Butterfly 38 - LM/HP - been way too long!

[k155_me]

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Hey all. My thesis is done, but I won’t know how I did until the end of October, lame! However, I’m absolutely exhausted. Working full time doesn’t agree with me… I have all of year 4 planned out, and I will finish the story, I will, but I can’t promise how fast I’ll be about it!

I hate this chapter. I think I’ve lost my touch :/

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WARNING: minor, minor, minor LM/HP slash, and insinuations of twincest.

Words: 3,321
Chapter 38

June 25th 1994. Grimmauld Place.

School finished 7 days ago, and Harry had yet to hear from his friends or father. Instead, he was stuck in the Black ancestral home with his godfather who meant well and his old professor who was convinced he had some sort of anti-social behavioural problem.

Harry rolled his eyes, stirring the spoon in his cup of tea, remembering the second day he had spent at Grimmauld Place and how Remus had insisted that there must have been something wrong with Harry’s home life for the boy to be avoiding them so much. Sirius seemed to know what it was like to want to be anywhere but with your guardians, he had run away from home after all, but when Remus lectured the taller man easily took his friends’ side: anything to convince Harry to stay with them. Anything to keep his godson with him.

“Harry?” a voice called from the hallway. Harry sighed heavily, placing his tea back down on the counter. Half of him wondered if he could hide under the table and not be seen, but the other half, the more logical half, pointed out that the werewolf already knew he was in there, he could smell him, there was nowhere to hide.

“In here, Remus.” Harry leant back in his chair, lounging in what he hoped was a carefree manner. His insides were twisted into knots, and his fingers shook even as they squeezed the arm rests of his chair. Remus was staring at him intently as he entered the kitchen, Sirius in tow, and Harry resisted the urge to shrink back into the chair.

“What now?” He hissed instead, thoroughly sick of their ‘interventions’. Where were they when he really did need help? When Vernon hit him, or burned him, or pinned him to the ground with his trousers off? Where were they then, where were they before he had Evan?

“We’re worried about you, Harry,” Sirius started, though he was frowning as if he wasn’t sure he should be worried. Harry figured he was probably just saying what Remus told him to. Harry couldn’t fault the man, he was only doing what Lucius had asked, taking care of Harry, and he was lonely and afraid, desperate not to lose the last link to his old family. Remus, Harry recognized, was trying to make up for something: guilt at abandoning him perhaps, at believing Sirius to be a murderer, redeeming himself in his own eyes by helping Harry overcome his childhood abuse, because after all his aunt was a murderer. Who knew what else she might have done, to Harry? But that didn’t make these talks any less annoying or painful.

“You don’t need to be. I’m fine, Sirius. Remus is just suffering from multiple paranoid delusions. If he actually cared about me he wouldn’t have made him scarce after my parents’ deaths. You were in prison, what was his excuse?” Harry turned to cast a dirty look in Remus’ direction before he pushed passed Sirius.

The adults watched him leave the kitchen, glancing from Harry’s back to each other and back again. “You want to tell him you invited the Weasleys over or leave it till he calms down?” Sirius asked, the corner of his lips curving up slightly.

“Why can’t you?”

“You invited them. It’s only fair if you get the blame as well!” Sirius pointed out, nudging his friend’s shoulder with a fist before following Harry from the kitchen. Remus rolled his eyes, following his childhood friend.

They wouldn’t actually need to tell Harry the Weasleys were coming over, because the red headed family tumbled out of the fireplace one after the other as Harry entered the living room. Sirius and Remus weren’t far behind him, but they were far enough away that they weren’t able to stop Harry from jumping into the open floo once it was clear. With two words and a whirl of green fire, Harry was gone.

He landed in the atrium of Malfoy Manor, stumbling painfully out of the fireplace, his hands scrambling at the walls as he tried to keep his balance. He waited for a few minutes, frowning to himself as more time went by without anyone coming to see who had come through the floo.

“Fine,” Harry muttered to himself, heading out of the atrium. If they didn’t want to come for him, he’d go to them. It wouldn’t make that much of a difference anyway.

