Incubus Dreams

I usually dislike Original Characters, so saying, there are two characters introduced in this chapter that are not Harry Potter canon characters. I would like to explain that they are not original, they are in fact, characters from two different fandoms that I enjoy. I won’t give them away, however, feel free to guess who they are and what other fandoms they are from. I’ll hint that they are both from Japanese Manga stories, both were wildly popular, and both were also turned into Television shows. That said, enjoy.


It was three days until Christmas and Harry had absolutely no idea what to get the two Malfoy men. He only had those two to worry about since he’d already gotten Ron and Hermione’s presents. Ron was going to receive a Chudley Canon’s poster, which just happened to be signed by the entire team. It was the one time Harry had felt absolutely no guilt in using his name to get something.

Hermione was going to be delighted when she opened her gift. For once, Harry didn’t get her a book. Instead he got her a set of dragon bone runes for Arithmancy. Dragon bone runes were infused with dragon magic, which helped to ensure more accurate results. Because they were made of dragon bone, they were rare and borderline illegal. Thankfully, he had also included a note of explanation from Charlie, outlining that the dragon died of natural causes, and that she had given permission in some obscure dragon way, and her body may be used to bring joy, love, learning and fulfillment to another.

Mrs. Weasley would get a muggle cookbook; Mr. Weasley would receive a calculator; Fred and George would get a whoopee cushion and Ginny would get a diary, with the sincere promise that it was not possessed. But going through the list of gifts he’d gotten others was not going to help solve the problem of what he was going to give to Lucius and Draco Malfoy.

True to his word, Draco was not antagonistic towards Harry; but they also weren’t exactly friends. It was more of an impersonal acquaintance, and Harry found that he didn’t like distance, especially after a public declaration of friendship. The thing was, the bits that he’d seen of Draco’s personality he’d found to be very likable. He was vain, but not overwhelmingly so, as Draco would portray at school. He wasn’t nearly as selfish either. He was smart, as proved when he’d helped Harry with those blasted lessons….


“Not bad, Potter. Although, this says ‘I was conquered.’ You might want to change that. Depending on whom you’re speaking with, that may not be received the way you want.”

Harry raised an eyebrow in a close approximation of the Malfoy men.

“And why do I have to learn conversational Latin, anyway? Who’s there to converse with in Latin, anyway?”

Draco finished making corrections to Harry’s paper, remarking on how few there were before he answered Harry’s questions.

“You’re learning because Father said so. And he said so because you really need to learn it. And, while you may not actually converse in Latin, the point is, you could do so. It’s a way to prove you’re better than others.”

Harry looked pained at that proclamation. “I don’t want to prove I’m better than anyone else. That would make me even more different than I already am.”

Draco looked at Harry very seriously. “Potter…Harry, you are different from everybody else. I know you don’t want to be, but until you come to terms and accept, embrace, those differences, you’ll forever be ruining yourself.

“Do you think your attempts to be just like Weasley are helping any? You’re not Ronald Weasley, so you can’t act like him. Doing so makes you stand out. In fact, I think the only times you’re really Harry Potter, are when you’re on a broom, or fighting bad guys.”

Harry processed what Draco said, and he grudgingly found that it made sense. So, instead, he sent a sly look to Draco.

“You’re father seems very intent on making me a Malfoy clone. Since I shouldn’t act like something I’m not, does that mean I can stop with the Latin?” Maybe the hopeful tone in his voice wasn’t completely feigned.

Draco pointedly pushed Harry’s Latin book and paper towards him.

“The gaining of knowledge and betterment of one’s self is always acceptable. That includes conversational Latin.”

Harry smiled ruefully and said, “I figured you’d say something like that. But I had to try.”

Draco smirked and stood up to leave. When he reached the door, he paused and turned back towards Harry.

“You are doing remarkably well, Potter, especially considering your background. If you tell anyone about that compliment, I’ll hex you six ways to Sunday.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Then I’d have to admit to doing something to warrant it.”

Draco nodded, but seemed to want to add something. After some sort of internal debate, he seemed to finally come to a decision.

