Dragon Tamer

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Dragon Tamer

Chapter 25: Denial, Thy Name is Lucius

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The Malfoy family and Harry had just reached the limo waiting to take them to Malfoy Manor when Draco suddenly turned to the chauffer loading their bags into the car.

"You there!" he shouted. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The chauffer paused, obviously confused. "I'm loading your luggage, sir."

"That's not luggage," Draco said irritably, crossing his arms over his chest and looking pointedly at the carrier in the chauffer's hand. "That is my rabbit, and if you think for one instant that he's going in the boot with the rest of the bags then you are sadly mistaken."

Lucius whirled around to glare at his son. "Draco Malfoy, I told you to get rid of that ridiculous animal!"

"But Daddy," Draco whined. He was very good at whining. "He's my pet."

"I don't care what you think he is!" Lucius snapped. "No son of mine is going to keep a rabbit as a pet!"

"Draco darling, did you bring your little bunny home for the holidays?" Narcissa cooed. "Where is he, let me see."

Draco sent a gloating look to his father and snatched the pet carrier from the chauffer. "Here he is, Mum. Draco Lucius Malfoy the Third, or just DLM, as we've been calling him."

Narcissa peered into the carrier and smiled. "Oh he is just adorable, honey. Lucius, love, come look."

With a very pained expression, Lucius bent down and looked into the pet carrier. "Dear God, Draco. Could you have a gayer pet?"

Draco bristled, but Narcissa was already speaking again.

"Why don't you put him up front with the driver, hmmm? Harry's owl can go up front too."

"But Narcissa," Lucius whined. He was very good at whining. "I told him no."

"Oh Lucius sweetie, you're too strict with him," Narcissa said dismissively, sliding elegantly into the limo. "Besides, I don't see what's wrong with keeping a bunny as a pet. I think it's just too cute."

"Cute. Right," Lucius muttered, watching his wife, son, and his son's current shag disappear into the limo. "Because that's what I want my son and the only Malfoy heir to be. Cute." He sighed. This was going to be the worst holiday ever.

''''''''''''''''''''''

The ride to Malfoy Manor, was, surprisingly, very pleasant.

This was probably due to the fact that rather than talk to his "loony wife, flaming son, or the Boy Who Sodding Lived to Put Me Out of a Job," Lucius chose to sulk in the back of the car and nurse a large glass of scotch from the mini-bar.

To his absolute horror, Narcissa and Harry were getting along marvelously. Narcissa had taken an immediate liking to the "adorable little darling" and insisted on asking him all sorts of questions and ruffling his hair. Draco had stopped letting her ruffle his hair when he turned eleven, so she was quite thrilled to have Harry there, who was, as could be expected, quite unfazed at having his hair ruffled.

Harry had decided that, daft or no, he was immensely fond of Narcissa Malfoy. She may not have been the brightest crayon in the box, but she was sweet as could be, very posh, and very, very pretty.

They chatted for entire ride to the Manor, Draco looking immensely pleased that his mother and boyfriend were getting along so well. Lucius just watched the other three with an irritated look on his face.

Draco made one attempt to get his father to participate in the conversation.

"So Dad," he said, as amiably as he could, "Why so quiet? What are you thinking about?"

"Ways I can hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, or kill him and make it look like an accident," Lucius replied matter-of-factly. Harry turned big, worried green-eyes to Draco, but Narcissa just giggled.

"Oh Harry, don't pay him any mind," she said, smiling. "He's just a big kidder."

"Yes. Ha ha," Lucius said dryly, and poured himself another glass of scotch.

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The Malfoy limo drove through a pair of gorgeous wrought-iron gates, up the half-mile long driveway, and finally pulled up in front of Malfoy Manor. Harry's eyes grew huge at the sight. The entire manor and grounds were covered in fresh snow, and everything was pure white and sparkling. It was beautiful.

The Malfoys and Harry walked through the ornate front doors and into a large entrance way. A small house-elf greeted them and took their coats. They walked out of the entrance way and then Harry gasped.