The living room was empty, the bedrooms were empty, Merlin even the kitchen was empty minus the handful of trembling house elves. Harry finally resorted to using the point me spell, pointing his wand at the window in case everybody was for some reason on the Quidditch pitch, but the wand just kept spinning, around and around. With tears in his eyes, Harry made his way to the bedroom that had been his since he had first met Draco. It was stupid to cry, he told himself: why was he expecting everyone to be at home, sitting around waiting for him. Just because he sat around waiting for owls that never came didn’t mean that everybody else’s life was as pathetic as his own. Curling up in the middle of his bed, Harry told himself not to cry, but the tears fell anyway.

XXX

July 1st 1994. Diagon Alley.

Theodore Nott waved from the table outside of Florescue’s. Harry felt a smile stretch over his mouth, lips quirked up and cheeks flushing in excitement. He hadn’t seen his friends in forever, and there they were, just ahead of him, just through the light crowd of people in the Alley. Theo had written to him, inviting him out with Draco and himself, and Harry had immediately demanded permission from Sirius to go. The Lord Black hadn’t even protested about Harry going out on his own, or meeting with ‘junior death eaters’ as some of Sirius’ friends called them. The man was pretty laid back about Harry seeing his friends, as long as Harry promised to come back at a reasonable time and not run away.

Harry finally cleared the crowd in front of him and stopped dead. “Where’s Draco?” Harry asked, frowning heavily as he slip into the chair beside Theo.

“His father wanted him to have duelling lessons this summer,” Theodore said with a shrug. “Draco, kind of, forgot that the lesson clashed with us meeting you today. I did remind him, but you know Draco and his perfectionism. Anything to impress his father.”

“Yeah,” Harry whispered. He looked around the Alley, feeling awkward and hurt. Theo opened his mouth, but fortunately a waitress appeared at the same time, bringing Theo’s ice cream and taking Harry’s order. “So, uh,” he began, waiting until the waitress left the second time before speaking, “I came to the Manor the other day. Where were you all?”

Theo looked a little uncomfortable, rubbing at the back of his head with his free hand and shovelling ice cream into his mouth with the other, delaying his response. “Mr Malfoy’s cousin threw a party or something in France. Draco invited me, and Evan went as well and well…” Theo rubbed his mouth, lowering his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Harry as he spoke. “We didn’t invite you because they didn’t want Black or Lupin going.1 Sorry!”

Harry’s eyes flew wide open, and the spoon he was holding dropped onto the table but Theo still wouldn’t look up at him. “Oh,” he said eventually.

“You ok?” the other boy mumbled, fiddling with his napkin.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Harry pushed his ice cream away, no longer hungry. He couldn’t look at Theodore without his heart feeling like it was being squeezed in his chest, and he couldn’t think of Lucius or Evan purposely not inviting him somewhere without the breath catching in his throat. Didn’t they love him anymore? “We should probably buy our school things!” He said, hurriedly pulling himself out of his chair. He was out of Theo’s sight by the time the boy fumbled to his feet, and the Slytherin chased after his friend feeling terrible at the stricken expression Harry had been wearing as he left.

XXX

July 12th 1994.

“What’s the matter Harry?” Fred Weasley asked, sitting down on the edge of Harry’s unmade bed. The boy was curled in the middle of it, with a pillow over his face. He looked rather pitiful, and the twins looked at each other and grinned.

“How can we help?” George asked, as he moved to sit on the other side of the bed.

“I want to go out, but I can’t get near the fireplace or the front door. That stupid portrait wakes up or Ginny or Ron notices me before I can get out of here.”

“You don’t like it here, do you?” Fred asked. He reached out to run his fingers through Harry’s hair, and the boy turned into his touch, allowing Fred to pet him and comfort him, as George lent over to rub circled on his back.

“I feel like I’m trapped. My friends are living their lives and having fun and being together and I’m being left behind and forgotten. Hermione can’t visit because the stupid Blacks put stupid wards up that only let people with magical parents come inside and Draco and Lucius have better things to do and Theo is stealing my dad and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

The twins ignored the mention of a dad, choosing instead to pull Harry into George’s lap while Fred leant up against his back. They hugged him tightly, whispering against his ear. “We’re here. You aren’t forgotten or alone, Harry. You have us.”

“Thanks.” Harry said, sniffling lightly.

