Fic: Pavo Cristatus, (Lucius/Harry, NC-17)
Feb. 1st, 2010 11:48 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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hpkinkfestTitle: Pavo Cristatus
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
melusinahp
Prompt Number: 96 submitted byentrenous88
Kink Showcased: Buying teenage sex partner -- daddy/owner kink
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Lucius/Harry
Summary: In order to outwit a Slytherin, one must first learn to think like a Slytherin.
Warnings: AU, non-con, Harry is 17
Word Count: 6,800
Author's Notes: So much love tokennahijja, whose advice made this a much better fic, to themostepotente for betaing, and to marguerite_26, winnett, and flamewarrior for hand holding and great suggestions.
Day Twelve
Rushing blood heated the skin on Harry's face. His hands coiled into fists as Lucius’s fingers curled around his cock. He pressed his forehead into the pillow, arse in the air, eyes shut tight, and let Lucius shove his legs apart with his knee. The hand that wasn’t wanking him slid between Harry’s arse cheeks, and when the first finger pressed inside, slick and warm, a moan burst free from deep within his chest. Harry’s shoulders trembled with the force of it, and Lucius froze.
Harry had tried to keep quiet; he hated showing any signs of pleasure, probably because Lucius ate up every gasp and sigh with a smirk of such patronising glee that Harry wanted to rip his eyes out of his skull with his bare fingers.
This time, however, something clicked deep in the depths of Harry’s shock-blurred mind – Lucius froze.
Lifting his face a centimetre from the pillow with Lucius’s finger now twisting inside him and thumb flicking the head of Harry’s cock, Harry tried something new. He moaned again, this time letting the sound fill the room, and pressed back against Lucius. The hand on Harry’s cock squeezed reflexively tight and Lucius gasped.
Seconds later Lucius thrust his cock inside him far too forcefully, making Harry bite into the pillow to keep from crying out, and the brief moment of triumph was gone. Harry remembered it later, though, as he soaked in the bath, his arse stinging like murder in the soapy water and the back of his neck tender against the porcelain where Lucius’s hand had held him down.
It was only a small realisation, just a crack, barely big enough to lever open, but it was something. For that one split second, Harry had owned Lucius. Closing his eyes and sinking beneath the suds until the water winnowed the world away and his pulse echoed through his head, Harry realised that a bit of swallowed pride now could lead to… Well, not freedom, but perhaps the beginnings of it. And for the time being, that was enough to make him rise to the surface and suck in a cool breath of air.
* * *
Day One
Rage kept Harry warm despite his lack of proper clothing. It burned through his pores with a toxic, stinging heat. Kneel, said the voice in his head, gliding through his mind, coy and plying. I won’t, Harry answered back. He ground the knotted knuckles of his fists together, cold, iron manacles keeping his wrists locked in front of him. His chest rose and fell, eyes open but unseeing as he fought for control.
The curse was abruptly withdrawn, tearing out of his mind like a whip-crack. Harry gasped and blinked. He could hear Borgin trying to sway the crowd: "something rather special today," "for a temporary period at the Dark Lord's consent," and "defiant, but well-worth the effort." He stayed stock-still, the wood of the platform rough beneath his braced feet. As his vision cleared, he kept his chin up and his back straight. The room was crowded; it stunk of sweat and the lingering sulphuric smoke of dark magic. The tattered dregs of Voldemort's supporters -- hags, necromancers, Snatchers and the like -- lurked at the edges and corners of the room, while the Death Eaters gathered towards the front near the platform.
The gaze of numerous eyes tickled his bare skin. Harry ignored them. Their voices blurred into an indecipherable buzz.
This was a setback. A big one. But Ron and Hermione had escaped with the Horcrux, and that was the important thing. Merlin knew what the highest bidder would have in store for him, but Harry knew he could take it. And he'd take the first opportunity to escape. This was just temporary.
Bidding started, and Harry closed his eyes. Five Galleons, ten, twenty. He bit his lip and shivered, holding back the urge to laugh. Who'd known how many Death Eaters had been dying to take him home with them?
"Twenty-five," shouted a man.
"Thirty," responded a rough, feminine voice that made Harry's eyes open wide. He scanned the crowd and found her. She stood near the front, wearing shimmering black robes, her eyes bright and hungry, her mouth curled into a predatory smile.
Not Bellatrix. Harry's skin prickled into gooseflesh. Merlin. Anyone but her. Although he did his best not to let his face change, not to show distress, her smile grew, exposing her teeth. She cocked her head to the side and soundlessly moved her lips, forming the words: Little baby Potter. Harry's saliva turned acrid -- a sense memory of the Cruciatus Curse.
Not her.
He swallowed. The room was silent. His stomach tightened into a knot of cold pain.
Then another voice, also familiar but masculine, silky and edged with cold pleasure. “Fifty Galleons.”
Harry snapped his neck to find the source, and met ice-grey eyes. The man stood out tall, pristine and elegant in the eclectic crowd. His white-blond hair, drawn back into a plait down his back, gleamed in the torchlight. He wore robes of deep red velvet and a cool smile. Lucius looked Harry up and down, his gaze slithering over Harry's bare legs and across his chest and shoulders, coming to rest on the thin, linen pants that were all that protected Harry's modesty. For the first time that evening, Harry felt naked.
He wasn’t frightened of Lucius Malfoy. He flexed his fingers and strengthened his stance, glaring down at Lucius. Looking away from Harry's crotch to catch and hold his eyes, Lucius didn't change his expression. His eyes merely crinkled at the corners.
"Curse, you, Lucius," said Bellatrix. "The boy is mine!" She turned back towards the platform. "Sixty Galleons!"
"You'll only waste him, Bella, there won't be anything left for the rest of us. No. I'm certain the Dark Lord would prefer him in my hands."
A strange, dark laughter bubbled through Harry's chest as he watched them argue.
"You know nothing of the Dark Lord's wishes. I'll teach the boy his place." She looked back at Harry, eyelids lowered, and licked her lips. "He'll be meek as a mouse by the time I'm through with him."
Lucius sighed and lifted his hand towards Borgin without looking away from Bellatrix. "One hundred Galleons! You'll present him to our Lord with his brains leaking out his ears. While I…" He looked directly at Harry again, the corner of his mouth turning up. "Will leave at least that part of him intact."
Harry blinked and parted his lips, seized tight by the greed gleaming in Lucius's eyes. Heat prickled across his cheeks along with a thick, sickening dread. Lucius raised his eyebrows, then threw back his head and laughed.
* * *
Day Fifteen
Pacing the room, Harry went over the plan in his mind.
He knew he had to play it carefully. Lucius was clever in ways that Harry couldn't emulate -- each word and gesture was geared to get under Harry's skin and twist. Both threats and false promises came wrapped in the same smooth, taunting voice.
And for Harry, all blunt fury and impatience, each and every act of submission felt like a chunk of flesh ripped from his body.
He could learn, though. He had to.
That evening when Lucius entered his chambers, Harry let his shoulders slump. He got heavily to his feet and let the dressing gown slip to the floor.
Lucius watched, his lips pressed tightly together. Harry stood still as Lucius approached him, but turned his face away when he drew near. He tried -- and it wasn't difficult -- to present a picture of misery and resignation.
Hot breath hit Harry's neck as Lucius sighed in irritation. For a moment, Harry thought he'd gone too far. There was, after all, always the chance that Lucius would lose interest entirely if Harry didn't play along, and then… And then…
No. Harry had to make sure that didn’t happen.
So, when Lucius took hold of his shoulder, he gasped and closed his eyes. Lucius chuckled and bent down to lick Harry's bare neck, wrapping an arm around the small of his back to pull their bodies together. Instead of fighting his erection, Harry ground his hardening cock against Lucius's thigh, jerking his hips forward as if he couldn't help himself.
Lucius pushed Harry backwards until he lay flat on the bed, spread out naked beneath Lucius who was still entirely clothed. As Lucius bent Harry's leg and pushed back his thigh, a tight sob escaped from Harry's throat.
"Hush…" whispered Lucius, his voice laced with amusement. He took hold of Harry's flushed and eager cock and squeezed until Harry began to pant and claw at the bedding.
"You're learning, Harry. It's so much nicer when you give in to what you really want. And you have wanted this for a very long time, haven't you?"
Harry thought of being twelve and facing Lucius down a long Hogwarts corridor, of being fourteen and tied to a gravestone while Lucius bowed before Voldemort and jeered as Harry was tortured, of being fifteen and white hot with fury as Lucius faced him bold as brass in the Ministry of Magic.
"You're mad," he gasped.
"Am I?" asked Lucius, jabbing a finger into Harry and twisting it until he let loose another sob.
"You… are!" Harry grasped his thighs behind his bent knees and pulled his legs to his chest, wanting it to be quick, wanting it to be over.
Lucius laughed as he freed his cock and settled between Harry's spread legs. Harry kept his face turned away and ground his teeth together.
"Just do it," he whispered.
"Yes?" Lucius took hold of Harry's cock again and began to stroke him slowly and firmly.
Harry bit his lip. He squeezed his eyes shut to keep them from tearing up. He struggled against the fervent desire to deny his arousal and push Lucius away; he stuffed it deep, down inside, tight into a box, and locked it. A cold shiver rushed across his skin. He arched his back.
"Yes," he whispered back to Lucius. "Please."
* * *
Day One
Lucius disappeared into the depths of the Manor as soon as they entered the drawing room, leaving Harry in the care of a red-complexioned, lumpy-nosed house-elf named Klottle. Harry immediately turned and made for the exit in the front hall, but Klottle snapped his fingers and his feet stuck fast to the floor.
"The Mufkin will follow Klottle to his chambers." Klottle's voice was deep and croaky. "Master wishes it so."
"I'm not a 'Mufkin,'" Harry muttered. "And he's not my master."
With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Klottle snapped his fingers again, allowing Harry the use of his feet. Harry followed him through a door, down a corridor, around corners, down flights of stairs, until he was sure the elf was leading him on a merry chase just to confuse him. The walls became barer and the floors changed from marble to wood and finally to rough stone. They were far from the centre of the house, which Harry supposed was good. The very last thing he wanted to do was to run into any other members of the household.
Finally, Klottle led him into a room. Harry stopped short. In his worst imaginings he'd pictured rat-infested straw on a cold dungeon floor. He hadn't expected comfort and he certainly hadn't expected this small but almost luxurious room with a canopied bed, lush carpet, and a colourful tapestry decorating the wall. In one corner stood an elegant wooden dressing table, in another an elaborately carved armoire. Torches burnished the room in amber light. He nervously fingered the leather collar they'd fastened around his neck after Lucius had paid for him. The rat-infested straw would have been less ominous.
