To his confusion and dismay, Arthur had indeed been affected as much as Lucius by their interaction. Well into the early hours he stared absently at the ceiling, Molly's snores steady beside him, until finally he gave up and went down to the kitchen to make some tea. His mind remained locked on the same memory that Lucius sat awake in Malfoy Manor thinking of as well.
It happened in winter break of 1967, Arthur's final year at Hogwarts and Lucius' third. Most students had gone home over break, including Arthur's then girlfriend and now wife, Molly Prewett. His parents had gone to visit his two brothers who were living and working in Croatia, and Arthur had volunteered to stay at Hogwarts knowing money was too tight for him to accompany them.
Lucius, on the other hand, had been commanded by his parents to stay. Whatever his father was up to, they did not want their son around for it. The next year, of course, everyone would know Abraxas Malfoy to be arrested for the death of the only Muggle-born Minister of Magic, Nobby Leach. An event many felt marked the start of the war. At the time though, the dreadful year of 1968 was still several days away.
The day was cold, but the sun shone bright when Arthur turned onto the covered bridge and saw the figure of Lucius Malfoy midway down. The two had never really spoken but Arthur noticed Lucius staring at him often. At first he thought the boy had been staring at Molly, as they were almost always together during the fall term, but then he caught him staring on several occasions when he was alone. Lucius had a regal attractiveness to him, even then, and Arthur found he did not mind the attention. What that meant for his overall identity, he hadn't really thought on it much, but he certainly hadn't told anyone he found Lucius attractive.
Puberty finished with Lucius that fall, when the staring began, and Arthur assumed he was older. He'd guessed fifteen before Molly had corrected him. The Prewetts hated the Malfoys, so naturally she knew every detail about them. The only family the Weasleys hated then were the Blacks, who had disowned Arthur's mother for marrying his father. His father did not hate Muggles and therefore was branded a blood traitor. It was a title Arthur happily inherited, especially after 1968, but not one he dealt with too frequently at Hogwarts.
"Beautiful day," Arthur remarked.
Lucius nodded, having already turned at the sound of Arthur's footsteps on the icy bridge. He found everything about Arthur fascinating. From his bright red hair to how he always seemed a bit sweaty somehow, like he'd come from a grand adventure or hard labor task. Arthur always appeared free. His entire disposition was foreign to Lucius' known way of life. His father forbade him from mingling with his sort, saying blood traitors were worse than mudbloods because they had a choice on the matter.
"How was your Christmas?" Arthur asked, mostly to be polite.
"It was quiet." Lucius said.
"Yes, same for me. A bit lonely. Everyone in Gryffindor has gone home this year."
"Same for Slytherin. Only a few students have stayed besides me."
They stood there lamely, Arthur nodding absently without much else to say. Lucius gazed at him in a way that made his stomach do a little flip. He stepped closer to the boy with a small laugh to diffuse these new nerves.
"Lucius, right?"
"Yes, and you're Arthur. Arthur Weasley." Lucius said far more calmly than he felt now that he knew the object of his affection knew his name.
"Lucius, I've noticed you staring at me this year. I wondered why?" Arthur asked in a mild tone.
The color drained from the Malfoy boy's face, confirming what Arthur suspected.
"I should go." Lucius said.
He stepped too quickly around the seventh year and slipped on some ice. Arthur caught him by the midsection before he could fall.
"You're freezing!" Arthur exclaimed. He instinctively pulled him close and rubbed his back to warm him.
Lucius tensed up, unsure what to do now that he was ensconced in Arthur's arms. It was not the way he'd imagined it happening. Not that he ever thought it would.
"How long have you been out here?" Arthur asked.
He said it calmly, in a friendly tone, and felt Lucius's body relax against him.
"I don't know."
"We should get you inside, by the fire. You'll get sick out here."
Lucius shook his head, "I want to stay here."
"Here in the cold or here with me?" Arthur asked as he continued to rub Lucius' torso.
Lucius' heart pounded. Arthur either knew he liked him, or he was baiting him into admitting it. He kept his mouth shut, deciding no response was the safest course of action.
When Lucius didn't answer him, Arthur stopped rubbing his body and let his hands come to rest at the top of the boy's waist.
