Love – A Business Arrangement
Part II
Lucius waited a week until he felt ready to set foot into Hogwarts again. Tomorrow would be a Hogsmeade weekend, Draco had told him so. He had contacted Dumbledore and asked him to set up a time and place where he could meet Potter. According to Dumbledore the arrangement between his son and Potter had ended just yesterday, a relieving message from the old coot. And the boy also had agreed to speak with him.
That was at least something.
On the next morning he arrived per Floo in Dumbledore's office. It was far too cold to wander over the grounds, and with the damn brats wandering to Hogsmeade and back it would only wear down his composure and his little speech he had prepared.
With a thud he landed in Dumbledore's fireplace. With a scowl on his otherwise handsome face he brushed the soot off his travelling cloak, then mustered some politeness and greeted the old wizard.
"Good morning, Dumbledore," he said, shortly inclining his head.
"Good morning, Lucius," Dumbledore greeted back. "Do you care for some tea?"
"Yes, I do. Thank you." He strode to the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk and sat down. The warm cup in his fingers helped to lift his mood a bit – it was way too cold outside.
"Harry is already awaiting you," Dumbledore informed him. "He is in the Room of Requirement, I believe. He said that he would need the appropriate environment." His eyes twinkled merrily.
Lucius drank his tea and refused to answer. Of course he knew where that room was located. But he wasn't too sure if he could bear a bad surprise. His campaign was working with full power, and he really didn't plan to lose the chance of becoming Minister of Magic to an incompetent moron. Unfortunately there were many of them. Fudge, that complete waste of magical power, tried to get the position yet again, despite his loss of reputation. Thankfully Weasley was reasonable and didn't even try. He loved his Muggle department too much to give it up. And then there were the other four moronic candidates. They didn't even deserve to be mentioned in his opinion. Completely-moronic-wastes-of-breath-and-space.
He exhaled in controlled anger and set his cup down.
"Thank you for the tea, Dumbledore. I will take my leave. Have a good day." He got up, nodded shortly and sauntered out.
He was in the seventh floor corridor in no time. He and his friends had often used the Room of Requirement for naughty things. He couldn't suppress a grin as he thought about Severus and him in that special room, rolling around like playing whelps, kissing and stroking one another, fucking like rabbits and trying everything that was known in the art of pleasuring … yes, that room certainly had its appeal. It remained to be seen, however, if it would stay that way - or change.
The door was there because Potter awaited him, so he knocked, waited for the 'Enter' and came in.
And then he had to stop and take in the sight of the room. It was beautiful. Large windows at the faraway wall of the room let in bright streams of sunlight. A window was open, and warm air rustled through his clothes and hair. The grounds were green, not white, and old, antique furniture made the room as comfy as it could get if one had grown up as a Malfoy. He felt simply at home and relaxed a bit.
"Good morning, Mr Malfoy," said Harry and stood from a soft, white leather couch. "Give me your cloak, you will be getting warm soon."
Baffled, he allowed Potter to take his cloak and hang it away, and then he was led to the couch and offered tea and breakfast.
"You look good, Mr Malfoy," said Harry lightly. "Now that the war is over … oh, please help yourself if you want to eat something, I didn't know what you'd prefer."
"Thank you," Lucius replied dryly. He settled for tea at the moment but the rolls looked delicious.
They spent some minutes in silence, then Lucius became tired of the game and set his cup down.
"Mr Potter, I think we both know why I am here."
"Indeed," agreed Harry with a soft twitch of his lips.
"And I hope you won't consider it rude if I came down to business now."
"I won't," Harry assured him genially.
Lucius shot him a glare. The boy was infuriating him with his calm attitude! And now he calmly sliced a roll in two halves and buttered them in utmost unconcern and serenity. The worst was that Lucius couldn't quite take his eyes off that calm hands and nimble fingers. Infuriating, indeed.
"Well," he snapped, "then you obviously know that I'm here because I need your support in the upcoming election."
"Yes, I do," said Harry. Now the soft tugging in the corners of his mouth became a full blown sneer. "And what else could be the reason?"
Lucius chose to ignore him and continued. "And as Dumbledore already informed me, I most likely will be forced to come to an agreement with you in order to get his support, and yours as well."