Klottle closed the door behind them. The lock clicked into place, and then he disappeared through a door Harry assumed led to the bathroom once he heard the sound of a bath being filled. He looked around, wondering what Lucius intended to do with him. His eyes came to rest on the tapestry. At first it looked to be the usual battle scene -- various men in various stages of undress were grappling with each other, and… Harry blushed and looked away, his hands opening and closing.
Klottle came back into the bedroom. He snapped his fingers at Harry, and Harry's pants vanished in a puff of smoke, making Harry yelp and then cover himself with his hands. Being naked in front of a house-elf was strangely mortifying. "The Mufkin will bathe himself thoroughly. Then he will dress himself in the robes hanging in the armoire. Master Lucius will attend to the Mufkin at some point during the evening."
Attend to.
What exactly did that mean?
Klottle left and Harry found himself pulled towards the enticing fragrances wafting forth from the bathroom. He'd been cold and dirty for days and the steam smelt wonderfully clean. He was surprised to find that bath was larger than the entire bedroom, large enough for swimming. Thinking of the Prefect's bath at Hogwarts, Harry stepped into the gloriously hot water and sat, going limp, letting it push and pull his body. Peace, comfort and solitude lapped at his arms and legs and Harry's knotted muscles quivered hard and then relaxed.
Strange, so strange, that Lucius would allow him to refresh himself this way.
After scrubbing himself with the soapy contents of one of the glass bottles lining the bath's edge, Harry rinsed off and got out. He felt infinitely better, but this wasn't the time to let his guard down. He dried off and went back into the bedroom to get dressed.
The 'robes hanging in the armoire' turned out to be a black silk dressing gown embroidered with blue and gold birds. It had no hooks or buttons, but only a ribbon to tie around his waist and keep the garment fastened. It wasn't clothes. Harry searched every corner of the armoire but didn't find any pants or shoes. Chewing on his lower lip, he slipped the gown on and tied it, tight. Then he tested the door and scanned the room for anything that could be used as a weapon.
Nothing.
Maybe he could garrotte Lucius with the belt of his dressing gown.
After a moment he spied a tray on the table laden with bread, cheese and grapes. A crystal glass seemed, upon sniffing, to be filled with wine. Harry wolfed down the food, it was the cleanest and freshest he'd seen in a week and he was too hungry to resist it, but gave the wine a miss. Merlin only knew what it was laced with.
He was wiping the crumbs off his mouth with the back of his hand when the door swung open.
Lucius had changed into simple navy-blue robes. He closed the door behind him, his light hair stark against the dark wood. He remained still, gazing at Harry. Harry lowered his arm and stared back.
"You look fetching in that robe. I knew you would." With slow, deliberate steps Lucius began to cross the room. Scowling, Harry widened his stance. Lucius paused at the tray that had held Harry's food and lifted the wine glass. "You've had enough to eat?"
Harry narrowed his eyes, his muscles suddenly aching again.
"Didn't like the wine?" Lucius twirled the stem of the glass, letting the liquid paint the bowl, before taking a sip. "That's a shame. It's an excellent vintage and would have helped you relax." He took a longer drink, then replaced the glass on the tray.
"You won't keep me," Harry blurted out. "I'll find a way to escape."
With a smile that levered Harry's discomfort up into full-blown panic, Lucius took a step towards him. "Tell me," he said, his voice a low murmur that nevertheless carried through the entire room, "now that you've come to this." He made a sweeping gesture encompassing Harry and their surroundings. "Now that you've been brought this low… How is it that you dare to address your master in such a manner?"
"Master." Harry spat the final syllable. "You're dreaming."
"Oh no, Harry. Neither of us is dreaming." Closing the space between them, Lucius hooked his index finger through the metal loop at the front of Harry's collar and pulled, making Harry's head flop back and lifting him onto the balls of his feet. He leant down and, in a harsh whisper that tickled Harry's ear, said, "This is all very real."
Harry stood it for several long moments and then twisted away, grunting as he jerked his neck free of Lucius's hold.
His breath was coming fast, making him dizzy. He wanted to run. He wanted to attack. He wanted to make Lucius and his smirk disappear. "Don't touch me," was all he said.
"Oh, I will touch you."
Harry tried to step away, but Lucius's hand snaked out and grabbed a handful of hair at the back of his head.
"I can do anything I want to you, Harry." Lucius tightened his grip and moved his face until their noses were almost touching. "And I will. And you won't be able to do a thing to stop me."
Harry's face burned and his mind went cold when realisation hit him. A horrible, unwanted thrill shot up his spine, and he twisted, pulling away and holding the silk of his dressing gown tightly closed. “No.” His back hit one of the bedposts. “I’m not… You can’t.”
Lucius pulled his teeth over his bottom lip, running his eyes across Harry's face and clearly enjoying the distress he was causing. He grinned, the torchlight reflecting in his eyes and making them glimmer. “Whatever did you think I’d bought you for?”
With his chest tight and hot, Harry shouted. “I won’t let you.”
“Let me? I think you will.” Lucius pressed forward, chin lowered, eyes locked on Harry’s face.
Harry braced himself.
With a chuckle, Lucius leant in and for a moment Harry thought he might try to kiss him. He could feel the heat of Lucius's body and smell the remnants of the slave market on his skin. Harry looked up and met Lucius’s eyes, which held nothing but glee and hunger.
"You're sick," said Harry, his voice much thinner and higher than he wanted it to be.
"What does it matter what you want, my frightened little rabbit?" With a playful finger, Lucius drew a path down Harry's temple, across his cheek, finally pressing hard into the centre of his lower lip. "The Dark Lord will be ready for you soon, and I’m going to make the most of you while I can."
Harry sucked in a deep breath and then hit out at Lucius with everything he had. One fist connected with Lucius's jaw, the other with his shoulder. He drove his knee into Lucius's thigh. Staggering backwards, Lucius threw one arm in front of his face and pointed the other, and his wand, towards Harry.
Harry flinched, but instead of the word he'd expected, Lucius said, "Levicorpus!, and Harry was suddenly airborne and upside-down. He kicked and thrashed, catching glimpses of Lucius's red and furious face. Lucius flicked his wand and Harry floated over the bed. A second later, he crashed down onto it, his dressing gown coming open and leaving him exposed.
Before Harry could catch his breath, Lucius was on top of him, his fingers closing around Harry’s throat, pressing the collar into his skin until Harry’s pulse leapt frantically. Blood thundered through his temples.
"If you insist," Lucius enunciated, "on making this difficult for me, then it will be that much harder on you." He tightened his grip further and fuzzy grey stars bloomed across Harry's vision. "Now," Lucius leaned down, his plait falling over his shoulder to lie across Harry's cheek, and spoke directly into his ear, his voice rough and breathless, "I am going to fuck you. And you will submit to me. Because, Harry, like it or not, you are mine."
As Lucius finally released his throat, allowing Harry to gasp for air, the words, fuck you, flashed through Harry's head. Warmth seared across his skin, his groin stirred, and his mouth flooded with tart hysteria. It was going to hurt and it was sex and Harry didn't want it to be Lucius Malfoy.
“No. No! Get off me.” He twisted, hitting at Lucius’s hips with his knee, trying to get his foot beneath Lucius’s body so he could kick him off. His breath came in wet gasps. Hissing, Lucius drew back, his wand arm raised.
"Do I need to tie you up? If it will be easier on you to feel helpless, then I'm more than happy to oblige."
Harry stared up at the face looming above him. Lucius's blown pupils, flushed cheeks and avaricious mouth. His clear enjoyment of what he was doing to Harry, despite or because of Harry's willingness to fight, sent Harry suddenly numb.
"No," Harry said. "Don't tie me up." He wouldn't allow Lucius to make him any more helpless than he already was.
"If you attack me again, I'll bind your wrists to your ankles, and I can assure you that you'll regret it."
Harry didn't respond. He lay still on the bed as Lucius began to remove his own clothing, long fingers dancing over his robes's fastenings. Black silk pants slid off Lucius's hips, revealing his cock, which was hard, flushed and in Harry's eyes impossibly long. Once again, a sickening tremor passed through his groin.
Grey spots swam again across his vision as Lucius kneed his legs apart and knelt between them. Harry was meant to be miles away, searching for Ravenclaw's diadem with Ron and Hermione. He could have been curled in his bed at Hogwarts, in front of the fireplace at the Burrow, locked up tight in the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley's… Anywhere but here.
Lucius's fingers curled around Harry's flaccid cock and Harry's body jerked. His hand automatically flew up to pull Lucius off, but Lucius only gripped him tighter. "It doesn't have to be all bad, you know," he whispered.
An ache of pleasure quivered to life beneath Lucius's hand, and Harry dug in his fingernails and choked out, "Stop."
"Very well then," Lucius responded with what sounded like genuine disappointment.
When Lucius hauled Harry's legs up until his knees were bent over Lucius shoulders, he thought he'd die of humiliation. Droplets of perspiration glistened on Lucius's brow; his breathing became ragged. Harry tried not to squirm or cry out as Lucius penetrated him with his fingers, probing and stretching him, smearing him with the sweet-smelling unguent he'd taken from his pocket.
Harry let his mind float away. He wouldn't think of his friends, wouldn't think of happier times or places -- he didn’t want those things anywhere near what would become his memory of that night. He tried to make himself go blank and empty.
But then Lucius withdrew his fingers and resettled himself. Harry realised what was about to happen and shuddered with the sharp, cold effervescence of adrenaline. Lucius pressed forward, pushing his cock into him, and Harry swallowed a cry. It hurt. Much more than he’d expected it to. He could take the pain, but it stabbed through the walls in his mind, letting the humiliation seep through; he couldn’t defend himself against both at once. He sucked in a breath, trying to regain control of himself.
Lucius chuckled and then thrust forward again, hissing, "Yes..." Harry cried out, quickly clamping his jaw shut to keep it in. This would damage him permanently; he was sure of it. The pain was searing. The muscles of his stomach and thighs cramped and seized. Lucius was far too big to be inside him that way. He closed his eyes and turned his face away, but Lucius gripped his chin and wrenched his head forward.
“Look at me. I want to see your eyes.”
Harry squeezed his eyes closed even tighter, grasping hold of that one small rebellion. He heard Lucius exhale sharply and the grip on his jaw constricted.
