Author's Note: This is a sequel to the story "Guiding Light," though it's not necessary to have read that piece to get this one.

I planned this sequel since the end of GL, I think, though I had writer's block for a while. Then I figured out what I wanted to write. In church. I'm going to hell for so many reasons.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make and money from these works.

Warnings: man on man sex. Like, a lot.

Lessons in the Dark

Prologue

He looked as he always did in Harry's dreams; his pale golden hair brushed just past his broad shoulders, the same grand cape draped across him, the same white clothes under it, and he glowed as if he was not of this world.

And now you know he truly isn't, he reminded himself, noting the blood running from those silver eyes.

Yet for all the similarities, Harry wondered if this was the same man. He had never seen him look so desperate, so mad with hunger (or desire, he wasn't sure). It seemed like an impossible moment, as if they transcended time itself, and Harry's eyes roved over Lucius, his own bed things fallen carelessly on the floor by the man's shoes.

"My love, my only heart… I've come back for you."

It frightened him to hear Lucius speak with such a voice, weakened and desperate, because the man he knew was anything but weak. But what if this was truly him? Had his memory so distorted this being? Was what he remembered truly just something he imagined, something he fancied for reality?

"Are you-?" He stopped speaking when he realized his voice was heavy with the same intonation. It wasn't weakness in Lucius' voice, no; he was overwhelmed at the sight of Harry, as Harry was at the sight of Lucius. His eyes watered, but he blinked back the tears, determined to see Lucius with fresh eyes.

And Harry had found him! There, there was that man he so loved, in that very same desperation and madness and hunger, Lucius attempted to recomposed himself swiftly; he was held together by his self-control, bound in his magnificent form by his own sense of decorum.

"I thought you were something I dreamed," Harry whispered. "All these years, I prayed you weren't."

And then Lucius was upon him. Anything either man had believed Lucius possessed in terms of control disappeared, and he was grabbing Harry up with both arms, kissing the boy in a way he had never kissed him before, his lips persistent, his tongue stroking and twisting in Harry's mouth.

Harry groaned when Lucius pressed him to a wall. The man was running his hands over Harry, and Harry tried to do the same, and though he felt himself fumbling, he couldn't bring himself to care. He moved to catch the blood tears coming from Lucius' eyes, unconscious of the fact yet so very aware of the taste on his tongue. With Lucius against him, he was feeling something strange and wonderful inside him, starting from where Lucius had put his leg just between Harry's, and he was moving gently but so insistently and-

"Oh."

His back arched, his breath quickened. He felt a heavy weight between his legs, a strange stirring and heat, and he was frightened, but Lucius was staring at him with darkened grey eyes and still moving steadily, though surely he must have felt it, too.

"What is this?" he whispered breathlessly. "Lucius?"

But the man had buried his face into Harry's neck, and one of his hands grabbed at Harry, squeezing lightly and making him cry out, sob with the vastness of what he was feeling.

And suddenly, it stopped.

He began to beg blindly, his eyes shut at the abrupt halt of the sensations, because whatever was happening, he didn't want it to end. Lucius began to touch him again, stroking his face, holding his hands gently.

"Look at me," He was so calm, as if he hadn't been caressing Harry so passionately only a moment ago. But the boy obeyed, opening his eyes to see an unusual coldness in the man's eyes, the blood still shining on his cheeks.

"Forgive me; I had not intended for things to progress in that manner. I must speak with you on a few matters, if I may."

The tone made him forget the foreign pleasure. Harry hissed, finding strength which he thought was lost on seeing Lucius. "What is wrong with you? A few years have gone by, and suddenly you and I are strangers? Don't you dare use that kind of formality with me. Tell me what in God's name is going on, or so help me-"

"You drank my blood," Lucius said abruptly, staring at Harry's lips intently.

He almost began to protest before he remembered the hungry way he lapped at the man's tears. He almost recoiled in shame at the thought. He began to think that it was those few drops which returned the fire to his speech, the same way they used to make him feel whole again when he was a child. "You allowed me to do so all those years ago," he said defensively.

A look of pain shot across Lucius' features. "It was a foolish mistake." He withdrew a white handkerchief from a pocket, opening it to erase the traces of blood on his face before replacing it.

Harry's brow furrowed. "Mistake," he repeated hollowly. He felt himself grow cold, and he began to wonder what Lucius was doing here at all.

"Yes… At the time, I was not behaving appropriately for a man of my years."

"And what do you mean by 'a man of your years,' then?"

He looked up at Harry sharply. "You know now what I am, don't you?"

"Of course I do." A hint of a smile brushed along Harry's lips. He raised a hand and, ignoring the way Lucius tried to draw back from his touch, held it to Lucius' cheek. "You are my angel."

Despite his initial trepidation, Lucius leaned gently into Harry's hand, and the sigh coming from him was rough, shuddering. "I am no such thing." He turned to nuzzle the palm of the coarse hand, to sniff at the pulse of the wrist.

"I have survived for so long. If there was any justice in this world, I would have been long conquered by death. I have - sinned against many. But instead of justice, I…" he stared at Harry with love in his eyes and devotion on his tongue, "I received you."

Harry gulped, wetting his suddenly dry lips. "Kiss me… Kiss me like you used to, Lucius," he whispered.

"I can't."

He let his lips graze over Harry's pulse point before drawing away yet again.

"Please, Harry, listen to what I have to say… You have grown so very beautiful, so very distracting."

"Oh, I -" He felt his face heat with a blush. He had forgotten how Lucius used to speak to him. It made his heart tremble and swell. "I'm sorry?"

