SCENE #A private dressing room

“Something special for the boy. For school.”

Lucius Malfoy’s voice was a dark purr to Harry’s senses, pulling his head, shoulders, and then feet to the hidden room of Madame Malkin’s shop. He had never heard a voice quite so silky and yet powerful. Surely that was what a true wizard sounded like. Dark, smooth, with a hint of something smoky that made Harry’s skin tingle. Wetting his lips, he crept to the edge of the ajar door, peeking his gaze ever so cautiously into the gap.

The room was different than the one he had just been measured for robes in. It was a private dressing room, a set of mirrors side by side, curled inward to display the half dressed man standing with perfect grace and ease in the center. Harry was caught by the startlingness of his skin. Pale, alabaster flesh nearly glowing light from within, the softest hint of rose touching the man’s cheeks, lips and nipples as he pulled a shirt from his muscular form.

“Quidditch robes are in fashion. We could create something that would match his favorite team.” It was Madame Malkin, unseen by the tall dividers placed in the room for privacy. Harry realized he must be standing in the entrance for the customer and bit his lip. He shouldn’t be there.

“That is an interesting idea. I believe Draco would enjoy such a gift.”

Silk. His voice was like dark silk even though the man looked very much like cool stone. A living statue; strong, poised with devastatingly handsome features. Harry knew he should leave, that it was rude to stare when someone did not know you were staring. Maybe even when they did. But the man was beautiful and he could not look away. Furthermore, he did not want to look away.

Harry had only been to a museum once, a class trip that had cost so little the Dursleys had managed not to refuse. There had been works of art all around him; varied, unique and made to be stared at. This man was one of those works of art and Harry could not feel bad if he stared. The man was supposed to be stared at. Whatever creator had sculpted him out of flesh had known as much. It would be rude not to stare. It would be rude to not wish to touch and see up close every perfect line and plane of the man’s body.

Harry blinked, darkness taking the view away for an instant only to return the same beautiful sight but now with pants slowly being pushed down long, muscular legs. He held his breath, the door creaking slightly when his shoulder pressed forward. The man’s head was bent, long silky white-blond hair hiding his face.

“I believe you’re going to have to ask my son,” the man murmured. Harry had not heard the question the witch asked, all his senses keyed in on the blond man before him. But he did notice her high heels clicking as she walked away, along with the sound of a door shutting closed. The man straightened, stepping out of his slacks and folding them neatly. He was only wearing briefs now, the thin fabric clinging to ever hard muscle of his ass and upper thigh. Harry swallowed hard, the door creaking again as he tried to breathe quietly.

“Has anyone ever told you it’s impolite to stare?” The man’s voice was so soothing, it took Harry a long moment to understand that he was being addressed. Gasping, he tripped forward, grabbing the door handle to keep from falling.

“S-Sorry,” Harry whispered, struggling to get to his feet. The man didn’t turn, just watched him through the mirror, gray eyes narrowed calculatingly. How long had he been staring back? Harry wondered breathlessly.

“Do you work around here?” The man asked, placing his folded slacks over the side of the partition.

“Work?” Harry finally managed to pull himself up to his feet, leaning against the closed door, his cheeks bright red. “I d-don’t work, Sir. I’m just a kid.”

“Are you sure?” Lucius asked, intense eyes touching him through the glass, holding Harry frozen in place. “Maybe around Knockturn Alley… or out of a building on Flower Circle? You look like someone I’ve seen on Flower.”

Harry shook his head, wishing his heart would stop pounding. The man’s muscles were even nicer when in the same room, his shoulder’s broad and back wide, rippling every time he moved his arms. Harry’s eyes were inadvertently drawn down to the swell of the blond’s buttocks, firm and tense beneath black briefs. The color made the man’s skin look even brighter, even more pale and otherworldly.

The man’s expression suggested he thought Harry was lying, as if he were intentionally being difficult just to amuse him. “Alright then,” Lucius said silkily, “Pray tell, why are you standing in my dressing room, then?”

Harry blushed, biting his lip and ducking his head. “S-Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that… You just…” Harry was feeling very dizzy all of a sudden, his body hot under the man’s searing gaze. “It was like… being at the museum,” he whispered, blushing further.

“Museum?” The man raised a brow, a slight frown tugging at his lips. “Is that your way of calling me ancient?”

Harry blinked, scratching the back of his head. “No… y-you’re like marble… Beautiful… er… that is…” He swallowed, toeing his shoe, wishing he could just shut up already. The man was staring at him, he could feel it. Slight shivers ran through him from the weight of his gaze.

