Rating:: PG-13
House:: Astronomy Tower
Characters:: Lucius Malfoy Remus Lupin
Genres:: Slash
Era:: Multiple Eras
Spoilers:: Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:: Published: 04/07/2003

Updated: 05/07/2003

Words: 13,178

Chapters: 5

Hits: 2,793

Addictive Conflict

Ryou

Story Summary:: It's 1975 - MWPP are in Fourth Year, while Lucius Malfoy is in Seventh.``This fic explores their year at school, focusing on Remus and Lucius, and the emotions that develop between them.``Slash in later chapters.

Chapter 05

Chapter Summary:: 1975 - MWPP are in their Fourth Year, and Lucius Malfoy's in his Seventh. Focusing on Remus and Lucius; an unlikely friendship arises. How far are they willing to trust each other? Slash in later chapters.

Posted:: 05/07/2003

Hits:: 565

Author's Note:: Thanks to Lasair for help with the Latin. :)

The next day passed achingly slowly for Remus, his lessons seeming to drag on even more than usual. He was mildly diverted in Transfiguration when Professor McGonagall explained the principals of the Animagus transformation in some detail -- as although he himself had no desire to become an Animagus, he still found the process as fascinating as he had done when he and the others first began researching it back in their Second year. Despite this, he couldn't help but be distracted by the thought of what he was going to be doing -- or even just witnessing -- that evening. Remus still felt mildly uncomfortable with the idea, as he was under no illusions about what would happen to them if they were caught; the consequences that his normal practical jokes resulted in would be nothing compared to this.

He was not, however, deterred. He continued to brush off Sirius' anti-Slytherin remarks, but didn't try and refute or argue with anything he said anymore, as Sirius was clearly not going to be persuaded that there was even one half-decent Slytherin in the school.

"Malicious, manipulative bastards, all of them," he would say, scowling the way he always did when Slytherins were mentioned.

At long last the time came for dinner, but Remus found the thought of food strangely unappetising. An unpleasant mix of dread and anticipation made his stomach feel unsettled, and he could feel Lucius Malfoy's gaze burning into him from the table across the far side of the hall. After poking at his rice and carrots for a while disinterestedly, he felt James, who was sitting to his left, nudge him in the side.

"Hey, Remus... are you feeling all right?" his brow was furrowed in concern, and he pushed up his glasses a little as they slipped.

Remus smiled wanly at him, and fiddled with a strand of hair nervously, "I... yes, I'm fine, James," and as though trying to prove his point he scooped up some rice and chewed on it slowly, ignoring the protestations from his stomach. His efforts were only rewarded with a skeptical narrowing of the eyes, and so it was with a resigned sigh that he sat back and pushed his plate away from him, smiling sheepishly. "Alright, James...I...I just don't feel so well."

"Hm? What's wrong?" His confession had caught Sirius' attention, and so now he was faced with two enquiring faces. Remus sighed once more, and ran a hand through his hair. Though he was always glad that he had managed to make such good friends, their constant (and in his view, unnecessary) concern did grate on his nerves after a while.

"Nothing important," he said carefully, determined not to sound irritated, "I'm just not very hungry. Feel a bit ill, you know..." Seeing the expressions this evoked on his friends' faces, he hastened onwards, "but nothing serious, really! You don't need to worry, stop it..." he waved a hand dismissively and looked away, staring at the intricate wood grain of the table. James and Sirius finally seemed to let the subject drop, but with obvious reluctance. It was probably, Remus thought bitterly, only the fact that there was still a good fortnight until the next full moon that their concerns were assuaged; any time he was ill they automatically assumed it must have something to do with his Lycanthropy, despite the fact that this was rarely so. He was relieved that his friends knew about his...condition, and accepted him for it, but it still irked him that they could sometimes be a little too fixated upon it.

After several minutes of keeping his attention focused on tugging at a loose thread in his worn robes, Remus finally raised his head again and let his gaze wander around the hall; inevitably ending up at the Slytherin table. But Lucius was not watching him this time. Instead, he seemed to be chatting animatedly with Snape, who was sitting to his left, and gesturing slightly as though demonstrating something. Remus felt his stomach lurch slightly as Lucius appeared to stop mid-sentence, and turned to regard him calmly, a small smirk playing upon his lips. Feeling his face heat up inexplicably, Remus shifted uncomfortably and couldn't help but look away -- especially as he noticed the dirty look Snape was now throwing him.

