Malfoys Aren't Prisoners
Sequel to Red Masterpieces
Rating: R for violence
Spoilers: All books
Pairing: HP/LM
Feedback: I love the stuff.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
Betaed by: Misty waters! Thankies ^_^
Summary: Sequel to Red Masterpieces. The final battle, Both Harry and Lucius are fighting on opposite sides; will ether of them survive?
~*~
Lucius awoke first, his Dark Mark rousing him in a fiery wakeup call.
He watched his young lover for a precious few seconds, his last chance to see his Harry at peace. Harry never looked quite like the war hero he was supposed to be when he slept; it was one of Lucius' guilty, and very secret, little pleasures to watch Harry like this. Harry only looked better in the throes of an orgasm: his eyes clouded over, sweat slickly coating his body, gasping, begging, pleading, and his wonderful mouth open in silent wishes to stay like that forever. It was that that made Lucius love Harry, the way only he could make Harry let down his guard, the way Lucius and only Lucius could draw him to that feeling.
Harry stirred, unconsciously seeking the warm body next to him, and like a kitten he curled himself up on his lovers chest, nuzzling him.
Lucius pulled off the bed, leaving Harry cold and bereft on the bed. He mewed and pulled into a ball, missing his comforter. He began to shake lightly, so Lucius pulled the blanket over him tightly.
The Death Eater dressed in his black robes and glass mask he had brought with him. They had both known that this morning would be good bye and had come prepared. He looked one last time at Harry and bent down and kissed the Gryffindor's forehead. The boy whimpered lightly.
A single tear ran down his face
"Remember what you promised me, Harry. Don't hesitate; if you get the chance to kill me, do so. If the light side wins I won't go to Azkaban. I'll forgive you. I'll wait at the gates of purgatory to tell you I'm sorry." With that Lucius apparated away, leaving Harry to the dark nightmares that had taken over his mind the moment the warm body had left him alone in the too big bed.
The field was dark. A magical total eclipse had blocked out the sun in the height of day to cast biting shadows. Harry stood at the head of a group of the strongest mages, druids, elves, and some other creatures unknown even to the wizarding world that had ever walked the earth, and all of them looking to him.
Albus had died, and his death had summed the eclipse. No Muggle would be hurt in the battle; no non-magical eyes would be able to look upon a wizard while the sun was gone, but the ritual was difficult and he had been vulnerable at the end of it. Tom Riddle took advantage of vulnerability, thus the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts had ever known had been killed.
It was all Harry now. Everyone's last hope, a shining light, and he was an act. He looked out over the battle field, which was a deserted moor, with wild grass and heather hugging the ground, adding a colourful display to the bone yard-to-be.
Across the barren land he saw people apparate. They were quite far away, but keen eyes could make out the differences between them: all bore the white masks and black robes, bar two: Voldemort and a tall figure clad in green robes marking him out as a Potions Master.
Harry turned to his troupes one last time.
"The one in green is one of ours. He is our spy. Protect him. Do not hurt him; he is very valuable to us. Everyone else is to be killed or taken prisoner. Remember Albus Dumbledore: he died protecting innocent people. This is a war. It's kill or be killed. We are the last line of protectors; let us avenge him. Let us cleanse the world of his presence so we may begin to heal." With that, Harry turned back to face the enemy, his pet talk hollow and coached.
"Do we have no others among his ranks?" An elf asked him, but Harry didn't look at the ancient creature, his eyes busy scanning the sky line for something. He found it. A Death Eater. His black robe billowed in the wind, glass mask hiding his face, but the moonlight blond hair that hung round it gave the man away.
Tears cascaded down Harry's face and fell to the ground. No one saw them, the enemy to far away, and his own troops were behind him.
"No," He whispered to the elf, "there is no one else." Harry tore his gaze away from the blond haired Death Eater as if he had been burned, biting down on his lip so hard the skin broke, blood mingled with the lightly falling rain.
"Now is our time." Was all Harry said and the fight began.
It had been four hours, maybe five, Harry had lost track. Death Eater after Death Eater had died at his hands, almost all of them strangers he had never met, but some were not. Cho had been the hardest. He had asked her why. She just looked at him with dead eyes. He had moved on. Harry wasn't surprised by Oliverander.