“Do you do this a lot?” Lucius asked after a long pause. “Spy on men you think are beautiful?”

Harry shook his head again, wishing the floor would swallow him up. But then he wouldn’t be able to hear the man’s voice, so low and purring. Or see him… Harry’s eyes drifted over, watching as Lucius reached up for one of the robes Madame Malkin left for him. The man’s muscles flexed, his body stretching longer. Harry gasped, realizing he was being watched even then. He ducked his head back down, his face completely red.

“What’s your name?” Lucius’s hands brushed over the silky material of the robe.

“Harry,” he mumbled.

“Harry, would you kindly help me? Since you have insisted on gracing my dressing room.”

Harry glanced up, mouth gaping slightly. The handsome man was smirking at him, teasing even. “S-Sure,” he said too eagerly. “What do I have to do?”

Lucius held the robe out, Harry hesitantly stepping across the expanse of carpet to take it. He was even nicer looking up close, soft golden body hair faint on his arms and legs, light bristle on his jaw, silver eyes almost blue and piercing. Harry gulped, trying to ignore how he could feel the heat roiling off the man’s bare skin so very close to his own.

The robe was silky smooth in his hands, and Harry paused, bringing it up to his face. “It’s very soft,” he whispered, pressing it against his cheek and smiling. “It must be nice to wear clothes like this every day.”

“It is,” Lucius agreed, watching him through the mirror even though he was right next to him. “I’m surprised you don’t wear such clothing.”

Harry glanced up, eyes wide as he realized what he was doing to the robe. The man didn’t seem upset by his rudeness. “I, uh… that is… I live with my relatives. They decide what I wear.”

“Are they poor?” Lucius’s fingers strayed down the front of the robe in Harry’s grasp. “Their ability to dress you is lacking, at best.”

Harry blushed, knowing his clothes were ugly, ill-fitting and full of holes. Compared to this man, he must look very poor. “They’re not poor. They just don’t like me.”

Nodding at the revelation, Lucius’s fingers pressed forward and the barest of touches grazed Harry’s chest through the cloth. “What about gifts? You must have many a gift from the beautiful men you watch, Harry.”

Jolting from the soft pressure of the man’s hand, Harry didn’t answer. He stood stock-still, wondering if he had imagined it. Wondering if the man might do it again.

“Do you like gifts?” Lucius asked, fingers pressing forward again, eyes tight on Harry’s face to judge his reaction. Harry’s eyes closed for a moment, now certain that the beautiful man was touching him. Fingers ghosted softly over his chest, moving to the side, a thumb slipping over his nipple through his shirt.

“Oh…” Harry breathed out shakily, eyes wide, knees suddenly weak. The thumb didn’t stop, rubbing over his sensitive flesh, the nub peaking from the touch against the fabric.

“What kind of gifts do you like?” Lucius continued, watching Harry’s clear green eyes grow hazy, the boy’s red lips parting in a silent cry. “I would like to give you something. A pretty boy like you deserves pretty things.”

Harry did not know if he was pretty or what kind of gift he would like. He’d never really received much of anything besides hits from Dudley. This was not a hit. This was something different. Something that made him tingle and feel hot. Harry pressed forward into the touch, face resting against the man’s side.

Lucius stiffened from the contact, then relaxed, breathing out slowly. Harry fit right beneath his arm, thin slender limbs, heated flesh and fluffy hair pressing against his bare skin. Lucius slowly wrapped his muscular arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulled him closer against his body.

“This is good,” Harry whispered, wet lips brushing lightly against the man’s bare side. “This is a good gift.”

Brows furrowed, Lucius dipped his head lower to hear the boy’s soft words. “What did you want?”

“A hug.” Harry placed a hand to Lucius’s back, the robe slithering from his grasp and puddling to the floor. “I want a hug.”

SCENE #Lucius’s secret vice

Lucius stifled a moan. Harry was good; too good to not be a professional.

Lucius had done his damnedest to avoid the boys that worked in the bordello on Flower Circle. They were unique to the area with their ability to provide very realistic fantasies with the help of enchantments. Lucius had not wanted to know just how depraved he was no matter how many times MacNair begged him to come along. That weekend MacNair had been particularly determined, a dark gleam in his eye when Lucius had again refused. Clearly his friend had put in an order for him.

