LOVE ATROCIOUS
by Yih

This has been beta'd by Blackumbrage (formerly known as Blackumbridge).  She knows she's my bunny block.

Harry is a boy, any female pronoun references are my fault and my beta's blindness.  (All I can say it's hard translating from an original novel.  The original is better, what can I say?  Some things just don't translate well).

Draco's 17; Harry's 27; Severus's 39; Lucius's 43; Tom's late 50's.  (Draco's age has been changed from Chapter 1.)


Father

You were never there
When I needed you
Now you're here
Trying to run my life
I don't need you

It's bad enough
I can't understand
My mother's madness
I don't want to
The past was the past

You knew I was there
Ignore me then
Notice me now?
Why?  May I ask?
Because, you say, you're mine.

I am nobody's anything
You scoff, Nonsense.
I retort, Common sense.
When I needed you
You were never there

Chapter 2
Under the Tortures of the Public Eye

Actors acting.  Flashes flashing.  Reporters reporting.  It was another premiere spectacle. 

The good thing was that Lucius had decided not to aggravate him by bringing a brainless twit that would inflate his superego more than was needed.  Harry didn't mind public events, but he wasn't in the mood tonight.  He shouldn't let Tom get to him, but he as he put it so blatantly was his father regardless of what he thought of him.  If he had anyone to blame, it would be his mother for having an affair with the bastard.  What had possessed his dear, sweet mother? 

            Tom was an asshole.  Cruel, vindictive, and malicious.  Not unlike Lucius, Harry thought disparagingly.  He kept telling him--- kept sniping that he was wasting his life as Lucius's assistant.  It was his life, not Tom's, and who was he to tell him what to do when he had only conveniently decided to appear in it 5 years ago after more than two decades of absentness? 

            "So," a journalist thrust his recorder in front of Lucius's face, "is it true that the divorce to your wife, Narcissa has gone through?  That it was settled outside of court?  The settlement?"

            God, not this again.  That was all the media cared about, the breakup up of a high profile marriage that was not only swamped in Hollywood but in the gentry.  Harry placed his hand on Lucius's arm and squeezed it comfortably.  He wouldn't even hold it against him if he snapped.  Hell, he'd snap and he had a far headier dose of patience than he'd ever possessed.  But Lucius needed to hold his temper back.  Remember, Harry prayed hard, not in front of public scrutiny.

            "I have answered this already," he murmured dryly, but not a trace of rancor, "and I believe I said that it was settled outside of court.  As for the settlement, if it has to do with anyone that would be my ex-wife." 

            Opening his mouth to ask another question, Harry decided this had to be stopped before Lucius lost whatever leash he had on his rage.  "This is off topic," he stated blandly, "as this is the premiere of his new film, Love Liasons.  Unless you have any relevant questions to the film, Mr. Malfoy needs to focus his attention to his fans that have braved this cold weather to see him."

            Cold was a drastic understatement.  It took all Harry's control not to let his teeth chatter.  And of course Lucius insisted that he wear the blasted 'virginal piece' by Snape.  His legs were numb in the thin fabric, while Lucius's were snug in his wool slacks.  Grrr!  If it were not for Lucius's persistence, he would have worn a more sensible attire, but no--- he had to wear Snape's creation. 

            Flustered was always a perversely good look for those bloodsucking journalists.  If he was fond of cackling, he'd let out a cackle spiel.  "None?" Harry inquired with dreadful politeness.  "Well then," he hooked his arm around Lucius's, "his fans are waiting.  Ta tah!" 

            "You're bloody brilliant," he whispered. 

            Harry shrugged.  If he wasn't exceptional, he never would have stayed with him for so long.  "Be nice," he bossed.  "Remember if you didn't have your fans, you wouldn't be in the position that you are today.  I still don't know how any reasonable person could like that perverse sadist you portrayed in Sade is beyond me.  The Marquis de Sade was…"

            "A man far above his time a true nihilist," Lucius murmured.  "If I must see my fans, then let's get it over with.  You don't want your legs to freeze anymore than they have to in this inconvenient weather, do you?"

            Harry rolled his eyes and directed him to an area where several young women were waving around banners that said: 'LUCIUS WE LOVE YOU.'  How heartbreakingly original.  Might as well glance around a bit.  'Lucius is Luscious.'  Somewhat better.  'MALFOY is the BEST!'  Egh.  He could always be better, especially to his fans.  It was about that time of the year to get him to sign some more photos for the fan-mail. 

