AN: Inspired by CrystallicSky, who seems to be having so much fun with one-word prompts, I decided to give it a try. Because the current story I'm (mainly/supposed to be) working on is Harry/Lucius, I plan on making these all about them.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Some are owned by J.K. Rowling, some are owned by DreamWorks, etc. Also, I took The Killers' song, Sweet Talk and made it the title of this thing 'cause I had nothing else. Love that song.
Warnings: slash, abuse, shouta, BDSM, D/s, character death, angst, incest, creature!Harry/Lucius, evil!Harry/Lucius, abusive!Harry/Lucius, emo!Harry…/Lucius(?) -- Hey, really, with my imagination, anything is possible. I have free reign in this one. If there's anything serious, I will warn you in the beginning of the chapter.
1. Lock
There was a thin line between being protective and being possessive, but, Lucius reasoned as he gently tugged a blushing Harry away from another flirting shopkeeper and Apparating them home, no one would know if he kept his young lover in a room under lock and key, safe from prying eyes and those with decidedly perverse thoughts.
Harry was his.
2. Ashes
"Cremated?" Lucius repeated the word. "Why ever would you want to be burned?"
"I don't know!" Harry sighed, flopping back into the cushions of the couch. "I just always found the idea kind of romantic, you know, having your ashes scattered in a place you loved."
The blond scoffed, "So I can be blown in different directions to be inhaled by strangers? I don't believe that applies to my idea of 'romantic,' Harry."
"Fine," Harry huffed. "So what does, then? And don't say having your body turned into diamond -- You have to be make into to ashes for that, and by the way, I find the whole idea disturbing."
"To be entombed in a mausoleum," Lucius informed his lover, tugging the younger man onto his lap. "With you right beside me when your time comes," he went on in a more subdued tone, the thought of Harry's inevitable death ever-painful. "So even in death, I will know you are with me."
"Oh," he breathed, lowering his head when he blushed and agreed, "I guess that is more romantic than my idea."
Lucius smirked when a dark-haired head nuzzled against his neck, but said, "I thought so," instead of, "Good, because I've already replaced Narcissa's name with yours in the Malfoy Mausoleum."
3. Tarnish
Lucius understood that Harry couldn't literally be tarnished by his touch, but he feared every time he lay with the younger man, the innocence exuded by him would blemish until he was no longer golden. After two years, he finally understood that he wasn't dulling Harry; the boy was polishing him.
4. Smile
The waiting room of a hospital currently held the seven of the remaining Weasleys, Fleur, Hermione, the only remaining Potter, and Lucius Malfoy; all but the lastly mentioned person wore expressions of anxiousness and concern for the eighth Weasley in the operating room. Arthur, Molly, and Bill, the eldest of the offspring, were trying to comfort Harry, telling him things like, "I was always just as worried when Molly gave birth," and, "We had to wait a long time, but Fleur and Victoire both came out healthy, didn't they?" Lucius did not think it was necessary to remind him that though she was in labor for more than a few hours, she had not needed a cesarean. Harry was in enough panic, as subdued as it was.
Dr. Snape finally came through the double doors, his face, like Lucius', blank of feeling. Harry stood, immediately approaching the man.
"How is she? Is everything okay?" he asked quickly, standing with his back erect and feet planted, as if ready for the doctor to physically strike him.
Snape gauged how weary the younger man looked despite his firm posture for half a second before saying quietly, only a bit of emotion leaking into his words, "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter."
Molly made a small sound and covered her mouth with her hand, and Arthur put his arm around her, pressing his head to her and crying silently to her small sobs; Ron stood and stormed away from everyone, presumably outside to hospital, but everyone already saw the tears falling from his eyes, and Charlie immediately went after him; Bill and Fleur held each other tightly when neither could keep their composure; George hand his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees, as he shook his head slowly and muttered and cursed under his breath, saying things like, "Not another one," and "It's not bloody fair," with Percy in a similar state, without the muttering.
Harry was still staring at the doctor, and it didn't seem like he understood what was said, or what the words implied. That, or his conscience didn't allow comprehension.
Hermione and Lucius seemed to be the only ones not losing themselves with grief besides him, though the former looked dangerously close. She stood, taking an inaudible breath, walked to Harry's side and held his hand, and asked Dr. Snape, "And the baby?"
At that, Harry blinked, as if awake again. "Yes, is he…?"
