Chapter Text
Lucius stared. The man in his bed lay prone, as silent in his sleep as he was awake. He’d snuck him in through the kitchen’s entrance late last night. This was the third time. The simple act of rebellion, instigated by Rabastan on Lucius’ twenty-fourth birthday, seemed like a good idea after seven straight snifters of Ogden’s Finest, until the young man in his bed had turned up. Ever since school, Lucius knew never to trust Rabastan’s ideas. Everyone knew he was a few sickles short of a galleon when off his arse. He still didn’t know the young man’s name. The only thing he did know, the only thing he needed to know, was that the young man was very good at his job. He seemed too young to have been doing it enough to get so much experience, but Lucius wasn’t one to judge on people’s professions, especially when they were so useful. The trees by his bedroom in the east wing moved outside, swaying in the morning breeze, breaking the spears of bright sunlight that shone through. The shadows made by the leaves ran across the man’s strong back like water, back and forth. It was... calming in a way. Lucius had no idea how long he’d been sitting there staring. It was just that, for some reason, the replete and deeply relaxed form in front of him, despite being in such an alien environment, was so immersed in the task of sleeping, it was incredible. The man lay on his stomach, his arms stretched up beside his head and hands buried under the pillow beneath. His hair, long enough to grasp and pull, was in disarray and fell across his face hiding his eyes, the colour of which Lucius had never seen before. One leg lay buried beneath the twisted white sheets while the other was hiked high enough to escape them and the comforter that had been kicked to the bottom edge.
The trust the man exhibited was astounding. Any Slytherin worth their salt would have been facing him with a wand at least a half hour ago. He had him gauged as a Hufflepuff, or maybe a Gryffindor. Lucius cocked his head to the side as he studied him. When he’d first shown up, Lucius had actually had to ask him how old he was, after overcoming the initial awkwardness a business deal like theirs encompassed. A rather smart, ‘I apparated here with your co-ordinates’, was his answer. When Lucius remained silent, he received a cocked eyebrow and a curt, ‘We can wait for the owl from the Improper Use of Magic Office – that will never come – if you want. It’s your money.’
Hmm, perhaps a Ravenclaw, then.
A deep sigh alerted him the brunet was waking up. Slow movement evolved to all out stretching and Lucius watched the long lines of the man’s hard body exposed to him in the sunlight. He used it well the night before, until the droning sounds of lectures and the monotonous tones in the business meetings he’d been in all day – that threatened to make him lobotomise himself with the cane his father continuously carted around – were drowned out by sighs and pleading whispers. They’d become music to his ears and, as he sank into the man repeatedly, the pressures of the day had just faded into the background. The brunet’s head shifted and a sleepy moan softly filled his room. Eyelids tightened before they opened, showcasing a spectacular set of amber irises Lucius couldn’t believe was natural. He could tell when they finally focused on the room he was in, on the blond man in the chair watching him.
“Creepy, but not the worst I’ve seen.” The voice was laced with sleep. Lucius ignored the words. Languidly, the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor mix sat up, yawned and looked around Lucius’ room. His eyes falling on his clothes, he scooted to the edge of the king size bed and scooped them up. “Can I use your bathroom?” he asked, but it was evident in his tone he wasn’t too bothered with how Lucius would answer. When Lucius nodded, he walked across the room into Lucius’ bathroom, shutting the door behind him. As the latch bolt clicked into the slide plate, the relaxed, calm feeling began to edge away. Lucius stood and walked to his wardrobe. Today was Tuesday. He had to go to the bank with his father today to check on the Malfoy family investments. It was the main method of ensuring self-preservation, a signature trait of any Slytherin, of any Malfoy. He’d been receiving tuition on the contents of the vaults since he was thirteen, now he had to learn the strategies if he was to take over the leadership role. After all, as his father often said, ‘Being a Malfoy is not only an honour, but a privilege. It is not a right.’ If he wanted to keep everything the name gave him, he had to earn it. He had to know his place, he had to understand his role, and he had to look the part.
Lucius looked in the floor-length mirror attached to his wardrobe and rolled his eyes. The length of his hair had been a major issue, it being the mark of the figurehead of the family. He’d known his father, Abraxas, to have long hair since before he could remember. A lot of older men had long hair. Lucius, however, did not consider himself to be old by any standard. Besides, wizards lived for at least a century, what was the point of growing it now? He hated it, especially at the length it was now, too long to be styled, too short to be pulled back. It was his mother, in the end, who convinced him to let it go. It was just hair. In secret, after his father had left the room, she’d told him he could just chop it off when the man died and that would be that. The comment had her desired effect and made him smile, which was something. He sighed, letting it go. The argument was not worth it and his father was difficult enough to deal with, without Lucius starting something unnecessary. The day at the bank and the lawyer’s office was going to be bad enough. He didn’t even want to think about the Ministry gathering tomorrow evening. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Opening them, he pulled the first door of his wardrobe open and selected the first set of black formal robes he could see, laying them out on his bed. The rumpled sheets drew his attention, pulling to mind the man in his bathroom. His eyes drifted across his room to the mahogany door. Relaxation was something he could do with right now, a way to get rid of the stress and feel somewhat sane for the rest of the day. As if called, the young man opened his bathroom door and stepped out, looking for the world as if he’d just arrived.
Self preservation was a funny thing. As long as you kept your head above water – and with some extra galleons, the rest of your body too – all was well for the Malfoys. Watching the young man he still didn’t know the name of, he wondered what his father would think of his methods.
The kitchen was empty as far as he could see. He didn’t come in here often but it was the only place that had a fireplace at the other end, was far away from his father and close to the east wing staircase. He often used it to sneak his friends in and out during summer months when he was still in school. He walked to the other end with his company following behind. He wondered where the house elves were, since the kitchen was completely empty but it was already seven in the morning. Then, he found out why.
“Good morning, Luc,” he heard behind him. The lightly French-accented voice made him freeze. He could see the knowing smile with his back turned. He spun around slowly and looked over his escort’s shoulder, who he noticed had also turned at the voice. He walked around him and stood between them both.
“Good morning, Mother,” he said and helped her with her handful as she walked out of the pantry, followed by a group of house elves.
Sabine Duval had married Abraxas at twenty, her parents very happy to give away their free spirited daughter to a man who had little to no spirit at all. Their years of marriage had done nothing to temper her easy going ways, nor her openly expressed love for her two favourite men. She wore a thin silk dressing robe over her nightgown. She’d just recently woken up, her eyes a little laced with sleep and her wavy blonde hair undone, hanging loose around her shoulders. She eyed her son carefully and then the man behind him. Tired she may have been, but she was not blind. “You are having visitors? This early? England has barely awoken, Luc.” She rested her hip against the counter as the elves busied themselves with her breakfast. She gave him a cheeky grin. “Or is he now leaving?” She swept her long blonde hair over her shoulder and placed her hand on her hip.
“And that is my cue to leave,” said the man behind him. Lucius half turned and had to lean back when the young man reached forward with his hand. “It was lovely meeting you, Mrs Malfoy.”
Sabine looked down at his hand and then up to her son. “I do not know where you hands have been, young man.”
He smiled and Lucius dreaded what would come out of his mouth. “Oh, believe me, you’ve touched them all before.”
Sabine’s eyes widened scandalously before a broad grin lit up her face. She took his hand and once more looked up at her son. “I like him.” She gave him a cheeky smile. “Please, call me Sabine.”
“Mother,” Lucius inserted, ready for the man to leave now.
“And you are?” she continued as if she didn’t hear him.
