'Harry Potter, Lucius/Harry (or Draco/Harry), It's difficult to adjust to the new order of things after Voldemort's victory, but there is someone always there to 'help'.'
Drink To Me Only With Thine Eyes
Three months after Voldemort's victory, Harry Potter arrives at Malfoy Manor in a small convoy of the Dark Lord's most loyal, clothed in rags, stripped of his wand, his magic suppressed, but his eyes still blazing.
Lucius, restored to his rightful place at the Dark Lord's side, has seen greater challenges than this before.
First, he orders the house-elves to bathe and dress Potter appropriately. Guests at the Manor are expected to behave according to a certain standard, and Potter's current personal grooming and attire does not meet it. He picks out the robes himself - dark green velvet, embroidered knotwork picked out in silver thread. He actually looks better in red, but the symbolism is too fitting to pass up.
He tells Potter a little more of what is expected of him now over dinner in the large, ornate dining room, magically designed to fit more than fifty, but currently shrunk to play host only to the two of them.
"Of course," he says, delicately cutting into his ossobuco, "I realise that you are unlikely to know all the codes of conduct, due to your...unusual upbringing. But it is of no concern - you have been taken into this family precisely so that you may learn them. I can assure you that we will educate you in a fitting manner."
At the other end of the table Potter sits, mute and furious. That particular combination of Silencing and Sticking Charms has worked marvellously to both tie him to his seat and prevent him from talking back. Lucius had many an occasion to use it on Draco, back in the day.
Lucius stands suddenly, taking up his goblet of Bordeaux to walk the length of the table to stand by Potter, who looks up at him with gratifyingly wide eyes, which quickly narrow again. He tenses, but he doesn't flinch away - too stubborn to show weakness still.
Carefully, Lucius brings the cup to Potter's cracked lips. Potter presses them together. He must be thirsty, but he's too proud - but then, so was Draco. Lucius knows well how to handle this.
He grips Potter's chin in his hand; firmly, but not intending to bruise. A word - Aperio - and Potter's lips part. Not wide, just enough for Lucius to tip the goblet to let the wine flow into his mouth. He makes him swallow it, too - wouldn't want their guest to choke. All through it, Potter's eyes are fixed on him. His cheeks are flushed with the humiliation at being forced like this, like a child, given no control over his own movements, but he is still proud and there are still no tears in his eyes. But he thinks he sees what might be confusion, uncertainity.
He can work with that. Again carefully, Lucius takes the goblet away and sets it down. He presses his thumb to the corner of Potter's mouth, as if to wipe away a smear of wine, although there is none. He leans in close:
"This is the beginning of your education, Mr. Potter." He smiles beatifically, like the patron whose role he is mimicking. "It may be difficult at first, but I assure you - we have all the time in the world."