“You shouldn’t be forced to learn Malfoy history unless you want to. I doubt Father would see it that way, but I will speak with him. Maybe suggest you learn the Potter family history, or maybe even the Black’s.”

Harry’s eyes lit up at that. He’d love to learn more about his father and Sirius. He turned to Draco with a beatific smile.

“Thank you.”

Without waiting for a response, Harry turned back to his Latin. After all, he still had French and Dance before he had to ready himself for dinner....


Draco never had a chance to ask his father because that evening, during dinner, Lucius was called away. Draco seemed bewildered, but the twinge from his scar told Harry exactly where the Lord Malfoy was going. That had been two days ago. The day after tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and Harry didn’t know what to get Lucius or Draco.

Harry wandered into the library. Hermione would have a mental orgasm from the sheer number of books alone, never mind the topics of said books.

An inkling of an idea started niggling in the back of Harry’s brain. As he perused the titles, the idea grew and grew. When Harry finally walked out of the library, his smile split his face in halt it was so large. He knew what to get Draco. That was how Draco found him.

“What has you so happy, Potter?”

Harry shrugged and ignored the question. “I need to make a call.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?”

“He’ll make an exception. This person likes me.”

Draco narrowed his eyes, but motioned Harry to follow him. They reached a considerably bare room, which ensured that the person receiving the call wouldn’t know it was from Malfoy Manor. Draco handed Harry the powder, but otherwise made no signs of leaving.

“Could you go to my room and bring me the black bag that’s hidden under my pillow?”

Draco looked ready to protest, most likely about having to do something a house elf should do, but stopped when he saw the look in Harry’s eyes. With a sharp nod, Draco left, his parting words, “You’ll owe me.”

Harry rolled his eyes and readied his fire call. Sticking his head into the fire, a sensation Harry never enjoyed, he called out a name, “Li.”

“Ah, Mr. Harry Potter. What warrants such a visit, especially this late?”

Harry smiled ruefully at the man. It was someone he’d met in a dark alley in Hogsmeade. He was a foreigner from the Far East. He was mysterious and dark and, if possible, snarkier than Snape.

“I require a book. That one you were talking about in your last letter, in fact.”

Li made a surprised, but pleased sounding hum.

“I did not think you would be interested in it. What made you change your mind?”

Harry hesitated only a second before telling. Li was powerful, but in a different and obscure way Harry didn’t understand. He seemed far more ancient than anyone Harry knew, Dumbledore included.

“It is to be a gift for an individual who could appreciate and understand it far better than I ever could.”

Even though Harry’s head was in the fire and Li was cloaked in darkness, he had the feeling Li was looking through him, into him. It was similar to what Dumbledore could, only more intense, more invasive.

Li nodded his head and answered, “I require something in return.”

Harry hid his smile. “Of course, I would have been surprised otherwise.”

Right then, Draco came back with the little black pouch Harry wanted.

“This had better be worth it, Potter.”

Harry just smirked and took the pouch.

“Alright, Li, tell me the price.”

Li’s accented voice carried into the room, causing Draco to narrow his eyes.

“Mr. Harry Potter, all I ask is for a memory of yours, locked in a single drop of your blood.”

Draco gasped in surprise, but Harry ignored it. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. The giving of blood was an intimate, serious and sacred thing. The ritual Voldemort had performed and his mother’s sacrifice proved that. But adding a memory to it—first off, he didn’t know how that would work, and he had no idea why Li would need or want it.

“I don’t suppose you’d tell me why, would you?”

An amused chuckle and a noise in the negative was his answer.

Harry nodded and thought about it. In instances like this, he relied on his instincts. They wouldn’t lead him astray, so long as he kept his brain out of it long enough to be sure. No warning bells were ringing and nothing seemed off.

“I agree.”

“Harry, no!”

Harry turned to Draco, shocked to see what appeared to be fear on the blonde’s face. The use of his given name proved just how fearful Draco was.

“Draco.” There was only a bit of a warning in Harry’s tone.

“No, Harry. You shouldn’t give your blood. He could use it in some sort of Dark Ritual. Nothing good could come from this.”

Harry was touched by Draco’s concern. Could it be that his offer of friendship was true?