The remainder of dinner was an uneventful affair; Remus kept quietly to himself, ignoring the inquisitive looks Gryffindors would occasionally direct at him and resolutely trying to will away the throbbing ache which was grasping his mind.

Eventually, when dessert was nearly over, and the students were settling back to merely chatter amicably among themselves, Remus could no longer stand just sitting still in his self-ordained silence.

"...I have to go," he alerted his friends in a shaking voice, and refused to meet their ever-concerned eyes. "I...I have to use the library. Extra Arithmancy work that Linsera gave me -- needs research."

And with that he near fled the hall, hearing his own footsteps echo starkly in the silence of the corridor outside. He tiredly leant back against one of the cold stone walls in relief, the persistent heated flush tingeing his cheeks finally dying down. The chill atmosphere lapped at his skin, and he inhaled deeply, shaking his head to try and clarify his thoughts before finally moving away from the wall.

Quiet footsteps -- subtle footsteps -- were approaching him from behind. Remus didn't move; if the person was of no consequence then they would leave him be. But no -- a strong hand came up and encircled his left upper arm, and Remus didn't need to ask who it was.

"Lucius."

"You looked ill at dinner, Remus." The oft-calm voice sounded neither concerned nor curious, merely matter-of-fact. Remus was oddly glad for this, his chest tightening as Lucius began to lead him along, in the direction of the dungeons.

"I'm -- not. I haven't been myself today." Eyes downcast, he could feel Lucius' piercing blue eyes sweeping over his tired face.

"And why is that?" It was strange, Remus thought, but there was something about Lucius' questions that compelled him to answer. Perhaps it was the fact that Lucius never seemed like he cared what the answer would be -- or that he cared if you even answered the question at all. It was a comfort, in a way; the lack of expectations.

Yet he himself had expectations of Lucius this evening. Hypocritical? Maybe. But he wasn't feeling particularly noble at the moment.

"I'm...not exactly sure." For the first time since Lucius had joined him, Remus turned and glanced up at the Seventh year, his expression slightly pained. "Today. I was...preoccupied. Thinking about this evening." Lucius remained impassive, though his grip on Remus' arm increased fractionally.

"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts..." Remus shook his head hurriedly, and was rewarded with one of Lucius' amused smirks.

"Oh, no! It's not that. It's just...since you said you would -- you know, show me -- that is, I --" he broke off, struggling for words, and frowning at his inability to express what he wanted to say.

"The thought of it consumed you..." Lucius turned to him, face shadowed and now sombre. "Remus. I don't presume to tell you what to do, but you shouldn't think on it so much. It's only a tool; not a way of life." Remus suddenly felt rather light-headed, and slightly surprised by this apparent character revelation of Lucius'.

"And how many others would agree with this view of yours?" he swayed a little, feeling Lucius' other arm dart downwards and support him around the waist.

Lucius looked reluctant for a moment, then seemingly ignored the question, and asked, "How much have you had to eat today, Remus?"

Opening his mouth and trying to verbalise an answer proved more difficult than he had anticipated. They had just about reached the steps to the dungeon, and Remus felt the world becoming more distant, his vision blurring as darkness spidered across his sight and air rushed heavily past his face. In some remote part of his mind he noted that he had been caught before he had hit the hard floor, and was now being carried awkwardly. His face was pressed to soft fabric, and he inhaled some kind of expensive flowery scent as the sensations pervaded his stupor.

How long he lay in this half-conscious state he had no idea; time seemed to drag immeasurably, and yet before he knew it he was being laid down on an uncomfortable, cold bed.

"Enervate." The word sliced through his grogginess, forcing him to immediately awaken. He slowly opened his eyes, the soft candlelight which illuminated the room enabling him to do so reasonably painlessly. Lucius was standing over him with his wand in hand, peering down at him and holding a vial containing a dark, suspicious looking substance.

"Ugh..." he struggled into a sitting position, wincing as his head protested to the movement violently. "Sorry..." for once he couldn't bring himself to smile, and glanced down ashamedly at the floor. "I'm sorry...it was stupid of me, I know..."

But the next moment his head shot back up in shock as he felt Lucius' hand on his face, his eyes widening as Lucius forced his mouth open and stuck two fingers in.

"Wha --?" he nearly choked as his tongue was pressed down, and the vial he had noticed Lucius holding the moment before was quickly uncorked and tipped down his throat. The thick liquid which trickled over his tongue was so foul tasting that had it not been for Lucius' intrusive fingers, it was likely that Remus would not have kept it down at all. He gagged slightly and rubbed his now sore throat gingerly with his hand, and Lucius sat back on the bed beside him and watched silently.