"The baby is perfectly healthy," Snape answered professionally. "You may see him when you're ready."
Harry nodded and the doctor turned and left the family.
Lucius watched Harry carefully, wondering when the hysterics would begin.
As if on cue, Harry's shoulders began to shake and his friend turned and embraced him. He wrapped his arms around her and cried out, "Oh, god, Ginny!" as if she could hear him wherever she was and answer his call, return to him, but she was gone, so he sobbed into Hermione's hair and let her rub circles on his back and whisper comforting things that fell on deaf ears.
He began to look so weak standing in her arms, like he would soon collapse from being unable to support himself for much longer, so Lucius stood and stepped towards the bushy-haired young woman, touching her hand lightly. She gently pushed Harry into his waiting arms, and when he looked up to see his lover, he went to crying into the man's suit.
Lucius Malfoy was not usually a patient man, and one of the few people who were granted the rare patience was his lover; unfortunately, whatever it was in him that made him endure the younger man's occasional rants and admittedly emotional outburst seemed to erode slightly, and he eventually said in a hushed voice, "That's quite enough now, love. Everything will be fine, just -- "
"No, it won't be 'fine,' Lucius!" the brunet shouted at him, wrenching himself from the older man's arms to glare at him. "You don't know -- You don't understand what it's like to lose someone you love so much, it hurts knowing you won't ever see her smile at you, or hear her laugh with you, or feel her touching you ever again!"
Lucius held Harry's face with one hand, wiping away the tears with his thumb despite the younger man still trying to move away. He stared down at the fiery emerald, his own eyes dull, and said softly, "You love her." It wasn't a question -- After eight months of the two men being together, Harry still loved her!
Thank goodness Lucius emotionally numbed himself, otherwise there was not telling what his reaction would be when Harry answered, "Yes, I fucking love her!"
Would it have pained him? Enraged him?
"She was -- "
He stopped, his eyes suddenly wide at the word he spoke, was. Lucius took advantage of the paralysis of the realization that Ginerva was and would be no more and pulled the smaller body to his. Good timing, too, because he felt the shaking body limping in his arms.
That was when Lucius became aware of the other beings in the room, and how the chorus of sounds of mourning from them ceased when they saw the young man's seemingly inanimate body.
"Oh my, is Harry alright?" he heard a sniffling Molly ask from over his shoulder.
Lucius would have probably been just as worried (though less obviously) if he didn't feel the continuous, steady puffs of air against his skin where Harry's head was resting. He ignored the woman and moved to sit Harry in one of the vacated seats and allowed her and one of her many sons to fan him with one of the pamphlets that were on the table.
In no time, Harry's body tensed and he opened his eyes.
The sight of the dulled green hurt Lucius more than he expected.
"Give me my baby," he said to no one in particular, but apparently the doctor was listening nearby, probably passing to give some forms to a nurse.
"If you will follow me, Mr. Potter. And who will be handling Ginevra's -- ?"
"I will," he said without letting the doctor finished. Lucius tried to stop him from getting up so quickly, sure that it wouldn't be too good for his equilibrium after his little spell, but the man swatted his hand away.
Of course he didn't do the same to Molly when she put her hands on his shoulders. "No, Harry, we'll take care of her. Go to your baby, dear."
Lucius knew Harry would argue; as broken as he was, he would not allow himself to make the woman suffer with this task, handling the girl's corpse, though they had much more right than he, her ex-husband, did.
Thankfully, when Arthur stood and urged Harry to go with Snape, he agreed, not without one last glance to the doors of the operating room.
"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, if you'll come with me," Nurse Pomfrey said, entering the waiting room with a clipboard of forms. Five pairs of eyes looked up at her and she grimaced, but Arthur, Molly, Bill, Fleur, and Percy all followed the woman.
Only George and Hermione remained in the waiting room with Lucius, though the latter soon excused herself and the former didn't seem to be aware of much. Lucius stood and went in the direction Snape and Harry disappeared to, easily finding the nursery.
He watched as Harry stood there with a dark-haired baby in his arms and as the young man's tears fell onto the little tuft of hair, and Lucius watched as he knew he wouldn't be able to comfort his lover for some time. Lucius would be useless in comforting Harry -- the man was right about how little Lucius understood about grief such as this. Harry would need te heal, and Lucius would need to be out of his way... Even if it hurt him.