"You will learn," Lucius pulled back slowly -- Harry held his breath -- and then slammed back hard into Harry, making him wail. Lucius paused, panting, and then gave a dark chuckle. "You will learn that there is very little to be gained in disobeying me."
Lucius fell into a fast rhythm, snapping his hips forward, thrusting into Harry with enough force to make the bed shake. Harry’s head bumped against the headboard. His fingers and toes curled tight, every muscle tensed, every fibre of his being willing Lucius off him and away. He focussed on keeping silent, on holding back the sounds trying to escape his aching throat. But the assault went on and on until there was nothing left but the grinding agony of Lucius's heaving body. Harry's mind went red.
When Lucius finally shouted and shuddered above him, Harry tasted blood and realised that he'd bitten into his lower lip. He heard the buzz of Lucius's voice but couldn't focus on the words. Harry's eyes were open now. The world seemed fuzzy and far away.
Lucius slithered out of Harry's body and moved away. He was still talking. Harry rolled onto his side and hugged his knees to his chest. He shivered, staring blindly forward.
The door opened. A tray was placed on the bedside table.
"See that he takes his potions and washes again," said Lucius, "and change the sheets."
Eventually Harry smelled flowery soap and the noise in his ears became the sound of rushing water. He thought to get up and scrub himself clean, but he was shaking too hard to move.
* * *
Day Twenty
As he swallowed a mouthful of thick, fruity wine, a sudden slice of nausea cut through Harry's belly -- he was getting used to this way of life. It hadn't taken long.
He was never allowed to leave his rooms. Harry knew that an hour or so after he awoke, Klottle would bring him breakfast. Then he'd go for a swim, dry off, pace around the room one hundred and sixteen times and lunch would arrive. After picking at the food on the tray, he'd thumb through one of the dusty books he'd found in the drawer of the bedside table or try and remember a spell beginning with each letter of the alphabet. He often imagined using them one by one against Lucius until there was nothing left but a quivering pile of stinking, shredded innards. After that he'd take a nap.
Evenings were less predictable. Sometimes they'd be uneventful, and Harry spent them pacing, trying unsuccessfully to dismantle the furniture, and wondering if it was possible to tell if you'd gone mad or if it happened without you noticing. Sometimes Lucius would visit.
On this occasion Harry had decided to move his plan along one crucial but very risky step. As soon as Lucius swept into the room, his hair hanging loose down his back,
Harry moved to the bed and flopped face down on the bedcovers. He lay there, prone and waiting.
Lucius's footsteps stopped and then began again until Harry felt his presence looming behind him. The skin on his back prickled and his cock stirred against the cotton. It's part of the plan, Harry told himself, and dug his fingernails into the bedding. He remained still as Lucius ran fingers up his thighs. He allowed Lucius to roll him over. When Lucius began stroking Harry's cock, Harry closed his eyes and thought of nothing.
"What do you think you're doing?" asked Lucius in a voice just sharp enough to make Harry's muscles tighten.
"Huh? I'm… You know. Why don't you just get on with it."
"Don't play games with me, Harry. You haven't the wit."
"I'm tired, all right? I haven't seen sunlight for weeks, nor had any fresh air. I've been stuck in this room. I don't even have any proper clothes! And you--" He propped himself up on his elbows, sucked in a deep breath, and yelled, "I'm not in the bloody mood."
His shoulders shaking with silent laugher, Lucius rested his hands on either side of Harry's waist. Harry stared into his face, at the cratered grey of his irises. There was no overt sign of corruption, nothing to tell Harry why he was doing this to him -- only cold amusement. "Not in the mood? What a shame. We'll have to see what we can do about that."
This time, Harry was going to have to let Lucius win the challenge.
Allowing the walls in his mind to crack enough for him to feel, without letting all the rage and horror flood through as well, was… difficult. Harry lay back and let Lucius penetrate him. He tried to remain present and fought against the instinct to let his mind flutter away until it was over.
Eventually the repetitive movement stirred something inside him. That was Lucius’s cock. He was fucking Harry – the word pried its way into his mind, making the thump and friction of Lucius’s body inside and against his send electric shivers through his thighs and groin. Harry gripped the bedding, twisted the cotton in his fists, his knees quivering. He was getting hard. His eyes began to sting.
With a loud sigh of pleasure, Lucius began to pump harder. Harry arched his back, eyes narrowed and unseeing, and at the change in angle, he dissolved. He hated the sounds he made, but couldn't stop them tearing out of his throat. Dimly aware of Lucius’s laughter above him, Harry threw an arm over his face, only to have Lucius wrench it away again.
"Not so frigid after all." Lucius pinned Harry's wrists down on either side of his head. "Your face is flushed with lust, little Harry."
That voice. It twisted into Harry's ears, winding through his brain, and each puff of Lucius's breath against his skin, each thrust of his cock against that spot inside him, drew Harry closer and closer to the edge. "I hate you," he groaned. Lucius laughed. "I hate, I hate you, I--" Harry's toes curled, his neck arched, and he cried out, his orgasm a hot, pulsing eruption. Lucius began slamming into him, crushing the pleasure, his face red and twisted above Harry. He shouted as he came. His fingers dug into the bones of Harry's wrists. Then he collapsed, heaving and pressing Harry into the mattress.
Harry waited until Lucius had cleaned himself, dressed and was about to leave.
"Clothes." Harry ran his fingers through his damp hair. "I'm not a fucking house-elf. At least let me have some clothes."
With an eyebrow raised, Lucius turned to look at him. He broke into a smile. "Like I said, Harry. You haven't the wit. A good attempt, though."
Harry passed a horrible, sleepless night in which he convinced himself that Lucius was right. He wasn't clever enough; he didn't know how to be subtle. Lucius would always see right through him and he'd never get the upper hand.
In the morning, however, he found a set of plain black robes hanging in the armoire along with some white cotton pants, a pair of socks and some lace up boots. He laughed so hard and so long that in the end it felt the same as sobbing.
* * *
Day Thirty
Sunlight, radiant and golden, licked across Harry's cheeks and forearms. The air in the garden was fresh and sweet. He could taste it on his tongue as he inhaled. He could hear birds singing; a gentle breeze brushed against his calves as it ruffled the hem of his robes.
"Careful there," said Lucius, grabbing his shoulder to keep him from falling over.
Lucius visited Harry on a daily basis now. Apparently, an enthusiastic Harry was even more tempting than a reluctant Harry. Harry was sore and wrung out, but he was eating steak and potatoes instead of bread and cheese and had the choice of three different sets of robes. Klottle had even brought a wireless down into his room.
Once, as he was dialling through the stations, he thought he'd caught the sound of a familiar voice, but he'd been spinning the dial and wasn't able to find the channel again.
In the back of his head, he remembered that this was all a means to an end. Lucius had taken to making Harry beg during the last few days. He'd earned the right to a trip outside on his knees with his hands tied behind his back, pleading with Lucius to untie him so he could touch himself.
It didn't mean anything. Harry was only doing it so… So Lucius would…
Casually, Lucius hooked a finger through the loop at the front of Harry's collar and dragged him along a path leading into a small orchard of apple trees. The canopy of leaves blocked a lot of the sunshine. Harry scowled. Trailing his free hand over the bark of the nearest tree, Lucius stopped strolling and looked up. He grabbed a low hanging branch, then pulled at it.
"Today, Harry," he said, "I believe I shall tie your wrists to this branch and fuck you against a tree."
And with that, Harry's good mood evaporated.
He didn't want to.
He wanted to enjoy being outside for the first time in a month. He didn't want Lucius all over him ruining it. The taste of freedom intoxicated him, erasing all his plans and good intentions.
Telling Lucius no at this point would be an irreversible mistake. Harry knew it. He also knew that there was no way he could let Lucius touch him. The idea made him want to scream and rage like a child. Lucius had released his hold on Harry's collar, so he didn’t notice Harry shaking.
Lucius drew his wand. He cast a Strengthening Charm on the tree branch. Then he turned away, just for a split second, and scanned the pathway between the rows of trees. Acting with more rage than purpose, Harry punched him hard on the back of his head.
Lucius staggered forward, his wand arm shooting out towards the tree to break his fall. As his wand hand hit the bark, it fell from his fingers onto the ground.
Harry didn't think. He leapt.
His fingers closed around the smooth, hard elm wood, and a tingle that could have been shock as easily as magic shot up his arm.
He stumbled backwards, holding the wand out in front of him.
Lucius's eyes locked on it and his face went white. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet Harry's eyes. His upper lip curled and red blotches bloomed on either cheek. "Give me--
"Crucio!" screamed Harry. The word seemed to leap from his mouth of its own accord, but clearly Harry meant it, because Lucius collapsed to the ground, twitching and thrashing. For several long moments he didn't make a sound. The rustle of leaves and dirt beneath his writhing body filled Harry's ears. Magic streamed through Harry's arm and fingers. He could smell sulphur, feel the toxic burn rushing through his veins. Lucius finally let out a roar of agony. A tearing pain in his own throat told Harry that he was screaming too.
The curse began to take its toll. Once his knees began to wobble Harry lowered the wand. He gasped, sucking in each breath. With what sounded remarkably like a whimper, Lucius pushed himself up to sit.
"I told you," said Harry, tightening his grip on the wand to keep it from falling from his shaking hand. "I told you that you wouldn't keep me. I told you I'd get away."
Leaves stuck to Lucius's hair and a smear of dirt ran across his face from temple to jaw. "Yes," he said, and wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "You certainly did. Although you aren't quite free yet. Without the password to the front gate, you're still my prisoner."
"Give it to me." Harry couldn't think. His brain felt as though it had melted.
"I don't believe I will. And do with me what you like, but eventually my wife and son will find you, and you won't be able to take them both on at once, not with a borrowed wand."
"Tell me the password. I'll cast the Cruciatus again!"
"And then what? By all means, curse me again. I've no doubt you believe I have it coming. But the gates will still be locked." Keeping his eyes on Harry's, Lucius got shakily to his feet.
The sense of time running out, that Harry had to do something before Lucius regained his wits, made Harry's heart race. He forced himself to think. Images and memories of the past month flashed through his consciousness and all he wanted to do was slice Lucius up, to cut off the bits that had hurt him.
And that... That was exactly what he needed.
Apparently his smile frightened Lucius, because he went pale again and took a step back.
"Evanesco!" cried Harry.