He would have never expected one of the boy’s to seek him out, especially not in a respectable business like Malkin’s. Risking getting caught full of polyjuice or coated in glamors just to fulfill some twisted, deep perversion Lucius had for youthful flesh… Sneaking into his dressing room, green eyes glowing mischief and desire… No, he never expected anything like the devilish Harry.

Muscles tense, Lucius turned and carefully wrapped both his arms around the slender boy, palms resting flat on the dip of Harry’s lower back. Harry nuzzled into his bare chest, arms squeezing tight around Lucius’s waist. In the mirrors Lucius could see his hands, large and pale against the boy’s dirty blue shirt. He twisted the hem up, watching as lightly tanned, golden skin was revealed beneath the fabric. He brushed his fingertips gently over the bare expanse, stilling when the boy sighed and pushed into him with his narrow hips. Heart beating in his throat, Lucius pressed his fingers down again, letting his palm set down against the hot flesh of the boy’s back.

“Is this alright?” Lucius asked, eyes moving up in the mirror again to find Harry’s face turned, the boy’s cheeks flushed. He could only assume Harry would speak up once he’d crossed whatever line the Flower Circle boys had. Or maybe, given their profession, they had no line and it was all just tallied up at the end with the bill? Lucius closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.

“It’s nice,” Harry whispered, dark eyelashes downcast, gaze roving over the man’s smooth muscles and perfect skin. “I thought you’d feel like stone… But you’re warm. Soft.”

Lucius smirked at Harry’s insistence of comparing him to a statue. Men less vain than him would undoubtedly bend to such flattery as well. He began to move one of his hands up beneath the boy’s shirt, over his spine, palm pressing firmly. He sighed when it rubbed the boy’s chest to his, feeling Harry’s pebbled nipples through his shirt. “You’re very soft, Harry. Like a sweet pet.” He let his fingers reach up, caressing the back of the boy’s neck, massaging gently.

Harry made a content noise, leaning almost boneless against the tall man. Lucius wet his lips, feeling a hardness pressing against his thigh. The boy was aroused. Demanding a hug and aroused. Such a naughty thing. Lucius dipped his head down, keeping his voice low as he spoke into Harry’s ear. “Can I see you, Harry? Without your shirt?”

Harry blushed, biting his lip. He knew he looked nothing like the man did with his long, strong form. But it was only fair since he had been spying and got to see all of the blond. “Okay… If you w-want.”

It was the perfect balance of self-consciousness and anticipation. Lucius wondered if they trained the boys to be like that or if it was just something natural to Harry. Daring to look down at the brunette’s bowed head and not his reflection, Lucius gently nudged Harry’s chin up. Startling green eyes met his beneath damaged glasses, a faint frown on the lush red pout.

“You’re beautiful and I would really like to see you,” Lucius assured, absolutely loving the boy’s game.

Harry blushed brighter, his smile breaking free. “Kay.” Harry let go of Lucius’s waist, stepping back so that he could pull his shirt off. Guileless and pointy elbowed, he removed his t-shirt only to ruffle his hair into a wild mess. Lucius bit back a smile, hand rising to comb the chocolate tangle into something tame.

“Here, turn.” Lucius urged the boy to face the mirrors, pulling him lightly back against his chest. Harry blinked up at him, then looked straight ahead, staring at the two of them reflected. “Now you can never doubt your beauty,” Lucius whispered, fingers tracing across the boy’s cheek, over his chin, down his throat.

Harry gasped from the touch, falling further back against the man. His reflection did look a bit pretty, his eyes heavy lidded, skin golden and clear. Even with his dark hair messy, he looked good when the perfectly pale man was in the reflection with him. Harry bit his lip, squirming when he noticed his jeans were tented. He wasn’t supposed to… The Dursleys always yelled when he was like that…

Lucius watched the boy’s reflection, seeing where Harry was staring with just the right level of shame in his eyes. He moved his fingers lower, green eyes rising at the feel, Harry watching the man touch his narrow collar. Lucius teased down, brushing one of the sweet pink spots on the boy’s chest, Harry gasping in surprise.

“Do you like that?” Lucius asked, gently squeezing the hard nipple, sweat beginning to prickle over the boy’s skin.

Harry swallowed, nodding mutely. The blond’s other arm was suddenly around his waist, pulling him back against his hard body. Harry’s eyes fell shut, feeling the man’s erection press against his lower back. The Dursleys weren’t here and the man didn’t seem to care at all if Harry was hard. No, as if to set him at ease, he had gotten hard too.

