A/N: It's summer. That usually means I can update more, but anything is more than nothing, right?

Thank you Siren of the DarknessFlame, Kenna Hija, Sinfulz, Escaped, Kenny7, Trafalger, Ice and Fire Vanessa, JasonIssacsIsSexyAsHell, BenjisVIP, and everyone else who has taken the time to review.

Lucius is the bane of Harry's existence, and that is putting it lightly. Voldemort is a mere inconvenience compared to Lucius. Lucius irks Harry on every level it was possible for a human to be irked and Harry owes him his life. Well, to be mathematically correct, Harry owes Lucius two lives.

/Lost in his kiss with Lucius, images swim through Harry's mind. Some are of random things like blast-ended skrewts riding unicycles and juggling plates, but most are related. The most predominate image is that of a child. "Promise it." Lucius' voice is inside Harry's head, or at least that is what Harry assumes, since Lucius' mouth is otherwise occupied.

Harry chooses not to understand what's being asked of him.

"Promise it or they die here," Lucius says.

"You're changing the bargain," Harry complains.

"And?" Harry can hear the smirk in Lucius' reply. He feels the weight behind Lucius' words. The man has no qualms about letting Harry and his friends die.

"I promise." Harry hears a gasp, looks up to find Ron and Hermione very much alive. He freezes. Lucius glances over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione and laughs, poisonous velvet rumble in his throat.

"Remember our deal," he whispers.

Their parting kiss is sour on Harry's lips. /

Harry can go for weeks without remembering this scene, but when he does remember, he loses sleep, hope, sanity. He stares out of the window, regretting the bargain he will have to keep. But there is hope. If he can go far enough, maybe Lucius wont' find him.

He is tired of the memory of Lucius. He is tired of remembering that kiss- not just the promise he'd made, but the physical aspects of the kiss. He wants a comparison. No, he wants more than that. He wants something to eclipse that kiss and burn the taint of Lucius out of him permanently.

He is tired of being a Muggle. The Muggle world is vast, yes, but he has never been comfortable there and there must be places in the wizard world he can hide. Before he vanishes again, there are some things he'd like to take care of.

The house looks tidy and respectable. Outside, there is hardly any evidence that this isn't a normal home. There is even a mailbox...albeit one with an owl perch and some owl treats. Harry knocks on the door nervously. He has never been here. He has never been invited. He had to send Hedwig to get the address. She had looked at Harry with the owl equivalent of surprise. Harry hadn't had anything for her to do in ages, but she had done her job swiftly and correctly.

The door opens and a brown-haired woman with a baby on her hip opens the door. She nearly drops the baby in surprise. "Harry?" she whispers incredulously.

"Hello, Hermione, may I come in?" She steps aside wordlessly. Harry smiles. Inside, the house looks much like the Burrow. For one, the house is much bigger on the inside. Then there is the matter of the little oddities that are on the shelves. And then there are the pictures. They wave to him from the wall and he swallows a lump in his throat when he realizes that the pictures are of the three of them--Ron, Hermione, and himself--at Hogwarts.

He turns to face his hostess, who immediately snaps at him. "Where have you been for the past two years, Harry James Potter?" He jumps.

"How did you know my middle name was James?" he asks. She shrugs.

"I didn't. It just seemed like the most likely possibility." He grins and looks around.

"Nice home you have here."

"Thank you," she says curtly.

"And what a beautiful child!" The child is indeed lovely. He is delightfully round and rosy-cheeked with big, golden eyes. His hair is darker than Ron's and redder than Hermione's and the only trace of the famed Weasley freckles is a light sprinkle across his nose. "Can I hold him?" Hermione hands Harry the baby without hesitation.

"What's his name?"

"H.D. Weasley," she says, beaming at her son.

"H.D.?" Harry asks, puzzled. She nods.

"Well, his first name is Harry." Harry blushes. "And his middle name- well officially it's just an initial- stands for Draco." Harry's eyes widen.

"No!"

"Yes." She giggles.

"How on Earth?"

"Well, secretly, I've always rather liked the name Draco and Draco did save our lives during the war once-"

"Or three times."