The brunet smiled again. “I am not important. It was lovely to meet you, Sabine.” He gave Lucius a nod, let go of Sabine’s hand and walked to the fireplace. In a flash of green flame and a token, “The Leaky Cauldron,” he was gone. A feeling similar to that upstairs overcame Lucius as soon as the brunet disappeared. He could feel his shoulders fall without his permission.
“Oh my goodness.”
Lucius turned to his mother, his eyes narrowed, but she simply stared at him with her hand over her chest. A plated breakfast and cup of coffee sat next to each of them where they rested. There wasn’t an elf in sight. “That was not funny.”
She was relentless in her laughter and gave him a playful push on his shoulder. He hardly felt it. She was such a small thing, his mother, but delightful nonetheless. He hoped to find someone like her one day. She made herself comfortable, knowing her son well enough to know that if she let this be, she would never be able to bring it up again and this was not a conversation for outside of the room. “Oh, don’t be that way. You’re like your father, no sense of humour.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Does he live at that pub?” she asked innocently, her light eyes wide.
He rolled his eyes. “You are impossible, Mother.” He picked up his own cup of coffee and inhaled it deeply before he drank.
She gave him a cheeky grin and cupped his face with her hands. “And you are very much my son.” She laughed her light tinkling laughter, which made him smile, even if she was making fun of the situation.
When she let go and moved on to her toast, he managed to ask, “Will you tell Father?”
She stared at him, as if contemplating. “Your father. He is an uptight fellow, no?” She smiled at his expression. “He does not have the appropriate sense of humour we do to find this funny.” She shook her head making her decision. “No. I do not think I will share this joke with him. He would not get it.” She leaned forward, an eyebrow cocked. “I will ask where you found such a man. A fine specimen. Those eyes! My goodness.” She took another sip of coffee as if to steady herself and placed a hand on his left forearm. “You must tell me, are they real?”
As Remus crossed the boundary of The Leaky Cauldron into Diagon Alley, he breathed out a sigh and wandered up the Alley towards Ambrosia cafe. It was one of the few places open at this time of the day. Tea. I need tea. Nearly every ‘morning after’, he came to this cafe for their tea. He didn’t know what they put into it, but it soothed him in ways he couldn’t describe. Walking in, he greeted Heather Fairweather behind the counter and asked for his usual: a cup of Earl Grey and a strawberry jam scone with clotted cream. She smiled at him as she went to round up his order. Remus waited at the counter. Leaning forward, he put his head in his palm and looked around. The cafe was empty so far. Usually the only folk who would come in at this time would be other store owners – out to get some breakfast before they opened, and people like him who worked his hours. But it was Tuesday and, for some reason, there was always bad business on a Monday night. He'd almost been ready to go home, but Malfoy had turned up out of the blue and he knew what to expect from him at least. He’d initially been a 'birthday present' to the blond. Lestrange did that often to the Alleywalkers on Knockturn. Remus had made sure to ask Lestrange who he was a present for. He'd heard the stories and would never go to his brother. Never.
He couldn’t wait to get home and change, but first.... He sat at his usual table and took his first sip. Oh, yes. He practically melted into the seat. Shutting his eyes, he finally allowed himself to relax, since he’d woken up earlier to Lucius Malfoy watching him sleep. Strange man.
The other chair at his table scraping against the floor made him jump. He opened his eyes to see Sirius sitting down opposite him. He stared and Sirius stared back. He pinched himself and then stared some more. He wasn't hallucinating. “You’re awake.”
Sirius grinned. “I am.”
Remus narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You’re awake and outside. Why?”
Sirius mimicked him. “Why are you?”
Remus sat up straight. “That’s none of your business, Padfoot.”
Sirius spread his arms wide, giving him a devastating smile. “Then I invoke the ancient code of ditto.”
Sirius had always been a good looking man. In school he was the token bad boy. The girls swooned, the boys envied and he’d chosen Remus as his friend out of all the people he could have befriended in his stead. It was a good thing he’d never been in love with the guy. That would have been a disaster in the making. He was a good friend, though, if a bit pretentious. Sirius stole a bit of the clotted cream from his scone. That stuff was expensive, Remus batted his hand away. “We went out last night,” Sirius said after stuffing his finger in his mouth to lick off the cream. “I fire-called your house, but your mum said you were out.” Remus had left him late Monday afternoon to 'go home', when he’d really ‘gone to work’. He still felt a little dirty after standing on Knockturn for so long. “...by the end of the night I was far too sloshed to apparate home, so I woke up at The Cauldron.” Remus realised he’d just missed a large portion of what Sirius had said. “I was coming downstairs when I saw you come out the floo. I called you, but you didn’t hear me." He shrugged. "So I followed you here after I settled my bill and had a good healthy dose of Anti-Veisalgia, of course.”
Remus nodded belatedly. “Of course.” Sirius ducked his hand down to steal an entire scone this time. “Hey! No touching, mine.” Remus glared and pulled his plate closer.
Sirius tsked, as if Remus had just spoiled his fun. “Alright,” he said stroppily and turned with a bright smile. “Heather! Sweetheart! I’m starving!” He held his stomach, miming stomach pains that only the truly famished could feel.
Heather rolled her eyes, but smiled fondly at him anyway. “I’ll be right there, Sirius.” Remus simply rolled his eyes. Sirius was still staring at her. When Remus looked over, she was bending over to get a roll off the bottom shelf.
Remus sighed, frustrated. “Leave her alone, Sirius.” He took a bite of his scone. Mmm, heavenly.
“Shh,” Sirius sounded, cutting him off. He put up a finger to silence him, in case his single syllable didn’t do the job. He continued to stare. “I’m taking in her assets.” With his other hand, he tapped his temple. “Storing them in my wank bank.”
Remus coughed, his tea going down the wrong hole. “I’m sorry, your what?” he asked. It was such an unexpected thing to say, he didn’t even swallow his piece of scone before he spoke. Sirius, apparently done with his ‘deposit’, shook his head for Remus to disregard it and finally stole a scone. “You missed a big night last night, Moony. We may not forgive you.” The Black rebel ignored Remus’ glare. “Even Peter was there and you know how scarce he is these days.” Shaking his head at Sirius’ antics, Remus let it go and nodded absently. Peter had been disappearing a lot these days. “James finally did it and proposed to Lily.”
His amber eyes snapped to Sirius. “What?” Sirius finished the last of his stolen scone.
“I didn’t say that to get a reaction. It’s true. He just blurted it out as she sat down next to him.” Heather brought him over his roll with scrambled eggs and a large mug of tea. He too had a ‘usual’, since Remus had first brought him there. “He had the ring and everything, but I don’t think he planned it for right then.” He took a bite of his breakfast sandwich and put up a hand to cover his mouth. “The ring was gorgeous, though.”
Remus looked out the window to the slowly filling Alley outside. He’d helped James pick the ring. It was so strange, walking into a jewellery shop and knowing money wasn’t an option. Remus had to be careful; it was a heady experience he’d love to repeat. In the end, the idiot had settled on his family rings. All that work for nothing. How horrible to be there when he chose it, but not when he used it. Their night sounded like a good time. His mind went to his own night and he cocked his head in thought, almost shamed when his mind pointed out that his night may just have been better. “Did she say yes?” Sirius gave him a look. Remus nodded. Of course she did, it was Lily.
Sirius washed down his bite with a gulp of tea. “I’m going over to his place after. You wanna come with?”
Remus frowned at Sirius’ words. First ‘wank bank’ and now this? “You’ve been dating muggles again, haven’t you?” He always took on some of their language when he did. Sirius shrugged and gave him a lewd grin. Remus shook his head fondly at his friend. “Yeah, sure,” he answered and let his gaze wander to the window.
