Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended. The story and chapter titles come from the Edith Piaf song of the same name, and do not belong to me, either.

Summary:After their night of uncontrolled lust, brought together by the Room of Desire, neither Lucius nor Harry can stop thinking of the other. But they are still on different sides of the war. Will they give in to their own desires for more, and if so, whose side will they turn to? And what is up with this mark on his arm? A continuation of enchanted nightingale's Room of Desire, with permission. Slash. Possible Dark!Harry. I can't tell you more without giving away the plot...

A/N: This story might be a little slow, romance-wise. I had originally intended this to be a purely romance fic between Lucius and Harry, but then the plot ambushed me, twice, and so the lemon is being put off a little. This is probably a fairly slow fic, at first, so bear with me. But I swear all of it has a purpose! I just have a lot of things to set up. And also cause it follows OOTP and HBP for a little. Please let me know if there's anything I can improve.

Also, Warning for a ton of OCs and AUness.

Go read: fanfiction. net/s /3915736/ Because I tried to think of a good prologue, but I couldn't think of anything better than what she has.

Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien

Chapter 1: Non! Rien de Rien

Harry tumbled out of the floo into the Headmaster's office, a glowing orb clutched in his hand. Taking a few steps forward to regain his balance, he would have fallen face forward into someone's chest had it not been for the steadying hands that reached out to grab his arms. He followed the hands to see Sirius' face, giving a mischievously reassuring smile down at him. Harry smiled back up tentatively.

"Okay there, squirt?" Sirius asked.

Harry grimaced at the nickname.

"Don't call me that."

He had always been quite small, and even as a first year. He had, for the most part, gotten used to everything that came with being small: affectionate nicknames, comments—both malicious and not— pats on the head, fervent mothering, fierce hugs and the odd girly squeal. Especially now, after all the other boys (and girls) his year had gone through puberty, he was left behind in the height department. He knew that he would always be small and lithe for his age group, but it was ridiculous. He was definitely the shortest male in his year (and the next year behind as well), and he was very nearly the shortest person in the entire year. Only a few girls were shorter than he. Harry had a secret theory that magic augmented the size of witches and wizards, as they tended to be taller than Muggle, on the whole. But in his case, his magic was too concerned with healing his wounds, and preventing death from malnutrition or dehydration to make him any taller. He hoped that puberty was coming to make a second round with him. Seriously. He would settle for a couple inches.

Startled, he heard the floo flare again and turned his head to see Remus step up behind him. Without turning back around, he knew all the others in the room were staring at him expectantly. Harry tried his best to look oblivious to the fact that they were surely going to interrogate him further on the night as he took in the other occupants of the room.

Dumbledore was staring at him over the lenses of his half-moon glasses, expression stern. Harry smiled at him, purposely smiling a wide-eyed, innocent smile. Dumbledore's expression softened infinitesimally. Oh yes, works every time, Harry thought. Bill was already seated in an armchair, looking for all the world to be casual and relaxed, though tired. Mad-Eye Moody was standing in a dark corner of the office, his arms crossed and a sour look on his face. Snape, who had been unable to go to the Department of Mysteries because of his spy status, was already lurking in another corner, the thunderous expression on his face was ten times as bad as the one on Moody's. Shacklebolt had stayed behind at the Ministry to assist the Minister and other aurors. Harry looked around more and realized that Tonks and Mr. Weasley were gone, but then again so were his friends. He assumed that as he had flooed in as the second to last person, the other students had already been taken to the Hospital Wing by Tonks and Mr. Weasley. Harry looked back at Sirius and Remus. He was relieved that the two men that were the closest things to father figures that he had came out of the fight safe.

Dumbledore was seated behind his desk. He looked inordinately serious, considering the expression he had worn all the times before when Harry had been called into his office. Harry had been noticing it all year, the way Dumbledore's voice seemed more solemn around him, the way he would refuse to even look at him, and something else more subtle in his expressions and mannerisms that had changed. He was less… cheery. Harry had slowly come to realize that the way he interacted with Dumbledore had changed. It was as if he was treating Harry as more than a little boy— but it was more than that, too, something deeper, that Harry could not put his finger on.