"I think he will support you without me," replied Harry kindly. "But of course your chances are much higher if I'm the one to speak for you." His eyes looked Lucius over, and a sly grin danced around his lips. He set his roll down and looked at his visitor. "You know," he said lazily, "Draco and I became very good friends. I'm glad I know him now."
Lucius snorted. "What a friendship was that? He ordered you to become his friend if he switched sides." His facial expression became menacing, a truly frightening impression on his illustrious face. "I must say, that is a very Slytherin way to think and act."
Harry smiled. "Yes. I gave him what he wanted most." At Lucius' death glare his smile became warmer, affectionate. "I never knew that he envied me because of my friends. No, that's the wrong way to describe it. He envied it that they were my friends and not he. All those years he was a complete git, and still … as we – that's the Order and I – became desperate, I gathered my courage and came to him, asking him what I could offer so that he would join me and the side of light." His eyes never left Lucius' face. "He wanted me. And that was something I could give."
"That sounds rather wrong, Potter," Lucius sneered. "As if you were whoring yourself."
"In a way I did," Harry admitted. "Of course the hate between Draco and me was so strong that I didn't believe we could ever come to an understanding. But very soon I learned how hurt he was, and how much he longed to be my friend." He shook his head in disbelief, as if it was the first time he spoke openly about this bizarre business arrangement. Maybe it was. Then he looked at Lucius again, and his bright eyes shocked the air out of his lungs. "It is said that there is just a thin line between love and hate, and that hate can become love and vice versa in just a heartbeat. It was never truer than between the two of us."
"But why did Draco choose to betray me, his family?"
"Oh come on, honestly, what family? Narcissa was a bitch and you know it. She cheated on you like you on her, and she never cared for Draco. It was a loveless marriage, and I don't think you regret one bit that she's dead now."
"No," Lucius sneered smugly. "You're right, I don't, so – why should I?"
"I never said you should," replied Harry patiently. "But you weren't his family, either. You were always busy – don't think I never noticed that Draco was only spoiled like that because you tried to calm him with nice toys. You were preoccupied with other people … Voldemort, for example. Of course that hurt."
Lucius thought about that, and then inclined his head a bit which meant as much as a slight shrug. Malfoys didn't shrug, after all.
"This is how Malfoys are brought up," he said. "But I still don't understand how you of all people could lure him into the light."
"It was remarkably easy," answered Harry thoughtfully. "He needed someone to talk to. The pressure in Slytherin became unbearable, everybody in school noticed that. The other houses had candidates for the Death Eater ranks as well, but nowhere as much as in Slytherin." He sighed, then picked up the half of his roll and started to eat it. "He hated Voldemort."
"Now I know," growled Lucius.
"He did a lot of things which certainly let you believe that he wanted to help Voldemort, but in reality he was fixated on me. He partnered with Umbridge to make my life difficult. He hated the old toad with a fashion, you know. Oh, I remember the night where he told me that it was him who put the first Niffler in her office. I laughed my head off."
Pieces of a puzzle seemed to come together in Lucius' head, and he remained silent in shocked wonderment.
"He hated everyone who thought of him as a willing puppy which would obey every silly order. He only – and that's his true Slytherin side – chose those sides in order to protect his school carrier and his own life in the end. That he could taunt me with it was just an added bonus."
"That's my son," replied Lucius a little weakly. "But why did he hate Voldemort?"
"He was a rebel," said Harry as if it explained all. And it did. "You liked Voldie because you had certain goals – I still don't understand which if I'm honest – and he hated him because you devoted all of your time to him. He just wanted his father, and if you had been there for him, maybe he had followed you, I don't know. I'm glad he didn't." Harry shrugged and ate the last bite of his roll. "You should try these, they're delicious."
Lucius was irritated. "So it's about me being a bad father? Fine, I can live with that. It saved my life, didn't it?" He took a roll, too, and broke it. Then he slathered butter on it and started to eat unceremoniously. Harry watched him amusedly.
"You are agitated," he said softly. "Is it because I befriended Draco, or is it because I killed Voldemort?"
"Both," said Lucius in an unfriendly tone. "Do you realize by any chance that you took two great and important parts of my life from me? And these are really good."
