Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

A Different Side of Lucius

"Rictusempra."

Harry awoke, gasping for breath, feeling invisible fingers dancing over his abdomen.

"Stop it!" he cried out breathlessly between helpless peals of laughter, kicking at the sheets on his bed.

Lucius Malfoy lounged carelessly in the doorway, watching with a smirk. "Not until I'm sufficiently assured you won't fall directly back to sleep."

"I won't! I won't!" Harry promised desperately, trying to roll out of the bed; he quickly found himself tumbling onto his hands and knees on the carpet, but the relentless tickling found him doubled up with giggles, unable to spot his wand on the nightstand.

"I don't know," Lucius said thoughtfully, the troubled expression on his face belied by his twinkling, gray eyes. "My son has been known to sleep like a baby right after this spell, and he doesn't slumber nearly as late as you apparently do." He glanced at the wall clock in a slow, infuriating manner that seemed to augment Harry's torment. "Yes, 11 o'clock. Can that be right? Why, it's nearly lunchtime, boy, and you're idling the day away in bed!"

The tickling was genuinely starting to hurt.

"I'll wake up, I promise, Mr. Malfoy!" Harry shouted, tears beginning to collect in his eyes. "Please, just take it off!"

Malfoy laughed richly. "Oh, very well. But only because you asked so nicely."

Harry let out a small cry of relief when the invisible fingers disappeared. Rubbing his stomach, he gingerly rose to his feet. His eyes fell upon Lucius, still hovering in the doorway, two wands clutched in his hand.

Harry's eyes widened. "That's not fair, you know. I had no chance to fight back."

"Of course it's not fair. A relation of yours will be pleased to inform you I'm a right bastard," Lucius replied smoothly, tossing Harry's wand onto the bed. "Be down to the parlor post haste. It looks like," he waggled his eyebrows, "we'll have our run of the house today."

Lucius swept from the doorway, and Harry found himself smiling. He collected his wand, running his eyes down its unfamiliar length. Snape had insisted upon transfiguring its appearance, lest Lucius recognize it in lieu of Harry's face.

Something morbid in Harry wondered just how this morning would have turned out had Lucius accio'd his wand and discovered himself looking at Harry Potter's eleven-inch phoenix feather and holly

The thought sobered him; the scene was suddenly a good deal less amusing.

* * *

Whatever Lucius Malfoy's flaws, and there were many, the man genuinely loved his son. He was vain, arrogant, selfish, and literally an agent of evil, yet he was a decent father.

At least, that was the impression Harry received from their discussion over brunch, which consisted of Malfoy making unfavorable comparisons between Snape and Malfoy Manors, and Malfoy bragging about Draco's various accomplishments, half of which either he or his son had invented; Harry had no recollection of Draco ever bagging a house cup for Slytherin, scoring the highest OWLs in the class, or taking the Dark--

"The Dark Mark?" Harry blurted out, shocked out of the listless stupor he'd slowly fallen into as Malfoy prattled on.

Malfoy's eyes were locked onto his, gray and perceptive, and Harry suddenly found his heart in his throat, wondering if he should pretend not to understand what Malfoy had been talking about.

"Yes," Lucius said quietly, a serpentine smile creeping across his lips. "The youngest Death Eater in two decades. After our dear Severus, of course."

Harry swallowed convulsively, remembering Snape's strict instructions to feign ignorance.

"You were aware Severus was a Death Eater, weren't you?" Lucius asked coyly, sipping his juice, never taking his eyes from Harry's face. "You seem to be an intelligent boy. Surely his harboring the fugitive Lucius Malfoy would have tipped you off."

Ah, common sense. Harry grabbed onto the excuse Lucius was offering him.

"Well, my parents… I guess they'd speculated about it," Harry found speaking difficult, his heart pounding as he tried to figure out just what he should say and what he shouldn't. "And I heard about that… uh, disgraceful talk about the ministry, um, about them putting you in Azkaban… So," he floundered for a moment, then asked gracelessly, "How was that?"