“I know, believe me, I know. But Draco, please let me do this. It’s important.”

“When Father finds out, Potter…”

Draco left the threat hanging, really not needing to finish it.

“He won’t find out from you, will he Malfoy?
When he finds out, it will be from me.”

Draco’s surprise at hearing Harry say he’d let Lucius know effectively shut him up. Harry turned back to the fire, thanking Li for his patience.

“Tell me how to infuse a drop of my blood with a memory. And is there any particular memory you want?”

“There is a short spell you need to chant while you gather the drop, and you must continue chanting it while picking the memory. And, I’d like it to be a good and pleasant memory. You’ll pluck it out of your brain like you would for a penseive.”

Harry nodded and listened to the spell, which was very short and simple. Then he rummaged through his memory for a pleasant one, discarding one after the other before settling on one. With a smile, he took the bag and took out a small, sharp knife as well as a bottle filled with liquid.

He pricked his finger and dropped one drop of blood in it. He and Draco watched as it instantly hardened.

“It looks like a ruby. How?”

Harry just winked and smiled, and infused the memory. He closed the lid and concentrated very carefully. The liquid bubbled for a moment before it stopped. Harry heaved a heavy sigh and smiled in pleasure.

“Here you are, Li. Do good things with it. I’ll expect the package to be delivered by tomorrow afternoon, no later than 2:30. And please, discretion is advised.”

“Of course, Mr. Harry Potter. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Li, and I apologize for the lateness of the call.”

Li’s voice faded with a slight echo. “Any time Mr. Harry Potter, anytime.”

Harry put the knife away after cleaning it, and closed the bag. Then he healed his finger of the small knick.

“You’re mental, you know that, right? I mean, you give out your blood, wonky in and of itself, but you do it through the fire to a veritable stranger. And you don’t think it’s a big deal? What could be so important that you would do that?”

Harry took a deep breath and looked at Draco.

“I’m aware of the risks, more fully aware than you know. But you have to trust that I believe the risks to be acceptable. This is important to me, Draco. Please, let it be.”

Draco didn’t look pleased and was very clear about it. “Fine, but I want to be there when you tell Father.”

Harry sighed, then nodded, not welcoming the moment when he’d tell Lord Malfoy about the call.

“Tomorrow, when the package is delivered, I’ll tell your father, I promise.”

“I suppose I should be glad he only asked for blood. It could have been worse, you know.”

Harry stood up and walked to the door. “How so?”

“He could have asked for semen.”

Harry made a face of pure disgust. “Never would have happened. I was not going to wank with you in the room and definitely not while on a fire call. You, Malfoy, are sick and twisted.”

Harry opened the door and was almost out of the room when Draco stopped him.

“What was the memory?”

Harry debated telling, but eventually decided he could do so.

“The first time Molly Weasley hugged me.”
Harry immediately left the room.

The next morning, Harry was awakened by a house elf squeaking that he had to get up; Lord Malfoy wanted to see him. Harry grumbled but got up, watching in bemusement as the elf—Mustardseed, got his clothes ready.

These clothes fit and were very well-made. Of course, they would have to be, seeing as how the Malfoys’ own tailor made them. The thing was, Harry felt the trousers were too dressy and stiff for his tastes. The shirts were fine and weren’t all silk, as he’d first feared. Most were button down, but all were collared.

When Harry was deemed ready, he made his way to the study, the same one he had been in the first night he arrived. He felt like a student sent to see the principal, which was absurd as he’d done nothing wrong. Except, of course, make a fire call and give his blood away. But still, he shouldn’t feel as if he was caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. The point of his coming to Malfoy manor was to get to know Lucius. That would have been easier if Lucius was actually present; and if he’d stop handing out assignments like some overly eager teacher.

Harry reached the study and had a short fantasy about barging in, then slouching down in one of the chairs and placing his feet on the desk. The remembrance of the fact that it was Lucius Malfoy he was going to see curbed any such notions.