"I guess I did," Harry admitted, "but I prefer to be alive and well, as does the rest of the Wizarding World." He smiled. "I knew you would like them. They're handmade by Dobby. He uses cinnamon." He took another one himself and put some ham on the one half and some honey on the other.
They ate in silence, each man thinking about the conversation so far which had been more like a confession or interrogation than a business talk. But Harry knew he would get to this now. After eating they settled back.
"And I do prefer to see the world in a more competent hand than Fudge's. Really, that man is driving me insane." He smiled again. "It's your lucky day, Mr Malfoy, because I happen to think that you could exactly be the man I was looking for. I read your pamphlets, and I must admit I'm impressed; you're aiming for all the goals I have in mind myself. Besides, you're strong, demanding, ruthless, intimidating … the list is endless, believe me. And for a job like that exactly what is needed." He sat straight and stared the blonde once more in the cool, grey eyes. "But despite all your good qualities I,of course, have some conditions."
"Oh no," Lucius mock sighed. "More conditions." He looked morosely at the table and wished himself a bottle of brandy. "Oh dear Merlin, exactly what I need," he muttered as he spotted one on the overly full breakfast table.
"Already drinking?" mocked Harry. He pushed some long strands of black hair back and smirked. "Now … it isn't too bad what I want, really."
"I can't wait to hear," mumbled Lucius, loosening his tie.
"First of all there's the dire need of me to meddle with certain Ministry goals, such as the laws for and against half-human or non-human creatures, the handling of prisoners, the treatment of Ministry employers, the treatment of Muggleborns among the pure blooded wizards of society and so forth."
"Astounding of what you were able to think in such a short amount of time," snarled Lucius. "But if I may be honest, I'm not surprised. I just never expected you to be into politics."
"Well," said Harry airily and shrugged, "Things change. After so much death I don't want to become an Auror. And since the world is halfway safe now I am free to go wherever I please. And I have plenty of money to do so."
"So there's no possibility to bribe you," Lucius concluded bitterly. "Your plan is quite clear, but that's not all, am I not right?"
"Right," Harry grinned. "But actually I could do with some bribery. It's just the thing you are going to corrupt me with that's important."
Lucius almost shot out of the soft couch. But he caught himself just in time and sat back down heavily and stared at Harry in deep wonderment. "What could that be?" he asked disbelievingly. "You said you have enough money, what else would you want? Isn't the Weasley tribe your family?"
"That's right, yes," said Harry slowly, glaring at the blonde. "But I would prefer it if you wouldn't call them tribe. That sounds so … uncivilised."
The pale grey eyes glittered mockingly. "And with what could I corrupt you, Harry Potter?" That came out like a purr, a deep purr.
"A family, affection, whatever you want," said Harry thoughtfully. "I would like to move in with you and Draco. School is over soon, and I would like to spend some time with my friend, since Hermione and Ron are going to go to France together."
"Affection." repeated Locus flatly. "And of course moving in with us."
"If I'm not mistaken you have been a servant to Voldemort seventeen years ago, if not much earlier. You and your people took my parents away from me," Harry's eyes turned to ice and his face was a hard, unreadable mask. "It's your fault that I had to grow up at my wretched relatives' house and live a miserable life until two summers ago. If you want my support, I advise you to think very carefully about my proposal, because if not, I can break you into pieces, Malfoy. I couldn't care less." The last words came out as a venomous hiss, and Lucius felt himself shiver involuntarily. Slowly and with a very low voice Harry continued. "After the murder of my parents it's only fair to demand from you to take care of me. Now you're the one to give me what they couldn't."
Lucius shivered again, his eyes seemed to be glued to Harry's. The boy looked at him like a snake, ready to strike and pump its venom into his body.
"Don't you think it is rude to demand a place in my house?" he hissed, shaking himself out of his stupor.
"Yes, it is," admitted Harry promptly. "But please, it's just a room of – how many? Three hundred? – and you can easily afford that."
"It's not the room!" snarled Lucius. "It is your moronic attempt to wiggle your way into my house, probably to spy on me if I do what was agreed?" He angrily pushed his blond hair back and downed his brandy in one swig. "I can't believe I'm even talking with you."
"Well, you could try to win the election on your own, but I doubt that somebody would trust you. Your reputation isn't as unblemished as it used to be … and besides – it's really rich to say that to me!" snapped Harry back. "At least you have a choice, something my parents never had."