Malfoy's eyes darkened, his hand curling into a fist on the table. Harry cursed himself for an idiot; he truly was every bit the fool Snape said he was.

"Azkaban," Lucius spat, glaring into the distance. "That idiot Fudge! After everything I'd done to advance his career, he buckled under the slightest pressure!" He took a deep, steadying breath. "You can't know what it's like. Pray you never do. Torn from your home, your family, on some… on a ridiculous pretense, condemned in an absurd farce of a trial!"

Harry felt himself grow angry at Malfoy dismissing the circumstances that brought about Sirius's demise as ridiculous, the trial proving his support of Voldemort a farce, but he schooled his features into neutrality. He'd noticed that even when Malfoy lost himself in his rants, he could pick up upon the slightest facial inflection in his companions.

"I haven't seen my son in six months," Malfoy complained bitterly. "My wife has burned through half the Malfoy fortune already…" He buried his forehead in his hands, knocking over his goblet with his elbow; it was only when the smell of alcohol filled the air that Harry realized it wasn't pumpkin juice the man had been drinking. "My life is falling to pieces, and I am stuck here playing house with Severus!"

Harry reached over quietly to set the goblet back upright, and was just dabbing his napkin at the firewhiskey stain, considering a scourgify charm for the wet tablecloth, when Malfoy's head shot back up.

"What on earth are you doing?" he demanded, staring as though Harry were some bizarre animal.

Harry paused, wondering if he'd done something wrong. "Just cleaning the spilled drink--"

"Leave it for the house elf, you silly boy," Malfoy snapped, waving Harry off as if irritated, though amusement crept back into his expression. Whatever maudlin thoughts had so quickly stolen his composure seemed to disintegrate as he derided Harry's assumption of the role of house-elf.

"One would think you weren't even wizard-born!" Malfoy was still ranting, several minutes later as they strolled into the gardens.

Harry had been feeling awkward and rather jumpy from the moment Malfoy had insisted upon leaving the house, and this last statement was like ice-water washing down his back.

"Well, I am," he said lamely.

Malfoy's eyes were on him again, that gaze he disliked for its intensity. "You look like someone." An elegant finger pressed over pursed lips. "Someone familiar."

"Gee, who could that be?" Harry said sarcastically before he could stop himself.

Malfoy chuckled, his eyes softening with what looked suspiciously like fondness. "Oh, naturally, you look like Severus. But…"

Suddenly Malfoy's fingers crept onto his chin, tilting Harry's head up and into the sunlight; Harry squinted against the bright onslaught of light, unable to see through watery eyes Malfoy's black silhouette looming above him; the man scrutinized him carefully for about half a minute.

"Someone else…" Malfoy murmured. "A face. I just can't place it."

Harry felt strangely cold. He wasn't sure if Malfoy was thinking of the old Harry-- his eyes were the same-- or of his mother.

The fingers slipped from his chin, and Lucius retreated to a comfortable distance; Harry heard him summoning a house-elf and demanding a fresh decanter of firewhiskey.

"I've never been much of a drinker," Malfoy said when the house-elf returned, as though trying to excuse himself. He gestured vaguely to the goblet. "It's one of the few luxuries a good, pureblooded lineage could obtain me in that place; I suppose I've discovered the virtues of a stiff drink." He scowled into the distance. "One would think those guards had never even heard of the Malfoys. Forbidden visitors, indeed!"

"How terrible," Harry said dryly, knowing Malfoy was waiting for the comment, yet unable to imbue it with the proper enthusiasm.

"It was. But, fortunately, that distasteful period of my life is over." Malfoy sighed, helping himself to a generous swig of his drink. "Enough unpleasantness. Tell me about this person you wish to kill."

"Hurt," Harry corrected quickly.

"Details, boy," Malfoy said, turning to him with a salacious grin. "Who is it? Those inhuman parents who foisted you upon Severus for the holiday? I'd certainly kill any relative who did that to me. A scornful lover, perhaps?"

Harry snorted. Kinship curses would not generally apply to anyone he'd consider taking for a lover.

