Blind Devotion

Blind Devotion

Lucius Malfoy had already switched sides, acting as an agent for Dumbledore. No one knew why this initial change had occurred, nor why the Headmaster of Hogwarts had chosen to believe the Death eater was sincere. It certainly didn't clarify matters when, upon receiving definitive intelligence as to Lord Voldemort's plot, Lucius requested additional motivation in order to betray his former Dark Lord. However, the biggest mystery to those who know of it still remains why Dumbledore actually acceded to Lucius's wishes.

You may ask, does this really matter in the long run? After all, the Dark Lord was defeated, was he not? Yes, the war was won, but only a select few heard the real story behind what happened. Not many know what the defeat of Lord Voldemort cost Harry Potter.

Most believe that Harry too died in the battle that killed Lord Voldemort. That is what everyone involved would like you to believe. However, Harry was simply knocked unconscious in that final battle when the killing blow was dealt. Dumbledore whisked him away before anyone could discover his true status. Aside from the Headmaster, only three people ever saw Harry again.

Harry's comatose form was brought to Malfoy Manor, as per the agreement made between Dumbledore and Lucius. Before the boy even regained consciousness, a powerful memory charm was cast upon him, wiping his memory completely clear.

When Lucius Malfoy arrived at the mansion naught but a few hours later, he was dealing with a clean slate. The boy lay on a leather sofa in one of the drawing rooms, still sleeping. Dumbledore sat at his feet, looking older and more haggard then ever he had before. "If we hadn't needed you so direly, I never would have agreed to this," the old man muttered darkly, rising to his feet. "I'll be sending Lupin once per month to see that you aren't mistreating him. Frankly, I can't bear to look at him any longer, knowing what he'll wake up to. I don't know what you want with him, nor do I want to. Merlin help me if you hurt him..."

Lucius's silver eyes narrowed. "It's good to know just how much you truly think of me, Dumbledore," he muttered. "I have no reason to hurt him. He killed my 'master'; freed me from a life of servitude."

"So you would repay him by enslaving him?" Dumbledore replied, his tone incredulous.

The blonde averted his eyes slightly, as much an admittance of guilt as he would allow the other man to see. "I have my reasons," he murmured impassively. "Feel free to check up on him whenever you like," he added sharply, an indication that he wanted the older man to leave.

Dumbledore gave him a warning look before emitting a soft, resigned sigh and turning to leave. He knew Lucius had changed from the fact that the man had betrayed Voldemort, but the degree of that change was uncertain. He couldn't understand what the man's motivation could be if he'd truly changed as much as appearances would make it seem.

When the old man had gone, Lucius finally emitted a quiet sigh as he sank down onto the couch Harry was lying on. He gazed down at the boy, running a finger up his jaw to caress through that unruly hair. He didn't pull away when the boy stirred at his touch, his lips curling slightly when Harry's eyes flickered open. He could see the confusion in the boy's expression, and he chose his words carefully.

"You're awake, Harry," he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the boy's forehead. "You must have fallen harder than I thought."

"What?" Harry asked slowly, sitting up. His eyes were wide and frightened. "What do you mean? Who are you?" He looked around quickly. "Where am I?"

Lucius repressed a satisfied smile that Dumbledore had done as he'd promised, instead schooling his expression into one of concern. His tone was somewhat hurt when he spoke. "What do you mean, 'who am I'?" he asked, inching closer to the boy. "It's Lucius. Lucius Malfoy? Don't you remember? You're in the manor."

The blonde was pleased to see that Harry's face only became more confused. He truly was dealing with a clean slate. "Lucius?" Harry murmured. "Then I know you?"

"You don't remember?" Lucius voice was even more pained. He bit his lip as he ran his fingers through the boy's hair. He smiled slightly as Harry leaned into the touch imperceptibly. "Harry?" he murmured softly when the boy didn't reply.

"No, I don't," Harry replied. He rested his head lightly against the hand in his hair, taking reassurance from the gesture though he didn't recognize the man offering it. "You're calling me Harry because that is my name, aren't you?"