While Harry had seen Lucius naked many times before, the outdoor setting didn't suit his nudity. He looked pale and soft against the backdrop of verdant trees. Lucius blinked rapidly, then straightened, his eyes flashing with anger. "I don't know what you have in mind, but I can assure you that--"
"Sectumsempra!" A delicate spray of red droplets bloomed across the front of Lucius's thigh, leaving behind a short gash. Harry's nostrils twitched as the ferrous aroma of blood cut through the garden's lush perfume.
Lucius looked down at the cut, then back up again, sneering, but Harry cut him off before he could speak. "Tell me the password, or I'll cut your balls off. I won't kill you. I'll cauterise the wound before you bleed out. Just it seems to me that you rather like your balls, Lucius. So. Tell me the fucking password."
For once, Lucius was speechless. Harry pointed the wand at his crotch and inhaled. Hands jerking to cover himself, Lucius whispered, "Pavo Cristatus."
"Pavo… Cristatus?"
"Yes," said Lucius through his teeth.
"It had better work."
They stared at each other in silence. A strand of loose hair fluttered against Lucius's bare shoulder.
"And what now, Harry?" Lucius finally asked. "You'll kill me? Or leave me to the Dark Lord's mercy when he discovers I've let you slip through my fingers?"
Harry broke into a grin and then hitching laughter. "As if I'd split my soul on your account. No, Lucius. You would have been happy enough to turn me over to Voldemort when you got bored."
"It won't be just me." Lucius's skin looked grey. "Imagine, Harry, what he'll do to Draco and Narcissa. Are you willing to dirty your hands with their blood as well? He'll make me watch as he tortures them."
Harry's face crumpled. He began to back away. "You… You should have thought of that. You should have thought of that before."
"Nevertheless."
Harry lifted the wand again and pointed it at Lucius. A gust of wind rustled through the trees, sending a sprinkling of pale green leaves fluttering towards the earth.
Lucius continued, taking a slow step towards Harry. "You'll be leaving them to a fate worse than death. They've done nothing to deserve it."
A hard bubble of pressure developed in the centre of Harry's chest. He met Lucius's eyes and saw the same hardness and fury they'd held as Lucius held him down on the bed and tore him open. The bubble grew, hatred and helpless frustration -- even now Lucius knew exactly what to say, how to get to him. As his arm trembled and his mind spun, something clicked in the back of his head -- a memory: Draco on the tower, his arm shaking as he pointed his wand at Dumbledore. We can hide you.
"Incarcerous."
Ropes spun from his wand and wound around Lucius's upper body, tying his arms to his sides. Lucius staggered and fell to his knees.
Harry stopped shaking. He stood very still, pointing the wand carefully at Lucius's head. "Send them to us. We'll hide them. We'll keep them safe."
Lucius opened his mouth to speak.
Harry didn't let him.
"Send them." Harry spoke slowly and carefully. "But you, Lucius…" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "You can rot in hell."
-- The End.
.
Author:
melusinahpPrompt Number: 96 submitted by
entrenous88Kink Showcased: Buying teenage sex partner -- daddy/owner kink
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Lucius/Harry
Summary: In order to outwit a Slytherin, one must first learn to think like a Slytherin.
Warnings: AU, non-con, Harry is 17
Word Count: 6,800
Author's Notes: So much love to
kennahijja, whose advice made this a much better fic, to themostepotente for betaing, and to marguerite_26, winnett, and flamewarrior for hand holding and great suggestions. Day Twelve
Rushing blood heated the skin on Harry's face. His hands coiled into fists as Lucius’s fingers curled around his cock. He pressed his forehead into the pillow, arse in the air, eyes shut tight, and let Lucius shove his legs apart with his knee. The hand that wasn’t wanking him slid between Harry’s arse cheeks, and when the first finger pressed inside, slick and warm, a moan burst free from deep within his chest. Harry’s shoulders trembled with the force of it, and Lucius froze.
Harry had tried to keep quiet; he hated showing any signs of pleasure, probably because Lucius ate up every gasp and sigh with a smirk of such patronising glee that Harry wanted to rip his eyes out of his skull with his bare fingers.
This time, however, something clicked deep in the depths of Harry’s shock-blurred mind – Lucius froze.
Lifting his face a centimetre from the pillow with Lucius’s finger now twisting inside him and thumb flicking the head of Harry’s cock, Harry tried something new. He moaned again, this time letting the sound fill the room, and pressed back against Lucius. The hand on Harry’s cock squeezed reflexively tight and Lucius gasped.
Seconds later Lucius thrust his cock inside him far too forcefully, making Harry bite into the pillow to keep from crying out, and the brief moment of triumph was gone. Harry remembered it later, though, as he soaked in the bath, his arse stinging like murder in the soapy water and the back of his neck tender against the porcelain where Lucius’s hand had held him down.
It was only a small realisation, just a crack, barely big enough to lever open, but it was something. For that one split second, Harry had owned Lucius. Closing his eyes and sinking beneath the suds until the water winnowed the world away and his pulse echoed through his head, Harry realised that a bit of swallowed pride now could lead to… Well, not freedom, but perhaps the beginnings of it. And for the time being, that was enough to make him rise to the surface and suck in a cool breath of air.
Day One
Rage kept Harry warm despite his lack of proper clothing. It burned through his pores with a toxic, stinging heat. Kneel, said the voice in his head, gliding through his mind, coy and plying. I won’t, Harry answered back. He ground the knotted knuckles of his fists together, cold, iron manacles keeping his wrists locked in front of him. His chest rose and fell, eyes open but unseeing as he fought for control.
The curse was abruptly withdrawn, tearing out of his mind like a whip-crack. Harry gasped and blinked. He could hear Borgin trying to sway the crowd: "something rather special today," "for a temporary period at the Dark Lord's consent," and "defiant, but well-worth the effort." He stayed stock-still, the wood of the platform rough beneath his braced feet. As his vision cleared, he kept his chin up and his back straight. The room was crowded; it stunk of sweat and the lingering sulphuric smoke of dark magic. The tattered dregs of Voldemort's supporters -- hags, necromancers, Snatchers and the like -- lurked at the edges and corners of the room, while the Death Eaters gathered towards the front near the platform.
The gaze of numerous eyes tickled his bare skin. Harry ignored them. Their voices blurred into an indecipherable buzz.
This was a setback. A big one. But Ron and Hermione had escaped with the Horcrux, and that was the important thing. Merlin knew what the highest bidder would have in store for him, but Harry knew he could take it. And he'd take the first opportunity to escape. This was just temporary.
Bidding started, and Harry closed his eyes. Five Galleons, ten, twenty. He bit his lip and shivered, holding back the urge to laugh. Who'd known how many Death Eaters had been dying to take him home with them?
"Twenty-five," shouted a man.
"Thirty," responded a rough, feminine voice that made Harry's eyes open wide. He scanned the crowd and found her. She stood near the front, wearing shimmering black robes, her eyes bright and hungry, her mouth curled into a predatory smile.
Not Bellatrix. Harry's skin prickled into gooseflesh. Merlin. Anyone but her. Although he did his best not to let his face change, not to show distress, her smile grew, exposing her teeth. She cocked her head to the side and soundlessly moved her lips, forming the words: Little baby Potter. Harry's saliva turned acrid -- a sense memory of the Cruciatus Curse.
Not her.
He swallowed. The room was silent. His stomach tightened into a knot of cold pain.
Then another voice, also familiar but masculine, silky and edged with cold pleasure. “Fifty Galleons.”
Harry snapped his neck to find the source, and met ice-grey eyes. The man stood out tall, pristine and elegant in the eclectic crowd. His white-blond hair, drawn back into a plait down his back, gleamed in the torchlight. He wore robes of deep red velvet and a cool smile. Lucius looked Harry up and down, his gaze slithering over Harry's bare legs and across his chest and shoulders, coming to rest on the thin, linen pants that were all that protected Harry's modesty. For the first time that evening, Harry felt naked.
He wasn’t frightened of Lucius Malfoy. He flexed his fingers and strengthened his stance, glaring down at Lucius. Looking away from Harry's crotch to catch and hold his eyes, Lucius didn't change his expression. His eyes merely crinkled at the corners.
"Curse, you, Lucius," said Bellatrix. "The boy is mine!" She turned back towards the platform. "Sixty Galleons!"
"You'll only waste him, Bella, there won't be anything left for the rest of us. No. I'm certain the Dark Lord would prefer him in my hands."
A strange, dark laughter bubbled through Harry's chest as he watched them argue.
"You know nothing of the Dark Lord's wishes. I'll teach the boy his place." She looked back at Harry, eyelids lowered, and licked her lips. "He'll be meek as a mouse by the time I'm through with him."
Lucius sighed and lifted his hand towards Borgin without looking away from Bellatrix. "One hundred Galleons! You'll present him to our Lord with his brains leaking out his ears. While I…" He looked directly at Harry again, the corner of his mouth turning up. "Will leave at least that part of him intact."
Harry blinked and parted his lips, seized tight by the greed gleaming in Lucius's eyes. Heat prickled across his cheeks along with a thick, sickening dread. Lucius raised his eyebrows, then threw back his head and laughed.
Day Fifteen
Pacing the room, Harry went over the plan in his mind.
He knew he had to play it carefully. Lucius was clever in ways that Harry couldn't emulate -- each word and gesture was geared to get under Harry's skin and twist. Both threats and false promises came wrapped in the same smooth, taunting voice.
And for Harry, all blunt fury and impatience, each and every act of submission felt like a chunk of flesh ripped from his body.
He could learn, though. He had to.
That evening when Lucius entered his chambers, Harry let his shoulders slump. He got heavily to his feet and let the dressing gown slip to the floor.
Lucius watched, his lips pressed tightly together. Harry stood still as Lucius approached him, but turned his face away when he drew near. He tried -- and it wasn't difficult -- to present a picture of misery and resignation.
Hot breath hit Harry's neck as Lucius sighed in irritation. For a moment, Harry thought he'd gone too far. There was, after all, always the chance that Lucius would lose interest entirely if Harry didn't play along, and then… And then…
No. Harry had to make sure that didn’t happen.
So, when Lucius took hold of his shoulder, he gasped and closed his eyes. Lucius chuckled and bent down to lick Harry's bare neck, wrapping an arm around the small of his back to pull their bodies together. Instead of fighting his erection, Harry ground his hardening cock against Lucius's thigh, jerking his hips forward as if he couldn't help himself.