So, Harry knocked and entered after receiving permission. He walked in, not really surprised to see Draco, but truly surprised to see Snape. His reaction must have shown on his face, because the dour man grinned nastily. Harry ignored him. He looked around and noticed there were no seats left, so he took out his wand and drew himself a chair. He’d seen the headmaster do it and set out to learn how to do it himself. Unfortunately, Harry was no artist, so it was a simple chair, though a serviceable one. Harry decided he liked it.

Only after sitting down did he give his full attention to the three other occupants of the room. Draco looked amused, Snape most definitely wasn’t, and Lucius, well, there was no telling what he was feeling or thinking.

“Your studies seem to be going well. According to Draco, you’ve picked up the languages easily enough, even if you despair at having to learn them. You’re dancing is sketchy, as you’ve no coordination, and you’ve not even begun to learn the Malfoy family history.”

Harry didn’t say anything, but he did slant a look towards Draco.

“About that, Father. Harry understands how important the history of one’s own family is, therefore, I suggest that before undertaking the learning of the Sly and Cunning House of Malfoy, perhaps he should learn about the Strong and Good House of Potter, and the Proud House of Black. How can he fully appreciate someone else’s history when he doesn’t even fully know his own?”

Harry didn’t say anything; he just looked levelly at Lucius, hoping his expression gave nothing away.

“Very well. He may learn the histories of the Potters’ and the Blacks’, but during the summer, he will learn the Malfoy history. Is that acceptable, Mr. Potter?”

Harry was vaguely surprised at the inquiry, but nodded nonetheless.

“Good. Next order of business, would you care to explain your fire call last evening, Mr. Potter?”

Harry tried not to squirm at the air of expectancy in the question, or at the looks Lucius and Snape gave him. The only consolation he got was that Draco looked as uncomfortable as Harry felt. Harry didn’t say anything; instead he waited for Lucius to further expand his question.

“I am aware of all fire calls made in this house. A list is provided every time one is made. I don’t recognize the name or address, however. Explain.”

When Harry didn’t say anything, Lucius sighed.

“If you don’t wish to tell me, so be it. As of today, all of your fire calls will be monitored by me. They will not last more than fifteen minutes and must be made before 7:00 P.M., and I have to approve whomever you call.”

Harry nodded and took morbid satisfaction when his easy acquiescence seemed to annoy Lucius. A sudden POP! surprised everyone in the room, though only Draco and Harry jumped.

“Mustardseed is sorry, Master Lord Malfoy, but Mr. Harry Potter sir is received a package from the fire.”

Harry looked at Draco, then at Lucius and Snape. Snape’s eyes were glinting in a very uncomfortable manner.

“Bring it to me.”

Harry tensed, only to marginally relax when he saw Li had wrapped the package in plain brown wrapping. Lucius took the package and inspected it thoroughly without actually opening it. Lucius frowned when he found he couldn’t open it. He looked at Harry. He demanded, “Open it, Mr. Potter.”

Harry’s jaw tightened and he bit out, “No!”

Lucius’ eyes turned a tempestuous grey, though his face showed no difference, and when he spoke, his voice was very calm and controlled. He stood up and walked to Harry, causing the young man to tilt his head back. He gulped when Lucius’ hand wrapped itself around his neck, much like he did at the school. The only thing that stopped Harry from fleeing was the fact that Lucius’ hand was gentle, and that his thumb unconscious rubbed against Harry’s pulse.

“That was not a request, Mr. Potter.”

“It’s Draco’s Christmas present.” Harry’s voice was sullen, revealing just how much he didn’t want to reveal.

Draco sat up and looked angrily at Harry, causing the young Gryffindor to wince, guessing what was coming. He really wanted to get away from Lucius.

“You paid for my Christmas gift in blood?”

Harry groaned and wrenched himself away from Lucius. He suspected that the only reason he was able to get out of the hold was because of the older man’s surprise at the announcement.

“I would have thought that, even you, Mr. Potter, would possess a modicum of sense to know how idiotic it would be to give one’s blood to someone else. It appears I was wrong. You deserve whatever will undoubtedly happen to you because of your actions.”

Harry glared at his professor, sick and tired of the insults and put downs, and fed up with people’s lack of faith in him. He was better than what everyone gave him credit for. His anger spurred his words, regardless of whom they were directed at.