            That reminded him, he groaned, that he really needed to start on responding to all the Christmas cards Lucius had gotten, not to mention the care packages.  So much that needed to be done and little time to do it.  Then there were the piles of scripts that had been building up.  Just sorting through those was going to take days.  Crap.  He really shouldn't have taken those two weeks off, but… it wasn't like Tom was going to take 'no' for an answer. 

            A finger jabbed his side.  "Have I done enough?" Lucius muttered, making a small gesture to the pictures and posters he'd signed.  They were quite a distance away from where they'd first started.  How many had he signed while he'd been lost in anxieties?  "I'm freezing my ass out here." 

            "I'm sure your arse can take it," Harry retorted, eyes shifting down to check the time.  It was 8:45.  The premiere started at 9:00.  They ought to be heading in.  "You're lucky that it's time that we should be going in.  It starts in 15 minutes."

            "Thank god," he breathed out.  "If I hear one more bloody fan tell me that they think I'm 'divine' or 'heavenly' or 'bloody sexy' I'm going to scream."

            "Oh?  Why is that?"

            "As much as you like to believe that I enjoy the fan worship, let me remind you that you don't get strange phone calls in the middle of the night or get fan mail weekly that propositions marriage or any of that shit."

            "There must have been one fan that didn't overly irritate you."

            "There was one girl," he murmured.  "She was rather sweet.  She was getting a sig for a friend of hers that couldn't make it."  He leaned against him heavily like he was his personal staff.  "You smell good, Harry." 

            He tried to shove Lucius off him, and as he thought--- it proved a disastrously unsuccessful attempt.  His heavy weight was still on him and getting progressively weightier.  What a lazy man!  Didn't even want to carry around his own frickin' mass.  "I didn't take a shower to have you stink me up."

            "More like sex you up."

            God, he was in a good mood today.  What was wrong with him?  "You're not on some day drug are you?"

            "I can't think about you in a sexual context?"  His eyes swept up and down Harry's form.  "You aren't bad looking, you know, Harry.  The virginal vanilla look flatters you.  You look too sweet." 

            Harry rolled his eyes.  "Flattery will only enamor your already obsessed fans.  Won't work on me."

            "Oh really?"  Lucius's body deliberately pressed against his.  "Are you so sure?"
            "Yes!"  He was getting too good at this.  If Lucius ever knew… if he ever found out… Harry'd be mortified.  Lucius wouldn't.  He couldn't!  He might be sharp, but he was oblivious in regards to him.  If he was ever going to find out about his awful affections, that would have been 5 years ago when he'd been horrible at hiding it.  "Now get the hell off of me," Harry hissed.  "You weighty bum."

            Lucius's hand reached up to brush some stray hair off his cheek.  "You know," his breath caressing Harry's skin, "if you were a bit nicer and dressed better, you'd have a lot of blokes after you." 

            "What you're saying," Harry retorted, "is that if I were more willing to bend to the wills of others and clothed myself less like the sluts that are always after your arse, I'd be more appealing to a prick's eye--- eh, Lucius?"

            "If you wish to put it that way…"

            "You are so frustrating."

            "And you, Harry," he drawled, "are easily riled."

            "And you're not?"

            "Only in your presence because I pay for your patience and understanding."

            "I'm your personal garbage can."

            "More like my very own Harry."

            "God save me."

            He smirked and was about to make a skeptical comment about any god saving him since Harry didn't believe in a higher being when he got flagged down by the producer.  "Fashionably late, as always Lucius?"

            "You know me," he responded, furiously keeping out the aggravation.  Zabini was a pain to converse with when it had anything with matters outside film production.  Conceited enough to make him gag.  "Always one prone to the fashionable."

            "Indeed," Zabini remarked, his dark eyes flitting up and down Harry's form.  "My… my, you look ravishing today, Harry." 

            What a flirtatious egoist!  "You look as you do everyday," Harry murmured, saying nothing impolite but he knew Lucius would get the implication.  "And," he glanced down at his watch, "we really must find our seats.  It's about to begin."

            "Touché."  He squeezed his hand.  "The after party is at my mansion.  You two must attend.  Everyone will be expecting you both." 

            "We will be there," Lucius answered curtly.  "Now if you please?"  Zabini moved out of the way, but his eyes stayed glued to Harry's figure.  It unnerved him, and he was grateful when he felt Lucius's arm slip around his waist.  "Don't think about him," he said softly.  "Think about what a romantic fool I play."

            "Yes," Harry commented dryly, "you're excellent at being the fool."

            "Of course.  My acting is always superb."

            "Unfortunately, you did no acting."

            "My pride is in tatters."

            "Good, it could use a good tearing."

            "And that, my sweet, is why you never have a gentleman at your side."

            "Unfortunately for me, I only have a bastard." 