Lucius pushed Harry backwards until he lay flat on the bed, spread out naked beneath Lucius who was still entirely clothed. As Lucius bent Harry's leg and pushed back his thigh, a tight sob escaped from Harry's throat.
"Hush…" whispered Lucius, his voice laced with amusement. He took hold of Harry's flushed and eager cock and squeezed until Harry began to pant and claw at the bedding.
"You're learning, Harry. It's so much nicer when you give in to what you really want. And you have wanted this for a very long time, haven't you?"
Harry thought of being twelve and facing Lucius down a long Hogwarts corridor, of being fourteen and tied to a gravestone while Lucius bowed before Voldemort and jeered as Harry was tortured, of being fifteen and white hot with fury as Lucius faced him bold as brass in the Ministry of Magic.
"You're mad," he gasped.
"Am I?" asked Lucius, jabbing a finger into Harry and twisting it until he let loose another sob.
"You… are!" Harry grasped his thighs behind his bent knees and pulled his legs to his chest, wanting it to be quick, wanting it to be over.
Lucius laughed as he freed his cock and settled between Harry's spread legs. Harry kept his face turned away and ground his teeth together.
"Just do it," he whispered.
"Yes?" Lucius took hold of Harry's cock again and began to stroke him slowly and firmly.
Harry bit his lip. He squeezed his eyes shut to keep them from tearing up. He struggled against the fervent desire to deny his arousal and push Lucius away; he stuffed it deep, down inside, tight into a box, and locked it. A cold shiver rushed across his skin. He arched his back.
"Yes," he whispered back to Lucius. "Please."
Day One
Lucius disappeared into the depths of the Manor as soon as they entered the drawing room, leaving Harry in the care of a red-complexioned, lumpy-nosed house-elf named Klottle. Harry immediately turned and made for the exit in the front hall, but Klottle snapped his fingers and his feet stuck fast to the floor.
"The Mufkin will follow Klottle to his chambers." Klottle's voice was deep and croaky. "Master wishes it so."
"I'm not a 'Mufkin,'" Harry muttered. "And he's not my master."
With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Klottle snapped his fingers again, allowing Harry the use of his feet. Harry followed him through a door, down a corridor, around corners, down flights of stairs, until he was sure the elf was leading him on a merry chase just to confuse him. The walls became barer and the floors changed from marble to wood and finally to rough stone. They were far from the centre of the house, which Harry supposed was good. The very last thing he wanted to do was to run into any other members of the household.
Finally, Klottle led him into a room. Harry stopped short. In his worst imaginings he'd pictured rat-infested straw on a cold dungeon floor. He hadn't expected comfort and he certainly hadn't expected this small but almost luxurious room with a canopied bed, lush carpet, and a colourful tapestry decorating the wall. In one corner stood an elegant wooden dressing table, in another an elaborately carved armoire. Torches burnished the room in amber light. He nervously fingered the leather collar they'd fastened around his neck after Lucius had paid for him. The rat-infested straw would have been less ominous.
Klottle closed the door behind them. The lock clicked into place, and then he disappeared through a door Harry assumed led to the bathroom once he heard the sound of a bath being filled. He looked around, wondering what Lucius intended to do with him. His eyes came to rest on the tapestry. At first it looked to be the usual battle scene -- various men in various stages of undress were grappling with each other, and… Harry blushed and looked away, his hands opening and closing.
Klottle came back into the bedroom. He snapped his fingers at Harry, and Harry's pants vanished in a puff of smoke, making Harry yelp and then cover himself with his hands. Being naked in front of a house-elf was strangely mortifying. "The Mufkin will bathe himself thoroughly. Then he will dress himself in the robes hanging in the armoire. Master Lucius will attend to the Mufkin at some point during the evening."
Attend to.
What exactly did that mean?
Klottle left and Harry found himself pulled towards the enticing fragrances wafting forth from the bathroom. He'd been cold and dirty for days and the steam smelt wonderfully clean. He was surprised to find that bath was larger than the entire bedroom, large enough for swimming. Thinking of the Prefect's bath at Hogwarts, Harry stepped into the gloriously hot water and sat, going limp, letting it push and pull his body. Peace, comfort and solitude lapped at his arms and legs and Harry's knotted muscles quivered hard and then relaxed.
Strange, so strange, that Lucius would allow him to refresh himself this way.
After scrubbing himself with the soapy contents of one of the glass bottles lining the bath's edge, Harry rinsed off and got out. He felt infinitely better, but this wasn't the time to let his guard down. He dried off and went back into the bedroom to get dressed.
The 'robes hanging in the armoire' turned out to be a black silk dressing gown embroidered with blue and gold birds. It had no hooks or buttons, but only a ribbon to tie around his waist and keep the garment fastened. It wasn't clothes. Harry searched every corner of the armoire but didn't find any pants or shoes. Chewing on his lower lip, he slipped the gown on and tied it, tight. Then he tested the door and scanned the room for anything that could be used as a weapon.
Nothing.
Maybe he could garrotte Lucius with the belt of his dressing gown.
After a moment he spied a tray on the table laden with bread, cheese and grapes. A crystal glass seemed, upon sniffing, to be filled with wine. Harry wolfed down the food, it was the cleanest and freshest he'd seen in a week and he was too hungry to resist it, but gave the wine a miss. Merlin only knew what it was laced with.
He was wiping the crumbs off his mouth with the back of his hand when the door swung open.
Lucius had changed into simple navy-blue robes. He closed the door behind him, his light hair stark against the dark wood. He remained still, gazing at Harry. Harry lowered his arm and stared back.
"You look fetching in that robe. I knew you would." With slow, deliberate steps Lucius began to cross the room. Scowling, Harry widened his stance. Lucius paused at the tray that had held Harry's food and lifted the wine glass. "You've had enough to eat?"
Harry narrowed his eyes, his muscles suddenly aching again.
"Didn't like the wine?" Lucius twirled the stem of the glass, letting the liquid paint the bowl, before taking a sip. "That's a shame. It's an excellent vintage and would have helped you relax." He took a longer drink, then replaced the glass on the tray.
"You won't keep me," Harry blurted out. "I'll find a way to escape."
With a smile that levered Harry's discomfort up into full-blown panic, Lucius took a step towards him. "Tell me," he said, his voice a low murmur that nevertheless carried through the entire room, "now that you've come to this." He made a sweeping gesture encompassing Harry and their surroundings. "Now that you've been brought this low… How is it that you dare to address your master in such a manner?"
"Master." Harry spat the final syllable. "You're dreaming."
"Oh no, Harry. Neither of us is dreaming." Closing the space between them, Lucius hooked his index finger through the metal loop at the front of Harry's collar and pulled, making Harry's head flop back and lifting him onto the balls of his feet. He leant down and, in a harsh whisper that tickled Harry's ear, said, "This is all very real."
Harry stood it for several long moments and then twisted away, grunting as he jerked his neck free of Lucius's hold.
His breath was coming fast, making him dizzy. He wanted to run. He wanted to attack. He wanted to make Lucius and his smirk disappear. "Don't touch me," was all he said.
"Oh, I will touch you."
Harry tried to step away, but Lucius's hand snaked out and grabbed a handful of hair at the back of his head.
"I can do anything I want to you, Harry." Lucius tightened his grip and moved his face until their noses were almost touching. "And I will. And you won't be able to do a thing to stop me."
Harry's face burned and his mind went cold when realisation hit him. A horrible, unwanted thrill shot up his spine, and he twisted, pulling away and holding the silk of his dressing gown tightly closed. “No.” His back hit one of the bedposts. “I’m not… You can’t.”
Lucius pulled his teeth over his bottom lip, running his eyes across Harry's face and clearly enjoying the distress he was causing. He grinned, the torchlight reflecting in his eyes and making them glimmer. “Whatever did you think I’d bought you for?”
With his chest tight and hot, Harry shouted. “I won’t let you.”
“Let me? I think you will.” Lucius pressed forward, chin lowered, eyes locked on Harry’s face.
Harry braced himself.
With a chuckle, Lucius leant in and for a moment Harry thought he might try to kiss him. He could feel the heat of Lucius's body and smell the remnants of the slave market on his skin. Harry looked up and met Lucius’s eyes, which held nothing but glee and hunger.
"You're sick," said Harry, his voice much thinner and higher than he wanted it to be.
"What does it matter what you want, my frightened little rabbit?" With a playful finger, Lucius drew a path down Harry's temple, across his cheek, finally pressing hard into the centre of his lower lip. "The Dark Lord will be ready for you soon, and I’m going to make the most of you while I can."
Harry sucked in a deep breath and then hit out at Lucius with everything he had. One fist connected with Lucius's jaw, the other with his shoulder. He drove his knee into Lucius's thigh. Staggering backwards, Lucius threw one arm in front of his face and pointed the other, and his wand, towards Harry.
Harry flinched, but instead of the word he'd expected, Lucius said, "Levicorpus!, and Harry was suddenly airborne and upside-down. He kicked and thrashed, catching glimpses of Lucius's red and furious face. Lucius flicked his wand and Harry floated over the bed. A second later, he crashed down onto it, his dressing gown coming open and leaving him exposed.
Before Harry could catch his breath, Lucius was on top of him, his fingers closing around Harry’s throat, pressing the collar into his skin until Harry’s pulse leapt frantically. Blood thundered through his temples.
"If you insist," Lucius enunciated, "on making this difficult for me, then it will be that much harder on you." He tightened his grip further and fuzzy grey stars bloomed across Harry's vision. "Now," Lucius leaned down, his plait falling over his shoulder to lie across Harry's cheek, and spoke directly into his ear, his voice rough and breathless, "I am going to fuck you. And you will submit to me. Because, Harry, like it or not, you are mine."
As Lucius finally released his throat, allowing Harry to gasp for air, the words, fuck you, flashed through Harry's head. Warmth seared across his skin, his groin stirred, and his mouth flooded with tart hysteria. It was going to hurt and it was sex and Harry didn't want it to be Lucius Malfoy.
“No. No! Get off me.” He twisted, hitting at Lucius’s hips with his knee, trying to get his foot beneath Lucius’s body so he could kick him off. His breath came in wet gasps. Hissing, Lucius drew back, his wand arm raised.
"Do I need to tie you up? If it will be easier on you to feel helpless, then I'm more than happy to oblige."
Harry stared up at the face looming above him. Lucius's blown pupils, flushed cheeks and avaricious mouth. His clear enjoyment of what he was doing to Harry, despite or because of Harry's willingness to fight, sent Harry suddenly numb.