“Give me a break, Snape. Believe it or not, I know the risks and dangers of giving my blood.” Here he looked pointedly at Lucius before continuing. “I put an unbreakable charm on the bottle, along with a nifty little spell that ensures no harm comes to me.”

At everyone’s continued stares, Harry let a self-satisfied smirk slide across his face.

“If someone’s intent is to cause me harm, the bottle and blood inside will explode, hopefully harming whoever wished to hurt me. If, however, the person’s intentions aren’t malicious towards me, in any way, shape, or form, then he can open the bottle.”

Harry made sure his next glare included everyone, making sure they all knew he was unhappy, and they all knew the import of his next words.

“Furthermore, I happen to trust Li, if not completely, enough to know he wouldn’t hurt me. Which is more than I can say for the occupants of this room.”

Harry went back to his chair and sat down, crossed his arms and with his eyes, dared anyone to contradict him.


Lucius watched Harry, amazed at the feelings pouring off the boy. The Incubus practically purred in contentment. After the fast it had been forced to endure for the past few days, Harry was a banquet spread out for its enjoyment.

He despaired of the boy’s seeming lack of self-preservations, especially over a Christmas present. But he had to admit, he was impressed with Harry’s sense to protect the container of blood. It was sly and underhanded, both qualities Lucius whole-heartedly approved of. Lucius could also admit, if only to himself, that the flush of anger and defiance on Harry’s cheeks was very becoming, especially when paired with the electrical sparking green of his eyes.

Lucius decided to ignore the proclamation of the lack of trust Harry had in him, chiefly since his Incubus didn’t like that thought. Its mate was supposed to feel safest in its presence.

“What item could possibly be worth your blood?” Lucius made sure to keep his question gentle instead of demanding. He knew that right then that Harry couldn’t be forced to corporate.

“A gift for someone I consider a friend.” The words were muttered and barely audible, but everyone heard them.

Harry stubbornly refused to look anywhere but at his own lap. Lucius noticed the look of complete surprise on his son’s face, as well as noticing how it turned into a pleased smile.

“Mr. Potter, we are going in circles. What gift did you…buy?”

“No, Snape, I’m not telling anyone what the gift is while Draco is in the room. When he leaves, then I might tell you, but until then, you’ll just have to deal.”

Snape stood up and made to reach for Harry, but Lucius made a warning sound in the back of his throat. He’d still not fed properly, but just being in Harry’s presence calmed the Incubus. However, with a threat towards its mate, it could not be easily placated.

“Draco, leave.” The command in Lucius’ voice would have made even the Dark Lord feel compelled to obey; Draco never stood a chance. He immediately got up and left the room, giving a last, sympathetic glace to Harry.

“Now, Mr. Potter, you will open the gift.”

Harry turned mutinous eyes on Lucius, clearly not intending to open the package.

“On two conditions.”

Lucius only raised an eyebrow in response, but he was internally curious to know what the conditions would be. It seemed that young Harry Potter was a lesson in contradictions.

“My name is Harry. And that goes for you too, Snape. For as long as you two call me Mr. Potter, I’ll either be a reminder of my father,” here he looked at Severus— “or some separate, impersonal being who isn’t truly real. If you continue to disassociate yourself from me, how can you possibly hope to fully and completely finish the bonding you started weeks ago?”

Lucius was surprised enough that Harry knew about the bond that he let it show before he hastily his behind his mask. He fumed at Harry’s knowing smirk. But Lucius knew the boy wasn’t going to reveal how he knew without being asked, just like Harry knew Lucius wasn’t going to ask. Instead, he focused on the condition.

“Of course.” He had no intention of offering the same liberty for Harry to use his given name. It seemed Harry recognized this, also. His smirk got bigger.

“Professor, I don’t expect you to actually call me Harry, but just know you can. The past belongs in the past, and if you’re not willing to leave it there and learn from it, you’ll never really move forward and truly live.”

“How dare you—” Lucius had his wand pointed at his long time friend before he even realized he’d moved. Severus looked shocked, but no more so than Lucius felt. Harry, for his part, just froze.