Lucius nodded, his fingers probing the boy's head as though he were searching for something. "You must have hit your head much harder than I thought." He focused into Harry's eyes. "Any pain?" he murmured. "I don't feel anything..."

Harry shook his head slightly. "I hit my head? I-I don't remember anything...at all." The boy's lip quivered. Lucius could tell he was terrified at the prospect of having no memory.

"I'll simply have to reteach you everything," the blonde responded gently.

"Re-reteach me?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"You have certain responsibilities living with me here at the manor, and if you've forgotten everything, I'll have to reinstruct you," Lucius explained easily.

Harry swallowed thickly. "Alright," he murmured with a nod.

Lucius reached out and grasped the boy's hand as he rose to his feet, pulling Harry to his feet as well. "Well, aside from this amnesia, I can't see a thing wrong with you. I think you'll probably need more sleep, though. Perhaps you'll remember more in the morning. Come with me." The blonde wrapped an arm around the boy's waist as he led him from the room and along several corridors.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked quietly, leaning towards the man as they walked, taking comfort in his closeness. He tried to memorize their path, but the halls seemed near-identical, and he finally just gave up.

"To our room," Lucius answered nonchalantly, secretly watching the boy out of the corner of his eye. He wondered how Harry would take this bit of information.

The green-eyed boy turned his head quickly to regard the man. "We share a room?" he asked. "Are we," he swallowed thickly, a faint blush rising to his cheeks, "lovers?" As he scrutinized the man, he realized it wasn't such a terrible proposition. The blonde seemed to care about him, and had been nothing but patient and concerned. Also, Harry couldn't deny that the man was attractive, despite the fact that he was older.

"To say the least," Lucius murmured, a faint smirk on his face. He leaned down slightly, his lips brushing the boy's ear gently when he spoke. "It goes a bit deeper than that, really. I'll make you understand, luv." The blonde was delighted to feel Harry shudder against him.

Harry nodded, his eyes half-shut as he attempted to control his body. He didn't resist as Lucius led him into an enormous bedroom, though he was beginning to get nervous. He wanted very much to please this man who seemed to be his lover, but at the same time, he couldn't remember a thing. He wasn't particularly comfortable with the prospect of sleeping in the same bed as a man he didn't recognize, let alone anything else it might lead to.

Lucius was expecting this hesitance, however. He ran his fingers through the boy's hair reassuringly as he guided him to the massive bed. He didn't utter a word as he turned away to pull a set of pajamas from one of the drawers he had prepared ahead of time before turning back to the raven-haired boy seated on his bed. "The top three drawers are yours, plus half the closet," he murmured, handing Harry the clothing before turning back to retrieve a pair of pajama pants for himself. He turned to undress, smirking slightly when he felt the boy's gaze upon him, and he didn't turn back until he heard the rustle of the blankets behind him.