"What was that for?" Remus croaked, still feeling an unpleasant urge to retch as the aftertaste of the potion lingered.

"It's a..." Lucius looked thoughtful for a moment, "well...I don't know exactly, but I suppose it's similar to a strengthening potion of sorts." Remus looked dubious as he considered this, but seemed to relax as the effects of the foreign substance spread throughout his body.

"Oh -- thanks, then..." A smile crept gingerly onto his face once more, his dizziness fading and his strength returning. A vague remnant of the headache still lingered, however.

"Remus." Lucius' entire manner suddenly changed, becoming authoritative as he sat looking at the other boy seriously. "You're -- interested -- in the Dark Arts, aren't you." Remus shifted uncomfortably and met Lucius' eyes almost timidly; some part of him still hating that he had admitted it in the first place.

"Y-yes, I --"

"Good." He was cut off by Lucius' brisk and final tone, as though they had just concluded some sort of business transaction.

'As though you've sold your soul to the devil,'

one part of his mind taunted him. 'No,' another part remarked, 'you've just left your innocence in the hands of Lucius Malfoy; not going to last long there, is it?'

"And you are a pure blood, aren't you?" Ignoring the overly rational parts of his mind, Remus just stared for a moment.

"What? Oh, well yes...I suppose so." Lucius looked visibly relieved, and studied Remus speculatively for a moment as though judging his potential.

"...And you do realise that I'd most likely think less of you if you weren't?" Remus' face fell slightly; he should have known it was too much to expect for Lucius to be very different from the usual Slytherin.

"Yes, I know that." Subdued, he reached up and rubbed the side of his nose morosely. "Lucius..."

"Do you know why Muggle-born wizards and half bloods are a danger to us?" Eyes flashing, Lucius spoke in an almost strained way, as though holding himself back from a full rant.

'He really believes it...'

Remus thought, 'and I probably can't convince him otherwise.'

"But whatever your reasoning, do you really think they deserve death, Lucius?" He spoke, of course, in referral to the murders and disappearances which had been occurring lately, still widely discussed among the students. Lucius opened his mouth as though to reply, but then stopped and became sullen.

"...I never said that."

"So you don't agree with what's going on?" Remus shot back, wondering if maybe, maybe Lucius could be persuaded...

"I never said that either."

His heart fell. "I see."

"Do you?" A hint of derision coloured his voice, and then he started steadfastly at Remus. "Just because they might not deserve to die, it doesn't mean they shouldn't -- if there's no other way."

"You're talking about killing people for something they have no control over!" Remus' voice cracked slightly at the end, still not quite able to comprehend the logic of the other's reasoning.

"They're a danger to us, Remus! Do you know what would happen if Muggles discovered we exist?" Biting his lip, Remus looked away.

"But still --"

"They'd come after us. You know they would. Muggles always fear the unknown, and that's just what we'd be to them. And how would they find out? How else -- from Muggle born wizards and half-bloods who have more loyalty to Muggles than to our kind." He spoke bitterly, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his arms. "I never told you how my Mother died, did I."

Remus remained silent, watching as a strange emotion flickered in his eyes.

"She was stabbed. Stabbed eight times in the throat and chest by a Muggle who was too ignorant to understand what he was seeing. It was too late to save her by the time -- by the time I found her. She shouldn't have been doing magic where Muggles could see, I know that. But it still doesn't change the fact that Muggles are inherently vicious. It would being doing everyone a favour if our two worlds were completely segregated."

More silence. Remus sat torn; distressed by what had happened to Lucius' Mother, but still refusing to condone what Lucius saw as 'necessary'.

"Oh, Lucius..."

"I know a man. A leader." Lucius interrupted him, reckless in his revisited grief. He wanted Remus to join them -- someone who wouldn't be obsessed with murder and torture and killing Muggles like them rest of them, but who would be more like himself; agreeing with the aims, but focusing more on rising to power. Remus seemed like he could be tempted by Dark power...didn't he? He wanted an ally. He didn't want to know another killer.

Remus shook his head. He knew what Lucius was trying to do, and he guessed who it was that Lucius was talking about. "No, please...don't."

Lucius regarded him indecisively. If he stopped now, he knew Remus wouldn't feel obligated to say anything to anyone else about it. If he continued, though, he might have a chance to persuade Remus...

"...All right. I'm sorry. Let's get back to why you came here, shall we?" Remus looked relieved and nodded, following Lucius' lead as he got up from the bed and watched him move over to the other side of the room and rummage around in a drawer. "Here..." Advancing back across the dimly lit room, Lucius held out a small object and dropped it casually into Remus' hand.

