A/N: This is an old piece. It has potential to be part of a short fic or to be a one-shot.
AU, I suppose. Also high squick content for the pairings. There's some DracoxLucius, implied HarryxDraco and possible HarryxLucius. Yes, it gets tangled. Yes, I said Draco/Lucius, as in incest. Also note that this fic features a Draco without scruples.
If you have problems with any of the afore mentioned, for the love of Merlin, please do yourself and me a favor and read something else.
"Not today. I'll be braver tomorrow, but please, I beg you, not today."
So said the title character in the movie Marie Antoinette and so Lucius wanted to repeat even now. The words were on the tip of his tongue as he clutched at his son and stared into the baleful eyes of Sirius Black. Draco stood tall and unafraid. Lucius was proud of him, was proud of the strength and dignity he showed. Lucius could not afford such dignity.
"Where are you taking my son?" he asked, tightening his grip. Anyone else would have winced, but Lucius felt Draco relax into his touch ever so slightly. It was unnoticeable to anyone, except Lucius, who wanted to cry in relief and bury his face in Draco's neck at the small gesture of trust and intimacy.
"The Ministry would like to question him," Black replied, sneering down at the boy--or so Lucius was inclined to think of Draco. In truth Draco had not been a boy for years. He was a young man now-- a killer when he was told to be, a liar when he had to be, persuasive when he wanted to be.
"Question me regarding what, Mr. Black?" Draco's tone was condescending. His face, Lucius knew, would be cold and hateful. But Draco's hands were reassuring as he discreetly patted Lucius' thigh.
"Regarding the deaths of Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger," Black replied.
"You are wasting your time. I know nothing about that," Draco replied smoothly. Draco's hand went to his chin and though he could not see his son's face, Lucius could picture the thoughtful smile slowly spreading across Draco's face-- the smile that would infuriate Black, the smile that made Draco look like an untouchable fiend. "I wasn't even sure of their fate until now. I thank you for telling me, Mr. Black. It has been an awful weight on my mind."
Lucius could barely conceal a smile as Black's face spasmed momentarily with fury. They all knew Draco was lying. Lucius had seen the knife in Draco's hand, had put it there. Draco had been swift in killing them. Draco's real victims were the ones who survived those Draco killed. It was Draco's specialty, drawing out the agony of not knowing, misplacing bodies or making sure they were excruciatingly difficult to identify. The war had ended six months ago and aurors were still finding corpses in the strangest places, sometimes within the very homes of the deceased.
But no one could prove it. Draco left no evidence, never used his own wand to perform the spells, and was immune to veritaserum. And only three people had ever known that and Draco's mother was dead.
"Be that as it may, we are still obliged to question you." A small smile came to Black's face as he said the word "question."
"No!" Lucius cried.
"No?" Black echoed.
"Yes. Draco is a minor under my care. You can't question him without my consent and I say no." Black looked Draco over.
"Your son is barely a minor. I am sure the Ministry will be willing to make adjustments for his precocity." Again that smile.
"Damn you to hell, Black! I am not letting you torture my son." Draco's back straightened again and Draco's fingers flexed at his sides. Lucius knew from experience that this was a bad sign. Draco was on the defensive. Black was too busy enjoying his role as the bearer of bad news to notice Draco's reaction.
"Now, now, Lucius. No one said anything about torture." Black was taunting him.
"You son of a bitch. If you touch him, I'll kill you. I swear it. I swear it by the wretched air filling your lungs that if you hurt my son you will live to regret it."
It was pathetic how Lucius was clinging to Draco, but Draco bore it patiently and, for Draco, patience was an expression of love- the willingness to accommodate himself to others. But when it became clear that Lucius was genuinely afraid for Draco, Draco turned and took Lucius in his arms.
"It will be alright, father." That voice was like a hard kiss. It bruised Lucius wherever it touched him and he liked to remember the sting of it afterward.
"But you are-" the most feared wizard in the world, Lucius wanted to say. Yes, even Lucius took second place to Draco. The Ministry knew how to control Lucius; Lucius always had Draco's best interests in mind. They hadn't figured out how to control Draco yet and that made him very dangerous.