So with a sad smile that no one would see, Lucius left the hospital and Harry indefinitely.
5. Interrogation
Lucius didn't know why he was with Harry. The man was, in a few words, an abusive partner. He didn't habitually strike Lucius, but he could be forceful at times -- though never intentionally. He expected Lucius to give him unconditional trust, but he gave Lucius little to none. For example, everyday, when Harry came home from the station, Lucius would be there to greet him with a customary kiss, and the first words from Harry's mouth would be the start of the daily interrogation, a falsely nonchalant, "So what did you do today, love?"
He loved Harry. He had to. If he didn't, why would he move with him to America? Why would he leave the comforts of his home, his solid future, for this, being trapped in the largest cell any prisoner has ever known, unless he truly loved Harry?
But Lucius was slowly growing weary with this pseudolife. This wasn't what he agreed to when he decided to leave Britain with Harry. This was America, the Land of the Free… So where was his freedom?
That thought stayed with him, stuck on to him like a leech and sucked out the quiet submission implanted in him by his parents that had kept him believing he was happy with this life. When they first moved in, Lucius had come to accept his confinement, but he lately began to slowly rebel against it. He wanted to test the restraints Harry seemed to have on him, so to speak; he wanted to push his buttons to see which did what, knowing it would lead to nothing good… But the irrational part of him simply had to see what would happen.
It was almost their eighth month in their new home. An hour and a half before Harry was to return, Lucius slipped into the shower. He took his time, and when he got out, there was but half an hour left. He purposely left his hair dripping wet while he dressed in a different outfit from what he put on that morning -- from what Harry last saw him in -- and went to the front door to greet the man.
Just as the door opened, Lucius swallowed and suddenly had second thoughts, and prayed that he wasn't signing his death wish.
6. Stress
Finally, Lucius Malfoy had completed what was, for a long time, the most impossible task to complete, but he did it…
… He had captured Harry Potter.
He had informed the Dark Lord, of course, and Lucius was extremely pleased with himself on how efficient his plan was, especially because he had succeeded where his Lord had not. It started with convincing Severus to drink just a bit more than he usually did one night, then learning of the Order's plans to safely moving Potter on his seventeenth birthday -- Yes, he had to admit to the underhand trick of adding a discrete potion to Severus' drink, but he had no other way to get the man to tell what he knew. He simply had to arrive sooner them with a few competent hires, many of who were unfortunately sacrificed during the heist when they faced the Order, and leave before the Death Eaters could find out and inform their Lord -- Lucius was right in assuming He would be less angry if the news was delivered by Lucius himself.
The Dark Lord gave Lucius permission to do as he pleased -- "Just keep him alive."
Lucius hadn't seen the ticket to his Lord's good graces since they had first brought him to the Manor, absent of Narcissa and Draco by his orders. A firecall had come in as soon as Lucius was heading to the dungeons, from one incensed Severus Snape.
"You have no idea what you've done."
The stress of those words caused them to ring in Lucius' head, but it was Severus who couldn't understand exactly what Lucius did. He called a house elf and ordered a small meal for the captive then went down to the lower level of the house to the dungeons which held the beloved Savior.
Upon opening the door of the cell Potter was kept in, Lucius took a deep breathe of the intoxicating scent.
Lucius didn't just capture Harry Potter, the Wizarding world's Savior -- He had captured Harry Potter, his mate.
7. Evidence
Lucius was trying to get to France as quickly as possible, but it seemed fate would not smile on him tonight; now he was riding through London instead of staying in the carriage that had taken him from Birmingham because of one simple mistake; the foolish driver had forgotten about Lucius' "condition" and hadn't informed him when dawn was approaching, but kept driving. It was close to midday when Lucius realized what the detestable heat was.
Now the buffoon was dead and Lucius was cold and hungry. He recalled how he had left the driver's neck broken, a bullet in his head, and no gold to speak of -- standard evidence of a run-in with highway robbers. Lucius checked into the nearby tavern to recuperate from the light sunburns he received, and he was so hasty to get to France that he forgot to feed.
