K..So you see I was bored...and me and my sister got into a conspiracy theory argument over Harry Potter… and I decided that I could be kick ass an write my own story…that she'll read…
Now, I'm not English, British, Scottish, Irish….just no –ish at the end of my heritage. Take pity on my poor, poor overachieving soul with all the clichés I may pull out of my head…
You know you love me…..
Lucius Malfoy stared across the table in absolute shock. His wife was making a soft choking sound from his right. His son was shaking him roughly at his left. Had he been in his right mind, he would have scolded the boy for his lack of decorum. Malfoy's were nothing but perfect damnit. Instead, he was staring into green, green eyes framed with too thick eyelashes. Their owner's pale pink mouth was twisted into a knowing smirk.
"You understand, don't you?"
Lucius shook his head. The boy's lips quirked into a mocking smile.
"It's simple, really. Sirius Black was my godfather. I was also his adopted son and heir in case he didn't survive the, ah, war. Do you follow so far?" The dry tone that fell from the boy's mouth was comparable to Severus's. Lucius nodded. "When he died, his guardianship was passed along the Black line. The Tonks, I believe, are currently dealing with their own child. It's almost time to send her to ah…Hogwarts?" The boy frowned. "Narcissa Lyra Malfoy nee Black became my guardian. I would have stayed with the Dursley's but alas, they're dead."
There was something cold in the way the boy said that. And sarcastic.
"So I'm to be placed in your care. I took the liberty of stopping by the bank and library to read up on your family. Imagine my surprise at the bank when I found an old clause in the Black and Malfoy lines. Seems that a separation happened some centuries ago. Black bet the Malfoy's would rejoin the main line. He thought that it would be for money, and thus a bet was born. Had you paid a price for Narcissa Black, you would have claimed all the Black funds…but you, silly man; you took her dowry and everything Malfoy became Black."
Narcissa bit back a wail. A keening sound still escaped. Lucius blinked.
"So nothing is ours."
"You have you awe-inspiring name. Such as it is." A sly grin curled the boy's lips. "But if you take me in, teach me your ways, the higher class ways, correctly, and keep me alive, I can be persuaded to fund your family. If not, I'm sure a public announcement will ensure your fall from grace." The boy pushed a strand of hair from his face delicately. "Should I be betrayed in any way or die before what I believe is my time, the money will vanish and your family will be ousted. Will I stay?"
Lucius swallowed and nodded. The imp grinned brightly. It softened the lines of his face into those of a child. The boy ran a hand through his hair and dragged his glasses down. The glasses swallowed half of his almost painfully pretty face.
"'Fessor Dumledore!! 'Fessor!"The boy shot him a sly smile that vanished when the door opened. The elderly wizard swept in, his gaze sweeping over the boy.
"Is everything alright?"
"He said he'll take me. I can do the laun'ry and cook and garden and clean in exchange! I just have to follow all the rules so I don't go to the ophranage, orphranage, orphan…that other place!" The young boy beamed up at the old man sweetly.
Dumbledore nodded.
"Well in that case, I'll leave you with your new family my boy." Dumbledore set a small bag on the table and enlarged it. "Here are your belongings."
Lucius thought the man was truly barmy to miss the disgusted expression that flitted over the boy's face before vanishing behind the too bright smile.
"Thank you!"
"Now be a good boy and do whatever they tell you, okay?"
"Yes sir."
Dumbledore patted the boy's messy hair and left them in the dining room.
The Lord of All Things Well, Good and Fluffy had just left the Brat Who Should Have Died in the hands of I Was Under Imperius Death Eater Scum.
The Boy Who Lived was his ward.
He had to protect the Runt That Wouldn't Die.
And then Lucius's brain slammed into place.
A six year old had just blackmailed him into being his guardian.
Harry Potter was Slytherin no matter how Gryffindor the world thought he was.
Harry smirked up at him as he pulled his glasses off and tossed them carelessly next to the knapsack.
"Wasn't that kind of him, sir?"
Narcissa let out a shuddering sob.
Draco pouted.
Potter winked.
Lucius stared.
What the hell was wrong in the world?
Chappie 2
Harry looked around the Alley, bemused. It was his second visit in a week, the first being the very first time he had ever set foot in Diagon Alley. And he had been restricted to the Library and Gringotts. The Alley was full of odd people and things he had never dreamed of seeing.