ASSISTING DIVORCE exclusively for Gossip! 

The supposition behind the relationship between the actor, Lucius Malfoy and his assistant…

He whispered sexily into his ear.  That's how the evening began.  It only progressed from there when he placed his arm around Potter's waist and drew him close to his side.  One might call it protective, especially with the lecherous Zabini nearby.  It's eerie how much the producer is like the character in Dangerous Liasons.  A rake through and through.  Lucky for Harry Potter, his dashing actor-boss was there to whisk him away like Prince Charming away from the beast. 

Is it possible that Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy have something amiss in their professional arrangement?  After all, Malfoy is notoriously well-known for being a bit fickle about the people in his professional life.  He's changed agents, what?, nearly 5 times in the last 5 years.  But through all that constant upheaval, Potter has stayed glued to his side as his ever present Assistant. 

Not to mention that his bisexuality has always been heavily speculated, especially with some of the more controversial films he's made portraying himself as a homosexual numerous times.  Of course, that is still in doubt since it's never been widely proven.  If there's anyone that can hide behind a façade--- it's Lucius Malfoy. 

Then there's the little fact that Potter made it clear years ago that he did not like Malfoy's socialite wife, the glamorous Mrs. Black-Malfoy.  No official reason was given for the animosity, but rumor has it that Potter has quite the tongue on his tart lips.  A pity he never lets it loose in public, that would prove a headliner every week.  It's enough to know that Malfoy and Black walked into the courtroom with Potter close to Malfoy's side, and that they exited with an agreement of mutual consent to end a twenty year marriage. 

What a glorious surprise!  Nothing but praise had ever been uttered about how the Malfoys got along together.  Famous friends from childhood and young sweethearts?  Or was it just an arrangement of convenience as some have guessed?  With Malfoy's unfaithfulness?  Does it even matter?  Twenty years of marriage came to an end, and the assistant was there to assist in it. 

Will this affair be kept under a rug neatly swept under a bed if there is one?  The question is how long this relationship between the two of them has been going on if it is indeed so?  Malfoy isn't known for being secretive about his relationships.  Rather he's quite blatant, but Potter is quite the opposite.  Very little is known about him, other than that he's cool, calm, and always collected.  Quite a feat for the fire of controversy that his boss is forever sparking. 

Another fire's lit.  Will it be doused to death or will it burn brightly?  Only they know.

"This is so fucking ridiculous!" Harry exclaimed, slamming the paper down hard enough on the breakfast table that it rattled his tea.  "Where do they make up this kind of shit?  In the frickin' hell hole of ridiculous nonsense where they reside?!!"

            "This isn't so bad," Lucius responded nonchalantly, his eyes flickering over the article with carelessness.  "It's rather tame, actually.  Good piece of writing though for a tabloid.  Then again, Gossip! is one of the better ones of those sorts."

            "I can't believe you're--- you're not raging!"

            "What can I do?"  He shrugged.  Secretively, seeing Harry riled was good fun.  Being blasé about this was only making him more angry.  Harry severely underestimated how well he could read him.  His problem.  And when was the last time he'd cursed like this?  That was an impressive spiel of crudeness.  "It's already printed." 

            Harry growled.  It was almost sexy.  A bit too lacking in gruffness factor, but very decent for a young man.  "Well you don't have to go and be all accepting of it," he muttered.  "Doesn't this upset you at all?"

            "Why should it?  I'm the one that's getting hooked up with a young man, 12 years my junior.  Who wouldn't be pleased?  I must have maddening sex appeal," he stated with that shade of egoism that was his trademark.  "Not that that was ever in doubt."
            "You conceited arse."

            "My arse has every right to be conceited."  

            Harry's mouth was open.  Lucius was anticipating his next retort.  Unfortunately, Harry's mobile had to ring.  And Harry being Harry, he answered it with a pleasant, "Good morning." 

            Just when the conversation was getting interesting too, Lucius thought with a grumble, slicing more bananas into his granola cereal.  He might be out of Narcissa's controlled food regime, but he still wasn't allowed the unhealthy food that he'd like to have.  It wasn't that Harry was regulating his diet; it was more like he didn't keep anything but healthy food stocked.  Lucius cringed.  And he had to live here with Harry for the next month because of settlement issues.  This was going to be a vegetable hell. 

            "A suitable greeting," Harry's father stated sharply.  "You're actually being civil." 

            "I don't have much choice," Harry remarked tightly, his voice slightly strained.  What was Tom doing calling him at 7:30 am?  Shouldn't he be sleeping with his lovely armful of a mistress?  "And what gets you up so early this morning?"

            "You, of course, my darling." 

