Incubus Dreams

Alright, this chapter is longer than the last, which was just filler, but needed to be written as it sets the ground work for future chapters.
I've had someone mention the Smallville thing and it not corresponding with the timeline. True, it doesn't, but I figure that with everything else that's going on, my fiddling with the timeline isn't that much of a concern.
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Harry ignored the strange and betrayed looks Hermione and Ron were shooting him. He refused to answer any questions about what and why, and he ignored the comments too. He only said that this was something he felt needed to be done, and that all things considering, finally getting along with the Malfoy heir was the least of his worries, and was, in fact, a good thing.

Malfoy managed to miss the excitement since he left after The Handshake. Other than Ron and Hermione sulking, the remaining train ride was uneventful. When the trains topped, Harry said goodbye, grabbed his trunk and got off. Almost immediately, and very surprisingly, Malfoy was at his side. Harry didn’t question it, but he thought it was the perfect time to break the holiday news.

“Hey, Malfoy?”

“Potter?”

“I don’t know if you’re already aware, but I’m spending the holidays with you.”

If Malfoy was surprised, he didn’t show it. He just looked at Harry and said, “In that case, follow me.”

So Harry Potter followed Draco Malfoy through the barrier and into King’s Cross. The event was guaranteed to start rumors immediately. Ironically, Harry was actually looking forward to hearing what the gossipmongers would come up with.

Lord Malfoy was standing as if he owned the world, completely ignoring the throngs of people, wizard and muggle alike. He gave no indication of noticing anything strange or significant at seeing his son and his bond mate walking together.

“Hello Father.”

“Draco.”

Harry hung back, not wanting to intrude on such a…prim and cold family reunion. He also had no idea what he should do, or even how he should do it. Luckily, Draco did know.

“Father, I’m sure you know Harry Potter. Harry Potter, this is my father, the Lord Malfoy.”

Harry walked forward, more than a little uncertain, and very aware of the many staring witches and wizards.

“Pleased to meet you, sir.”

Lord Malfoy inclined his head in acknowledgement.

Draco spoke up, loud enough so those near could hear, but still quiet enough to not be considered shouting.

“You’ll be pleased to know, Potter and I have decided to start anew and attempt to get along. We both realize the necessity of creating bonds of friendship in these trying times, and what better place than to start with one’s rival?”

And Harry, who was usually so slow at fathoming subtly, caught what was happening. Lucius Malfoy had managed to find a way to get the wizarding world to accept him, or start to, at least. First, he told his son about the bonding, maybe, or at least enough information to know that Harry would become a permanent staple in the Malfoy life. What better way to get mainstream approval than through the son? Whether Malfoy was truly earnest and would follow through with the offer of friendship was inconsequential, but it was the perfect disguise for why Lord Malfoy would be seen in Harry’s company. The quintessential Slytherin making friendly with the quintessential Gryffindor. Amazingly subtle and ingenious, not to mention so beautifully done that Harry was in complete awe of the blatant manipulation.

If Harry accepted the Malfoys into the very bosom of the side of Light, so too would the rest of the wizarding world. And since Malfoy…Draco, alluded to Dumbledore by mention something the headmaster said, it practically sealed the deal. What’s more, Voldemort would likely believe Lucius was slithering his way into the enemy’s camp. It was a completely Slytherin plan, and Harry was sure Salazar himself would be proud.

Harry could not decide whether to laugh or storm off and make a very nasty, very public scene. Thinking that neither option would be wise, Harry just stayed silent and let things play out.

“Most commendable, son. In that case, let us not waste time standing on a platform.” Lord Malfoy, with his customary cane in hand, led the way through a crowd of stunned witches and wizards and oblivious muggles. Harry grabbed his trunk and started after, with a signal from Draco. He briefly caught Ron and Hermione’s eyes, wincing at the look of intense betrayal on Ron’s face. He was a little relieved at Hermione’s sympathetic and understanding look.

“Why didn’t you lighten your trunk?”

Harry very nearly dropped his trunk at the sudden question from his new ‘friend.’ He shrugged and answered, “I honestly didn’t think of it.”

“That is such a Muggle way of thinking.” Draco unobtrusively whipped out his wand and Harry’s trunk was magically lighter.

“You know, for someone who expressed and interest in things Muggle, maybe you should try things the Muggle way first.”

Draco looked offended, then thoughtful.

“You may have a point.” The next thing Harry knew, his trunk got heavy, causing him to almost stumble.

“Thanks, but you could have warned me.”

A shrug and a reply of “Sorry,” was all he got.