He felt so stupid, but after half of the summer passing without his friends making any sort of effort it left him feeling off kilter and vulnerable. He was half tempted to kiss one of the twins, to stick it to Lucius who hadn’t even written to him this summer even though the man was constantly seen out and about by the Daily Prophet yet had no time for Harry. Or he could make them his new best friends and tell Draco and Theo where to go. But what about Evan? No one could replace Evan, or Lucius, or Draco, or Theo if Harry was willing to admit it to himself. He loved them. Only them. They were his family, and he was lost without them. He wondered, briefly, if this was how Sirius and Remus felt when the Potters had died. For a moment he empathised with them, felt the desolation thy must have felt, the hopelessness, the longing, and then he pushed it all away along with the twins.

Pulling out of their joint embrace, Harry crawled off the bed. He didn’t want to think about Fred or George, or how he had thought about kissing them to spite Lucius because it would be pointless and painful and it wasn’t what he wanted anyway. He didn’t want to use them to replace his friends, because the twins were sort of his friends anyway and people weren’t interchangeable.

“I’m ok now guys, thanks though.” Harry rubbed at his eyes, pushing his glasses up and out of the way. “But I’d really appreciate it if you’d help me sneak out of here.”

“No problem,” Fred said grinning.

“Happy to help.”

Once the twins started to blow stuff up, Harry found that it was rather easy to sneak out without anybody noticing him go. He arrived, once more, in Malfoy Manor’s atrium, but this time Lucius was waiting for him. The man had a hand raised, green powder trickling from between his fingers. With a soft smile, the blond dropped the floo powder back into the bowl and lowered his arm silently.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Harry told him, scowling and climbing out of the fireplace, “I’m angry with you.” He was anything but, but Harry wasn’t going to tell the man that. His heart beat louder, his breath came faster, and unconsciously he tilted his chin up waiting for Lucius to kiss him.

“I’ve been putting things in motion. It was unavoidable, but now, unfortunately, you won’t be rid of me for the remainder of the summer holidays, beloved.” Lucius drawled, taking three steps forward so that he could snake an arm around Harry’s narrow waist.

“What is it?” Harry asked curiously. He tilted his head higher, lips forming into a pout and his eyes fluttered shut as lips descended upon his.

“It’s a surprise, but you’ll love it. You’ll find out soon, beloved. Now, hush, more kissing, less talking.” And they were kissing again, Harry laughing softly into Lucius’ mouth, as his hands pulled at blond hair. His legs were up around Lucius’ waist, and the man carried him out of the atrium and through the manor. Neither cared who might see them, for they were in the privacy of Lucius’ home, surrounded by family.

But Severus Snape had tired of waiting for Lucius’ floo call and had come to visit. He stood in the abandoned atrium, eyes wide and mouth open as Lucius and Harry remained joined at the mouth, hands fumbling and squeezing, both panting heavily, until they disappeared out of sight. Snape narrowed his eyes in thought, contemplated interrupting them, but then dismissed the notion. He had no idea what was going on, whether Lucius had planned something, or if this was Harry’s doing, or even if somehow a marriage contract had been created between the two families. He couldn’t act until he knew what he was acting on, after all. He was a Slytherin: Slytherins waited and plotted. Only Gryffindors rushed in.

XXX

July 31st 1994. Grimmauld Place.

Order of the Phoenix members wondered through the Black home, drinking and laughing, some carrying plates filled with cake and chocolates. Harry watched them from the top of the stairs, scribbling hurriedly on a piece of parchment, taking down every name he had overheard or been introduced to. It was only when the fire place flared to life and Draco Malfoy stepped gracefully out of it that Harry rolled up the parchment and tucked it away.

It was his birthday party. Sirius had insisted, and the place was beautifully decorated and the food was amazing and loads of people had brought presents, but none of those people were Harry’s friends. But now Draco had arrived, and Lucius had appeared behind him, one hand on his snake-headed cane and the other on his son’s shoulder, and Harry pushed through the crowd of gaping Light-sided people to throw himself at Draco.

“I’ve missed you,” Harry whispered against Draco’s pale cheek, glancing up then to catch Lucius’ eyes and mouth the words again. “How’d the duelling lessons go?”

“Very well. I finished with distinctions.” Draco told him, offering a haughty sneer to the closest Wizard to them.