            He suffocated the urge to snort.  "What do you want from me, Tom?" 

            So that was who Harry was talking to--- his father!  Lucius had been wondering, an appropriate thing to wonder since there was nothing else in which to occupy his attentions other than his conversation.  No wonder he was looking like he'd swallowed something ghastly.  If there was anyone that rubbed Harry the wrong way, it was Tom.  His fork stabbed the sliced banana.  Bloody great, on top of a nutritious breakfast, he had to deal with Harry's pissy mood he'd be in after the phone call ended. 

            "Whatever makes you think I want anything from you, my Harry?"  

            "Because," he grumbled, "you always want something out of me." 

            "I only want to make you see that you're wasting your time and your talent," Tom admonished.  "It is for your own benefit, and if that makes me want something out of you--- so be it.  What father wouldn't want his son to move on to more profitable grounds?" 

            "I like what I'm doing."

            "Then why is your voice so tense?"

            "Because I'm speaking to you!"

            He made the tsk-ing sound Harry hated.  "Where are your manners?  Such crude words from your lips is unforgivable in the son of a titled lord, is it not?  You must always strive to be the perfect gentleman." 

            "I am Potter's son," he growled, "and he is no titled lord." 

            "You are my son!" he roared with fierce possession.  "And do not forget that!" 

            Harry had had enough.  His finger jabbed the end button.  If he absorbed anymore of Tom's words, he'd be a bitch the rest of the day.  As it was, he was probably going to be a nag.  What was on the agenda today?  Nothing bad, he prayed, nothing horribly challenging.  His hand slid to his planner, the vigil of his life, and he opened it. 

            Scanning.  Blinking.  Perusing.  Not too bad.  Another interview, that was going to piss Lucius off.  Terrific.  Then a final fitting for some of the more difficult pieces from Snape.  He needed to thank him personally for the suit.  It had looked lovely on him.  That would get done with.  And… oh fuck.  He had a dinner written in with Tom tonight.  He gritted his teeth.  Was that the reason the bastard had called? 

            His mobile whined again.  "You called because of the dinner tonight," Harry snapped.

            "Yes," Tom answered, "I wanted confirmation that you'd be coming." 

            Shoot!  He was hoping he'd cancel.  "Yes, I'm coming."

            "Good," he commented.  "Wear something appropriate and work on your tone, Harry.  I cannot stand for you to sound disrespectful to me.  I am your father, no matter how much you like to think of Potter as your father.  He is not, and I am.  My driver will pick you up promptly at 7 in front of your flat.  Do be timely." 

            "I will."

            "Good day."

            "Good-bye." 

            "So he did have a reason for calling," Lucius remarked, shoving his dirty bowl to Harry.  "Don't you feel foolish now?" 

            Playful teasing time was over.  They didn't have time for that.  "You have an interview at 9:00, which is also a photo shoot," Harry began in his professional only voice, "and then we will meet Snape at 2:00 for the rest of your fittings.  This is a rather short day, which is a good thing as I will need to meet Tom for dinner at 7:30.  Please try not to wreck my flat while I am away?  Okay?" 

            "I'll try," he drawled.  "But you know how effortlessly bored I get."

            "Then do yourself a favor and do something that will improve your disposition."

            "Ouch," he clutched his heart, "be still my heart the pain of critical commentary!"

            "Shut up Lucius."

            "Never!" 

"Marvelous!"

           "Fantastic!"

           "Yes, move your body like that!"

            "You've got sex written in every crevice of your being." 

            Wonderful, Lucius was going to be exceedingly cocky after this.  Harry outwardly gagged at each profuse comment from the photographer and assistants running around for the cover shoot.  Thank goodness that they had an appointment with Snape after lunch.  If there was anyone that could bring Lucius down a notch without even saying a word, it was Snape.  How he did it, Harry wanted to embrace with a rapture.  And he did it without knowing Lucius's really sore spots.  It was unprecedented. 

             "Stunning!" gushed the photographer.  "If you ever don't continue to make it as a hoity toity actor, come see me!  You've got the most amazing body lines for clothes that I've seen.  I've heard you're getting a formal fitting from Snape.  Do you know how impossible those are to get?  Even for someone like you?

            "He only goes for the best.  You can't request a fitting, he has to invite you to one," he continued, while he kept snapping more gorgeous pictures of Lucius.  As much as Harry hated to admit it, this photographer was brilliant.  How was he going to get a roll of all the shots taken?  Even the bad ones would go beautifully into his ever growing collection of Lucius Malfoy.  "It's a huge honor." 