Lord Malfoy paused and turned a stern look on the two young men. A raised eyebrow was all the communication they got, but it spoke volumes. Draco hurried along, leaving Harry to lug and tug his trunk. Finally, he stopped, completely fed up. He looked around, then muttered a few words.


The car ride was quiet and tense. The vehicle was, of course, magical in nature and much like the ministry cars Harry had ridden in three years previously. It was quick, as well as tense and quiet. So Harry became introspective. He focused on his breathing, on shoring up his magical and mental barriers. He poked at that odd feeling he’d had since that day in the Great Hall. It was dissonant, almost like poking at a sore tooth. Instinctively, Harry knew it had something to do with Lucius.

Harry went deeper, but was still completely aware of surroundings. He just drifted, enjoying the silence, floating around in his inner magical core.

Harry knew when the car stopped, he heard when Lucius left the vehicle, and he sensed Draco’s movement, reveling in the shocked gasp the young blond elicited when Harry grabbed his hand before it could reach Harry’s arms.

“Are we there yet?” Harry opened his eyes and looked into Draco’s icy grey ones.

Draco quickly composed himself and yanked his hand out of Harry’s grasp.

“Yes.” The blond gracefully got out of the car. Harry followed, not surprised when he found Lucius’ attention focused on him.

Harry’s first glance at Malfoy Manor completely stole his breath. He was reminded of his first glimpse at Hogwarts. Malfoy Manor was by not means as large as the school, but it was no less grand or awe inspiring. It was a surprisingly harmonious mixture of medieval gargoyles, Elizabethan symmetry, and gothic towers, with some Greco-Roman classic pillars and statues. It was all at once darkly fearsome, yet softly beautiful; Harry noted it was much like its owner.

A light shove against his arm brought back to the present, only to find Draco standing next to him, actually smiling. Truly smiling.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Gorgeous.”

“Right, let’s go inside.”

Harry gave Draco a speculative look, wondering at how strangely the blond was acting. He seemed supremely out of character. Deciding not to dwell on Draco’s psyche, he just followed the other inside, still completely aware of Lucius Malfoy’s eyes trained on him.

If possible, the inside was even more beautiful than the outside. The floors were marble; intricate tapestries hung on the walls; portraits of different Malfoys lined the walls; statues, plants and other expensive, yet tasteful, and art decorated the entrance hall. Harry noted that it could fit the Dursley’s house in it twice, with room to spare.

“A house elf will show you to your room, Mr. Potter, and then let you know when dinner will be served. If you have any questions, call for Mustardseed, and she will help you.”

With that, Lucius strode away, off to do something that Harry could quite bring himself to care about. Harry turned to Draco and asked one question.

“Mustardseed?”

“That house elf. Supposedly, she belonged to Shakespeare himself. Or rather, her ancestor did.”

Harry nodded and followed the small elf to his rooms. They were large, opulent and grand. They were decorated in different shades of blue and trimmed in gold. The bed was large and made of some sort of dark wood; Harry thought it might have been mahogany.


He made a move to empty his trunk, but a scandalized gasp from the quiet house elf stopped him short.

“Master Harry Potter is not to be doing that, Mustardseed is. Master Harry Potter is to ask Mustardseed if he be needing something.”

And with that, the little elf started emptying the contents of the trunk and in a flurry, put them all away. Harry watched, bemused, as he was pushed aside by the diminutive elf.

“Master Harry Potter is needing anything else?”

Harry looked at the little elf and smiled slightly.

“You can call me Harry.”

The elf looked absolutely horrified.

“Oh, I cannot not be having such freedom as to use a wizard’s given name like that.”

Harry sighed in exasperation, “Fine, but you don’t have to keep saying my full name. If you can’t bring yourself to call me just Harry, then just call me sir. I don’t want to be called Master.”

The elf thought about it, her already wrinkled face scrunching up even more. She seemed to think it a fair compromise when she smiled.

“Mustardseed is able to do that, sir.”

“In that case, I think that will be all, thank you, Mustardseed. Just let me know when dinner will be ready.”

“Of course, sir.”

The elf popped out and Harry found himself alone in a gargantuan room. He looked around and spotted a desk, all his school supplies already out and ready should he feel the urge to do any work. With a sigh, and nothing else to do, Harry decided to get his proper school work out of the way. He had a feeling that Lucius could be a hard and vicious task master and didn’t revel in the thought.

An unknown amount of time later, a soft ‘pop’ heralded the entrance of a house elf. He looked up from his charm’s essay to find Mustardseed. He smiled and was pleased when the elf returned it.

“Dinner is to be served in thirty minutes. Mustardseed and Kapper are to be making sure you is ready. Master Lord Malfoy said you are to be dressed and presentable for dinner.”