The laughter spread through Lucius' face like sunshine. He saw it before he heard it, but when the sound flowed from the man, Harry couldn't help but to grin and join. Lucius tugged Harry to him, hugged him tightly and pressed his face to Harry's wild hair.

"I have missed you, my darling boy."

Harry reached up to kiss Lucius again, this time like a child would, all sweetness and love.

"Let me explain myself, Harry, please. I have so much I need you to know."

He nodded, relieved to find the coolness in Lucius had dissipated, leaving the same kind, indulgent man he remembered. They moved to the bare bed, and Lucius apologetically picked up the pillow and blanket from the floor. He placed then neatly on the edge before settling before Harry, who sat cross-legged on the bed, eager to hear what Lucius had to say to him. He watched for a moment as Lucius sat with his legs off the side of the bed, half-facing Harry, until the boy murmured, "This is ridiculous," before crawling to fit himself on Lucius' lap, one arm loosely hung around the man's neck while the other latched onto the front of Lucius' clothes.

"You're home," he whispered, as if in explanation of his actions. Lucius seemed to understand him, because he wrapped his arms around Harry and tucked the boy's head beneath his chin.

"You've grown so much, but you're still so small," he commented lightly, though Harry heard what was not said, the blame for those below, Harry's family. But he didn't want to talk about them just yet; they would only darken what light Lucius had bought to him.

"I feel like a child again, with you, though I'm a man grown now."

He felt Lucius chuckle. "Hardly. If you saw yourself through my eyes -"

"The eyes of an immortal," Harry helpfully supplemented. He threaded his fingers through the crisscrossing over Lucius' chest, lacing the white vest together. He felt the man still around him.

"…Perhaps you should tell me what you know before we begin."

"I don't know anything," he said quite honestly. "It's all speculation." Speculation which was only recently validated, he thought. He had thought about the man so long, about the was he healed him with his wet kisses, the way he shared his blood, and now, the way the man looked to impossibly unchanged after ten years. He wondered if he should have been more hesitant to let the word pass his lips, but it was no more significant than telling Lucius the color of his hair or of his eyes; it was who Lucius was, and had always been.

"And you have never spoken of me to anyone?"

Harry was almost offended by the hint of doubt in his voice, but then he supposed it was a logical query. If Harry had told anyone, Lucius would be in danger coming back to him. He shifted uncomfortably when he remembered the conversation he had just before coming home - with the man who claimed to be - no, the man Harry knew was not a man.

"I've only ever spoken to God about you," he said honestly.

He heard the smile coloring the quip, "Oh, and what did he say?"

"He will make an offer to you, and you must refuse it."

Harry's throat tightened when he understood the implication of the words. The man - God, he thought with bewilderment - told Harry that if he accepted Lucius, Harry would lose the chance to join his family in the afterlife. He didn't quite realize what He meant then, but now he saw it, like a dream becoming corporeal.

"Are you going to take me from this place?" he asked in a small voice, not daring reveal his hope, but feeling it fill him completely. "Are you going to take me away?"

Lucius hesitated to answer. He slid a hand over Harry's wrist, holding it in a gentle grip. "Are you frightened?"

Harry choked on a sob, pressing his face to Lucius' neck even as he felt his tears hot on the man's cool skin. "Only that you will say no."

He had never dared to dream of such a thing, an escape, yet here it was now, holding him, stroking his hair, murmuring sweet words to him. As his tears soaked into Lucius' fine clothes, he began to cry not just at the beautiful thought of leaving this dark place, but at the loss of his true family, those who had died long ago, those he would never see again - because he knew, perhaps he had always known, they were gone from him forever. He couldn't say no to Lucius, not for the vague promise of those who had left him, not even for the love he felt for the God who had equally abandoned him in his times of distress. It was only Lucius, when he was young and now again, who had provided protection, comfort, and companionship.

The man had pulled out his handkerchief again, cleaning Harry's face himself.

"Please," Lucius seemed still more distressed, "You must understand, I cannot take you as you are, I can only take you if -"

"What must I do?" Harry asked immediately, looking directly into Lucius' eyes. "Just tell me, I swear I'll do whatever you want."

Lucius gently removed Harry from his lap, settling him on the bed as he kneeled on the floor before him. He grasped on of Harry's hand in his two, stroking the back of it lightly.

"You know what I am. You know what I must do to survive." Harry nodded slowly, his fingers twitching at the barely-there sensation on his hand. "Would you be able to live as I do? Could you be as I am?"

Wide, green eyes watched uncertain grey ones. "You mean I could be eternally yours?"

The grey eyes turned to fire and his hand grasped Harry's chin firmly. "Enough, Harry. You claim to know what I am, yet you insist on acting like a romantic fool."

Harry almost shot back, "I'm not the one on a knee, am I?" but Lucius had already stood and began pacing the room.

"We can't continue this way." He stopped in front of the window, looking down into the empty square. Harry saw his grey eyes focus on something below. He put a hand to his lips in consideration. "There's only one way for you to truly know what I am. I must show you. Tonight, I will teach you what it means to be a vampire."

"And… the blood kiss?" His breathing had begun to race again, so eager was he to taste, to feel. He began to fidget on the bed as Lucius looked at him in surprise. The tread towards Harry seemed to take forever. He held Harry's face in his hands, turning him from side to side as if examining him, a sorrowful look on his face.

"What have I done to you? Are you already so hungry for blood?"

"For blood?" Harry was startled. That wasn't a foolish question, but it wasn't at all what Harry was focused on.

He looked up at the man he so loved, and admitted, "No; hungry for you."

AN: I have two chapters ready for posting, but it is still a work in progress. Feel free to leave me some feedback (even in PM form) so I can improve. Or tell me how much you love this. Either one.