Sirius dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. He frowned. “You okay?” he asked.
Remus tilted his head. Was he? “Yeah, of course,” he answered anyway and put down his cup.
Sirius’ eyes bore into him. Idiot and bad boy to the masses he could be, but he was still a Black, no matter how the salt shook. His eyes narrowed. “You don’t look it.”
“I don’t? Must not have got a lot of sleep.” He hadn’t, either. Malfoy, apparently, had a lot of stamina. If he’d known what he was getting himself into when that Rabastan Lestrange had come up to him, he may have turned him down. But, he thought to himself as he felt the weight of the bag in his pocket. I need the money.
“Is that all you’re eating for breakfast,” Sirius’ said, interrupting his thoughts. He shook his head at Remus. “No way. Heather, my lovely!” Sirius got up and went to the counter, heedless of Remus’ calls. He shook his head. Sirius was very giving, even if his friends weren’t the receiving type. Since he’d been given his inheritance by his Uncle Alphard, he’d spoiled the lot of them when he could, especially Remus, since he rarely had anything to his name. One day, Sirius’ character would get him in trouble.
Abraxas Malfoy was truly a sound businessman. Lucius would often watch him in awe when he was a teenager. It amazed him that his father could command these men's attention so readily, so easily and get most, if not all, of what he set out to receive in a deal. He had seen it happen so many times and that was both a blessing and a curse. He’d learned the best ways to approach a business deal from Abraxas; what to mention, what not to mention, and what to keep to himself until there was no other choice. Abraxas was good at what he did, Lucius would never question it, and was continuously grateful of his business prowess because, without it, Lucius would stand to inherit next to nothing, especially with his mother’s spending habits. He watched a piercing set of dark brown eyes rise from the parchment to lock with the goblin across from him. “What about the Brenhach accounts, the investments I made last quarter, are there any returns?”
On the other hand, Lucius had seen these meetings so many times.
Boredom was now a constant state of being. He was not truly required to be there, but his father made him come to each one to gain the maximum of experience. He often said, ‘No two meetings are the same. At any time, it could go to Azkaban.’ But Lucius had never seen such a meeting and, with his father’s reputation, it wasn’t likely he would. It had been the same last month, though his mind had been preoccupied then by the man he’d had to secret out of the manor. It had certainly kept his mind entertained then. However, if he wasn’t with his father, he would, most likely, be dragged out shopping with his mother. That fate was something just as bad, if not worse.
The Malfoy vaults were handled by Gornuk, one of the Gringotts goblins. He sat in what Lucius could only describe as an ornate ‘high chair’. Abraxas often told him that goblins were frightfully imperious and hated being seen as inferior in any way. Lucius thought of the high chair, the high counters in the Main Hall, the great secrecy of the vaults below ground, to the fact that Gringotts towered over all the other shops in Diagon Alley. Overcompensation if he ever saw it. The goblin sat behind the desk, while he and Mr Leopold Cretach, the family solicitor, flanked his father on the opposite side. Mr Cretach, of Cretach, Bondle and Associates had been their family solicitor for years, since his grandfather, Quintus Malfoy, helped him establish the firm. The meeting had started mid-morning and, due to the sheer amount of investments and vaults in the Malfoy name, the meeting had gone straight past lunch. Lucius wanted to tear out his eyes, he was so bored. For the first time he was glad for Mr Cretach, when the elderly man pulled his vintage pocket-watch out and read the time.
“What say we revisit this after a spot of tea?” It was testament to how long the meeting was when even Gornuk seemed relieved.
Lucius stepped out past the burnished bronze doors of the building into the busy melee of Diagon Alley, ignoring the two guards in their scarlet and gold uniforms. The polished and ornate white steps of Gringotts Bank looked severely out of place among the less opulent streets and shops below. Certainly, that was the point of such a display.
He rolled his eyes internally. Overcompensation was underestimating their severe complex.
He took in a deep breath of air and looked up to see the waxing gibbous moon in the afternoon sky. It was a clean, crisp white in a sea of blue. Disregarding it, he followed his father through the busy street. It was a Monday and the Alley was busy with people on their day to day duties. He wondered which part of the world his mother was shopping in, reminded of her when he caught sight of a blonde woman being followed by her house elves carrying her purchases. She usually brought things home for him to try, including sets of ribbons that always made him roll his eyes. Now that he was being forced to leave it alone instead of cut it, his hair had been growing, in Lucius’ opinion, at an alarming rate. It brushed his shoulders now and Lucius hated feeling like there was always something there touching him. He could often be seen brushing his neck, only to realise it was just hair. She was impossible when it came to him doing as he was told. She hated arguments in the house, especially between her two best men. Lucius sighed to himself and glanced into the shop windows as he and his father made their way to a cafe. He was absently listening to a point his father was making about blood purity, something he’d begun to discuss on and off for a while now, when he heard it.
“I said no!” That voice. Even after a month’s time, he’d recognise it anywhere.
“Come on, Moony. I’m sure we can get her to say yes if you come along.”
“Yeah, Remus, please! She actually likes you.”
In front of the cafe they were heading toward, next to the group of outdoor tables, stood four men, one of which Lucius knew intimately. “Probably because, out of the lot of us, she can actually trust me not to let you drink yourselves into a stupor, and then wake up in Goa surrounded by nameless fluids and a pet goat, with no recollection of how you got there.” Lucius slowed down to look inside a shop window, not particularly noticing what was there, but really just wanting to eavesdrop.
His father’s deep voice made him realise he hadn’t been listening to him for a while. “You and your books. It’s nice to see your quest for knowledge hasn’t lessened,” he said with – if Lucius wasn’t mistaken – a touch of fondness. “Your mother would have been a Ravenclaw, you know, if she hadn’t gone to Beauxbatons.” He stood straight. “Still, a very upstanding house.”
Lucius knew what he was supposed to say. “Not as grand as Slytherin, though. It was the only place for me, for a Malfoy.” The look of tempered pride made him glow warm inside, even though he’d just turned twenty-four and shouldn’t need his father’s praise to feel good about himself anymore. Old habits die hard, though. He turned slightly to see the familiar head of auburn hair. He was facing three men. One was tall with black hair and a pair of glasses, another looked shorter and a little portly. The last one, also with black hair, had a mischievous outlook to him. He looked familiar, but Lucius was too busy focusing on the man with his back to him. His name is Remus. He obviously had his arms crossed, and enjoyed making the group of men beg. All three of them had their hands clasped, as if in prayer. Lucius cocked an eyebrow at the display. “And what on God’s green earth makes you think I’m going to go along with you? Though seeing you all make fools of yourselves would be pleasing.”
“Remus Lupin,” the dark mischievous one said. “It’s James’ bachelor party! It’s a mark of honour for any man!” he said with conviction.
“Idiots, more like,” Remus said as he walked inside the cafe.
The three stood outside with their mouths hanging open before the one with glasses, James, exclaimed, “Remus, come on! I’m actually begging here.”
The mischievous one held on to his arm and put up a hand to placate him. “Leave this to me.” He left them outside and walked in after his friend.
With Remus gone and the other two looking in through the window, Lucius tuned out their antics and back in to his father, who was still talking about blood purity. He gestured for them to continue and his father took the lead to walk up to the cafe and inside. The scent of rich coffee beans filled his nostrils. As an Englishman, he was not supposed to survive unless he had a cup of tea, but truly, he couldn’t live without coffee. It must be the Frenchman in him from his mother’s side. They sat near a window and Lucius went to order their late lunch.