"Harry," said Dumbledore, his voice grave, "could you give me that, please."

It was more of a command than anything else, so Harry reluctantly hands over the little glass globe— what he had thought was a secret weapon. All this trouble, the entire year had been about this little glass globe, and tonight had been the culmination of that year. After month's worth of frustrating dreams, and a frightening night of running through Great Britain, Harry had what both sides wanted in his hand. And he had to give it to Dumbledore. Harry knew it was a prophecy— one about him and about Voldemort. He had been hoping to sneak off to listen to it some time, if he could figure out how. It was about him, after all. He resolved to ask about it later.

"Please take a seat, we would like to ask you some more questions about tonight."

Harry felt something in his stomach sink at the thought, but he kept it off his face. It had been a long day, and it would be an equally long night. Well, technically, it had been a long night, seeing as how it was already going to be dawn soon. Harry resolved to stick to his lie about what had happened in the Department of Mysteries with Lucius Malfoy. It was something so intensely personal to him, and something that he didn't feel that was something they had to know. The general gist of the night was all that was necessary— that he had spent time in the same room as Lucius Malfoy, right-hand man to the Dark Lord Voldemort himself, and that he had come out unharmed was all they needed to know. The state of the affairs between the two, the…er… activities enjoyed by both, and the state of his virginity were irrelevant.

He only hoped that Bill kept his silence. He had kept quiet and gone with Harry's story until now, but now that they were back in the Headmaster's office, maybe he'd come clean. Harry knew that the reactions, if he told the truth, would be fierce outrage and disdain. No, they would be more than that. He couldn't even imagine what people would say if they found out. But it had been his decision and he, somehow, still didn't regret it. Perhaps that would be something to think about later, when he was alone. He reluctantly took a seat with Sirius on a loveseat in front of Dumbledore's desk that had been transfigured from an armchair.

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore said again, "could you tell us why you and five other students rushed out tonight to the Department of Mysteries?"

Harry took a deep breath, and began his story. He began with the truth, telling about the fake vision, meeting Umbridge, getting no assistance from Snape, entering the Forbidden Forest, the journey to the Ministry, and finally of finding the prophecy.

Harry cleared his throat nervously; this was getting close to the point he would have to lie.

"Well, after I picked it up, I heard Lucius Malfoy behind me. He told me to give the ball to him. I refused. Bellatrix Lestrange and some other Death Eaters came, and we all got separated. Lucius Malfoy chased me into the circular room, and I don't know how long we were running around for, but eventually I ran down a corridor."

This is where it would get tricky. Harry put up the best Occlumency shields he had, which were horribly weak, and pushed to the forefront his memories of running through the Department of Mysteries, and feelings of fear. It was the best he could do. He looked at Professor Dumbledore, right between the eyebrows, so it would appear he had eye contact without actually looking him in the eyes. Harry hoped that it was far enough away from his eyes that Dumbledore wouldn't be able to read his mind. He tried to keep close enough to the truth, anyway, just in case.

"He chased me. I ran into a room. He followed. I— I don't know. I started feeling… funny. I don't know, it was like, my heart was beating too hard or too fast or something. He came in, and stopped. I could tell that whatever it was that was affecting me was affecting him as well." This is where the lying began, "He started cursing me and taunting me, but it seemed different than before. We got into a duel, but I could tell that he wasn't putting his all in to it. Eventually we stopped."

Moody, who had till then been silent, save for a few snorts here and there, spoke up, "You just stopped? Not likely, boy."

"Well, we did. I don't know what to tell you." Harry cut his eyes to Bill to see his reaction. He sat calmly, giving no indication that he suspected Harry to be lying. He didn't look likely to cut in with the truth.

"Alastor, we must take into account the affects of the room they were in," said the Headmaster.

Moody grumbled but said nothing further.