Lucius poured himself another glass of brandy and drank it at once. "The thought of having you of all people snooping and frolicking around in my house is sickening," he said darkly. "Yes, I was a follower of Voldemort. Maybe he was insane in his late years, but every one with power has bad days. And it isn't as if I hadn't warned you, you insolent boy." He sneered. "Of course the subtlety of language never was your thing."
Harry stared darkly back, but didn't open his mouth.
"Yes, Potter, I said it right in your face, in the Ministry, after your hearing. I said that you wiggle your way out of everything like a snake would." He snorted. "It was obviously futile to whisper pleasantries into your ear, you were far too stupid to get it. Draco's hint was more obvious, and I'm not impressed that you got that." He shook his head and glared at Harry. "Stupid, insolent, insufferable boy."
"You know, insulting me won't help you," remarked Harry coldly. "And how the hell was I supposed to know what you meant with that snake-comment?"
"Oh Merlin, you're thicker than I ever thought," said Lucius in a voice of utmost disgust. "You certainly knew that the snake was Voldemort's favourite pet. My tone should have indicated that something's not going to be right. And later – Snape gave me some titbits from the Order about your strange dreams – you even felt as if you were the snake, and yet you blew things with him and stopped doing Occlumency. You're so astoundingly stupid that I fail to put it into fitting words."
"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," replied Harry icily. "If I'm that stupid then you won't need my help."
"It's not my fault that the people are equally stupid and fall for a moron like Fudge again and again," hissed Lucius snidely. "I actually try to change things, and I actually would be open to suggestions from people I deem competent, but if you'd rather have another period of seven years with Fudge then I won't hinder you."
"Don't be an idiot," snarled Harry back. "Of course I don't want that moron again. But I always could support someone else, someone who's more amenable to my ideas."
Lucius groaned. "You silly-" He took a deep breath and straightened himself. "I just told you that I would change certain things, but maybe the great Harry Potter just is above listening." His grey eyes became blazing slits in which the fury roared wildly. "I, however, absolutely loathe the idea of having you in my house and especially near me."
He banged his brandy glass down on the table and growled in anger.
"We both know that we can't stand each other," he ground out between gritted teeth, "and I absolutely fail to see what you want in the long run."
Harry's eyes were still cold, but he answered nonetheless. "Well, that's something I can work with. First of all: I won't bother you too much since you would be out of the house a lot, should you win the election. Secondly, I want to work together with you. It wouldn't do to send half a dozen owls each day because we bicker about some stupid wordplays. And thirdly I indeed want to get to know you better. You're responsible for a great part of the daily life, now that Voldemort is dead and guidelines are needed."
Lucius just chuckled disbelievingly.
"I'm the one making the first steps!" growled Harry, "And I'm tired of explaining myself. Take it or leave it, Malfoy. I don't want your money and I certainly don't want to redecorate your precious house. I just want you to accept me as a person and as someone you respect. Because right now you think I'm a nuisance that accidentally killed your previous master." He snorted. "And what a master it was. Insane and sadistic, but don't be afraid, Mr Malfoy, in the Ministry there certainly are people who are equally sadistic and equally insane for you."
"How long would you annoy me, Potter?" snapped Lucius and effectively ended Harry's tirade. "If I'm going to agree to those damn conditions I at least want to know when I'm getting rid of you at last."
"Oh, I thought about three years," said Harry nonchalantly.
"What?" shrieked Lucius and actually tousled his hair as he dug his fingers into the long, silvery blond strands.
"Well, for politics three years are hardly a long time," said Harry impatiently. "And getting things through will undeniably take some time. But don't worry, I don't plan to ghost through your house and do mischief. Draco and I will most certainly try some new things and orientate us for the future."
"What exactly do you want from me, once you live in the manor?" Lucius asked, still looking shell shocked. "I mean, you will be there for three years if I agree to this insanity!"
"Just talk," said Harry innocently. "Daily life. See what happens."
"Murder," muttered Lucius darkly. His thoughts raced. If he would let Potter live with him in the manor, then he wouldn't be left alone for three bloody years. But maybe Draco could help him out, give Potter something to do, keep him away from him …
Meanwhile Harry was eating his boiled egg on a third roll, not looking at Lucius. He knew that he was impertinent and most Slytherin-esque, but he wanted it, and what he wanted he would get, or nothing at all.