The hand dragged slowly across Harry’s chest, plucking lightly at his other nipple. Harry groaned softly, his head falling to the side. The man’s flesh smelled amazing, dark in expensive cologne, sweat, and salt. He watched out of the corner of his half closed eye, the strong hand moving down his chest, brushing over his stomach. A finger teased at his bellybutton, Harry’s entire body jerking forward from the sensation.

“Shh… Just relax,” Lucius murmured, pulling Harry back against him, rubbing his hips lightly against the boy’s firm ass. Harry nodded silently, harsh breaths falling from his parted lips. He felt very hot… Out of control, and unbearably hot. It was strange and hardly what he would expect from a hug but he didn’t want the feeling to stop.

Lucius rested his palm on the boy’s flat navel, right above where his over-sized jeans began. It would be so easy to slide beneath them, slip his fingers down against the boy’s flesh and find that silken length. Surely dozens of men had done it before—wrapped large, trembling palms around the boy’s dick and stroked until it twitched in completion. Maybe in this very room while the boy watched glowing green eyes in the mirror.

Lucius could not be so lucky to be the boy’s first. Not with a face like Harry’s. Not with such smooth skin and slender, tight hips and ass. No matter how innocent the boy gasped small mewls and whimpers as he writhed against his taller form.

Staring at those perfectly narrow hips, Lucius slowly moved his hand down, pulling at the pockets of Harry’s jeans. Small, short tugs. Left, then right, then left again. The pants were free to fall down the boy’s thighs. Lucius exhaled sharply, using his foot to push the jeans flat to the ground so all of Harry was exposed. He wore no underwear, his boyish length nearly glowing red as it bobbed between his smooth, creamy thighs.

“My god,” Lucius murmured, unable to do anything but stare at the boy reflected in the mirror. Harry was blushing, eyes glancing from his swollen prick, to the side, to Lucius’s gaze, to the side again.

“They don’t let me… that is… His hand-me-downs are too big for underwear,” Harry mumbled, embarrassed.

“You’re beautiful,” Lucius said, both his hands resting lightly on the boy’s hips, fingers brushing the sharp hipbones while he stared, fixated, on Harry’s flushed dick.

Harry peered up, catching the man’s intent gaze. He smiled shyly, not used to anyone calling him nice names, never mind beautiful. The man was so much more beautiful than him, but still he seemed to think he was pretty too.

Harry’s train of thought was cut short, his body tightening with another rush of heat. The man kept pressing his large bulge against his rear, kept rubbing against him. Harry felt it so much more now that his jeans were off, the space between his ass cheeks nuzzled with slow, aching pushes of soft fabric. He looked up at the mirror, watching as his body swayed back and forth with the man’s, the hands on his hips pulling him back to meet each push forward.

Harry felt dizzy, so full of such strange thoughts and need. The hot bulge kept pushing between his cheeks, damp where the hard tip delved into his crack. He moaned, his legs pushed wider apart, a hand pressing between his thighs and stroking the back of his balls with quick, fumbled motions.

“Harry… will you let me do something?” The man asked, his voice hoarse and rough in his ear.

Harry swallowed, eyes meeting the hungry silver glare in the mirror. “W-What?”

“I want to come on you.” Lucius pressed against Harry’s hole again, grinding against the boy’s tight flesh. Harry bit back a cry, his body clenching inside from the feel, his length so hard and needy. “I just want to cover you, that’s all… Just see you painted with my seed.”

Harry wasn’t a hundred percent sure what the man was asking but he nodded anyways. He felt so good, and surely the man just wanted everything to feel more good.

Lucius made a low, groaning noise that rumbled through his chest. Harry watched in the side mirror when the man’s underwear was pushed down his muscular thighs, his large length revealed. Harry gulped, unable to look away. The man’s dick was long and pale, just like the rest of him. It was so hard it pointed up towards the ceiling, beads of fluid pooling at the dusky tip.

Breathless, Harry watched the man press forward, pushing his thick cock between his tight cheeks. Harry gaped, a shudder running through him from the feel of that hot, hard flesh spreading his cheeks wide and sitting against his hole. “Oh… oh god,” he moaned, shuddering again.

“Quiet, Harry… We have to be quiet,” Lucius said, grinding forward while biting back his own groans. The boy was perfect. Slim, small, naïve and tight. His features were beautiful; wide green eyes so rare and paired with dark hair and his mouth… Lucius wanted to fuck that pretty mouth. He wanted to drive deep between the boy’s swollen lips and make Harry swallow his seed down.