"No," Harry said. "Don't tie me up." He wouldn't allow Lucius to make him any more helpless than he already was.
"If you attack me again, I'll bind your wrists to your ankles, and I can assure you that you'll regret it."
Harry didn't respond. He lay still on the bed as Lucius began to remove his own clothing, long fingers dancing over his robes's fastenings. Black silk pants slid off Lucius's hips, revealing his cock, which was hard, flushed and in Harry's eyes impossibly long. Once again, a sickening tremor passed through his groin.
Grey spots swam again across his vision as Lucius kneed his legs apart and knelt between them. Harry was meant to be miles away, searching for Ravenclaw's diadem with Ron and Hermione. He could have been curled in his bed at Hogwarts, in front of the fireplace at the Burrow, locked up tight in the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley's… Anywhere but here.
Lucius's fingers curled around Harry's flaccid cock and Harry's body jerked. His hand automatically flew up to pull Lucius off, but Lucius only gripped him tighter. "It doesn't have to be all bad, you know," he whispered.
An ache of pleasure quivered to life beneath Lucius's hand, and Harry dug in his fingernails and choked out, "Stop."
"Very well then," Lucius responded with what sounded like genuine disappointment.
When Lucius hauled Harry's legs up until his knees were bent over Lucius shoulders, he thought he'd die of humiliation. Droplets of perspiration glistened on Lucius's brow; his breathing became ragged. Harry tried not to squirm or cry out as Lucius penetrated him with his fingers, probing and stretching him, smearing him with the sweet-smelling unguent he'd taken from his pocket.
Harry let his mind float away. He wouldn't think of his friends, wouldn't think of happier times or places -- he didn’t want those things anywhere near what would become his memory of that night. He tried to make himself go blank and empty.
But then Lucius withdrew his fingers and resettled himself. Harry realised what was about to happen and shuddered with the sharp, cold effervescence of adrenaline. Lucius pressed forward, pushing his cock into him, and Harry swallowed a cry. It hurt. Much more than he’d expected it to. He could take the pain, but it stabbed through the walls in his mind, letting the humiliation seep through; he couldn’t defend himself against both at once. He sucked in a breath, trying to regain control of himself.
Lucius chuckled and then thrust forward again, hissing, "Yes..." Harry cried out, quickly clamping his jaw shut to keep it in. This would damage him permanently; he was sure of it. The pain was searing. The muscles of his stomach and thighs cramped and seized. Lucius was far too big to be inside him that way. He closed his eyes and turned his face away, but Lucius gripped his chin and wrenched his head forward.
“Look at me. I want to see your eyes.”
Harry squeezed his eyes closed even tighter, grasping hold of that one small rebellion. He heard Lucius exhale sharply and the grip on his jaw constricted.
"You will learn," Lucius pulled back slowly -- Harry held his breath -- and then slammed back hard into Harry, making him wail. Lucius paused, panting, and then gave a dark chuckle. "You will learn that there is very little to be gained in disobeying me."
Lucius fell into a fast rhythm, snapping his hips forward, thrusting into Harry with enough force to make the bed shake. Harry’s head bumped against the headboard. His fingers and toes curled tight, every muscle tensed, every fibre of his being willing Lucius off him and away. He focussed on keeping silent, on holding back the sounds trying to escape his aching throat. But the assault went on and on until there was nothing left but the grinding agony of Lucius's heaving body. Harry's mind went red.
When Lucius finally shouted and shuddered above him, Harry tasted blood and realised that he'd bitten into his lower lip. He heard the buzz of Lucius's voice but couldn't focus on the words. Harry's eyes were open now. The world seemed fuzzy and far away.
Lucius slithered out of Harry's body and moved away. He was still talking. Harry rolled onto his side and hugged his knees to his chest. He shivered, staring blindly forward.
The door opened. A tray was placed on the bedside table.
"See that he takes his potions and washes again," said Lucius, "and change the sheets."
Eventually Harry smelled flowery soap and the noise in his ears became the sound of rushing water. He thought to get up and scrub himself clean, but he was shaking too hard to move.
Day Twenty
As he swallowed a mouthful of thick, fruity wine, a sudden slice of nausea cut through Harry's belly -- he was getting used to this way of life. It hadn't taken long.
He was never allowed to leave his rooms. Harry knew that an hour or so after he awoke, Klottle would bring him breakfast. Then he'd go for a swim, dry off, pace around the room one hundred and sixteen times and lunch would arrive. After picking at the food on the tray, he'd thumb through one of the dusty books he'd found in the drawer of the bedside table or try and remember a spell beginning with each letter of the alphabet. He often imagined using them one by one against Lucius until there was nothing left but a quivering pile of stinking, shredded innards. After that he'd take a nap.
Evenings were less predictable. Sometimes they'd be uneventful, and Harry spent them pacing, trying unsuccessfully to dismantle the furniture, and wondering if it was possible to tell if you'd gone mad or if it happened without you noticing. Sometimes Lucius would visit.
On this occasion Harry had decided to move his plan along one crucial but very risky step. As soon as Lucius swept into the room, his hair hanging loose down his back,
Harry moved to the bed and flopped face down on the bedcovers. He lay there, prone and waiting.
Lucius's footsteps stopped and then began again until Harry felt his presence looming behind him. The skin on his back prickled and his cock stirred against the cotton. It's part of the plan, Harry told himself, and dug his fingernails into the bedding. He remained still as Lucius ran fingers up his thighs. He allowed Lucius to roll him over. When Lucius began stroking Harry's cock, Harry closed his eyes and thought of nothing.
"What do you think you're doing?" asked Lucius in a voice just sharp enough to make Harry's muscles tighten.
"Huh? I'm… You know. Why don't you just get on with it."
"Don't play games with me, Harry. You haven't the wit."
"I'm tired, all right? I haven't seen sunlight for weeks, nor had any fresh air. I've been stuck in this room. I don't even have any proper clothes! And you--" He propped himself up on his elbows, sucked in a deep breath, and yelled, "I'm not in the bloody mood."
His shoulders shaking with silent laugher, Lucius rested his hands on either side of Harry's waist. Harry stared into his face, at the cratered grey of his irises. There was no overt sign of corruption, nothing to tell Harry why he was doing this to him -- only cold amusement. "Not in the mood? What a shame. We'll have to see what we can do about that."
This time, Harry was going to have to let Lucius win the challenge.
Allowing the walls in his mind to crack enough for him to feel, without letting all the rage and horror flood through as well, was… difficult. Harry lay back and let Lucius penetrate him. He tried to remain present and fought against the instinct to let his mind flutter away until it was over.
Eventually the repetitive movement stirred something inside him. That was Lucius’s cock. He was fucking Harry – the word pried its way into his mind, making the thump and friction of Lucius’s body inside and against his send electric shivers through his thighs and groin. Harry gripped the bedding, twisted the cotton in his fists, his knees quivering. He was getting hard. His eyes began to sting.
With a loud sigh of pleasure, Lucius began to pump harder. Harry arched his back, eyes narrowed and unseeing, and at the change in angle, he dissolved. He hated the sounds he made, but couldn't stop them tearing out of his throat. Dimly aware of Lucius’s laughter above him, Harry threw an arm over his face, only to have Lucius wrench it away again.
"Not so frigid after all." Lucius pinned Harry's wrists down on either side of his head. "Your face is flushed with lust, little Harry."
That voice. It twisted into Harry's ears, winding through his brain, and each puff of Lucius's breath against his skin, each thrust of his cock against that spot inside him, drew Harry closer and closer to the edge. "I hate you," he groaned. Lucius laughed. "I hate, I hate you, I--" Harry's toes curled, his neck arched, and he cried out, his orgasm a hot, pulsing eruption. Lucius began slamming into him, crushing the pleasure, his face red and twisted above Harry. He shouted as he came. His fingers dug into the bones of Harry's wrists. Then he collapsed, heaving and pressing Harry into the mattress.
Harry waited until Lucius had cleaned himself, dressed and was about to leave.
"Clothes." Harry ran his fingers through his damp hair. "I'm not a fucking house-elf. At least let me have some clothes."
With an eyebrow raised, Lucius turned to look at him. He broke into a smile. "Like I said, Harry. You haven't the wit. A good attempt, though."
Harry passed a horrible, sleepless night in which he convinced himself that Lucius was right. He wasn't clever enough; he didn't know how to be subtle. Lucius would always see right through him and he'd never get the upper hand.
In the morning, however, he found a set of plain black robes hanging in the armoire along with some white cotton pants, a pair of socks and some lace up boots. He laughed so hard and so long that in the end it felt the same as sobbing.
Day Thirty
Sunlight, radiant and golden, licked across Harry's cheeks and forearms. The air in the garden was fresh and sweet. He could taste it on his tongue as he inhaled. He could hear birds singing; a gentle breeze brushed against his calves as it ruffled the hem of his robes.
"Careful there," said Lucius, grabbing his shoulder to keep him from falling over.
Lucius visited Harry on a daily basis now. Apparently, an enthusiastic Harry was even more tempting than a reluctant Harry. Harry was sore and wrung out, but he was eating steak and potatoes instead of bread and cheese and had the choice of three different sets of robes. Klottle had even brought a wireless down into his room.
Once, as he was dialling through the stations, he thought he'd caught the sound of a familiar voice, but he'd been spinning the dial and wasn't able to find the channel again.
In the back of his head, he remembered that this was all a means to an end. Lucius had taken to making Harry beg during the last few days. He'd earned the right to a trip outside on his knees with his hands tied behind his back, pleading with Lucius to untie him so he could touch himself.
It didn't mean anything. Harry was only doing it so… So Lucius would…
Casually, Lucius hooked a finger through the loop at the front of Harry's collar and dragged him along a path leading into a small orchard of apple trees. The canopy of leaves blocked a lot of the sunshine. Harry scowled. Trailing his free hand over the bark of the nearest tree, Lucius stopped strolling and looked up. He grabbed a low hanging branch, then pulled at it.
"Today, Harry," he said, "I believe I shall tie your wrists to this branch and fuck you against a tree."
And with that, Harry's good mood evaporated.
He didn't want to.
He wanted to enjoy being outside for the first time in a month. He didn't want Lucius all over him ruining it. The taste of freedom intoxicated him, erasing all his plans and good intentions.
Telling Lucius no at this point would be an irreversible mistake. Harry knew it. He also knew that there was no way he could let Lucius touch him. The idea made him want to scream and rage like a child. Lucius had released his hold on Harry's collar, so he didn’t notice Harry shaking.