"Going to return to you as soon as possible." Draco's hands touched Lucius' face. Lucius could feel the strength of them. He drew his own strength from them. He had no strength of his own left. They had taken everything from him and he was tired. Draco was his life. If Draco didn't come back- But then those strong, sure hands were moving through his hair, as if Draco could sense the panicky thoughts and was massaging them out of Lucius' skull. Lucius sighed.
"Not today. Why does it have to be today?" he whispered. It was Narcissa's birthday today, a hard day for Lucius and Draco both. "I'll be braver tomorrow, but please not today."
"You will be brave for me today, Father. Lucius. You will be brave because I need you to be."
"I don't trust them, not since Potter is heading up the investigation." Draco suppressed a small chuckle.
"Yes, he is being very Slytherin about the whole thing, isn't he? But I'm not asking you to trust them. I'm asking you to trust me. As long as you are brave, I can be brave."
Lucius closed his eyes. "Say my name again."
"Lucius." It was perfect coming from Draco, as natural as breathing. "I love you, Lucius." Softer that time, barely audible so that Black wouldn't hear it and use it against them. Lucius opened his eyes. Draco pulled him closer and kissed him. Lucius could hear Black gasp in shock. Draco smiled against Lucius' lips and pushed his tongue into Lucius' mouth and Lucius, stunned, accepted it, needing the physical contact.
"I'll be back no later than morning. Can you make it until the morning?" Draco murmured.
"If you kiss me like that again, maybe," Lucius replied. Draco chuckled.
"Maybe I should do more than just kiss you. Give Black a show he'll never forget." Lucius screwed up his nose in disdain.
"Black doesn't deserve such luck." Draco didn't reply, merely kissed Lucius again, pressing him close.
Draco released Lucius slowly, finally opening his arms and drawing back.
"Be brave today," he said. He nodded to Black, who led the way out of the cell and locked the door behind him with nothing short of demonic joy on his face. Lucius collapsed onto the nearest bed.
"I can't do this today," he whispered. He closed his eyes, biting his tongue and feeling the tears that wanted to fall. He waited, testing himself to see if he was weak enough to let them fall today. But they didn't come. He hadn't endured enough to allow himself to cry. He opened his eyes and sighed. He only had to hold out until morning.
Draco was back with the sunrise, arrogant and seemingly indestructible as he walked through the door with little to show for his pains except for a small cut above his left eyebrow and a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. His steps were steady and even as he walked through the doorway. The wave he gave a surly Black was jaunty. As soon as the door shut, he was in bed with Lucius, his arms coming to lock around Lucius' waist, his face buried in Lucius' hair.
"How are you?" he asked. His fingers slid through a gap between the buttons of Lucius' shirt. They were icy.
"Tired," Lucius replied.
"I think they will let us go soon." Lucius laughter was dark. His muscles tensed and Draco's body tensed around him in reaction.
"Why the uncharacteristic optimism?"
"It is not optimism. It is fact. They cannot convict us of anything. They cannot find any dark objects in our home, there are no Dark Marks on our arms. They didn't even catch us at the final battle. They caught us in our home the same night. " Lucius turned in the circle of Draco's arms.
"Are you being simple for my sake? They won't let us go. You should know that. Regardless of whether they have evidence or not, they think we are dangerous." Draco nuzzled his father's neck, an action that took Lucius by surprise. Last night's kiss was the exception, not the norm, and Draco was still new to physical displays of affection. He was a rather distant child.
"Are we so very dangerous, Father?" Lucius could only stare in disbelief, but he recognized the validity of the question.
"We were once," he sighed.
"But I am not a danger to anyone anymore."
"Which is exactly the logic they will use to keep us here. How can we possibly endanger anyone while we're locked up here, where we can't even use magic to wipe our arses?" Lucius whispered, furious. Draco smiled.