He stood in line behind Remus as he was talked at by the dark haired man. He’d apparently taken on the task of getting Remus on board to plan a bachelor’s party against the fiancée's wishes. Lucius rolled his eyes at the attempt. No man should have to convince their fiancée to let him do what he wanted. In the words of his father, 'It's always easier to say sorry than ask permission'. His mother never really got a sorry after his father did something stupid, since Abraxas felt that saying sorry was a sign of weakness.
As the wife of a Malfoy, she made sure he felt sorry, though.
The two other men walked in behind him, the bell over the door jingling. The portly one stayed there while the other walked up to the line where Remus was ordering. “James, if you want to have any kind of clout with your wife in the future, I suggest you grow a pair of bollocks now while you can.” Remus crossed his arms again and turned to face him, his eyes angry. He caught sight of Lucius and paused a second before he continued, if a little distracted. “It was bad enough watching you trip over yourself to impress her. It’s going to be something else to watch you bumble your way through a marriage that you have, apparently, no control over whatsoever.” He collected his tea and eclair. “I’m going home. Let me know if you get to have your party, I’d be honoured to attend.” His eyes strayed to Lucius as he left, the two remaining men watching him go and coming out of the line as the bell above the door jingled again.
Lucius walked up to the counter and placed a lunch order for two. James stood to the side of him, paying him no attention, but stared in shock at the door. Lupin had obviously never spoken to them like that before. “What’s wrong with him?”
His friend stopped him and shook his head. He sighed like any attempt would be foolish. “It’s his time of the month, James, you know how he gets. We’ll try again next week. Moony! Wait up!” he called fruitlessly, as the man was no longer there. They all walked out, presumably to chase after the angry Remus Lupin.
Remus Lupin. He finally had a name. It did make him wonder, though.
Time of the month?
Lucius stared out of the window despondently. He refrained from resting his head against the glass that overlooked the length of Diagon Alley. Who knew how many people had done that already, and with the state of the rest of The Leaky Cauldron, it wasn’t likely the windows had ever been cleaned. It was the last meeting of the day and it was raining outside, the perfect match to his mood. His father sat on one of the chairs next to the fire with Mr Cretach. There were various folios spread on the table before them. Each sheet held a name, face, credentials and history. Any one of the women on the table could be the future Mrs Malfoy. He looked at the sheet of parchment in his hand. It was the first one his father had handed him. Bellatrix Black. Oldest daughter of Druella Rosier and Cygnus Black. He frowned. He remembered her, she was older than him. When she was taking her NEWTs he was in fourth year and he would always remember the look on her face before she went into exams – like she was ready to murder the examiners if they didn’t hand out the right questions for her to answer correctly. Lucius tried to picture that personality as his future wife.
No.
In her picture, she looked a little... off. There was no smile. The intense look on her face told him she took picture taking very seriously. Thing is, he knew for a fact that Rudolphus, Rabastan’s older brother, had a crush on her in school. He’d mentioned plans to ask her to marry him. As far as Lucius was concerned, Rudy could have her. He glanced across the room to the discussion his father was having with Leopold Cretach. They were all in a secure room upstairs in The Leaky Cauldron. Lucius would do anything to be out of it. The meeting had been going on for three hours as they went through potentials; reviewing their accounts, ages, compatibility, airs and training.
Bellatrix’s picture glared at him now, probably sensing his unwillingness. He was tired and perhaps a little cranky. The weight of the future of the family on his shoulders didn’t help. He was only twenty-four. Wizards lived for over a century. What was the rush? He glanced up, feeling eyes on him and wasn’t surprised to see his father was watching him. He turned away, not wanting him to see the indecision on his face. Abraxas got up and walked over to him, the brandy in his hand sloshing in the glass. Lucius was surprised when he handed it to him. It was not often that he shared.
“You look a tad pale, Luc.” Lucius started at the name his mother often called him. He’d never heard it from his father before. He took a sip of the brandy in his hand. The burn of it was welcomed as it slid down his throat. Abraxas sighed. “Son, would you like to take a break? You look like you’re about to pull out your hair.” He gestured for him to sit down.
Lucius sat on the cushion of the window seat, turning slightly so he could still look outside. “It’s so much responsibility.” He looked up at his father. “How did you do it?” He shook his head. “This is the future of our family.” He held up the strictly intense folio of Bellatrix for his father to see and noticed how Abraxas frowned at the look on her face. “What if what’s on parchment isn’t at all what’s in front of me at the altar? What if I make the wrong decision? Not everyone can choose like you and get someone like mother.”
Abraxas sat on the opposite corner. “You sound like me.” Lucius looked up. “I got very lucky with your mother, Lucius. Believe me or not, your father is not always the strong-headed man you see before you. I’ve had doubts in my time, and I’ve made a few mistakes. I learned from them and keep those lessons with me to this day. It’s called experience and growing up. This is just another milestone in your life and if you have doubts, it’s natural. It’s what I am here for, to help you decide. After all, it’s my family too.” He cocked his head to the side in satisfaction when Lucius gave him an amused chuckle. He took the sheet of parchment and held it. “Mark my words, though. If I hadn’t chosen your mother, she would have chosen me anyway. One meeting and her decision was made. Her parents may have wanted her gone, but she wanted to go twice as much. I didn’t have a choice. Luckily, she was the one. It wasn’t love at first sight, but I’m more open to it now than I was back then.”
Lucius nodded absently and turned again to the busy Alley below. He paused a moment when he saw the familiar figure of Remus Lupin walking up the Alley towards The Cauldron. He chanced a quick glance to his father to see if he’d noticed the focus of his attention. Luckily, he’d been talking to Leopold. “I just – I think I need some time to...” He turned back to the window to see Remus disappearing into Flourish and Blott’s. Perfect.
His father sighed and held up the folio in his hand. “Alright. We’ll finish this another time.” He stared gravely at Lucius then. “But we will finish it, am I clear?” Lucius understood. Doubts were one thing, but deliberately postponing something so important was unheard of. If Lucius didn’t make the decision, Abraxas would make it for him.
He nodded. “Crystal, sir.”
His father stood and turned to him. “This business is important, Lucius. Like you said, it’s the family’s future.” Still staring, he sighed. A slight chuckle escaped him, as if Lucius both exasperated and amused him in equal parts. “Go on with you then. I’ll see you at home.”
Lucius picked up his cloak and flung it over his shoulders as he exited the rented room. He walked quickly down the steps and out the back, using his wand to quickly tap the bricked entrance of Diagon Alley. Before the bricks could fully form the archway, he was through it, manoeuvring around and through the crowd to duck into the bookstore. He walked the length of the store, but only found his quarry when he went upstairs. The last aisles were deserted. Remus was in the last one, his legs crossed on the ground with his back to the shelf. He was reading.
Lucius realised two things. He realised he was panting a little from his dash through the crowd and turned to get to the next aisle, embarrassed. Now that he could see him, he had no idea why he’d chased him down.
When his breathing had evened out, he turned once again onto the aisle Remus was sitting in. He was in muggle clothing under his open robe. Lucius could tell because the young man looked very strange. The woollen jumper he wore was cabled and cream coloured. The trousers were a dark blue and wide at the bottom, but tight at the top. It was an odd material Lucius could not place. They looked uncomfortable. He cocked his head to the side to see the title of the book. He frowned and looked up at the sign at the beginning of the aisle. ‘Fantastic Beasts’ it said. The book in his hands was a literature book. He looked to be three quarters into it. How odd, considering the time it had taken Lucius to get there, there was no way he’d been able to read that far. Lucius cleared his throat.
Remus jumped. Lucius felt himself pinned by the strange colour of the young man’s eyes, much like he had a month ago when he’d apparated outside of the manor wards. They gave him a look of curiosity and confusion. “Mr Malfoy?”