            "I realize," Lucius snapped, but the photographer was too busy singing praises to notice his muse's annoyance.  Harry knew why he was getting particularly finicky, not that he ever was not, but the photo shoot had gone over the scheduled time period.  That meant less time for Lucius to have to himself.  What they both would give for some leisure… "Are we almost done?"

            "Yes!  Yes!" the photographer exclaimed, still shooting pictures and gesturing for his assistants to change the lighting.  "Just one more change of clothes and we'll be done."  He pursed his lips and tapped his finger against his chin, thinking.  "Why don't we try…" he glanced toward the rack filled with expensive designer names, "hmmm…"

            "Why not the Snape outfits he wore here?" Harry inserted calmly.  "It was specially tailored for him unlike the clothes that you have on the rack, as nice as they are." 

            "Brilliant idea!" 

            That was how they managed to get out a few minutes earlier… but still--- "That was impossibly long!" Lucius growled, stalking out of the magazine headquarters.  "I hate photo shoots, I despise interviews, and premieres are a pain when you've got producers who can't fucking keep their pricks in their pants." 

            Wow, Lucius was pissed.  And in less than an hour they were going to see Snape.  Must cool him off before then.  There was no question of what Harry had to do but how he had to do it.  No need for the two of them to get into an argument with their highly charged temperaments.  If Lucius exploded, Snape would implode.  Things would get nasty.  Nasty was not good.  Nasty Harry did not want to deal with. 

            "Lucius…"

            "I don't want to hear it."

            "You need to…"
            "I BLOODY know I need to calm down!" he burst, slamming the car door for tangible emphasis.  "You don't have to fucking tell me what I need to do every goddamn second of every minute of the day, Harold!" 

            It was a cringe worthy moment.  Since when had he ever called him Harold?  Hmm… when was the last time he called him that?  since… he didn't remember.  Still, it was his tone--- that heady anger that was different.  He usually punctuated his name with aggravation or egotism.  Harry sighed and started up his Jetta.  It was going to be a day in which the day crawled and strained to finish its hours up.  Terrible indeed.

"If his clothes weren't breathtaking on my person…" Lucius muttered, his graceful gait marred by tight shoulders and a rigid back.  Not the effortless elegance he could exude without any strain.  "I wouldn't even be here.  I feel like crap.  I look like crap." 

            Great, he was in one of those downer moods.  He didn't hit them often, not when he had the ego of his size.  When he did, it was a pain.  Everything he did was in the extreme.  Harry breathed in calmly, at least it didn't look like he was going to fall into depression from anything too dramatic.  It must be the suffocating stress that was causing this meltdown.  Lucius had been on worse schedules, but Harry didn't think the Narcissa issue was helping the somewhat hectic weekly itinerary out. 

            "You don't look like crap," Harry murmured soothingly.  "You look fucking gorgeous."

            Lucius's eyebrow perked up and the stress lines near his eyes faded slightly.  "You're joshing."

            Harry made a purpose not to look away from his penetrating gaze.  Didn't want him to think that he was kidding when he wasn't.  How did Lucius not see that he thought he was divine perfection?  He must know.  Maybe not in his conscious, but his superego must know.  It was impossible for him not to know.  He'd been so obvious… not too long ago… and it was only recently he'd started getting better at masking himself--- in the last year or so ago?

            "You self absorbed egoist," Harry muttered.  "You know you're beautiful from the root of your hair to the very edge of your toenails.  You don't have an insecure bone in your body.  If you did, you might be more… how shall I phrase this?… more bashfully approachable." 

            "I'm not approachable?"

            "Not bashfully approachable," he amended.

            Lucius rolled his eyes.  "Who would want to be bashful?"

            "The dwarf from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves." 

            "I mean in reality."

            "What about the loopy guy next door?"

            "What loopy guy next door?"

            "It's a hypothetical.  You know, something that could happen that you ponder…"

            "I know what a fucking hypothetical is," he growled.  "I am not as inanely stupid as you think I am, Harry.  I did go to Oxford, for fuck's sake."

            "Must you be crude all the time?  And you got into Oxford because you're entire family for the last several generations have gone to Oxford.  You're a legacy and nothing more than that.  Your family also has a huge endowment there.  They'd take you even if you're a flaming idiot, which--- luckily--- you're not.  You're just a…" Harry paused thinking, "egotistical arse." 

            A polite knock interrupted them.  "I apologize," said the young man softly.  "I'm here to do the final fitting for Mr. Malfoy.  Snape will be here in an hour to make sure that everything is in order, but I'm to conduct the fitting." 

