off with whipped cream and blueberry syrup. He made quick work of the pancake before replying, “Concerned, my arse.”

Lucius rolled his eyes and decided to change the topic, “I’ve received a reply from my contacts in the Ministry.”

Draco looked up from where he was pouring maple syrup on his French toast. “So soon?” he asked.

“I may not be that popular at the moment but there are still people who owe me favors,” Lucius explained. “And I had to call in a lot of favors.”

Draco set down the container for the maple syrup. “Well, Father, do keep me out of suspense. What did your ‘contacts’ say?”

Lucius eyed Draco before presenting the letter he had received earlier this morning. “I truly received the shock of my life when I read the contents of this innocuous-looking piece of parchment,” Lucius began.

Draco scowled and Lucius continued.

“My contacts tell me that Potter is currently on the run because he is wanted by the Ministry,” Lucius announced, dropping the bomb on his unsuspecting son.

Draco’s jaw dropped open and it took a lot of effort to get it closed again.

“Apparently, he’s wanted by the Ministry because he’s broken the ‘no under-age magic’ rule. And not only that, he broke the rules in great aplomb…he cast the Cruciatus on his cousin,” Lucius said, dropping the second bomb of that morning.

Draco felt his jaw drop open once again. He managed to get it shut with more difficulty this time around. “So…this must be why he felt that he couldn’t run to the Weasel or Mudblood,” he mused. “As for not running to Dumbledore…I wouldn’t either, but this is the Golden Boy we’re talking about!”

Lucius nodded at Draco’s observation. “That is fairly astute of you, Draco, but there is something I don’t understand, as well,” Lucius said. “You said that you saw Harry Potter at Cervello, right?” he asked.

Draco nodded, wondering where this would be going.

“Well, in this same letter, it stated how ‘upset’ the Minister is at Dumbledore for refusing to hand Potter over to the Ministry.”

Draco put on a confused expression, “What?”

“Well, apparently, the Minister went barging over to Hogwarts to demand the location of a certain Mr. Harry Potter. Dumbledore told him tPottPotter was safe and sound within the castle walls. The Minister and Dumbledore then fought over the ‘guardianship’ of the boy in question. Naturally, Dumbledore won and Fudge stormed off in a huff,” Lucius narrated.

“I don’t understand,” Draco started. “I saw Potter in Cervello. I talked to him and even touched him! There is no way that Potter is in two places at the same time.”

Lucius nodded. “Yes, I was confused, too. After hearing your otherwise entertaining rant, I’m certain that you truly saw Potter. The only thing I didn’t understand was why Dumbledore said what he did.” Lucius paused for dramatic effect.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Oh, get on with it, Father!’

Lucius narrowed his eyes as if affronted before he continued, “That was before I started to think like Dumbledore.”

Draco shuddered. “I only hope you don’t lose all your fashion sense along with your sanity. You must refrain from offering me any bloody lemon drops.”

“Language, DracLuciLucius reminhis his son. “Anyway, I thought like the manipulative bastard he is…not the old codger he pretends to be,” Lucius clarified. “I asked myself, ‘What would I do if my prized weapon up and disappeared because he cast an Unforgivable while the Ministry hunts him down?’”

Draco just shrugged his shoulders.

“Really, Draco,” Lucius admonished, “use your brain. I would purposely tell the Ministry that the boy was with me so they would stop hunting him down – giving me the chance to find him!”

Draco’s eyes widened, “Father, you may actually be right.”

Lucius muttered under his breath, “Of course, I’m right.”

Draco ignored him. “It would be just like the scheming lunatic, now wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would,” Lucius agreed.

They sat there in silence for a while. Draco chewed thoughtfully on his forgotten French toast and settled down into his thoughts once more as he remembered all that had happened during tast ast several hours.