"I don't mind that you stare at me." He whispered close enough to Lucius' ear that his lips brushed the boy's soft skin and caused him to shiver. At this involuntary motion, Arthur became overwhelmed by the urge to kiss him. He moved so their faces were better aligned.
Lucius felt numb from his nerves and the cold, completely unsure how he remained standing as Arthur's sky-blue eyes stared into his. Then Arthur pressed his lips to Lucius'. It was the first time Lucius had been kissed and he had no idea what to do. Thankfully, Arthur did.
Arthur's lips were soft and comfortable, easy to kiss back. Lucius told himself to relax and not overthink it. He allowed himself to follow his instincts and his mouth seemed wise enough on the subject to keep up.
Arthur had never kissed a boy before and he wasn't sure what to expect. Lucius wasn't soft like girls were. His strong jaw gave a rigidity to his mouth. He felt powerful to the touch, like a tiger. Arthur found himself intoxicated by this masculinity. He never thought a mouth could impact him so profoundly, but it was all he craved as they continued to kiss for several minutes on the bridge.
They had spent the rest of the day together, walking the grounds until sunset and eating dinner with the small group of students who remained, mostly Ravenclaws. Lucius dragged leaving the Great Hall, knowing he had to return to the Slytherin common room and worried the day's magic would end once he did.
"Fancy a game of wizard's chess?" Arthur asked catching up to him before he could descend the stairs to the dungeons.
"Sure…" Lucius was happy to stay with him longer, but he wished it wasn't so public. His father really couldn't hear about him spending time with a Weasley, especially one who was dating a Prewett. That fact, of course, was another complication he didn't really want to think about.
"No, not in the Great Hall." Arthur said as Lucius had changed direction back towards the hall. "I know the perfect spot to play. Come on!"
He smiled brightly, and Lucius quickly followed the red head up seven floors to Gryffindor Tower.
"Cover your ears." Arthur grinned once they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.
Lucius rolled his eyes playfully but did as he was told. Arthur murmured out the password and the portrait swung inward. After he entered, Arthur held out his hand for Lucius to use for balance as he climbed over the entrance's threshold. He slid his fingers between Lucius' once the portrait closed and pulled him towards the central seating area.
"So, this is Gryffindor. I suppose you'll want to know about it compares to Slytherin?"
"Oh, no. I've been to Slytherin's common room loads of times." Arthur smiled mischievously and offered nothing more on the subject. Lucius was curious as to why he had been there so often but didn't press. He could learn the information some other way.
"So, where's this wizard's chess?" Lucius asked.
"Did you really want to play?"
"What else will we do?"
"Anything we'd like." Arthur said.
He sat on the most comfortable couch, still holding Lucius' hand, and tugged him to sit as well.
"Are we alone?" Lucius asked.
"Entirely alone. Like I said, every Gryffindor went home for break. Even Sir Nicholas seems to be elsewhere."
Lucius smiled. He watched the firelight dance off Arthur's red hair, marveling at how rich a color it produced.
"You are really beautiful, you know." Lucius said.
Arthur laughed.
"What?" Lucius frowned.
"No one's ever called me beautiful."
"Then no one has ever been honest with you." Lucius said with earnest.
Arthur's heart rate sped up.
"I really want to kiss you again." Lucius said.
"Good, because I really want to kiss you again, too."
Lucius cupped both his hands around Arthur's face and kissed him once. He smiled at him with excitement and raked a hand through Arthur's red strands.
"What?" Arthur grinned.
Lucius bit his lower lip and shook his head, "I just can't believe this is happening."
"We did kiss already, you know." Arthur laughed.
"Oh, I know." Lucius said, his grey-blue eyes sparkled. "I meant that, too. All of it. I'm not even supposed to talk to you, let alone kiss you."
Arthur frowned, "Really?"
Lucius smirked and shook his head. He pulled Arthur's face to his, kissing him fiercely with that strong, hard mouth Arthur craved.
Arthur stared into his tea mug in the Burrow's kitchen. The tea had already grown cold, more of a stage prop to support his claim of insomnia should anyone pop into the kitchen. He recollected how Lucius had stayed overnight in Gryffindor Tower in his bed. Their bodies hadn't really fit in the small bed but neither minded, entwining their limbs and savoring each other's touch until they fell asleep. Nothing beyond kissing and Arthur removing his shirt had happened, neither of them had even thought to do more.