They were in an enormous room, with two magnificent sweeping stairways that came down from either side of the house. Enormous, expensive looking furniture, large chandeliers and all sorts of elegant ornamental rugs and heirlooms decorated the room.

"Wow," Harry said, impressed. "This place is amazing."

"I'm glad you think so, Harry dear," Narcissa said dotingly. "I'm just going to run off to the kitchens, check on plans for dinner. Ta-ta!" She wandered off with the small house elf in what Harry assumed was the direction of the kitchens.

"Harry, come on, let me show you where you're staying," Draco said, pulling Harry towards the staircase on the right that led to the west wing of the house.

Lucius smiled thinly. "Draco, you're taking Potter the wrong way. I had the house elves fix him a room in the guest quarters."

Draco stopped and turned to face his dad with narrowed eyes. "Which conveniently happens to be on the opposite side of the manor from my bedroom?"

Lucius shrugged. "Purely coincidence, I assure you."

"Right," said Draco disbelivingly. He turned back to Harry and smiled. "Come on, Harry, we're going up to my bedroom, because that's where you'll be staying."

Lucius raised his eyebrows. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, if you think one instant that your little boy-toy is sleeping in your bed then you are sadly mistaken. This is my house, and as long as you live under my roof you will follow my rules and - "

"LOOOO-CIOUS!!"

"Why, Lord?" Lucius sighed under his breath, as he heard the approaching click of high heels on the marble floor.

"Lucius, sweetie," Narcissa trilled, walking into the room. "I need your opinion about dinner tonight. After all, we want to impress our little celebrity guest, don't we?" she finished with a wink in Harry's direction. Harry smiled shyly and turned rather pink.

Lucius looked beyond pained. "Narcissa, please, can we talk about this later? Draco and I are having an important conversation."

"Oooh, are you really? That sounds like fun," Narcissa gushed. Lucius rolled his eyes, and Draco saw his opportunity.

"Mummy, Harry can stay in my room during the holidays, right?" he asked, giving his mother the most innocent, angelic face he knew how to give. Narcissa smiled back brightly.

"Of course, sweetie," Narcissa said fondly. Lucius threw his hands up in the air.

"Narcissa! I already told him no!"

Narcissa looked slightly perplexed. "Well, now why would you say a silly thing like that? Of course Harry can stay in Draco's room, they're boyfriends." She smiled at Harry and Draco, who both smiled back brightly. "And they're just the cutest little couple I've ever seen!"

"But - "

"But nothing, Lucius dear."

"But - "

"Come along, now, I need you in the dining room," Narcissa said, reaching out and grabbing Lucius by the hand. "Why don't you two head upstairs to Draco's room," she said, addressing Harry and Draco, "and get cleaned up for dinner? It'll be ready in no time."

"Sure thing, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said politely.

"Of course, Mum," said Draco, throwing a snotty look at his dad behind his mother's back. He led Harry up the stairs to the West Wing of the Manor.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Harry turned to Draco.

"Draco, your parents are a bit..."

"Yeah, I know. You'll get used to it. Come on, let's go."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Good God, how big is this bloody place?" Harry said in awe, as they walked down seemingly never-ending corridors that supposedly lead to Draco's room.

"Huge," Draco said smugly, halting in front of a pair of carved oak doors. "This is my suite here, where you'll be staying, thank God. My dad can be such a prick sometimes."

"You don't say," said Harry dryly.

Draco said the password (Draco Malfoy is a Sex God), and flung open the doors dramatically. Harry looked very impressed as they walked into a sitting room furnished with a cushy leather sofa and arm chair and a huge marble fireplace. The entire room was very tastefully decorated in black and white

"Bedroom's through there," Draco said casually, indicating a pair of French doors at the back of the room. Bathroom's off the bedroom, naturally."

"This place is...wow..." Harry said, taking it all in. "Your rooms are bigger than my aunt and uncle's house in Surrey."