"Madame Malkin will provide you with a wardrobe befitting your status."
"Hmm."
"It will be temporary, until we find something better." Harry peered up at the blonde man through his glasses.
"Why temporary?"
"Her clothes are not up to our status."
"Ah, you think I need to be like you. Dressed to my teeth and looking the grand queen." Lucius frowned. He was sure there was an insult in that statement. "Tell me, what are you dressed in?"
"Water silk."
"Hmm…"
"Will you take it away?"
"No." Lucius's frowned deepened at the wicked grin that flitted across the boy's face. "I merely will put you in something more…your station in life."
"Truly?"
"Come along sir."
"Do I sense contempt? May haps a certain disregard for authority?"
"Do I sense poverty?" Lucius stiffened. "I don't take kindly to insults and tests anymore. Ask the Dursleys."
"Whatever happened to those Muggles?" A faint bite of amusement wound its way through his words. Harry's gaze slid to him, faintly amused, fairly challenging.
"I killed them." Lucius started. "It's why I wasn't placed with more, how do you say, Muggles? I hate them." The final sentence was spoken coldly and then they entered the shop.
"Lord Malfoy!? What a pleasure!" Madame Malkin rushed into the room. "And who is this dear child?" Harry looked up and smiled shyly. "Is that…It is! Harry Potter!" The shy smile vanished when all movement in the store rushed towards them. Lucius sucked in a breath when sheer power flowed over him.
"If anyone touches me, I'll hurt you." It should have sounded ridiculous, coming from such a tiny boy, but it didn't. Not with the boy's magic curling around him as it was, waiting for a threat. The mob that had formed laughed nervously in an oddly unanimous way.
"But…you're the Boy Who Lived!" Malkin made desperate grabbing motions with her fingers.
"No. I'm the Boy Whose Parents died." Harry snarled. His magic copied his actions. "And I'll cause trouble if you dare touch me. I'm not a damn plush toy." Harry turned to a brunette girl who was standing in the display window of the store. Unlike everyone else, she had merely frozen in the window to stare at the young boy. "You'll help me today. I don't feel like putting up with them."
"You're six. You shouldn't say damn."
"Fuck, shit, damn, bitch. Words that will continue to leave my mouth. The Muggles I lived with were very bad examples."
The girl frowned but stepped down from the display.
"You're six."
"Are you taking the damn commission or not?" The girl's gaze slid over to Lucius.
"Potter…"
"Fine. I'll be as nice as roses." Lucius almost snorted while the girl grinned widely. Was she daft? Roses had thorns.
"Color?"
"How the hell would I know? I'm six." The horrified expression on the girl's face did not help Lucius. He hid a snicker with a cough.
"Black, silver, wine-red, green, bronze, blue, white. In any of those shades. Browns as well."
"What?"
"You asked for pureblood etiquette. You are receiving it. Silver and black are the colors of the House of Black. Potter is bronze, brown and deep red."
The boy sulked and then his gaze slid over Lucius. He felt vaguely uncomfortable.
"Queenly aren't you?"
"Shut it Potter."
"May we go to Gringott's or the animal store after this?"
"You have all the power."
Harry snorted at the response and turned his attention to the girl who had reappeared with bolts of fabric.
"These are our highest quality fabrics."
Lucius ran his finger down a bolt that Harry pushed towards him. He frowned when he felt that it was smoother and softer than what he was wearing.
"You were ripped off sir." Harry shoved the bolt back to the girl, who was still frowning at the six year old.
"Bring the colors." Lucius snapped. The girl nodded and raised her wand. Soon, the bolts of colors were flying towards them. They stopped behind her and she motioned to an oddly shaped section of the floor. Harry stepped on it and let out a sound of surprise as it shot up into the air. It stopped after growing three feet and Harry glared at it. The girl let out a snort and Harry's glare turned to her.
"D'you think it was funny to do that to a person raised with Muggles? How…cruel." The color in the girl's face washed out.
"I'm so sorry. I hadn't thought of it." Harry turned away from her silently and she bit her lip. Soon, she was measuring him as Lucius went through the bolts of color. They finished at the same time, and Harry snorted at the large assortment of colors that had been swept through.