            At least Snape was coming, Harry thought, he really did want to thank him for gifting him with that marvelous outfit.  It had made him look spectacular, not something, he mused, that was easy to do with dark vapid looks.  Not that he wanted to be the platinum blond beauty of Lucius, but there was something glorious about the golden look.  Harry was satisfied with his insipid appearance.  There were times when he almost looked good. 

            "If you're here," Lucius snapped, "then get on with it." 

            "Yes, sir," the assistant responded gently, "right away, sir." 

            "Take all the time you need," Harry inserted patiently, "I want him to outshine every actor in the business." 

            "Don't I, already?"

            "Never hurts to make the competition look trite."

            "Of course not."  He smirked.  "But what competition?"

            What an egoist!  What a self absorbed egotist! 

Snape was sarcasm given into being.  Harry liked it.  He liked it a lot.  Conversation with him would never be boring, he reflected.  It was always going to be sharp, point blank, and unnerving for those that couldn't keep up.  While he was critically harsh, he was never the least bit unfair in his assessment.  It, he had no doubt, riled Lucius, but with Snape as his designer this season, he had every expectation for him to show up on the Best Dressed List.  Not only that but be the Best Dressed Bloke.  Snape wouldn't settle for anything less.

            "No that's wrong," Snape snapped.  "The way the shirt lines are on his body are off.  Get another one.  That one won't work for his torso.  It makes him look short." 

            "I am not short!" Lucius exclaimed.  He straightened his back to his not short height of 5'11". 

            "Well," Snape smirked, "the shirt makes you look short."  His dark eyes measured Lucius's body.  "And you aren't all that tall to begin with."  That statement wouldn't have that much credence if Snape didn't stand a good 3 inches taller than Lucius.  Lucius was average; Snape was tall.  "Get the other shirt." 

            The assistant ran.  Snape was like a dog's master.  When he commanded, the dog did a trick.  A smile cracked Harry's lips at the simile.  He was entirely too stern of a man for him to ever imagine him cuddling with a puppy.  That would be amusing.  Harry could imagine the fumbling struggle.  He was almost tempted to go out and buy him a puppy, just to see the odd spectacle.  Too bad he didn't know him well enough to do such a thing.  It'd be weird if he did go out and buy him a dog. 

            Snape pursed his lips and circled around Lucius like he was prey.  A strange tradeoff in positions.  Harry had always seen Lucius as being the dominant one, but in this scene he was anything but.  It was Snape, definitely Snape.  Not that Lucius was being submissive, rather his persona wasn't demonstrating the dominance in personality he could exude as easily as he could his gorgeousness.  Maybe he was having an off day.  

            "Your figure," Snape began sharply, "will be vastly improved with my clothes to showcase your body lines." 

            "Vastly improved?" Lucius sneered.  "I think not." 

            Oh god, this couldn't be happening…

            "I think so, considering the appalling garments I have seen you wear."  He smirked.  "One always looks to improve yourself.  Consider this a vast improvement, an unparalleled self advancement that will make you the toast of well dressed actors and continue on with the Snape tradition of making actors into more than they have ever been before." 

            "You…" luckily Harry had the foresight to stand right next to Lucius and his hand slapped across to cover Lucius's mouth before any vile words were uttered.  Lucius didn't have bad tastes, he had rather good taste, but when he compared his fashion selections to that of a genius in the designer world--- he was going to come out the loser. 

            "What he means is," Harry began heavily, "is that you have honored him by choosing to outfit him for this season.  We both are very grateful for allowing him to wear your breathtaking designs." 

            "I am sure he means exactly the opposite," Snape remarked smoothly, moving close to Harry and staring down at him pointedly.  "But that does not concern me as much as knowing that someone more practical realizes the honor I've given to him." 

            He had a marvelously inflective voice.  It was almost in some ways and better in others than Lucius's own tone range.  Sarcasm was a never-ending abyss; conceit was on par with Lucius; the snapping was true snarkiness.  The sneer, that, Harry was not so certain about.  He needed more sneering to judge Snape's sneer effect.  Lucius was the King of Sneer.  The sneer was like a smile was to a beauty queen.  It was what he did well and did often. 

            "He realizes," he protested.  "And," Harry blushed, staring down at his feet since his hands were preoccupied keeping Lucius from saying anything inappropriate, "thank you for the outfit.  It was lovely." 

            "Words mean nothing," Snape stated piercingly.  A cringe almost surfaced if not for the mask Harry had developed to keep his Lucius infatuation hidden.  "If you truly want to thank me," he murmured with some softness, "then join me for dinner on Sunday." 