After almost half an hour of intensive thinking and squirming to find a way out of this miserable situation, Lucius addressed Harry again.
"If we do that, Potter, we do it my way. I will send you a list which will contain all conditions for a stay at my manor. You may add your own conditions, and then we will write a binding contract and settle this … thing." His eyes were colder than the arctic. "Let's be said that, while I'm proud of your inner Slytherin, I find your proposition vile, and should I find any reason I will kick you out; my home, my rules."
Harry considered him for a moment, and then he nodded shortly. "We will negotiate further terms by owl, Mr Malfoy."
Lucius calmed himself down, thinking that strangling Potter wouldn't do him any good. One had to think about the future, right? He rose from the couch, stepped away from the table, accioed his cloak and cane and strode out of the room without a backward glance.
Harry occupied himself with his breakfast. A happy smile graced his face. He had a home for the next three years if he was lucky. He would never go back to the Dursleys. Even Lucius Malfoy was better than those three Muggles, and that was saying a lot.
x – xx - x
True to his words Lucius Malfoy sent an owl three days later. The letter was very heavy, because the list of conditions seemed to be endless. Harry grabbed Draco as soon as a possibility arose. They went together into the Room of Requirement and made themselves comfortable.
"I can't believe father agreed to that," said Draco in wonderment.
"He didn't agree yet," Harry reminded him gently. "But I'm glad that you actually would like to have me in your house."
"Of course!" said Draco, "I wouldn't allow you to go back to those awful Muggles, even if you wanted to." He snickered. "And we have plans, or have you already forgotten?"
"Of course not, you presumptuous git." Harry whacked him over the head with a pillow, then they snuggled closer and read Lucius' letter together.
Mr Potter,
The following conditions are to be considered in case of an agreement. Read carefully and be sure you understand what I'm saying – it could turn out very ugly for the both of us if you don't.
L. Malfoy
Conditions between Lucius Malfoy and Harry Potter in regard of a business agreement concerning the election for the post of Minister of Magic and the rebuild of the wizarding world:
In case that H.P. speaks in favour of L.M. the following conditions must come into force:
One: H.P. is to be informed about new law suggestions.
Two: H.P. can veto new law suggestions.
Three: H.P. lives for three years in the Malfoy household from the point of the official election.
Conditions concerning H.P. living in the Malfoy household:
One: No freeing of house elves.
Two: No parties without my explicit permission.
Three: No lovers in my house.
Three-a: No friends of yours (strangers) in my house without my knowledge and approval.
Four: No stealing.
Five: No damaging.
Six: No wandering around without knowledge of the family and without a house elf. (You seriously could get lost – would be a pity, wouldn't it?)
Seven: No redecoration without my permission.
Eight: No pets without my permission.
Nine: No spreading information about the Manor and the grounds or my family.
Ten: No changing or disturbing the wards around the Manor.
Eleven: No presumptuous, undoubtedly teenaged mischief in my house and on my person. That's valid for you as well, Draco.
Twelve: No sabotaging my work, if you do so I'll kick you out immediately and the deal is for naught.
"Wow," Harry said after reading the list. "He was in a bad mood, I think."
"Well, you blackmailed him rather badly," replied Draco, shrugging. "I hope dad knows what he's doing, because I don't want to see him at the loosing end." He turned to look at Harry. "You will agree to this, won't you? All of it sounds reasonable."
"I know. But I'll put some things in, as well. It's not enough for me."
"What else do you want?" Draco wondered.
"I'd like to spend at least one evening in the week with you and your dad. The agreement is worth a shit if he can hide himself in the Ministry. But I want to get to know him in order to support him effectively." He lowered his head a bit. "I told him that I want affection – but that's maybe too much to ask for from him."
"Well, you have my affection for the time being," Draco grinned. He kissed Harry on the top of his head, and then he conjured a self-filling quill and handed it to Harry.
The ink was red, and so Harry added some minor things and then threw both away.
"Hedwig will take it later," he murmured. "But there's that awful assignment for Potions, and I have no idea what to do."