“Harry, stop antagonizing Severus. While understandable, it is childish and unbecoming. And Severus, you will not do anything to harm Harry. Especially not when he’s right. Now, I suggest we hear Harry’s second condition before we can open that package.”

When all three were once again seated, Lucius realized that he couldn’t sense Harry’s feelings anymore. Just like that time at Hogwarts, the boy had managed to completely block the Incubus. He’d have to figure out how the infuriating Gryffindor managed to do it.

“Why do you want to open the package? You’ll see it on Christmas along with Draco, so why not wait until then?”

“Is that the second condition? To answer the questions?” Harry nodded.

“I won’t let anything in my house that could harm my child. If your gift is in anyway harmful towards Draco, I will find a way to destroy it. Then, I will deal with you.”

Harry smiled at the answer, a response which confused Lucius. Why was the boy smiling? What possible reason could there be for it? He hadn’t said anything any halfway decent parent wouldn’t have.

“Then you may open the package.”

Lucius gave Harry a very droll look. “If I had been able to do it beforehand, I would have. That is why I asked you to open it.”

Harry frowned and looked intently at the plain brown package. His frown became more confused before it blossomed into an amused and pleased smile.

“Li put a protection spell on the package that allows no one but me to open it.” So saying, Harry got up and reached for the parcel. Lucius watched avidly, his Incubus wanting nothing more than to touch, to feel, to claim, to own, to feed now that its mate was so near, and of his own accord.

A book. Harry had gotten Draco a book? There was a whole library full of books; books that were written in different languages, big books, small books, dark books and light books. Some weren’t even books, but scrolls. What possible reason could Harry have had for getting Draco a book?

“Look closer, Lord Malfoy.” Lucius’ gaze shot to Harry, wondering how the boy had known what he was thinking, but decided to ignore the question and, instead, do as Harry instructed. He looked at the book. It looked different than any he’d seen before.

“The book is bound in chimera skin, which means, it damn near indestructible. It is very old and protected by Chinese dragon magic, further strengthening it. It is supposedly a book of Hoc Toa, containing a whole range of ancient Chinese spells; some thought to be lost. The magic outlined in this book is different from any that we’re taught at Hogwarts. As there are also potions in that book, I thought Draco might like it.”

Harry finished off a little insecurely, but Lucius didn’t notice. He was looking at the book. He’d heard of it, but it was rumored to have been destroyed, or a myth. It was full of dark magics, folk magics, as well as all other manner of magics. That fact that Harry had found one…it was unbelievable. It was a book he’d wanted for his own collection.

A Chinese dragon was on the front, exquisite and detailed enough to look real. Its eyes seemed to actually see Lucius. He believed the book was somehow alive; it fairly hummed in his hands. He looked up at Harry, seeing the embarrassed flush on the boy’s face, the hunch of his shoulders, and the expectation that the gift would be rejected.

“I think Draco will love the book.”

Harry smiled at that, but was uncomfortable receiving praise or comfort from Lucius, especially in front of Snape. Speaking of…

“Why’s Snape here?”

Harry’s sudden question caused two sets of eyes to focus on him, both similar in their intensity, but different in their coloring.

“What concern is it of yours who I invite into my house, Harry?”

Lucius watched Harry shrug in an unconcerned manner, as if he didn’t care one way or the other if his question was answered. Lucius was starting to get frustrated. At times, it seemed as if Harry was the epitome of a Gryffindor—brave, reckless and free with his emotions. At other times, the boy was proud, secretive, sly and manipulative, with a tightly held leash on his emotions.

The Harry Potter about whom he’d heard from Severus was self-centered and sneaky, but possessing no brain. From the Dark Lord, he’d heard that Harry Potter was lucky and a growing inconvenience, and according to Draco, Harry always got preferential treatment. Lucius was beginning to believe Harry was all of those things, but only because that’s what he projected; what he knew people wanted to see.

“Fine, don’t tell me about the Death Eater gathering. I’m sure I’ll find out in any case, sooner or later.” It was such a non-sequitor that it confused Lucius.

Severus was glaring at the boy, but he also seemed resigned about something. Lucius just wanted to know how the boy knew about the meeting.

“If you have nothing further to say, may I be excused? I have more Latin to do and I’d like to rewrap Draco’s present.”