"Just a woman," Harry said quietly, trying to stay as close to the truth as he could. "She, uh… She, er, hurt my father. I want her to pay."

He glanced up nervously to see if Malfoy was buying it, and found the man staring down at him with an odd expression. Almost… misty-eyed.

"You're avenging your father," he murmured softly.

Harry shifted uneasily under that strange gaze. "Yeah, that's the idea."

Lucius Malfoy knelt swiftly down before him, bringing them to eye-level. A large hand clasped Harry warmly on the shoulder.

"He's fortunate to have you for a son, Septimus," said Malfoy in a voice thick with emotion. "And I'm… pleased I can help you take your revenge."

Despite the fact that the entire story was a complete lie, and despite Lucius's use of that ridiculous name Snape had given him, Harry felt oddly touched by the fact that the man seemed to genuinely mean what he was saying.

* * *

As soon as Snape stirred groggily from his slumber, the wards alerted him to the fact that the boy was no longer in the house.

The knowledge jolted him upright. His memories flickered back to the previous day, the unending agony of the Cruciatus; the Dark Lord had given him no explanation for it at the time, and the only reason his foggy mind had discerned for the punishment was that somehow they had discovered Harry Potter under his roof.

As soon as he'd been released, and he'd flooed right back to Snape Manor, the wards he'd set in place alerted him to the fact that Lucius had broken the protections around the boy's room. Certain the boy was already dead, he'd rushed up the stairs to find…

Lucius and Harry chatting amiably over an Ancient Runes text.

The day had been awful, from the beginning until the end. Between his own son watching Lucius Malfoy get the best of him, and the humiliating position the boy discovered him in where he'd collapsed in the potions lab, it made Severus want to bury himself back under the sheets rather than face the ridicule he was sure to see on their faces.

He could only imagine how amusing the boy had found the whole thing, seeing his hated professor suffer. How intensely delightful the whole thing had to be for him. And what a smug sense of superiority it must have given him, rubbing Snape's weaknesses in his face with that potion…

But now Potter was out of the house. There could be any number of reasons for it; all Severus could contemplate, however, was the possibility that Malfoy had taken him outside to kill him without interference.

"Point me!" he growled, shoving his wand into the air.

It was with a strength he barely possessed that he made his way down the stairs and stumbled out into the gardens.

He said something, he gave himself away, he's going to be killed…

The thoughts died away when he found Lucius splayed casually in the grass, watching the boy who stood several feet away skipping pebbles across the pond. Lucius glanced up when the crunch of gravel revealed Snape's presence. The boy's shoulders stiffened, the back of his neck flushing red in the sunlight, but he otherwise gave no indication he'd heard.

Good. He didn't want to face the little brat. He just knew he'd see some smug, satisfied expression in the boy's eyes.

"Severus," Lucius said, smiling broadly. "I thought you were going to sleep all day."

Snape fought down his fury, remembering Malfoy's haughty triumph the day before. He felt slightly foolish for not having anticipated Lucius's move. He'd regarded their disagreement as minor, but Lucius clearly had sensed that it could escalate into something more severe, so he'd concocted some ridiculous story to put Severus in the Dark Lord's bad graces. If it was anything like the last time Lucius had pulled such a stunt, it was probably some tale of Severus making derogatory comments about the Dark Lord's judgment.

Thanks to yesterday, any complaint Severus made about Lucius would seem like a petty attempt at vengeance. His unwanted house guest could now conduct himself with virtual impunity.

Lucius knew well his weakened position in the ranks since losing his good name. The fact that he'd had to break himself out of prison alone would have alerted him to it. Without the vaunted Malfoy name or the Malfoy fortune, Lucius was not nearly the power broker and valuable resource he had once been. Perhaps Lucius had moved preemptively, in the belief that Severus would exploit that weakness?

Well, he probably would have. He would have enjoyed the chance to lord over Lucius Malfoy.

But Lucius had anticipated it, and now Severus was in the disadvantaged position; he was now the servant out of the Dark Lord's favor.