The blonde felt Harry's slight shudder as he crawled into bed beside the boy. "Don't worry," Lucius murmured calmly, wrapping an arm around Harry to pull him closer. "I understand that you don't seem to remember me. I don't intend to make you do anything you aren't comfortable with." He buried the fingers of one hand in the boy's thick hair. "Now sleep," he murmured softly, his own eyelids heavy with fatigue from the battle. "You need it." Harry was already asleep, his head nestled against Lucius's chest.

~~~***~~~

Harry was awoken early the next morning by a light knocking on Lucius's door. Lucius woke as well, but made no indication that he had, wanting to observe this interaction without the boy knowing he was watching. He emitted a quiet, thick moan as he turned in his "sleep", simultaneously giving himself a better view of the door while releasing the boy, that Harry might move without "disturbing" the blonde.

Lucius had informed Draco of what he planned to do beforehand because, though the two boys had ended up fighting for the same side, there was no friendship between them. Though the man valued his son's opinion, he wasn't going to bend on this situation, and he wanted to see that Draco did as he had been instructed.

It took a few moments for Harry to remember where he was, and another several seconds to realize Lucius wasn't getting up. He padded to the door, rubbing his eyes sleepily and wondering who could be on the other side of the door. His eyes widened with shock when he opened the door and found a boy his own age that was the likeness of Lucius standing there. His mind whirled with confusion.

To be honest, Draco hadn't known what to expect either, despite what his father had told him. The confused reception he received seemed to cement the idea that Harry now belonged to Lucius. "Morning, Harry," the blonde boy whispered, noting that his father still slept. "I was wondering if you still were going to play Quidditch with me today. I was thinking after breakfast."

Harry was delighted to realize that he remembered what Quidditch was, but he was at a loss as to who this boy, who looked to be Lucius's progeny, was, if he, Harry, was indeed the man's lover. He bit his lip. "Um, apparently I hit my head yesterday, because I don't remember anything," he murmured just as quietly. He lowered his eyes, though logically he had no reason to feel guilty.

The blonde boy's eyes widened, though truly he wasn't surprised by Harry's words. "Nothing?" he asked, his tone carefully gauged.

"Well, I remember what Quidditch is, but nothing of people or places, nor how I learned the things I do remember."

Even that was more than Draco had been expecting, though he was pleased to learn that Harry wasn't going to be completely useless to him. "Well," he hesitated, "I'm Draco Malfoy, and I'm your best friend," he murmured, reciting what his father had told him to say. "That," he inclined his head in Lucius's direction, "is my father."

Harry balked, his suspicion confirmed. "B-but, w-what about your mother?" he stammered. The situation was quickly growing more and more confusing.

"She's dead," Draco murmured quietly, lowering his eyes as a genuine flash of pain crossed his expression. "It was an arranged marriage, anyway," the blonde continued, his voice now carefully neutral. "My father had no interest in women except to continue the family lineage, and my mother no interest in men. It was merely a convenience for the both of them." His last word rang of such finality that it left no room for further questions along that line of inquiry.

"Oh," was all Harry could think to say. He floundered for some other topic. He recalled the blonde's initial purpose in coming. "Anyway," he mumbled uncomfortably, "I'd love to play Quidditch with you, but I'll have to see if it's alright, considering what happened yesterday." He shifted slightly. "And I don't remember where anything is, so you'll have to take me wherever we usually play."

Draco nodded. "I'll take you out after breakfast, then. Your broom is stored with mine, so I'll show you where that is as well." He made as if to leave, before turning back to Harry. "Oh, and you're supposed to wake Father at nine. I didn't know if you'd been told, or remembered or anything." The blonde turned and closed the door behind him. He was surprised at the fact that it hadn't been as difficult to be friendly with Harry as he had expected.

Harry stifled a yawn as he returned to the enormous bed, noting that the mantle clock told him he had another fifteen minutes before he was due to awaken Lucius. The blonde had other ideas, however, and rolled over as Harry crawled back beside him, yawning as though he'd just woken. He leaned up slightly to press a kiss to the boy's lips, regarding him carefully, though his eyelids still appeared heavy with sleep.

The dark-haired boy flushed slightly, but the corner of his mouth twitched with an almost-smile, so Lucius decided there had been no harm in the seemingly innocent gesture. Harry couldn't think of any sort of response to Lucius's action, and so uttered the first thing he could think of. "You didn't tell me I was to wake you."

Lucius's eyes narrowed marginally, but upon recognizing there had been no accusation in the boy's tone, his countenance cleared. If Harry had noticed the brief change in the blonde's expression, the boy made no indication of it, to the man's relief.