            He was requesting--- Harry had the option to refuse--- but he didn't think he'd take kindly to a refusal.  It wasn't that he didn't like him, but he was somewhat anachronistic.  His heart, well, wasn't finicky.  What he liked, he grew to love.  And what he loved, it did not fade.  Hadn't 5 long years proven that?  Snape might be interesting to have as a friend, but he wasn't interested in anything more.  If he went… would he be leading him on?

            "It would please me," he added, "if you'd join me for dinner." 

            God, that was so hard to refuse.  He'd asked nicely.  "Okay," he smiled, "dinner it is." 

"Can we get on with this?" Lucius's growl muffled by his hand, having less than its normal ferocity.  He also did not like the way that Snape was playing with Harry by asking him out.  It was Harry, he was--- he was not the type he saw someone like Snape dating.  He was--- he was just Harry!  "Before my legs go numb?" 

            He slapped his thigh playfully.  "Not keeping the body tone you used to eh, Lucius?" 

           Now that Harry's hand was removed from his mouth, he retorted in irritation, "You are the most impossible prat." 

           "And you are the most impossible git."

           "And Snape?" 

           Cat eyes slid to tall, dark, and mysterious.  "He is most interesting." 

           How despicable!  He was doing this to aggravate him, and he was bloody well succeeding.  He knew whatever interest he had in Snape was nothing like the feelings he had for him.  His steel eyes narrowed, what game was he playing?  And why was he playing it?  In the 5 years he'd known him, he'd never known him sully himself with the manipulative tactic.  So why now?

           "I think he is most intriguing," Snape stated smoothly, it made Lucius want to gag.  "And I look forward to seeing you at dinner on Sunday.  I will pick you up at your flat at 7.  Please be prompt, tardiness annoys me." 

           Again, he was gone--- like that.  "How does he know where I live?" Harry wondered aloud.  "I don't think I told him…"

           "It'd be like the git to stalk you."

           "That's crazy."

           "He looks at you like…"

           "Like what?" he questioned sharply.

           "Like he bloody wants to eat you up!"

           Eyebrow quirked upward.  "What an ego lift."

           "It's disgusting."

           "Now if circumstances were in your favor, you'd think quite kindly about it." 

           "But we're talking about your circumstances."

           "Lucius…"

           "I don't like him."

           Harry snorted.  "Who cares if you like him?  I'm the one going to dinner with him." 

           "I happen to have excellent judgment on character." 

           "Like in the case of Narcissa?" 

           "That was a contrived arrangement," he replied dismissively.  "It was done in the interest of maintaining the purity of the Malfoy line, nothing more.  Narcissa was suitable, considering her blood is nearly as blue as my own." 

           "Still, you chose her."

           "I chose her based on bloodlines, not personality.  It does not count."

           "And why didn't you choose her based on character then?" Harry countered.

           "Because," Lucius sneered lightly, "that is not the way things are done." 

"You're a minute late." 

            "I apologize," Harry snapped.  "That I'm merely a minute late." 

            "Don't take that kind of tone with me," he replied sharply, "when you were the one that put yourself in the position to be reprimanded by being late.  Sit down," he commanded.  "And what in god's name are you wearing?"

            He didn't understand his taste in clothes.  True, he didn't want his son parading himself around like a model homo, but he didn't get why Harry felt he had to cover his skin from his neck to his ankles.  Harry was allowed to show some of his lovely skin.  That he wouldn't protest over much.  But this ensemble?  A high neck shirt and long sleeves and a plain black slacks?  Decent enough of an outfit, but not something he'd expect from someone in the circle Harry ran with. 

            "It's called a shirt and a pair of slacks." 

            "I know what they're called," he responded bitingly.  "What I don't understand is why you insist on wearing something so--- chaste and modest.  Aren't boys of your age wanting to flaunt their bodies?"

            "Do you want me to?" Harry retorted.

            "Of course not."

            "Then don't argue with my choice in clothes, and," he stressed heavily, "I am not like most men my age." 

            "No, you aren't," Tom agreed.  "By the time boys hit your age, they're making something out of themselves.  Instead, you're wasting your talent and your life in a job that has no meaning at all."

            "Like you should be telling me what to do when you haven't even been in it for half of it!" he exclaimed, he didn't care if anyone was staring at them.  God, Tom was such a bastard at times!  "You want to be a father, but you can't!  You can't!"

            "I still AM!" he roared.  "I am your father, whether you like it or not!" 

            "Some father you were," Harry muttered, "you were never there when I needed you." 

            "I didn't even fucking know you were my son until a few years ago," Tom responded tightly, a harsh rein of control that kept him from screaming.  "If I had known, I would have come to claim you as my own sooner than five years ago.  If I had, then maybe you wouldn't be wasting your precious life as an assistant to Malfoy." 