How many men had the boy swallowed already? How many would he swallow after? Lucius shook his head from the annoying thoughts, a strange wave of possessiveness rising up in him. It was just some enchanted whore. Not even young. Not truly innocent.

“Oh… I feel so…” Harry whimpered, his head falling back against Lucius’s chest. The man kept grinding between his cheeks. Without the barrier of underwear he could feel his hole yielding to each hard push, trying to stretch open, trying to let the man’s big cock inside. It felt good… really good… Was that what the man wanted to do? Put it inside him like he was a girl? His hands braced behind him on the strong, rocking body, Harry raised one to his mouth, trying to stop his unceasing noises.

“That’s it, Harry… stay like that,” Lucius whispered, watching the boy bite his own hand to keep from crying out. “You like it, don’t you? Having a man like me want to fuck you. You sneaked in here hoping I’d take you.” He surged forward again, eyes closing as he felt the boy’s tight heat open to him a little more.

God, it would be so easy. So easy to fuck the little tease. Sneaking in his dressing room, watching him strip, getting hard and asking for a hug… And he said yes. Harry said yes to letting him come all over him. What would be the harm in taking a little bit more? Just a little… Just the tip.

“Oh wait… wait, that’s… Oh god… so big,” Harry gaped, his hole stretching wide, the big cock head pushing relentlessly against him until his body was opening to the hot flesh. It was so much, so big inside, he thought he might faint from the intense feel of it.

Lucius closed his eyes, blocking out the tormented expression on the boy’s face. He didn’t want to come just yet. Not yet. Harry’s visage—eyes squeezed shut, gasping lips dripping saliva as he tried to keep from sobbing out—it would undo him. Even more than the boy’s tightness. The ring of muscles were slowly relenting, slowly opening to the head of his cock. Just starting to suckle against him, flesh clenching along his tip, teasing, fluttering pulls.

Lucius held himself there, on the cusp of the boy’s entrance while Harry writhed and gasped in agony. So perfect… so divinely perfect. Just one more thing… He reached around the boy’s bucking hips and wrapped fingers around his sweet, flushed cock. Harry’s whine was melodic, each choked cry absolutely sacred as he stroked the boy’s length until the narrow flesh swelled in his hand and spasmed, wet dripping onto his palm.

Grunting into the brunette’s tangled hair, Lucius came hard, fingers mercilessly bruising into the boy’s hip to keep him from escaping. He spurted his cum right into the puckered entrance, pulling back enough to coat Harry’s thighs and ass with thick streams of his seed.

He stared at his handiwork, fingers brushing down the boy’s back while he collected himself.

Harry fell unsteadily to his knees when released, moaning softly, tilting over sideways to lie curled up on the floor. Lucius gazed down at him, watching him pant, taking in his flushed, sweaty skin and hair stuck to his face. He wished he had an hour to kill. Two hours. Fuck, a day to spend driving into the boy’s tight pink hole pulling cry after cry from his trembling flesh. Harry was utterly divine and Lucius wanted him. He could also afford him.

But he did not have a day. He barely had the fifteen minutes he had just spent. Straightening, he grabbed his wand from his hanging cloak, spelling himself clean. He hesitated when staring down at Harry, wanting to keep the boy drizzled in his cum. Not wise… Not with magic being able to trace back to a person from bodily fluids. Regretfully, Lucius spelled the boy clean as well

He crouched, gently petting the dark damp hair, Harry opening his eyes to look up at him dazedly. “Are you alright?” Lucius asked, smiling when the boy blushed.

“Y-Yeah… Just a lot of new things today,” Harry said, wetting his lips. The man had pulled his briefs back up but everything else was still available to see; pale, strong and handsome.

“Yes… new.” Lucius couldn’t help but travel over the boy’s body with his eyes again, wanting to remember this for as long as possible. Harry was so sweet, still trembling, still blushing. Lucius hooked his hand under the boy’s nearest knee, turning Harry to his back, spreading his legs wide before him. Harry gasped, looking away then back, face bright red. Lucius slid his hands up the boy’s inner leg, over his smooth thigh, caressing the soft flesh reverently. Harry didn’t fight him, just stared at his hand, watching it move over his flesh and squeeze.

“I’d like to see you again,” Lucius said decidedly even while a voice in the back of his head warned just how foolish that was. Getting caught up with the whores on Flower Circle would only lead to trouble. Nothing was ever truly anonymous, not even for wizards. But Lucius didn’t care. He wanted this boy—Or the enchantment this boy represented. It didn’t fucking matter; he wanted him.