"Are they? Well, we are filthy rich, you know," Draco said, sitting down on the sofa.

Harry flopped down next to him. "This is really nice," he said, feeling the leather with one hand.

"Italian. Custom-made. It'll do."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You are such a spoiled brat sometimes." He looked around the room. "And so mind-bendingly gay."

"Don't hear you complaining," Draco murmured into Harry's ear, running his hand teasingly up Harry's thigh.

Harry reached down and firmly halted Draco's hand.

"Awww, Harry," Draco whined, and Harry shook his head.

"Not right now, your parents expect us downstairs for dinner, and I don't want to screw things up with them. I think I've made a good first impression on your mum."

"You have. She absolutely adores you already."

Harry looked very pleased. "Really? Well, then, and I'd like to keep it that way by not showing up for dinner obviously ravished by her son."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't be silly, Mum won't care. She'll probably think it's adorable that we couldn't keep our hands off each other."

Harry didn't look convinced, so Draco leaned in closer. "Besides, just think of how pissed off my dad would be if I came down to dinner completely snogged out."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Now that is rather tempting."

Draco casually began to shift so he could straddle Harry's lap. "Isn't it," he murmured, sliding his hands up Harry's chest. "We could come down with unbuttoned shirts," he said, slowly unfastening the top button of Harry's shirt, noticing Harry's breathing quicken slightly. "Mmmm," Draco purred, kissing the newly exposed collar bone, "Or how about messy hair?" He reached up to run his hand through Harry's hair before grabbing onto it firmly and using the messy black strands to twist Harry's head slightly to the side. "Or red, ravished lips?" he whispered, his lips inches from Harry's.

Harry closed his eyes, waiting to feel Draco's soft lips on his own.

Then he remembered something.

"You bastard!" he said, opening his eyes and slightly startling Draco. "That's exactly what you and Oliver did to make it look like you two had just shagged!"

Draco leaned back from Harry in a huff. "Way to kill the mood, Harry," he said, sulking. Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Stop pouting," he said firmly to the blond on his lap. "We don't have time right now, and while I do realize that your dad wants to kill me - literally - I'd still like to make an attempt to have a decent, civil relationship with him."

"But - "

"But nothing, Draco."

"But - "

"No."

"Fine," said Draco, sighing heavily. He reluctantly climbed off Harry's lap and stood up, reaching out a hand to pull Harry to his feet. He stood Harry up and looked at him critically.

"You need to brush your hair," he said, and Harry self-consciously raised a hand to his head.

"Is it standing up all over the place?" he asked anxiously. "It always does that and I can never control it."

Draco smiled. "Yes, it is, but it looks bloody adorable, actually."

Harry was now trying to smooth it down with both hands, and Draco just shook his head.

"Let me try," he said sweetly. "Just let me get my brush from my - hey, where's my suitcase?" he said, looking around the room. "Damn house elf hasn't brought it up yet. Yoda, where are you? I need my suitcase, damn it. Bloody house elves, never around when you - "

Harry wasn't listening to him. "Draco, what did you just say?"

"What? Oh, I said bloody house elves are never around when you - "

Harry shook his head. "Before that."

"Umm...Yoda, where are you, I need my suitcase?"

"Draco...who is Yoda?"

"One of our house elves, obviously."

Harry began to shake with suppressed laughter. Draco looked at him crossly.

"Now what, Potter?"

"Your...your house elf is named...oh my God, I can't believe it," Harry was having trouble fighting back laughter.

At that moment there was a POP and a small, green house-elf with a small button nose and big ears that stuck straight out of his head appeared. Harry took one look and began laughing even harder.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Potter, I don't know what's gotten into you." He turned to the elf. "Now listen to me, Yoda, I need to know - "

"YODA!!" Harry howled, clutching at his stomach. The house elf looked slightly alarmed.

"Master Malfoy, is that...Harry Potter?" the little elf said, looking at the laughing Harry with a mixture of awe and worry.

Draco nodded impatiently. "Yes, that wackjob sometimes goes by the name of Harry Potter."