“Well I’m glad,” Harry told him, hugging him tighter for a second longer before letting go. And he was glad: he had been half determined to ignore Draco the next time he saw him, but Draco was his friend, and the boy only wanted to do well at his schooling and lessons, and that was no different to Harry ignoring Quidditch patches and parties to study in the Hogwarts library. Only, during the summer Harry was alone, and Draco had Theo, Evan and his parents in the same house. It sucked a little, but Draco was a good friend most of the time, and that required a little selflessness from Harry on occasion.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks. Want some cake?” Harry dragged both Lucius and Draco into the kitchen, the rest of the party watching them stupidly.

“What’s Malfoy doing here?” Ron hollered red in the face.

Four hours later, Ron was still asking the same question, but still nobody had given him a response. No one had been expecting the two blonds to arrive, but Sirius supposed he should have guessed. The Nott boy had been appearing unexpectedly over the past week, and even Malfoy Sr. had turned up once without an invitation, so of course they knew where Harry lived, and as Harry didn’t view them as a threat, and they had made no move to attack Sirius the house’s owner the wards hadn’t kept them out.

“Where are the Malfoys anyway?” Sirius asked, glancing around the room.

“Draco left, I saw him going into the floo ten minutes ago. Mr Malfoy must have gone ahead.” Fred and George glanced at each other, wondering whether they should correct Ginny’s statement. The twins had seen Lucius Malfoy heading upstairs, with Harry Potter trailing behind him. In the end they decided to keep quiet, but they pulled a string from their pocket with a strange looking globe hanging off the end, and they too made their way up the rickety staircase in search of a different kind of entertainment.

“Think we’ll hear anything, brother?”

“Why, Fred, are you planning to perv on poor, innocent Harry?”

“Innocent my arse, George! He brought Malfoy into his bedroom and locked the door!”

“They could be… talking?” George suggested, but they both laughed almost immediately after the words were out of his mouth.

They held up the prototype of something they had been working on. The globe was meant to be an ear, but it wasn’t quite finished yet. Nonetheless, the boys hoped that it would work as well as they had imagined. Fred pushed the string into the key hole and held the globe up to his ear. George leant in close to him, getting as close to the globe as he could manage with his face pressed against his brother’s. Fred tapped the string with his wand, and the spell activated just in time for them to hear Harry moan out Lucius’ name before gasping loudly, followed by Lucius groaning in orgasm. They could imagine them both, the younger one pressed to the mattress with Lucius over him, doing things to him, kissing and petting and touching. Fred pulled away first, panting lightly and palming the tent in the front of his trousers. George kept listening, only pulling away once he heard Harry whisper ‘I love you’, not wanting to intrude on something that private. There were lines you didn’t cross after all.

“Wish I was a fly on that wall.” Fred moaned, still palming himself.

George grinned lasciviously, casting a brief glance down at his own groin. “Need a hand with that, bro?” He asked, licking his lips and arching his eyebrows up.

“Thought you’d never ask!” Fred hopped to his feet, reaching out to grab his twin’s hand.

“Well, the extendable ear works at least!” George commented as Fred dragged him down the hallway. “Doesn’t look much like an ear though.”

Inside of the room, Lucius lay his head on Harry’s stomach, smiling softly against the quivering muscles and skin, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweet and the semen. Harry lay flat on his back, legs spread to accommodate Lucius who was fully dressed where Harry was completely naked.

“I love you,” Harry whispered softly, his hand moving to run through Lucius’ hair, a soft smile on his face as the man above him almost stopped breathing in surprise. Maybe it was too soon, or maybe it would remind Lucius of how young he was, and maybe Harry should get up and figure out what the hushed noises outside of his door were, but all thoughts were pushed out of his mind when Lucius finally spoke.

“I love you also, very much.” Lucius pressed a harder kiss to Harry’s stomach, just above the patch of hair that had grown around his sex. Harry smiled one hand still in Lucius’ hair and the other moving to press against his racing heart.

“Good.”

XXX

1 - It’s happened to me before. It feels like you’ve been punched in the stomach.

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Thanks for reading. I’m going to Italy next week :) But before I go my friend is having a Harry Potter themed house warming party. Excitement!

Words: 4,915
Chapter 39
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