In the morning it was Lucius who ended it before it could really even begin. He was cool and emotionless about it, as if far older than thirteen. He'd cited all the reasons it wouldn't work and then thanked Arthur for his time and hospitality. They'd parted with a promise to keep the entire thing a secret. They'd called it their unbreakable vow, though no magic had been involved so it wasn't truly binding. It soon became an easy climate to keep such a vow when the war broke out, as neither could benefit enough to offset the negatives exposing their dalliance would bring.
Arthur had been relieved at the time, glad to write it off as a lapse in judgement and not an identity crisis.
Until today, Lucius hadn't regretted ending things as swiftly as he had. Sitting in the firelight of his study in Malfoy Manor now though, his lower half still exposed from when he'd brought himself to climax recounting the memory of that December day, he longed for Arthur's touch. For greater memories to draw from. He needed more.
Lucius tried for a week to suppress his desire, asking Narcissa to pleasure him in ways he could easily sub out her image with Arthur's until he realized this was insufficient. She was too soft, too short, too noble, too controlled, too familiar. He entertained hiring a prostitute to take Polyjuice Potion and turn into Arthur, but this posed two problems: getting a strand of Arthur's hair and keeping the prostitute from talking. His memory charm skills were less than ideal, and he couldn't exactly kill someone, even a prostitute. Regardless, he recognized that he wanted Arthur, not an imitation. The way he'd felt in his grip, pressed against the bookcase in Flourish and Blotts, there was nothing like it. He needed to feel that again.
The problem was he had no idea if Arthur even held lingering interest in him. It was this not knowing that drove Lucius the maddest. The idea of not being in control, lacking that certainty, it kept him distracted and hyper-focused on Arthur. So much so that Narcissa and Draco noticed he was acting distant. Narcissa made subtle comments about how his obligations must be greater than usual, while Draco merely droned on about Harry Potter ad nauseum, apparently thinking this would impress him. It remained so frequent and detailed that Lucius vaguely wondered if Draco was interested in Harry the way he was in Arthur. He shook the thought as it was too complicated to entertain given their family's predicament with the Dark Lord.
After another frustrating masturbation session in his study, Lucius decided to take control of the situation. He realized this was no different than any other obstacle he overcame, he merely needed to establish a plan of conquest. He'd been meddling with Arthur's career for years, surely this couldn't be much more complicated than that.
He dove into this work, marking down in code a calendar of actions to take in the successful seduction of Arthur Weasley. The first task was to give him a gift he needed, and Lucius knew that could only mean one thing. Happily, it was something with which he was well endowed.
Three days after Lucius set his plan into motion, Arthur found himself relieved to be depositing his latest pay into his Gringotts vault. The school supplies had completely wiped them out, and while Harry had been polite enough to try and hide the Potter wealth, he still ate as much as any growing boy. Arthur didn't mind hosting the famous Harry Potter for the month, of course, and really the small boy scarcely made his presence known. He was far better behaved than any of his children. Still, he wished Molly coddled him less, especially given their financial state, but he knew that was a hopeless cause.
The goblin announced his vault and opened it with the family key. Arthur strode in without caution since he knew it was empty and crashed into a large pile of something metal. He looked down in surprise only to let out a loud, "Merlin's beard!" when he saw what he'd knocked over. Strewn across the stone floor were piles of galleons—at least a thousand.
"Is everything all right in there?" the goblin inquired.
"Yes," Arthur lied. Best not to alert the goblin to this before he understood it.
He set down his comparably measly 21 galleons and 18 sickles and began to tidy up the mess. Unlike Molly, he hated messiness. Some chaos was acceptable of course, but the Burrow's general state of disarray drove him bonkers. As he swept an arm around the galleons on the floor, he noticed a note. Whoever snuck this small fortune in had identified themselves at least.
Arthur, they really ought to be paying you overtime.
Lucius hadn't signed it, but Arthur had no doubts it was his handwriting. He was more than familiar with that handwriting given how frequently it found its way onto downsizing notices about his department.
His spine tingled uncomfortably. Why would Lucius give him so much money? What did he want from him? More pressing, however, was how on earth he was going to explain all this money to Molly.