‘I’ve discovered my archrival in the finest courtesan establishment in all the Wizarding world. I’ve come to find out that it is my courtesan who is harboring him. I’ve come to discover that the reason why my rival is running is because he’s cast an Unforgivable on his cousin and that he can no longer trust anyone…not even his friends and his loved ones. To top it all of, I’ve realized that Harry Potter is a very delectable creature. There must be something wrong with me.’

Lucius looked over at Draco from the cup of tea he was casually sipping. He set it down and asked Draco, “Well, what do you plan on doing now?”

Draco felt his focus gradually shift back to the moment at hand. He looked at his father.

“Give him what he deserves,” he said, with an intense look in his eyes that made Lucius shiver.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucius looked at his son and he couldn’t help but feel extreme sympathy for the target of his son’s…emotions, whichever of them he might choose to show.

Unlike Draco, Lucius knew the difference between revenge and the burning desire to have someone completely. Apparently, what Draco felt for Potter was the latter; he just hadn’t realized it yet…or he did, but was denying it.

‘I wonder how long Draco can keep telling himself the desire to have Potter on his knees is only his way of revenge. Sooner or later, the need for revenge will fade…and teed eed to possess will take over.’

Malfoys were possessive creatures. It didn’t matter whether you were a Malfoy’s lover or a Malfoy’s enemy; you belonged to the Malfoys. However, what Draco felt for Potter bordered on both. This would be truly interesting.

And besides, there was no need to worry. He knew that he would never lose Draco to Potter…to Harry. Perhaps he would even gain something…or someone new to warm his bed.

Having Draco as his lover wasn’t as scandalous as Wizarding world made it out to be. He loved his son and he had only done what was requested of him; he had not forced his heir to do anything he did not want to do.

Draco had first come to Lucius when he was fourteen. It was a custom within some pureblood families to have the father take their heir’s virginity – as an introduction to pleasure, to the world, to life. It went as far back to the time of Salazar Slytherin and his heir, Salvus.

This tradition was extremely hushed-up, with fewer than twenty families exercising it. Some of the families included were the Blacks, the Zabinis, the Parkinsons, and the Lestranges. Lucius had lost his own virginity to his father all those years before. However, he had never taken his father for a lover. It happened, but rarely and that was one of the reasons he felt privileged about his continued relationship with his son.

They still had their own respective lovers, of course. That was why Draco went to Cervello all the time or why Lucius would invite his own lovers to the Manor. Afterall, Draco was his son and heir first and foremost; Lucius just cared for him beyond normal father-son boundaries. However, it’s also true that it was Draco who held his heart the way Narcissa never did.

Narcissa knew about the tradition and that was why she never said anything against it. It had been a part of her family as well. However, Lucius and Draco never told her that it extended past that first time. It wasn’t because they were afraid of her reaction; they knew she would accept what they had. Narcissa was wonderful that way. It was just…what they had was between the both of them. No one else should be privy to that.

Lucius loved Draco as a son and as a lover. It was confusing at times. He didn’t know whether to comfort Draco as a father or as a lover when he was upset. There were many times that he felt utterly conflicting emotions and it pulled him every which way. It was the same for Draco as well. There were times when he didn’t know whether he preferred his father or his lover.

One would think that the trouble and confusion all this caused would convince them to choose one relationship, either as father and son or as lovers. But as Draco said and as he agreed with, “I love you as both a father and a lover. You’ve captured my heart in both ways. I don’t think I’d survive if I lost either part of you.”

Perhaps that was where the problem lay.

He loved his heir unconditionally. He loved the little boy who threw a glass of water at him for trying to wake him up. He loved the way his son would cajole and plead into letting him play Quidditch in one of the Manor’s enormous ballrooms when it snowed too heavily outside. He loved his son’s light laughter and heartbreaking smile. He loved the son who idolized him and looked up to him.

But Lucius loved the charming, handsome young man his son had become as well. He loved the way Draco tasted on a balmy summer evening. He loved the way Draco moaned as he drove into him again and again and the way Draco arched up into him in the height of passion. He loved the way Draco fit into him perfectly as they lay unclothed in bed. He loved the lover who worshipped him with hands and mouth, body and soul.