"What is it?" The younger boy inspected it carefully; a small, rounded oval shape, about three centimetres long and one centimetre thick, apparently made of some kind of metal -- pewter, Remus suspected. It was completely smooth and unblemished.

"It's a protection Rune." Lucius said offhandedly, "I don't need it anymore...but it's advisable to hold one when you first start to meddle with the Dark Arts. It absorbs any backlashes of uncontrolled magic, and helps prevent spells backfiring. The engraved glyph isn't usually visible; it only appears when in use." He gave Lupin a thin smile. "You can have it."

"Oh!" Remus held it up and watched it shine in the candlelight. "Thank you for this, Lucius," he said sincerely, "I...I know that...some of our -- views -- are different, but I'm still grateful to you for doing this; for helping me. I hope that -- that certain things -- don't mean that we can't be friends." Previously he had been somewhat dubious about Lucius' apparent desire for friendship, but with all the Seventh year had told him, he didn't feel it was right to doubt him anymore. By revealing himself to be in contact with him, Lucius had put himself at great risk -- and Remus didn't have it in him to betray that trust. Especially since...Lucius didn't seem to be entirely comfortable with all the killing that was going on. Remus still had hope for him.

Lucius coloured slightly at Remus' words, and just muttered,” It’s fine." Drawing out his wand, he quickly cast the usual blanketing spell along with a silencing charm on the room, and then looked up and smiled at Remus in an almost predatory manner. The Fourth year felt a slight shiver run down his spine, and glanced away awkwardly.

"So... what will we be doing?" Remus hugged his arms around himself almost apprehensively, and watched as Lucius' smile spread. He noticed how the older boy seemed to have become more alive, vibrant -- perhaps the thrill of practicing forbidden magic was more intoxicating than he had previously expected.

"I thought we could start you off with a simple little incantation -- simple, but very effective." Lucius laughed softly, almost delightedly. "Right. First, hold the Rune in your left hand --"

"That's my wand hand," Remus interrupted, eyes wide, "and I didn't think you were going to make me try something straight away!"

"Huh. I should say so; wouldn't be much fun otherwise, now would it? All right --" he ignored the slightly panicked look on Remus' face and continued. "-- hold the Rune in your right hand, tightly. Don't use your wand yet, you just need to practice the incantation for a while until you get it right."

"W-what are you going to make me do?"

"Oh, just something I discovered the other week... I recall Severus finding it particularly amusing," he gave a wry smile, "but I don't really expect you to... hey--" Lucius paused in thought for a moment, his face lighting up unexpectedly, "-- pain. Do you mind it?" Remus squinted at him suspiciously, not really liking where Lucius' train of thought was obviously heading. However, he had developed rather a strong disregard for pain to a certain extent, due to his agonising monthly transformations. Well, he could always say no to whatever Lucius was going to come up with.

"...I can bear a reasonable amount. Um...why?" Lucius positively beamed at him -- a strangely foreign expression on the Prefect's usually calm face.

"It's just -- well, the spell would be so much more interesting if someone were to cast it on themselves. There'll be no damage, of course," he added hastily, seeing Remus' horrified expression, "and you can cancel it and make it stop whenever you want. See, it's partly a visual spell -- except that it's only visible to the victim. Works on a psychological level mostly, you know. There's also a little pain -- otherwise what kind of decent spell would it be? -- but," he concluded, "it doesn't really do you any damage, so there'd be no harm in trying..." Watching Remus carefully, Lucius saw him considering it for a moment.

Remus' thoughtful expression gradually grew into one of suspicion. "Wait -- if it's so harmless, then why haven't you done it?"

"Oh, I have," Lucius carelessly waved off Remus' half-glare, "it's just, well... I stopped after about a second -- pain isn't really my thing. And it wasn't active long enough for me to see the effects." He sounded almost wistful, and his eyes snapped back up to fix themselves upon Remus. "So you see, you should do it."

"Hmm." Remus still sounded skeptical. "You say I can stop it whenever I want? There's no real danger?"

"Oh, absolutely." Lucius smiled beatifically.

"What's the incantation, then?" Determination gripped his voice, his brow furrowed.

"Error carnis ardentis," he saw Remus blanch, and stiffen almost imperceptibly.

"But -- doesn't that mean --"

Lucius interrupted him, eyes sparkling. "Indeed; The Illusion of Burning Flesh."