**********************************
Oh shit, he was here again. In this master bedroom, sitting pensively on the bed staring at the fire which blazed and roared furiously in its fireplace, licking up the logs which were charred and destroyed utterly. Harry knew it was just a dream, but it reflected a great amount of truth about his life. He knew that in a few seconds or maybe minutes, Draco would be storming in, demanding to know about his supposed affair.
The bedsheets felt soft yet oddly cold and denying. Harry knew he looked pale and weary - the mirror across the room said a lot. He was looking slightly ragged and world-weary as he kept his green eyes fixed upon the door, expecting it to burst open any second. He heard the dreamy pattering of feet down the corridor outside and sighed. He would have to repeat this nightmare again.
'Harry!' the door was flung open and Draco Malfoy entered, his pale face even more pallid than usual as he glared at Harry furiously. Harry felt like withering under the intense glares and felt his dream self clutch frantically at the bedsheets under him and begin trembling.
Trembling being a mild term - shaking more like it.
'I received the note you sent via owl post alright,' Draco stated, his fury and hysteria evident in the way his hand shook as he flung the crumpled sheet of paper to the ground. He had just traveled all the way from Russia, where he had been having a conference, back to England.
'And I received the one asking me not to leave the house - Draco, what is this whole business about?! I agree to marry you and you disallow me from leaving the house even to meet a friend!' Harry stood up, not allowing his fear to take over himself as he stated equally madly. Draco took a step forwards, so that they were just inches from each other.
'You are mine - not Finnigan's husband!' Draco snarled furiously and roughly pushed Harry back to the bed. Harry felt the enormous amount of strength used and helplessly tried to defend himself as Draco pinned him to the bed and snarled once again, 'Mine. Say you are mine, Harry. Say you belong to me, only me,'
'Draco, you're insane. You don't own me or anything - I am not yours alone. I do not belong to anyone,' Draco seemed even more agitated and backhanded Harry roughly. Harry flinched slightly as he felt the cold palm leave an imprint on his skin.
'DRA-' Harry was brutally flipped over and made to stay on all fours while he heard noises of cloth ripping and parts of his bare back being exposed to the cold air. The next few minutes were full of snarls and threats from Draco. Harry painfully endured the white-hot feeling of being torn apart inside while clutching onto the bedsheets and trying to shake off Draco.
Harry shut his eyes after a while, unwilling to see himself being raped by his own husband.
The grinding pain soon subsided and the sounds of Draco pulling on his clothes were heard. Harry helplessly fell onto the bed, his body sore from the exhausting torture.
(Author refuses to go into detail about rape due to unimaginative mind, do forgive)
'You be sure you know you are mine next time I come,' Draco warned him fiercely before leaving the room.
And Harry allowed himself to cry into the pillows which muffled his sobs.
*******************************
He was crying, he knew. His body was shaking pitifully at every breath he took to calm himself down. His arms were not as usual covering his face as he usually did back in Hogwarts - they were around someone's neck and he was pressed closely against a broad chest as he cried like a toddler.
Draco, the thought that Draco was holding him calmed him down.
He felt the person holding him stroke his back comfortingly to soothe his crying and fear. He was grateful to this person - no one had ever bothered to calm him down and comfort him. Ron was never comfortable with hugging and patting and the other boys would merely pat him on the shoulder and say something like 'It's ok, mate. Nightmares are common, d'you dream about Snape giving a surprise exam?'
'Shhh . . . Harry, it was just a nightmare, it's not real,' the person was holding him and rocking him slightly to calm him down. It was Draco then, Harry was slightly relived to hear the familiar voice, comforting as ever, even though it was menacing in the nightmare.
'I'm ok, really. Thanks,' Harry felt slightly embarrassed being held like that, like an infant.
'No, you aren't. Don't lie to yourself, Harry,' Harry gave no response. He moved his hands slightly downwards to let go of Draco, only to get a shock. He could feel something silky and long brushing lightly against the back of his hands and he was alarmed. It felt like long silky hair.
Draco did not have long hair - Harry tensed as he realised with a jolt of his stomach who was holding him so gently, whose voice sounded like Draco's. He would have given up all the gold he had if he could just get a time-turner and just keep himself from going to sleep to avoid this scene. If it had been Draco, it would have been fine - but this was. . .
Lucius Malfoy.
