Before The Next Teardrop Falls, a harry potter fanfic

Disclaimer: Yes, yes!! Every-bloody-thing is mine…. In my dreams, that is! :)

Now, I KNOW I should be working on my other stories, but this bunny popped by this Easter & won't bugger unless I post! So here I am guys, giving it to you so I can finally get rid of it! (-)

Before The Next Teardrop Falls

The man was graceful and Harry had to give him that. Even with his currently blurred mind he could still remember the few times he had been around the Malfoy patriarch. Take the Quidditch World Cup. Tough he had been pretty infuriated by him back then he could not help but notice the finesse with which this man could jibe and insult Arthur Wesley while still making it seem he was having a perfectly polite conversation.

And there had been one other time he had seen Malfoy-the-father but that time they had not interacted. He had been to busy trying to escape the Voldemort and bring Cedric back to...no… he was not thinking about it again. That had been the entire point of getting drunk. Forget. Now, if he could only focus on Malfoy. Damn, did he really have to move all the time?

Lucius eyed the young boy in front of him carefully. It was most lucky it had been his son who had found the silly child. Who knows what could have happened to him in such a state. Yet the question remained. Whatever had possessed the boy to get that drunk was beyond Lucius.

"You're staring at me!" the boy more slurred that stated.

"I am merely trying to figure you out!" Lucius spoke casually.

"Oh. When you do find out, please tell me. I'm trying to get it myself for the last, let's say, 12 years… but I never quite got to the bottom of things, you see… and people have always been kind enough to help me with that tiny issue – not that I've asked for their help, mind you – but they have a tendency to come with sooooo many different conclusions…."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. The boy was rambling about his teenage insecurities to a Death Eater and the Dark Lord's right hand at that.

"….you see, I could write a book on who people concluded I am… yah, that would do… I'm quite the paradox ya' know…"

The boy was beginning to relax in his company. Lucius secretly smirked. Merlin must have loved him. How else would his son have gone to the exact muggle bar Potter was in? And got Potter out of trouble by paying for the boy's whiskey since Potter had consumed more than he could have afforded. Sure, he had been offended at first that his son would do such things, but when the boy brought Potter home because the teen could not clearly utter his address to the taxi driver… well… that had changed things a lot.

"Excuse my rudeness, Mr. Potter, but I find it hard to believe. So many contradictions on your condition..." Why not humor the boy, maybe he could get more information of Potter if he played interested and ...

"Perhaps you would care to elaborate over a glass of wine?"

The boy smiled widely at him.

"Sure."

He was trapped. Lucius poured him a glass of the finest wine and listened to the boy's rambling about Snape, Dumbledore, his relatives, his friends… It was then when all clicked into place. Potter was one of the most unsure and easy to manipulate children he had ever seen. Thank Dumbledore for that: for placing the boy in a hom- no, house where he was anything but wanted, for letting Severus vent his frustrations on Potter, for keeping things from Potter and the list could go on. Now if he only played his cards right…

"Mr. Potter, do you not think the Order might know of your habit of running away to drink yourself to sleep in pubs?"

Lucius' intervention was so abrupt that Harry actually had to take time to process it. Then his eyes went large.

"How do you know?"

Lucius smirked.

"Just put two and two together. What would a boy do in bar late at night, all by himself? And from what I gathered from my son people seemed to know you back there. Add to this the fact that no untrained teenager can hold his alcohol like you can and tell me if you do not reach the same conclusion."

"Well, if you put it this way…" The boy slurred. Then he shook he head vigorously. "But they can't know… Would have done something… save their wonder boy" There was so much venom in the last too words that Lucius could almost taste it. But what came next made him freeze.

"…helped me, wouldn't they?" and the fear in those green eyes had Lucius wondering to what extent this boy had been damaged. There was fear that the Order, his friends would have let him drown even if they had known, just like they let him go back to the Dursleys even if they knew he was anything but happy there.

"I presume they would and will once they notice."

Harry only nodded.

"Do they not have someone watching over you?"

Harry laughed out loud at that.

"Sure they do, but you can imagine the quality of those people if I can dispose of them!"

Only years of training stopped Lucius from dropping the glass he was holding.

"Excuse me Mr. Potter, did you just say you 'dispose' of them?"

Harry found himself laughing again. "Not in that way." He shook his head smiling. " I usually bribe them or talk them out of following me or simply get lost in some labyrinth streets of London while seemingly wandering."

Lucius was practically gaping at him. Harry chuckled.

"Oh, come on! What would you have done if those guarding you were people like Mundungus or Miss Figg or some young Aurors. Only time I couldn't get away was when Snape took some Auror's place."

Now if Lucius didn't know any better he could have sworn the boy was a Slytherin. He poured the boy the third glass of wine.

"Humor me, Mr. Potter. How is it you can tell who is watching over you? My humble experience taught me that guards of any type do not usually stay in the open for everyone to see."

Harry's smile widened as he drank the wine in two large gulps. His eyes became even more unfocused but he still answered the question.

"You're rrright. Yet! Not all people – I mean save from Vol- vlod- Vmo- eh, your lord – can speak prs- parsl-…"

"Parseltongue." Lucius supplied.

"That's it." Harry exclaimed triumphantly. "Snakes sense anyone with their forked tongues, the little buggers, and tell me. I feed them." He said proudly.

Lucius nodded and made to pour another glass of wine. However once he turned to hand it to Harry, the boy had already passed out. The Malfoy senior sighed. He put one arm under the boy's knees and the other around his shoulders and proceeded to take him to Draco's room. His son. Lucius was very proud of him. Draco had brought Potter to one of their summer houses in Scotland by portkey, just in case there was someone watching over Potter. Once he made sure everything was all right he had Flooed his father to come over.