The town he was passing through was on the southern outskirts of London, smaller and much less populated, which was a pity considering what a sight Lucius believed himself to be -- his trim figure on his white steed, magnificent white cape (the only thing that shielded him from burning to a crisp that afternoon) billowing behind him, and his fair hair much in the same fashion, wildly dancing in the wind -- among the drab backdrop of the town. The houses were all the same to him, weakly crafted, poorly kept, and not nearly as elaborate as the French houses he lived. There was nothing to keep him from speeding through the town as quickly as possible so as to return to his wonderful home, to the lap of luxury where hundreds of necks were just waiting to be bitten into, hundreds of unknowing players in his game of predator and prey --
Then of course, something made him pull on the reigns to stop the horse as quickly as possible.
A scent.
The scent of blood, fresh, young, strong blood.
Lucius looked around -- of course there was not a soul out this late, and there were no shady alleys in which a theft or murder could occur… The blood was in one of the houses. He slipped off the horse and silently backtracked to where he first sensed the scent.
He stopped in front of the house, hearing the steady breathing of three sleeping inhabitants.
The fourth inhabitant's breathing was short, staggering, pained, but it was this one who called to Lucius.
He looked around, and sensing no one that would see him, he scaled up the wall and entered the house through the window of the attic. He slipped in quietly and walked to the pile hay on which his prey seemed to be sleeping. He leaned closer, inhaling slowly and counting the number of wounds that marked the boy -- eight visible, open, enticing wounds on the boy's arms, along with bruises on his face and neck… Lucius had no pity in him. Whatever had happened to this boy was really none of his concern, all he felt was the undeniable bloodlust.
One hand stroked a purpled cheek, the other began to grasp the neck, and the boy's eyes suddenly opened.
There was fear -- as Lucius expected -- but this was followed by a calmness Lucius thought was unjustified.
The boy said softly, "You're late."
8. Confide
After a life of constant wariness of those around him, immovable masks to deceive the gullible ones, and trickery to keep the more clever ones in their place below him, Lucius was glad to finally have someone he could confide in when it seemed his secrets would weigh him down, someone who he'd gladly spend the night with completely naked and vulnerable, someone who was so above him, Lucius would never think to try to do any wrong against him.
So on his knee in front of his confidant, his lover, his angel, he asked, "Harry James Potter, will you marry me?"
9. Crumpets
Two boys huddled in a dark, dusty trunk in the corner of a large room, thin, equally pale arms wrapped around each other in search of protection and as an attempt to make themselves smaller.
"I don't want to play this game anymore, Luci," the younger of the two voiced as quietly as possible, still earning him a squeeze.
"Hush," the older one breathed. A protest began but was cut off with a, "Remember what Mrs. Lovett said, we'll just have to play a little longer until they give up, Harry, don't worry. We've almost won."
The boots of the men stomped menacingly across the floorboards outside the trunk, and every time the volume increased as they neared the hiding place, both pairs of arms tensed -- Lucius reacted more noticeably because only he knew how dire the situation was. He had gone along with what the baker downstairs told them, that this was like a game of hide-and-seek. Lucius knew the men were going to take them away, just like they took away their father, but he wouldn't let that happen, never…
But if these were such bad men, why didn't Mother come home? She, at least, would offer more protection than Lucius, a simple six year-old, could offer to his three year-old brother, but Mrs. Lovett wouldn't say a word, as many times as he asked about her. Mrs. Lovett just hid their father's pretty razors and coaxed them to stay quietly in the trunk, then bribed them with fresh crumpets if they won the game of hide-and-seek when that didn't work.
Lucius didn't know how much longer their good luck would last, but he was absolutely certain it would not last; and when it did run out, Lucius knew he would be ready to spring and they would run as fast as they could… Where or to whom, he did not know, but he did know that if the officers caught them, they would separate the brothers.
The moment of anticipation had finally arrived:
"Alright, it looks like there's nothing left 'ere. The kids may be with grandparents or somethin'… In any case, we should tell the Judge they're gone."
There were a few mummers, unintelligible through the trunk, but Lucius assumed they were all of agreement, because about half a dozen pairs of boots walked through the door and down the stairs, and the only sound Lucius could hear was the echo of the bell when the door closed.
He sighed in relief, and when Harry looked at him questioningly, he only nodded.
The younger boy grinned. "Finally, I thought we'd never -- "
The rest of the sentence was lost to gasps from both boys as the trunk was opened.
Apparently, not all the mummers were affirmations.
"Eugene! Come back up, I've found them!"
It looked like the boys weren't getting their crumpets any time soon.