"No, you saved our lives three times during the war." Four, Harry corrects mentally.

"I showed up, yes, but I wouldn't have known you were in danger if Draco hadn't kept telling me, 'Potter, you're incompetent Weasel is about to get himself and his girlfriend killed AGAIN'," Harry says, doing his best to imitate the Malfoy drawl. Hermione laughs.

"Well, anyway, I convinced Ron that we owed Draco a debt and that the least we could do was give our child his initial." Said child begins to fuss.

"And he went for that?" Harry asks, bouncing the child up and down in his arms. He goes cross-eyed and puffs his cheeks, earning a pleased gurgle.

"He replied that if I followed that logic then I should name our second child after Snape. I told him that was a wonderful idea."

Harry chuckled, only to be smacked lightly in the shoulder by Hermione. "How dare you change the subject! Where have you been?" she asks. Harry shrugs.

"Around," he replies offhandedly.

"Gee, that explains everything. One minute you're living with Lucius Malfoy and attending our wedding; the next, you're gone. Poof! Vanished! And no one has a clue where you disappeared to. I was beside myself with worry!" She smacks Harry again for good measure and takes H.D. out of Harry's arms. H.D. is giggling profusely.

"You like your godfather, don't you? I knew you would. Yes, I knew you would," Hermione says in a high-pitched voice. The child squeals. Harry swallows.

"I'm sorry. His what?" he asks, certain he has not heard correctly.

"Oh, yes. He thinks that just because he dropped of the face of the earth, Mummy and Daddy forgot all about him. But we didn't, did we, poppet?" H.D. gurgles. "No, we didn't!"

"You had forgotten about me before that," Harry says quietly. Hermione drops the baby talk and turns to face Harry, brows knit in puzzlement.

"What are you talking about?"

"The night we destroyed Voldemort, when you and Ron saw me and Lucius..." he trails off, loathe to recall the incident. Hermione blinks for a second.

"Oh," she says finally. "I had forgotten about that."

"Forgotten about it! You treated me like a pariah because of it!"

"How would you feel if you had nearly died to save the world and then found your best friend, perfectly all right, dry humping the enemy?"

"I wasn't dry humping Lucius Malfoy!" Harry insists hotly.

" Right, well that's what it looked like from our angle."

"What makes you think that I would be rutting up against Lucius, of all people, regardless of the angle?"

"Let's see. You never dated anyone. You were partners with his son. You dragged Ron and I to the funeral. During negotiations with prisoners the only Death Eater you ever dealt with was Lucius and you two would be alone in a locked room for hours. Draco even used to invite you to the manor, for Christ's sake, and heaven help us if we could figure out how, but you always managed to return unscathed."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It makes for a lot of pieces that don't quite fit. Then add in a scene of you playing tonsil hockey with Lucius on a bloody floor and the picture makes sense."

"You thought I was fucking Lucius Malfoy?" H.D. begins to cry. Harry sighs. " I'm with you kid."

"How were we supposed to know different?"

"You could have asked!"

"Yeah, right. 'Pardon me, Harry, but are you having an affair with an evil blond man old enough to be your father and who might have had a hand in killing your parents?' I don't think that would have gone over very well." Hermione sticks a pacifier in H.D.'s mouth.

"And then you went to live with Lucius and the only reason that man isn't in Azkaban right now is because you asked Ron to pardon him as a personal favor. What reason would you have for doing that if he wasn't your lover?" she asks over her shoulder, lowering H.D. into a playpen.

"He saved our lives, Hermione."

"Out of the goodness of his heart, I suppose?" she responds dryly as she drapes a blanket over her son. Harry has no reply.

After a moment, Harry speaks. "I have never had Lucius Malfoy as a lover," he says firmly. His voice is so cold that Hermione stares at him in wonder.

"Fine," she says.

There is a moment of silence as they both stare at the floor, ashamed of having come to this, ashamed of mistrusting each other.

"So," Hermione says at last. "Are you staying for dinner?"
So...more soon. By soon, I mean like within less than a month. Maybe less than 2 weeks. I have been remiss in my authoring duties. I apologize and I intend to make up for it. Meanwhile, be a dear and review!

Love always,

J. Silver