"Harry, if you would please continue the story." Harry noticed that it was more of a demand than a request.

"Yeah, well. Er, like I said, we stopped fighting. I was feeling a bit dizzy. We just, stared at each other, I guess. I don't know how long for. I was about to leave when you all got there." He paused, assessing if there was anything he left out, "er… that's it, I guess. You know the rest from there." Harry chanced another glance at Bill. He marveled at the fact that he was saying nothing. If it had been anybody else, they would have blurted the truth the first chance they got, and then defend themselves with 'But Harry, it's for your own good' if he got angry. But he just sat there, looking amused and staying silent.

"That's it. You fought, 'sort-of,' and then you stared at each other. And he let you go. That's it?" Moody didn't seem convinced.

"Uh…"

Sirius jumped in to defend Harry before anything else could be said. "That's what he said, isn't it, Mad-Eye? You already asked that."

"As I said before, we must take in to account the effects of the room. It undoubtedly had unknown effects on them."

"The Ministry said that the Room of Desire lowers inhibitions and encourages people to act on their sexual urges. It certainly smelled like something sexual had gone on, but perhaps I was mistaken." Remus finally put in his own two cents, seeing as he was the one that had found them. Up until that point he had been sitting in his armchair next to Harry, quietly contemplating.

"Yes, encourages being the key word, I believe…" Dumbledore trailed off, as he was wont to do.

"Sir?"

"Yes, well, I mean that if there were no desires to encourage, then nothing would have taken place. Given the situation, I have no reason to believe that either party would be amenable to relations of any sort— or positive ones at least."

Bill coughed. Harry endeavored not to look at him.

"Exactly," Sirius said, "as if anyone could be attracted to that pompous ass."

"Harry, it seems that the room merely made you feel dizzy instead of working on your sexual desires. We will have to look in to that, and ask the Ministry what the affects would be on two individuals that had only animosity for each other. I would conjecture that the reason why his threats seemed to fall flat, and even why his heart did not seem to be in the duel, would be that the room did have a miniscule effect on Lord Malfoy. Interesting indeed." By now Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling again. "Huh! What mysteries our world has. To work in the Department of Mysteries, now that would be something, wouldn't it?"

Harry stayed quiet, unsure if he was off the hook or not. Both Snape and Moody were in their respective corners, brooding silently. They were used to Dumbledore's tangents by now and had learned to stay quiet to humor the man.

"But back to the point. Harry, it was irresponsible what you did. It pains me to say this, Harry, but I am very disappointed in you. A lot of people could have gotten hurt." Looking around the room, he could see that Snape, and Moody were in agreement with Dumbledore, and even Remus looked like he secretly agreed but wanted to remain quiet about it. Moody almost seemed shocked that he actually agreed with Snape over something. Bill was looking angrily at the floor, pursing his lips, but Harry had the feeling that he wasn't angry at him, but instead angry on his behalf.

"We were lucky this time that there were no serious injuries. Perhaps I am asking too much," Snape sorted, but Dumbledore soldiered on. "You are young yet, and I understand that. I wish that you had more time to enjoy being young and irresponsible, but I am afraid that the time for that has passed. Now that the Ministry will acknowledge Voldemort's return, war efforts will begin in earnest. But I truly believe that a lot can be learned from tonight." Dumbledore peered at him over his half-moon glasses, "Harry, as we grow up, we need to learn to make educated decisions. And to do that, we must slow down, and learn all we can about a situation before running into it."

Harry hated his condescending tone. He of course knew about assessing a situation before running in. Contrary to popular belief, he did not run blindly into situations. Oftentimes, he was the only one that had the knowledge necessary to succeed, or the adults didn't believe him—like tonight, or the night that he saved the Philosopher's Stone. He had learned very early in life to enter situations fully informed. Life with the Dursleys was tricky at best, having to judge the subtleties of each situation, most especially the moods of each person, was extremely important to saving his hide each day. Not knowing the situation led to saying or doing the wrong thing, which had potentially disastrous results.