Lucius drew his wand. He cast a Strengthening Charm on the tree branch. Then he turned away, just for a split second, and scanned the pathway between the rows of trees. Acting with more rage than purpose, Harry punched him hard on the back of his head.
Lucius staggered forward, his wand arm shooting out towards the tree to break his fall. As his wand hand hit the bark, it fell from his fingers onto the ground.
Harry didn't think. He leapt.
His fingers closed around the smooth, hard elm wood, and a tingle that could have been shock as easily as magic shot up his arm.
He stumbled backwards, holding the wand out in front of him.
Lucius's eyes locked on it and his face went white. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet Harry's eyes. His upper lip curled and red blotches bloomed on either cheek. "Give me--
"Crucio!" screamed Harry. The word seemed to leap from his mouth of its own accord, but clearly Harry meant it, because Lucius collapsed to the ground, twitching and thrashing. For several long moments he didn't make a sound. The rustle of leaves and dirt beneath his writhing body filled Harry's ears. Magic streamed through Harry's arm and fingers. He could smell sulphur, feel the toxic burn rushing through his veins. Lucius finally let out a roar of agony. A tearing pain in his own throat told Harry that he was screaming too.
The curse began to take its toll. Once his knees began to wobble Harry lowered the wand. He gasped, sucking in each breath. With what sounded remarkably like a whimper, Lucius pushed himself up to sit.
"I told you," said Harry, tightening his grip on the wand to keep it from falling from his shaking hand. "I told you that you wouldn't keep me. I told you I'd get away."
Leaves stuck to Lucius's hair and a smear of dirt ran across his face from temple to jaw. "Yes," he said, and wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "You certainly did. Although you aren't quite free yet. Without the password to the front gate, you're still my prisoner."
"Give it to me." Harry couldn't think. His brain felt as though it had melted.
"I don't believe I will. And do with me what you like, but eventually my wife and son will find you, and you won't be able to take them both on at once, not with a borrowed wand."
"Tell me the password. I'll cast the Cruciatus again!"
"And then what? By all means, curse me again. I've no doubt you believe I have it coming. But the gates will still be locked." Keeping his eyes on Harry's, Lucius got shakily to his feet.
The sense of time running out, that Harry had to do something before Lucius regained his wits, made Harry's heart race. He forced himself to think. Images and memories of the past month flashed through his consciousness and all he wanted to do was slice Lucius up, to cut off the bits that had hurt him.
And that... That was exactly what he needed.
Apparently his smile frightened Lucius, because he went pale again and took a step back.
"Evanesco!" cried Harry.
While Harry had seen Lucius naked many times before, the outdoor setting didn't suit his nudity. He looked pale and soft against the backdrop of verdant trees. Lucius blinked rapidly, then straightened, his eyes flashing with anger. "I don't know what you have in mind, but I can assure you that--"
"Sectumsempra!" A delicate spray of red droplets bloomed across the front of Lucius's thigh, leaving behind a short gash. Harry's nostrils twitched as the ferrous aroma of blood cut through the garden's lush perfume.
Lucius looked down at the cut, then back up again, sneering, but Harry cut him off before he could speak. "Tell me the password, or I'll cut your balls off. I won't kill you. I'll cauterise the wound before you bleed out. Just it seems to me that you rather like your balls, Lucius. So. Tell me the fucking password."
For once, Lucius was speechless. Harry pointed the wand at his crotch and inhaled. Hands jerking to cover himself, Lucius whispered, "Pavo Cristatus."
"Pavo… Cristatus?"
"Yes," said Lucius through his teeth.
"It had better work."
They stared at each other in silence. A strand of loose hair fluttered against Lucius's bare shoulder.
"And what now, Harry?" Lucius finally asked. "You'll kill me? Or leave me to the Dark Lord's mercy when he discovers I've let you slip through my fingers?"
Harry broke into a grin and then hitching laughter. "As if I'd split my soul on your account. No, Lucius. You would have been happy enough to turn me over to Voldemort when you got bored."
"It won't be just me." Lucius's skin looked grey. "Imagine, Harry, what he'll do to Draco and Narcissa. Are you willing to dirty your hands with their blood as well? He'll make me watch as he tortures them."
Harry's face crumpled. He began to back away. "You… You should have thought of that. You should have thought of that before."
"Nevertheless."
Harry lifted the wand again and pointed it at Lucius. A gust of wind rustled through the trees, sending a sprinkling of pale green leaves fluttering towards the earth.
Lucius continued, taking a slow step towards Harry. "You'll be leaving them to a fate worse than death. They've done nothing to deserve it."
A hard bubble of pressure developed in the centre of Harry's chest. He met Lucius's eyes and saw the same hardness and fury they'd held as Lucius held him down on the bed and tore him open. The bubble grew, hatred and helpless frustration -- even now Lucius knew exactly what to say, how to get to him. As his arm trembled and his mind spun, something clicked in the back of his head -- a memory: Draco on the tower, his arm shaking as he pointed his wand at Dumbledore. We can hide you.
"Incarcerous."
Ropes spun from his wand and wound around Lucius's upper body, tying his arms to his sides. Lucius staggered and fell to his knees.
Harry stopped shaking. He stood very still, pointing the wand carefully at Lucius's head. "Send them to us. We'll hide them. We'll keep them safe."
Lucius opened his mouth to speak.
Harry didn't let him.
"Send them." Harry spoke slowly and carefully. "But you, Lucius…" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "You can rot in hell."
-- The End.
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Date: 2010-02-01 02:08 pm (UTC)You did a wonderful job with this.
I love Slytherin!Harry. I love this Harry. He's cunning and smart and STRONG. This is the one who will defeat Voldemort and a month at the tender mercies of Lucius Bloody Malfoy is not going to stop him.
Your Lucius is excellent. He's morally corrupt. He believes himself so superior. When he wants something, he takes it because he feels by right it should be his.
LOL I even love your title! Had to look up the meaning, but...
"Send them." Harry spoke slowly and carefully. "But you, Lucius..." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "You can rot in hell."
*flails and loves*
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Date: 2010-02-01 02:12 pm (UTC)This comment makes me really happy because you mentioned so many things I was hoping I'd achieved but wasn't sure I had. I love reading Lucius as a character, but writing him can be a bit intimidating. Thank you so much, I'm so happy you enjoyed it. ♥ ♥
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Date: 2010-02-01 02:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 02:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 02:46 pm (UTC)And wow, you did it so well here. The non-linear time line was brilliant because it gave us hope from the beginning of Harry's strength, then lead us through the horrific rape he endures and his determination - that is so very canon - to lead him through this.
The ending. That last scene? I know I capslocked you half to death last night about my love of it... but srsly? I LOVE YOU!
Send them." Harry spoke slowly and carefully. "But you, Lucius…" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "You can rot in hell."
???? BRILLIANT
And showing Harry not willing to split his soul for Lucius???? *flails* and then offering to shelter Draco and Narcissa without letting Lucius use that to foil his escape? Just the perfect twist. *flails again*
Very well done. Complex and erotic and layered and empowering, a fabulous showcase of non-con.
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Date: 2010-02-01 03:16 pm (UTC)You always leave the best comments. And, yay! I'm just dancing around because I'm so pleased that you liked their dynamic. You know how much I love Lucius/Harry, but I agree that it's very hard to get right. The fact that you think I pulled it off makes me really happy.
You gave me so much good advice, lovely. ♥ ♥
And you know how hard I struggled with the ending, so yeah, I'm even happier that you think it works.
♥ ♥ ♥
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Date: 2010-02-01 03:38 pm (UTC)Eeeeeeee! Yay!
You know, I'm not an automatic fan of switching in the timeframe as a device. But this is a great example of how good it can be when the narrative really calls for it, and the story gains so much from it. You made it work for you, and it suits Harry's developing and sometimes retreating sense of the situation and himself really well.
"The Mufkin will follow Klottle to his chambers." Klottle's voice was deep and croaky. "Master wishes it so."
MUFKIN! I don't know if that's an actual word, or you made it up, but that there's a name/category for what Harry is -- *jumps around*
At first it looked to be the usual battle scene -- various men in various stages of undress were grappling with each other, and… Harry blushed and looked away, his hands opening and closing.
Oh my god! Win, Lucius! This is pure Roman decadence!
After a moment he spied a tray on the table laden with bread, cheese and grapes. A crystal glass seemed, upon sniffing, to be filled with wine.
I am loving all the traditional signs and trappings and accoutrements of seduction scenes! And then the collar, how much that betrays what's actually going on and reminds Harry the dangerous and tenuous position he's in!
"What does it matter what you want, my frightened little rabbit?" With a playful finger, Lucius drew a path down Harry's temple, across his cheek, finally pressing hard into the centre of his lower lip.
*flails around* Gah, gah, seduction and yet total fuckery.
He could have been curled in his bed at Hogwarts, in front of the fireplace at the Burrow, locked up tight in the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley's
Oh! My heart broke a little that even the last one would look like a haven to Harry right now.
He could take the pain, but it stabbed through the walls in his mind, letting the humiliation seep through; he couldn’t defend himself against both at once.
Oh man, this is so right on. And I have to say, I admire so much how you kept the issue of Harry's utter lack and withholding of consent, even during moments when he's turned on or pretending/actually asking/begging, always always at the forefront -- very difficult balance to strike, and you totally nailed it.
"Not so frigid after all." Lucius pinned Harry's wrists down on either side of his head. "Your face is flushed with lust, little Harry."
Oh my god. *re-reads section over and over*
The CLOTHES! Harry gaining that, despite Lucius telling him he can't play the game, even if Lucius is fucking with him to fool him into thinking he's given in -- win, Harry, win! And oh god, Day 30, when he gets outside! It made me tear up.
Harry didn't think. He leapt.
His fingers closed around the smooth, hard elm wood, and a tingle that could have been shock as easily as magic shot up his arm.
OH MY GOD, GO HARRY! And it's perfectly GRYFFINDORish, that even after careful planning and calculated moves (which obviously helped everything, we can't forget) that ultimately he triumphs because of a spontaneous act of reckless bravery.
And he's so fucking strong, that's our Harry! He completely feels Lucius's jabs, the emotional blackmail, how much he doesn't want to resort to dark magic even as it feels frighteningly satisfying to see Lucius suffer, how much he doesn't want people punished even if they're people who could care less about him.