"Is Mr. Harry Potter, okay, sir?" the elf asked worriedly. Harry took a deep breath and tried to steady himself.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," he said, sniffing slightly and wiping away a tear. "It's just...your name...its Yoda...Oh my God, Yoda..." He trailed off, beginning to giggle again, and looked at Draco and the house elf, who were both giving him very blank stares.

Harry leaned down on one knee to look the little elf in the face. "Will you do me a favor?" he asked, and the elf nodded eagerly.

"I is doing anything for Mr. Harry Potter, sir!" he said earnestly, and Harry grinned.

"Okay, I want you to say 'Use the Force, Luke. Use the Force.' Can you say that for me?"

The elf looked at Draco, confused, and Draco shrugged.

"I don't get it either, but if that's what he wants go ahead."

Harry nodded earnestly. "Please?"

The elf looked uncertain, but eager to please. "Use the Force, Luke," it squeaked in its little house elf voice. "Use the Force."

Harry collapsed in laughter. "That's brilliant," he cried, and Draco gave him a dirty look.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he said crossly, and Harry just shook his head.

"Muggle movie," he attempted to explain, and then looked back up at the elf eagerly. "Now say 'Adventure. Excitement. A Jedi Knight craves not these things.'"

"Potter, you've officially lost your mind," Draco said, shaking his head, and Harry found incredible entertainment in the form of a house elf for the next several minutes.

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"I can't believe your house elf is named Yoda," Harry was saying, as he and Draco made their way downstairs.

"Honestly, Potter, I don't see why that's funny. Now do shut up about that already before I'm forced to resurrect the leather paddle and make you shut up."

"Okay, okay," said Harry, wiping a tear of mirth out of his eyes. "You know, Hermione would think it was a scream."

Draco' retort was cut short as they turned the corner and walked into the Malfoy's beautiful formal dining room, with gleaming hardwood floors, sparkling crystal, and a shimmering chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Lucius and Narcissa were sitting at opposite ends of a large dining table, Narcissa drinking a glass of white wine and Lucius working his way through a bottle of scotch.

"Hello, boys," Narcissa gushed.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said politely. "This is a really nice room," he added, sliding into a seat. Draco took the seat across from him.

"Take a good look at it, Potter," Lucius cackled. "It may be the last thing you ever see."

Harry looked alarmed, but Draco just rolled his eyes.

"Mum, make Dad stop threatening Harry," he said plaintively. Narcissa smiled at Harry.

"Oh, don't mind Lucius, Harry dear. He says these things but he doesn't really mean it. In fact, he's really just an old softie."

At the mortified expression on Lucius Malfoy's face, Harry let out a snort of laughter that was quickly modified into a cough.

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Dinner was delicious, some kind of French food that Harry didn't recognize but that he found to be very tasty anyway. And the company at the table was, if not exactly normal, at least certainly very interesting.

"That's a lovely shirt, Harry," Narcissa said sweetly, partway through the meal, making Harry smile.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. Draco picked it out."

Narcissa looked dotingly at her only child. "He really is just so good with clothing, isn't he?"

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Hear that Draco? That's something you can put on your Death Eater application: Draco Malfoy has mastered all three Unforgivable Curses and has a fabulous sense of fashion."

"Now Lucius, let's not talk business at the dinner table," Narcissa interjected. "Draco, why don't you tell us all about this term at Hogwarts? How did your classes go?"

Draco proceeded to tell his parents all about his classes, making sure to mention his excellent grades (second to Hermione, of course, but after six years he was rather resigned to that fact).

"Oh darling, we're so proud of you!" Narcissa said fondly, when Draco finished, and Draco beamed at his mum.

"Oh yes. So proud. You have a boyfriend and a bunny. You're a real credit to the Malfoy name," Lucius muttered, throwing back another drink.

Draco glowered at him, and pointedly ignored his father.

"Harry, love, did you know my mother's a huge Quidditch fan?" he said, and Harry's eyes lit up.