Harry bit his lip, eyes straying up to the man’s handsome face. “I’d like that… but I can’t.”

Lucius stilled, not at all expecting a refusal. “Can’t? Not won’t?”

“My relatives… Like I said, they don’t like me,” Harry muttered, disappointment clear on his face. “They’d never let me come out to Diagon Alley alone. I’m already supposed to be going back, ‘cept Hagrid got sick and needed to find a place to throw.” Harry looked away and pushed himself up to a sitting position.

Maybe Lucius was breaking the rules, talking to the boy like he had a choice in the matter instead of dealing with the associate on Flower Circle that must pull all the strings? He thought quickly, trying to find a way into the game the boy had constructed. He didn’t want to miss out on this opportunity just because he didn’t know the rules.

“Maybe you should introduce me to your relatives?” Lucius asked, fingers straying over the boy’s face. “If they got to know me, perhaps they’d like you to spend time with me. Some guardians would be very happy to have their charge taken care of by an older man.”

Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, his face pressing into Lucius’s palm. “You want to take care of me?” Harry whispered, humming when Lucius cupped his cheek and ran his thumb over his lips.

“I would like to see you. Bring you gifts, nice clothes, things you’d enjoy,” Lucius said, pulling Harry’s face closer until the boy’s lips were lined with his.

“Like a boyfriend?” Harry asked, breaking into a small smile. “Or more like a prince, I think,” he added, eyes opening to find the man inches away. He stilled, raising his hand to trace over Lucius’s eyebrow. “You look like a prince. What’s your name?”

“Lucius.” He pulled the boy the last inch, gently pressing their mouths together. Harry kissed like he did everything, as if it were the first time, full of hesitation and vulnerability. The sweetness of it sparked something ferocious and fiery in the man, Lucius crushing Harry’s ripe lips to his, tasting as much as he could, trying to ingrain the boy on his own flesh. Harry gave a weak moan, lips parting to his persistent tongue, arms wrapping loosely around the man’s neck to keep from falling.

Lucius found himself pushing Harry back flat on the ground while he plundered his gasping mouth. He ran a hand down the boy’s side, palm roughly gripping his flesh, finding his outer thigh and squeezing. He pulled the boy’s long leg up, bending his knee and wrapping it around his strong waist. “Harry, I need to see you again,” Lucius said huskily, mouth moving over the boy’s ear and then neck. “Don’t you want to see me too?”

Gasping, Harry nodded. “Y-Yes… it’s just, my uncle won’t like it.” Vernon got angry when things surprised him. Harry being magical and going to Hogwarts was enough. Harry having a very handsome, older man follow him home wanting to be his boyfriend would likely end with Vernon exploding. Maybe if things had time to calm down first.

There was a faint holler outside, Harry startling from the sound. It was Hagrid, likely feeling better and definitely looking for him. “I gotta go,” Harry said, wiggling from under the powerful man’s body. Lucius let him go reluctantly, palm moving over Harry’s leg as the boy slipped away and stood, seeking his clothing. Harry dressed quickly, flinching when he heard Hagrid call him again, sounding further away.

Harry was shoving his feet into his shoes when Lucius finally stood, the boy nearly ready to flee. Lucius caught Harry’s hand, the boy blushing while rocking his foot a final time to sink into his ratty sneaker. “I gotta go,” Harry insisted, but didn’t pull away. “He’s watching me. It’s rude to make him worry.”

Lucius did not want to upset whoever was watching the boy. “You’re right, of course. It was very nice to meet you, Harry.”

“You too, Lucius.” Harry smiled up at the man, taking a step backwards. “I bet it would have been really cool being your boyfriend. My uncle’s just kinda crazy. He can’t stand magical things…” He turned his head, Hagrid calling again in the distance.

Lucius swooped down and kissed him again, softly, sweetly, until Harry sighed and leaned forward. “God… okay… I wish I didn’t have to go,” Harry mumbled, mouth following Lucius’s when the man pulled back. Then he jolted, eyes wide when the voice outside bellowed again. “Crap. Gotta go—Sorry. Bye!” The boy said hastily, fumbling for the door behind him and stumbling out just as awkwardly as when he had first stumbled in.