He loved both. He loved Draco and in the end, that was all that mattered.

Lucius roused himself from his thoughts. “Should I be worried?” he asked, a suggestive look in his eyes.

Draco frowned before realizing what game his father was playing. He smiled coyly, “Father, I haven’t the faintest clue why you’d think that.”

“Well, with the way you go on and on about Potter, I’m thinking that I should be worried with the amount of attention you place on him,” Lucius said.

“There’s no need to worry, Father. Potter’s Potter,” Draco replied.

Lucius thought, ‘Oh, I know.’

“Besides, we both know who holds my heart…” Draco trailed off. He parted his lips and wet his bottom lip before working his bottom lip between his teeth. He tilted his head back and exposed his pale throat, running his hand suggestively down its length until it reached the top of his shirt. He opened the first two buttons of his shirt, exposing more of skin. All the while, he looked at Lucius with smoldering silver eyes.

Lucius felt his pants tighten to the point of discomfort. “You know, I’ve been awfully lonely ever since you started going to Cervello every night,” he said huskily.

“Why don’t we do something about that…Father,” Draco said, beckoning his father to come close.

Lucius lost no time to leave his seat and move to Draco’s. He pulled Draco up and crushed his lips against his son’s.

They kissed hungrily and passionately. Lucius crushed his son’s lithe body against his, cupping and kneading Draco’s firm buttocks. Draco moaned into the kiss and his hands wandered upwards to tangle themselves in Lucius’ silver blonde tresses. They ground their hips together, rocking and causing such delicious friction.

Draco opened his mouth and Lucius quickly took the invitation, his tongue entering the warm and moist cavern of his son’s mouth. He ran his tongue along Draco’s upper palate and teeth before dancing and twisting with Draco’s own tongue. It was not a battle for danceance but a dance of lust and hunger.

Lucius regretfully pulled his lips away from Draco when he began feeling lightheaded from lack of oxygen. “Perhaps we should continue this upstairs,” Lucius suggested.

“Definitely,” Draco answered, running a tongue over his bruised and swollen lips.

Lucius grabbed his son’s waist and lifted him. Draco instinctively wrapped his long legs around Lucius’ waist. He moaned when his arousal came into contact with Lucius’ body and he rocked himself to relieve the pressure. Lucius held Draco close and they stumbled towards Lucius’ rooms. They kissed hungrily on the way there and they ignored the whispers from the portraits of the Malfoy ancestors that lined the corridors.

They reached Lucius’ quarters and they stumbled inside. They headed past the sitting room and into Lucius’ bedroom. Lucius dropped Draco on the enormous four-poster that took up nearly an entire wall. Draco lay submissively on the bed with his eyes closed.

Lucius looked at the picture of debauchery that his son made. Silver blonde hair spread around him like a halo. Face flushed from passion. Full lips red and swollen from kisses. When Draco opened his eyes, Lucius was struck with vibrant silver eyes clouded over with lust and passion. Lucius immediately started removing his clothes, throwing them aside impatiently.

Draco sat up and removed his clothes as well. He tossed them aside and lay back once again on the bed when all his clothes were removed. He opened his legs and lightly ran his fingers over his engorged cock. He hissed and started stroking himself, raising his hips off the bed.

Once Lucius removed all his garments, he looked over to the bed and his eyes widened at the sight his eyes beheld. Draco was lying in the middle of his bed with his legs wide open. He was stroking himself and unashamedly rocking into his hand. He was so far gone that he did not even realize that his father had lain beside hntilntil Lucius placed his hand over Draco’s, stilling the movement.

“You shouldn’t be so selfish,” Lucius whispered into Draco’s ear.

Draco looked at Lucius, “I’m sorry, Fatherrhaprhaps I can make it up to you,” Draco offered. He swiftly rolled over until he was straddling Lucius. Now it was Lucius who let out a moan.