"You are?"

"Oh, yes," Narcissa said, her eyes lighting up as well. "I was the Slytherin seeker when I went to Hogwarts, and now I follow professional Quidditch avidly."

"Do you really? Me too," Harry said eagerly. "I remember you were at the World Cup a couple years ago. What did you think of - "

"Victor Krum?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically.

Narcissa smiled. "Oh, he was brilliant, wasn't he? When he did that Wronkski Feint, I just about screamed."

"Mum, Harry's a top seeker," Draco informed Narcissa, and Harry blushed slightly at the praise. "He's being recruited by almost every team in the UK to play professionally."

"Gracious me, Harry, but that's wonderful!" Narcissa said to a by now beet-red Harry, who tried to play it off.

"Oh, I'm not that good, really," he said hastily. "And Draco's fantastic. He beat me to the snitch just the other day when we were playing one-on-one."

At this, Lucius perked up. "You beat Potter to the snitch, Draco? That's marvelous, why didn't you say anything?"

Draco gave his dad a snotty look. "The only reason I beat Harry was because he and I were playing a sex game, and I managed to distract him by saying I had erotic wet dreams about him."

Lucius went a violent shade of purple and began stammering.

"Well aren't you two the cutest?" Narcissa gushed. "Now, who wants dessert?"

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

After dessert, Draco suggested that Narcissa go show Harry her Quidditch memorabilia.

"I'll meet you up in my room in a bit," Draco reassured Harry. "I just need to have a quick chat with my dad."

Harry nodded. "Thanks for dinner, Mr. Malfoy," he said hesitantly, and Lucius just glared at him.

"Come on, darling, I can't wait to show you my collection of vintage brooms," Narcissa said, pulling Harry out of the dining room.

Draco turned to face his father, and the two Malfoy men eyed each other hostilely.

Finally, Lucius broke the ice. "So, Draco, have you given any more thought to your marriage with Pansy Parkinson?"

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Oh for God's sake, Dad, you can't be serious."

"I assure you I'm quite serious."

Draco took a deep breath and set his jaw. "I'm not marrying Pansy."

"Draco, be reasonable. She's a lovely girl, and it's a wonderful match."

"It's not a wonderful match! Pansy's a card-carrying lesbian."

"Don't be silly, Draco."

"She makes a pass at Mum every time she comes over!"

"That's ridiculous, she's just friendly."

Draco tried again. "Well, what about me? I'm gayer than Gilderoy Lockhart."

"Rubbish."

"Queer as a three-sickle coin."

"Nonsense."

"Flaming as a dragon's breath."

"You're just experimenting."

Draco looked aghast. "Dad, what part of this do you not understand? Pansy and I are both gay!"

"Well, see, there you go. You've got something in common."

Draco was beginning to get angry. "We made a deal. The deal was I had to stay together with Harry Potter. Now, I've done my part. I'm still with Harry, and I'm not giving him up."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Really, Draco, I can't believe you're being sentimental about Potter. What kind of Malfoy are you, anyway?"

"A happy kind! I'm sentimental about Harry because I love him!"

"Okay, now you're just trying to gross me out."

Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Dad, you're going to have to get used to this. Your son is gay and in love with Harry Potter. Deal with it."

"No," Lucius said, his grey eyes flashing. "I won't accept this because I know that you're not really gay, Draco!"

Draco stood up. "Fine, Dad, if that's what you think." He narrowed his own grey eyes. "I'm just going to have to prove that you're wrong."

And with that he whirled around and left the dining room.

''''''''''''''''''''

Draco burst through the doors of his room, seriously annoyed and planning to vent and bitch to Harry about his stupid closet-case father.

"Harry?" he called out. There was no answer. Draco figured that Harry was probably still with Narcissa, looking at her Quidditch memorabilia. Deciding to get ready for bed and wait for Harry, Draco went to hang up the robes he had been wearing earlier that day on the train.

As his hand brushed the cloth, he felt a hard, rectangular object in the pockets. Of course. Hermione's little black book.