            "I am not wasting my life."

            "You could be so much more than what you are.  You are my son," he declared heavily.  "As my son, you have the potential and the opportunities to do whatever you want.  But yet, you insist on remaining stuck to the side of an actor that doesn't appreciate you as much as he should." 

            Well, he did have one point right.  Lucius didn't appreciate him.  If he did, maybe he wouldn't be as annoyed nor as upset when he heard Tom belittling his job as Lucius's assistant.  But the facts were the facts.  It was annoying how Lucius didn't realize how much his life would be royally screwed up without him, and it wasn't likely he was ever going to find out because Harry doubted he'd ever want to leave the job he had as his assistant.  Actually, he knew he wouldn't, unless he for some inane reason let Tom get to him. 

"I like my job," he stated clearly.  "That's more than a lot of people can say." 

            "You can't tell me," he snapped sharply, "that you enjoy tending to that arrogant cad every sodding day of your life!  He is impossible to deal with, or so from what I've heard about him."

            Sometimes, he did wonder on that… the problem was that he happened to be in love with the arrogant cad.  "He's not as impossible once you get to know him like I do," he responded calmly.  "He's just difficult when he gets impatient, which is easy to understand when he's being harassed by the paparazzi everywhere he goes." 

            "Not a particularly strong argument," Tom commented.  "Indeed, it's not one of your best.  I would have expected far more from a linguistic/English major who had considered going to Law School not too many years back.  It's still not too late."

            "I don't want to be a lawyer anymore."

            "You passionately wanted to be one 5 years ago." 

            "Things change, people change."

            "They don't change that much," he whispered hoarsely.  "I don't understand why you're throwing away your life with Malfoy.  You have so much talent and drive and intelligence," he murmured.  "And you're my beautiful son.  You could do anything."

            "I'm happy as I am," Harry stated firmly.  He bit his bottom lip.  "But… thank you for caring." 

            "That's what a father does." 

            "You've never been a father to me," he retorted.

            He sighed raggedly.  "I… apologize."

            "You were my mom's biggest mistake."

            "And you are the result of the one thing I never regretted.

TBC

Author's Note: This was longer than the first chapter by a few hundred words.  Not that much, but it did take me nearly 3 weeks to write it.  Considering how much effort I put into this, I would really appreciate it if you let me know if you like it and why you like it.  Just knowing you like it, is great.  But if you want to tell me why, what scenes stand out, or how my characterizations of Lucius/Severus/Tom are going I'd really like that!  I know Harry's different, but he's a lot older than most fanfics have him as.  Usually he's around 18/19ish but in this fanfic he's 27.  Also, Draco's age has been changed to 17 instead of 18 and 14 (which were in different uploaded versions).  Draco will show up with prominence in Chapter 3 as will Severus (obviously as Harry's going on a date with Sev!!).  So how do you like the role reversals?  Harry's lovesick over Lucius and Severus is pursuing Harry, usually it's Lucius after Harry and Harry after Severus.  What can I say… I like being different.  I also think this is the only serial non-magic HP/LM ship?  And (muahaha) I've returned to my glorious WAD days!  Enjoy it!  Review it!

Thanks to the following reviewers (you are uber great and this chapter wouldn't have been possible without you!): HecateDeMort, Ancalyme (writing FF? I don't understand), Quila (who said it was rape?), devlish_angel, Eaiva le Fay (thanks, I do try), NegaQueen Voldemort (wow -_-), crissy, Protect Jade (HP/LM is delicious), Sakrchan (Glad I'm consistently readable!), Lolita (haha, I'm good for something), eav, athenakitty, Tracy Mintzmyer (who said it's only HP/LM?), oracale, Separatrix, Nemati, roxierocks, rhianwyn carma (Harry's a pill to Lucius's prick-y-ness), sigildagger (best short review ever), Lasitar (answered all your questions except the one about why Harry is Lucius's assistant, that'll happen sometime soon and you're dead on about Harry saving Lucius, -chuckles- you're insightful, keep it up!), Lindiel Eryn, Layce74, April, mySakurazukamori (blind as in he can't see the obvious), atalante, illucia (I never said it was going to be a true threesome, just that it's possible), bet's, LunaBard, silversfall1, mothermindgames, ~Mary~ (Harry's history will come out eventually, you're predicting things quite well), MyOriginalIntent, Quoth the Raven, Miranda, demora, Toxikos, siriuslybored, Pixiestyxs, Kathy stgqvk, Redrum (thanks, I did write the poem), care, MistWalker, and Alicorn. 

Chapter 3 is coming soon.  At the earliest in 2 weeks, at the latest by the end of March!