Then! The ending! "Send them to us." Because Harry will protect them despite not liking them, but more than that! More than that -- it's been a month, and he's been fucked with, in the head, and literally, and he's completely cut off from everything, but he still. completely. trusts. that there's an US, that he has people to go to, that he has a cause that's ongoing, and that even in his most degraded and helpless situation, he can offer sanctuary to people! Amazing, amazing, and so perfectly Harry -- perfect.
I loved this story so, so much. Could you tell? *laughs*
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Date: 2010-02-01 04:17 pm (UTC)Oh, I'm so happy right now. Thank you so much for this amazing comment, lovely. It's just made my entire week. :D I mean, I enjoyed writing the fic, but knowing that you liked it and got it makes the time spent that much more worthwhile. I'm just grinning all over the place. *loves*
And thank you for such an awesome prompt. I'll admit that adding the dub-con aspect was very difficult for me -- figuring out how to make it real and believable and keeping Harry in character. So, I'm especially happy that you think it worked.
♥ ♥ ♥
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Date: 2010-02-01 03:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 04:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 04:32 pm (UTC)I really liked this -I don't normally open non-cons but in the spirit of the fest I am trying to read everything, and this was an amazing read. Lucius was the perfect amount of chilling.
Brilliant!
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Date: 2010-02-01 05:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 05:23 pm (UTC)He laughed so hard and so long that in the end it felt the same as sobbing.
Poor, poor Harry. I want to hold him. But I'm glad he got away. Great fic.
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Date: 2010-02-01 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 05:46 pm (UTC)I loved Harry in this. How he was trying to be sneaky to get his way and then thought it didn't work, but lo and behold, he was able to manipulate Lucius. And eventually, that was what freed him.
This was definitely hot (non-con is my kink, oh yes, it is) and I loved your ruthlessly beautiful Lucius.
Harry's uncertainty at the end was just so perfect. That's absolutely how I see him--he'd do anything to survive except at the expense of others. And saving Narcissa and Draco... a beautiful ending to a perfect story. Thank you.
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Date: 2010-02-01 05:52 pm (UTC)♥
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Date: 2010-02-01 06:02 pm (UTC)"... you cuntface."
YOU KNOW IT MAKES SENSE!!!! ;P
Um, but yes... this was pretty fucking awesome, babe. :D See... THIS is the Lucius I adore... or, at least... the role he plays in this; the smooth, sleek, polished, perfected ARSEHOLE. *shivers* And HARRY!!! GUH!!! Perfect. So completely IC, so utterly a Gryffindor. I want to fuck him myself, now. >:)
And the ending is so fucking satisfying. It's almost orgasmic!!! >:)
So yes. Fucking amazingly well done. :D
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Date: 2010-02-01 06:23 pm (UTC)I considered making 'cuntface' the title, but then I decided it would make you too happy. :P
and Yay! I'm so happy you liked it. I love when you comment on my fics. ♥ :D Ah, why is Harry so hot when he's being horribly tortured? And I'm so glad you enjoyed Lucius.
*hugs* XXX
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Date: 2010-02-01 06:59 pm (UTC)Bwahahahhahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!
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Date: 2010-02-01 07:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2010-02-01 07:21 pm (UTC)But sometimes an author manages to convince me. And then I realise that there is something about pairings with dark non/dub-con themes like Snape/Harry or Lucius/Harry that fascinates me and that I can't resist.
And somehow you managed to hit every one of these hidden feelings and I just love this fic so much.
I've been drawn into this story after the first few sentences. I love how the scenes weren't in chronological order. Day one was painful to read, but even more painful was when Harry realised how easily he got used to the routine he was forced into. For a moment I wasn't sure if he had given up hope.
But then Harry was so Harry!! I'm practically speechless at how you managed to write canon!Harry so perfectly in a scenario like that.
The ending is pure brilliance. There are no words to describe how perfect it is.
Ah. I'm going to re-read this. A lot.
♥
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Date: 2010-02-01 09:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 07:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 09:18 pm (UTC)And thank you. :D I'm really happy you enjoyed it. xxx
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Date: 2010-02-01 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 09:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 09:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 09:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 09:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2010-02-01 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 10:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-01 11:44 pm (UTC)Oh, Mel, this was awesome. <3 Lucius was exactly how I like him, perfect. But even more perfect was Harry. Which I expected, knowing who wrote him. ;) But still. So much love. He felt totally canon to me. Especially at the end, because yes, Harry would never let Narcissa and Draco pay for what Lucius did to him. And no, he wouldn't want to save Lucius. It's also very IC for Lucius, if he manipulated Harry regarding Narcissa and Draco, because we know Lucius may be a cold bastard but he does care for his family.
And the smut, it so hit my L/H non-con kink. I think I was holding my breath during certain scenes. Poor Harry, but he suffers so prettily. ;)
I'm so happy you wrote this. It's a shame this kind of stories have become rare after DH.
Oh, also! I loved how I could see your love for Bellatrix/Harry through Bellatrix's little cameo. ;)
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Date: 2010-02-02 08:49 am (UTC)Yay! I'm so happy you liked it. :D I wonder what Lucius will tell Narcissa and Draco when he sends the the Order, and I wonder how Harry will react to them when they arrive. But I'm really pleased you liked how I wrote them both, especially Lucius, as I find him much harder.
And I totally agree. I miss L/H darkfic a lot. (So I had to write my own.)
♥ ♥
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Date: 2010-02-01 11:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-02 08:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-02 12:01 am (UTC)I'm not the easiest of Lucius/Harry shippers to please, and considering the way we both feel about Lucius lately, I'm amazed we're meeting at the crossroads here.
As I told you before, I love the setting. It sucked me right in. And I love that Lucius gets into a bidding war with Bellatrix. I really don't want to meet her in a dark alley after the auction :P
No dirty dungeons. No weird fucking torture devices. And no effin' St Andrews' cross. These seem to find their way into every. single. fucking. Lucius/Harry fic, and I just can't be bothered with those aspects anymore. Completely boring. Can a non-con fic be tasteful and elegant? Yes, it can. And there is nary a doubt in my mind that Lucius wouldn't have things any other way. Awesome Lucius characterisation is awesome. *nodnodnod*
He laughed so hard and so long that in the end it felt the same as sobbing.
That is still my favourite line.
And since Maggie is stalking this thread, I think you two conferred on the bare feet/vulnerabilty issue, because that's so hot, it isn't even funny ♥
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Date: 2010-02-02 12:32 am (UTC)No dirty dungeons. No weird fucking torture devices. And no effin' St Andrews' cross. These seem to find their way into every. single. fucking. Lucius/Harry fic, and I just can't be bothered with those aspects anymore. Completely boring. Can a non-con fic be tasteful and elegant?
Totally agree on this. It's become trite. Kind of why I dumped that pairing a while back. Was this tasteful, though? Lol, that's a strange word to use in conjunction with the plot, but I think I get what you're saying.
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Date: 2010-02-02 12:28 am (UTC)"The Mufkin will bathe himself thoroughly.
Heh, I couldn't read this without hearing in my head, "It puts the lotion on its skin."
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Date: 2010-02-02 02:47 am (UTC)It puts the lotion on its skin.
Yes! THIS.
That Harry was put into a place so inherently evil that even the friggin HOUSE ELF would attempt to depersonalize him...*shudders*
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-02 01:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-02 08:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-02 06:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-02 08:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-02 09:49 am (UTC)Need to review properly later, but was totally thrilled with this. Fast paced and to the point. None of that wishy washy pseudo artistic approach you know I dislike so much (!) ... Hot!!!!
<3
ilu!
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Date: 2010-02-02 09:54 pm (UTC)"None of that wishy washy pseudo artistic approach you know I dislike so much" -- lmao!
♥ ♥ ♥ ilu 2
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Date: 2010-02-02 01:34 pm (UTC)Anyway. This was lovely, and I'm going to go read it again now. *ahem*
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Date: 2010-02-02 09:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-02 01:46 pm (UTC)And after that irrelevant and wordy paragraph about my personal experience, the actual review:
HARRY! I'm tempted to just leave that word here as a review, because it accurately summarises why I liked this. You've teleported HARRY (and when I use all caps, I mean, canon!Harry, real!Harry, the one I love like burning) from the books and dropped him into a terrible situation, had Lucius attack his mind and body in a way that made your readers feel it, but he still remained HARRY, my beautiful, strong HARRY. I love how his Slytherin plans fuelled his hope and kept his sanity and how his Gryffindor action freed him. I love how you've showed us the horror of non-con, the humiliation and pain that comes with having your body react and submit to something you find abhorrent. And how after awhile that line threatens to blur, but it never did for Harry, even when it looked like it might, because his spirit is made of sheer will and determination and that always DID save him in canon. Seizing control over his mind has always proved impossible. And I love how Harry recognises and feels Lucius's manipulations and emotional blackmails, even when he succumbs to them, he sees what Lucius is doing. I adore that so much because Harry was always insightful when it came to recognising deceptions and motivations behind them, he always knew how evil minds work better than how the good ones do. He doesn't know himself very well because of that.
AND THEN! Day thirty! The perfection of day thirty is crazy, I can't even articulate it. It made me cry and then it made me hold my breath and then it left me all hot and bothered. The way Harry got the password from Lucius was brilliant and so clever.
And:
As if I'd split my soul on your account. No, Lucius.
Oh, Harry. Now that's the ultimate show of strength.
And then:
"Send them." Harry spoke slowly and carefully. "But you, Lucius…" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "You can rot in hell."
*literarygasam* Even after everything Lucius did to him and after he recognises Lucius's attempt to manipulate him and despite all that hatred, he doesn't let it prevent him from doing what he thinks is right. It's beautiful that you're not consoling us with revenge but with justice, because Harry was never motivated by revenge but with justice.
Oh! And I must mention how wonderful Lucius was. And when I say wonderful, I mean it was wonderfully satisfying to despise him.
Also, though, I can't say parts of it weren't hot (despite my non-con squick that usually affects me like a cold shower, it's still Harry!sex, and Harry!sex can't not affect me), the true sizzling arousal (for me) came from Harry's buried rage that had the effect of UST, in the sense I felt it during every sexual encounter and waited for it to explode and it did when he punched Lucius. That, plus Harry's decision not to kill Lucius and plus the end = triple orgasm. >.> I'd let you do me anytime, Mel. :D
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Date: 2010-02-02 03:36 pm (UTC)wot? I'm totally still stalking this. :P
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