"After what you went through yesterday, I assumed you would need the sleep." Lucius raised an eyebrow in the semblance of amusement. "It appears as though I was mistaken. Was that my son at the door?"

Harry nodded. "He said we had plans this morning to play Quidditch." He focused into the blonde's eyes. "Do you think it'll be alright if I do?"

Lucius bit his lip as though he were contemplating this, though he knew the boy was fully capable of playing with no harm caused to himself. He reached out and gently prodded Harry's head. "Nothing?" he asked. The former Gryffindor shook his head. "I can't see how it would hurt," Lucius finally acceded, running his fingers gently through the boy's hair. He paused in thought before continuing.

"Now, I suppose, would be a good time to lay out your typical schedule for you, that way you'll remember it. Now is when I shower; you typically dress and eat with Draco." He held up a hand as Harry attempted to ask a question. "I don't eat breakfast because I have to Apparate straight to the Ministry for work." He didn't explain the magical terms, expecting that Harry would understand them since the boy had remembered Quidditch.

"Your mornings and afternoons, you are free to do whatever you wish." He either ignored or simply didn't notice Harry's confused expression at his word choice. "You typically spend the time with Draco, as far as you've told me. I believe recently you've been helping him practice for his Quidditch tryouts."

"Now, I get home at four-thirty, and I like for you to be waiting in my drawing room when I arrive. We spend the evenings together."

Harry's expression was relieved but still slightly confused. "I expected when you said I had 'responsibilities' that you meant that I had chores to do," he murmured.

Lucius emitted a quiet chuckle at the thought, though he'd intended for Harry to have it. "There are house-elves for that," he replied. "They respond to any of the silver bells in each room," he added as a side-thought. "I only meant that there are certain behaviours I have come to expect from you, because of your repetition of them."

"And do we never go out anywhere together?" Harry persisted, asking the other question that had bothered him about Lucius's explanation.

The man's expression turned apologetic. "Unfortunately, no," he replied, and he really did wish he could be seen in public with the boy, if only to gloat. "You may have realized the differences in our ages. That is because you were friends with Draco initially. When your abusive aunt and uncle nearly killed you, you ran away, coming here. You've lived here for nearly four and a half years now, though our relationship has only existed two."

"So then my parents are dead?" Harry asked quietly, his eyes lowered. He looked on the verge of tears, and Lucius gathered him into his arms.

"They were killed by an extremely powerful dark wizard when you were an infant," the blonde replied softly, cradling the boy gently against him. "Both he, and your aunt and uncle are the reason you are in hiding." He pressed his lips to Harry's temple. "There are extensive wards around the manor, though. You will never be found as long as you remain within."

Lucius's words were simultaneously reassuring and troubling. Part of Harry took comfort in the fact that he could rely on someone else to protect him, but the independent streak that had made him undeniably Gryffindor cried out at being restricted to a place by fear. He forced himself to keep in mind that he had lived this way for more than four years. It seemed that he had no other choice, and he relaxed into the blonde's arms, enjoying the strength he found there. Despite his blind courage, he couldn't deny the small part of him that desperately wanted to be protected, though because of his amnesia he had no idea from where this urge could have originated.

Lucius ran his fingers gently through Harry's hair, regarding the boy carefully. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly. Harry took a few moments to contemplate the question. Finally, he nodded. "Do you think you will remember everything I've told you?" the blonde continued.

"I think so, but I'll ask Draco to remind me, just in case I forget." Harry no longer even thought about his initial resistance to the type of obedience and devotion Lucius had implied that the green-eyed boy had practiced in the past.

The blonde was pleased with the way Harry seemed to be taking his story. Lucius had been told all about the boy's background, and figured there must have been something about his past that made him so susceptible to the suggestion that he was dependent upon Lucius for protection, regardless of the fact that Harry had forgotten everything. "I should get that shower now," he murmured gently.

Harry hesitated a moment before pressing a kiss to Lucius's cheek, his lips brushing the corner of the man's mouth as he pulled away. He wasn't sure what had behooved him to do so, but he couldn't deny that there existed the small, latent desire to please the blonde. Then he crawled from Lucius's lap, flushing slightly as he began picking through the drawers he'd been told were his last night.

Lucius watched the boy, a small smile on his face. Harry was going to take to this situation even better than he had expected. He got out of bed and stretched as the boy selected a pair of trousers and a dress shirt from the closet. The blonde scrutinized his choice. Yes, Harry was going to be a perfect fit.