"Then come, Potter. Time's running." Draco stood up and helped Harry to his feet. "But you know, I don't believe you anymore that you don't understand what to do in Potions. It's more that you don't feel inclined to do it. You're lazy, Potter. Move your ass and come, then maybe you will get more than an Acceptable for your work."
Harry smiled weakly. "Snape still dislikes me … although I did quite well in the OWL exam. Well, of course he hasn't been there, but still."
"Nonsense. You will see, if you remain cool then he won't be able to take points. And besides … I told every Slytherin that they should leave you alone. If not," he smirked maliciously, "you would come after them with the same curse you used on Voldemort."
"They better believe that," snarled Harry. "Those stupid oafs need to be taught a lesson."
"You are too patient," Draco chuckled. "But if you're at it, please hex Parkinson for me. She simply doesn't understand that I'm gay for crying out loud, and that I would never touch her pug-faced beauty, no matter what. Not even with a long stick. Or pincers."
"I'll think of it," promised Harry. They reached the door and left the Room of Requirement. "But pray tell, where will you look for your perfect match, now that I'm just your brother?"
"Hm," mumbled Draco, "I don't know. First there's school, but after that I really want to visit Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. I need to talk to them."
"You really want to take part of their business?" Harry asked.
"I don't quite want to write a letter, who knows what's coming back?" Draco grinned. "But there's enough time. I heard you get a hefty amount of gold every month?"
"Yeah, I'm silent partner because I provided them with their starting capital. But now they have permission to use a part of my money and work with it. I get good interests, and I told them to put a fix sum into my Gringotts vault every time."
"Have you got just that vault or did Black leave you something?"
"He did," said Harry sadly. "But I gave half of it Professor Lupin, because the Ministry made a law a few years ago that hinders werewolves to get work. It's unfair." He sighed as they walked through the empty seventh floor. "He didn't want it at first but when I told him that I would do anything to change the law he agreed. He wants to give it back as soon as he can. The money from the Weasley twins helps him a great deal but I'm happier if he can afford himself some luxury."
"He's too good," said Draco thoughtfully. "He's practically your second godfather. But go on with your story."
"Well, there's Sirius' personal vault, his family vault, my parents' vaults – each with a fortune, the vaults of my ancestors – their keys have been in my father's and mother's vault, and don't forget all the grounds I inherited. I own Grimauld Place Number Twelve, the house in Godric's Hollow where my parents died, grounds in Scotland, Wales and even in Ireland, and, surprisingly, some hectares in France which have a nice house on it. I didn't even know that my mother had wizarding ancestors who had old blood as well! Aunt Petunia would throw a tantrum if she knew that she had all the time a hefty fortune under her nose. But she wasn't mentioned in my great-grandmothers or grandmother's last will, so yeah, she missed out on that …"
"Wow," Draco breathed. "We will have to take a look at it all as soon as we're out of here."
"Yeah, I'd love to travel around a bit. See what I can use and what not. The house in Godric's Hollow is burnt down, however. I don't know if it could ever be a home for me."
"No, Harry," said Draco immediately. "You would be miserable there. But you could make it a memorial or a museum for all the victims and proud fighters against Voldemort."
"Sounds good," replied Harry, his face brightening. "But not immediately. I have to help your father, and I do want to watch what the other morons are doing, at least during the first time."
"Then it's settled," Draco decided. "I'll help you, of course, but I want you to come with me to the Weasleys. I don't want to be hexed into oblivion just because I'm myself."
"Don't worry. They will question you thoroughly, even try to give you Veritaserum. Then they will want to know how much money you're thinking about bringing in. They follow the money as much as you do, Drake, and I'm sure your mischievous nature will help you, as well."
"Don't you want to give them ideas from time to time?" Draco asked coyly.
"Guess who invented the clown-head-toffees," Harry smirked back. "They were a hit! But I don't have the energy to think about new jokes all the time. If I have ideas I owl them and propose, but otherwise I just wait for them to provide Hogwarts' pupils with new treats."
"And you with the money," added Draco.
"And me with the money," agreed Harry.
Laughing, they wandered down to Draco's private chamber. They would do their homework together. Hermione and Ron were so occupied with each other and their trip to France five months ahead that they didn't really realise that Harry was gone most of the time.
End of Part II
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