"Don't even." Harry peered up at him innocently.
"Yes, your highness."
Bloody Slytherin wanker. Wait, no. He was a Slytherin. Damn the runt!
"I need a haircut."
Lucius couldn't help the grin that took over his face.
"Head of Houses don't cut their hair. Why do you think I wear mine long?"
When Potter met his eyes, he had a feeling he didn't want to know.
It was past noon when they left Malkin's, burdened with a shrunken pouch of the start of Harry's wardrobe. Lucius walked away, only to realize that the boy had stopped in front of Seeing/Believing.
"I thought you did not require glasses."
"I wear these don't I?"
"Why is that?"
"False weakness. These are hideous. And Muggle."
"You can't simply get a new pair because you want them."
Harry looked up at him and smiled. It was sweet and dimpled and wholesomely good.
"Wanna bet?" The brat walked into the store and exited twenty minutes later with the frames of his choosing.
"How in the hell did you trick the spell?"
"Whoever said I did?"
"You should have to wear glasses with eye problems like those!"
"Magic, I've found; does odd things when it's necessary." And Lucius understood. They boy's eyesight was as close to perfect as it could get off the records, but once recorded, it showed myopia so bad that the Healer had quietly told him that it would be impossible to fix his eyesight in one go. In fact, the Healer had whispered to the elder man that the Boy Who Lived would always need glasses. They thought it had something to do with the rebounded curse. "No one ever cared to make it better, so I fixed it."
"Won't it ever show?"
"Had I wanted it to, it would have. Now that I know what it is, I can happily state that my magic watches over me. It's rather protective."
Lucius remembered the snarling snapping feel of the magic the boy had wielded at Madame Malkin's. He could believe it. He glanced down at the little boy whose face flickered from guarded to unguarded with a wariness that was disconcerting. What had happened to the child to make him so cruel and deceitful in life already? He was but six, and already the word games he played astounded him. And it was hard to astound a Malfoy when using word games. Suddenly, the boy's eyes lit up.
"Do you still wish to go to the Emporium?"
"Yes!" Green eyes slid upwards to search Lucius's face and the small boy composed himself. "May we?" Lucius nodded and led the way to the store. He pushed the door open and ushered the boy in.
"I will wait out here. I refuse to go into such a dank hovel." He sniffed haughtily and walked away. He refused to acknowledge the amused look the Potter child had shot him before he had disappeared into the store. When the boy walked out half an hour later, he was wearing a faintly bemused expression.
"Sir?"
"What took such a length of time?"
Pale pink lips twisted into a dazed smile.
"There was a miniature dragon in there. It would not let me leave without it. He was followed by a color changing snake that kept hiding itself in my shirt. And then there was the mamba that would not go away after it crawled up my leg. I had to buy them."
Lucius stared.
… the hell?
"When it is time to buy you a familiar, I doubt you will be returned to this store."
"When I get my familiar, you're picking it out for me." Harry glared at the snake that was curled possessively around his leg. "Can we go, sir?"
"You do not fit in to the Alley's wanted décor with those snakes hanging around you. We shall leave." Lucius held out his hand. Harry touched his palm almost minutely, he knew from earlier that morning that he would be taken with Lucius when he apparated. They disapparated in a loud crack, and reappeared inside the Manor. Hisses rose and surrounded them, the snakes and dragon displeased with their method of travel. Lucius backed away quickly, hoping the snakes would spare the young child. Because of the money. His steps faltered when a smoother hiss rose over the others. Potter's voice hissed and breathed and curled its way into his stomach. Lucius shuddered when he felt a low burn of desire caused by the ancient language before anger surged through his veins.
'Twas bad enough the Brat Who was Six was overly pretty, snarky and crude; it was worse he was a Slytherin so thoroughly he fit into the Malfoy traditions in a day and it all but leaked from his ears, it was despicable that the boy had killed his (Muggle) relative, did he really need to be a Parselmouth on top of it all? Lucius wanted to be a parselmouth. He'd give up his third daughter for such a gift. Of course, he had only ever planned to have one child and a third daughter was truly useless to the grand scheme of political maneuvering. But she would be of Malfoy blood, damnit, and that was freaking special!
Lucius sighed.