SCENE #Fantasy shattered

Lucius stood staring at the shut door, his mind whirling. Things weren’t adding up. He knew they weren’t adding up, they hadn’t been from the very beginning but he had been very distracted by the boy’s mere presence. How could he be expected to think with such bright green eyes staring at him while he stripped?

Lucius dressed quickly, eyes searching the room for anything out of place. Harry hadn’t even tried to go near his valuables, had seemed bored by the mention of gifts in general. Not materialistic at all… And his uncle. These relatives who hated magical things… It was more than some little story, wasn’t it? It sounded more like a slice of life. Was he just being foolish, getting caught up in an elaborate fantasy? Or was there more to Harry than what he had first thought? The boy had not admitted to even knowing Flower Circle. But what whore would?

Immaculate, pristine, and with no hair out of place, Lucius strode from the dressing room and straight for the exit of the shop. He could hear his son haughtily ordering the shop owner around behind him. There was no sign of Harry in the front of the quiet store. Lucius stepped out onto the sidewalk, eyes roaming the busy throngs of students and parents getting their school shopping in order along with the normal, heavy foot traffic of the alley.

Lucius had little hope he would find the slight boy amidst the large crowds. That was until he heard a now familiar voice, no longer hollering but still loud as it carried over the gathering of people.

“Don’t you worry, ‘Arry. I’m just glad you weren’t lost. The headmaster would have flayed me. Nah, not really. But he would’ve shouted, I’m sure,” the giant of a man said, ham-sized hand slapping a young boy on the back and nearly bowling him over. Lucius immediately recognized Harry in his over-sized clothes, blushing face ducked as he quietly apologized again for running off.

As formidable as the half-giant grounds keeper was for the school his son was scheduled to attend that fall, he was not, to the best of Lucius’s knowledge, a pimp. Not even the muscle for one. No, Hagrid was about as disgustingly honest and upright as they came, which made Lucius have to wonder just what the man was doing with his Harry. He was being so familiar… Too familiar. He was holding the boy’s packages…

Something fluttered in his stomach at the sight of the familiar shaped packages. They were similar to the ones the house elves had collected for Draco. Harry was with the Hogwarts’ grounds keeper getting packages for school. He was a student. A student who had an uncle who hated magic. He was real—A real, actual boy and not some enchanted Flower Circle whore.

It should have been enough to send Lucius back into Madame Malkin’s shop to obliviate everything that had happened the last twenty minutes from his mind forever. But it wasn’t. Instead, all he could think about was the last sweet kiss he’d shared with Harry. How the boy wished to stay… had wanted to be his boyfriend. Lucius had thought it the sweet nothings of an experienced professional, but now… Now it was so much more. Wrong, terribly demented, yet something he could not stop thinking of it.

“Father, there you are,” Draco said, sounding relieved and annoyed all at once as he pushed his way out the door. “I wanted you to give me your opinion on something.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Lucius said distractedly, watching as Hagrid gave a sudden, atrocious burp and held his stomach with a look of pain.

Draco scrunched his nose, unable to miss the half-giant’s antics even on the crowded street. “What an oaf. Can you believe someone like that is being trusted to protect the boy-who-lived?”

“What?” Lucius asked, finally giving his son his full attention.

“That boy there. That’s Harry Potter. Madame Malkin told me. Guess he’s been living with muggles or some rot.”

Lucius was walking before he realized it, pushing through the people on the street while his son watched him in confusion from the sidewalk. Harry did not see him when he approached but his guardian did. Hagrid slowly raised his heavy head of wild hair and beard, eyes wary beneath his thick brows. Lucius ignored the man, knowing the giant was usually unwilling to make a move unless forced into a corner. Lucius had no interest in a fight.

“Potter?” Lucius held his breath, wondering if the same boy he had just been with was going to turn around or if it was just some cruel trick of the light. But no, it was truly Harry, green eyes wide in surprise as the boy whirled from the sound of his voice.

“Lucius… err… that is….” Harry bit the side of his thumb, glancing at Hagrid who was watching everything.

“It’s true, then?” Lucius whispered, eyes drawn to the boy’s thick fringe covering where his scar would be. “You’re Harry Potter.”

Harry nodded hesitantly, noticing where the man was looking. He pushed his bangs out of the way, giving Lucius a clear view of the lightning bolt scar zigzagging across his forehead. Lucius’s stomach clenched as if he’d been physically punched. Harry quickly dropped his hand, gnawing on his thumbnail while Lucius continued to stand and stare at him silently.