Lucius Malfoy sitting on the edge of his bed, holding him carefully and calming him down, letting him sit on *his* lap with his arms around the older man's neck.
Lucius Malfoy must have felt the tensing of Harry's petite body for he gently disentangled himself from the boy and brought the boy to arms length and looked at the boy. The normal steel grey was replaced with gentle grey which were slightly guarded now that Harry stared back into the man's eyes. But strangely, when Harry should have given a yell and scrambled for his wand, he did not.
'Thank you,' Harry whispered as softly as he could as he leaned forwards into the man's arms and let himself drown in the warmth of the man.
It was simple to him at the moment - he needed assurance and comfort and Lucius Malfoy was willing to provide him with that.
*********************************
45 Mins Later
Narcissa Malfoy woke up with a start. A thunderstorm was raging outside and a flash of lightning which lit up the room told her that Lucius was not in bed. He was likely to be awake and sitting in the study again, thinking of James Potter. Narcissa might not love Lucius, but she respected him, for steadfastly loving the same man for eighteen years even though James Potter was dead.
Narcissa never loved Lucius, and she was aware Lucius had no love for her either. Their parents had merely placed the two most beautiful teenagers in the wizarding world together to beget a grandchild who was beautiful. Now that Draco was born and brought up, the two hardly talked to each other.
Narcissa herself knew that Lucius did occasionally take lovers who were of the same sex but the lovers were gone as abruptly as they came for Lucius found that none could erase the painful memory of James Potter. Narcissa also took her own lovers who were women and girls with exotic beauty like hers, but at least they lasted for at least a month.
She quietly made her way to the study just rooms down the corridor and stopped by the door, looking stealthily through a small crack. Yes, she was right. Lucius was sitting in there, staring at the letter his lover had given him nearly two decades ago and as she watched, he gave a soft sigh and a tear left those cold grey eyes to trail downwards on the flawless face.
Narcissa herself felt herself blinking back tears as she thought to herself.
Lucius Malfoy was human afterall.
***************************
15 Mins ago
What in the name of Merlin and King Arthur (and Lancelot - god knows how many knights there were?!) had he done just now? Lucius Malfoy was highly distressed, something he would rather have been killed than caught in. But he had a very good reason for being so agitated and frustrated with himself.
He had been innocently-enough going past Ha - no, Potter's room when he had felt the sudden impulse to enter and see how his ex-flame's son was doing. Using his well-practiced furtiveness, he entered the room and was enthralled by the peace of it all.
The boy was sleeping on the bed, highly diminutive in size as compared to the bed. The black, unmanageable hair was like James' had been, some falling over his eyes as he clutched at the pillow, speaking of which, James also had the habit of. It was amazingly painful to think that just nearly two decades ago, Lucius had also been in the same situation, with just the father of this boy.
The eyes, now peacefully shut, were a stunning emerald green when opened, courtesy of the woman whom James had died together which. His nose, his mouth and his face shape all took after James. How a son could look so much like the father was a mystery - but then, Draco had always looked like Lucius.
Except for the feminine delicateness, Lucius spat inwardly in disgust. The boy had got his girlish mouth and extremely delicate body stature from his mother. Lucius would have hoped at least that his heir was more masculine to look at and was tough, yet elegant. But Draco was weak and elegant - if you were lenient in your marking criteria.
Now coming back to the boy. Harry Potter was handsome, Lucius realised, if you liked the tough yet delicate type of boy. In his own way, Potter did have some sort of ruggedness that endeared Lucius in certain ways, like James had. James had also been like this, but at this age, James had been taller and more muscular with more tan and more confidence.
Then, just as Lucius watched, the boy had given a fretful whine like a puppy and then clutched even harder at the pillow, all this while, his lips moved quickly as if he was talking in his sleep. The words were unintelligible and Lucius moved closer out of curiosity for he felt that straining was no help at all. As he got closer, Lucius managed to hear snatches of English.
'Draco', 'leaving house', 'don't belong to anyone', 'insane' were just examples of words and by the look of it, Lucius managed to piece together that the nightmare was about Draco, and some insane thought of over protectiveness. Lucius arched a graceful eyebrow as he continued to hear the boy mumble incoherently and give occasional whimpers and moans.
Then, everything happened quickly, one moment Harry was simply just whimpering on the bed and the next, he was wildly clutching at the pillow while thrashing on the bed like a wizard under Crucio. And then tears were pouring out of those emerald eyes as the boy wildly cried and mumbled.