~~~***~~~

The next few weeks, Lucius went about creating a relationship where there had been none. He finally had what he had always wanted, though he hadn't known that it was, and was still getting used to the idea. He finally had someone who depended upon him utterly and completely.

Without a memory, Harry could only believe what Lucius told him. With Draco to corroborate the blonde man's stories flawlessly, the former Gryffindor appeared to have no other choice, though indeed he showed no signs of wanting one, either. Harry had never even narrowed his eyes in defiance of any of Lucius's wishes, and since the morning he had been given his instructions, he had never deviated from them.

A small part of this obedience had been the expected fear; after all, Lucius was an imposing man, and Harry had seen the blonde mans fury when directed towards his son. However, the raven-haired boy had done nothing to merit even the most minor of scoldings, and this was primarily because of the respect in which he held his benefactor.

Of course, none of this had even occurred to Harry. Considering the situation, he couldn't help but be rather naïve about the whole thing. He was simply content spending every possible moment with the man who claimed to be his lover. The only thing that really confused Harry was the fact that, over the past weeks Lucius had done nothing aside from some rather innocent gestures to imply that there was any kind of relationship between them. Though he was grateful that the blonde had not tried to pressure him into anything he wasn't ready for, at the same time he couldn't help but wonder why the man had not tried to progress things even a little.

It was roughly three months after Harry's awakening at Malfoy Manor that these thoughts actually occurred to him. He sat at the huge mahogany dining room table chewing on some toast, completely lost in thought as he stared at one of the swirls in the espresso-coloured wood. A voice shattered his concentration. "Wha-?" he murmured, gazing across the table.

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you, Harry?" Draco asked, his expression a combination of amused an irritated.

Harry flushed. "No," he admitted. "Sorry, but I'm a little distracted."

"Then we're playing Quidditch, so I might actually beat you to the Snitch." His tone was surprisingly good-natured. After all the years of fighting the raven-haired boy, he'd finally realized they made fantastic friends. Besides, he was the one who played Quidditch professionally. The fact that the other boy was better no longer mattered to him.

"Fine," Harry chuckled, pushing his remaining toast away. "You're on."

Draco pushed away from the table, the glint of challenge alive in his eyes. He could hear the echoes of both their footsteps as he led the way through the familiar corridors. However, before they could reach the door that would lead outside, Draco veered into a darkened alcove, reaching behind him to seize Harry's collar and drag the green-eyed boy after him.

"I thought we were..." Harry trailed off as he realized he was pinned to the wall, the blonde's body pressed to his. "What's going on?" he asked quietly, squirming a bit to try to loosen the other boy's grip.

No good. Draco's grip tightened, and he pressed closer, their faces mere inches apart. "You must have forgotten about this as well," he murmured, his voice an octave lower and throatier than usual. Harry saw the tip of a pale pink tongue just before Draco ran it along his lower lip. "I thought it was time I reminded you," the blonde breathed.

The raven-haired boy shivered as a trickle of warmth spread through his body, pooling at his groin. He shook it away quickly as common sense kicked in. "But I wouldn't have," he objected, not as strongly as he would have liked. "Lucius would never forgive me."

"That's why he didn't know," Draco replied easily, a smirk spreading across his face. Slowly, his fingers began working their way beneath the other boy's shirt, massaging his abdomen suggestively.

Harry bit his lip fiercely, both to stifle a moan and to try to prevent his body from responding. "Even if what you say is true, I cannot continue that way. I no longer feel the same as I did. I could never betray him."

The blonde's countenance fell, and he removed his hand from beneath the other boy's shirt. "But you already have," he reminded him. He ran his fingers through Harry's hair as he gazed searchingly into verdant eyes.

"I can't anymore," the former Gryffindor replied softly. "You mean a lot to me; you're my best friend, but..." He hesitated, contemplating his words. "But Lucius is my world."

