Disclaimed!
Author's Notes: I got this idea after reading The Serpent and the Lion by Sly Severus.
Here's the link if you wanna go read that first. www . fanfiction s/8361087/1/The_Serpent_and_the_Lion
It's a lovely Autumn evening and Lucius Malfoy is in the sitting room with his wife, Narcissa. The war is over; Voldemort dead and gone. All the Malfoys stood trial afterward, charged with serving the Dark Lord. They would have all probably gone to Azkaban for ten years or longer, had not The Chosen One testified on their behalf. Lucius' wife and son were cleared of all charges, though he had gotten two years probation and lost his job. Now just got a job working as a columnist for the Daily Prophet. The pay is good. Not to say that he's not grateful that Potter aided his family, but on principal he still had a moderate amount of disdain for the boy. He'd never again intentionally bring harm to Potter though. That would send him to Azkaban for life. No one these days could even bad-mouth Potter - the destroyer of Voldemort, saviour of all wizards and muggles alike - without being seriously scorned by society. And the Malfoys don't need society to look down on them more than it already does.
It's ten til seven - almost time for dinner and Narcissa's needles click click click away as she knits a scarf for their son, Draco. Speaking of Draco, he's been in his bedroom all day. Lucius furrows his brow in thought and mild concern. He wonders if Draco's upset over something? The boy doesn't usually lock himself up in the house all day without a single words to them. As if knowing his thoughts, Narcissa says, "Lucius. Would you be a dear and go fetch Draco? It's almost time for dinner and he must be starving. He missed lunch today. I'm a bit concerned."
Lucius quirks a half smiled and rises from the black upholstered chair. "Yes, darling." he says before grabbing his silver snake-headed walking stick. His limp from the war has scarcely gotten better and now he needs his walking stick more than ever. At least he had his health. He ascends the staircase with the slowness and poise granted an older Malfoy. His joints aren't what they used to be, but he's as graceful as ever. He reaches the second landing and turns down one of the neatly decour-ridden halls that screams of refined elegance and walks until he comes upon a beautifully carved oak door; Draco's door. Lucius reaches for the brass handle, about to turn it, when he hears a faint cry of what sounds like anguish. His heart drops and his stomach ties itself into a little knot. Was Draco crying? Was his son crying?
Is this why he's been alone all day? Too miserable to get out of bed and too ashamed to talk to his parents? His parents who love him? Lucius feels saddened and angered. Doesn't Draco feel comfortable enough to talk to them? Lucius turns the knob and pushes the door open to enter Draco's domain. Maybe Draco will be willing to talk about it. With a hand steadying himself still on the door handle he begins to walk over the threshold into the gray and silver themed room, when he's suddenly found himself unable to move. Breath caught in his throat, he can't quite manage to find any words at all. Only the mind jarring, brain sputtering sight before him. He thinks his frontal lobe might have just imploded in on itself.
On the bed, covered in layers of satin and silk sheets, was his son and the worlds' dearest chosen one; Harry Potter. Draco was on his knees and elbows with Potter on his back underneath him. Their mouths were only an inch apart, lips and tongues occasionally touching. Their bare chests were pressed together - from Draco laying atop Potter - and Draco's hips bucking in a steady, rhythmic pace. Yes, they were covered by sheets from the waist down, but that didn't disguise the fact that Draco was, most likely, buried inside Potter; having sex with him. Potter let out small whimpers between panting. His arms were wrapped around Draco's torso, palms splayed out against smooth, pale shoulders. Draco was panting and grunting too with every thrust of his hips.
Potter was in Malfoy Manor being fucked by Lucius' son. His only son. Lucius was first shocked by this, then he was angered, now he's just deathly panicked. What if they caught him... just standing in the doorway, gawking like a bloody fool? Then Draco would really be upset. It's only been a few seconds, but it feels like hours, everything going in slow motion; freezing his mind over. Just then Draco rasps into Potter's ear, "I'm gonna come."
Another small part of Lucius' brain implodes, a few brain cells die, and his face flushes with embarrassment and shame. Okay, he really needs to leave now. He seemed to regain his movement and began to back out slowly as not to alert them to his presence. He closed the door with a soft click so quiet he barely heard it. Lucius heaves in a breath so deep he feels a rush of blood to his head and gets dizzy. His face is still cherry red and his eyes are wide, like a child's. Wide and furiously blinking. Never had Lucius Malfoy been so flustered. What'll he says to Narcissa? Draco'll be down in a minute after he's done giving it to the saviour of the wizarding world? Definitely not.
Lucius descends the stairs in a slightly hurried fashion and returns to the sitting room, reclaiming his previously vacated chair next to his wife. She's silent for a moment, then looks at her husband in inquiry.
"Is Draco coming?" she asked, and in all curiosity she means coming to dinner.
Lucius swallows, she doesn't really notice his flushed look. "You could say that."
He knows they're not talking about the same thing, but at least he's not lying to his wife. God help him.
Bye lovelies. Til next time. :3