The battle raged on, but there weren't many left. Nott stood behind Harry, wand pointed at Harry's back.
"Turn around, pretty little thing, a Slytherin never curses a man in the back." The rain was coming down hard now, soaking robes and freezing fighters to the bone, adding to the fatigue. Slowly Harry turned, wand ready.
"My, my what a lucky find, little Harry Potter, Voldemort will be so pleased." Harry hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Dark Lord throughout the day, the "Lord" had decided not to get his robes dirty in the mud, so sure was he of victory.
Harry felt the familiar and useless affects of the Impervio curse being placed upon him and decided to play along.
Lucius hadn't seen Harry once. He had thought of him constantly, though. He watched as the Mudblood Granger fell at the end of his wand. He wouldn't spare her just because he loved Harry. He wouldn't spare Harry just because he loved Harry.
He felt a pain in his back, like he was being whipped by a cat-o-nine tails and fell to his knees.
"You fucking bastard!" screamed a hoarse voice, the Weasley boy. "You killed her!" Throwing off the effects of such a weak curse Lucius stood and faced the crying redhead 10 meters away, wand pointed.
"The Dark Lord shall rule, boy, and when he does, Mudbloods and filth like her will suffer beyond compare. I did her a favour." A green light blasted out of Ron's wand before he had even finished. Ron wasn't nearly powerful enough to cast a killing curse, but the hurt and rage behind what had happened to Hermione, his fiancé, had given his magic levels a boost. Lucius fell to the ground. He wasn't dead, but he could barely move, blood was rising in his through and pooling on the ground and at his mouth. Leaving a coppery tang on his tongue. He prayed for someone to finish him off. He wouldn't go to Azkaban. Malfoys were not prisoners.
It was done. Harry had killed Voldemort, the eclipse had ended, it was night by now though. A red moon hung in the sky like a grotesque Christmas bauble.
It was perhaps two in the morning, and Harry was sifting through the fallen bodies on the battle site, looking for survivors, so far there had been fourteen, nine Death Eaters, and five from the light side. The Death eaters were healed and sent to await a trial to Azkaban. None would escape imprisonment though.
Harry heard a muffled cough; scanning around in the dark he saw a slight movement.
Harry skidded to a halt in front of the survivor. Lucius. In very bad shape.
"It's over." Harry whispered to him. "We won." He gently rolled Lucius over so that his face wasn't to the ground. "We survived."
"Harry." Lucius' usual silk smooth voice was rugged and pain laced. "I won't go to Azkaban." Harry swallowed. No. He couldn't kill him. He had just found him again, they had both survived. What cruel fate would have him fight for hours for his life watching his friends die? With the only thing keeping him going being the hope that his lover had survived, then to show him he had only so that Harry could kill him with his own hands.
"Please Harry."
"I can't be that selfless." Whimpered Harry, barely louder than the wind. "I've had to lead an army today; I've killed so many people, and I've lost so many more. I'm selfish, I want you alive, no matter how you live, at least you'd be alive, I would be able to see you. Know that somewhere you were still there."
"Harry, you would be condemning me to hell. Please, I can't" Lucius groaned as a fresh wave of pain shot through him from the effort of talking.
"Mr. Potter."
"Yes?"
"We need you down in Lucius Malfoys cell. His hearing will need to be cancelled" Harry bolted out of the door to his temporary office as the Minister of Magic, (he didn't intend to keep the title for long, just until someone could replace him.) Chanting, "No, no, no," over and over to himself.
They went down to the lower Ministry levels, where the Death Eaters awaiting trial were being kept. He threw open the cell door and gasped.
The first thing he saw was the far wall. Scrawled across it in messy red writing was, "Mã paenitet."
~*~
A/N: there, I've left it at that, I don't really want to take it much further.
I like this so much better than Red Masterpieces. This is one of only a few of my fic's I get a sort of good feeling from, as in I don't automatically look at it and think, oh my god what shit have I written now ^_^
I left out the Harry/Voldemort show down thing, I just couldn't be bothered coming up with a clever way of killing the S.O.B.
And if you wondering, I didn't explain it in the story but Dumbledore was weak after doing the eclipse spell and couldn't defend himself hen one of Voldemorts spies in the castle attacked him, so Harry had to take over!