Draco gave Harry a faint smile. "I understand," he replied at length. "I think I always realized it couldn't last forever." He stepped back, giving the green-eyed boy his space. "I've got some things I need to think about; we'll play Quidditch tomorrow." After he turned and walked away, his face reverted into a larger, more cheerful smile, though it was still tinged with sadness. His father really had found someone worthwhile. He only hoped he could find someone half as devoted as Harry was to Lucius.

~~~***~~~

Harry was seated in a wingback chair when Lucius Apparated in that evening. The first thing that struck the blonde upon arrival was the rather nervous expression on the boy's face. "Is something bothering you, Harry?" he asked as the former Gryffindor rose from his seat and crossed the room to stand before him.

"Yes," Harry replied softly, gazing up into the man's silver eyes. He hesitated, not sure how to word the information he was about to divulge. He was absolutely terrified of Lucius's response, but at the same time he couldn't conceive of keeping the secret any longer than he already seemed to have. "I found out something today that I think you need to know." He paused again, shifting uneasily. "Draco told me that...before I developed amnesia, he and I were in a relationship." He lowered his eyes guiltily, trembling slightly with anxiety.

Outwardly, Lucius showed no reaction, scrutinizing Harry's behaviour carefully, trying to read the boy's thoughts. He knew that even if he hadn't told Draco to make the claim and it was actually true, the relationship would have occurred before he acquired Harry, and now the boy couldn't remember. He schooled his expression and tone of voice before he responded.

"Why are you telling me this?" he prompted shortly, his eyes narrowed and promising violence. As a point of fact, however, Lucius wasn't angry in the least. He knew Harry would not have come to him if the boy had acquiesced to Draco's ministrations. There was always the chance that the green-eyed boy had chosen Draco, yet Lucius was an excellent judge of intent, and was confident that the boy had refused. It was all just a test of loyalty, and Lucius was certain the boy would pass with flying colours.

"I've ended it," Harry murmured quietly. "I still felt guilty, though I can't even remember what happened. I felt like," he paused in thought, biting his lip nervously, "like I needed to be absolved." His eyes flickered up to meet Lucius's. "Can you forgive me?" he breathed.

Lucius's countenance was stern as he seemed to contemplate all the information he'd been given. "You say it hasn't continued since you hit your head?" he asked carefully.

"It hasn't."

"And it won't in the future?" the blonde pressed.

Harry gazed up into Lucius's eyes. "I'm yours," he whispered, taking a step closer to the man.

"Forgiven," Lucius murmured, wrapping his arms around the boy's waist and drawing him even closer. He ran the fingers of one hand through Harry's hair, his lips curving into a faint smile. "And forgotten," he added softly, before lowering his head to press a brief kiss to Harry's lips.

The raven-haired boy didn't know whether to be more surprised by the fact that Lucius had kissed him at all, or that the kiss had come so soon after his confession. He wasn't given much time to think about it, however, because Lucius's mouth was on his again, this time more insistently. He felt the man's tongue flickering at his lips, and they parted easily, a quiet moan drawn from his throat. He hadn't realized how much he craved physical contact until it was finally given. Lucius had not kissed him so deeply in the three months he could remember, but now, as the blonde's tongue caressed his own, he wished the man had.

Never breaking contact, Lucius began guiding them both backwards until his calves hit the chair Harry had previously been waiting in. The blonde lowered himself into it, pulling the boy into his lap. He had to suppress a moan at the feel of those young thighs straddling him. Lucius cradled Harry's face gently in both hands as they kissed.

A thrill flowed through the green-eyed boy as he inched closer to the man, heat pooling in his nether regions. His cheeks flushed faintly, but he didn't try to pull away as his body responded. Despite his slight embarrassment, he found that he didn't want to pull away. The sound of a throat clearing behind him startled him from the kiss. He heard Lucius groan, but didn't turn away from the man.

Lucius could hear the frantic squeak of a house-elf as it tried to push its way into the room. "Cinna told Mr. Lupin that Masters Lucius and Harry weren't seeing any visitors, but Mr. Lupin just forced his way in," it explained nervously, edging its way around Remus and into the room.

"It's fine," Lucius replied with an exasperated sigh, his hands moving down Harry's face to his hips. "Go back to preparing dinner." He raised an eyebrow at Remus as the house-elf closed the door. "If I can help you with something, Lupin, do tell." His lips curved into a smirk. "I'm rather busy at the moment."