Draco slowly rocked his rips, driving Lucius mad with pleasure at the friction their two cocks rubbing together was causing. He stopped and looked at his father spread wantonly underneath him. He leaned over and kissed Lucius breathless. The protest that Lucius was about to let loose was swallowed when his son placed his lips over his.

Draco released Lucius’ lips and began nibbling on Lucius’ earlobe. Lucius closed his eyes and just lay back to enjoy the sensations wreaking havoc on his body. He smiled as his son played his body expertly. This was one of the many reasons why Draco was his best lover.

Draco ran his tongue a Luc Lucius’ exposed throat and attached his mouth to the junction between head and neck. He sucked on this sensitive area of Lucius’ neck, relishing the moans that poured forth from Lucius’ mouth.

Draco traveled down Lucius chest. He blew gently on Lucius’ nipples, watching them harden. He ran his tongue around the left nipple while tweaking the right one. He began to suckle on it, pinning his father down with his weight when Lucius began to buck. Draco moved on to the other nipple, suckling on it with an intensity that left Lucius alternately moaning and panting.

Once Draco was satisfied that he had stimulated Lucius’ nipples enough, he moved lower and ran his tongue along his father’s firm stomach. He dipped his tongue into his father’s navel and was rewarded by Lucius arching up into him. As he moved even lower, he came face-to-face with his father’s erection. He blew on it and it twitched in response. Draco smiled but ignored it and opened Lucius’ legs instead.

Lucius let out a disappointed sound but it quickly turned into a gasp when Draco began suckling on his balls. Draco lightly ran his hands up and down the inside of Lucius’ thigh, feeling them tremble slightly. Draco smiled inwardly.

Draco stopped after sometime and moved upwards his father’s body. He kissed Lucius again before going over to the nightstand. He took out the jar of lubrication and returned to where his father lay.

Lucius opened his eyes when he felt Draco near him. Draco urged Lucius to move higher up the bed and Lucius complied. He moved backwards until his back touched the headboard.

Draco sat in the middle of the bed, in full view of his father, and spread his legs. He opened the jar of lubrication and coated his fingers in it. Throwing his head back, he began to prepare himself.

Lucius stared at the wanton display in front of him and began to stroke himself.

Draco placed one finger in first, hissing at the initial burn. He soon relaxed however and added another finger. He scissored them and stretched the tight ring of muscles. He searched for a particular bundle of nerves though and moaned in pleasure when he found his prostate gland. He added another finger and began to fuck himself on his fingers. He moaned and closed his eyes, rocking onto his fingers.

Lucius watched the erotic display that was his son fucking himself on his fingers. He stopped stroking himself and called out to Draco, “Draco, perhaps you’d like to come over here.”

Through the haze of pleasure that Draco had created around himself, he registered his father’s voice. He took out his fingers and crawled over to where Lucius was. He kissed his father before straddling Lucius again. He coated his father’s enormous erection with copious amounts of lubrication; it twitched under his touch. He positioned himself over Lucius’ jutting cock and gently lowered himself on it, his legs trembling in effort and pain.

Lucius closed his eyes as he felt his son’s velvety inner walls begin to surround his aching cock. He resisted the urge to thrust upwards and tightly grasped the silk covers of his bed.

Draco bit his lip at the pain he felt but resolutely lowered himself onto his father’s erection. When he was fully sheathed, he stayed still, attempting to catch his breath. After some time, Lucius placed his hands on Draco’s hips and Draco nodded.

Draco began to raise and lower himself on Lucius’ cock, legs trembling with effort. Lucius helped him by raising and lowering him with his hands. They moved slowly at first. When Draco felt the first sparks of pleasure shoot straight to his own erection, he began to move faster. He raised himself and slammed down. He moaned loudly at the pleasure.

Lucius held Draco’s hips so tightly he knew that there would be marks. Lucius couldn’t concentrate on that, though. The only thing he could register was the slim figure riding him and the tight passage that felt so good. He thrust upwards every time Draco slammed down and pulled back when Draco raised himself, providing more force when they collided. The sound of his son’s body slapping onto his own flesh filled the room, along with the sounds of the moans, gasps, grunts and pants that issued from their mouths.