Lucius almost denied the boy permission to leave, but that would have been petty, and besides, it would mainly be the Incubus’ desire. He wasn’t going to give in to it.

“I will see you at dinner. We shall see how well you’ve remembered proper table etiquette.”

“Please, Lucius, his best friend is Ronald Weasley. How high do you think Potter places table manners on his list of important things?”

If Severus’ goal was to get a rise out of Harry, he was doomed to disappointment. Harry turned a bored face to his professor, though his eyes were glittering strangely, mesmerizing Lucius. He felt a strange twinge, a feeling he couldn’t quite explain. The closest he could come was that something seemed to click into place. He just didn’t know what.

Lucius studied Harry and realized the boy was unnaturally still, and was concentrating unusually intensely on his breathing. An undignified yelp from Severus jerked Lucius’ attention away from Harry, but not before he saw the ghost of a smile cross Harry’s face.

Lucius looked at Severus and had to suppress his own smile. The dour man was standing up, rubbing his bum and glaring daggers at Harry. Apparently, the boy goosed Severus, not that Lucius blamed him. Severus had asked for it by insulting the Weasley boy.

With one last look and a smirk towards Lucius, Harry grabbed the book and left the study. For the first time since Harry had come to the manor, Lucius relaxed.

“How did you sleep last night, Severus?”

The man turned his glare towards Lucius at his jovial tone.

“The same as I usually am after attending a gathering.”

Lucius nodded at the non-answer that answered everything. Lucius had trouble sleeping after the gatherings. More so now, since learning Harry was the Incubus’ mate than before. It was difficult to even pretend to serve a creature whose sole intent was to murder someone who, on an instinctual level, Lucius recognized as mate. It made his life very complicated.

“What do you think of Harry’s gift to Draco?”

Lucius waited patiently for the answer. He didn’t really know how he felt; and the feelings he did recognize, he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I’m surprised Potter would get such a gift for someone who, until a week ago, he loathed. That book is beyond priceless, yet the boy managed to get it for nothing more than a drop of blood--a payment that would turn the stomach of any decent wizard. Harry Potter willingly gave it.”

“But he took precautions against the potentially harmful misuse of his blood.” Lucius decided to play devil’s advocate to Severus.

Severus waved away the point, saying, “That just goes to prove his over-confident tendencies. That boy needs to learn the definition of self-preservation.”

Lucius didn’t immediately say anything, but he did find it ironic that Severus should call upon Harry’s lack of self-preservation when Severus, himself, often ran directly into danger. Sometimes Severus showed very Gryffindor-ish tendencies, an occurrence that greatly amused, and greatly worried Lucius.

“How do you think Draco will respond to the gift?”

“I loathe to admit it, but I believe that Draco will consider Potter a friend for real, as opposed to just for show, now.”

Lucius bit back a laugh, knowing to do so would just further anger his friend. Lucius got up and walked to his liquor cabinet, passing behind Severus on the way. He let his hand trail through the man’s long hair, and across the back of Severus’ neck, delighting in the responding shivers. Lucius grinned at the look Severus sent him, at the heat and lust contained in that onyx gaze.


Harry spent the rest of the day wondering what to get Lucius. The man was rich enough to get himself anything, so what was left for Harry to give him?

During his ponderings, Harry didn’t notice where he was going. It was so simple to lose one’s way in the manor, and Harry did just that. When he finally became aware of his surroundings, he realized that he’d wandered into a very unfamiliar area. It looked distinctly feminine.

The walls were a soft, calming butter yellow with sky blue trim. The hall led to three doors. Harry couldn’t open the first one, not could he open the second door. Therefore, he turned to the third and caught wind of an enticing scent. It smelled of pina coladas. Harry didn’t know anyone was living in this part of the house.

Harry reached out to the third door, and shivered as he felt something pass through him, recognize him. Harry stepped inside the room and was immediately enveloped in comfortable warmth. It was the same kind of warmth Harry attributed to Mrs. Weasley; it was something maternal.