Remus scowled at the sight he was presented with, though it hadn't been what he had expected to see. When the house-elf had tried to turn him away at the door of the manor, he'd honestly anticipated torture. This wasn't much better. "I ought to kill you..." he growled, his voice low and feral. "Sirius already would have."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion at the man's words, but Lucius gave a slight shake of his head, an indication not to ask questions. "Keep in mind your purpose," the blonde murmured carefully. "This," he shifted his hips slightly to show what he meant, "is none of your concern."

Remus bared his teeth, but he couldn't really object. Technically his only charge was to make sure that Harry wasn't being hurt or mistreated. At first he'd been pleased that Dumbledore had trusted him with such a responsibility. However, it just hurt to see Harry this way, submitting to a man that he knew the boy had despised. The fact that Harry seemed happy here just made the situation more unbearable for Remus. "Can I speak with you for a moment, Lucius?" he ground out. "In private?"

"Anything you have to say to me surely you can speak of in front of Harry," he replied, a smirk teasing his lips. He knew for a fact that that statement was false and that Remus had been forbidden to speak of certain topics, but the blonde was thoroughly enjoying the power he wielded over the other man.

So he wanted to play it that way? Remus's lip curled. This question was going to be treading on dangerous ground, but he'd already done so in the comment about Sirius. His only concern now was for Harry; he didn't care about any of the possible repercussions to himself. "Are you happy here, Harry?" he murmured quietly. "In this relationship?" His amber eyes danced as he saw Lucius's narrow.

Harry finally turned his upper body to regard the man, confusion written across his features. He didn't understand why Remus would ask such a thing. "Yes," he murmured. "I am. Lucius is my everything."

Remus winced at the statement, so obviously sincere and not at all coerced by the boy's "benefactor". He swallowed thickly. "Alright then," he murmured finally, his tone quiet and reserved, almost apologetic. "I'll no longer waste your time this day, then." He leveled eyes with Lucius. "Though I will be back in a month, and the next."

"Hardly a threat, Lupin," Lucius teased. "Perhaps next time you could let us know when you're coming, so that Harry and I will be sure not to be otherwise engaged when you arrive."

The other man's lip curled, but he didn't make a sound. Instead, he turned and left. He hardly approved of what was going on between Harry and Lucius, but he was in no position to dispute it. As long as Harry wasn't suffering, he supposed he could live with leaving the boy in blissful ignorance.

Harry turned back to Lucius once Remus had gone. "Who is Sirius?" he asked quietly, gazing deeply into the blonde's eyes.

Lucius sighed genuinely. "I hadn't wanted to tell you this, with the way you reacted about your parents. Sirius was your godfather. My sister-in-law killed him." His eyes glinted with pride as he looked at Harry, though the boy didn't recognize it. "She got what was coming to her." He had been there when Harry had killed Bellatrix; had relished the sight. The boy had wanted to cause pain that day for certain. He could still hear her screams upon feeling the force of Harry's successfully cast Cruciatus curse. He paused in thought to regard Harry again. "Sirius would not have approved of our relationship were he alive when it began."

"Oh," Harry responded quietly. While he found this information important, his own feelings outweighed it. He inched forward in Lucius's lap until their chests touched. He couldn't say he didn't care, but he found himself not overly concerned with the opinions of a man he couldn't even remember. Besides, he must have known Sirius's wishes before he'd lost his memory; it hadn't been overly significant then.

Lucius seemed to understand, because the man's arms encircled him more tightly as he curled his own arms around the blonde's neck. Without even a moment's hesitation, he leaned in to kiss those pale lips, the gesture soft but vaguely hungry. Harry pulled away briefly, only enough to speak, and when he did, their lips brushed faintly. "Take me, Lucius," he whispered. "I need you to claim me."

Lucius didn't even try to suppress the moan that sounded from his lips at the complete, shameless surrender that the boy had just made. "Not here," he breathed, his lips ghosting over the boy's face and neck lightly. "In our bed, this time."

Harry nodded faintly, acquiescing easily to the man's request and without question. He pressed another hungry kiss to his lover's mouth, though he immediately relinquished control when Lucius's tongue parted his lips. Then, with Lucius guiding him, he rose from the chair and, their fingers intertwined, they headed upstairs.

~Fin.