Draco rode his father as if possessed. He slammed down with such force he was sure that they both felt fireworks explode. Lucius’ cock hit his prostate every time and this persuaded him to ride his father even harder. He felt his climax coming and he moaned his warning.

Lucius understood and doubled his efforts to bring them both to climax. When he thrust upwards, he put all the strength he had into it.

Draco felt his release and he roughly clenched around Lucius, drawing a strangled moan out of his father.

Draco leaned down and captured Lucius’ lips.

Draco spurted his release all over Lucius’ chest and Lucius climaxed into the young man on top of him. Draco remained on his father, trying to come down from the post-orgasmic bliss that left his mind numb. He saw the mess he had made and he leaned over and began licking his seed off of his father’s body.

Lucius opened his to to see his son with his softened cock still inside him while Draco licked his own seed off his body. His spent cock halfheartedly twitched and he smiled in spite of himself.

Once Draco licked up all the traces of his seed, he gently raised himself off of his father’s softened cock. He winced as he felt his muscles protest. He knew that he would be feeling all of this later when he tried to stand. However, he cast all those thoughts aside and instead focused himself on the present and the silver blonde angel smiling up at him.

Lucius had gone under the covers and lifted it up for Draco, beckoning him to come forward. Draco dragged his tired body under the covers and into the warm embrace of his father. Lucius entangled their legs together and pulled their naked bodies closer to each other until their chests were touching. Lucius pulled Draco into a kiss and tasted his son.

They settled down into sated bliss in each other’s arms.

Lucius asked after some time, “Will you still go to Cervello to see Harry Potter?”

Draco drowsily nodded. “Yes, I made a promise,” he murmured.

Lucius nodded in reply and lay his head on Draco’s head. He inhaled the scent of oranges and cinnamon that was utterly Draco and closed his eyes.

‘No worries, I won’t lose him to Potter. Maybe I’ll gain another beauty for a lover. If Potter is as good as Draco in bed, I’d die a happy man,’ he thought to himself.

He smiled to himself and drifted off wthe the image of a dark-haired boy being pounded harshly into the mattress by his son and his own image stroking himself to climax nearby.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am done!!! Whoopee! *does a crazy dance and jumps around in joy* Once again, I am so very sorry that this chapter took so long. However, I’m hoping that the length of this chapter and the smut scenes more than make up for it. The next chapter shall come out as soon as possible. Haven’t the faintest clue when though. I only have a rough outline and my muses usually take me whatever point necessary, hence the sometimes long intervals between breaks. But, I’ll try to get it out quickly.

Explanations: Ron’s acting peculiar because of the “the Dark.” As said before, there’s this tiny little portion in all of us that make us want to act…well, plain mean. Most of us suppress the urge but others can’t. Ron has that Dark side controlling him now; and that’s why he acts so differently.

Sorry if Harry’s part is so short compared to everyone else. I’m going to make it longer in the next chapter. What do you think of Severus’ position among the Death Eaters? I know it’s cliché and doesn’t really follow the way we think of him but my interpretation is that J.K. doesn’t expound much on what happens Death Eater-wise, bar the annual “try-to-kill-Potter” soiree.

Also, Voldemort? My explanation in the fic about how ordinary people saw him and how the Death Eaters see him apply to my belief that there are two sides to every story. Sure, he is a deranged, manipulative madman…but how do his followers see him that they choose to follow him? What are they thinking from their point of view?

And the pairing that pretty much blew me away, Lucius and Draco. I had initially intended them NOT to be lovers; but hey, where the muses lead you… I don’t know how you guys reacted to this so…a little help?

Also, in the next chapter, Draco goes to Cervello after discovering what Harry has done. *gasps* What does he do? More importantly, what does he make Harry do?

As always, I love you all and ‘till the next chapter. Mwah! Ciao, il mio amore!