Harry made a face at that. Of course the Malfoys would dress for dinner, even though they weren’t going out or anything like that. Harry huffed and decided to go along. He’d muddle through this without making too much of a fuss. He knew it was best to pick one’s battles, and if one wasted effort and energy on the small ones, the bigger ones seemed less important. He’d give Lucius this.

“Of course. I leave myself in your capable hands.”

Harry wasn’t surprised when he saw the wardrobe of clothes, nor was he surprised when he noticed they were all his size. He watched the elves pick out black linen trousers, shiny black dress shoes, and a sapphire shirt he found was made of Egyptian cotton. The elves bought out a pitcher full of scented water, a washcloth and a basin.

After stripping Harry down to his drawers, Kapper used the cloth to wash Harry’s arms, neck, shoulders, hands, face and feet. Then Harry was instructed to step into each item of clothing held out for him. Last was a black robe, much like his school robes, only of an obviously better quality. It was soft and gossamer, and when he asked, Harry was told it was made from spiders silk.

His hair was pretty much a lost cause, so the elves mussed it so it resembled more of an organized chaos rather than what it looked like when Harry had just gotten out of bed. When they were finished, five minutes remained until dinner. Harry was led by Mustardseed to the dining room, and entered just as Lucius and Draco did the same. They, too, were dressed to the nines, something that didn’t surprise Harry in the least, most, or anything in between.

“I’m pleased you made it on time. Punctuality is a key aspect in this household, and dinner is held at half-six every evening. I see you have also dressed properly. That is also necessary if you wish to eat.”

With that, Lucius stood behind the chair situated to the right of the head of the table and pulled it out. He gave Harry a look and after the Gryffindor sat, he pushed the chair in. Harry was thrown at the display of such courteous and chivalrous manners. Harry slanted a look at Lucius and saw a flash of amusement in his eyes. Was he mocking Harry with the thoughtfulness? The dynamics of their relationship may be different then before, but that didn’t mean Lucius had to mock him. Besides, Harry felt like a bloody girl.

Dinner was a quiet affair with only the most perfunctory and succinct of questions and answers. The food, however, was absolutely delicious. It could easily rival Hogwarts’ best feast any day. Afterwards, Lucius got up and indicated that Harry and Draco should follow him.

The two youths were led to a study. Harry was surprised as its inviting warmth and welcoming. The desk and cluttered but not messy, a fire was roaring in the hearth, and cushy and comfortable looking chairs and a love seat were situated in front of the desk.

Lucius went to a cupboard and removed three glasses. In two he poured a dark liquid, and in the third went an amber liquid. He handed the two darker liquid glasses to Harry and Draco. Harry took a cautious sip and found he liked the taste. He sipped more deeply.

“Careful, Potter. That’s port and as it’s homemade, there’s no way to accurately control the alcohol content.”

Harry nodded at Draco’s warning and took smaller sips.

“I’ve brought both of you in here so we could discuss Harry’s training and education while he is here this winter. I want to know exactly what Harry knows regarding the wizarding world and the proper education of a pure-blood. That way we’ll know how much work we have cut out for us.”

Harry looked down into his glass, not exactly excited about this. Lucius and Draco would know just how lacking he was in knowledge about wizarding culture. Sure, he was at a distinct disadvantage due to living for ten years with Muggles, and that lack of education had not been remedied, so far, during his time at Hogwarts.

“I assume you don’t know how to read or write in Latin.” It wasn’t a question, but Harry felt the need to answer in any case.

“No, sir, nothing more than the spells we’ve learned at school.”

“We’ll fix that, then. As well as French, Italian, and Spanish. You’ll learn history and traditions. You’ll learn to dance properly. Your table manners aren’t a complete loss, but they could use some refining.”

Harry could feel himself paling at all the extra schooling he’d have to go through all because he was the bond mate of a Malfoy.

“You’re quiet, Potter.”

Harry looked up at Draco, not really seeing the young blond, but he answered the implied question regardless.

“I understand the need to keep up appearances and such while I’m being associated with a Malfoy, but I can’t help but feel as if I’m being penalized for a something beyond my control. And no, don’t look at me like that, I’m not whining, I’m just stating how I feel. I know that I lack the knowledge of one who grew up in the wizarding world, but I had nothing to do with that. I didn’t even know the wizarding world existed until I got my Hogwarts letter.

“I’m not making excuses, I’m just letting you know to be prepared that I may not learn everything as quickly as you’d like, Lord Malfoy. I will try my hardest. But know this, my Hogwarts education comes first, and the battle with Voldemort comes second. If this extra tutoring gets in the way of either of those things, then it will be the first to go.”