Moody interrupted his thoughts, "Potter, what he means is that you can't be goin' off half-cocked. You have to slow down, turn down that fire under your cauldron. Your temper and your youth'll get you in trouble, sure's hell."

Dumbledore coughed ahem, and it reminded Harry scarily of Umbridge. He could tell The Supreme Mugwump in him wasn't happy about being interrupted. "Thank you, Alastor. Now, Harry, as I was saying, added to all this, the governors will not be very happy. Not only did you willfully break the rules and entered the Forbidden Forest, you left the school grounds without permission, getting five other students injured." Dumbledore paused, and took in Harry's angry expression, "Harry, this is not my opinion, I am just telling you how the School Governors will react. After Cedric Diggory's death at the Tri Wizard tournament and the usage of underage magic that is already on your record, on top of the slander that has been in the papers this past year, it will be hard for the public to accept this, even if you were right all along about Voldemort's return. You could very well be expelled for this."

Snape looked positively gleeful. By now, it seemed, he had learned that it was best to hold his tongue in front of the Headmaster. No doubt Harry would be hearing it from it later, though. Professor Dumbledore continued, "Harry, I am very sorry about this, my boy, but I believe it would be best if I sent you home tomorrow. I believe it will appease the School Governors, and they will not expel you. There are only a few days left in school, but I believe it will make all the difference."

"Oh, please, sir, it's just a few days, can I stay?" Harry pleaded, "I'd like to see my friends and say goodbye to everyone. It can't make that much of a difference, can it, sir?"

Harry didn't want to go home at all. If he went home early, the Dursleys would know that he was being sent home early for a reason, and would surely punish him for his 'bad behavior.'

Professor Snape scoffed. It seemed he thought that Harry's act was too dramatic. Harry ignored him.

"No, Harry, I believe it would be for the best if you went home. I think I can allow you to stay till tomorrow evening, but you must be gone after dinner. That is the best I can do." He said it with such a tone of finality that Harry knew there would be no getting himself out of this one.

Harry noted that by 'tomorrow evening,' Professor Dumbledore meant 'later tonight,' so even though it sounded like he had loads of time, between sleeping and packing he hardly had any time at all before he had to leave.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, do you have any questions?"

Harry hesitated, unsure whether to bring it up in front of all these people. It was a delicate matter, and intensely private as well. He would have preferred to wait till he was alone with Dumbledore, especially considering some of the reactions he was expecting— namely from Snape, Sirius and Remus— but it had to be said.

"Well, a couple, sir. First of all, can I go to Sirius's instead of going back to the Dursleys? Please? I'll let you send me back early, but please, sir, don't make me go back there. I hate it there. Send me anywhere but there."

There, he had said it. It was as close to admitting the truth he could get without confessing outright what happened at the Dursleys. That was one thing that he was not prepared to do.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but no. You must go back to them."

"But why, sir?"

Sirius snapped out of his shock at the possibility of having Harry with him over the summer. "I am his godfather, I should be his legal guardian, at least in the magical world. Even if I'm technically on the run from the authorities, I shouldn't think that would matter just between us. I don't see why Harry can't come stay with me. I'd like to get to know him."

"Sirius, I understand your desire to get to know your godson better, and to tell you the truth, the fact that you are a convict has nothing to do with my decision to send Harry back to the Dursleys. They are his only living relatives, and so he must go there."

Harry was getting desperate. "But sir! They really— that is to say, they don't treat me very well there. I don't want to go back."

Here Snape cut in, "What, Potter, they don't cater to your every whim enough? They don't let you wander the neighborhood as much as you'd like? They don't give you enough birthday presents?"

"Shut up, Snivelly, don't talk to my godson that way!"

Dumbledore sighed and interrupted them again. Harry wanted nothing more than to prove Snape wrong. He wanted to explode and yell at him how he was really treated at 'home,' but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He knew deep down that Snape would never believe him. He was too set in his beliefs, and he wasn't going to risk the embarrassment of others knowing the abuse he suffered at home, just to tell Snape something he wouldn't listen to. So Harry just seethed silently. Snape looked smug.

