Current mood:	tired
Entry tags:	fic, harry, lucius, lucius/harry

FIC: Reunion [Lucius/Harry, R]
Title: Reunion
Author: luciusmistress
Pairing: Lucius/Harry
Rating: R
Summary: Harry goes back to his master. Sequel of sorts to The Malfoy Sense of Humour.
Warnings: Crack. Mild violence and references to slavery. EWE
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. JKR does. So do Warner Bros., Bloomsbury Books and many other big companies. I make absolutely no money out of this. In fact, I help them make their millions (by buying the books and DVDs). No one said life was fair.
Word Count: ~900
Notes: Dedicated to kennahijja as a late birthday gift. I hope you had a wonderful day! There's lots of nasty non-con somewhere along this storyline, but all I seem to be able to actually write are these silly pieces... I'll get to what happened before these at some point, I promise. It's just so much fun to mess with the timeline :) Oh, and thanks to Supersonic Bitch (ETA: now also ms_anthrophy :) ) for looking this over!



Reunion

The door to the Malfoy Manor opened just as Harry was about to knock. Instead of the house-elf Harry was half expecting, the lord of the Manor himself stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe and wearing an amused smirk.

“So you just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“Nice to see you too, Lucius.”

Harry had imagined what it would be like to see this man again. Fantasised about it. But still he was unprepared for the surge of fear and sheer need that the sight of Lucius awoke in him.

“Thank you for testifying on my behalf. It was very… Gryffindor of you.”

“Would a Slytherin have had the only person capable of making them hard locked up in Azkaban for life?”

Lucius’ eyebrow rose at that. “Really? I’m flattered.”

“No, you’re not. You knew you were messing me up too bad ever to have a normal relationship. You kept telling me so, you…”

“Can’t decide what name to call me? I would have thought I gave you quite a vocabulary to choose from.”

“’Filthy half-blood’ doesn’t exactly describe you. Or ‘insolent little whore’, or…”

“How about ‘vile, heartless, arrogant bastard’?”

“I think I prefer ‘sick, deranged pervert’.”

Lucius chuckled. “Ah, fond memories. Do come in.” He smiled at the flash of terror Harry was unable to keep from his eyes. “It is hardly polite to leave a guest standing on the doorstep. Especially an old… friend.”

“Only you could call it friendship. I still hate your guts.”

“I assure you the feeling is quite mutual. But you still kept me out of Azkaban, even though you have enough evidence on you skin alone to condemn me.”

“Yeah, if cuts are not Healed within 24 hours, they leave scars for life. We established that alright. But I had a promise to keep to you: I’ll always be there to save the day.”

Lucius threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, Harry! You’re a delight! I should have taken you right there, right then.”

“Lucius, I was twelve.”

“Wasn’t it you who just called me a sick, deranged pervert?” Still smiling, Lucius urged Harry to climb the stairs at the back of the entrance hall. As he did so, he was acutely aware of Lucius walking behind him. He felt like a mouse walking straight into a cat’s mouth. It made him painfully hard.

As he stepped into Lucius’ study, he turned back to look at the man. He had learned the hard way that it was never smart to turn your back to Lucius for longer than was necessary. The man closed the door behind him and took a step forward, reaching for his wand. Harry instinctively took a step back, which seemed to amuse Lucius no end.

“I was only going to get myself a drink. Would you like one, too? I promise it’s not poisoned or jinxed.”

Harry accepted the glass that had appeared in front of him and raised it in a mock toast. “So you’ve secretly wanted me since I was twelve?”

“Wanted to punish you, more like. You were absolutely infuriating.”

“With you, is there really a difference?”

Lucius observed his perfect fingernails in a pointedly false show of humbleness. “Well, I have always taken pride in my inventiveness, when it comes to punishments. “

“I remember, believe me. It’ll give me nightmares for the rest of my life, unless…” He hesitated. Maybe this was, as both Ron and Hermione had pointed out, insane.

“Unless what?” There was suddenly something predatory in Lucius’ expression. Yes, this was insane. Insane was a good thing.

“Unless you’ll take me back.”

Lucius put his glass down and stepped closer. He gripped Harry’s chin and gazed intensely into his eyes. “Do not say that unless you are very sure it’s what you really mean. I will not free you a second time.”

Harry looked straight back and held his gaze steady. “Lucius, will you please take me back? I can’t feel anything else anymore. I just want to come home.”

“On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“That you promise you’ll never stop fighting me.” The two smirks were so identical that it was almost like looking in the mirror.

“Never.”

“And that you admit, once and for all, that I have utterly and irrevocably spoiled you for any other.”

“Lucius, you have spoiled me for any other. You have me so totally messed up that I don’t know what’s pain and what’s pleasure. You have me so raw in every nerve that I can never, ever be whole again.”

“Good.”

“Hey, that was two conditions!”

“Have you forgotten the only rule already?”

“You make the rules.”

“Exactly.” Lucius continued with an evil smirk spreading on his face, “and you will be polite to my son.”

“Don’t push it! I’ll be exactly as polite to the brat as he is to me.”

Lucius’ backhanded blow was little more than a playful slap. It barely even knocked Harry off his feet.

“You’ve been spoiling him for twenty years. Its high time you started spoiling me for a change.”

“But I do. You have been receiving far more attention from me than Draco over the last few years.”

“Does that mean you won’t beat me up for calling him ‘the Ferret’ anymore?”

“No.”

“Good.”