Lucius didn’t look happy, but he nodded his head in ascension. He gave a quick look to Draco that Harry wasn’t able to interpret. Harry ignored it and instead answered Lucius’ nod with a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

Draco placed his glass down on the desk and got up to leave.

“Good night, Father, Potter. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Good night, Draco.”

Harry watched the exchange, noticing how formal father and son were. It didn’t seem right to him. Even the Dursleys were more human in their interaction with one another.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, Malfoy.”

The younger Malfoy left the study and Harry was left alone with Lucius Malfoy. Suddenly, he found he very much wanted the addition of Draco.

Clearing his throat a bit, Harry spoke up.

“Have you enlightened Draco as to the true nature of our relationship? He didn’t seem particularly surprised about me spending Christmas here.”

Lucius swirled his glass, studying the amber liquid. The Incubus in him was very awake with the nearness of its mate. He hadn’t had any contact with Harry outside of letters since their meeting all that time ago. He didn’t want any interruptions from an overzealous and over protective prude of a teacher; he wanted the safety and freedom of his home to be in such close contact with Harry. The boy’s nervousness was intoxicating.

On the ride to the house, he had been blissfully drowning in Harry’s emotions when suddenly everything shut down. It wasn’t like a block was put up; it was as if Harry was just an empty shell, not feeling anything. It was very disconcerting for Lucius as well as for the Incubus. It wanted to rise up and fight whatever threat might be there to cause its mate to withdraw so deeply.

It was only when Harry had caught Draco’s hand that Lucius fully relaxed. Harry was fine, he’d just gone deep inside himself. He’d have to question the boy on that ability. It was fascinating, and potentially problematic to his Incubus.

Dinner was quiet and tense, but that wasn’t surprising. And the foray into the study was…interesting to say the least. Harry was attempting to control his feelings, which was both annoying and gratifying.

Lucius understood Harry’s concerns about the extracurricular studies he wanted to put him through.

Suddenly, Lucius seemed to realize Harry asked him a question. He took a sip of his brandy and pinned Harry with an intense gaze.

“I haven’t, yet, informed Draco of the exact nature of our relationship. I plan on doing so when it becomes more of an issue.”

Harry nodded as if he just confirmed something, and then pinned Lucius with a calculating stare.

“I want to applaud your performance at the train station today. And Draco, of course. I must say, it was most definitely worthy of a Slytherin.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow, but didn’t deny anything.

“You’ve told Draco enough, but not everything. It was a wonderful way to diffuse any questions as to why you’d be seen in my company, to ensure favorable feelings from the wizarding world, as well as to keep Voldemort off balance.”

Lucius didn’t let anything show on his face, but he was surprised that Harry had cottoned onto the plan, and done it so quickly.

“I’m sure, when the Dark Lord asks why you’d allow your son and only heir to befriend me, you’ll say something like you’re manipulating my naiveté and intrinsic nature to forgive and forget against me, lulling me into a false sense of complacency, using Draco to infiltrate the enemy’s camp, as it were. Gain my trust and exploit it against me. And I’m sure you’ll phrase it in such a way that Voldemort will come to think it was his plan all along, therefore gaining you a night without punishment, not to mention, you’ll receive praise and recognition from the Dark Lord.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes at the young Gryffindor, but didn’t say anything to either confirm or deny the boy’s suspicions. Granted, he wasn’t far off the mark with many of his observations, but Lucius was decidedly uncomfortable with the boy’s astuteness. This was nothing like the impulsive, rash Gryffindor the Dark Lord complained about; and he was nothing like the brainless clone of James Potter that Severus made him sound to be. No, he was something completely different.

Harry almost smirked. Although he had no visual indication, he knew Lucius was thrown off balance by his words. He felt amazingly accomplished. He knew it was a rare occurrence indeed to stump Lucius Malfoy. So, Harry would revel in the feeling for as long as it might last.

The smug pride radiating off of Potter annoyed Lucius, but he wouldn’t do anything about it now. He’d put the foolish Gryffindor in his place at a time least expected.

“There are some ground rules you must know of first. You may have free reign of the house with the exception of any doors that are locked. You may not enter those. The third floor of the north wing is off limits and is warded appropriately. We will begin your training tomorrow. The house elves will get you up at 7:30 A.M. They will inform you as to the normal schedules of this house. I expect you to follow the rules while you are here, Mr. Potter.”

“Is there a list of rules somewhere? I wouldn’t want to inadvertently break one.”

Lucius didn’t say anything, just continued to drink his brandy. Not long after, Harry was led back to his rooms. He was surprised to find that he felt comfortable in Lucius’ company. The thought that feeling comfortable wouldn’t be a usual occurrence was Harry’s last before going to sleep.