"You know," Snape said softly to Malfoy, trying to keep the words from the boy's prying ears. "I woke up feeling quite… refreshed this morning." He sat down next to Lucius, lest he fall down and prove his statement false. "I wonder if our master wasn't rather… half-hearted in his reprimand."

Malfoy smiled thinly. "I'll be sure to mention it to him."

Oh, he hated Lucius.

"What are you doing out here?" Snape whispered. "Don't tell me an adolescent boy is your new diversion." He gestured at the oblivious Harry, now enraptured by some ducks drifting across the water.

A thin, blonde eyebrow rose. "Never fear; I still appreciate your sterling presence, Severus."

Snape scowled. "He was not to leave his room."

"I was not to enter his room," Lucius countered softly. "And I haven't. He came out to me."

Snape peered at him suspiciously. He disliked Malfoy's interest in Potter; he disliked it intensely. "What are you planning?"

An enigmatic look appeared on Lucius's face. "Why, nothing, Severus. Believe it or not, I'm quite bored, and he is good company." He must have seen something in Snape's expression that gave away his unease, because Lucius suddenly looked rather gleeful. "Does it bother you so much?"

"No!" Snape growled, turning away, glaring at Potter now. What in the hell was the boy thinking, coming out here with Lucius Malfoy?

He felt the weight of Lucius's amused gaze for a long moment, then Malfoy swept gracefully to his feet. "Septimus!"

Harry did not react to the name at all; Severus tensed, considering a variety of spells he could cast silently to alert the boy to the fact that the other man was calling his fake name, but when Malfoy again said, in a sterner voice, "Septimus!" Harry started, and quickly whipped around.

The dark-haired boy looked at Malfoy questioningly, and as Snape looked on, rather unnerved, Malfoy waved his wand and conjured a small loaf of bread.

"For your ducks," Malfoy said, smiling benignly, tossing the loaf into the boy's arms.

Harry stared at the man in surprise, looking between Malfoy and the bread in his arms. Really, had no one ever let him--

"Just throw some in the water, boy," Malfoy said impatiently. "They'll come to you."

Snape realized suddenly that of course no one had done this for the boy before; the Muggles had probably never indulged his interest in anything, much less in some ducks on a pond.

Snape shook off the thought, and noticed incredulously the tentative smile Harry offered Lucius Malfoy before he turned his attention back to the ducks.

Snape turned his suspicious glare back to Malfoy, somewhat disturbed to see Malfoy smiling as he watched the boy feed the ducks. Lucius noticed Snape watching him, and sent him a challenging look.

"Tell me, Lucius," Snape drawled as Malfoy returned to his spot on the grass. "Are you using the boy to attain some mastery over me, or are you indicating in this passive-aggressive manner that you still wish to see your son? I've informed you already that Draco has no discretion--"

"I know that," Lucius replied snappishly.

"He would brag about your escape in front of Potter and his Gryffindor friends," Snape continued ruthlessly. "The Gryffindors would tell the Headmaster, the Ministry would administer veritaserum, and I would be arrested. Neither that old codger, nor the Dark Lord will be willing to save me should I be ejected from my teaching job and clapped into Azkaban --"

"I know!" Lucius barked. He glared at Snape, genuinely angry. "I can wait. I've told you that." He folded his arms over his chest, and couldn't resist saying bitterly, "Amazing how a man of your resourcefulness can think of no other means by which I might visit my family."

Snape smirked. "Yes, I know how dearly you'd like to see your wife right now. Would it be the Cruciatus, or an outright killing curse?"

Lucius smiled at him prettily. "More like flowers and chocolate. Not all of us, Severus, have such casual malice towards our own kin."

Snape froze, thinking for one horrific moment that Lucius was referring to Harry, that Lucius had figured it out.

Then sense took over, and he realized that Lucius had been thinking back to Severus's father.

But the slip had been just enough. He noticed Lucius now scrutinizing him, gray eyes glittering and intent.

"I should update you on Draco's progress in potions," Snape said casually, ignoring the other man's scrutiny and carefully occluding his mind, lest any emotion manifest itself on his face.

The whole time, Lucius Malfoy watched him with renewed interest.


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