Lucius did as instinct taught him and memory. He sat on the bed and slightly forcibly pulled the boy from lying position into sitting position on his lap. Muttering tenderly and comfortingly, in a way completely un- Malfoy like, he drew the boy close to his chest and rocked the small body.
And the most pleasant thing, Lucius was being sarcastic, had happened. Harry Potter had opened his eyes and realised it was Lucius.
Lucius had been relishing memories of James Potter when the boy had woke up and tensed. Remembering hurriedly who he was holding, Lucius had released the boy abruptly, fearing that the boy would be scared rigid. The greenish of the eyes which stared into his for seconds was like a knife, twisting its way into his heart and paining him so much Lucius was overcome with sadness.
Then, the boy did the unexpected, he had leaned into the embrace again, letting Lucius hold him and comfort him. Now, that was disturbing, highly disturbing.
******************************
Next morning
Narcissa Malfoy opened her beautiful grey eyes which were slightly dazed by sleep. A vague silhouette of a man pulling on deep green robes silently in the dimness of Wiltshire at six in the morning told her that Lucius was getting more and more subtle in his movements. When they had been newly married, he used to rouse her from sleep despite him trying to be as silent as possible. Now, she sometimes woke up to find him gone.
'Good morning, Lucius,' she said softly, her voice now adjusting to its melody and firmness as he eyed her warily before nodding curtly and replying, 'I have business at the ministry - Fudge just sent an owl. I leave it to you to see to the two children,' He had finished pulling on the robes and was doing the silver clasps deftly and then pulling his long hair into a strict ponytail.
He was a beautiful man. Narcissa realised if it was not for the fact that she was lesbian by nature, she might have fallen for him. But as it was, they each preferred their own gender and respected each other and their lovers. They each were used to sleeping alone at night while the respective partners were out warming someone else's bed. So there, quid pro quo.
************************************
I wonder where all the reviewers have gone? Dead? Just kidding. Hey you all out there reading this story, review ok?
They really mean a lot to me as they are comments that I refer to for improvement of writing style. . .so, review!!!! Maybe I should make a fair bargain, I review yours, you review mine.....Hahahaha...
Oh shit, he was here again. In this master bedroom, sitting pensively on the bed staring at the fire which blazed and roared furiously in its fireplace, licking up the logs which were charred and destroyed utterly. Harry knew it was just a dream, but it reflected a great amount of truth about his life. He knew that in a few seconds or maybe minutes, Draco would be storming in, demanding to know about his supposed affair.
The bedsheets felt soft yet oddly cold and denying. Harry knew he looked pale and weary - the mirror across the room said a lot. He was looking slightly ragged and world-weary as he kept his green eyes fixed upon the door, expecting it to burst open any second. He heard the dreamy pattering of feet down the corridor outside and sighed. He would have to repeat this nightmare again.
'Harry!' the door was flung open and Draco Malfoy entered, his pale face even more pallid than usual as he glared at Harry furiously. Harry felt like withering under the intense glares and felt his dream self clutch frantically at the bedsheets under him and begin trembling.
Trembling being a mild term - shaking more like it.
'I received the note you sent via owl post alright,' Draco stated, his fury and hysteria evident in the way his hand shook as he flung the crumpled sheet of paper to the ground. He had just traveled all the way from Russia, where he had been having a conference, back to England.
'And I received the one asking me not to leave the house - Draco, what is this whole business about?! I agree to marry you and you disallow me from leaving the house even to meet a friend!' Harry stood up, not allowing his fear to take over himself as he stated equally madly. Draco took a step forwards, so that they were just inches from each other.
'You are mine - not Finnigan's husband!' Draco snarled furiously and roughly pushed Harry back to the bed. Harry felt the enormous amount of strength used and helplessly tried to defend himself as Draco pinned him to the bed and snarled once again, 'Mine. Say you are mine, Harry. Say you belong to me, only me,'
'Draco, you're insane. You don't own me or anything - I am not yours alone. I do not belong to anyone,' Draco seemed even more agitated and backhanded Harry roughly. Harry flinched slightly as he felt the cold palm leave an imprint on his skin.
'DRA-' Harry was brutally flipped over and made to stay on all fours while he heard noises of cloth ripping and parts of his bare back being exposed to the cold air. The next few minutes were full of snarls and threats from Draco. Harry painfully endured the white-hot feeling of being torn apart inside while clutching onto the bedsheets and trying to shake off Draco.