“Don’t know what it means,” Harry said once the silence stretched on too long. “Everyone seems very impressed by it. But it’s just a scar on my head. Doesn’t even hurt or anything. Not worth even looking at.” Lucius didn’t say anything, and Harry sighed sadly.

“Come on, ‘Arry. Mr. Malfoy is a busy man and you shouldn’t be…”

Lucius held his hand up, Hagrid falling silent. “Are you telling me you don’t know how you got that scar?” He asked, disbelief creeping into his voice. Naive was one thing but the boy would have to be a damn muggle to not know about Voldemort.

Harry shrugged. “My relatives said I was in a car accident but I’m pretty sure they’re lying. It doesn’t matter. It’s just a scar.”

“It does matter,” Lucius snapped, turning his gaze to Hagrid. “How can you protect him if he doesn’t even know he needs protecting? You lost him barely half an hour ago. Anyone could just—” Lucius did not finish his thought, his mind spinning. Gods, what if it had been MacNair instead of him in that dressing room? Harry would have been ruined, bloodied and dead on the streets by now. His heart would have been cut out, offered up in memory of the Dark Lord on some dusty altar. It would take absolutely nothing to destroy the sweet, blushing thing.

“It’s not your concern, Malfoy,” Hagrid said gruffly. “Dumbledore is taking care of the boy and that’s all that matters.”

“Right, taking care of him. Which explains how he’s in rags and doesn’t look as if he’s eaten a full meal in his entire life,” Lucius snarled, his anger growing. “Just when, exactly, did Dumbledore start taking care of Harry?”

Harry stepped in, hand lightly touching Lucius’s. The man startled from the contact, attention drawn down to Harry’s worried expression. “I only met the headmaster a little while ago. Same with Hagrid. But Hagrid found me when my relatives tried to hide me away and he’s been very nice. So please, please stop yelling at him,” Harry finished imploringly.

Lucius glared again at the half-giant, then nodded curtly. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said to the boy, “But you need to understand that you’re not safe. You should stay with Hagrid at all times while away from home. There are… There are powerful people. Terrible people. They will hurt you.”

Harry pursed his lips into a small pout, narrow fingers tightening around Lucius’s. “Why? I never did anything to anyone.”

Lucius smirked inwardly. No, the boy had just managed to blow away the most dangerous wizard of his lifetime while still in diapers. “The enemies of your parents are yours now, Harry. Keep your scar hidden and don’t go around spreading who you are. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself. You are special and powerful men will want to control you.”

“Control? How can you…?”

“Magic, of course. Power is the easiest way to control people, and magic is the greatest power. You’ll see once you start school. You’ll see what magic can do, and why your uncle fears it.”

Lucius wanted to pull the boy to him and apparate. It was such a strong, unfamiliar desire. The reality was he couldn’t rescue this boy from the many deranged, lingering Death Eaters who still roamed free. Most of them—the brutish, bloodthirsty ones that were more feral dogs than men—had been locked away. But others still persisted, managing to hide away in plain sight.

Lucius was the most successful in that regard. But then, his madness was contained like the dark was to the night. He was able to pick and choose when to lose himself to the call of power while many others had not. And those others… They would destroy this beautiful boy if they gained the opportunity.

Lucius did not whisk Harry away but he did discretely cast a locatable spell on him, one that would let him find the boy whenever he so chose. It would be soon. Harry was real, alive and known enough for shopkeepers to be gossiping about sighting the boy after so many years. The Death Eaters would be hunting.

“Harry, protect yourself,” Lucius said in farewell, squeezing the boy’s fingers a final time. Harry looked up at him, refusing to let go, other hand wrapping around the man’s.

“Why don’t you eat with us, Lucius? Hagrid was just saying we should get a proper meal before we leave, and…” Harry glanced over towards the store, eyes falling on Draco standing and staring in disbelief across the square. “I bet your son must be hungry, too.”

Inhaling sharply, Lucius watched as the brunette turned a very transparent, extremely sinful smirk his way while running taunting green eyes up his form. The boy was a hellion and if they wasn’t in the middle of Diagon Alley with a crowd, half-giant, and his son watching, he would be enjoying a very improper meal of Harry. Lucius carefully extracted his hand, unable to stop himself from looking the boy over one final time. Harry looked disappointed, and he hated that he felt like he was letting him down. Foolish. He was being very foolish.

“Bye,” Harry said softly, hand waving halfheartedly as Lucius stepped back to return to his son.

“Goodbye, Harry.”

SCENE #?

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