"Harry, there is something that you must understand." The Headmaster began, "The night your parents were killed, your mother sacrificed herself for you. I believe it is how you were able to survive the Killing Curse. The purest, deepest love she held for you, protected you, and still does." Harry thought there was something odd about this statement, and promised to come back to it later, as Dumbledore was continuing his explanation. "As her blood was what was sacrificed for you, it is what still protects you. That is why you must return to the Dursleys, and no other reason. The blood that flows through your Aunt's veins, as well as your cousin's, is the last of the blood that flowed through your mother's veins. It protects you. As long as you call that place home, and are able to return to it at least once a year to renew the blood protections, your mother's protection can continue. No matter how they treat you, Harry, I am afraid you must be sent back."

It took a while for that to sink in for Harry. Maybe if he didn't go right away, the Dursleys wouldn't know that he was being sent home early.

"Sir, can I just go with Sirius for the first part of summer and then return to the Dursleys later?"

"Harry, I think it would be best if you returned to the Dursleys right away, and then we can see about letting you visit others." And that was that.

"I understand, Professor. Maybe Harry can come later in the summer." Sirius said, resigned.

Harry sighed. He wasn't very happy about it, but it was worth a shot. Part of him was expecting this to happen, and was confirmed.

"You had another question, my boy?"

After the response to the last question, Harry didn't feel like asking another. Then, he decided that he might not get another chance to ask his question before he was shipped back home. And then when would he ask it? It was something that had been weighing on his mind all year, and he felt that now, at least, maybe Dumbledore would answer him.

"Yes… sir… er, why did you avoid looking at me all this year?"

The Headmaster sighed. "Harry, the answer to that is difficult. I do truly regret what I had to do this year. It pained me more than you know." Dumbledore paused, as if choosing his words carefully, "You see, I knew that your scar was a connection to Voldemort, and I felt that the connection was surely a two-way one. I feared that Voldemort would come to know our relationship, and would use you to get to me. I am afraid that he used Sirius instead. Your potential for loving, Harry, is very great, and he took advantage of that. I am very sorry."

Harry heard the underlying confession: Dumbledore had known that Voldemort would try to lure Harry into a trap this year, using someone that he loved, and didn't warn Harry. What's more, the reason he didn't tell Harry of this was because he thought it could be himself that Voldemort used. But instead Sirius was used, and everyone else paid the price. If he had just told Harry from the beginning about his suspicions, Harry would have worked harder at Occlumency, and wouldn't have fallen for the trap tonight. All because of Dumbledore and his damn tight lipped ways! He only told people the important information when he thought they needed to know—which was sometimes after the fact. And the Headmaster wasn't a stupid man. He must have figured out what sort of treatment Harry received at the Dursleys, especially from what Harry had just alluded to in his earlier confession, even it wasn't a full confession. And he was still sending Harry back to the Dursleys!

Harry was furious, and he felt helpless all at the same time. He had known his night wasn't going to go well, but he hadn't expected it to go this badly. He was so angry and frustrated that he could feel tears welling in his eyes. He refused to let them fall. Harry was almost vindictively glad that he had lied earlier. It was his own private 'Screw You!' If he had felt at all bad before about lying about his encounter, he definitely didn't now. In fact, it was kind of like giving Dumbledore a taste of his own medicine. Heh.

Harry looked at Remus. He had been awfully quiet the entire night. He had just sat next to Harry, staring at him and at Dumbledore. Maybe Remus was still unsure enough about what he thought he had smelled to not say anything. If anyone were to know the truth about his actions tonight, it would be Remus. He seemed unsure about what he had smelled, but Harry knew that with some thought, and maybe a pensieve, Remus could know the truth.