Lucius frowned, feeling at odds with that response, until he realised why. “Don’t call me that.” It made him think of his father. Often people would expect Abraxas when told Mr Malfoy would be attending. He could see the carefully hidden looks of disappointment when he showed up instead. It was part and parcel, he’d got used to it by now. But not here.
Remus closed his book, marking his place with his finger. “What should I call you?” He hadn’t said much of anything the last time. Not knowing full names probably lessened the risk of calling out the wrong one at an inopportune time.
“I went by Malfoy in school, but that was six years ago. My name is Lucius.” He was rambling. How odd. He waited for Remus to stand. Curiously, Remus nodded to him and walked away. Lucius stared after him, perplexed, and followed. The young man walked down the stairs and turned right to the literature section and walked the aisles with the air of familiar practice. Next to a glass cabinet, he placed the book on the shelf. Disregarding it, Lucius asked, “Are you free this evening?”
“I’m never free.” The resentful tone brought Lucius up short, but he disregarded that too, it wasn’t his business or his pleasure to discover the inner workings of a prostitute’s mind. Remus, seeing Lucius roll his eyes in the glass case, amended his statement. “Not this week. I’m busy this week.” Remus began to walk again.
The dismissal stung, but Lucius gritted his teeth and ignored it. “I’ll pay you double what you’re charging them.”
Out on the Alley, Lucius quickly erected a weather-shield charm. Remus soon followed suit and turned to face him. It suddenly occurred to Lucius that he’d just followed this man out into the rain without thinking. Amber eyes that Lucius remembered vividly stared at him, irritated. “For a Malfoy, I’m guessing rejections are a foreign concept, but try to keep up. I have commitments this week. Choose another time.” He looked very angry, the complete opposite to the man who could not be riled by anything Lucius said a month ago.
Lucius suddenly understood what the man with glasses, James, had felt at the face of wrath from such an unexpected source. It sounded just like a woman’s time of the month. Perhaps the dark-haired man was right. He eyed Remus warily. He’d seen the man naked. There was no doubt he was a man. Relenting, he offered, “Next week.”
Remus nodded curtly. “I’ll pencil you in.” The turn of phrase was obviously foreign to the blond and Remus rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m free. Owl me. My name is Remus Lupin.” He walked away and, this time, Lucius let him go.
I know.
The Muggle world was very distinguishable from the everyday sights Lucius saw when he went out. It was like viewing photographs of towns and recognising that what you could see was not native to your country or community. Radcliffe on Trent was as foreign as a wizard could get when thinking of places outside of his usual haunts. Though Lucius could see houses, shops, parks, schools; the place looked different. Alien.
He couldn’t believe he was there. Four days ago, Lupin had agreed to meet with him this week. In that time, Lucius had employed several methods to his advantage.
He glanced down one more time to the parchment given to him by his house elf in Wiltshire and then up at the front of the house he’d apparated to. “24a Lorne Grove,” he said to himself, as he checked the number on the door. He was in the correct place. There was a black, muggle automobile in front of the house. As he walked past it, he read the word PACER on the back. He passed it without comment, the words meant nothing to him anyway. Lucius paused at the front door and composed himself. Looking around, he took off the disillusionment charm he’d put on and knocked on the front door. He surveyed the door closer. It was an odd material. Hard, but not the typical wood. How strange.
The door opened and a rather pretty woman answered. She was made-up and obviously on her way out. “Oh, hello,” she said politely as if she hadn’t heard the door and found it surprising there was someone there. Lucius bowed his head in reply and said good-afternoon. She looked at Lucius closely, blushing, and took in his attire. Lucius knew he had the right house when she disregarded his attire, which must have looked strange to a muggle (Merlin knew, Lucius found theirs extremely so) and turned into the house as she held the door open. “Remy, sweetheart, you have a friend at the door.” When there was no answer, she leaned further into the house to call louder. “Are you coming down?”
“Yeah,” came a rather bored voice. Nevertheless, Lucius recognised it immediately.
The woman smiled at thin air and at Lucius. “I’m off then,” she called. “I’ll be back later. Your lunch is in the fridge, alright?”
The stairs started to rumble as someone came down. “Okay, mum.”
Obviously ‘Remy’ was close because the woman’s smile got wider and she let go of the door to take a step inside. Remus paused when he saw Lucius standing there. “Bye darling,” Remus hardly responded to the kiss on his cheek. Lucius was once again faced with her radiant smile and bright amber eyes. “It was nice to meet you, young man. Those other friends of his drive me barmy, they do.” She rolled her eyes at a joke that Lucius, apparently, was supposed to understand. He couldn’t help it, he nodded in understanding. He’d seen the ‘friends’ Lupin had at Diagon Alley. He wasn’t particularly fond of them either.
He was watching Lupin’s mother move the PACER automobile, when he heard, “How did you know where I live?” behind him.
Lucius turned back to the young man in the doorway. Simple Muggle clothes adorned his frame - a yellow T shirt and ‘sweatpants’. Lucius always found that term somewhat disgusting. They did not look bad on Lupin, though, even if they did pool a little at his feet with the man’s medium height. Lucius understood his predicament, as he often had to hem the length of trousers he bought, but, that’s what tailors were for. “I have my ways,” he said after his perusal.
Remus, however, snorted. Sirius often said the same thing. He knew what ‘ways’ Malfoy had. “You have your money, that’s not a way, that’s just laziness.”
Lucius cocked an eyebrow at the assumption. “Is there another way to find your... home?”
Those bright eyes narrowed at him. “Owl?” Remus said obviously. “You could have asked me. My home,” he said mimicking Lucius, “as you put it, is all I have, and I didn’t ask you to come here,” he added in response to Lucius’ superior tone. His parents worked hard to afford a place like this, his father especially. “If you don’t want to be here, leave.” Silence followed his outburst. “So what did you want?” He needn’t have asked. The look in Lucius’ eyes when he did ask, answered it for him. He scoffed. “Well you’re not getting it under my parents’ roof.” It may well be the seventies, but his parents weren’t all for freeing love and being open. Mind coming off his parents, he finally realised Lucius was standing on his doorstep in full Wizard robes. Not casual ones either. They looked... formal. “Why are you all dressed up?” he asked curiously. He couldn’t help it. He’d always been that way. Sirius always tried to exorcise the Ravenclaw in him during school. It never worked though.
Lucius looked down, as if now realising what he was wearing. “I had a meeting with my father this morning. I have another one after lunch,” he added with – if it were possible – even less enthusiasm than before. “I want your company this afternoon, after my meeting.” The subject was not a joyous one, and he had a sense of dread within him, like he had felt last week. He had a feeling he’d need the company. He remembered watching Remus sleep that third morning after, how the deep breathing and total Hufflepuff trust he’d seen had actually calmed him, somewhat. He’d been unable to feel that way since. He wanted it back.
The demanding tone didn’t escape Remus’ notice. “Did you now?” he asked with his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. “And an owl couldn’t tell me this?” Remus’ brow furrowed at the expression on Lucius’ face. “What’s the meeting about?”
It seemed Lucius realised he was giving too much, away. When he finally looked at Remus, his eyes were hard once more. “The future of the family.”
Remus understood immediately. Sirius had ‘meetings’ of that type once. He’d never attended them, unless he was supremely pissed off and needed some cheering up. His mum had blasted his name off the family tree for his behaviour. Well, that and running away from home. “Suitors.”
Despite Lucius’ clear objective to refrain from Remus seeing how he felt about the topic, Remus still saw his jaw tighten. “To put it succinctly.”