The house was small compared to the manor, but Lucius tended to like it better. Two bedrooms, a living room, a study, a small library, a kitchen and two bathrooms, plus the dungeons and the attic. He finally reached one of the two bedrooms and called.

"Draco, open the door."

A couple of seconds later the door was opened to reveal his son's worried face. Lucius got in and laid Potter on the right side of the foster bed.

"What happened to him?" Whispered Draco.

"He passed out. There's only so much alcohol that one can hold."

Draco nodded.

"What happens now, though? Someone is bound to be looking for him."

Lucius magically took the boy's trainers and glasses off.

"It depends. From what I gathered, he appears far from the pampered little prince Severus made him seem."

Draco's eyes widened in surprise for a second.

"He's been severely neglected and seeks acceptance of who he is. Not to mention something tells me he would die for a proper praise. Dumbledore, the old fool, keeps things from the boy in order to protect him. He seems to have restricted the contacts his friends or that mutt of a godfather had with him to a few pour letters. His biggest mistake as Potter mistook their ways of protecting him for neglect and indifference."

"Do excuse my boldness, father, but I doubt Potter would have told you all this, even inebriated."

The Malfoy senior smirked at his son.

"Indeed, he would not have. Nevertheless, I am a very skilled Legilimens. Though in his state I might as well have been an ordinary one."

"So you're telling me that Potter's getting drunk because he thinks his friends gave up on him?" Draco asked bemused.

"I suppose there is more to the story than sheer abandon. I just do not hold all details right –"

"Get to the cup! Cedric! NO! CEDRIC! Arrhhh…" Harry was trashing and screaming. Sweat was dripping from his forehead, while his scar became all the bloodier. A dark shade of blood. Lucius watched in fascination as Harry tried to wipe the blood from his scar only to have more coming out as he screamed harder.

"Fuck it all!" Draco swore and run to Potter's side as soon as the dark haired boy seemed to have stopped breathing, in a panic attack. "Father! Do something!"

This brought Lucius out of his daze. A few lazy wand movements later Harry was breathing again, though they had yet to put an end to the boy's nightmare.

"Easy there, son!" Draco's head snapped instantly to his father only to find him talking to Potter while running his hand through a mop of pitch black hair. "Focus on my voice. Do you hear my voice? Focus on it, son. Good. Clear your mind now. You can see no more. All you hear is my voice in the dark. A pleasant darkness where you can hide. Breath in and out, in and out." The Malfoy patriarch spoke softly, in a velvet-like voice which surprisingly demanded nothing more than obedience. "There's a good boy. Now, wake up!" The last two words held one strong demand and Harry opened his eyes.

He did not speak, just cried silently and enjoyed the feeling of someone caressing his hair. Lucius gave him a potion and Harry drank it, no questions asked. But he did raise his eyebrows when he was offered a handkerchief.

Lucius merely smirked and motioned for him to blow his nose and wipe his tears. As soon as he was done with that Harry felt the wings of sleep embrace him and a couple of minutes later he had fallen into a dreamless sleep.

Lucius turned to his son.

"He is powerful, Draco. I have seen it in the graveyard that night. Imagine where he can get with the proper training."

"But the Dark Lord defeated death…" Draco trailed of unsure.

" The Dark Lord stands close to no chances. I can testify to that, son. Not to mention it is outrageous that he kills his followers just as he kills his enemies. His main aims have become immortality and the murder of Harry Potter."

Draco believed his father.

"Now, why would we want to follow a madman that is bound to loose. And why let fools such as Dumbledore train Potter when he could become a real pureblood?"

So what his father wanted to say was that…

"Precisely, Draco. I intend to train Potter myself."

"But, father, he's never going to listen to you!" the 14-years-old tried to talk some sense into his father.

"Yes, he will son! He already did."

"But, but this was different! Potter was either drunk or in the middle of a nightmare."

"Trust me son, he will if I can offer him what he craves so much."

"And what would that be?"

"Someone to depend on, a place to stay safe, an adult who will not rule his life nor judge him, a resemblance of a family." Lucius drawled.

"You will not rule his life as in 'not manipulate' him? A resemblance of a family?" Draco watched his father as if he had grown two heads.

"There is quite a difference between ruling and manipulating. Though I prefer the term 'guidance' to 'manipulating'. As for a family, that is where you and your mother come in. If you wish to help me, that is."

"We will father, you know we will. You always talk us into helping you, anyway." Draco smirked.

"Good. I must go and inform your mother on the situation. Get some rest!" Lucius made sure Potter was properly covered and just sleeping. He cast one last look at Draco, as his son got under the blanket on his side of the bed, and Flooed home.

Somewhere, heard only by his familiar Nagini, Voldemort was raging. How was it possible to be thrown out of Potter's head. The boy knew nothing about Occlumency, he was sure of that. Yet Potter had somehow managed to throw him out and while sleeping no less. HOW COULD IT BE?

The night was dark and Lucius felt accomplished. His wife had been thrilled at the prospect of helping the pour mistreated child that was Harry Potter. His son looked up at him too much to ever go against his decisions, while said Harry Potter was already half in his hands after the night's events. He went to bed forgetting to ask himself what his own son had been doing in a muggle bar. And he slept well, having no notice of a blond teenage boy who smoke a cigarette outside one window in Scotland and in whose head kept playing the same scenario.

FLASHBACK

END FLASHBACK

One treacherous tear run down his cheek and he wiped it furiously with his hand since there was no one to give him a handkerchief.

AN: Well, that was it! good? bad? ugly? you're the judge. give the verdict! :)