Harry shut his eyes after a while, unwilling to see himself being raped by his own husband.
The grinding pain soon subsided and the sounds of Draco pulling on his clothes were heard. Harry helplessly fell onto the bed, his body sore from the exhausting torture.
(Author refuses to go into detail about rape due to unimaginative mind, do forgive)
'You be sure you know you are mine next time I come,' Draco warned him fiercely before leaving the room.
And Harry allowed himself to cry into the pillows which muffled his sobs.
*******************************
He was crying, he knew. His body was shaking pitifully at every breath he took to calm himself down. His arms were not as usual covering his face as he usually did back in Hogwarts - they were around someone's neck and he was pressed closely against a broad chest as he cried like a toddler.
Draco, the thought that Draco was holding him calmed him down.
He felt the person holding him stroke his back comfortingly to soothe his crying and fear. He was grateful to this person - no one had ever bothered to calm him down and comfort him. Ron was never comfortable with hugging and patting and the other boys would merely pat him on the shoulder and say something like 'It's ok, mate. Nightmares are common, d'you dream about Snape giving a surprise exam?'
'Shhh . . . Harry, it was just a nightmare, it's not real,' the person was holding him and rocking him slightly to calm him down. It was Draco then, Harry was slightly relived to hear the familiar voice, comforting as ever, even though it was menacing in the nightmare.
'I'm ok, really. Thanks,' Harry felt slightly embarrassed being held like that, like an infant.
'No, you aren't. Don't lie to yourself, Harry,' Harry gave no response. He moved his hands slightly downwards to let go of Draco, only to get a shock. He could feel something silky and long brushing lightly against the back of his hands and he was alarmed. It felt like long silky hair.
Draco did not have long hair - Harry tensed as he realised with a jolt of his stomach who was holding him so gently, whose voice sounded like Draco's. He would have given up all the gold he had if he could just get a time-turner and just keep himself from going to sleep to avoid this scene. If it had been Draco, it would have been fine - but this was. . .
Lucius Malfoy.
Lucius Malfoy sitting on the edge of his bed, holding him carefully and calming him down, letting him sit on *his* lap with his arms around the older man's neck.
Lucius Malfoy must have felt the tensing of Harry's petite body for he gently disentangled himself from the boy and brought the boy to arms length and looked at the boy. The normal steel grey was replaced with gentle grey which were slightly guarded now that Harry stared back into the man's eyes. But strangely, when Harry should have given a yell and scrambled for his wand, he did not.
'Thank you,' Harry whispered as softly as he could as he leaned forwards into the man's arms and let himself drown in the warmth of the man.
It was simple to him at the moment - he needed assurance and comfort and Lucius Malfoy was willing to provide him with that.
*********************************
45 Mins Later
Narcissa Malfoy woke up with a start. A thunderstorm was raging outside and a flash of lightning which lit up the room told her that Lucius was not in bed. He was likely to be awake and sitting in the study again, thinking of James Potter. Narcissa might not love Lucius, but she respected him, for steadfastly loving the same man for eighteen years even though James Potter was dead.
Narcissa never loved Lucius, and she was aware Lucius had no love for her either. Their parents had merely placed the two most beautiful teenagers in the wizarding world together to beget a grandchild who was beautiful. Now that Draco was born and brought up, the two hardly talked to each other.
Narcissa herself knew that Lucius did occasionally take lovers who were of the same sex but the lovers were gone as abruptly as they came for Lucius found that none could erase the painful memory of James Potter. Narcissa also took her own lovers who were women and girls with exotic beauty like hers, but at least they lasted for at least a month.
She quietly made her way to the study just rooms down the corridor and stopped by the door, looking stealthily through a small crack. Yes, she was right. Lucius was sitting in there, staring at the letter his lover had given him nearly two decades ago and as she watched, he gave a soft sigh and a tear left those cold grey eyes to trail downwards on the flawless face.
Narcissa herself felt herself blinking back tears as she thought to herself.
Lucius Malfoy was human afterall.
***************************
15 Mins ago
What in the name of Merlin and King Arthur (and Lancelot - god knows how many knights there were?!) had he done just now? Lucius Malfoy was highly distressed, something he would rather have been killed than caught in. But he had a very good reason for being so agitated and frustrated with himself.