He gave a pacifying smile. “There aren't many other ways, are there?”
Lucius replied with a biting tone. “I have a few choice words to describe it.”
Rolling his lips between his teeth, Remus managed to stop himself from laughing outright. “I’ll bet you do,” he said eventually. Lucius watched Remus’ right hand rise to push back the light brown hair that had escaped his hair tie. “I’m not free. I’m not even going to be here after three.”
He focused again on the man’s face. He’d told him the opposite not four days ago. His jaw clenched. “I can escort you there.”
Remus smiled with a mischievous look in his face. “I’m sure you can, but I’m going into the country.” Lucius didn’t look like that would be much of a problem, so Remus elaborated. “I won’t be back for at least two months.” He shrugged. “I’m finding myself.”
What an odd thing to say. “You lost yourself?”
Remus laughed. Lucius didn’t know it, but he’d said exactly the same thing when his mother had suggested it. “I live under their roof, I live by their rules.” He shook his head and those damn strands of hair escaped his ear again.
Lucius resisted the urge to tuck them back for himself. “We’re not so different after all,” he said quietly. “You should be glad,” he added, louder. “Getting away from your family” he explained. I would love the chance.
Remus narrowed his eyes. The amber irises still caught the light of mid morning. Lucius couldn’t help but stare. “I have a feeling you’re expressing you own views instead of mine.”
Those eyes were surprisingly astute. “Like I said, we’re not so different.”
The pregnant silence that filled the space between them was rife with tension as they stared at each other. “Wait here.” Remus left him there and walked into the house, leaving the front door ajar. Lucius stood outside and looked around, taking in the neighbourhood he could see. The area looked surprisingly clean for mugglehood. He’d not seen one up close before. They always looked so busy, with everyone moving around all the time. This one looked very quiet and subdued. Lucius was surprised to admit he liked it. But only to himself. When the door re-opened fully, Lucius could tell that Lupin had taken out the hair band to tie it again, as it was all recaptured behind his head. “I’m going by my aunt’s in Edinstowe. After Saturday, she’ll be gone. If you can hold out.”
“If?” The young man thought a lot of himself. Then again, Lucius thought to himself, look at where I am.
Remus shrugged at him. He leaned forward suddenly to look up and down the street. “I wouldn’t apparate from here if I were you. We have nosey neighbours.” Getting back on topic, he added, “If you can’t handle it, I can give you some recommendations.”
“No. No thank you.”
Remus was surprised. “No? Not even a female?”
Lucius remembered the lecture he’d got from Rabastan. The females tend to get clingy when you go back to them multiple times. Men understand the need to disappear. Lucius had stared, pink faced, at his friend’s blatant knowledge of Knockturn’s finest, but he’d taken him at his word. He remembered the morning the man had met his mother. He’d said just enough to pique her interest but not nearly enough to give it all away. His mother simply thought he was a very good looking one night stand. He shook his head at Remus. The man was discreet, hid his activities well from all, even his friends, and seemed to be frank about what he expected. If he went with someone else now, he’d have to start from the beginning. He gestured behind the man. “I’ll use your floo, then.”
Unfortunately, Lucius wasn’t able to meet him on Saturday, the first of every month was set aside for taking stock of the various properties owned by the Malfoy name. Houses, manors and estates didn’t keep themselves going. The elves and humans working there needed supplies to take care of everything when family members weren’t there. It took forever, but it was all necessary. Following that, he had to send out orders and letters of correspondence. Unlike before, he constructed and signed them for himself instead of his father. Now, instead of learning the language of business, he would have a hand in it and would allow the various companies and firms to get acquainted with his name. By the time he was able to send an owl to Lupin, he was frustrated beyond measure.
The response he received simply set him off.
“Dobby!” Dobby was probably the only competent house elf in the house. He’d been with the family for years already, even though, by elf standards, he was still quite young.
“Master Lucius is calling on Dobby, sir?” He was also the only house elf that listened and called him by his name. Then again, the elf had practically raised him.
He nodded. “The man you found for me, find him again.”
All he’d been given was the area Remus had gone. The smart man had told him to owl first beforehand so he could give him the coordinates. Since he’d met him, this was the third time he’d turned him down. Lucius was paying for his company, he shouldn’t be turned down. That’s not how it worked.
Dobby’s eyes widened, glancing outside and then back at his master. “Master Lucius wants me to find... Him? Now?” The elf glanced back outside.
Lucius looked up at the window of his father’s study. What the hell was the elf looking at? Dusk was approaching but there was a bright waxing gibbous in the sky. The full moon was tomorrow. Lucius looked back down at Dobby. He seemed genuinely upset. “Yes I do, Dobby. Are you questioning me? Must I have a talk with Father?”
If anything, that only caused Dobby to get extra anxious. “No, Master Lucius, Dobby is finding him for you!” He disappeared instantly.
Lucius got up and walked to the window to view the colour of dusk. In the east wing, he couldn’t see the sun setting, but the moon was bright and high in the sky. He was getting frustrated with these rejections. This would be the last time Remus turned him down.
Remus ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He’d taken a cold shower earlier, the heat finally getting to him. Lucius’ owl had taken him by surprise earlier, the request wasn’t so unwanted either. He felt like he could jump out of his skin at anytime. His wolf was pacing inside, he could feel him. An evening in bed could have calmed him down. He shook his head. It was far too dangerous to think like that. Lucius Malfoy was a very influential man, even if he didn’t see himself that way yet. One word to his father, one word to anyone about him could have him ostracised even worse than he already was.
“Remy?” He looked up at his aunt, Sarah Lupin. “I’m driving down into town for the festival. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
He knew she meant well, but right now, his wolf was likely to tear the head off any man, woman, or child that touched him. A large crowd was not a good idea. He shook his head and smiled, though it came out as more of a grimace. Her fingers tapped the wood of his bedroom door. He wanted to break them off. Shutting his eyes, he buried his head in his pillow. “Have fun, Aunt Sarah.”
She sighed. “I’ll try, love, but I doubt I will without you.”
He laughed. “You want to stay here with me right now?”
She laughed herself. “Good point. I’ll see you later.”
He smiled properly this time. “I won’t wait up.” He rolled his eyes at her waggling eyebrows and dropped his head back down to his pillow. He heard the front door shut and even heard her start up her car before driving away. He groaned. He was an absolute beast all day. He didn’t blame her for wanting to get away.
Remus frowned. Someone was banging on the door. Did Aunt Sarah come back? He didn’t understand. If she forgot her key, she had her wand. He walked down the stairs quickly and opened the door.
Freezing, Remus felt his blood run cold. The heat that had surrounded him all day was gone. “You turn me down at the same time every month. Why?”
A very angry Lucius Malfoy was standing on his doorstep. He was able to look straight across at him. Remus looked down. No boots. A low level of heat began to circle and stir in the pit of his stomach. His wolf was rising. Oh God. Why was this happening? “You keep track?” He was confused. That wasn’t what he was supposed to say. Why had he said that? Say, go away! “Why are you here?” What? No!
Lucius’ eyes were flinty. “I noticed a pattern. Why?” he said relentlessly, with more edge. He hadn’t really realised until Dobby had popped in again with the coordinates, his hands twisting and his eyes straying to the moon outside before he popped out again. Lucius had looked outside once more, wondering about it, until he’d realised that, at the same time a month earlier, he’d got the same response. The nineteenth. He didn’t know what was so significant. He would find out, though.
Remus crossed his arms. “It’s my time off.”
It didn't look like Lucius believed him. “You take time off?”
Tough. “Wouldn’t you?” he said bitterly.
Lucius cocked an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Then don’t assume.”
“How do you feel about paid leave?”