The room was distinctly feminine without being frilly. The colors were soft and calming: rose pinks, sky blues, and sea greens. There wasn’t an overabundance of flowers or knick-knacks. The room gave off the air of being welcoming and inviting.

A soft tinkling laugh sounded, catching Harry’s attention. He craned his neck, looking for the sound, but he didn’t see anyone.

“Hello, is anyone there?”

The laugh sounded again, and Harry spun to face the direction it came from. He didn’t see anyone, but he found himself facing the portrait of a beautiful woman. Her eyes were piercing baby blue; her face a healthy cream color with a very becoming blush on her cheeks. Her hair was as golden as the sun. Harry stood speechless before the portrait.

“Are you going to stare at me all day, or are you going to introduce yourself?” Her voice was light and clear with a hint of amused teasing.

“Harry Potter.” Harry’s response was automatic; he was so stunned that such an ethereally beautiful creature was addressing him.

“Well, Harry Potter, what brings you to my rooms? It’s been ages since anyone has entered here.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to intrude.” The woman started laughing before Harry even finished speaking. Harry couldn’t find it in him to be anything but cheerful, even if the woman in the portrait was laughing at him.

“Oh, Harry Potter, if I hadn’t wanted you in here, I wouldn’t have allowed you in. Now, why don’t you tell me what you are doing here?”

Harry shyly looked down and mumbled, “I wasn’t paying attention and I got lost.”

“You are precious. Well, don’t worry, Harry, I’m glad for your company. My childe never bothers to visit me any longer.”

Harry must have looked as confused as he felt, because the woman laughed and answered the unasked question.

“Lucius. Surely you know of him as you are in his house.” It was a statement, not a question.

Harry smiled ruefully and answered, “I know him.”

“I sense a story there. Sit down and make yourself comfortable, and tell me all about it.”

Harry looked at the woman, not really seeing that much of a Malfoy resemblance. He was amused, and more than a little, worried at how similar the woman was to Molly Weasley. Both were maternal, sweet, and caring. Harry liked the woman in the portrait, but couldn’t quite reconcile the fact that this woman was related to Lucius. It boggled the mind.

“What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you, or rather, thinking of you, as the Lady in the Portrait.”

“Selene.”

“All right, Selene. Here’s the story of how I know Lucius.”

For an indeterminate amount of time, Harry told Selene of his history with Lucius. He told her about his second year and Dobby and found out that Dobby used to belong to Selene. He told her of his fourth year, but was very vague about his fifth year’s meeting with the man. Finally, he told her about the past few months and the public outing of Lucius as an Incubus and the subsequent discovery as his mate. The retelling of most of the story didn’t hurt as much, and he thought that it had much to do with Selene.

Selene was alternately laughing merrily, scowling angrily, or frowning sadly.

“Much of what you have said is news to me, Harry, but not surprising. I am sorry my childe was involved in many of the events that caused you such pain.”

Harry nodded, but straightened when a thought came to him. He wondered why he’d never thought of it before.

“What’s going through that head of yours?”

“Well, my being an Incubus’ mate isn’t something that occurs overnight, right? So why are we just finding out about it?”

Selene looked thoughtful for a second before answering, “This is mainly guesswork, but I conjecture that your bond to the Dark Lord overrode the bond between you and the Incubus. Only when you became strong enough to control or block the link to the Dark Lord was the bond to Lucius able to reassert itself.”

Harry nodded, thinking that answer made sense. However, his stomach rumbling caused the young man to blush.

Selene and said, “Why don’t you go eat, Harry Potter. I’ll always be here, come back and talk with me soon.”

“I will, I promise.”

Harry turned to leave, feeling vary buoyant and happy. He had just reached the door when he remembered why he’d been wandering in the first place. He turned back to the painting.

“Do you have any idea what I should get Lucius for Christmas?”

Selene looked thoughtful for a few moments before looking sadly at Harry.

“I have not seen my childe in years. I’m afraid I don’t know him as I once did. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, but you are his mate, you’ll know what to get him. Just trust yourself.”

“Thank you, Selene.”

“Good day, Harry.”

Harry turned and left the room, feeling like he’d left a mother’s embrace.


If anyone notices the spelling on childe, you'll figure it out in the next chapter.