Smug little bastard had all the luck. He walked away, his special cane slamming into the ground. He resisted the urge to spin around and crucio the Brat into the ground.
The Bloody Brat he Wanted to Torture snickered. Lucius spun.
"May I inquire as to what it is you find so amusing?" He drawled coolly.
"You may." Lucius let out a polite cough when the boy didn't continue. "I need not answer."
Lucius stalked out of the room, gracefully, laughter chasing him. He hated the Boy Who Had an Ability He'd Give his Third (unimportant) Daughter Away For. Lucius blinked. He wondered how ways he could abuse the title of the Boy Who Lived. Oh yes, he'd get his revenge on the Boy Who Would Be Annoyed.
Lucius bit his lip.
Maybe Narcissa would help.
The next three years sped by quickly and yet not quickly enough. When Draco was eight, he fell victim to a disease that none knew how to cure. He came seconds away from dying, only to return to perfect health before he rattled out his last breath. Harry had blown up many times over the years at Snape, he took every opportunity to needle the child about his parents. Alas, the Potions Master stopped visiting after a while when he realized that magic chose Harry over him in power. After the boy had broken through his shield spells in a fit of rage and all but crushed him to death, he avoided the boy with a passion... for a month or two, and then his mouth took over again. The Boy Who Was Snarky Enough to Outsnark Severus Snape was entertaining to be around. Harry's hair had grown to his shoulders. It would have been longer, but the child had gotten angry when he had been mistaken as a girl and had cut it. When the scissors had been taken from him, they had attacked their holder with a passion. Narcissa was still missing three inches of her hair that would not grow back at all, unless a political function came up and then it returned to its former glory only to reshrink to its butchered state.
The Boy Who Was a Freaking Genius with All Things Financial had managed to triple his wealth. Of course, secretly, it was the Goblins who did all the work. No one ever asked the Goblins for help, just like no one had ever been named Friend, a bastardized version of ambassador for the grumpy folks that came with overwhelmingly sickening benefits. No one, except Dumbldore, learned how to speak to Goblins in their native language; but Harry did, for the main purpose of insulting their race. In an astounding match of insults, Harry had beat the Goblin Head out in wit and had become friends with the man…uh, male.
But the Boy Who Was Still Alive Somehow by Miracle, especially after the run in with the vampires when he was seven and a half a week before Draco's eighth birthday, had done it all and survived and freaking thrived! And he had a personalized cart at Gringott's that actually went slower than the rest…or faster depending on his mood, had a custom wand made before his time and had dragged Draco along to get his own, was given lesson by the Goblins in anything he yearned for…which he dragged Draco to for the pure joy of seeing the small blond squeal like a girl when the Goblin teacher attacked, aaannd had somehow managed to find that someone had been siphoning away his funds.
Lucius didn't understand how the last thing happened seeing as his funds were poured into on an almost daily basis.
Freaking Goblins were anal about their gold.
And the Boy Who Still Had a Rare and Powerful Talent That He Would Sell Bellatrix (noticeably a female from the Black lineage that he didn't like at all) Into a Prostitution Ring For had all but moved into Gringotts to find out who the culprit was.
Lucius hated the Goblins.
They stole his freaking toy away. He still had Draco, but it wasn't the same. For instance, Draco would never coat him in sugar water and bury him up to his neck in a fire ants nest and leave him after aggravating said ants. Draco preferred to toss him into the Amazon with starving piranhas when angry. Ah, childhood fits of anger that powerful children had….
But then, the Dark Lord (Dark Doof) himself had never thought of such imaginative and torturous techniques. It was always crucio, crucio, crucio. Where was the flipping variety in that toss up?
Lucius glare darkened as his fireplace failed to glow green and spit out the Boy Who Needed To Get His Ass Home…er…purely for torturous and deadly dark reasons. 'Twasn't like Lucius actually cared what happened to the boy…. He almost pouted when he felt Narcissa rest her hand on his shoulder. She had come to end his nightly vigil over the fireplace again. Sighing heavily, he stood and made his way to their bedroom. He noted Narcissa looking over her shoulder sadly, and made a mental note to tease for daring to actually like the Evil Snot Nosed Little Brat Who Blackmailed His Way Into Their Lives. Stupid kid.