He had been innocently-enough going past Ha - no, Potter's room when he had felt the sudden impulse to enter and see how his ex-flame's son was doing. Using his well-practiced furtiveness, he entered the room and was enthralled by the peace of it all.
The boy was sleeping on the bed, highly diminutive in size as compared to the bed. The black, unmanageable hair was like James' had been, some falling over his eyes as he clutched at the pillow, speaking of which, James also had the habit of. It was amazingly painful to think that just nearly two decades ago, Lucius had also been in the same situation, with just the father of this boy.
The eyes, now peacefully shut, were a stunning emerald green when opened, courtesy of the woman whom James had died together which. His nose, his mouth and his face shape all took after James. How a son could look so much like the father was a mystery - but then, Draco had always looked like Lucius.
Except for the feminine delicateness, Lucius spat inwardly in disgust. The boy had got his girlish mouth and extremely delicate body stature from his mother. Lucius would have hoped at least that his heir was more masculine to look at and was tough, yet elegant. But Draco was weak and elegant - if you were lenient in your marking criteria.
Now coming back to the boy. Harry Potter was handsome, Lucius realised, if you liked the tough yet delicate type of boy. In his own way, Potter did have some sort of ruggedness that endeared Lucius in certain ways, like James had. James had also been like this, but at this age, James had been taller and more muscular with more tan and more confidence.
Then, just as Lucius watched, the boy had given a fretful whine like a puppy and then clutched even harder at the pillow, all this while, his lips moved quickly as if he was talking in his sleep. The words were unintelligible and Lucius moved closer out of curiosity for he felt that straining was no help at all. As he got closer, Lucius managed to hear snatches of English.
'Draco', 'leaving house', 'don't belong to anyone', 'insane' were just examples of words and by the look of it, Lucius managed to piece together that the nightmare was about Draco, and some insane thought of over protectiveness. Lucius arched a graceful eyebrow as he continued to hear the boy mumble incoherently and give occasional whimpers and moans.
Then, everything happened quickly, one moment Harry was simply just whimpering on the bed and the next, he was wildly clutching at the pillow while thrashing on the bed like a wizard under Crucio. And then tears were pouring out of those emerald eyes as the boy wildly cried and mumbled.
Lucius did as instinct taught him and memory. He sat on the bed and slightly forcibly pulled the boy from lying position into sitting position on his lap. Muttering tenderly and comfortingly, in a way completely un- Malfoy like, he drew the boy close to his chest and rocked the small body.
And the most pleasant thing, Lucius was being sarcastic, had happened. Harry Potter had opened his eyes and realised it was Lucius.
Lucius had been relishing memories of James Potter when the boy had woke up and tensed. Remembering hurriedly who he was holding, Lucius had released the boy abruptly, fearing that the boy would be scared rigid. The greenish of the eyes which stared into his for seconds was like a knife, twisting its way into his heart and paining him so much Lucius was overcome with sadness.
Then, the boy did the unexpected, he had leaned into the embrace again, letting Lucius hold him and comfort him. Now, that was disturbing, highly disturbing.
******************************
Next morning
Narcissa Malfoy opened her beautiful grey eyes which were slightly dazed by sleep. A vague silhouette of a man pulling on deep green robes silently in the dimness of Wiltshire at six in the morning told her that Lucius was getting more and more subtle in his movements. When they had been newly married, he used to rouse her from sleep despite him trying to be as silent as possible. Now, she sometimes woke up to find him gone.
'Good morning, Lucius,' she said softly, her voice now adjusting to its melody and firmness as he eyed her warily before nodding curtly and replying, 'I have business at the ministry - Fudge just sent an owl. I leave it to you to see to the two children,' He had finished pulling on the robes and was doing the silver clasps deftly and then pulling his long hair into a strict ponytail.
He was a beautiful man. Narcissa realised if it was not for the fact that she was lesbian by nature, she might have fallen for him. But as it was, they each preferred their own gender and respected each other and their lovers. They each were used to sleeping alone at night while the respective partners were out warming someone else's bed. So there, quid pro quo.
************************************
I wonder where all the reviewers have gone? Dead? Just kidding. Hey you all out there reading this story, review ok?
They really mean a lot to me as they are comments that I refer to for improvement of writing style. . .so, review!!!! Maybe I should make a fair bargain, I review yours, you review mine.....Hahahaha...