The man just didn’t give up. Remus could feel his wolf snarling inside. “I politely decline.”
Lucius narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
Throwing his hands up in the air, Remus said, irritated, “Because I don’t want to.”
Lucius narrowed his eyes at the younger man. “You work for me! The money-”
A look of indignant disbelief crossed Remus’ face at Lucius’ words. “Fuck you! I don’t want your money.”
“I believe your choice of career says otherwise,” Lucius replied silkily.
Having enough, Remus decided it was time for Lucius to leave. “Don’t you have a fiancée to see about? Or is that what this is about?” He'd hit him hard, he could tell fro the way the blond straightened his stance.
Then, inexplicably, he looked amused. “You’re trying to get rid of me.”
“How astute of you. I’m glad you noticed.” Remus made to shut the door. Unable to cross the wards, Lucius had no choice but to let it close. “Go home, Lucius, you don’t need to be here.”
Lucius was angry. He apparated back to the co ordinates Dobby had given him, standing behind a rather large bush – probably what Dobby had used to hide behind. He stood there seething, until he realised what he was doing. He would not beg. He was a Malfoy. Malfoy’s were sought after, not the other way around. The voice in his mind sounded suspiciously like his father. Raising his wand, Lucius prepared to apparate hearing the familiar crack and frowning when he realised he hadn’t moved. He looked down. No, I’m still here, he thought to himself. He peered around the bush, feeling curious and ridiculous at the same time. He saw the back of a dark-haired man and glared. Time off... of course.
The front door opened, and though Remus’ face was blocked, his arms were not as they wrapped themselves around the man in his doorway. When the man was accepted into the house, Lucius snarled, the squeeze of his apparition overcoming him before he had a chance to prepare for it.
Late afternoon the next day, once the meetings with his father were over, Lucius sat in the chair of his study staring out of his window at the manor gardens with a glass of brandy, telling himself that Malfoys did not feel jealous, or betrayed. They did not drink themselves into a stupor over prostitutes that would rather fuck everyone else but him. He told himself that, as he stood and picked up his cloak the second time – the first time he’d dropped it through numb fingers. He told himself that, even, while standing on the hill overlooking Sarah Lupin’s cottage. The sun was low and the breeze was a little biting, despite it being August. There was a group of people in a large vehicle outside calling and cheering for Sarah to hurry up. She ran outside waving to her nephew and got in, still waving as they drove away. Lucius’ eyes zeroed in on the young man waving at the front door. They positively slit when he saw a man walk out moments later, giving Remus a longer than needed hug and apparating away.
In his inebriation, he saw red and knew he needed to say something immediately. Young, eighteen year old teenagers did not treat a Malfoy this way and get away with it. Not in his lifetime. He’d punish Dobby good and proper when he got home, too. The elf had given him the co ordinates of the large bush he’d been hiding behind to find Remus when Lucius had asked him. Stupid elf. In his current state, he’d conveniently forgotten he’d stood not a yard away from the front door just the night before.
He walked a few steps, realised he couldn't walk straight anymore and apparated to the door. Should have thought of that before.
Remus probably heard the apparition crack, because he came to the door smiling. “Did you leave something Pad...”
Lucius leaned heavily on the stone doorframe. “No. I didn’t.”
There was anger in Remus’ eyes when he saw him, and Lucius refused to admit to the negative effect that had on him.
Remus glared at him. “You have to leave.”
Lucius laughed, his head hanging down for a moment. When he raised his head, he felt a little dizzy. “Do I?” he asked amused.
Remus shut his eyes, irritated. He’d become irritated with this man often these past few days. He was glad he’d taken the Wolfsbane Potion that Sirius had presented him with the night before. He’d opted to stay over, since he had nowhere else to be and, honestly, he had managed to take Remus’ mind off the itching sensation under his skin, but he couldn’t stay for his change. Remus wouldn’t allow it. The month before, he’d run alone in the peace of the forest and he’d felt alive. He didn’t understand it. The forest was completely devoid of anything remotely magical, but his wolf had adored the peace and the chance to run. The pacing it was doing inside was probably anxiety to be free and out there again. After years of being in the Shrieking Shack, Remus didn’t blame it.
Thinking rationally, he took in Lucius inebriated state and shook his head. He would regret this, he knew it, but, he couldn’t let the blond apparate like that. He’d splinch himself for sure. He let Lucius in through the wards and led him into the kitchen to get to the only working floo his aunt had. Lucius was following, slowly, as he kept getting distracted by things, much like Sirius’ cousin Andromeda had when she’d accompanied him to Remus’ home in Radcliff on Trent. It was odd how wizards stared at muggle things, and a little funny too. His Aunt Sarah was a muggleborn like his father, so her home had a few muggle items. In the kitchen, she always said having to keep track of spells to chop, mince, and fry were too time consuming and tiresome. She preferred to do it herself. Right now, Lucius was staring at her blender. Remus didn’t laugh. Honestly. Lucius turned his head, glaring at him and straightened, before he noticed the empty phial on the counter.
Remus hastened to explain before Lucius could ask questions. “I’ve been feeling a bit off-colour, this potion is the only thing that helps.”
Lucius’ eyes were surveying him carefully, so out of sync with his current state, but they were observant. “You look pale.” He began undoing his robe and pushed it back off his shoulders.
Remus had enough of this. “You look like you need to go home.”
Lucius shook his head. His hair moved like water around his shoulders. Remus noticed it had got even longer since he’d last seen him. “I just came from home,” he pointed out. He dropped his robe on the table.
The irritation was rising again, just like the moon outside. He could feel the pull in his bones and his wolf wanted to know what the hell was holding him back. As if on cue, the holdback gave him a shove. He landed against the wall, taken by surprise and became very angry. He longed for his wolf to be at peace. Lucius had to leave.
“What does that mean?” he heard and tuned back into what Lucius was saying.
“What?” It came out angry and Lucius looked at him as if he didn’t understand why he was so angry, but then the blond’s eyes returned to the wall beside him. Remus looked over his shoulder to the wall and froze all over again.
His aunt, trying to be helpful and supportive, had gone and purchased a large 1978 calendar and stuck it up on the wall. There was a smaller one on the fridge, but she was trying to prove a point. Sirius had laughed when he’d seen it last night, but Remus had smiled. His aunt was great. Not so much right now, though, because Lucius was looking at it curiously and taking in the big title written in permanent ink. ‘Remus’ Lunar Calendar of 1978’
“Lucius, get out.”
The drunk man fastened his eyes on him, his blue eyes confused but clearing fast to be replaced with anger. “No.” He shoved him again. “You don’t get to turn me down. Not anymore.”
Remus didn’t have time for this. His wolf wanted out and Remus’ eyes kept straying to the strip of moonlight on the table over his potion. When the blond leaned into him, inserting his knee between his legs he could feel his wolf react to him. He could feel a feral burst of energy snap at him, levelling his control. His wolf, though close to the surface, couldn’t break free, since he was still inside and out of the moon's rays, but its needs were still there and, as he hardened, they overwhelmed him. A growl escaped him, far too inhuman to not scare Lucius. The wizard backed up a step, but not far enough. “I told you to leave. You never listen.” He grabbed the blond and spun him around, roughly snatching at his arms and fastening them over his head.
Lucius tried to move his legs, but they were stuck in place as well. There was a knee between them, spreading them. He was held in place by Remus’ body alone. How is he this strong? He could feel heat behind him. The man had said he was sick. Was this the potion's doing? Lucius struggled in Remus’ hands, but he was still unable to free himself. “You wanted to know why I turn you down every month, then here.” Remus pushed him harder into the wall next to the refrigerator. It hummed quietly next to him while heavy panting reigned in his other ear. Remus placed one of Lucius’ hands on the lunar calendar. There were childlike drawings all over it of dogs and stars and crescent moons. “Do you see?”