Suddenly feeling that the minutes he was going to spend waiting for Harry to get back were going to move very quickly, he extracted the book, threw on some pajamas, and hopped into bed. Settling back against the fluffy pillows, Draco reverently opened the book.

It was so typically Hermione that Draco was amused. Each section was meticulously tabbed off and labeled, with titles like "games," "roleplay," and "food." Feeling a bit like a kid in a candy store, Draco flipped to the section labeled "oral sex" and began to read.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

A little while later, a very happy and enthusiastic Harry Potter opened the doors to Draco's suite and bounded into the sitting room.

"Draco? Are you here?"

"Uh...I'm, uh...back here, Harry!" Draco's voice rang out, sounding slightly flustered. Harry burst into the bedroom, babbling nonstop.

"Draco, your Mum is brilliant," he said exuberantly, apparently not noticing that Draco was tucked securely under the covers and his cheeks were flushed. "Her broomstick collection is incredible. She actually has an Oakshaft 79, did you know that?"

"What? Oh, yeah, yeah, Oakshaft. Whatever," Draco said distractedly. "Listen Harry, why don't you come to bed and then we can talk some more, alright?"

"Alright," Harry said agreeably. "Be right back." He grabbed some pajamas from his suitcase and disappeared into the bathroom.

As soon as he was gone Draco pulled the book out from under his pillow. He carefully opened the top drawer of the nightstand next to his bed and slipped the book into a special hiding place under the false bottom of the drawer.

He really did have every intention of sharing the book with Harry - eventually. For the moment, though, he wanted Harry to think that everything he was about to do to him was all just a result of Draco being that much of a sex god.

"Hurry up, Harry," he mentally shouted, fidgeting impatiently under the covers, because damn if that book hadn't left him in something of an eager state.

Finally (well, truthfully about all of three minutes later) Harry opened the bathroom door and walked out, dressed only in a pair of plaid pajama pants.

Draco licked his lips.

Harry hopped up into the bed and slid under the covers next to Draco. "So anyway, your mum's collection is just amazing, she has autographs from every single member of the Holyhead Harpies, the Falmouth Falcons, the Montrose Magpies, and - "

"That's great, Harry, really," Draco said, grabbing his wand. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to have sex. Nox!"

And with that he rolled on top of Harry and began to kiss him eagerly.

"Sex? Oh, okay...mmmm," Harry managed to say, as Draco moved his insistent kisses from Harry's lips to his neck. Draco trailed a line of little kisses and nibbles down Harry's neck, pausing to swirl his tongue over Harry's collarbone.

"Mmm...that's...that's good," Harry panted, as Draco moved his tongue ever lower over Harry's torso, taking a nipple into his teeth and biting down.

"Fuck," Harry hissed, but Draco paid no attention, and began to trace a circle around Harry's bellybutton with his tongue. Harry reached down and threaded Draco's silky locks through his fingers, and then tried to sit up so he would have better access to Draco's body.

Draco pushed him back down against the pillows. "Just lay back," he instructed, placing his hands on the waistband of Harry's pants.

Harry obediently lay back down, and watched rapturously as Draco pulled off his pajama bottoms. "What are you doing?"

Draco smiled mischievously. "I just want to try something," he murmured, and Harry could feel Draco's breath hot against his skin. "Close your eyes."

Harry dutifully shut his eyes, only to have them fly back open in shock a moment later when Draco did something incredibly impressive involving his tongue, the back of his throat, and both hands all at once.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Did you like it?"

"Hell yeah. Fuck yes. Do that again."

Draco was more than happy to oblige. He did it again, and again, and again, and pretty soon Harry was moaning and twisting the sheets in his hands, saying all manner of filthy things, calling Draco a "sex god" and begging him to never stop.

Much much later, after Harry had collapsed in Draco's arms and fallen deeply asleep against his chest, a very smug and satisfied Draco had the passing thought the he really ought to write Hermione a thank you note, before he too drifted off to sleep.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''