"Personally, I am not interested in leading a Dark uprising," Draco drawled, his leg sliding between Lucius' thighs. Lucius' breathing became irregular. "I am more interested in going back to our home, living in self-imposed exile, and fucking you whenever time permits."
"Are you alright?" Lucius asked, drawing back. Draco's grasp became firm.
"I'm fine. I just want you." He kissed Lucius, hard and demanding, his body pressed up against Lucius'.
Lucius made a small sound of surprise around Draco's tongue. Reluctantly, he pushed Draco away. "This is perfectly understandable. You are young and have yet to experience…" Lucius looked for the proper words. "The more physical aspects of a relationship." Draco laughed.
His laughter was quite different from his voice. His laughter was a soft, warm, secretive sound. Very sexy, but Lucius wasn't about to admit that to himself. "You have yet to experience the more physical aspects of a relationship," Lucius repeated firmly, wondering why the thought of his son having sex bothered him more than the thought of his son killing people for amusement.
"Yes, Father," Draco replied, his mouth quirking up at the corners. Lucius glared at him. "Don't look at me like that. I might start to think you're jealous." Lucius didn't like Draco's new tone of voice. It was still a bit hard, but it had the undertones of his laughter.
"Jealous of whom?"
"No one. Because there is no one. Never has been."
The amount of relief Lucius felt at those words was unhealthy.
"As I was saying, you are young and-"
"Randy?" Draco suggested.
"Yes, that will do. And I am the closest person, so naturally, you should-"
"Want to fuck you?" Draco's choice of words annoyed Lucius. He knew he had taught the boy better. What bothered Lucius most was how Draco said it, like he has said it often, as if he liked saying it.
"Yes," Lucius sighed.
"This has nothing to do with convenience, Lucius." His name was candy in Draco's mouth. "This is just me wanting you because you're gorgeous and you belong to me. We belong to each other."
Lucius couldn't think of a fast reply to that. He was too tired from last night's ordeal. He was too floored from this latest, but, if he was completely honest with himself, not entirely unexpected scenario. Draco didn't pursue the issue further, relaxing and letting his body sink into the bed.
"I'm not the only one who wants you, you know. He wants you too," Draco said nonchalantly. He might as well have been commenting on the weather.
"He?"
"Potter," Draco replied, blinking just a little longer than normal. Lucius knew that trick. Draco learned it from Narcissa. She used to tease her "Ice Prince" son that while love seemed to have no use for him, he could have many uses for love. She showed him how to take advantages of the features he had inherited from his parents: blinking slowly to emphasize his long lashes and clear eyes, licking his lips, saying no with a little shake of his head so that his hair would fall over his eyes. It was Draco's greatest cruelty to those he killed: they learned to love him in the end.
Even though Lucius knew that the blink was calculated, it was still effective, and that worried him. "You are dangerous," he said. "They can't be thinking of letting us go." Draco stretched, appeared to be settling down to sleep.
"Well, it's not so much 'they' as it is 'him'. He wants to let us go. He wants to let you go specifically. He doesn't think that prison agrees with you."
"I am so touched by Potter's concern," Lucius replied, voice dripping sarcasm. Draco's face was smooth and solemn.
"Perhaps we should be. If he gets us out of here-"
"He won't." It was an impossible task, even for Potter. But Draco wasn't to be dissuaded.
"If he gets us out of here, he'll want something in return," Draco said, turning to look at Lucius.
Lucius propped himself up on one elbow. He knew what Draco was thinking. If Draco was right and Potter did want Lucius, then Lucius could bargain with him. Lucius looked at Draco and saw him. He saw those sharp cheekbones, the perfect and pale lips, the lithe body, saw the blue veins beneath Draco's skin- veins containing Lucius' blood, Lucius' hopes. He'd do it because he was his son's only chance at freedom.
"Of course he will. Not even Potter is that selfless," Lucius said, settling down under the thin blanket they shared. He closed his eyes in preparation for sleep. Against the back of his eyelids, he could feel Draco smirking.
Reviews, comments, and constructive criticisms welome.
much love,
J. Silver