Something was wrong with Remus’ voice. It was deeper, gruffer. Something was wrong here. “See what?” he asked softly, his voice – and certainly his whole being – not so drunk anymore.
A huff escaped Remus through his nose. “You’re not a stupid man, Lucius.” Remus slammed his hand palm flat against the wall onto the glossy paper of the calendar again, amused when Lucius jumped. “Look.”
So Lucius looked. The entire year had been marked with appointments. There were red circles in every month throughout the year, half circles two weeks before and after each one, outlined over the numbers in blue and green. A legend at the bottom was titled as, ‘Remy’s time of the month’, inside of a thin black-lined box. There was that phrase again. Was this some inside joke? Inside the legend box, three things were listed, the blue and green half circles and red full circles. Where the blue and green half circles were labelled as waxing and waning moons, in brackets the words cranky and depressed were written. The red full circles meant full moon. He checked again, no birthdays were outlined or any public holidays. Why would anyone make a calendar based solely around the moon. In the calendar, June and July twentieth were circled in red. The nineteenth of those months Remus had turned him down. Because the next day was the full moon. Whose life revolves around a full moon?
“No,” he heard himself say before his mind even registered it. Remus slid a little to his left and Lucius felt the heat of his breath in his ear again, radiating through the hair that hung over it. In a very low voice, so close he could feel Remus’ lips move against his ear, Remus gave him a very amused howl that tapered into quiet, amused laughter.
Like a switch in his mind, light shined on one of the red circles. The eighteenth of August. Tonight.
Werewolf.
“No.” He shook his head in denial.
Remus was nuzzling his ear. “Oh, yes.”
Lucius’ lungs refused to take in air. He felt lightheaded. “You’re a... Merlin. I’ve been...” He turned his face back into the wall and swallowed, resting his forehead against the wall and trying to breathe. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Remus’ frame behind him went rigid. It shook with tension and the iron grip on his wrists tightened minutely, but enough to make Lucius go completely still. “Lucius, I think you should go.” His voice was deep, the tone serious. Lucius hardly recognised it.
But he did, very much, agree with his statement. “I’ve been... and you didn’t tell me.”
A rough bark of a laugh startled him. “You really want to think about this? Now? With the way you’re reacting?”
A hot and sharp burst of anger escaped Lucius, though he was till pinned to the wall. “My reaction is normal for a person who’s just discovered I’ve been fucking a dog! You are the one who lied, who purposely hid this so that you could get paid.” The grip on his wrists relinquished and he pushed Remus back to spin around. “Don’t you dare lie to me and say you don’t want my money. My father always told me the only way a werewolf could make money was on its back. I didn’t know if I should believe him. It seemed plausible, since no one would want to hire a miscreant animal, but to sleep with one...” Lucius’ mouth opened, his expression taking on one of disgust. “I never thought I’d see it in live action, much less participate.”
The room was calm and silent, until Remus yelled something unintelligible and shoved Lucius into the wall much harder than Lucius had done to him. Breath escaping him, Lucius had little to no chance of escaping when the brunet forced him around and pinned him back in place to face the calendar. He could feel Remus’ hot breath in his ear. As Lucius struggled, Remus crossed his wrists to hold them in one hand, this time. With the other, he reached down and began fiddling with the fastenings of Lucius’ trousers. With his hand now inside, he grabbed Lucius’ cock and began to pull on it roughly. With it happening so quickly, Lucius was rooted to the spot and horrified at the treatment all at once. He couldn’t believe how strong the younger man had become. It was impossibly hard to move away or retaliate. Even worse was the fact that his body was responding. He shut his eyes tight and willed it away, even as his cock began to harden and continuously leak pre-come. As Remus angled his wrist, Lucius felt angry at how his hips moved involuntarily into his hand and back against the hard length he could feel through Remus’ boxers.
The soft material was sliding against his skin and Lucius realised that with his thrusting, his trousers were falling. There was something cold, though, entering him and he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. It felt like drinking a cold drink in the summer and feeling the coolness of it in his stomach as it spread out. This time, however, the sensation was in his arse, accompanied by a finger. He struggled even harder now, but the iron grip Remus had on him prevented him from moving. Another finger joined the first and scissored to stretch him open. He shook his head, his forehead resting against the wall. The small amount of air before him was hot with his panting breaths.
Lucius let out a silent cry when Remus entered him and another loud cry when he pushed forward more forcefully. It hurt. He couldn’t believe how much it hurt. Remus held himself there, growling in his ear and Lucius wondered how much of this was him and how much was the wolf that was obviously near the surface now. Remus’ free hand slid back around him, gripping hold of his cock once more and tugging on it. He waited so long to move, that by the time Remus began to thrust in and out, Lucius, involuntarily, began to thrust with him. He swallowed around a moan when a sudden sharp spike of pleasure ricocheted up his spine and spread as shockwaves through his body. They zigzagged their way through the now small, lulling waves of pain. He almost didn’t hear him when Remus began to speak to him. “I knew you were a Malfoy before, that any lifestyle other than your own was looked upon with nothing other than derision.” Another punishing thrust shoved him into the wall. He whimpered, the power of it jarred his hipbone again. He was sure to bruise. “But I didn’t know that you shared the same mindset of ignorant idiots, whose thoughts and ideals date back to the fifteenth century.” Remus held himself in place on the next thrust, pinning Lucius against the wall by his prostate. “Especially considering what you’ve been doing with this miscreant dog for the past few months.” The heady sensation of pleasure as he came blocked Lucius from uttering a word, though the groan he let escape said it all. Remus pulled back, his words sinking in. Lucius felt as ashamed of them as he was of his actions.
“Well, let me tell you, Mr Malfoy, nothing-” The hard thrust in forced a gasp out of Lucius. The hand on his cock slowed, teasing him. He groaned as he felt it stiffening again “-you have said hasn’t already been said to me before by strangers, peers and even myself. I’ve been told that I should be put down, poisoned and even killed. I’ve been lied to, I’ve been set up and I nearly killed someone when I was in school.” The hand on his cock sped up, the over sensitised skin reacting to every slide and tug of Remus’ hand. His gasps became more frequent as the brunet consistently pounded into him. “You have no idea what I go through every day, you have no idea how I feel, or what I want.” With a punishing blow to his prostate, Lucius came a second time, his arse tightening and spasming around the cock buried deep inside him again. Lucius felt warmth fill his arse as Remus climaxed after a few more thrusts. He collapsed against the bound man's back, unable to hold himself up any longer.
The only sound heard in the room for several minutes was heavy breathing, as the two men tried to catch their breath. The wall, so close to Lucius’ face felt slippery where he’d been breathing heavily, his nose feeling wet as he was pressed against it. “Now, get the hell out, or I will make you.” Remus pulled away, letting Lucius’ arms go. They fell heavily against his side.
But Lucius couldn’t move. He tried and failed, falling against the kitchen table in the centre. His eyes rested on the collapsed potion bottle there. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. Wolfsbane. He’d been so blind. So stupid. Remus growled, grabbing him at the waist and pulling him toward the floo. He ignored Lucius’ shout to let him go, grabbed the pot of powder over the mantle and practically threw Lucius in with the white dust yelling out ‘Malfoy Manor’ as he did. As the green flames came up around him, Lucius could see the outline of Remus disappearing through the side door of the kitchen into the moonlight. A howl reached his ears as the kitchen in Edinstowe disappeared.