10. Unauthentic
Harry looked up at Lucius through wet eyes, and Lucius looked right back at him, doing his damned best not to mirror his lover, not to cry, but to remain in his silent agony. He had to be strong for his angel, or at least try. So he kept hidden the pain he had. He thought he knew what it might be, this tightening right in the middle of his chest. The feeling gave him the image of the roof of a house collapsing in because of a missing beam, like his heart suddenly disappeared and caused him this suffering.
That was when Harry lurched forward, his arms wrapped about himself as if he had to hold his chest together. Lucius wanted to put his own arms around the angel and hold him as close as possible. Instead, he held Harry by his arms just away from him and watching his face twist. So Harry felt it too…
"What is this?" he whispered to the demon's chest. "Why am I in pain?"
Lucius stated calmly, "This is physical pain caused by your… emotional pain. It is very human of you to feel it. We may have spent too long a time on Earth if you feel this so severely. Then again, God wanted this, for you to be more human," he added with a not-so-fake sneer. "You should tell Him about this when you return to Heaven."
The two green eyes widened and immediately looked up at cold, grey eyes. "But what is happening to me?"
Staring down at his lover, his friend, … his reason to be, Lucius said impassively, "Your heart is breaking. A pity, isn't it?" His lips just wouldn't form the smirk he had in mind to top off that comment. His lover's heart was breaking!
This didn't work to distract Harry like Lucius had planned. He wanted Harry to focus on him possibly loosing his heart, one of the greatest parts of himself since he "found" it on Earth, because it was getting so hard to hide his pain. At least in Hell he'd probably have an easier time… that way no one would find out and he wouldn't be condemned to die a human death on Earth.
No, Harry just placed his right hand over where his heart should be for a moment, then he placed both on Lucius' chest.
"What about yours?" he asked in a strained voice of concern… Now he was trying to hide his pain.
Lucius should have pushed the angel away. He should have told him that his was long gone, maybe even blame God and His decision to permanently separate them, but Lucius had no more fight in him. He couldn't do this, not to himself, not to his love… He felt himself crumble under the questioning gaze; his unauthentic indifference diminished.
Still keeping one hand on Harry's arm, he placed the other over the two small ones. "Lucifer won't be happy when he finds out."
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and shut it again with a snap. That didn't work to keep his lip from trembling, and Lucius frowned and turned his head away slightly, trying and failing to hide his tears.
Whether Harry saw them or not was irrelevant, because he threw his arms around Lucius and buried his head in the crook of his neck. Lucius held the angel just as fiercely, possibly for the last time…
They had escaped to Earth to gain a new lease on life -- a human life. Was this the price, dying without experiencing the relief of death?
AN: Well, CrystallicSky usually has little notes for each prompt, which I think are cool because she and her friend (who she mentions a bunch) are quite funny.
Lock - No comment.
Ashes - Really, the "turn your deceased loved ones into jewels that last forever!" shtick irks me. I'm sorry if you feel differently. I thought the mausoleum thing was kind of cute, though.
Tarnish - No comment.
Smile - I think there will be no more than three parts to this. Yes, it's quite depressing despite the title. Yes, it will get better. Not before it gets a little worse, though.
Interrogation - I was watching this Lifetime movie. That should explain where I got the plotline from. Anyway, there's a reason why it's Lucius who is in this position rather than Harry. There will be more than a few parts to that, look out for those.
Stress - One or two more parts to that one. I don't know where it came from. *shrugs*
Evidence - I love vampires. I had to have one vampire!Lucius because it really had to be done. In my mind, Lucius makes a super-hot vampire. Yeah, I was in school when I thought of this one, expect it started out in Harry's perspective. You'll get that one in the next chapter, I think. There should be a few parts to this, maybe enough to become an independent fic.
Confide - No comment.
Crumpets - Sweeney Todd, biatch. Another love of mine (*nudge nudge*, St. Minority is all about Depp, check her out). If you haven't seen the movie, know this: sad ending. Will this one had a similar oucome? Stay tuned. May become an independent fic.
Unauthentic - This idea would not leave me alone. There are a bunch of angel-falls-in-love-with-demon stories and such about, but I don't think any influenced me. I can't tell you anything without ruining the story, I'm sorry, but I really like this one and it will most definitely become an independent fic. Oh, Dumbledore is God. Voldemort is the Devil (obviously). Uh… That's all I can offer for now.