Harry wasn't sure what to think of his former Professor. He seemed to agree with Dumbledore and Snape and Moody, at least about the recklessness of Harry's actions, but he had always seemed like the most contemplating Marauder. Harry supposed he could see where someone so cautious and prone to contemplation as Remus could think that Harry was acting irresponsibly. It did still hurt on a level that Remus had taken their side over his, as immature as that sounded. But on the other hand, Remus hadn't yet ratted him out by looking more deeply at what had happened at the Ministry. Harry wasn't sure if it was deliberate, but he was grateful all the same.

Speaking of being ratted out, Harry was perplexed by Bill's actions. Not that he was going to complain. He was sick of being treated like a child. Bill was just treating him like an adult, following his lead in all of this. He appreciated that a lot. And Bill seemed to neither approve nor condemn Harry's actions that night. Even when he had caught them naked, laying together and covered in cum, he seemed shocked more than anything. He hadn't said one word against it at all, in fact. Harry was also puzzled by some of Bill's reactions that night to what was being said. He seemed to disapprove of Dumbledore's actions, and even looked a little angry. Harry figured that there must be some underlying reason for the tension.

Harry's gaze shifted to Snape, lurking in the corner. Everyone was waiting in awkward silence while Dumbledore penned a letter. Snape's expression had been thunderous all night. No doubt he thought Harry running off to save Sirius Black of all people from the Dark Lord Voldemort was the height of Gryffindor arrogance and stupidity. Harry was sure that tonight had solidified his hate of Harry in his mind. Harry couldn't really bring himself to care beyond the fact that Snape would now probably find even more ways to make Harry's life more miserable than it already was. And that was saying something.

Harry then looked at Mad-Eye Moody. He stood in the far corner, facing the door. Old habits died hard, Harry supposed. Harry assumed, at least from Moody's comments tonight, that he thought Harry to be young, temperamental and impetuous. This wasn't necessarily false, nor was it a bad thing, but to Moody it did seem as such.

Last in his perusing of the office came Sirius. Good old Sirius, who was willing to risk his cover, and indeed his life, to save Harry— who, ironically enough, had been risking his own life for Sirius. What a pair they were. He had sat next to Harry the entire meeting, lending silent support. He seemed to be the only one in the room that believed what Harry had done had been right. Then again, maybe it was because it was Sirius himself who he thought he was saving. But it did seem to fit in to his personality. Loyal, fun loving, and daring. Sirius almost seemed proud. It was quite a contrast to the rest of the adults in the room. Harry wasn't quite sure what he thought about that.

Harry returned from his musing to hear Sirius talking to Dumbledore about the logistics of getting Harry back to the Dursleys. The Headmaster turned to him.

"Harry, I believe you should get checked out by Madame Pomfrey. You will find that your friends are already being treated in the Hospital Wing. Sirius, Remus, if you would stay?"

Harry knew a dismissal when he heard one. He stood and was halfway to the door when he suddenly remembered.

"Sir! May I hear what the prophecy has to say?"

"Not yet, Harry. You have many things to do tonight before you must leave tomorrow."

"But sir, you just said that I should grow up, make informed decisions. Doesn't this include that?"

"Yes, it does, Harry. But I believe you can enjoy this last summer before I show it to you. Enjoy your youth, Harry."

"Sir, I really think I should know this. Whether I figure it out now, or after the summer, I'll be worrying about it all summer anyway."

"Practice your Occlumency first, and then we shall see."

Shot down again. He supposed he could see the benefit of learning to perfect his Occlumency before hearing the prophecy, but at this point, it just felt like another thing that Dumbledore was keeping from him, another letdown in a series of many for the night.

Sorry if that chapter seemed a little long for you, but I felt it was necessary to establish the relationship between Harry the other characters. I also wanted to put Harry admitting to them all the treatment he receives at the Dursleys, but I figured that he wouldn't do that. People in those situations, I think wouldn't be so ready to admit things. I also think that Harry is a private person, and wouldn't be willing to admit it as readily as he does in other stories. I'm trying to make this story as natural as possible, so sorry if that makes it seem 'slow,' in contrast to some other fics out there.

-Boom.